Jihoon.
88th Timeline
October 14, 2014
The Day Wooju Disappeared in the Fire
A s a child, Jang Jihoon wanted to be a doctor just like his late mother, but when he told his father about his dream, the old man hit him in the head with a beer bottle. That was not the last time it happened, either.
Jihoon couldn’t even imagine breaking free from his father until a boy named Yunho saved him.
Yunho returned a few years later, but this time, eighteen-year-old Jihoon knew the boy didn’t come for him.
There was someone else in Yunho’s mind. Not Soozy, not Jihoon, or the child who needed saving from a stranger.
“I’m sorry for calling you over,” Jihoon said, his head hanging low as he shuffled his feet along the path to his house. “And thank you for coming and dropping me off.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re safe.” Yunho stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m actually amazed. You handled your father perfectly. You didn’t need me at?—”
“You should go back to Wooju,” Jihoon cut him off. “I know he’s the one you like. You wouldn’t have come unless he convinced you. I shouldn’t have called you either.”
“Wooju?” Yunho pursed his lips with a hint of unease.
“I just wanted to do something to save you, too,” Jihoon finished, recalling his last conversation with Wooju.
The time travel and Yunho’s death.
“What are you talking about?” Yunho demanded.
“I don’t know either. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what to believe, but I think you should go.”
“I...” Yunho hesitated, retrieving his hands from his pockets. “I came all the way here because you called, and now you’re pushing me away? Does that even make sense?”
“My dad’s in jail already,” Jihoon said, his tone sharp. “I can go from here. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Letting go of his savior and his first love wasn’t easy, but Jihoon managed not to crumble when Yunho eventually walked away from him. At least, not until the oblivious blond disappeared from his view.
As the sun slowly sank behind him, Jihoon’s knees collapsed. The ground became his only sanctuary as he erupted into a flood of tears.
But that soon changed as a shadow appeared before him.
He lifted his head to see the owner, huffing and puffing in a school uniform.
A wave of relief rushed into Jihoon’s veins.
“Sangheon.”
“I’m not gonna ask you why you didn’t call me instead. I already know the answer, but...” Sangheon drawled, mopping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his left hand. “There’s just one thing I need to ask you.”
Jihoon sniffed his tears back.
“Are you okay?” Sangheon asked.
All those years, Jihoon needed a friend. He needed a shoulder to cry on, one that belongs to someone who could understand him and make him feel safe. He’d been so absorbed in the past that he overlooked the present and, of course, this weird, curtain-haired boy in front of him.
“I’m okay now,” Jihoon replied, rising and wrapping his arms around the taller boy. “I just hope they’re both okay, too.” His tears showed no sign of stopping. “What if I made the wrong decision? How am I gonna live with that?”
Sangheon, unaware of the situation, soothed Jihoon’s back. “I’m here,” he said, his words strangely comforting. “You’ll be okay. I’ll protect you no matter what.”
“I know,” Jihoon murmured softly. “I know.”
Their moment was cut short when Sangheon emitted a wincing sound, his hold on Jihoon loosening.
Noticing the discomfort, Jihoon instinctively pulled away, his eyes widening in worry at the sight of Sangheon clutching his wrist. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Ah, this.” Sangheon laughed and flinched at the same time. “I almost forgot. I tripped on my way here and landed on my wrist. I might have a sprain.”
“You idiot,” Jihoon hissed.
“I know, right?” Sangheon rubbed the back of his head with his uninjured hand. “I should probably go home?—”
Before Sangheon could protest, Jihoon hauled him into the house and made him sit on the living room couch. Jihoon extracted an ice pack and a thin towel from a blue emergency bag.
“Give me your arm,” Jihoon instructed, and Sangheon obediently followed his instructions as Jihoon propped his injured arm on a pillow and iced it. “I’ll go get you some pain medication, but just make sure you keep your arm above your heart.”
“Say,” Sangheon said, seizing Jihoon’s arm with his free hand. “You know, you’d make a good doctor.”
“Huh?” Jihoon blinked.
“Have you ever thought about going to college to study medicine?”
Jihoon gulped, averting Sangheon’s penetrating gaze so he could lie effectively. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Are you sure you haven’t?”
“I don’t know.”
“Doctor Jang has a nice ring to it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Then,” Sangheon muttered, placing a gentle hand over Jihoon’s cheek before turning the flushed boy’s face in his direction. “Can you think about us, too, Jang Jihoon?”
“Huh?” Jihoon breathed, his heart dancing wildly in his chest. He was not prepared for this.
“I really like you,” Sangheon confessed, his eyes shining. “Not just a little. I like you a lot, Jang Jihoon. I’m holding on because of you. Because I want to see you win.” Leaning in, he smiled. “If you don’t like it, just push me away.”
Sangheon’s words left Jihoon so stunned that he couldn’t find his voice, and when Sangheon closed in on him with a soft, heartfelt kiss, he stilled, unable to resist his touch.