BW Ch 1.1: Another Room

Lee Shinwoo’s school days had been relatively smooth. He had not been particularly bullied, nor had he burned a midnight oil lamp studying for entrance exams to the point of getting nosebleeds. Rather, both his studies and his academic advancement were relatively easy. This was thanks to a bit of talent he had acquired from his mother, who ran a dance academy in a small provincial city. He had gained special admission to a prestigious private high school in a nearby metropolitan area and had been selected as a full-scholarship student for three years. He had been quite lucky.

Lee Shinwoo enjoyed physical activity. He possessed a certain degree of talent. Without it, transferring from a minor school in a small town, a place where even the locals would tilt their heads in confusion if asked his name, to a prestigious private high school in a metropolitan area would have been absolutely impossible. It was something he could have been justifiably proud of, even boastful about.

However, Lee Shinwoo would not overestimate his abilities. On the contrary, he understood the limits of his talent better than anyone. While he had once been called a prodigy, Lee Shinwoo’s physical abilities were below average. His ability to realistically assess himself and his keen sense of reality were his most fortunate traits.

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After receiving his high school acceptance letter, Lee Shinwoo would not take his good fortune for granted. He was grateful and worked hard not to squander the opportunity he had been given. Every day, every moment, he realized he lacked the innate talent to reach the top, yet he would not be easily discouraged. He would do his best to bridge that gap however small it might be. He had been recognized for his diligence, but that was all.

He was perpetually stuck at a level below second place, not even worthy of a supporting role beside the lead. Despite this, Lee Shinwoo would not quit physical training. He enjoyed the stillness of the moment when he leaped with all his might, and the tension that stretched his entire body taut. That alone was reward enough.

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As he was heading back to his dormitory after practice, as usual, someone stopped him. It was the dormitory supervisor. A perpetual civil service exam taker. The supervisor was one of the school’s external staff members. He was taciturn and would not speak to anyone outside of work matters. When Lee Shinwoo heard from him about the room transfer, he could not hide his bewilderment.

Changing dormitories or roommates without a special reason was against the basic rules. Even a fight to the death would not warrant a roommate change. The rules were so resistant to change that only a natural disaster, like a collapsing wall, would justify a room transfer.

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Moreover, it was the middle of the semester. There was nothing wrong with his current dormitory, and Lee Shinwoo’s relationship with his roommate was not bad. In fact, they got along quite well due to their similar personalities.

However, the dormitory supervisor would not address Lee Shinwoo’s questions. He displayed his irritation, ordering Lee Shinwoo to pack his belongings and move immediately. His impatience stemmed from Lee Shinwoo’s perceived slowness, which he felt was wasting his time.

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Though surprised by the sudden announcement, Lee Shinwoo would not waste his energy arguing with the dormitory supervisor. He was exhausted from practicing all day. While slightly annoyed, he had no particular aversion to the front room.

Above all, he was not someone who fussed over details. He would do what he could in any given situation. That was Lee Shinwoo’s way. He assumed there must be a reason and would not bother asking about the justification for the transfer. In truth, he lacked the social skills to challenge the dormitory supervisor based on the illogical nature of the situation.

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His roommate, an art student admitted for his special skills, was still absent, presumably in the art studio. His textbooks, ballet shoes, a few clothes, and the rest of his belongings fit easily into a single bag.

He left a short note for his roommate, with whom he was on amicable, if not particularly close terms.

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– I’m moving to another room.

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After writing the note, he realized he had not been told the room number of his new room. He scratched his head, then simply added, “-Shinwoo,” to the note.

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The dormitory supervisor, looking anxious as he checked his watch, urged Lee Shinwoo to hurry. Having failed the civil service exam countless times, to the point where he himself had lost track of how many times he had changed his desired profession, the supervisor was always on edge. Lee Shinwoo, deciding it was best not to further antagonize him, quickly slung his bag over his shoulder.

* * *

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The new location was a recently constructed building.

The new building, said to have begun construction with alumni donations, had been utilized as a dormitory a year prior to its completion. Afterward, the new building was still called the new building and the old building remained the old building. The building previously referred to as the new building was demolished and a plaza was created in its place, separating the old and new buildings.

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No one had mentioned the criteria for assigning dormitory residents to the new and old buildings, but everyone knew. The new building, with a capacity of only 100, housed the children of affluent families. The old building, on the other hand, was different. Everything about the new and old buildings was different. Lee Shinwoo, who had lived amongst the impoverished scholarship students in the old building could feel the difference viscerally upon entering the new building.

There’s air conditioning.

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The second semester had begun but the sweltering heat persisted. Despite having just showered, sweat beaded on Lee Shinwoo’s forehead during the transfer from the old building to the new. Recognizing the source of the cool air against his skin, Lee Shinwoo looked around the bright lobby. It was spacious and comfortable. While unfamiliar with the environment, a stark contrast to the old building, he kept pace with the dormitory director.

Last summer, enduring the oppressive heat with only a roommate and a single fan briefly crossed his mind but he dismissed it. He was well aware of the differences between the two buildings. Therefore, he wasn’t particularly surprised.

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The hallway was wider than in the old building and replicas of Monet hung on wallpapered walls, not painted ones. After turning three corners, past a bookshelf filled with titles like “Recommended Books for High School Students,” the dormitory director stopped.

The last room on the second floor. Room 217.

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“Enter.”

Propelled by the dormitory director’s words, Lee Shinwoo stepped inside. The walls of the dormitory room were bare. There wasn’t even a common calendar, let alone a clock.

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The dormitory director, curtly adding that this would be his room from now on, turned and left. The room, with the door closed was silent. Where had everyone gone? The quiet hallway of the new building, devoid of any presence, contrasted sharply with the old building. Lee Shinwoo, accustomed to the constant clamor of the old building found the silence unsettling.

He surveyed the excessively large room for two occupants and took another step inside. The layout differed from the old building. Instead of cramped bunk beds, single beds were positioned against opposite walls. Desks, each with a two-tier bookshelf, were mounted above the beds.

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What caught his eye was the large window. Occupying half of one wall, it offered a view beyond the elevated campus. The unobstructed vista showcased the cityscape, not just the school grounds. The night view would be magnificent.

Would this be better than most hotels?

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Having never been to one, a direct comparison was difficult but comparing it to the apartment he shared with his mother was easy. It was comparable. No, it was superior. This dormitory room was as luxurious as the hotels he had only seen in pictures.

Accustomed to the disparity between the old and new buildings, Lee Shinwoo felt only pure admiration. He stood quietly, observing the two desks placed a distance apart then walked over and set his bag down on the left desk. Unlike the right desk, equipped with a desktop computer and foreign books with unfamiliar titles, the empty left side seemed to be his designated space.

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Expensive items, a speaker and a tablet, caught his attention. Personal belongings were restricted in the old building. The rules in the new building appeared different. The items occupying the right side of the room were all high-end, things Lee Shinwoo could only dream of owning, even if permitted.

From the air conditioning to the overall facilities, the differences between the old and new buildings were as vast as the disparity in rules. It was difficult to discern between personal and communal property. He hesitated to even touch the refrigerator tucked in the corner.

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Even in the new building, they wouldn’t provide a refrigerator in every room, would they?

Then that must be personal property as well.

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Lee Shinwoo decided to keep his focus as narrow as possible. He averted his gaze from the refrigerator he had absentmindedly glanced at earlier, feeling thirsty for some time. There was a water dispenser in the second-floor lounge of the new building. Fortunately, the old lounge also had one.

He sighed involuntarily. He didn’t think he would easily adjust to this luxurious room or the new building. He rubbed his mouth unconsciously. It felt strange and unfamiliar. It was just another dormitory room. Despite reminding himself of this, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being an uninvited guest in someone else’s space.

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He massaged the back of his neck with the hand he had used to rub his mouth. He was more fatigued than usual. Preparations for the October festival performance were underway. The principal dancer was currently absent, participating in an international competition. Lee Shinwoo was filling in. This was possible because he hadn’t been assigned a role of his own. Of course, the trust of his instructor played a significant part.

His instructor cared for him enough to lament his lack of talent, insufficient for even a minor role, let alone a leading one. He praised Lee Shinwoo’s diligence profusely. Because of this, he had been granted the honor of temporarily filling the principal dancer’s position.

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‘Perhaps this could be an opportunity.’

Someone whispered, offering a quiet “Fighting!” Sarcasm laced the cheerful tone. The opportunity alluded to had a prerequisite. The original role holder would have to suffer an injury or misfortune for a dancer like Lee Shinwoo to even consider it a possibility. Lee Shinwoo didn’t react to the encouragement, which casually disregarded this cruel precondition.

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His classmates interpreted the instructor’s attention as favoritism. They viewed his diligence as the pathetic struggle of someone lacking talent and his passion for dance as foolish obsession. And that small word of encouragement transformed Lee Shinwoo, in their eyes, into a cunning opportunist, hoping for the principal dancer’s injury and eager to usurp his place. It was a fiercely competitive and ruthless world. Yet, Lee Shinwoo harbored no regrets about entering it.

He brushed his arms, which had subtly goosebumped before he knew it. Only then had he realized the air conditioner was on in the empty room. He found the remote, turned the air conditioner off, and looked around the dormitory. He felt exhausted despite having done nothing.

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Originally, he had planned to stretch briefly and then lie down on the cramped, second-floor bed in the old building. A sudden anteroom and an unfamiliar environment. He felt abruptly tired, but it seemed impolite to fall asleep first without greeting the room’s owner. After considering, he looked around the large room cautiously and decided to wait for the owner. Meanwhile, to quench his thirst, he headed towards the closed door. Just as he reached out to grab the doorknob, the door burst open and someone entered.

“It gets annoying when people talk. Just leave it.”

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Lee Shinwoo instinctively took a step back, his head tilting slightly backward. Though he wasn’t short himself, the newcomers were excessively tall. One of them casually spoke as he stepped inside, briefly raising an eyebrow. Quickly grasping the situation, he returned to his original expression. The one following behind him did the same. Neither of them paid much attention to Lee Shinwoo.

“I need to shower. You go and rest.”

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It was far too one-sided to be considered a conversation between friends. Startled by the sudden narrowing of distance, Lee Shinwoo instinctively took a couple of steps further back. An unfamiliar scent trailed in with the two of them. To be precise, it came from the owner of the voice, Kang Tae-eon.

When Song Woojae, who had been following Kang Tae-eon, closed the door and left, the brief break in the silence was once again filled by the dormitory’s stillness. It seemed Kang Tae-eon had been outside, as the air of the outdoors clung faintly to him.

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It appeared the new building had no curfew. It was well past 9 p.m. when he had left the old building with the dormitory manager. It must be past the 10 p.m. curfew now. The thought that perhaps it was permissible because it was Kang Tae-eon flitted through his mind, and he quietly convinced himself.

Kang Tae-eon, removing his thin, comfortable rider jacket, frowned suddenly. He glanced around the room anew, strode past Lee Shinwoo, and discarded the rest of his clothing. A click accompanied the sound of the air conditioner powering on.

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Ah.

Lee Shinwoo, who had opened his mouth unconsciously, remained silent. Kang Tae-eon, tossing the remote, headed towards the bathroom attached to the right wall.

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There’s a bathroom too.

Lee Shinwoo had only just noticed.

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The forceful sound of water emanated from within the half-open bathroom door. Kang Tae-eon, having undressed without hesitation, paid no mind to Lee Shinwoo, first meeting or not. Lee Shinwoo was inwardly surprised by the other’s nonchalance in not even properly closing the bathroom door.

In the old building, they would use communal showers, and while it would not have mattered much since they were both men, it was a matter of courtesy. Or perhaps, not even courtesy. Kang Tae-eon had not even acknowledged him with a glance upon entering. This treatment, as if he were not even worthy of acknowledgement, made Lee Shinwoo feel increasingly like an intruder.

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Still, he did not feel any anger towards Kang Tae-eon. He was related to the foundation chairman and was, in effect, the owner of the scholarship foundation supporting Lee Shinwoo. The boundaries of rudeness could be extended for Kang Tae-eon.

However, it was unexpected. On campus, Kang Tae-eon was the epitome of a young master from a good family, raised by excellent parents, with a quality education. Born with a silver spoon, Kang Tae-eon, a person set apart from birth, was renowned for his good nature and excellent qualities, both internal and external. There was a disconnect between this image and the person who had completely ignored him.

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Of course, rumors were just rumors. For Lee Shinwoo, who had never even met Kang Tae-eon in person, the rumors about him were a puzzle he couldn’t solve no matter how much he thought about it. He rubbed the stiff back of his neck, loosening the muscles. He hadn’t been able to do his usual pre-sleep stretches, and his muscles felt tight. His uneventful daily routine had been disrupted by a series of unexpected events.

Could I have come to the wrong room? Or maybe the transfer never actually happened.

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But at the end of this thought, he recalled the dormitory manager’s irritated expression, undisguised displeasure. The manager was not someone who would go through such trouble to prank a stranger. This naturally led him to the conviction that the anteroom was real and he was in the correct room. More than anything, Kang Tae-eon’s lack of surprise at seeing him reinforced this belief.

He remembered the unfamiliar scent. He belatedly realized the smell that had hit him upon the door opening was the smell of blood. A red bloodstain remained on the air conditioner remote Kang Tae-eon had touched. He wondered if Kang Tae-eon was injured, but in the brief, accidental glimpse he had caught of his naked body, there were no signs of wounds. His thoughts reached the point of speculating it was someone else’s blood, but Lee Shinwoo pursued it no further. He did not particularly want to know, and the persistent sound of running water had ceased.

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Emerging from the bathroom, Kang Tae-eon was still completely naked. Embarrassment flickered across Lee Shinwoo’s cheeks as he averted his gaze once more. Kang Tae-eon’s body, he had glimpsed unintentionally was strikingly unfamiliar. He himself had a physique honed by dance and his classmates also boasted refined musculature befitting their impressive forms.

However, Kang Tae-eon was entirely different from dancer Lee Shinwoo and his even more accomplished dancer classmates. His was not the body of a dancer, intricately woven with fine muscles. Smooth without blemish or scar, his body appeared so hard as to be impenetrable. He resembled a martial artist and seemed excessively mature for someone not yet of age.

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He had not appeared bulky or overly muscular while clothed.

“Do you have any long sleeves?”

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Lee Shinwoo, feeling a sudden tension, looked up at the unexpected question. He was rubbing his forearms, which had grown cool from the air conditioner, holding them tightly. Kang Tae-eon, having haphazardly donned his bottoms, sat on a chair, drying his wet hair.

“I hate the heat.”

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Lee Shinwoo understood a beat later the implication that he should adapt.

For a moment, Lee Shinwoo could not find a response. He stared blankly at Kang Tae-eon, then silently nodded. He did not dislike the air conditioner, nor was he particularly sensitive to the cold. In any case, the late summer heat was receding. When it grew colder, the air conditioner would be turned off naturally. Moreover, it was Kang Tae-eon. Asserting his rights as a roommate felt preposterous.

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