Chapter 16
The fluorescent lights above the convenience store buzzed, throwing a thin, tired glow over the street corner.
They stopped just outside, both a little out of breath. Gyu In bent forward slightly, rubbing the back of his head with a rueful grimace.
"Note to self. Next time I throw myself in front of danger, I should aim for the bad guys, not the wall."
Eun Wol exhaled, the sound half a laugh, half a sigh. "You ran into it like it was your life's mission."
"I was trying to be heroic."
"You looked more like a malfunctioning robot."
Gyu In chuckled, then winced and pressed a hand to his temple. "Ow. You wound me."
Eun Wol turned toward the store's sliding door. "I'll get us something to drink."
"I can go—" Gyu In started, but Eun Wol lifted a hand without even looking back.
"You just knocked yourself. Sit."
He went inside. The automatic door gave a soft, weary ding as it slid shut behind him.
When he came back, he had two bottles of water, a can of iced tea, and a boiled egg balanced on top of the drinks.
Gyu In blinked at the sight. "You do know we're not camping, right?"
Eun Wol crouched beside him, cracked the egg, and began peeling it with precise, steady fingers. Without a word of warning, he pressed the egg gently against the red bump forming on Gyu In's forehead.
Gyu In flinched. "The hell—?"
"I didn't buy it for fun."
"You planning to cook my brain?"
Eun Wol didn't smile, but some of the hardness in his face eased.
"I couldn't stop you from doing stupid things," he muttered. "So let me at least do something."
For a moment, Gyu In only looked at him, the usual teasing held back. Then his gaze shifted to the scrape across Eun Wol's palm, a thin line of dried blood crusted along the edge.
"Give me your hand."
"What? No."
"You let me clean it, or I'm pressing this egg on your face."
Eun Wol narrowed his eyes but held his hand out. Gyu In uncapped a bottle, poured the water carefully over the wound, and used the inside of his sleeve to dab it dry with surprising gentleness.
"You're not very good at staying out of trouble," he said quietly.
Eun Wol glanced at him. "Neither are you."
"Yeah, but I look better while doing it."
This time Eun Wol didn't look away.
"…Idiot."
"Let me get a plaster. We wouldn't want it to get infected."
He started to push himself up, but Eun Wol caught his sleeve and shook his head.
"I've got it," he said, flipping open his bag and fishing out a small plaster. "Soo Young put it in earlier."
Gyu In raised a brow. "Ah, Soo Young… he's a good kid."
"Stop talking like an old man. How old are you, anyway?"
"Me?" Gyu In snatched the plaster from him, tore it open, and leaned in to press it over the scrape on Eun Wol's palm. "I'm twenty-seven."
Eun Wol blinked. "We're the same age?"
Gyu In smiled. "I didn't expect that."
The night stretched on quietly.
They sat on the curb outside the store, nursing their bruises and half-finished drinks. The buzz of the flickering sign above hummed like a low-pitched lullaby.
The silence was not awkward. It was the kind that settled in after too much noise, something both of them seemed to need. But it didn't mean their heads were quiet.
Eun Wol traced the curve of his fingers with his thumb. The plaster sat neatly across his palm. Gyu In's handiwork.
How do I apologise? Just like that? It feels weird.
He defended me. Get injuried. I yelled at him like he was nothing. And now what ... thank you? Sorry? You want ramen?
Beside him, Gyu In tilted his head back as if he could see stars beyond the city haze, eyes half-closed.
Is it stupid to ask if he's okay? Obviously he's not. But if I don't say anything, do we just move on? Pretend nothing happened? Pretend nothing still hurts?
Their drinks stayed untouched between them.
At last, Gyu In broke the quiet, his voice unexpectedly solemn.
"…Do you think I lost brain cells when I hit that wall?"
He turned to Eun Wol, expression grave. "Because I'm pretty sure I forgot my blood type just now."
Eun Wol blinked.
Then he let out a short snort. "You forgot it before the wall."
Gyu In gasped in mock offence. "Excuse you. I'll have you know I'm type handsome."
The corner of Eun Wol's mouth twitched. The air between them shifted, the tight pull of tension finally loosening.
"I'm sorry."
Gyu In's eyes widened. His head snapped toward Eun Wol, who still stared stubbornly ahead at the street.
"Care to repeat that one more time?" he asked, trying and failing to hold back the chuckle rising in his chest. Eun Wol looked far too solemn for someone apologising outside a convenience store.
Eun Wol turned his head at last, meeting his eyes.
"I said I'm sorry. All those things I said… the way I acted. It was awful. I was awful."
Gyu In's teasing smile faltered. His gaze wavered, unsure whether to settle on Eun Wol's face or on the flickering sign above them. A small, unfamiliar warmth crawled up the back of his neck.
"I… uh… think I might have hit my head a bit too hard," he said at last, rubbing the sore spot with a sheepish grin. "I don't remember any of that. So you don't have to feel bad."
"No," Eun Wol said quietly but firmly. "I was wrong. I should—"
"Then go hiking with me," Gyu In interrupted, brightening suddenly. "Let's go hiking. We'll climb something absurdly tall, curse each other halfway up, and leave that day behind at the bottom."
Eun Wol blinked, caught off guard. "Hiking?"
Gyu In grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. "Yeah. Fresh air, terrible snacks, and me desperately trying not to get lost."
A soft laugh slipped out of Eun Wol before he could stop it. "Alright… but only if you promise not to run into any more walls."
Gyu In raised a hand in a sloppy salute.
*
The sky wasn't even awake yet.
A dull indigo stretched across the city, sleepy stars lingering as if they had forgotten to leave.
Eun Wol stood at the park entrance with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his long black padded coat. The hoodie underneath was zipped up to his chin, the edge of the fabric brushing his jaw as he breathed out faint clouds into the cold morning air.
He hadn't bothered much with his clothes—old sneakers, worn joggers, a sling bag slung across one shoulder but the thick coat made him feel a little less foolish for standing there at four in the morning.
A car soon rolled to a stop at the curb. He recognised it instantly. Without hesitation, he opened the door and climbed in.
Eun Wol raised a brow as he took in the driver.
Gyu In looked as if he had stepped out of a hiking-gear commercial. A navy windbreaker zipped up to his chin. Black compression leggings under his shorts. And, most noticeably, his hair was still slightly damp.
"Did you… shower?" Eun Wol asked flatly.
Gyu In grinned, both hands on the wheel as he made a turn. "Wouldn't want to offend nature."
"I have tea, if you're thirsty."
Eun Wol spotted the handmade brew bottle and reached for it.
"You brewed it yourself? At an ungodly hour?" Gyu In's eyes lit up at the comment.
Eun Wol twisted the lid open and inhaled the faint steam. Still warm.
"If you weren't who you are," he said, "I think you'd make a good tea master."
"That sounds like a dream. I wouldn't mind," Gyu In replied with a soft smile. "Try it."
Eun Wol took a sip. A tangy sourness spread across his tongue, quickly chased by a mellow sweetness. But what caught him off guard more than the taste was the fresh lemony scent coming off Gyu In.
He smelled… pleasantly nice.
"It's good, isn't it?" Gyu In grinned. "One of my favourite teas."
He reached forward and turned on some soft music, something old and gentle. "If you're tired, you can catch a wink."
He hummed along to the tune while Eun Wol stared out of the window, watching the city slip by in long, sleepy streaks of light.
"Just sleep. I don't mind," Gyu In said, flicking a glance at him.
"No," Eun Wol murmured, already halfway there. He pulled his hoodie over his head and crossed his arms like a sulky child.
Gyu In smiled anyway. "Just don't snore. Or drool. I have leather seats."
Eun Wol didn't answer. Two minutes later, he was fast asleep.
The ride was smooth, the hum of the tyres steady.
Before long, Eun Wol stirred at the strange sense of something hovering near his face. He blinked his eyes open and found Gyu In's head right in front of him.
"What the hell—"
"Hush," Gyu In hissed, eyes still fixed ahead. "Don't move."
Eun Wol froze. His heart began to thud faster, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the sudden closeness or whatever unseen thing was behind him.
"Gotcha."
Gyu In leaned back with a smug grin, holding up a crumpled tissue.
"What are you doing…"
"A grasshopper got in. Must've sneaked through the back window when I opened it for the breeze," Gyu In explained as he stepped out of the car. "Come on. We've arrived."
He bent down and gently placed the grasshopper on the grass before retrieving his backpack.
Eun Wol climbed out after him and looked around.
A wooden sign stood near the entrance: Baekwoon Trail (White Cloud Trail).
The world was still wrapped in pre-dawn blue, quiet and untouched except for the faint rustle of leaves and the distant caw of a crow.
He stood near the base of the trail, his hands tucked deeper into his coat pockets.
"Are you ready?" Gyu In asked.
Eun Wol didn't answer right away.
He looked at him, then tipped his head back to the sky.
The darkness there was already giving way to the faintest brush of orange along the horizon.
"Yeah…" he muttered, his voice soft, almost like breath fog. "Let's go."
*
Baekwoon Trail wasn't difficult, yet it wasn't easy either.
The air was cold, the kind that bit at their cheeks and turned each breath into a faint curl of smoke.
No one else was there.
Just the two of them, the still-early sky, and the soft rustle of unseen birds waking somewhere among the branches.
Eun Wol kept pace beside Gyu In in silence.
He didn't feel the need to speak.
And Gyu In didn't try to fill the space; not with questions, not with charm.
He simply walked, his steps steady, his stride quietly matching Eun Wol's.
Every now and then, he would point out a safer patch of ground to step on, or slow down whenever Eun Wol's breath hitched against the cold climb.
It was so different from the noise that usually filled Eun Wol's head.
No pressure. No masks. No spotlight.
Just… a hike.
A hike with someone who didn't try to fix him but only walked beside him.
Maybe that was what made it feel dangerous.
*
"Do you do this often?"
Gyu In didn't even sound winded. "Hiking? Yeah. I used to do it every weekend when I was younger."
"You are so not… you."
Gyu In gave a soft sigh. "And how many times do I have to tell you? We're not that different."
"It's just…"
"Nah. All assumption." Gyu In waggled his index finger left and right with a teasing grin. "So stop assuming, alright?"
Eun Wol let it drop.
He fixed his eyes on the path, steadying his breath.
It had been too long since he'd let someone walk beside him.
Too long since he'd reached for help.
The last time he had begged for understanding… no one had stayed.
The hush of the mountain thickened as they climbed higher.
Pale streaks of gold seeped into the navy sky, brushing the edges of the clouds with warmth.
Eun Wol slowed, resting his palm against the rough bark of a tree. His breath clouded faintly in the chill.
He didn't look tired, just somewhere far away.
"You okay?" Gyu In asked quietly, careful not to break the fragile stillness.
Eun Wol nodded, then, as if remembering, added, "Just needed a moment."
Gyu In stepped up beside him and followed his gaze. Out toward the gap in the trees where the light was spilling through.
It looked as if the sky itself was blooming.
"…It's peaceful here," Eun Wol murmured, almost to himself. His voice was softer than usual, the clipped edges dulled. "Like it doesn't know what the world is like."
"Maybe it doesn't need to," Gyu In said.
Silence again yet it felt held, not heavy.
Eun Wol exhaled, slow and even. "I used to think I hated mornings. Maybe I just hated waking up."
Gyu In turned his head slightly.
"When the day starts," Eun Wol went on, eyes fixed ahead, "it feels like everything starts asking something of you again. You have to be someone. Answer. Smile. Nod. Perform."
A dry huff of laughter escaped him. "Even when you're not on stage."
Gyu In let the words settle between them, like a pebble dropped into a still pond.
"You don't have to perform now," he said at last.
Eun Wol blinked. For a heartbeat, something in his expression softened then shifted back. "But I still do, don't I?"
Gyu In started to answer, then didn't. He understood too well: the sense that even in quiet, you wear a version of yourself you can't peel away.
They moved on.
The trail opened into a clearing that looked over the mountainside.
The sun had climbed just enough to pour light into the valley below, casting long, ink-dark shadows across the slopes.
Eun Wol stood at the edge, silent.
Gyu In stayed a step behind, not looking at the view but at him.
In that morning light, Eun Wol looked ... not healed, not whole, but real.
"Then… is this worth waking up to?" Gyu In asked.
A soft, almost surprised "yes."
For now, that was enough.