A Scorching Day Chapter 42

Gawon pressed his knuckles hard against his fiercely reddened eyelids. Come to think of it, Ki Joon had never given him a clear answer back then. He had only smiled vaguely.

“…What is it?”

Even in the midst of this, Gawon was curious about Ki Joon’s answer. Like himself, Ki Joon rarely opened up about his own story. So he wanted to know—especially if it was something important and precious to this boy.

“Hmm.”

As if embarrassed now that it came to saying it, Ki Joon clamped his mouth shut and paused for a moment. Instead, he slowly reached out and gently, soothingly touched Gawon’s still-warm eyelids.

Despite having pushed him away all this time because he didn’t want to show this side of himself, Gawon didn’t want to refuse Ki Joon’s touch, which treated him so preciously. He quietly accepted the boy’s caresses and waited for his answer.

“It’s to protect them. …The people who are precious to me.”

As if tracing a very distant memory, Ki Joon’s voice settled into a solemn tone.

“I was ten, on a rainy day. I stayed late playing at school and it got dark… so I asked my mother. To please bring me an umbrella.”

His lowered lashes cast a small, dark shadow. His well-shaped lips closed for a moment, then parted gently.

“I… because of what my father did, I went through a lot of dangerous things growing up. From a young age, I saw uncles and other men slashing at each other countless times, and I was kidnapped—both me and my mother—on occasion.”

“…I see.”

“Still, I luckily survived every time. The uncles or my father always came to rescue us. But that day… everyone was a step too late.”

“…”

“My mother was stabbed to death in front of my eyes by thugs’ knives.”

Gawon’s eyes widened. His heart dropped and slammed down deep.

Yet even as he spoke such horrific and heartbreaking content, Ki Joon remained impassive. Gawon immediately recognized that this detached attitude, which at first glance seemed like someone else’s story, was not because he truly didn’t care, but because it had been worn down through countless resignations.

“Those men had originally come to kill me. My mother shielded me and died in my place. After that, the uncles came and rescued me, but… if my mother hadn’t taken the knife for me, I would have died.”

“…”

“And even watching that, I… I was too scared to do anything. …I couldn’t even hold my dying mother’s hand.”

Dropping his head, Ki Joon quietly looked down at his own palms. He clenched his fists tightly, then released the tension and let them hang limp. His hands, as remarkably large as his height, which Gawon had always wanted to touch at least once, looked lonelier and rougher today than ever.

“I don’t want to be like that anymore. Losing someone right in front of my eyes and regretting it—I’ll never do that again.”

Ki Joon slowly raised his eyes.

“Gawon. Now you’re that kind of person to me. Someone I want to protect with my own hands.”

The boy’s voice was calm, yet simultaneously embedded with firm resolve.

“So you don’t need to feel sorry toward me. It’s my will, and I did it because I wanted to.”

Gawon found himself helplessly captured by Ki Joon’s gaze, which held him with such strength. He couldn’t help it. The power burning intensely within those eyes was mesmerizing and powerful.

Everything was a first. Had there ever been anyone who wanted to protect him this much? Had there ever been anyone who desired him this much?

He was someone whom even the person who gave birth to him found tiresome. Yet Ki Joon looked him in the eyes and said—with those large, trustworthy hands—that he would protect him.

Though the wall he had built upon his heart was layered with countless wounds and scabs, it was still just built over a seventeen-year-old, unripe chest. Before the unwavering, straightforward affection that charged at him without hesitation time and again, the solid wall could resist no longer and crumbled. The first spring to come to Gawon was that powerful.

Because he grew up in a gangster family. Because the violence he wielded so casually oozed that very nature. He could no longer reject Ki Joon for those reasons. Pushing this boy away out of fear of the wounds to come had now lost all meaning for Gawon.

Because the boy in front of him was just Ki Joon. Tall, handsome, eating an enormous amount, full of playfulness yet infinitely tender toward him, and… just a boy who liked him and wanted to protect him.

“…Ki Joon.”

Gawon hesitantly reached out his hand. His palm awkwardly covered Ki Joon’s scarred hand and the rosary bracelet on it.

“I… I too.”

His lips were parched. Wetting his lips once with his tongue, Gawon struggled to open his mouth.

“I like you too.”

The sincerity that had been secretly simmering in his chest finally burst forth. The feelings he had hidden even from himself, harboring in secret all this time, were so hot like fire that he couldn’t bear them without spitting them out.

Only after confessing his heart as if crying out did Gawon open his eyes. Then he saw Ki Joon’s face, mouth slightly open like a person who had lost his wits.

“…But I can’t stand seeing you struggle because of me.”

Gawon’s hand slowly slid down from Ki Joon’s hand. His fingertips, clutching the innocent bedspread, turned white. Gawon bit his lip.

“Because of me… you ended up like this. With these injuries, how can you compete?”

“Gawon.”

“And your father said… if you fought again, he wouldn’t let you do sports anymore. But…”

Because of me.

The endlessly repeated words hurt, and Gawon closed his mouth. The more he spoke, the more the weight of reality piled onto his chest. The small, flame-like sincerity he had so painfully spat out was trampled under that weight, flickering as if about to go out.

Even if he decided he could no longer deceive this boy about his feelings, even if he mustered the courage to take a step closer to Ki Joon… he was nothing but an obstacle to him. Faced with that self-evident truth, taking that second step felt far too brazen and shameless to Gawon.

“Stop saying it’s because of you, Gawon. That’s not it.”

Ki Joon grabbed Gawon’s hand and lifted it. The hand that had been anxiously picking at the blanket stopped.

“Competition? I can just compete next time. I already have too many medals anyway, and I don’t even have a use for them.”

His clear voice swept away the dark clouds of thought that had been hanging over them in an instant.

“And, well. My father—I can handle him somehow. He’s a bit extreme in how he expresses himself, but… he does care for me. That fact hasn’t changed.”

“…”

“So, Gawon.”

Long, firm fingers slid between Gawon’s small fingers.

“Don’t worry, and come to me.”

It was so comfortable that all the tension drained out of him. The feeling of those hands interlacing with his like rain after a drought. He wanted to pretend he couldn’t resist and accept the warmth transmitted through their intertwined fingers. He wanted to let his head droop and lean on Ki Joon’s shoulder.

“…Ki Joon.”

He could endure no longer. Gawon squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, and called out to him as if wringing the name from his throat.

“I have something… to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

Ki Joon’s innocent gaze, directed at him, was frightening. His heart was racing wildly.

Ki Joon had always said the same thing. No matter what situation you’re in, he didn’t care. He was only honest about his feelings toward him. And he charged forward fearlessly, bulldozing ahead time and again, without breaking or tiring, no matter what.

In front of such a Ki Joon, it was not easy to explain why he had run away. He had to confess, even, that he had taken issue not with Ki Joon himself, but with his family. I, who had misunderstood him for the very same reason, had even slapped Ki Joon across the face… how deeply would this boy be hurt?

Perhaps this time, he might finally lose his affection and withdraw his feelings for me. Just thinking that made it hard to breathe. Watching his own fingertips, which were even trembling slightly, Gawon finally realized—the depth of his own heart toward Ki Joon.

But no matter how much, he couldn’t not say it. Hiding the reason he had pushed Ki Joon away and accepting him would be a deception toward this boy.

Gawon bowed his head. Bringing up the story felt like swallowing shards of sharp glass.

“To be honest… the reason I pushed you away last time—it wasn’t… for some other reason.”

“…Then?”

Despite his firmly resolved mind, the words wouldn’t come out easily. Struggling to move his lips, Gawon fervently wished for one thing. Even if Ki Joon resented him, he couldn’t help it—but he hoped the boy wouldn’t be too deeply wounded.

“As you know… my mother works at a bar.”

His mouth was completely dry. With his head still bowed, Gawon barely managed to continue.

“So from a young age, I lived under the watch of gangsters… those kinds of people. Whenever my mother tried to run, or her earnings were poor, or she couldn’t take enough customers, they’d always storm into our house without mercy. They’d drag my runaway mother back, beat and humiliate her in front of me… and trash our home.”

With his gaze lowered, there was no way to know what expression Ki Joon was making. No—he was simply afraid to look at his face.

“I… I’m still afraid of those people. I’ve been afraid my whole life, and …I probably always will be.”

Gawon’s somber voice continued.

“So… so… when you confessed to me, I couldn’t easily accept it. Because seeing you, who belonged to their world… back then, I felt like my heart would just completely fall apart.”

“…”

“You treated me the same regardless of the rumors you heard about me… but I couldn’t do the same. I’m sorry. …That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

After finishing, Gawon clenched both fists. Now it was time to wait for Ki Joon’s judgment. Taking a deep breath, Gawon closed his eyes. His racing heart felt like it might surge up and burst out. Was Ki Joon… very angry? Did he get hurt, perhaps?

The silence did not last long.

“So that’s how it was.”

A hand as hot as fire rested on Gawon’s hand.

“Yoon Gawon, I… I also have something to say about that.”

“…?”

“I… when I first learned about your situation, to be honest… I was relieved.”

His low voice filled the damp room.

“I thought, you must have grown up in the same underworld as me. Then you’d understand me better than anyone. Since we both know how filthy this world is. So you and I… we must be kindred spirits.”

“…”

“That’s what I thought… but I was a damn idiot.”

Ki Joon let out a dry sigh and rubbed his face with his remaining hand. His downcast gaze looked troubled.

“To you, I—we—we were just perpetrators.”

Gawon shook his head toward Ki Joon.

“Ki Joon, that doesn’t mean you are.”

“I know. But the world I belong to… hurt you.”

Ki Joon bowed his head.

“I’m sorry, Gawon. For thinking that way all on my own.”

“…”

“…And for hurting you, too.”