The courtyard was already quiet by the time Ji-hun left the school. His footsteps echoed lightly on the sidewalk. His bag hung off one shoulder, and the usual city noise was starting to creep in from outside the school. He took the narrow street between two low buildings, a shortcut he sometimes used on his way home.

A small sound made him stop. It was a faint mewl.

Near the curb, a kitten was curled up by the base of a fence. Its fur was messy, and its ears twitched. He crouched down and held out one hand, careful not to scare it away.

But just as he reached out, he heard something else. The sound was soft and muffled, almost lost between the walls. Someone was crying. It was a girl's voice, shaking, coming from just around the corner where the alley narrowed.

Ji-hun slowly straightened up and moved closer, his heartbeat picking up a little. He watched his steps, and when he reached the corner, he leaned just enough to look around it.

What he saw rooted him in place. 

A girl stood with her back to the wall. She was shaking, and she pressed flat against it like she wanted to disappear. Shin Ho-jin stood right in front of her, and he had one arm up against the wall near her head. He was talking, but his voice was too low to make out. Whatever he was saying did not sound kind. 

The girl looked terrified. Her eyes were glassy, and her face was wet with silent tears.

Ji-hun pulled back right away. He stepped away from the corner and leaned against the cool wall, staring straight ahead and trying to steady himself.

"I shouldn't be here," he said quietly. "I don't want trouble. I just need to leave."

Before he could move, the girl ran out of the alley. She crashed into him with her shoulder, and they both lost their balance for a moment. She did not stop. She kept running, and the sound of her crying faded as she disappeared down the street.

Ji-hun's bag hit the ground, and his books and papers scattered across the sidewalk. He dropped to his knees right away and started picking everything up. His sketchbook fell open on the concrete, and a few pencils rolled toward the gutter. The kitten jumped at the noise, then slipped through a narrow gap in the wall and disappeared.

Then he noticed the shadow stretching across the pavement. It was long and still. Ji-hun's hand paused on the strap of his bag, and something tight settled in his chest. He did not need to turn around to know.

He's behind me, he thought. Of course he is.

"I didn't see anything," he said, without turning around. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Just leave me alone, please."

He heard a sound behind him, half a huff and half a chuckle. He finally looked up. Ho-jin was a few steps away, looking at ease, one hand in his pocket.

"Calm down, hoobae," he said. "Here."

He crouched down, picked up a crumpled sheet of paper, and held it out to him with a faint smirk.

"Guess you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Ho-jin said. "I'd appreciate it if you kept what you saw to yourself."

Ji-hun grabbed the paper from his hand.

"I don't care what you're doing," he said. "Just don't drag me into it."

He shoved everything back into his bag and turned away right after, leaving without looking back.

Ho-jin stayed crouched near the edge of the alley and watched him leave.

"I'm starting to see that kid more than I see my own mother," he said to himself, amused.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number from memory.

"Ya... Yeah," he said after a second. "I talked to her. The idiot almost pissed herself."

He laughed and glanced back toward the alley once.

"Don't worry. I took care of it."

—

Ji-hun was dreaming. In the dim alley of the dream, he was the one pressed back against the wall. Ho-jin stood in front of him, his voice low and threatening.

"I'll break your bones, you little whelp."

The words echoed in Ji-hun's head. His heart was racing when he woke up, the sheets damp with sweat. The room was still dark, with just a thin line of morning light slipping in behind the curtains. His alarm was set to go off in five minutes.

He reached out and turned it off before it rang, then sat up slowly. His breathing was uneven.

"I can't believe I saw that jerk in my dream," he muttered. He rubbed his forehead and got out of bed.

He moved through the kitchen on autopilot. He cracked eggs into a pan, toasted bread, and poured milk into two glasses. The routine helped him feel steadier. When breakfast was ready, he went into his father's room and climbed onto the bed. He wrapped an arm around him and rested his cheek against his dad's back, staying there until he woke up.

"Daddy, breakfast is ready."

Dong-min woke up slowly, still sleepy. He smiled.

"I saw your mother in my dream," he said.

For a moment, Ji-hun thought about his own dream.

He took his father's hand, led him to the bathroom, then hurried back to the table to check if everything was in order. When Dong-min came back, he was still talking about the dream.

"It was really nice," he said. "I saw us when we were young, Ji-hun-ah¹. In my dreams, everything is still clear," Dong-min said quietly. "Still bright."

Ji-hun helped him sit down, then sat across from him. Dong-min leaned forward in his chair and smelled the table. Then he smiled.

"You're getting better at this every morning, Ji-hun."

"I've been looking up recipes online," Ji-hun said. "I think I actually like cooking for us."

They ate quietly and talked in low voices in the warm kitchen. Dong-min asked if the photography club was meeting today, and Ji-hun nodded.

"Yeah, after the last period."

"Are you nervous?"

Ji-hun shrugged. "Not really."

—

After breakfast, Ji-hun washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen until everything looked spotless. He grabbed his bag, checked his supplies one more time, and carefully slung the camera bag over his shoulder before leaving.

Outside, the streets were still quiet, with the morning already well underway. He took his usual route, including the shortcut between two buildings. As he passed the alley, he noticed something familiar. The small kitten was back again. Smiling slightly, he crouched and stretched out his hand.

Just as he reached out, he heard something. It was a low noise, muffled by the narrow alley walls.

He paused, frowning.

Not today, he thought. I don't wanna see anything.

He shook his head and was about to stand up when another sound reached him. It wasn't exactly words, but the unmistakable sounds of movement. He hesitated, then slowly peeked around the corner.

Shin Ho-jin was there with a girl. Ji-hun wondered if he lived on this corner as he watched him. The girl was tall and pretty, her uniform fitting her perfectly. They stood close, her arms around his neck. They were kissing slowly.

Ji-hun stared. He clearly did not like what he was seeing.

How can someone do that first thing in the morning?

Feeling disgusted, he was about to leave when Ho-jin suddenly looked up, noticing him immediately.

Ji-hun's stomach twisted and his face went hot. He quickly stepped away and started walking fast toward the school.

Behind him, Ho-jin's face turned red. He glanced at the girl, then sighed.

"Let's go to school, Min-ji," he said.

—------

–아¹ (-ah) A casual Korean vocative ending added to names or nicknames to call someone in a friendly or intimate way. It softens the tone and shows closeness.