Chapter 20

Naru, having eaten every last bite of the pizza and pasta, waddled out with a full stomach.

While he devoured everything, Gyuyeon had only picked at his pasta a few times before setting his fork down.

Even in the awkward silence, Naru kept eating stubbornly.

All the while, Gyuyeon repeated himself two or three times: “I’m not buying this because I like you,” and “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

He’d done everything—fed him, bought him clothes—yet it sounded like he was desperately making excuses.

“You’ve eaten, so that’s enough. Let’s go home.”

“I want to look around a little more.”

Clinging to Gyuyeon’s sleeve, Naru pointed to a corner of the first floor.

A cultural event hall was hosting a photo exhibition by a popular photographer.

The wall was all glass, letting them peek inside. A few photos caught Naru’s attention immediately.

He’d gotten clothes, a haircut, a meal—and now he wanted to look at an exhibition.

Take away a few things, and this outing almost resembled a date.

Gyuyeon deliberately pulled Naru’s hand toward the entrance.

“Just go.”

“Can’t I look?”

“Are you trying to turn this into a date or something?”

“…If possible, I’d like to. A date.”

Naru murmured it softly, turning his head aside as he stopped walking.

Since they were out anyway… couldn’t Gyuyeon walk around with him just a little longer?

The thought stung, yet his eyes still lingered on the cultural hall.

With no choice, Gyuyeon turned back. ‘Fine. One last time. Then we leave.’

“Oh, looks like the artist. Shall we go?”

“You’re right. It’s my first time seeing him in real life. Lucky.”

The timing couldn’t have been worse.

The artist appeared, moving casually through the hall while chatting with visitors.

Others who recognized him began to gather.

Naru was one of them.

Holding tightly to Gyuyeon’s pinky as they walked, he craned his neck.

‘So that’s the person who took all these photos…’

Serene landscapes hung on the walls—tranquil lakeside villages, fields where children played. Peaceful photos that soothed the mind.

Lost in thought, Naru glanced down at their hands.

Gyuyeon twitched but didn’t let go, holding his finger firmly so Naru wouldn’t get lost. He waited quietly as Naru admired the photos.

It was a small gesture of kindness.

Then—

“Oh, ah…”

A crowd suddenly barged in.

The first floor of the department store was already bustling, but with the exhibition drawing tourists and newcomers, it became suffocatingly packed.

Gyuyeon tightened his pinky grip, making sure not to lose Naru.

And in that instant, Naru’s heart jolted.

‘If I let go now… will he come find me?’

He’d been kind, but always insisted, ‘Don’t get the wrong idea.’

What if he didn’t feel the same?

What if he never came back for him?

Cold sweat ran down his forehead. His pupils trembled like a leaf in the wind.

“Excuse me, let us through.”

“I saw that artist on TV recently, and now a photo exhibition here too.”

“Yeah, the photos aren’t bad.”

Three or four women brushed past.

The space of a second stretched into thirty.

Someone blocked their linked hands—and then, somehow, senselessly, that hand slipped free.

Naru let go first.

His eyelids fluttered once.

Five people passed between them. Then seven. Then fifteen. Then twenty.

And just like that, Naru drifted away.

It was foolish, impulsive. But he wanted to test Gyuyeon’s feelings.

‘If he comes looking for me… then he wants to stay by my side. If not… then I’ll give up first.’

But if that happened, where would he go?

Step by step, he backed away. Soon, the cultural hall was far behind.

Naru climbed to the 12th floor, seeking the quietest spot he could find.

There was a reason: he thought, since Gyuyeon had first brought him here, maybe he’d check here first.

By the restrooms, tucked away in a corridor, stood a vending machine—though not for drinks.

“Flowers…?”

Inside were bouquets—roses, baby’s breath, delicate arrangements.

Rummaging through his pockets, Naru pulled out crumpled bills—the change leftover from nagging Gyuyeon into buying him snacks earlier.

Counting carefully, he had about eight thousand won. Not much.

The bouquets cost over ten thousand each. With what he had, he could only afford the smallest size.

He smoothed the bills, fed them into the machine, and retrieved a palm-sized bouquet of dried sky-blue baby’s breath.

Neatly wrapped, small but pretty.

‘Why did I pick this?’

‘If he comes looking… I’ll give it to him.’

Clutching it to his chest, Naru crouched by the vending machine. His head buzzed, his heart still pounding from the moment he let go.

Meanwhile, Gyuyeon was in turmoil.

He had held Naru’s hand firmly while waiting, but suddenly—he was gone.

When he turned, the boy who had been there was nowhere to be seen.

At first, he assumed Naru was nearby. But even after the crowd thinned and the artist left, he couldn’t find him.

He checked every corner of the hall. Nothing. Not a glimpse of hair.

And when he realized Naru was truly gone, his mind went blank.

Hadn’t he thought it didn’t matter if Naru disappeared?

He’d left the door open, told him to run, even said “don’t like me.” He thought it was fine—because Naru always clung to him anyway, unfazed.

But suddenly, he was gone. Just like that.

Had he been waiting for this chance all along?

‘No. That kid wanted to stay close. He wouldn’t do this on purpose… It must’ve been the crowd. Just an accident.’

Still, his chest twisted.

So Gyuyeon searched.

“Did you see a short boy with yellowish light brown hair, cute-looking?”

“Sorry, sir, no one like that came in.”

Over and over, he asked store employees.

Making an announcement was unthinkable—if word reached his brothers or father, it’d cause problems.

Half an hour passed, combing the first floor like a man chasing a mouse. Nothing.

He searched the second, then the third floor. Checked the perfume shops especially.

No one had seen him.

An hour and a half later, he sat on a bench, splashing water on his face.

His eyes were empty.

If he couldn’t find him by now, maybe Naru had left the building altogether.

‘Wasn’t this what I wanted? He let go first. I can just go home. Pretend nothing happened.’

Even as he told himself that, his heart pounded with frustration.

‘So why the hell did I run around like a lunatic looking for him?’

If he did find him… what then? Take him home? Keep living side by side as if nothing happened? Even though he’d already decided he couldn’t like him, couldn’t be responsible forever?

‘Be cold, Yoo Gyuyeon. Be yourself. Stop acting like this.’

He stood, walking toward the exit slowly—far slower than before.

His complexion was so dark, it looked like the first time this year he’d aged overnight.

“Oh, it’s Gyuyeon. Why are you wandering here looking like that?”

A familiar voice.

Geonhyuk, passing by by chance, spotted him. He had been planning to see Gyuyeon soon anyway, so this coincidence pleased him.

But when his eyes scanned Gyuyeon’s sullen face, he caught the strange atmosphere immediately—and his lips curled into a knowing smile.