WW | Chapter 26

“Why should I?”

“I’ll give you something you want, too.”

“You think you know what I want?”

Yoonjo’s voice had grown dry, as if he were tired of this looped conversation. She knew she had to say something, but no words came to mind. There wasn’t much she could offer anyone, especially not someone like Kang Yoonjo, the rich, lone-wolf type who didn’t seem to care about anyone or anything. If she wanted to get his attention, she needed something captivating. But there was no way she could think of anything like that when they barely knew each other.

Seeing Yoonjo’s eyes open with a look of indifference made Yul’s heart race even more.

“So? As long as it’s reasonable.”

Without even listening to her entire sentence, Yoonjo let out a scoff. His lips twisted into a sarcastic smile, as if looking at a fool.

“Didn’t I tell you earlier? I’m not exactly a nice guy.”

“…….”

“And a guy who isn’t nice probably wouldn’t want something reasonable, would he?”

Yul had been desperate to offer an answer, but he had pushed her away with a sneer. The thought of helping him with his studies, showing him her notes, or even running small errands for him wasn’t just naïve; it was stupid. She was too flustered to think straight, and none of those things would mean anything to someone who didn’t even care about school life.

“If you’re not an idiot, you’ll understand what I mean. But if you still want it, I’ll consider it.”

Yoonjo’s lazy smile wasn’t like anything she’d seen from him before. Behind his usual cold indifference, there was an unpleasant hint of something she despised. The low desires he had hidden finally surfaced, making her realize he wasn’t so different from the people she hated. If she had known this earlier, she wouldn’t have wasted her time or energy.

“Bastard.”

She spat the insult at him and turned away. She’d taken her last shot, and it had ended in utter failure. With no hope left, she felt unexpectedly calm. All that was left was to be swept along by whatever came next.

Yoonjo usually avoided the rush of students spilling out of school by either leaving a bit earlier or waiting until later. It made for a quieter bus stop, and he had a better chance of getting a seat.

Sometimes, at that hour, he’d catch sight of her. Seomun Yul. A girl with a peculiar name.

It hadn’t been a deliberate noticing; rather, she had gradually come into view as their unusual meetings piled up. She’d appear with her hands tightly clutching her bag straps, ready to fight the world, and other times, he’d catch her gazing absentmindedly across the street at the autumn colors as if lost in thought.

Today, she looked different. Standing at the bus stop in a daze, her eyes seemed devoid of any color. Even when her gaze brushed past him, seated on the bus, it drifted indifferently elsewhere. She clearly needed to get on this bus but showed no sign of doing so. Perhaps she was distracted or avoiding him.

Her lifeless face looked brittle, like a leaf scattered on the side of the road. He thought she’d be full of resentment toward him, but her empty eyes felt oddly unsettling. They reminded him of someone else with a similar look.

“Can I stay by your side?”

What a foolish girl.

What could she possibly know about me to make such a stupid request?

Whatever situation Seomun Yul was in, it wasn’t his business. Her approach had been a little different from the others, which might have made him notice her slightly more, but in the end, she wasn’t any different.

The bus pulled away, leaving Yul behind, and Yoonjo shifted his gaze indifferently.

After transferring buses, he crossed the Han River, heading toward Hannam-dong. Seated by the window, he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Normally, he’d take a nap, but tonight, it was harder to sleep. A pair of faded eyes kept resurfacing in his mind. He wasn’t sure if those eyes belonged to the girl he had left behind at the stop or someone who was now long gone. Although they came from different places and times, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they looked alike.

Eventually, he drifted into a light sleep.

“Yoonjo, wake up. We’re here.”

A soft voice roused him, and gentle fingers brushed his hair. Half-asleep, he leaned against Yeonsu’s shoulder, frowning slightly as he lifted his head. He’d stayed up late playing games after studying with a tutor until ten the night before, then sneaked in gaming until three in the morning. Today, they were visiting the orphanage where his mother had grown up, something he’d forgotten about.

Looking out the window, he saw a rural landscape instead of the city.

“I’m tired.”

Squinting at the sunlight, he leaned back against Yeonsu’s shoulder. Smiling, she raised her hand, shielding his face with her palm. Her small hand cast a shadow across his nose.

“My son must be growing taller if he’s this sleepy. If you grow any taller, my neck’s going to hurt.”

She would always joke about her neck hurting whenever she looked at him, as he was already over 185 cm in his third year of middle school. And he’d always pick her up in response.

“Then it won’t hurt if I do this, right?”

When he’d ask her that, Yeonsu would laugh, hitting his shoulder playfully like a young girl. He loved those moments, moments when his mother stayed beside him, laughing and sharing. He no longer worried about her leaving; since she had returned from France, she had kept her promise to stay by his side.

Just as he felt himself relax, a loud crash jolted him. His entire body was flung around, hitting and spinning, his mind growing faint.

By the time he realized they’d been in an accident, the car had already rolled multiple times and landed by the side of the road.

“Mom!”

Regaining consciousness, Yoonjo called out for her. Yeonsu’s hands, which had been holding him tightly, slackened as blood dripped down her forehead.

“Mom! Stay with me. Mom!”

He shouted with all his strength, and after dozens of calls, her closed eyes flickered open. Her frail eyes, barely able to focus, tried to form words, but only strained, gasping breaths escaped her.

The driver, seated in the front, appeared unconscious and unresponsive.

“Help us! Is anyone there? Please help!”

Yoonjo screamed out through the shattered window. He wanted to move, but only his fingers twitched—his arms refused to cooperate. His own injuries didn’t matter as much as his mother, who was fading in his arms.

Thankfully, soon enough, there was movement outside. The sound of cars stopping, voices, and footsteps reached him. But his hope vanished when he saw several black shoes approach. This wasn’t an accident; he realized that he and his mother were in grave danger.

“Check on them.”

Someone ordered, and a man knelt to look inside. Startled by the sight of Yoonjo and Yeonsu, he quickly stood back up.

“They’re both alive.”

Moments after the report, the car was flipped over again. Yoonjo and Yeonsu were dragged out of the car and dumped onto the ground. Only then did he fully grasp the situation: an empty country road, a massive dump truck stopped on one side, two sedans, and men standing around.

“Take care of it.”

The man who seemed to be the leader gave an order, and someone pulled out a knife. With a click, the blade extended, and the man began walking toward Yoonjo and his mother.

“Blame your father.”

Just as the man raised the knife toward Yoonjo, Yeonsu, using sheer willpower, threw herself over her son. The blade pierced her back, and with a stifled gasp, she collapsed, eyes wide open. When the man withdrew the knife, she fell lifeless to the ground.

It had all happened in seconds, each scene embedded in Yoonjo’s mind like snapshots. The man picked up the bloodstained knife and walked toward Yoonjo.

Fear vanished, replaced by an uncontrollable rage that surged through his body. Seeing his fallen mother, he lost all control over his emotions. His previously immobile arm moved on its own, delivering a punch straight to the man’s face. With a sickening crack, the man dropped his knife and clutched his face. Yoonjo grabbed the fallen knife and drove it downward.

He woke with a start, gasping for breath. He hadn’t had a nightmare like that in years, not since the year his mother died. He didn’t understand why it was happening now. His fists trembled beyond his control as he clenched them tightly.

Yoonjo got off the bus and climbed the gentle uphill path for a while. The day was cool, but he was sweating from the walk. Despite his family’s resources, he rarely used the car his father provided, except when necessary. Aside from sleeping, he preferred mindless walking, taking buses, and waiting—these routines made him feel at ease.