Chapter 2: Yi-moon (2)

"Yoon Yi-moon!"

When the lunch bell rang, Jeongwoo called out loudly, waving him over. Yi-moon stood—then froze. The other kids around Jeongwoo looked just as confused. 

Ignoring them, Jeongwoo dragged Yi-moon over and plopped him down beside him. For Yi-moon, who’d assumed the morning’s oddity was just a passing whim, this was beyond bewildering. The other kids didn’t bother hiding their discomfort—but none dared say anything to Jeongwoo. 

"What, no lunch?" 

"...Why do you—"

"Why don’t you have lunch? You don’t eat?"

"......" 

"Gonna hit the snack bar? Wanna go together?" 

Before Yi-moon could answer, Jeongwoo stood, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the classroom. Yi-moon stumbled after him, trying to make sense of the situation. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t find a reason for any of this. 

"Hey—Oh Jeongwoo." 

On the stair landing, Yi-moon stopped and called out urgently. Jeongwoo, still tugging him along, paused. 

"Huh? What." 

"......"

What are you doing? The words rose to his throat but never made it past his tongue. Yi-moon’s lips moved soundlessly. Other students had stopped to stare. 

"...Let go." 

When he tried to pull free, Jeongwoo’s grip tightened. His eyes crinkled into a cheerful smile. 

"We’re going to the snack bar." 

"I’m not."

"Why? Not eating lunch?" 

"I usually don’t."

Jeongwoo tilted his head, then rolled his eyes upward with a "Hmm." 

"Let go." 

Seizing the chance, Yi-moon yanked his arm free and hurried down the stairs. Thankfully, Jeongwoo didn’t follow. 

Thankfully?

The thought soured his mood. If not thankfully, then what? Did some part of him want to be chased after rejecting kindness? A hollow laugh bubbled up. He kept his eyes on his feet, walking fast—until he found an empty space. Somewhere to finally set down the exhaustion of enduring solitude all day.

***

Yi-moon set down the book and rubbed his stiff eyes. Sitting too long on the cold cement floor had chilled him to the bone. He hadn’t slept a wink after the exorcism ritual and had left the shrine exhausted. 

Lunch break was nearly over, making it awkward to try and nap now. But he didn’t feel like returning to the classroom either. Resting his head on the desk during breaks never ended well—unless he wanted to jolt awake to someone dumping trash on him, it was safer to doze off during class. At least teachers only flicked his forehead or pinched his shoulder, not leave dead mantises by his head. 

"...…" 

But now that Oh Jeongwoo was around, maybe things would be different. 

The thought surfaced before he could stop it. Yi-moon, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly stood up. He didn’t expect much. Being alone was familiar. There were times he even wished someone would just curse at him instead of treating him like air—but after enduring so much senseless malice, he found himself missing the days when no one spoke to him at all. 

The warning bell rang. After hesitating, Yi-moon finally headed back to class. As he tucked the worn-out book under his arm, Shaman Myeongju’s words suddenly came to mind. 

"You find that fun?" 

What had he answered? Maybe nothing. Shaman Myeongju often asked questions with no real meaning behind them. Yi-moon wasn’t used to aimless conversation. The only time he responded effortlessly was when something else borrowed his tongue to speak. 

Just as he stepped through the back door, his phone buzzed. It was Shaman Myeongju. 

"Yeah." 

He answered while sneaking a glance around the classroom. Jeongwoo was hunched over his desk, scribbling something—probably homework due fifth period. 

[That woman from this morning came back. You were right.]

"...Yeah." 

[I asked Mr. Kang to bring chickens. Stop by on your way back and pay him.]

"Got it." 

The class bell rang. Students lingering in the hallway vanished into the room like they’d been sucked in. Yi-moon hung up and stepped inside—only for Jeongwoo to block his path. 

"Hey, you’ve got a phone?" 

Before Yi-moon could react, Jeongwoo snatched it from his hand, punched in his number, and held down the call button. 

"Save my number." 

"...…" 

"Seriously, how old is this thing?" 

Even though the model was at least five years old, the phone was spotless. Jeongwoo clicked his tongue as he handed it back. For some reason, Yi-moon felt embarrassed. He quickly pocketed it and strode to his seat. 

The teacher walked in as soon as he sat down. Yi-moon dug through his bag for his textbook and grabbed a pen. Then his phone buzzed again. Puzzled, he discreetly checked—a text from an unsaved number. 

["Heyo ^0^" ]

Without thinking, he glanced to the right. Jeongwoo grinned and wiggled his fingers. Unsure how to react, Yi-moon ducked his head again. 

[I wanna sit by the window too] 

The phone kept buzzing—when the teacher turned to write on the board, when chaos erupted over homework submissions. 

[I fell on the way to the teacher’s lounge] 

[You know how to text right?]

[But your phone sucks]

[Where did you go at lunch??No one knows where you went]

Every time it vibrated, Yi-moon checked, looked to the far right, and met laughing eyes. He saw the wiggling fingers too. But he couldn’t bring himself to reply. He didn’t have Jeongwoo’s skill for texting under the desk at lightning speed. 

When class ended, Yi-moon bolted to the bathroom. Locked in the farthest stall, he meticulously reread every message from the beginning—times, Jeongwoo’s number, dates. He considered saving the contact but stopped. It wasn’t like he’d ever delete them. He tapped Reply, hesitated, then gave up when the next bell rang. His heart pounded as he slipped the phone back into his pocket and returned to class. 

A strange coincidence—the board read "Self-study" in bold letters. Yi-moon opened a book but kept fidgeting with his phone. Every time he stole a glance at Jeongwoo, their eyes met, and Jeongwoo would grin and wave like he had all the time in the world. 

Still, Yi-moon had no idea what to say or how to say it. 

He gave up and tried to read, but eventually caved. Thumbs hovering, he carefully pressed one letter at a time. 

[Hi] 

The moment he hit send, he reflexively turned off the screen. Half of him hoped it hadn’t gone through; the other half hoped it had. So when Jeongwoo picked up his phone and snorted, Yi-moon couldn’t tell if it was luck or misfortune. 

[Hey, hi] 

But his heart raced all the same when the reply came seconds later. 

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