EOFD 22

 Chapter 22

The End of First Love

The mountain path grew steeper and rougher. Finding it strange, Jungha asked a question, but no reply came back. Her brow rose crookedly.

So this is how he’s going to be.

Deliberately quickening her pace, Jungha lightly overtook Yeonwoo and continued forward, glancing back at him from time to time.

About twenty minutes later, Yeonwoo was gasping for air as he climbed the steep incline. By now, the research facility should have come into view, but it hadn’t. Something was wrong.

Ahead of them, the path narrowed into a dangerously steep slope. One wrong step could mean a fall. There was a rope beside it to help with the climb, but it didn’t look very reliable.

“…Ha.”

Could Seo Yeonwoo’s stamina even handle this?

While Jungha hesitated, Yeonwoo clenched his teeth and gave a slight nod, his pride pushing him to insist she go first.

“…”

“…”

Even though Yeonwoo already looked unsteady, Jungha obediently grabbed the rope and started climbing. She figured it was better if she encountered any problems first.

“Haa… ha.”

Halfway up the cliff-like path, Yeonwoo suddenly felt the board under his foot creak.

“Huh?”

By the time Jungha realized something was wrong, Yeonwoo’s body was already tumbling down.

“Seo Yeonwoo!”

Her voice grew faint as he fell. His body scraped harshly against rocks and dirt as he rolled, pain tearing through him. His ankle twisted sharply, sending electric shocks of pain. He hadn’t expected the ground behind him to be a cliff.

It was a relief he hadn’t hit his head, but the pain and humiliation struck him all at once.

“…Ugh.”

Suddenly, he remembered the day he had been beaten up by Park Jungwoon. The pain was exactly the same. That day too, it had been because of Woo Jungha. Because he had gotten close to her, he had drawn unwanted attention and ended up being kicked out of his boarding room.

Now, once again, it was chasing after Jungha’s back that had led to this. Though the fall wasn’t her fault, his resentment instinctively shifted toward her.

Because he had wished—just once—that Jungha would look back at him.

“You okay?”

“Hhh—hick…”

Jungha quickly slid down the rope. Seeing her, Yeonwoo wiped his tears. His foot throbbed unbearably, but he forced himself upright.

Though one foot couldn’t even touch the ground, Yeonwoo stubbornly tried to move. Watching this, Jungha’s expression hardened, and she rushed toward him.

“What the hell are you doing? Can’t you see your ankle’s hurt?”

“Hh… What’s it to you?”

“Hey.”

His lips were clamped shut in stubbornness, his eyes clouded with defiance, and faint tear streaks still marked his face. When Yeonwoo tried to limp down the mountain alone, Jungha clicked her tongue sharply and grabbed him from behind.

“…Let go!”

Yeonwoo shook her off and staggered forward. Jungha’s face twisted grimly at the sight.

Even with his ankle badly swollen, he kept dragging himself along. Watching him push his body despite the obvious pain made anger boil up inside her.

“Seo Yeonwoo.”

She grabbed his frail wrist and pulled, making his body sway. He steadied himself by clutching a tree and shouted sharply,

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“You should be asking yourself that.”

Yeonwoo turned his face away, sulking, not wanting to look at her. In that moment, Jungha swung him onto her back in one motion. Shocked by the sudden lift, Yeonwoo flailed, veins bulging in his neck.

“Put me down!”

But Jungha stayed silent, carrying him without pause. Yeonwoo pounded on her back with his fists.

“I said put me down!”

The truth was, even if she did, he couldn’t descend the mountain alone in this state. He knew it, but his pride drowned out reason.

“Stay still.”

“You put me down and go on your way. I’m not going to be carried by you.”

His words came out sharp like thorns, but at the end his voice cracked with sorrow, and he clamped his mouth shut. Feeling the warmth and pulse from her back, Jungha gripped his legs firmly and muttered,

“I won’t let you go.”

“….”

“I don’t plan on letting you go at all, so what now?”

At that, Yeonwoo’s words dried up. His thrashing body slowly grew still. Pressed against her broad back, he felt the rise and fall of her breath. Then a tear slipped from his eyes and fell onto her shoulder.

“Who do you think you are?”

“….”

“Who are you to ignore me…?”

Yeonwoo’s voice broke with sobs, his lips trembling. His eyes must have been burning red, though he kept his tears as silent as always.

Jungha knew this about him. She had seen it the first time the bullies came—how even while sobbing, he tried to stifle the sound, gasping as if he might stop breathing.

“…I’m sorry.”

“…Hh.”

“I won’t do it again.”

On her back, Yeonwoo leaned against her shoulder. His tears traced down his cheeks and dropped to the ground. She didn’t tell him not to cry, but instead tightened her hold around his legs, carrying him closer. Warmth bloomed in the closeness.

“….”

The sound of his sobs gradually faded, until they were drowned out by the chirping of birds darting past the trees. Pressing his face against her back, Yeonwoo slipped his arms around her neck.

I’m only letting this slide because I’m kind.

His muttered words brushed her ear. Jungha chuckled softly and took another step. Together, they slowly began descending.

After some time, the two stopped to rest on a rock. Sitting Yeonwoo down, Jungha carefully inspected his swollen ankle, clicking her tongue.

This injury would last a while. Yeonwoo stared at Jungha, who was kneeling in front of him.

“You’re nothing like your mother.”

He knew it was a poor attempt at comfort, but it was the only thing he could manage to say.

Ahem. Yeonwoo coughed awkwardly, remembering his earlier stubborn pride. Seeing his round head bow, Jungha smirked and sat beside him.

To Jungha, her mother was like a pill swallowed without water. It scraped all the way down her throat, and even when it went down, its bitterness rose up again.

A pill she couldn’t throw away, but couldn’t refuse to take either.

“…I wish you hadn’t seen that.”

“What’s the big deal? I let you see me getting beaten up.”

Jungha’s ears burned hot. She grumbled back, but Yeonwoo understood her feelings.

“Was it when you were in elementary school? The first time she even brought a knife?”

“…Yeah.”

“That must’ve been terrifying.”

“Well… a little.”

“So even the mighty Woo Jungha gets scared. I see your mother in a whole new light now.”

At Yeonwoo’s nonchalant words, Jungha let out a laugh. To him, his mother had always been a sharp, threatening figure. But hearing Yeonwoo say it like that, she suddenly felt… less daunting.

The first time her mother had raised a knife, Jungha’s body had only just begun to grow. Of course she had been terrified. The memory was so traumatic she often woke in the middle of the night trembling, sometimes convulsing.

Yeonwoo, watching her expression darken with memory, searched for words to keep her talking.

“Guess I’m lucky. At least I only ever tried to kill myself.”

“Don’t compare yourself to her.”

Jungha’s quiet reply carried weight. There had been times she had unconsciously equated her suicidal mother with Yeonwoo. At first, perhaps, that was how she had seen it.

“But you’re living, aren’t you.”