Eighteen's Bed-Chapter 30.4

In an all-boys’ school, an unfunny bastard is worse than an actual bastard.

But those who hate bastards still hang out with him. Because he’s smart. Because his family has money.

Of course, I figured he was some rich kid from a well-off family.

And deep down, I was disappointed in him. How does someone live without messing around? For the first time, I gave that goody-goody pushover a minus score. I wholeheartedly agreed with the kids who hated bad people. The kind of person who ruins the mood by getting all serious is the worst. Just like Choi Sunghyun.

After lunch, near the school store, a great idea struck me—almost like divine revelation, urging me to mess with this guy. And I, being a devoted follower, decided to act immediately.

"Sunghyun-ah. I can’t open this. Can you do it for me?"

"The hell did you just say? You can’t open a bottle cap? Yo, Yohan, you’re such a weakling."

"Yeah, I'm a weakling."

It’s not like I’m planning to do anything bad. Just a little prank. I like pranks.

Choi Sunghyun reached to snatch the bottle from me, but I tightened my grip. The way he struggled, unable to pull it away, made me grin. Ah, just imagining what’s about to happen is making me laugh. What do I do?

Sunghyun’s attempts to take the bottle ended in complete failure. His suspicious expression made it even harder to hold back my laughter, and I let out a sharp breath through my nose.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

"I have rhinitis."

"Since when?"

I waved my hand dismissively, then tilted the bottle’s cap toward Sunghyun.

"Hurry up and open it. I’m thirsty."

"Ah, shit. You’re so annoying. If I open this, you owe me ten bucks."

"Okay."

"This isn’t soda, right?"

I made an 'O' shape with my hand. Sunghyun smiled and twisted the bottle cap open with all his strength. Crack. The cap, untouched until now, popped off effortlessly. He looked slightly proud of himself, shrugging his shoulders, but I finally let out the laughter I had been holding in.

At the same time, I clenched the bottle tightly in my grip.

The plastic crumpled miserably in my hands, and the displaced water shot out, soaking Sunghyun’s smug face in an instant.

"Haha, ahaha!"

"You little—! Fuck!"

"Wow, holy shit, Yohan, he actually fell for it? Ah, fuck, he looks so stupid! How did he fall for that?"

A chorus of malicious laughter erupted from all around. The audience, eagerly waiting for my prank, was thoroughly entertained. I had proudly declared that I would splash Sunghyun before even buying the bottle. Everyone had been anticipating it. They loved it. The greatest happiness for the greatest number. Utilitarian joy had arrived in our classroom.

"You scared the shit out of me, you bastard!"

Even Sunghyun, after wiping off his shock, started laughing along. He must’ve found it funny. The bright classroom felt incredibly satisfying.

But he apparently hates stuff like this.

I stared at the half-empty bottle in my hand, then casually tossed it toward Sunghyun.

Licking the drink off my fingers, I muttered,

"Hey, you guys go up first."

"The fuck, Yohan, why?"

"If I stick around you guys, I’ll get dirty too."

A Grade 1 water source can’t be next to Grade 5 filth.

I kindly explained to these future pieces of garbage why we couldn’t possibly coexist.

"Go ahead and live like trash. Bye."

"You fucking—"

Not long ago, Kim Minho, whom I had beaten up, started mouthing off again, so I flipped him the middle finger.

And so, my ten-minute stroll began. The grainy sand crunched beneath my indoor slippers. The asphalt road near the west wing's back entrance was fine, but near the front entrance of the east wing, the sand from the schoolyard always made itself known.

"Now that I think about it, I like this kind of thing too."

This old-fashioned stuff. Maybe I like it after all.

"Yeah, I do like it."

My lies begin when the truth becomes unbearable.

And I repeat them until I forget the truth altogether.

A pleasant lie is better than an unpleasant truth.

Chasing only the good things, my life has become a series of cheerful lies.

Last Christmas, Gorosa asked me.

"Was what you said… really true?"

As if. You idiot. Why the hell would I like a guy?

I sneered at the thought of Gorosa, who wasn’t even here, then suddenly, my laughter died.

Beneath the hallway connecting the west and east wings, in the dim alleyway between buildings—

He was there.

Him.

Kang Jun.

Kang Jun was standing there, holding a fully melted green tea ice cream, staring at me with a profoundly stupid expression.

"……Oh."

Why?

A strange, tingling sensation bloomed near my heart, and my breathing felt constricted. I pressed my palm hard against my chest, rubbing firmly.

"Ah, fuck… Why…"

I struck the center of my chest with my fist.

Even as I did, I couldn’t stop myself from taking a step forward.

He really was looking at me.

Why?

Was he seriously going to greet me?

The tightness in my chest wound even tighter, suffocating.

Then, from the trash can between us, I sensed movement.

A cigarette, exhaled smoke curling from the nostrils of the culprit hidden in the alley between buildings.

Smoking?

I frowned at the utterly disgusting sight. White smoke drifting from his nose—it was nothing but repulsive.

That bastard was definitely going to hell. Breaking school rules like it was nothing. If he wanted to smoke, he should at least wait until he was an adult.

Kang Jun, being such a rigid little goody-two-shoes, would definitely hate something like this.

A surge of satisfaction washed over me.

I don’t smoke.

You don’t either, right?

I pictured him in my mind, surely sharing the same disdain for Han Junwoo as I did.

Then I looked back at him.

And he… smiled brightly.

I quickly glanced around.

There were a few people walking by, but none he would be interested in.

Which meant the only person he could be smiling at—

Was me.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

Then his voice burst out, bright and clear, like a pomegranate splitting open.

"Junwoo-ya!"

"……What."

Kang Jun ran toward the trash can.

Ran into the smoke-filled air.

I followed his gaze—an all-too-familiar face appeared.

And Kang Jun stood beside him, staring silently at the bastard sitting there smoking.

Kang Jun…

He was Han Junwoo’s fucking lapdog.

"Fuck."

Wasn’t he supposed to be an uptight, serious little shit?

Then why the fuck was he just standing there watching that filthy bastard smoke?

What a joke.

If he’s funny, then does that mean Kang Jun is funny?

That doesn’t add up logically.

You can’t be boring and funny at the same time.

Can you?

Pressing my wrist against my uncomfortably tight chest, I indulged in a little philosophical reflection.

Being boring yet funny—two conflicting states.

So does that mean Kang Jun himself is contradictory?

Fuck, this guy is insane.

I was beginning to dislike him more and more.

The plus points he once had were plummeting endlessly.

That night, unable to suppress the impulse, I grabbed Kang Jun’s face with one hand and squeezed it so hard it looked like it might burst.

The way he gasped and clung desperately to my wrist was quite the sight.

****

Summer was coming to an end.

The house where magnolias once bloomed now had nothing but exhausted trees.

So dazzling in the spring, but once the blossoms fell, the monstrous fruit was all that remained.

Magnolia trees weren’t all that beautiful.

Almost pitiful, even.

So, in the span of a year, this house was only beautiful for a few fleeting days.

"You can’t just look at the garden in the spring."

No, but… that does make sense, doesn’t it?

I hadn’t lived here long, just enough to watch the neighbor’s magnolia tree through the seasons.

But not once had I seen an actual homeowner.

Only a single middle-aged woman came and went, but she didn’t seem wealthy enough to own a place like that.

"A haunted house, maybe?"

It was a suspicious house.

If I opened the farthest right window in my living room, I could see the neighbor’s gate from a slanted angle.

Sometimes, I stared at that eerily silent house and let my imagination run wild.

Maybe an old geezer, wasting away inside, lived there.

Or maybe the geezer’s mistress.

Shit, if someone bought her a house like that, he wouldn’t be just any old man.

Would his withered dick even get hard?

Imagination was fun.

It satisfied the curiosity that reality never could.

Especially for someone like me, who lived a houseplant’s existence, unable to do anything.

A vegetative state doesn’t only exist in hospitals.

If anyone fit that description, it was me.

I sprawled onto my bed, my body collapsing like a ragdoll.

And just like that, my train of thought derailed from absurd speculation…

Right back to Han Junwoo.

Right back to Kang Jun.

Lying on my back, my vision filled with a familiar face.

Kang Jun.

Crawling on the floor, sniveling and whimpering.

Snot dripping from his nose, saliva pooling from his lips.

His pale skin was covered in wounds—some fresh, others already scabbed over, as if blood might leak at any moment.

Ah, what a sight.

I couldn’t see his expression, since his eyes were covered this time.

But his frantic scrambling to escape, only to collapse to the ground, was amusing enough.

Where had he been hit?

His veins were bulging.

His skin peeled raw in places, exposing red flesh.

"It suits him."

My lips curled upward on their own.

The thought was entertaining, and my body felt lighter.

I easily lifted my once-heavy limbs and, without hesitation, grabbed Kang Jun’s frantically moving hair.

He was obviously in pain, but the stubborn bastard refused to scream.

How insolent.

Not even a single cry?

I let go and yanked the blanket over his flailing body.

Then I wrapped it tightly, so tight it must’ve been suffocating.

I pressed down hard, pulling the blanket even tighter.

The thrashing beneath me grew wilder at first, then gradually weakened.

Then—nothing.

The weight beneath my hands felt… wrong.

Unpleasant.

Frowning, I sat up and ran a hand through my hair.

…Am I dangerous?

No, I only imagined it.

"If thoughts were a crime, every bastard in the world would be on death row."

I cooled my head and reconsidered.

The memory of that body, struggling in an inhuman state beneath the covers, lingered.

A feeling I couldn’t quite define sat heavy in my chest.

"Why did I do that?"

I wasn’t planning to imagine that far.

Even if it was indirect, I had imagined killing someone.

I had to be insane.

What do I do?

Am I actually going to hell?

Anxiety loomed over me like a massive storm cloud.

I chewed at my thumbnail before throwing on the closest zip-up hoodie over my bare skin.

The silent hallway was empty as I strode through it, then I kicked open the front door and stepped outside.

My shoelace feels loose.

As I walked down the sidewalk, I didn’t look at the ground. Instead, I focused on a spire, three rooftops away.

It was a pitch-black night.

Silent night, holy night.

Everything asleep, except for the faithful and holy ones, Mary and Joseph.

The curly-haired, pure little boy was sleeping in heaven.

The moment the familiar hymn surfaced in my mind, I exhaled sharply and sprinted toward the direction of the church.

And then—

I was immediately fucked over by my own thoughts.

"……."

That’s… Kang Jun.

Despite it being vacation, Kang Jun was walking down the pitch-dark road, still in his school uniform.

And he was heading straight toward me.

His face was obscured by the shadows of the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) streetlights, but I could tell for sure—it was him.

Fuck, why?

Why, of all times? Why now? Why is he coming this way?

Someone had poured ice water over my brain.

The cold seeped into every crevice of my mind.

Flooding. Drowning.

He was twenty steps away.

No—nineteen.

Kang Jun, who had been staring at the ground, slowly began to lift his head.

"……."

The orange glow of the streetlights reflected in his dark brown eyes.

It was just the two of us on the road.

The time was around 12:30 AM.

This neighborhood should’ve been dead silent.

I felt like something had grabbed the back of my neck and locked my body in place.

Kang Jun was looking at me.

He was looking at me.

…Am I supposed to greet him first?

I couldn’t think beyond that.

Because now, he was only five steps away.

Because now, our eyes had met.

My body instinctively searched for past habits.

Just as I had once done before, I awkwardly raised a hand.

And naturally, I spoke.

"Ah, hey."

Kang Jun’s eyes closed, then slowly reopened.

He does these strange little actions sometimes.

For the first time, I wetted my lips, waiting to hear his voice directed at me.

How would he respond to my greeting?

Whenever he looked at that bastard Han Junwoo, he was always laughing.

Would he smile at me the same way?

Three steps.

Two steps.

"……."

His fluttering black hair brushed past me.

And then, he walked right by.

No emotion in his eyes.

A faint breeze stirred as he passed, carrying with it the tiny sound of music leaking from his earbuds.

Kang Jun turned his head slightly—just enough to glance at some vague figure in the distance.

Then, without hesitation, he turned back forward and kept walking.

That was it.

I stood frozen between the streetlights, blankly staring into space.

And as I stood there…

I finally imagined it.

My hands wrapped around Kang Jun’s neck, strangling the life out of him.

The feeling of soft flesh beneath my fingertips.

An unbearably strong catharsis flooded me—both the best and worst sensation at once.

****

Kang Jun is Evil

And as God’s servant, it was my duty to save myself from evil.

The simplest form of salvation was escape.

There was no need for any elaborate plan.

Twice a year, I was allowed to see my mother in the U.S.

It was the one rule she had insisted on when she agreed to share her life with my father.

She wanted to flaunt her successful marriage.

And she wanted to present her fully grown child as proof of that success when she visited my grandmother.

So for the first time, I went to America of my own volition.

Yes.

It was time I acknowledged the emotions that had been rattling me.

Curled up in a ball, I pulled the blanket over myself.

Lying in the unlit airplane cabin, completely covered, my breath grew stifling.

The blanket filled with humidity.

Eventually, I couldn’t stand the suffocating heat anymore and pulled it off.

Cold, dry air rushed over my skin.

The blanket was damp—only in the spot where it had covered my eyes.

"Kang Jun, you fucking bastard."

I wasn’t crying because I was sad.

It was anger.

Pure, seething anger that had nowhere to go.

I had no special reason for it.

I just hated Kang Jun.

I gripped the cross hanging from my rosary.

Raised my legs.

Curled my body even tighter.

Like an insect hardening before its metamorphosis.

Where am I right now?

Floating in the middle of the ocean, I guess.

A vast, dark sea, devoid of even a single light.

Is this how an astronaut feels, lost in space?

Empty.

Lonely.

By the time vacation ended, there was no reason for me to ever see Kang Jun again.

I had successfully saved myself from evil.

At school, I dealt with it through imagination and prayer.

If I ever caught sight of Kang Jun, even by accident, I strangled him in my mind.

Kicked him.

Shoved him out a window.

And it was completely justified.

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Kang Jun deserved it.

Though, sometimes, I forgot my divine mission and found myself looking him up on my phone.

Fuck. Kang Jun really is the devil.

And then, one day—

After he had died thousands of times inside my head—

I saw the class roster for second year.

And right above my name, listed in alphabetical order, was his.

Kang Jun.

"Ah."

Doom was approaching once again.

"Fuck me."