A raspy voice echoed through the kindergarten hallway. Kim Namjoon was gripping my hand tightly, biting his lower lip. His eyes were flushed red, as if he was about to cry, and seconds later, he threw himself into my arms. Then, he moved one of his hands to his back and looked at me pitifully. Surrounded by the flustered adults, I simply patted Kim Namjoon on the back. Mom told me to take good care of Namjoon, so I had to treat him kindly. With that single thought in mind, I hugged Kim Namjoon, not even imagining what his rotten lack of affection and obsession would lead to.
lack of whiteness
Jeong Ha-yan. It was such a unique name that it was the perfect excuse for teasing. However, ever since that name was given to her, Ha-yan had lived with Kim Nam-joon, so she never worried about being left alone. Since Nam-joon's parents both worked, Nam-joon often had to spend time alone, so they simply asked Ha-yan's parents, who were friends with them, to let Nam-joon stay at Ha-yan's house often. At first, Nam-joon would burst into tears the moment he saw Ha-yan, causing Ha-yan's mother quite a struggle. Momentarily flustered, Ha-yan let go of her mother's leg, which she had been holding tightly, and walked towards Nam-joon.
"Are you Namjoon?"
"..."
"Do you want to be friends?"
When her fern-like hand reached out before him, Namjoon grabbed Hayan's without a moment's hesitation. Tears fell to the living room floor before they could even gather. Those short, ashen fingers felt incredibly warm compared to his pure white palm. This was the first feeling Hayan had ever felt when holding Namjoon's hand. From that day on, Namjoon became particularly fixated on Hayan. He wanted Hayan, he wanted to be with her, he even thought he wished there was no one else beside him. Even as he often pulled out his hair, telling himself to come to his senses while harboring such impure, ungrateful thoughts, he resolved from that moment on: to stop caring about anything Hayan did. That was a pledge he made when he was sixteen, and on January 1st, when he had just become an adult, he made this pledge.
"i like you."
"what?"
"I like you..."
Never drink in front of Jeong Ha-yan. He thought it was a terrible friendship, and he believed this conclusion would be easier for her to accept. Nevertheless, Namjoon had already been forced to give in to the irresistible purity of Jeong Ha-yan. He brainwashed himself into thinking he couldn't help but love her, and that it was all because of Jeong Ha-yan. The ending was a drunken confession, and thankfully, thanks to her trashy drinking capacity and the film, it all went down like it never happened. It was nothing more than a dark memory, remembered only by himself.
However, just because things passed like that, Namjoon's heart didn't settle down. Far from settling down, his heart grew bigger every time he saw Hayan, and his obsession with her grew to the point where he even attempted to run away. If Hayan came home even a little late, he'd stay at her house, even if it was next door, or loiter in the first-floor hallway. If Hayan went out drinking, he'd find a bar and bring her home himself. This was how Namjoon stopped brainwashing himself and became convinced.
"You're late again, you drunkard..."
I think I like Jeong Ha-yan. No, I think I'm obsessed with her.
***
Ha-am. Hayan yawned briefly and looked around. How did I even walk all the way to bed? My whole body ached, and my stomach was churning like it was refluxing. I felt like I'd throw up at any moment if I didn't eat something spicy. Even though I'm a good drinker, three days in a row was too much. I have to go again today... I stumbled, cautiously opening the door to the smell of ramen wafting from somewhere, only to find a familiar figure occupying the kitchen.
"Are you awake?"
"Get out of the kitchen right now."
"I know how to boil ramen too."
"Okay, I'll do it, so just eat."
Hayan, realizing that the familiar figure was Kim Namjoon, sat him down on the sofa in shock. She didn't want to burn down the house, which still had a long time left on its lease. She didn't have time to bother Namjoon, who grumbled, "I can at least boil ramen." She'd been busy turning off the gas to protect the ramen, which threatened to overflow at any moment. It was a chaotic morning.
"I told you, you're welcome to come to my house, but please don't go into the kitchen."
"There's condition in the refrigerator."
"Yeah, that's great, but the kitchen,"
“I also put bean sprouts in the ramen.”
"Okay, I understand. But the kitchen,"
"Oh, and I bought some ice cream too."
"omg."
Namjoon knew Hayan all too well. He'd learned long ago how to avoid nagging, how to approach her in a way that would end in gratitude. He knew that the day after a night of drinking, he needed a bowl of ramen with lots of bean sprouts and a scoop of ice cream to calm his stomach, so he'd wake up early and wander around the supermarket. I'm so dedicated... I sighed.
"Are you free today?"
"No. I ended up having to retake the class because of you."
Hayan, who had been eating ramen slowly, gradually slowed down. What did she just say...? If Namjoon's words are true, it means he took a break from class or something, but since he's already filled up all the remaining days of absence, it really meant that Namjoon had to retake the class. That crazy guy. As soon as he said that out loud, Namjoon burst out laughing while lying on the sofa, saying that he had to retake the class anyway. Should I kill him? He gritted his teeth until he finally realized and showed signs of running away, saying that he would go home.
"Where are you going?"
"Miss, I told you to break this habit."
"Oh, sorry."
As usual, I grabbed Namjoon by the hoodie and pulled him down, and as expected, he fell down with a thud and lay on the floor, his face covered in white.He glared at her as if he was going to kill her. Of course you'd slip if you grabbed your hat, you punk. She apologized and clung to Namjoon's sleeve, acting cute. He blushed for a while before finally returning to his own home. Namjoon was so transparent that it was impossible to understand why he was trying so hard to hide his obvious presence. At least, that's how it seemed to Hayan.
"I'm going to go, really."
Of course, the Namjoon I've described so far might seem like just another young man with unrequited love. However, there was something else to be aware of. Kim Namjoon was "obsessed" with Jung Ha-yan. That meant he wanted all of Jung Ha-yan's attention to himself. Sometimes, even he knew he was being crazy, but he couldn't stop his obsession. It was an inevitable process.
The house was ruined. More precisely, the very fabric of the family was ruined. Both parents worked, but it wasn't for the family. Any modest wealth was for divorce, for self-preservation, and Namjoon received absolutely no attention. Sending young Namjoon off to Hayan's house, leaving him with such a deprivation, was the problem. It was the beginning of an endless obsession, a thirst for unbridled warmth.
"If you mess with me one more time, I'll really break up with you."
"··· Are you going to abandon me too?"
"What are you talking about all of a sudden?"
"Are you going to abandon me too? I, I only have you now, and you too, me, me..."
Even with the playful remark, Namjoon couldn't laugh. From the day he first met Hayan, Hayan had already taken up Namjoon's day, or perhaps even more, his life. "My day is all about you." A quote straight out of a book floated through Namjoon's head. "Really. If you weren't in my day, I..." Namjoon gasped, barely able to breathe. Hayan, seeing Namjoon suddenly burst into tears while joking, couldn't help but hug him like they had in the kindergarten hallway when he was five. The Namjoon filling her arms overlapped with the Namjoon of that time, and at the same time, she felt a sense of disconnect.
"Don't throw it away."
"Don't throw it away, don't throw it away."
"If you leave me, I,"
"······."
"I'll just die."
I'll starve to death. I'll die a thousand times, cut by your cold gaze, twisted and lonely, thirsty for love and affection. If I could, I'd do anything to end this miserable life.
Their eyes, filled with madness, met with those of bewilderment. Though the words were spoken softly, Hayan couldn't take them positively. It was as if Namjoon would die if she left. She couldn't take it as a joke, feeling as if the boy would chill like a corpse at any moment. Still, all she could say was this.
"How can I abandon you?"
And for some, just this one word can bring back the meaning of life. Namjoon rubbed his eyes against Ha-yan's shoulder. His gray hoodie was streaked with tears. Did I just suddenly react? It was something he'd always thought, but it was the first time he'd said it out loud. Seeing Namjoon belatedly notice, Ha-yan simply laughed it off.
In that awkward laughter, Namjoon felt a sense of distance.
Kim Namjoon, who had left our house earlier, rang the doorbell again and came to our house. "What's going on?" I asked, and as soon as I opened the door, I saw Namjoon and smiled. I thought he was talking outside, but he came back into the living room and was laying out various things. I looked around and found a pile of papers, everything from laptops to academic papers.
"What are you doing?"
"I have to do the dishes and cleaning anyway, so I'll spend the day at your house while I'm at it."
"I'm not home today."
"Where are you going?"
"New Year's party. I wasn't going to go, but Ga-eun unnie is staying for a long time so I'm going."
Namjoon, who questioned the reason for the response that followed his own, had no choice but to agree with Hayan. He knew that if Ga-eun, Hayan's spiritual pillar and only female acquaintance, had called, she would go no matter what, even if he had to hold her back. Plugging his laptop charger into the power outlet, Namjoon continued.
"Then are you late again today?"
"I'm not sure, but I don't think he'll come early."
"Come in before 2 o'clock."
"why?"
The innocent, unintentional question left her breathless. What should she say? "I need you to come because I miss you," "I can't live without you," she said. "I'd feel like giving up on life at any moment without you," she said. She wasn't in a position to utter such selfish words as "come quickly for my sake." At least to Namjoon, Hayan was an indefinite A. Calling herself B meant Hayan held her life in her hands. Therefore, no B could dare command A.
"No. Just come in whenever you want."
"I'll be back soon."
With a slam of the door, Namjoon was left behind once again. Not even his own, but Hayan's house, a house filled with the smell of ramen. His eyes hadn't even dried yet. The red, puffy bags beneath his eyes were quite pitiful. "Oh, I miss you already." He bit his lip silently. Even the blood flowing out was lonely. At least he didn't look like a lunatic. He licked the blood from his lips with his tongue and headed for the kitchen.
I scrubbed a pot in the sink. Then, alone, I found another goal. If I just do this, Jeong Ha-yan will come. If I just do the dishes, if I just clean, if I just sleep, if I just eat dinner, if I just finish this assignment, if I just call, if I just wait patiently...
-Ah, Namjoon. It's Gaeun.
-"Oh, sis. How have you been?"
-How have you been? It's just that Hayani is really drunk and I need to take her home. Could you give me her address?
-"I'll just go."
What if I just wait? Jeong Ha-yan doesn't notice my waiting. So I have to approach her. I have to let her know. That I've been waiting for you like this, that I've filled today with only you. The lips and nails I unconsciously bit were all out of place. I want to be consumed by you. I want to live for Jeong Ha-yan. The strings of the hoodie I'd hastily put on were uneven, swaying. I pulled my baseball cap tightly down and left the house, thinking for a long time. If you don't come, I will. Because I absolutely cannot be without you.
"Where is Jeong Ha-yan?"
"Ah, here... Huh? It was there?"
"yes?"
A sudden, animalistic intuition, something beyond human, struck him. Jeong Ha-yan rarely went out when he was drinking. As he continued to bite his lip, growing anxious, someone uttered a single word, and Namjoon felt his blood run cold. It had been a while since he felt such a dirty feeling.
"Didn't Senior Jeongwoo take you earlier?···?"
"Oh, right. The two of them are going to buy ice cream.···."
"Ah, shit." Namjoon spat out in a low voice. "This is why you're nervous about going out drinking alone, Hayan." Blood flowed from various places on his lips. But this time, he didn't even think about treating it. He simply pressed his teeth against the wounds and left the store, carrying Hayan's belongings. "I didn't like that bastard Jeongwoo from the start. The fact that Jeonghayan was interested in him already made me think he was ready to take a beating." He gritted his teeth.
Even after wandering around the neighborhood supermarket and returning to the store, Hayan was nowhere to be found. As Hayan's presence vanished, he grew increasingly impatient. Only after searching through his handbag and realizing Hayan's phone was gone did he call her. Seconds later, a melody rang out from nowhere, sending Namjoon into a frenzied sprint. Perhaps he should have been faster, a scene he couldn't shake from his mind.
"Oh, senior, just a moment.···!"
"White."
"Don't do it···!"
It was forced. It was obvious to anyone that it was forced. After that, he didn't think about anything else. He just kept running, punching the bastard Jeongwoo in the face dozens of times. After seeing Hayan shed tears of relief upon finding him, he couldn't control himself. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill him. Even as he hit Jeongwoo, tears streamed down his face. Why on earth can't I be by Jeongha Hayan's side? His resentment toward Jeongha Hayan and his hatred for Kim Jeongwoo kept him from stopping his punches.
"Stop it, Namjoon."
"Dog, like, pup."
"Stop it, Kim Namjoon!"
At the sharp voice, his whole body automatically froze. Jungwoo was looking at Namjoon with fearful eyes. Only then did Namjoon, realizing the situation, slowly began to back away. What had I done? What had Junghayan just been through? How did this even happen? His memories were incinerated, as if he had lost consciousness. He couldn't remember anything. Perhaps it was because the hatred had ignited and willingly consumed him. Blood began to flow again from Namjoon's swollen, split lip. He thought he had only grazed Jungwoo's struggling, but it seemed he had been hit quite hard.
"Namjoon."
"I, I am like that···."
"I'm fine. Thank you for helping me."
Hayan, having reported the incident to the police, grabbed Namjoon's trembling shoulder. "I'm getting such a tumultuous impression, too." The clock was already ticking toward three. Namjoon was still afraid. It wasn't just the anxiety that the police might arrest him. He was afraid Hayan would hate him. Or fear him. He couldn't hide the trembling in his pupils, afraid that Hayan would resent him for fanning his immediate senior to the point of death.
"It's getting really late."
"······."
"You should go to sleep soon too. Let's go."
Hayan, who had been trying to comfort Namjoon, seemed to be slowly getting up, but then she got up. Namjoon, still crouching beside Hayan, carefully grabbed her sleeve. After Hayan thanked him, all the convulsions stopped. It was a reminder that he couldn't live without Hayan, and the thought struck him deeply. Impulsively, Namjoon spoke.
"Can't you just be a little more aware?···."
Still half-drunk, her eyes drifted to Namjoon. "What should I know?" The words spilled out without a second thought, but Namjoon's reaction was a little strange. The way he clenched his teeth while still shedding tears like this morning was similar to the expression he gave Jungwoo earlier. He'd never made that expression to me before. Hayan sobered up. Damn Kim Namjoon always manages to recreate his dark past. With that tone of voice, that expression, so distant.
"I like you."
"what?"
"I really like you···."
What was so painful about the words "I like you"? He mumbled twice before burying his face in his knees. "Hey, are you crying?" Hayan, who tapped Namjoon's shoulder with a look of embarrassment, was still pure white. That infinite pure white that Namjoon so coveted. He wanted to make confessions cool, but why was it so pathetic and inadequate both times? Namjoon kept berating himself.
"······."
"But is there anyone who doesn't know that?"
What? Hayan, who blurted out an unexpected answer, acted as if nothing had surprised her. Her reaction was as expected. Namjoon hadn't prioritized himself over Hayan for her sake, and Hayan hadn't even considered them friends when Namjoon decided to learn self-restraint around the age of 16. Back then, she'd thought their relationship was more of a master-servant relationship, but now, well...
"It's a two-way street."
"what."
"You and me."
"··· What is that."
"I really like you too."
How dare you say something like that with that pretty smile? How dare you say something like that with that expression? Namjoon, who had been crouching, looked up at Hayan and immediately jumped up when he heard her words. What did you just say...? Namjoon thought that even his own hands seemed to be trembling. Hayan, who must have felt it only herself, noticed Namjoon's fingertips trembling and reached out and intertwined her hands.
"No, wait a minute... So we..."
"Do you want to date me?"
"oh my god···."
Namjoon couldn't help but exclaim in amazement. Am I dreaming? Am I dreaming this dream where I beat up that bastard Jungwoo and got dragged off to the detention center, then fell asleep there...? He squeezed his eyes shut as his vision dimmed. He'd always thought such a scene was something he shouldn't even dare imagine in his dreams, something he considered sinful. He was simply astonished.
"I'm really obsessed..."
"I know very well."
"There are also deficiencies..."
"I know that too."
"I love you a lot more than you think, and that's okay, right?"
"Hey, I confessed first. Stop talking nonsense and just hold my hand properly."
The loosely held clasp tightened at Ha-yan's single touch. Ha-yan's slender fingers seemed to stimulate every nerve in Namjoon. Ha-yan felt the same way. Even this moment, when those ashen fingers of five years old intertwined with my clear fingers, felt like a dream.
"Why don't you do it?"
"What."
"I mean, a kiss."
"Can I do it...?"
Hayan, letting out a short, frustrated sigh, was the first to pull Namjoon's neck in for a kiss. Namjoon's eyes widened, unable to do anything. He thought this was something that only happened in dreams. His heart felt like it was going to burst at any moment. Hayan smiled slightly at Namjoon, who was still frozen stiff, and placed his hand, which was floating around in a daze, on her waist.
After that, I honestly don't remember much. From the moment Ha-yan's waist and Namjoon's hands met, I just acted completely absorbed in the moment. Even after the kiss, Namjoon, still holding his foreheads tightly, uttered the words he'd practiced hundreds of times with difficulty. It felt like my entire body, not just my heart, was on fire.
"love you."
"I love you, Namjoon."
A sweet voice echoed through the narrow alley.