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    Jehyuk usually took Sihoo’s side when it came to anything involving him, and this time, there was no real side to take—after all, they’d gotten caught talking about someone who wasn’t even there.

    Watching Ijun’s retreating figure with a strange feeling, Jehyuk suddenly heard Sihoo speak.

    “Disappointed?”

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    “Huh?”

    “You seemed bothered that he left first.”

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    Sihoo lowered his eyelashes, voice brushing against Jehyuk’s ears in a soft whisper.

    “Aren’t you happy to see me?” The teasing tone, laced with a hint of playful disappointment, tickled his senses.

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    Jehyuk unconsciously tensed.

    Lately—since yesterday, actually—Sihoo had been acting a little differently.

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    Like Ijun had pointed out, the two of them had never really acted openly close before.

    So Sihoo being like this now felt… refreshingly unfamiliar.

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    Not that he minded. If anything, he liked it.

    …A lot

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    The two had always called each other close friends, but they’d never really acted like it.

    It was natural in a way—Jehyuk wasn’t that kind of person, and neither was Sihoo. But right now, Sihoo looked as if he was deliberately making it known that he was Jehyuk’s closest confidant.

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    Jehyuk honestly didn’t mind. If anything, he welcomed it.

    “It’s not like that. Normally, after we shower, we head to campus together, but today, he left early… so I just wanted to check if he was okay.”

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    “You shower together?”

    Sihoo tilted his head slightly as he asked. His gaze, looking down at Jehyuk with his arms crossed, was oddly unreadable.

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    A strange dryness crawled up Jehyuk’s throat, so he licked his lips.

    “It’s normal for athletes, isn’t it?”

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    Saying it out loud made it sound weird. Like how this morning, he’d suddenly become aware of something he’d never paid attention to before.

    Sihoo remained silent for a moment. He was smiling, but he looked… unsettled.

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    People often said Sihoo was hard to read, but Jehyuk could pick up on the subtle shifts in his mood. Maybe because he’d spent his whole life gauging other people’s reactions.

    “I see.”

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    Sihoo looked like he had more to say, but after a few seconds, he just let it go with a smile.

    It nagged at Jehyuk.

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    Ignoring it felt wrong, so after some hesitation, he spoke again.

    “Kim Ijun and I aren’t that close. I know it sounds kind of childish to say it, but… you seemed like you cared, so I just wanted to let you know.”

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    Sihoo raised an eyebrow. He looked… surprised. Like he hadn’t expected that.

    “Yesterday, you said it felt like we’d grown distant. But I don’t think that’s true. You’re already busy, so don’t overdo it just for my sake. I mean… what I’m trying to say is, don’t worry about us.”

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    Sihoo listened to him quietly, then suddenly let out a soft laugh.

    “You know, Jehyuk, I only do what I want. I’m doing this because I like it.”

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    Sihoo unfolded his arms and held out a hand.

    “And I like you.”

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    The hand extended toward him was pale.

    Jehyuk blinked.

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    For some reason, he just stared at it for a while, the words and the hand equally striking.

    When he didn’t move, Sihoo laughed again, this time a little more brightly.

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    “Come on, hold my hand, Hyuk-ah.”

    “…Hand?”

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    Realization hit Jehyuk a beat too late, and a slow warmth crept up the back of his neck.

    They were standing right outside the gym—out in the open where anyone could see them. And he was supposed to hold hands with his friend?

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    “We said we’d practice, remember? Since yesterday.”

    Jehyuk didn’t even have to ask why.

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    The moment he saw Sihoo’s back turn slightly away, it clicked.

    He’d assumed Sihoo wouldn’t remember last night, but… apparently, he did.

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    “Do we… have to hold hands?”

    Now that the so-called practice had taken shape, his stomach churned uncomfortably.

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    Touching hands seemed way too intimate.

    “If we were dating, we’d want to hold hands, right?”

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    Sihoo took a step closer.

    His voice, like a spring breeze, brushed softly against Jehyuk’s ears—light, warm, and stirring something deep inside him.

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    “But I just took a shower. My hand’s still wet.”

    Still, wasn’t holding hands a bit much for friends?

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    Jehyuk hesitated, unable to completely shake off his last bit of reluctance.

    And then, in that gentle, coaxing tone, Sihoo murmured—

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    “When you like someone, stuff like that doesn’t matter.”

    Jehyuk’s chest tingled.

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    That strange sensation from before scratched at the inside of his ribs, so itchy it made him want to press a hand against his chest just to ease it.

    The word like swirled inside him, echoing over and over.

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    Was it because he wasn’t used to hearing it from someone else?

    But then again…

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    It wasn’t like he’d never been liked before.

    He’d dated people.

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    Hong Rina, for one. And a few other ex-girlfriends who had come and gone.

    But he’d never felt like this with them.

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    Lost in confusion, Jehyuk clung to the most logical explanation he could think of—this was just about validation.

    It was because he was confirming his importance to Sihoo.

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    That’s why it felt so… significant.

    Hearing Sihoo say I like you carried a lot of weight.

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    Before university, Sihoo had been the only person in Jehyuk’s life.

    All throughout school, Jehyuk had dragged along the rumors that Choi Jinyoung had started.

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    Even though the words weren’t visible, they stuck to him like a stain—whispered behind his back, thrown in his face.

    That he was an orphan abandoned by his parents.

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    That he still wet the bed at his age.

    Every single one of them is cruel, humiliating, and suffocating.

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    You can’t judge something by its surface.

    Just like you have to cut something open and see inside to know what it really is.

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    There were people who had tried to approach Jehyuk, at first.

    But the moment they heard the rumors, every single one of them walked away.

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    No one ever stopped to open him up and find the truth.

    Except for Sihoo.

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    By the time Jehyuk’s name was plastered with countless stories throughout the school, Sihoo had already known.

    And he was the only one who approached him anyway.

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    Right when Jehyuk had been sinking into quiet decay, buried under never-ending ridicule and malice.

    At seventeen, he had already given up on explaining himself.

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    At first, he had tried to clarify the truth. Countless times.But it never worked. Eventually, he’d given up and lashed out instead.

    The first time he ever threw a punch was when some faceless classmate mocked his dead parents. Four guys had jumped him after that. And he fought them all, until his fists went numb.

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    The result was pretty bad.

    Instead of his parents, it was his aunt who was called in, and she bowed in apology on his behalf. That night, after hearing the news late, his uncle called Ji Jehyuk aside and beat him. A thick hand struck his cheek. His skull throbbed, and an unpleasant numbness filled his mouth. He remained silent as he was slapped back and forth, his nose bleeding from a misplaced hit and trickling down to wet his lips before the punishment finally ended. Along with it came a threat—if he caused trouble one more time, soccer or not, he’d be kicked out.

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    Resignation wasn’t a choice for Jehyuk. It was forced upon him.

    The added rumor that he had fought against four people alone meant that he didn’t face direct conflict afterward. Instead, he was punished through isolation. No one approached him. For a long time, he lived buried behind others, blending into their background.

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    Before meeting Yoon Sihoo, that was the kind of person Ji Jehyuk was. So maybe the way he felt now was completely reasonable. Sihoo’s attention had the power to move him.

    In the end, Jehyuk’s fingers twitched. Since Sihoo told him to do it, he would, but his body didn’t follow as easily.

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    “Is it okay if people see?”

    Another unnecessary question slipped out. He knew he was saying too much for something as simple as holding hands.

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    “Of course.”

    Sihoo’s voice was so carefree, almost amused, that Jehyuk found himself at a loss.

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    “It’s not likely, but… what if people misunderstand and think we’re dating? You’d get unnecessary rumors about you.”

    As he kept rambling, Sihoo wordlessly squinted his eyes, as if asking, So?

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    “Do you not want to hold hands with me?”

    “No.”

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    Then what’s the problem? Sihoo wiggled his pale fingers playfully. Jehyuk took a deep breath. Yeah, it doesn’t mean anything. Friends can hold hands too. Besides, this is just practice. A way to prepare for the future, so he wouldn’t get dumped over something stupid.

    Hesitating, Jehyuk finally mustered the courage to place his palm over Sihoo’s. It wasn’t a delicate movement. His grip was stiff, hesitant. Sihoo chuckled softly, but Jehyuk didn’t hear it—he was too preoccupied with how foreign Sihoo’s touch felt.

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    Unlike Jehyuk, Sihoo was soft. Compared to his own hands, calloused from years of sports, Sihoo’s were so smooth that Jehyuk felt like he might dirty them just by touching.

    “Actually, this isn’t how people usually do it.”

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    At that moment, Sihoo added another remark. As soon as Jehyuk heard it, he flinched and tried to pull away. But Sihoo’s grip tightened. Surprisingly, his hold was much stronger than expected.

    “When people date, they naturally start wanting to touch each other.”

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    Ah… so that’s what he meant.

    Awkwardly, Jehyuk let his hand stay where it was. But the tension didn’t leave his body.

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    “Yeah… I guess so.”

    Even though his mind was a mess, he still tried to respond to Sihoo’s words. Thinking back to why he was dumped, it made sense—his lack of physical affection had been part of the reason.

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    “But since you’re so scared of this kind of thing….”

    Sihoo loosened his grip slightly, only to shift their hands into a different position. This time, rather than just covering the top of Jehyuk’s hand, he intertwined their fingers.

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    “I gave you a heads-up.”

    Jehyuk lowered his gaze to stare at their now interwoven hands. He had never held hands like this before. Cautious, yet without hesitation, Sihoo’s fingers gently intertwined with his. It looked… strangely pretty. Unlike Jehyuk’s slightly tanned skin, Sihoo’s hands were pale, making it feel like he was wrapped in something soft.

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    “I’m not scared.”

    Heat rushed to his head.

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    “Then I’ll say you’re embarrassed.”

    “I’m not. I just….”

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    His stomach churned, the heat mixing with an unsteady feeling. The ground beneath him seemed to tilt, but at the same time, the closer he was to Sihoo, the tenser he became.

    Shouldn’t he want to let go by now? Isn’t this weird? I’m not soft like him, I’m just… not much at all.

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    Sihoo, I’m scared of getting close.

    Because the moment we do, you’ll figure me out and let go.

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    “…I’m just not used to it.”

    Jehyuk swallowed his real thoughts and closed his mouth. Suddenly spilling feelings he had never told anyone before would be ridiculous. Instead, he shut his lips tight and started walking. The slope where Kim Ijun had disappeared earlier stretched ahead. Since their hands were still joined, Sihoo naturally followed behind him.

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    They walked in silence for a few minutes. The surroundings were quiet. Other than morning liberal arts classes, matches, or festivals, the area around the gym was usually like this—empty. Most people took the shuttle bus from the other side, making this path one only a few knew.

    As they walked slowly, a cool breeze swept past them. The cherry blossoms, which had been fluttering yesterday, continued to scatter like snow today. Since they had just started blooming, they would likely paint the school in pink for another month.

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