Eighteen's Bed

Chapter 4.5

After two periods had passed, the front door of the classroom opened cautiously.

If Han Taesan had wanted to avoid attention, choosing the front entrance was a smart move—most of the noise came from the guys hanging around the back door during breaks.

But people who’ve been outside for a long time bring the cold air in with them. And to those who pick up on things quickly, it’s obvious.

Han Taesan was no exception.

"......."

The classroom fell into an eerie silence at his appearance.

Everyone was looking at him.

Maybe he realized how quiet it had gotten because he quickly lowered his head and rushed to his seat—one that had been vacant for quite a while.

It was filthy from being empty for so long, covered in dust and grime. But instead of cleaning it, Taesan just sat down, head bowed.

The hush faded, and a few students let out quiet snickers, just loud enough to be heard.

"Look at that. He actually came back to school. Fucking idiot."

"Hey, he can hear you."

I rested my chin on my hand and thought to myself—Han Taesan really had no luck.

As soon as the classroom settled, the hyena-like bastards who thrived on cheap entertainment found their prey.

The loudest one, as expected, made sure everyone could hear him.

"You know how many gays there are in the world? I read online that in every high school class, there’s supposed to be three."

"Think about it. That means three of us in this room right now are gay. Three!"

"One is Han Junwoo. One is Han Taesan. So who’s the third? Huh? Come on, speak up. Don’t be lurking around, eyeing our asses. I’m giving you a chance—come out while you can."

Ugh. Disgusting.

A tightly balled-up wad of paper flew through the air, striking the loudmouth on the head.

It was all just jokes, of course.

But for Han Taesan, it wasn’t.

From across the room, Go Yohan suddenly looked at me. Our eyes met as if it were fated.

I mouthed, "What?"

Yohan pointed at himself with his index finger.

"Me?"

It sounded like he was asking if I had been looking at him.

I instinctively replied with a scowl.

"What."

Seeing my reaction, Yohan smirked and buried his face in his desk.

Our silent exchange melted into the background noise of the class.

I briefly debated whether I should intervene in the bullying, but I didn’t have to.

By the afternoon, the homeroom teacher stepped in.

"Listen up, all of you!"

The moment she confirmed that Han Taesan had returned, she stormed into the classroom and slammed the attendance book down.

Ridden with guilt over recent events, she glared at the students, searching for the instigators.

"If anyone bullies Taesan, let me know. You can text me. You all know my number, right? I’ll guarantee anonymity. And if you report someone, there will be a reward. But if I catch you being reported—you better be ready. This nonsense ends now. You all know how much trouble this has already caused. Our school got selected as an elite high school this year, and the principal is paying close attention. If things get out of hand, suspensions and even expulsions could be on the table. You get it? You understand how serious this is, right?"

There weren’t many students in our class as bold as Han Junwoo had been.

This wasn’t middle school.

Here, in a high school—especially an academic one—no one was willing to risk their record over some stupid bullying.

Still, the teacher’s threats only made the stubborn ones want to rebel.

But at least it wasn’t bad enough to be noticeable.

"Yeees, ma’am~."

A sluggish response echoed through the room.

But what truly irritated me wasn’t that Han Taesan was being bullied.

It was the occasional glance—his eyes, brushing past mine.

Han Taesan looked at me.

Secretly.

And I pretended not to notice.

From behind, Go Yohan poked my back with his unusually long fingers and hummed.

"Mmmm~."

"What? Stop that."

"Hey. Han Taesan keeps looking at you. A lot. Constantly."

Yohan smirked, his lips curled in mockery.

That smirk pissed me off.

I turned slightly, lowering my voice as I warned him.

"Don’t look at him."

"Why not?"

"Because if he realizes I know he’s looking at me, it’ll get weird. I don’t want that. I’m ignoring it."

"Damn, but he’s staring so longingly at you. You really don’t care?"@@@@

"I don’t. So shut up."

"Hmm."

Yohan covered his mouth with his hand, laughing softly, then waved me off.

"Fine, fine. Face forward."

I glanced at his hand for a moment before turning back and focusing on the lesson.

When class ended, I packed my bag.

Go Yohan tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

I turned to see him clicking his tongue and forming a finger gun with his hand, pretending to shoot at me.

"Let’s go together."

"I’m heading home."

"Yeah, me too."

"You hate Han Junwoo?"

I was genuinely shocked.

Not the kind of reaction you fake, but an instinctive outburst.

I mean, sure, considering how badly they fought, Yohan probably hated him now.

But the way he said it—it sounded like he’d hated Junwoo from the start.

Like it was something obvious.

But instead of answering, Yohan just smirked wider, amused by my surprise.

"Wow. Look at you pretending not to know. You’re so fake."

"No, but... since when? Recently? Or even before that?"

Theories crept into my mind.

Go Yohan.

A devout Catholic.

Was it because of that?

Because of homosexuality?

Had Junwoo done something gay to make Yohan hate him?

A sickening weight dropped in my stomach.

A heavy lump, like a lead weight strapped to my chest.

It felt gross.

It felt wrong.

It felt disgusting.

Yohan straightened his back, staring down at me, then clicked his tongue.

"Tch."

The tone, the look—

Like he was scolding me.

I averted my eyes, staring at the ground for a moment, before cautiously glancing back at his face.

He seemed to think about something.

Then, abruptly, he changed the subject.

"Oh yeah. You know why Junwoo isn’t coming back?"

"For fuck’s sake."

I half-raised my fist in a mock threat.

Honestly, I didn’t want to hear the previous answer.

Maybe it was self-defense.

Maybe it was guilt.

Either way, I really didn’t want to hear something that awful.

"What?"

Yohan lowered his head further, pressing his hand even closer to my ear.

His whisper was sharper now.

"His family went bankrupt."

"...What?"

Did my voice shake just now?

I think it did.

Because—how could it not?

I squinted at him, wondering if this was just another one of his lies.

But Yohan, that smug bastard, just smiled wickedly.

"They’re completely fucked. His dad? The company was already struggling, but now there’s embezzlement charges on top of that. Lost his position. Lost his business. And what does he have left? A son? A kid who’s an academic failure, young as shit, and now caught up in all these nasty rumors? No power left. His uncle, who was just waiting for this moment, took everything."

"Junwoo’s a fucking beggar now."

"That piece of shit who looked down on Han Taesan, who looked down on our entire class? He’s poorer than all of us now."

"Oh, and get this—his dad’s getting arrested soon. Might even end up on TV. But hey. That’s just between you and me."

Something thumped against my chest.

A small, knocking sensation.

Yohan’s finger.

Tapping against me.

I stopped walking.

My head tilted slightly, and in my peripheral vision, I caught his face—sharp, cold, and self-assured.

Yohan tilted his lips into a confident smirk.

"I’m not lying about this one."

I had a bad feeling.

And my instincts were rarely wrong.

This wasn’t a lie.

I took a step back.

But Yohan shattered the moment just as easily as he’d dropped the bomb.

"Oh, right. Jun, I think I’m fucking stupid."

"...What?"

"I left my homework at school. Fuck, I’m an idiot."

"The one due tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck, I’m screwed. I gotta go back and get it."

A light punch landed against my chest.

"See ya tomorrow. Sorry I can’t walk you home."

I didn’t know if my chest had cracked under the weight of it.

But for some reason, it felt like something wet was about to leak out from deep inside.

And just like that—

Yohan turned away, walking off ahead.