Don’t Apologize

“Don’t apologize.”

I picked up the slippers I had changed into.

“You don’t have to.”

I didn’t want to hear an apology.

I didn’t want to see Han Gangun looking at me as he stumbled over his words, saying he was sorry for kissing me, that it had been a mistake, that he didn’t know why he’d done it.

I didn’t want to see the same Han Gangun who had smiled at me awkwardly while saying, “They’re asking us to date,” only to kiss me and then excuse it as a mistake.

The moment Han Gangun apologized, I’d be the only one left humiliated.

That was the conclusion I’d reached.

“Ijae.”

Regret caught hold of my ankle.

I turned around with my shoulders slumped.

Han Gangun was looking at me, a faint frown creasing his brow.

After calling my name, he stood there in silence for a long while.

I was just about to walk away from him again.

“Were you upset?”

The heel I’d been lifting froze in place.

My foot settled back onto the ground.

The blood drained from my head.

Han Gangun asked again.

“Because I didn’t talk to you. Were you upset because of that?”

I looked straight into his dark eyes.

Then I answered.

“No.”

Han Gangun stopped where he was, unable to come any closer.

He stood there with his lips slightly parted, staring at me endlessly.

I turned my back and walked away.

I never looked back until I was outside the school gates.

I never checked to see whether anyone was behind me.

It felt pathetic.

It was after eight when I finally woke up.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and changed out of the school uniform I hadn’t been able to take off yesterday.

The room still reeked of cigarette smoke, even though my father hadn’t come home.

I grabbed an empty plastic bag and gathered all the trash into it.

After tying up the bulging bag, I opened the refrigerator and threw away every side dish that had gone bad.

Rolling up my sleeves, I started washing the dishes.

Once everything was finally cleaned up, I collapsed onto the sofa.

Letting my entire body go limp, I took a deep breath and checked my phone.

There were notifications.

As the lock screen disappeared, several text messages appeared.

[Are you home?]

[Please answer your phone.]

[Where are you?]

[How could you just leave like that?]

Text after text from Han Gangun flooded the screen, along with missed call notifications.

I didn’t know what more he wanted to explain.

What more he wanted to apologize for.

If things between Han Gangun and me simply faded away like this, then maybe that couldn’t be helped.

I’d never had casual feelings for him to begin with.

This was better than having my feelings exposed and being met with eyes full of disgust.

Still…

The thought that things could never go back to how they were with Han Gangun made me a little sad.

I didn’t reply.

I lay stretched out on the sofa, one hand covering my forehead, and closed my eyes.

Then—

I snapped them open.

The doorbell rang through the apartment.

Still blinking away sleep, I checked the intercom.

“He came all the way here…”

A single figure in a school uniform stood on the blue-tinted monitor.

I immediately sprang to my feet.

Rubbing my face with both hands, I shoved the shoes scattered by the entrance aside with my foot and quietly opened the door.

“…”

“…Shin Jooho.
You…”

Instead of Han Gangun, whom I’d expected—no, whom I’d convinced myself would be standing there—it was Shin Jooho.

The shock rooted me to the spot.

Leaning on one leg, Shin Jooho held out a paper shopping bag.

He extended it toward me.

I stared blankly at it.

“My mom told me to bring this.”

“…”

“I didn’t want to do this crap either.”

His face was twisted with obvious irritation.

I looked inside the bag.

It was full of side dishes.

I remembered throwing away all the spoiled dishes from my refrigerator just moments ago.

I looked back up at Shin Jooho’s sour expression.

My gaze drifted between his face and the bag before I finally spoke.

“I don’t need it.”

“What?”

“Take it back.”

The corners of Shin Jooho’s lips curled upward without changing the rotten look on his face.

It was a sneer.

“You kidding me?”

“I’m not. Take it back.”

“This is the last time anyway.”

His sharp voice turned openly mocking.

“We don’t even eat lunch together anymore. Why the hell should I keep bringing you this stuff? Because of you and your dad?”

It felt humiliating.

The anger I’d been holding back burst out.

“When did I ever ask you to?”

“What?”

“I never asked for any of this. I never told you to bring me anything.

You’re the one who kept forcing it on me.”

“Hey, f*ck.”

The paper bag slipped from Shin Jooho’s hand.

The food containers tumbled out onto the floor.

Our eyes locked at close range.

Shin Jooho glared at me, his eyes blazing.

His gaze was murderous.

“So you’ve been hanging around as Han Gangun’s little lapdog long enough to start talking back now?”

“…What?”

“You did it today too.

Who was it that made me give up my seat while I was eating lunch just fine?”

I thought back to lunch.

To Han Gangun, who hadn’t spoken a single word to me all day, yet still came over and took Shin Jooho’s seat beside me.

“So why the hell are you dumping your inferiority complex on me?”

“…”

“I brought you side dishes. I even ate lunch with you.

So why the f*ck are you taking it out on me?”

Shin Jooho looked genuinely furious.

I’d never seen this side of him before.

It was as though everything he’d been bottling up inside had finally burst open.

And I was the one it all spilled onto.

His voice echoed throughout the apartment hallway.

Standing there, Shin Jooho, who was about the same height as me, looked like some enormous giant.

His booming voice felt as though it were crushing my chest.

Then he kicked one of the food containers his mother had packed.

“I’ve been sick of doing this for ages.”

“Then don’t.”

My eyes stayed fixed on the containers rolling across the floor as I spoke.

When I looked up, Shin Jooho was staring directly at me.

“Then don’t, damn it.”

“…”

“I never asked Han Gangun to bully you.”

“Hey.”

“You think I’m jealous of you?”

A short laugh escaped me.

“You’re the one who should stop talking bullshit.”

The words spilled from my mouth before I even knew what I was saying.

My fists trembled violently.

Shin Jooho wasn’t the only one whose bottled-up emotions had finally burst.

Everything I’d been suppressing came pouring out without restraint.

It was true.

Ever since I’d started spending time with Han Gangun, I’d begun noticing emotions inside myself that I’d always buried before.

If people wanted to call me Han Gangun’s lapdog, I couldn’t exactly argue with them.

From everyone else’s perspective, that’s probably what it looked like.

Shin Jooho must have thought the same.

I wasn’t talking back because I was borrowing Han Gangun’s influence.

This was years of resentment I’d swallowed in silence.

I even regretted all the days I’d shamelessly accepted side dishes from people like him and his family.

I regretted not refusing whenever he made a show of saying he’d eat lunch with me.

I’d known what kind of person he really was all along.

The anger rising to my throat churned violently.

“I don’t need any of this.”

“…”

“So don’t ever bring it here again.”

The moment I tried to close the door, someone grabbed my wrist hard.

Shin Jooho yanked me toward him.

“Hey!”

“What the f*ck?”

The curse rang sharply through the hallway.

Shin Jooho had just raised a hand toward my collar when he suddenly froze.

At the same time, both of us looked up.

Half a flight of stairs below us—

Han Gangun was standing there.

“What are you doing?”

Han Gangun started walking toward us.

“I asked what the hell’s going on.”

He was still wearing the same summer school uniform I’d seen earlier that day.

With his long legs, he took the stairs in just a few strides.

Shin Jooho stepped back.

I could feel the contempt in his eyes.

He looked at me as though he wanted to kill me.

Han Gangun glanced between the two of us before breaking into a crooked grin.

Casually jerking a thumb behind him, he said,

“I was just passing by, and somebody was yelling loud enough to bring the whole building down.”

“…”

“So I came over wondering which rude bastard was making all that noise.”

“And here you two are.”

“Gangun.”

I called his name.

“What is all this?”

I grabbed Han Gangun’s arm.

He gently removed my hand.

Tilting his chin, he looked down at the food containers scattered across the floor.

Shin Jooho had his head lowered.

Without saying a word, his clenched fists shook.

Han Gangun folded his arms.

He leaned forward slightly until he was at eye level with Shin Jooho.

Naturally, Shin Jooho refused to meet his gaze.

“Oh.”

“You’re the guy who gave us your seat earlier.”

“…”

“Right?”

He didn’t even call him by name.

But I knew instinctively.

I was certain Han Gangun knew Shin Jooho’s full name perfectly well.

I closed my eyes for a long moment before opening them again.

If I just stood there waiting, this was only going to get worse.

I looked at Shin Jooho.

“Go.”

Shin Jooho’s sneakers shifted backward.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Han Gangun stopped Shin Jooho just as I was trying to send him away.

I wasn’t the only one caught off guard.

“Apologize.”

“…”

“I said apologize.”

Han Gangun grabbed Shin Jooho by the shoulder and turned him around.

Shin Jooho was now facing me.

“Apologize for calling him a lapdog.”

A thought suddenly crossed my mind.

Maybe Han Gangun had been watching us the entire time, even before Shin Jooho threw down the food containers after coming to my apartment.

Han Gangun tilted his head slightly as he looked at Shin Jooho’s face.