Chapter Text
— And if anything happens, I mean, anything. Tell me. Don’t hesitate.
Sunghoon heard his older brother, Yejun, warn him for the fifth time that morning. The day before, he had also warned him at least ten more times.
It was a big thing to go to high school, though Sunghoon was sure that thrill belonged only to him. He’d never talked to anyone — at least not anyone like them — who went to school before, but he was sure that doing something almost everyday, every year, since childhood, was probably tiring and didn’t feel like news anymore. At least, that’s what the Institute started to feel like. But that whole talk he was having wasn’t doing anything to soothe his heart. Since he arrived in Korea, Yejun took on himself the mission to warn Sunghoon of every single little thing that could go wrong. Every action that could send the wrong message. Every subject that could give in too much. No matter how many times he suggested that he could just blend in and be like everyone else (well, except for pretty much his whole life story), his brother was against it.
“As if that’s possible.” He snickered. “Don’t let them notice you: that’s the best route you can take”.
And yet, Sunghoon couldn’t help but stack some excitement on top of all that caution. Obviously, he’d have to spend some time doing observation: taking notes on how his classmates behave, what they think, what they don’t like. How safe it would be to just let go a little. But with care and responsibility, he could make friends. Why not?
He didn’t need a lot. Just two. Maybe three, so they could have duos inside the group and no one was left out. It was a particular kind of pain to not belong, he wouldn’t let that happen ever.
— I’m going to school — Sunghoon said, taking a bite of the raw meat he was having for breakfast — Not fight in the trenches.
From the other side of the table, Yejun shot him a glare, not amused by his sense of humour. Sunghoon didn’t care and kept chewing, not nearly satisfied with the lack of blood in his plate. But it was ok. He could get used to it, just like his brother.
— I’m being serious. You don’t have to go through the same things I did. Going back to Russia is always an option, ok?
His voice was soft; still, that was no comfort at all. It only reminded Sunghoon of the things he had to lose.
— Ok. — He said, choosing not to fight.
Maybe he could show him that people like them were allowed to be seen. Even if it took time.
🩸🩸🩸
It was horrifying.
So far, high school — a place meant for social growth and knowledge, in Sunghoon’s opinion — resembled more of a jungle with an overwhelming mix of potent smells, herds and flocks of students, and, of course, unspoken signals no one would really sit down with him and teach.
When he arrived in his perfectly ironed uniform and gave a 90º bow to Director Kang, he noticed, by the way her forehead lines worsened, that he’d already stuck out. Though her feedback was more than appreciative, “Oh my, you’re just like a knight!” wasn’t something to be said about most boys, that was for sure. After that, he was immediately assigned a tour guide: Yang Jungwon, the student council president. The words came out of his mouth at an alarming speed, and his cadence implied that every word should be written down on a pad. He tried to keep up: “More than 10 minutes late and you’ll have to wait until second period to be let in” His steps were firm through the hallways, “If you wanna pee… or worse, you need a bathroom pass” he showed him the small plaque with “bathroom pass” written on it, “Never make out with anyone here, especially in public: that’d be disgusting” He made a face before separating a couple hidden behind the infirmary door.
By the time he reached first class, exhaustion had already reached his bones. Those were the downsides of lack of social interactions, plus a really slow pulse.
— Hey, so what’s your…
A touch on his hand.
— Wow, you’re really cold.
It was faster than he intended to. Rougher too.
— Don’t touch me! — Sunghoon slapped a girl's hand away from him, every fiber of his being screaming danger.
— What the fuck?
The girl sounded scared, her hands pressed on her chest while three other girls checked on her. Sunghoon just stood there as a wave of shame flooded him, trying to regulate his emotions. Ok, if I look indifferent enough, maybe they won’t think I’m weird.
— I’m sorry — He bowed. — I didn’t mean to.
The girls didn’t look pleased, turning away from him instead. “Ugh, he’s so hot, he just had to be a weirdo” “I know, right? Maybe he’s too full of himself”. Sunghoon could hear them whispering amongst themselves. He stared at them, doing his best “You're gonna try that again?” look until they awkwardly stopped.
Well, he tried to be nice.
Maybe his brother was right. Maybe it really was going to be harder than he expected.
🩸🩸🩸
Three classes later, Sunghoon found himself in front of the cafeteria, waiting for the president of the student council, who had invited him so he wouldn’t spend his first day eating alone. Sunghoon used to do the same thing with the newcomers at the Institute, so he knew it wasn’t out of friendship or any particular fondness. However, he was never that talkative with those he welcomed there. Jungwon talked a lot, but he wasn’t exactly energetic, more like… pumped. Like he had many places to go and things to do, and Sunghoon was wasting his time being a clueless fool. Still, it was better than having no one at all.
After the incident with the girls in first class, things went as smoothly as they could: no one really spoke to him, but rather about him. His face, his hair, his posture, his background (everything other than “He used to live in Russia” was a lie). Many observers, not that many candidates to the position of Sunghoon’s Friend.
When they stepped into the cafeteria, Sunghoon expected the obvious. A cloud of spicy stew or whatever food they were serving, bodies and perfumes. It all hit him at once: unpleasant, but manageable.
And then something else cut through it. Invading his being through his nose, a thick, succulent smell of metal and pomegranates.
The smell was thick. Alive. It settled on his tongue before he could stop it, the ghost sensation of it dripping from his lips feeling so deeply unsettling but so profoundly enticing.
He moved when Jungwon moved. Grabbed whatever food ended up on his tray. Sat where he was told. His body followed instructions automatically, but his attention had already locked elsewhere.
He looked around and there was no doubt where it was coming from.
A boy, on the opposite side of the cafeteria, sat down but had his neck twisted, looking directly at Sunghoon. He looked exactly like he smelled. Plump, full… ripe, even from afar. His big hazel eyes bored into Sunghoon with so much life, not an ounce of fear or judgement or mindless lust. Sunghoon felt unsteady, as if the walls started spinning and yet, strangely, he didn’t move. Something about the boy anchored him in place.
That should’ve scared him.
It didn’t.
🩸🩸🩸
The boy kept showing up.
At lunch, he moved one table closer every day. Slowly and obviously. Sunghoon half-expected him to roll up disguised as a potted plant at some point. In the hallways, he appeared behind lockers, behind stair rails, behind trash cans. He hid badly. It would’ve been insulting, if Sunghoon couldn’t smell him long before he even came into view.
He should be mad. Or, at least. awry.
But he couldn’t. Whoever that boy was, he didn't spark caution, let alone danger. He was just… funny.
Yes, Sunghoon was painfully aware he was being followed, and for the first time ever he had to force himself to feel threatened. The boy didn’t carry suspicion or malice, just poorly concealed disappointment every time Sunghoon failed to do something interesting.
Apparently, Sunghoon was boring him.
That alone should’ve been harmless. The smell wasn’t.
There was nothing funny about the burn inside of him when he remembered it. It was like the boy's flesh was right under his teeth, ready to bite and chew. If he closed his eyes he could imagine it in his mouth.
He stopped that line of thought immediately. Some lines were not meant to be crossed.
🩸🩸🩸
Unfortunately, those lines did nothing to stop him from sitting right next to the boy in Literature class. Only one seat left. Of course.
Sunghoon held his breath.
He could deal with that. If he managed to breathe as little as possible and ignore the thrumming in his body aching for the taste for at least an hour… once a week… for the rest of the semester.
Oh god.
He sat beside him.
Short breaths, short breaths, short breaths. You're fine. You're not a monster. Control yourself.
From his peripheral vision, the eyes on him seemed to grow increasingly concerned. Sunghoon had to get a hold of himself. It was just his smell. That was it. Just a really tasty, thick smell that stuck on his tongue and made him want to bite into something really hard.
Think of grandma, Sunghoon. Would you want to tear off your poor grandma's flesh, you freak?
His stomach burned, the room started to spin. Calm down, calm down, calm down-
— Here, take this.
Sunghoon snapped out of his trance. Offering him a familiar looking box, the boy had a knowing look on his face, half-compassionate, half-sneaky.
— Wow, you're so cold. — He added as his fingers grazed Sunghoon's.
He looked down. Imodium. While he fought his own instincts and morality, this boy had concluded, very seriously, that he was just… queasy.
It was absurd.
Completely ridiculous.
And kind of funny.
Sunghoon felt his lips twitch and immediately fought against it, taking the box and leaving without looking back. He couldn’t afford to enjoy this, the boy didn't expect any harm from him. That realization hit harder than the hunger ever had. All this time, Sunghoon had built walls to keep people out: from his secrets, from the possibility to dig in, to protect himself. He never considered that he'd want to protect someone else. Sunghoon swallowed, fingers tightening around the box.
He was in trouble.
🩸🩸🩸
Sunghoon was crouching on the kitchen floor, surrounded by cleaning supplies, with his hands stuffed inside the oven as he scrubbed at nothing in particular. An apron was tied tight around his body. Any thought that wasn’t related to dust, grease or smudge was immediately wiped clean with just as much efficiency. He paused only long enough to wipe the sweat gathering on his forehead. The kitchen was spotless. So was his room.
And Yejun’s.
It was like he’d murdered someone and was trying to cover the traces.
— Tell me what happened.
Sunghoon jumped, his head smacking into the roof of the oven with a dull thunk, a sharp pain radiating to it. He let out a groan as he stood up. His brother was there, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed, as if saying “I won’t leave unless you tell the truth”. Obviously, Yejun had his guard up since Sunghoon’s first day of school, nothing would go off his radar.
— Nothing happened — Sunghoon was grouchy, caressing the bump forming on his head.
— Oh, really? Then why aren’t you at school?
— I didn’t feel like going.
— Why?
He shrugged. — No reason.
Yejun’s gaze flicked around the kitchen. — So is there a reason why you’d be cleaning like a maniac?
— I’m not cleaning like a maniac.
— You folded my underwear.
Sunghoon ignored the blush creeping up his face.
— You paired up my mismatched socks! — Yejun added.
— You know I hate mismatched socks — He shivered. — Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn't live like an animal.
Yejun sighed when Sunghoon went back to cleaning.
— You know you can tell me anything.
There was no answer. He exhaled again.
— Whatever it is, you can’t run away from it forever.
Practically inside the oven, Sunghoon only scrubbed harder.
🩸🩸🩸
Two days later, they ran out of bleach.
Sunghoon contacted the Institute.
Though they’d said he could call anytime, it took five hours for someone to return it. Naturally, he refused to speak to anyone except Dr. Krupin.
It was safe to say his time in Russia was the most peaceful, most miserable time of his life — and he’d lived a long time — but if someone could help him, it was her. When Sunghoon first arrived at the Institute, he’d been like the others: jumpy, confused, dangerous. Children hunted by ignorant villagers, repurposed by war, or — like him — stolen by laboratories far more interested in results than in children surviving them. Unlike most of them, he hadn’t wanted to trauma bond. Group therapy felt invasive. The routine — identical clothes, medication, classes, cleaning, sleep — felt less like care and more like erasure.
Dr. Irina Krupin had understood that.
She’d take him figure skating. Show him music like Justin Bieber, claiming he needed something to “bond with the youngsters” once he left. While the Institute insisted on permanent hiding, she never believed in cages disguised as safety. Sometimes she’d cup his cheeks, smiling, and quote softly “He who is brave is free”.
When her call finally came through, his stomach twisted before he even picked up.
— Sunghoon boy — her tone was solemn, as usual.
— Dr. Krupin.
— What’s the matter?
He hesitated. Words were never his strength. Hunger, at least, was familiar, something he’d learned to manage over the last five years. Medication helped. Animal meat helped. Even the Tastings — controversial as they were — had given him control.
This was different.
— I got a craving. — He simply said.
She hummed. — How strong?
— Really strong.
— I see.
A long pause made Sunghoon question if he should say anything.
— I was wondering if, maybe, I could have the meds, I think it’d be really-
— I can’t do that. — She cut in — It’s against the protocols.
— You never cared about the protocols.
— I never cared about purposeless rules. This one has a purpose.
— Which is?
— Control. Autonomy. — She sighed. Then, softer: — The things you dreamed of since you got here.
His jaw tensed. Of course she was right.
— There’s this boy at school. I can’t avoid him.
He remembered poor hiding spots, exaggerated sneaking, the Imodium box. A chuckle slipped out before he could stop it.
— I don’t wanna avoid him. — He confessed.
— You don’t need the meds. What we did here was train your mind, not your body. Your mind is something that can’t be corrupted.
— So what do I do?
— What I taught you to do during all the Tastings. Find an anchor. You are what you are, not what the circumstances make of you.
He swallowed.
— You are not a monster — she added. — Cravings don’t make you one.
Dr. Krupin didn’t wait for his response, hanging up almost immediately. Sunghoon sighed.
Whatever anchor was that, it had to ground something big.
🩸🩸🩸
After a few days ruminating over Dr. Krupin’s words — and running out of rooms to clean — Sunghoon decided to go back.
If he behaved well enough, it would be like his first week of school had never existed. First impressions were the ones that stayed, but permanent impressions were the ones that mattered. Sunghoon didn’t care if he’d made that last part up. It made sense. At least to him.
So, yes, he was optimistic.
So optimistic, in fact, that he woke up earlier that morning and walked to school instead of taking the bus, skipping steps, gazing at the trees and the sky, breathing the breeze in.
Then it hit him. The smell.
He stopped short. Across the schoolyard, the boy who smelled like pomegranates stood near the gate, eating something and talking to himself like he was plotting strategies for the war. He looked a little insane, in Sunghoon’s opinion. For some reason, Sunghoon was also entertained. Even standing still, he was restless: legs bouncing, hands gesturing like he was in the middle of a heated conversation, except there was no one there. It reminded him of Jungwon, and suddenly it made sense why the two of them were always together. But if Sunghoon had to compare, Jungwon was a taser. Sunoo was one of those dancing flower toys. With the music playing and everything. Harmless as he was, Sunghoon wasn’t ready to see him.
He’d walk right past him. Maybe wish him a good morning. Start simple. Build it in. No sudden movements, right?
Wrong.
Because in the middle of that thought, Sunghoon noticed the shadow. A long steel beam, knocked loose from above, plunging straight down.
He could scream. He could warn him. But the boy had already looked up. Sunghoon saw it, the way his body locked, like fear had rooted him to the ground. His body moved before his mind could argue.
Sunghoon dashed forward in a way no human could follow. Not with their eyes, much less with their feet. One second he was standing there; the next, they hit the pavement, Sunghoon’s arms wrapped around the boy as he took the impact beneath him. The sound of steel hitting the pavement was terrifying, echoing through the schoolyard. But even that didn’t tear Sunghoon’s gaze away because only one thing mattered.
He was okay. He was alive.
Relief hit Sunghoon so hard it knocked every other thought out of his head, even the smell, even the murmuring crowd gathering around them.
Don’t let them notice you.
His brother would kill him. The Institute would too. But the warmth and weight pressed against his chest made it hard to care.
He realized then that he was being studied. Hazel eyes traced his face like they were committing it to memory. Sunoo was breathing hard, lips parted and shining, each breath ghosting soothingly against Sunghoon’s cold skin. He was soft. All of him was. But those eyes were unlike anything Sunghoon had ever seen. Bright and sharp in a warm shade of orange, like amberstones. Sunghoon was so lost in them that when the boy spoke, it startled him.
— So… — he said, still breathless. — Is your dad hot?
Sunghoon blinked, questioning his sanity for a second.
That boy was definitely insane.
Sunghoon reached the infirmary at last.
After the boy had been yanked from him by Jungwon and a foreign-looking boy, Sunghoon was left there on the floor, beyond confused. One second, the boy was there and the next, he was gone, pulled from Sunghoon’s arms like something he was never meant to touch. And then came the question.
Is your dad hot?
It echoed in his head long after the schoolyard emptied. Why would he even ask something like that? It was highly inappropriate. And wrong. A violation of boundaries. At least, that was what Sunghoon’s reasoning told him, because after the shock had worn off, he had a laughing fit. It startled him, how his chuckle just couldn’t seem to stop growing until his body reacted too, his eyes watering. He didn’t even know he was capable of doing something like that. He hadn’t laughed that way in years. Maybe ever. His life had catalogued many of his reactions, fear, restraint… but laughter had never made the list.
When it faded, he wiped his eyes and did the one thing he’d already decided he shouldn’t.
He went to the infirmary.
Jungwon had shown him the way on his first day, voice casual. If anything happens. Sunghoon knew better than to be there. Sunoo would ask questions. Questions led to lies, and lies were slippery. After something so exposing, he should disappear for a while. But his feet carried him anyway. Just to see if he’s okay, he told himself. Then I keep my distance again.
The infirmary smelled like antiseptic and alcohol and dread. It reminded him of the lab, and the Institute. The minutes he stood there waiting were the longest of his life. That was the exact smell of his worst nightmares. His body reacted before his mind did, muscles tightening, senses sharpening.
Then another scent cut through it.
Pomegranate. Iron. Warm and vivid and unmistakably alive.
It spread slowly, filling the room, pushing the fear back into a corner. If the smell once meant damnation, Sunghoon found himself thanking it now. It anchored him. Then, finally, he saw him.
Sunoo looked… fine. Disheveled, maybe, with his hair messy and movements restless, like he was in a hurry. But fine, nonetheless. Relief loosened something in Sunghoon’s chest. When their eyes met, the sensation turned nauseating. He didn’t know whether he wanted to smile or vomit, so he froze his expression instead, defaulting to distance.
— I wanted to know your state — He justified himself.
The words sounded mechanical even to him. The bow followed automatically, muscle memory overriding common sense. He had already noticed that boys his age didn’t bow like that. Not here. Not to each other.
Get it together.
To his surprise, the foreign-looking boy spoke up.
— He’s originally from Gyeonggi-do.
Sunghoon blinked, confused.
— Jake, Jungwon, just go to class.
Jungwon grabbed Jake’s arm and pulled him away through the hallway as Jake squirmed in his hold. “What? What did I do?” “Shut up, Jake!” “Why? Was he not supposed to know Sunoo is from Gyeonggido?”
Sunghoon didn’t care about the chaos. Sunoo. His name sounded soft and beautiful.
— I’m sorry I asked if your dad was hot. I don’t know what has got into me.
Sunoo rushed the words out, brows pulled together in visible embarrassment. He looked genuinely distressed by it, like the thought had hurt him more than Sunghoon. Something bloomed in Sunghoon’s chest, taken aback from the absurdity of it all, but above everything, how Sunoo made it all seem so amusing. He tried not to smile, but was sure he failed a little.
— Ah and thank you — Sunoo added — for, you know, saving my life.
Sunghoon followed his hands that were reaching for his backpocket, watching as he handed him something he wasn’t really familiar with, but smelled like strawberries.
He stared at it. A gift?
He could count on one hand the times he’d received something like that. Maybe as a child, before everything. At the Institute, Dr. Krupin would occasionally sneak him contraband like books and movies, things meant to stimulate his mind, but, for obvious reasons, never his body.
It made him feel special, and, at the same time, just like everyone else.
He accepted it with another bow, this one deliberate. — It was nothing.
— Actually, that was impressive. You were nowhere near me and yet, you reached me so fast.
Sunghoon swallowed a sigh. Of course he noticed. He panicked, tearing the wrapper open and taking a bite to avoid the question entirely. The sweetness hit his tongue wrong, clashing violently with everything his body expected. It felt like biting into his own finger instead of a sweet treat. He side eyed a puzzled Sunoo. Maybe Sunghoon was letting on how awful it tasted for him, who knows. Sunoo’s expression was funny, just like everything about him, Sunghoon was beginning to learn.
He suspected his reaction showed more than he intended.
— Let’s be friends — Sunoo said suddenly. — You’re always alone, you know. You could use a friend.
Friends.
— I like being alone. — He said.
It was a lie.
— Bet you’ll like being alone with me even better.
That sentence activated a new area in his brain, Sunghoon was sure of that.
Sunoo was deeply disconcerting. At first, Sunghoon thought that being careful, observing first and getting involved later would help him settle in. That it’d be like science: gathering data to keep the approximation safe. But ever since day one, Sunoo seemed keen on invading his personal space and flipping his expectations. As if making Sunghoon feel things he’d never felt before were his new life purpose. And the worse? He wasn’t even aware of that.
The lines between who was dangerous and who was the victim were beginning to blur.
Sunghoon leaned in, breathing him in before he could stop himself. He needed to end this. To scare him away.
— You won’t wanna be friends. Trust me.
Yes, I looked scary enough.
And before Sunoo could fluster him any further, he walked away. He’d barely made it down the hall when Sunoo’s voice followed him, bright and unbothered.
— Hey, we still have English Literature together!
God.
Sunoo kept walking by his side. To Sunghoon’s surprise, he was quiet, just watching him finish eating, eyes following every movement, as Sunghoon tried very hard to ignore his pocket-sized problem. When they got to class, Sunoo was still there. It felt like hours had passed, even though the day was barely starting. Sunghoon felt tired all of a sudden. English wasn’t really his forte. Korean and Russian had been learned out of necessity, not love. Miss Yoon had written something on the board about Gothic literature, but he wasn’t invested in horrors or darkness either.
He wanted nothing to do with those things.
They could just read The Little Prince and call it a day. He would’ve liked that. A boy figuring out life, guided by his clever little fox.
— Uh… Twilight?
Sunoo’s voice made him pay attention to class again. He heard the class laugh, as if Sunoo said something funny. He didn’t grasp exactly why: he only knew the movie had a vampire who sparked under the sun and fell in love with a human girl. He guessed that was ridiculous enough. Did Sunoo enjoy those movies? The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Maybe that was why he followed him around so much.
Sunghoon would have to disappoint him. There was nothing sparkly about him. Nothing romantic either.
— Not exactly what I had in mind, but sure. Twilight has… gothic adjacent elements. Anyone else?
Sunghoon avoided Miss Yoon’s gaze, staring at nothing. That’s when Sunoo leaned in, too close, his presence overwhelming as he whispered:
— See? Perfect timing. You show up today when we’re talking about mysterious strangers. That’s kind of your whole brand.
Sunghoon stilled. Sunoo was too close.
— You should stop watching vampire movies — He said, trying not to look at him.
— I’m just saying, — Sunoo whispered back, — if the cloak fits.
He couldn’t believe him. Sunoo wasn’t accusing him. He wasn’t scared. He was just… curious. Teasing. Like it didn’t matter at all. Still, Sunghoon knew something had clicked. And Sunoo wouldn’t let go now. Stupid. Stupid.
Then again, if Sunghoon hadn’t been there earlier, Sunoo would be dead. Maybe that made the ogling worth it. How far could Sunoo really go?
— Sunghoon? — Miss Yoon called for him. — Why do you think monsters are so fascinating in Gothic literature?
Something settled in his chest as he thought about it. Being different. Being labeled a monster. Why were humans fascinated by that? Sunghoon was so close to being normal. Just one deviation, and suddenly his path felt irreversible. The idea of monsters being “fascinating” felt dishonest. Words on a page weren’t monsters, they were concepts. Safe ones. People who romanticized them would turn their heads the moment the truth stood in front of them.
He glanced at Sunoo.
Are you one of them?
— The stories are never really about the monsters, — he said.
Miss Choi’s eyebrows lifted — No?
— No, they're about the people watching them. The people writing about them. Chasing them. Loving them. Hating them.
Sunghoon took in a breath.
— We project our fears and desires onto them, — he said. — We’re not fascinated by the creature, we’re fascinated by an unrepressed version of ourselves. That’s the real obsession.
He studied Miss Yoon’s expression, like she was struggling to form words.
— So… we use the monster to explore something more human?
Sunghoon nodded once. — Exactly. But in the end, no one really wants a monster. Not in real life. That’s why we humanize them. If it ever got too close… too real. We’d run.
Halfway through, a lump formed in his throat. This wasn’t the hopeful boy who’d walked to school that morning, thinking he could start over. The irony made his chest ache.
Life had a way of reminding him where he belonged.
Or worse — where he didn’t.
The bell ringing was a relief. Miss Yoon’s group project announcement was not.
— Group 1! Kim Sunoo, Shin Jaeyun, Yang Jungwon and Park Sunghoon! — Sunoo stated loudly, shaking Sunghoon to his core.
Sunoo looked proud when he said: — You said I wouldn’t want to be friends with you?
Sunghoon looked at him, searching for any trace of betrayal there. Any sign that he was just like everyone else and Sunghoon would be better off running back to Russia again. To everything he’d ever known.
There was nothing.
— I think you would. And that’s what scares me.
🩸🩸🩸
Sunghoon had been glad he didn’t have any classes with Sunoo that day. Apparently, he had forgotten he was being followed.
Jake, Jungwon, and Sunoo arrived at the library a few minutes after him and sat three tables away, somehow managing to look suspicious and guilty at the same time.
He half-expected Jake and Jungwon to pull binoculars from their backpacks at any moment, watching him warily, like they were trying to prove the existence of Big Foot.
They whispered among themselves. Sunghoon desperately wanted to know what they were talking about but unfortunately, super-hearing wasn’t on his list, so the only thing he could make out was loud, nonsensical whispers while the library inspector repeatedly shushed them.
It would’ve been funny if he wasn’t so painfully aware of being watched.
Well, it wasn’t like dashing like a maniac to save Sunoo wouldn’t raise any suspicions, but the semblants on Jake and Jungwon hit him differently. Subtle, but unmistakable. Like the looks Yejun would tell him about.
Sunghoon’s shoulders stiffened. Whatever they thought they knew — or suspected — sat heavy in the air between them.
He had to step away.
— That’s it! Out, the three of you. Now!
The library inspector caught his attention as her voice echoed through the library, and he turned around in time to catch the trio hurriedly grabbing their backpacks and water bottles like kids getting caught stealing candies.
— Sunghoon! — Sunoo yelled from across the room, wide-eyed with his belongings hanging awkwardly from his arms. Jake and Jungwon just behind him. — Meet us in the parking lot at 3 p.m.!
He stared.
God, they looked ridiculous. How was he supposed to stay logical and reserved and distant when they insisted on being so unbearably stupid?
— It’s for the group project! — Sunoo refused to let go of the door — Three p.m.! Parking lot! Don’t be late!
Sunghoon exhaled through his nose. Fine. He could check what they had planned… and then step away.
Yes, that would work.
When he arrived at the parking lot, he expected many things.
Maybe they’d circle him, tie him down, try to extract the truth in broad daylight. Maybe they’d found a way to send him back to a lab. Maybe they just had an unconventional idea for the project. Instead, he found Sunoo doing… something.
Jake was screaming — something about Sunoo being stuck under a car — while Jungwon was turned away from them, as if trying to hide his face, not worried in the slightest. Under a black Kia, Sunoo’s hair was splayed on the floor.
And cutting through everything: the dizzying, unmistakable smell of ketchup.
Sunghoon crouched down. Sunoo clutched his leg dramatically, pants smeared red.
— It’s… it’s bad, — His voice sounded almost believable — I think I heard a crunch. I can’t feel my toes. They’re gone.
Nothing in his life could’ve prepared Sunghoon for something like that — whatever that was. It was almost insulting, the way Sunoo seemed so eager to leave him speechless every time. For a split second, Sunghoon was sure there was a camera around and everything was just some big joke. Maybe Yejun was watching everything from home and laughing.
It started to bubble up inside him, this need to shock Sunoo back. To leave him speechless. Ignoring his brother’s words and everything that had ever happened to him up until that point, he got up and watched Sunoo’s face go from fake pain to absolute astonishment and he grabbed the bumper and lifted the car off the ground with little to no effort.
For a second, Sunoo just stood there, frozen and smelling like ketchup.
His body buzzed with something old and wrong and childish, rushing back into place.
After a few seconds, Sunoo’s brain seemed to start working again.
— Uh... I’m free now. I guess. Wow.
Sunghoon straightened. He still wanted to know what all that meant.
— Your leg doesn’t look that bad.
— Adrenaline, — Sunoo blurted out — It’s a miracle. Thank you.
Behind him, he heard Jake whisper, horrified: — Dude. That car weighs, like, a thousand kilos.
He ignored him.
— What were you doing under there anyway?
A moment of silence.
— Taxes?
Sunghoon was speechless again. The silence stretched out as the air started getting heavier.
— Jake wanted to invite you to his birthday party!
It was Jungwon who said it. For the first time, he looked as hectic as the other boys. He liked that more than he probably should have.
— Did he?
Sunoo nodded frantically.
— Ok. — Sunghoon said, before he could stop himself
They were side by side now, looking at him like they’d just confirmed that was really the Big Foot.
— I'll go to your birthday party.
Their eyes conversed while no words were spoken.
— And we'll meet up at your place to work on the project. — Sunoo said. It wasn’t a question.
He knew what Sunoo wanted. He knew where this curiosity would lead. He knew the risks, how easily fascination could turn into fear once things became too real. It should have been enough to stop him.
It was just hard to care while looking at him. So, against all logic, he simply said: — Ok.
Sunoo blinked, caught off guard. That only made Sunghoon’s resolve stronger. For the first time ever, he felt like maybe he wanted to be under the spot.
Even if he was a case never meant to be solved.