15. A Loud Absence
A day drifts away as if the kiss never happened—as if Yunho’s heart doesn’t go wild at the mere thought of Wooju’s soft lips brushing against his.
Yunho has kissed numerous girls, but they’ve all been scripted and rehearsed for the cameras. Kissing a boy, especially Wooju, is an entirely new experience for him.
Even though he’s always wanted his first kiss to be with his beloved best friend, Yunho hates that he doesn’t understand the reason behind it.
Yunho had fled the scene as soon as he pushed the boy away. He could only ponder now what the boy’s response would have been if he had stayed and asked why.
“Like family, like brothers,” Wooju would probably say. Or, at least, that’s what Yunho assumes as he slumps in the front seat of his classroom, his face buried in his hands.
So why did he kiss me?
“Damn it.” Yunho rubs his unruly hair vigorously. Just then, the lunch bell rings, filling the classroom with the lively chatter of his classmates marching in and out. Yunho remains seated awkwardly.
“Yo, top student!” Sangheon occupies the empty chair next to Yunho. “What’s wrong? You look like you just failed a test,” he notes, his forehead furrowing in a V-shaped line.
“I think I’m in big trouble,” Yunho admits with a heavy sigh. He’s been feeling on edge since last night, and Wooju’s absence only adds to his unease.
“Well, can I help you?”
Yunho lifts his chin, the bags beneath his eyes are probably more prominent now. “I mean, why did he do that? Why did he kiss me out of the blue?”
“If you wanted to know so badly, then you shouldn’t have left after that beautiful, passionate kiss,” Sangheon teases as he smooches the air.
Yunho instantly turns his gaze to his friend, his ears perking up as his heart rate picks up. “You saw?”
“ We saw.” Sangheon gives him a half-smile. “Jihoon and I. It was like watching a romantic movie.”
“What?” Yunho jumps from his seat, his cheeks turning red. “Wait, Jihoon was there, too?”
Sangheon nods enthusiastically. “Mmmhmm. And thanks to your daring public display of affection, I was inspired to ask my little tsundere fluff ball out.”
“Your what now?” Yunho raises an eyebrow before shaking his head and stuttering, “So, who else saw?”
“No one else. Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone either,” Sangheon says knowingly, pouting as he turns away. “I feel so bad for the pretty boy, though. You literally rejected him instead of kissing him back, just like a typical straight guy.”
Yunho hangs his head low and sinks back to his seat, desperately trying to hide the shame etched across his face. He has not outed himself to his family or anyone else yet, but right now, he feels incredibly vulnerable and utterly exposed. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles with pursed lips, not because he’s denying his identity or his feelings, but because he doesn’t understand them himself. Can a friendship run so deep you confuse it for love? He needs time to process it all, time to find the answer.
“Fine,” Sangheon groans, slumping against his chair. “Then stop ignoring me, and let’s talk about me and Jihoon. I asked him out yesterday. Did you hear that?”
“What?” Yunho looks at Sangheon with an exaggerated gasp. “Already? Why?”
“Oh, come on. What do you mean why? Am I supposed to wait a hundred years before I ask him out? Do you want me to be like you, my friend?”
“No, but—” How are you so calm?
“Jihoon couldn’t wait either,’” Sangheon continues, staring blankly at the blackboard. “We went on our first date just like that.”
“Wow, you really are something,” Yunho compliments, then he tilts his head back to the board and whispers, “I wish I had your confidence.”
“He said I made him happy.” Sangheon’s hands find refuge in his pockets as his lips curl up. “He smiled at me. I saw his dimples, and I thought... I was going crazy. It was the best feeling I’ve ever had.”
Yunho senses the mixture of urgency and melancholy in Sangheon’s tone, as if he, too, is hiding something else behind the dreamy narration.
“Where did you take him?” Yunho asks.
“The bookstore.”
Yunho squints. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Of course not.” Sangheon cranes his neck lazily. “He loves reading and studying, so I took him there. Jihoon loved it. He finished three volumes of One Piece in just two hours. Yunho, when you really like someone, you’d want to take them to the place they love the most, not the place you like—especially on your first date.”
Yunho shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Or when they go missing, find them at the place they like the most,” Sangheon adds as he suddenly points toward Wooju’s empty seat. “Like that boy, for example.”
“He’s not missing. He called in sick,” Yunho corrects.
“Yeah,” Sangheon agrees, “and I am a hundred percent sure that it’s because of you.”
“Shut up.”
“Either way, don’t just leave someone hanging after a first kiss,” Sangheon cautions, wagging his fingers. “You either like them back, or you don’t, but if you don’t, tell them that. Being rejected is better with words, with the truth. You’ll get some kind of closure. Whether or not he still pursues you after you verbally reject him is up to him.”
“Why do you sound as if you’re the one who got rejected?”
Sangheon laughs awkwardly as if Yunho blindly hit the nail on the head. “Dude, I’m just saying.” He shrugs. “You have questions. Maybe you should ask him yourself.”
“I barely even know him. How would I know where he’s at?” Yunho lies. He has an idea, actually. But why should he have to find a traitor? Why does he have to give him closure? And why does he have to make that selfish boy feel better? It goes against all logic, and for all Yunho knows, Wooju probably kissed him to distract him and keep him from rising to the top. Maybe that’s why Wooju framed him in the future, too. Just because he lovingly cooked Wooju some porridge doesn’t mean he’s done plotting the traitor’s demise. That’s right. I won’t look for him.
“Are you sure? It didn’t seem like that to me,” Sangheon muses. “It looked like you guys have some sort of history.”
“I’m sure . . .” Yunho hesitates.
Hold on, am I?
Yunho recalls the white flashes he had a few weeks ago.
The fire. The knife. The blood—too much blood. The fleeting pain. Fireflies in the air.
Wooju’s wistful smile.
Wait . . . was it his own?
Yunho can’t tell them apart, but these glimpses, these so-called memories, are they even real? If they are, then when did they occur? Why doesn’t he remember? Or could it be that, they haven’t happened yet?
Jo Wooju’s absence is loud, mind-numbingly loud. Yunho’s brain is about to explode.
“Fine, whatever you say,” Sangheon says, rising as he salutes him. “I’m off. If you ever change your mind, come find me at the cafeteria. I’ll save you a spot. If you bring the pretty boy with you, I’ll save him a spot, too.”