We Must Be Killers P2
Junhong barely saw Jongup at school. Most of the time he'd see him in the hallways but when Jongup was with his friends Junhong tried to not make eye contact. If he's alone, Jongup would give a knowing look but Junhong would be indifferent. It was his first few weeks in high school and already Junhong's head had already been slammed into a locker, face flushed in the toilet bowl and slipped face down when going down a flight of stairs. Junhong was surprised at how much faster the bullying progressed but he guessed that everyone already knew who he was. It shouldn't be something he can't handle.
"Killer."
Junhong went home alone most of his days, except for that second day of school Jongup walked with him. Today, the same face caught up with him, his steps slowing down as he walked next to the taller. Junhong had silently wished Jongup would have walked with him the days that came after the second, but after weeks pass he lost hope. Fortunately, he came today.
"That's what they call you, right?" Jongup asked, glancing at Junhong. "I wonder who's really the killer around here. Although, it does fit the fact that you're so pale and you’re emotionless a hundred and ten percent of the time."
Junhong kept silent. He wondered what Jongup really wanted from him. And although he knew it’s impossible, he was starting to think it was friendship. Maybe. Hopefully.
Jongup didn't say much. He sort of just made the walk back home less silent with his footsteps, constantly trying to find dried up leaves abandoned on the road to make a crisp crunching sound. Just that made Junhong a little less lonely.
They were reaching the cross section when Jongup finally spoke up again. "Sorry I didn't come before. I kept having things to do and by the time I finished I guessed you would've walked by yourself already. Do you know how many times I tried to catch up with you?"
Junhong had no idea. But he wasn't making the attempt to guess; probably a lot. He was mostly surprised someone would make such an effort and didn't do so to make him bleed. It felt refreshing. Like someone who lived not to mock him actually existed.
"Well, I'll try to catch up again tomorrow." Jongup said as he turned right, to his road.
The thing about Jongup was that although Junhong was obviously hurt the first time they met, he didn't ask if Junhong was okay. He assumed Junhong could handle himself. So if Jongup's intention wasn't to protect Junhong, then what?
Junhong's theory was proven when his face was slammed right next to Jongup. They made eye contact for a second and the captain of the hockey club took the door of Jongup's open locker and slammed it into Junhong's face. When the bully's hand let go of his grasp on Junhong's collar, Junhong walked it off, wiping the blood from the cut on his lower lip. Jongup didn't say a word.
"Oh my God, you made eye contact with the killer!" some girls around him muttered. "Isn't there like a curse? Like you're gonna get killed next or something?"
"Get ready your Asian ass, Moon. You're gonna get murdered tonight," some of his friends teased. Jongup didn't say anything, but they all sort of just laughed it off. They knew no one was going to get murdered. The 'killer' had never done anything. They say the punches thrown was to punish him for his father's sins. But his father only killed one person and that was his mother - how did it have anything to do with any of them? In the end, it was all out of boredom. For the sake of having fun.
Junhong had never had these thoughts. In elementary he always thought he deserved it. In middle school his brain just froze. He decided whether he deserved it or not, it's happening and will always happen so there's no use to thinking about it. The fact that his train of thoughts started running again could only be caused by one reason - Moon Jongup.
When Jongup caught up with him again that day, Junhong was almost scared. There was something that was going to happen from this acquaintance. He was sure of it. In one way or another, Junhong wasn't ready for a change. Would things be worse? Maybe it would be better. Junhong hold his thoughts for awhile. So much thinking after a long time of not doing so hurt his brain a little.
Jongup reached into his pocket and revealed a crumpled up plaster - flesh coloured and worn out. Junhong looked at the other, hesitant. Jongup gestured it was for him. The taller took the plaster, unsure of what to do with it.
"For your lips."
Jongup smiled with satisfaction when Junhong plastered it on. Although it was rather impractical to put a plaster on your lips. Who does that? Junhong thought. But he guessed it was how Jongup showed his affection.
"Your story was great," Jongup told. "From the other side of town people heard about you. That's where I came from, by the way. The school on the other side of this town. Moved just last year. Anyways. I really thought you were a scary kid who had a face that told everyone not to mess with you. I was wrong, wasn't I?"
Jongup gave a hasty laugh. Is that what people said about me? Junhong thought. What a joke.
"'That kid comes to school with breath that smells like blood.' 'I heard he eats freshly killed birds for breakfast.' 'Rabbits for dinner.'" Jongup recited a few of the famous lines Junhong was known for. "Now that I hear myself saying it it sounds so ridiculous. I can't believe I actually thought it was true. Then there was this other one. They said your dad killed your mom and now he's in jail and that's why you live in an orphanage. Can't believe what people come up with."
Junhong felt the blood drain from his face. "Th-that's real."
Jongup didn't say anything. It was already surprising that Junhong was actually talking. And now he's starting to realize he'd been hanging out with a murderer's child. Jongup stayed silent for awhile.
"Really?" was all he could say after awhile. Junhong didn't respond.
His eyes on the road below him, Junhong decided to talk. "It’s true. My dad killed my mom. My breath did smell of blood - not that anyone would have known, no one came close enough without making me bleed some more. The reason it smells like blood is because I wouldn't have been even a mile near school and someone would've knocked me down to the sidewalk. I've lost so much blood in my years I'm wondering why I'm not in a hospital right now. And you're right. It’s nothing like they say. I'm just a toy to all of them. Not a killer."
"Although it would seem cool if you were."
Junhong looked up. Jongup smirked. "Just saying, it does fit your image if you weren't so weak." He gave the taller a little push but Junhong held up his stance. He was used to people pushing him, but now he's starting to wonder - was there ever such a thing called a friendly push? If there was, was that it?
They didn't say anything until they reached the cross section. Jongup gave a small wave and Junhong nodded in response this time. It felt good to speak once in awhile. He hoped that Jongup would keep coming - preferably speaking less - because he had so many things to say. About eight years of talking that he held in before.
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