DASH-Chapter 22Vol 2. : Side Story -

When a child did something commendable, adults would praise them by calling them “mature.” And the kind of behavior adults deemed commendable—“mature”—was never anything grand. It was simply suppressing emotions and complying with the situation as much as possible. Just like them. Not showing anger even when upset, not expressing desire even when wanting something, not voicing hurt even when feeling slighted, and not making a big fuss even when something was joyful.

And when one tried so hard not to show emotion like that, the feelings themselves would start to fade. To the point where, eventually, it wouldn’t even be pretense anymore. No matter what happened, they wouldn’t feel that angry, wouldn’t feel all that hurt, wouldn’t really crave much. Even if they were happy, they wouldn’t laugh out loud; even if sad, they wouldn’t cry; even if disappointed, they wouldn’t dwell on it.

In other words, they’d lose the capacity for emotional response.

Jiheon didn’t normally dislike being in that state. After going through the side effects of suppressants a few times, he preferred it that way. Jiheon didn’t want to get swept up in whirlwinds of emotion so strong that not even he could control them. That was just exhausting.

But ever since he reunited with Jaekyung, he’d always been in that state. He didn’t want to boast about himself, but he did want to boast about Jaekyung. He wanted to put him on the highest pedestal, in a place where everyone could see, just to show him off to one more person. When Jaekyung was praised, Jiheon felt proud and happy. When he was criticized, it hurt unbearably. When Jaekyung smiled, Jiheon felt like he could explode with joy, and when he was upset, it felt like Jiheon’s own heart was tearing apart.

When Jaekyung was beside him, it felt like he had the whole world—but when he wasn’t, it felt like Jiheon was completely alone in it.

He hated this. These emotions that even he couldn’t handle. It was too much. And even now, as he was thinking all this, he missed Jaekyung so badly it was driving him crazy.

—Bzzz, bzzz.

Right as the thought crossed his mind, the phone on the couch vibrated. It was probably Jaekyung. Around the time he’d normally call.

Jiheon hesitated for a second before answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hyung? You haven’t gone out for your walk yet?"

That was the first thing Jaekyung asked. Probably because it wasn’t noisy in the background like usual.

"No, I haven’t gone yet."

"And you? Are you at the dorm? Training’s over?"

"Yeah. Our relay team just set a new record today. Three minutes, thirteen seconds, point oh-two."

He could practically see the proud expression on Jaekyung’s face through the phone.

And just like that, the tears welled up before Jiheon could even stop them.

He instinctively cupped the phone’s speaker and ducked his head. The tears fell in fat drops onto his belly in an instant.

He didn’t even know why he was crying. It was like a tidal wave of emotions had crashed into him all at once. Pride that Jaekyung was doing so well, frustration that Jaekyung had turned him into this wreck while seeming completely fine himself, longing that turned to resentment because he wasn’t here... and most of all, shame and self-loathing that he was having these pathetic thoughts even after Jaekyung called out of concern.

"Hyung... What’s wrong?"

Even though he’d tried to block the speaker, the sound of him choking back tears must have still gotten through. Or maybe the silence just lasted too long and seemed strange.

"Hyung."

Jaekyung didn’t ask what was wrong. He didn’t ask if Jiheon was crying. But with just his voice, it was obvious that he already knew.

"No... I’m watching TV and something sad came on."

Jiheon didn’t deny he was crying, but offered a clumsy excuse instead.

"I’ll call you back... in a bit."

He thought Jaekyung might ask what show it was to make him cry like that—but he didn’t even ask that. All he said was, "Okay. I’ll call you later," and hung up.

That made Jiheon feel relieved, and anxious at the same time. The fact that Jaekyung didn’t push, didn’t scold, just quietly ended the call—it felt like he saw straight through the lie.

But Jiheon couldn’t call him back now and say, "Hey, seriously, I was watching TV, don’t jump to conclusions," either. He didn’t have the energy, and more than anything, the tears weren’t stopping.

He buried his face into a cushion and sobbed.

He cried without knowing exactly why, but still, after crying his heart out for nearly an hour, he did feel a little better. He felt lighter—and hungry. But he still didn’t feel like eating. So he just sat curled up on the couch, sniffling, until Jini started squirming around in his belly like he’d had enough.

The little brat—his dad’s crying and he’s in there throwing a fit because he wants food.

"You’re not my son, punk. You’re Kwon Jaekyung’s kid."

Jiheon got up and took the sandwich out of the fridge—the one he’d bought for Kwon Jaekyung’s son.

The sandwich just tasted like a typical sandwich. Still, it was way better than the macaron.

After finishing the sandwich, Jiheon sprawled back onto the couch. He’d eaten dinner, so he should go for a walk. He needed to get in at least thirty minutes. That’s «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» what he thought, but even as the thought played in his head, he stayed slouched on the couch, not moving an inch. Jini seemed to be in a good mood from the sandwich, thumping around a bit, getting the hiccups, and then finally settling down.

Jiheon picked up the remote again and flipped through the channels. He went from channel 001 to 700 twice, but nothing caught his eye. He set the remote down and lay back on the sofa with a cushion under his head. Then the thought hit him—"Ah, I shouldn’t lie down right after eating..."—and immediately, he started spiraling about the walk again.

Wouldn’t it be better to just go than lie here debating it forever? But no, didn’t they say if you really don’t want to do something, it’s okay to just not do it? Ah, but I ate so many sweets today... Then again, I don’t have to worry about blood sugar anymore, so maybe it’s fine?

He was stuck in indecision when suddenly—beep beep—the sound of the digital lock being pressed came from the front door.

Jiheon bolted upright in shock, and the moment he sat up, the door opened and Jaekyung walked in.

"......"

Jiheon was so stunned that even as Jaekyung stepped out of his shoes and came inside, he couldn’t say a word.

"You... Why are you here?"

He finally pulled himself together enough to ask. Jaekyung, now standing fully in the living room, set his phone down on the coffee table and answered.

"I came to see you."

His expression said, what other reason could there be?

"Hey..."

Jiheon let out a groan, his energy suddenly draining.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

He ran a hand down his face.

"Are you out of your mind? You think training camp is a joke?"

His voice rose sharply, trembling with anger. But the anger wasn’t directed at Jaekyung. It was directed at himself—for having his immature feelings found out, for making someone who was supposed to be in training come all the way here. He was angry and embarrassed.

"Of course it’s not a joke."

Jaekyung still sounded completely calm. Then, instead of sitting on the sofa, he stepped closer and leaned forward slightly, speaking softly.

"But hyung... If your pregnant husband is clearly struggling alone, and I just sit back because I’m at training camp, that would make me the crazy one."

Only then did Jiheon lift his face from his palm. Jaekyung’s face was right in front of him. Their eyes met, and Jaekyung said, in an unusually composed voice:

"Hyung, if someone at your company were in camp, and said they were worried sick about their pregnant wife or husband back home, what would you say? You’d probably tell them not to suffer alone, take a leave for a bit, and go check on them, right?"

He didn’t wait for an answer.

"And if the coach said no, you’d probably call the coach yourself to persuade them. You’d say there’s no way they can focus with that worry hanging over them, and that it’s not like it’s for some trivial reason—it’s for a pregnant partner, just let them go for a bit, right?"

"......"

Jiheon was at a loss for words and stared at him in confusion. Jaekyung raised his eyebrows like, See? and finally sat down beside him on the sofa.

"And anyway, I can’t stay long. I have to be back before morning roll call. I already explained everything to Coach, promised the younger guys wouldn’t find out I went to Seoul. He has to consider team discipline and whatever else too."

Jaekyung rattled everything off as if he’d predicted exactly how Jiheon would try to scold him. He’d come fully prepared, like someone determined not to give his hyung even the slightest opening to nitpick.

And really, there was nothing to say. It wasn’t desertion—he’d properly reported everything, got official leave, and even timed it so he wouldn’t miss any training. It was such a cooperative attitude that it would’ve been unthinkable from the old Jaekyung. Even without the comparison, it was impressive. If any athlete made this much effort to visit family while in camp, no one would call it anything but admirable.

"Are you mad that I came?"

What could Jiheon say, now that this guy had driven an hour and a half in the middle of the night just to ask that?

"......"

When he didn’t answer, Jaekyung nudged him with his arm and said, "Hyung."

"Are you upset I came? You don’t want to see me?"

Asking with that face, like a kid hoping to be praised—there was no way Jiheon could say yes. Especially not when he’d just been crying from missing him.

"No... I’m happy."

Jiheon admitted honestly, because he had no choice.

"I’m really happy."

And as he said it, for some reason, the tears came again. He had no idea why. It felt like his tear glands were broken.