So Jihoon smiled, and shook his head.
“No, Hyung, I don’t have anything I want.”
Even hours after that, when Jihoon was already alone in his room, he couldn’t erase the image
of the disappointed look on Seungcheol’s face. For many years now, he had never told his
brother what he wanted, even what he really needed. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
He sank himself to his bed, letting out a deep sigh. His toes and heels were sore. It had been
for some time. His shoes didn’t really fit anymore. It hurt to walk in it every day. But that’s
okay. He could endure it. It’s nothing. Nothing compared to what he got earlier today
anyway—ouch.
Jihoon sat up, putting his hand on his mouth. A dot of blood stained his palm, and a tooth fell.
Damn. He should protect his face more from now on. He wouldn’t want to be completely
toothless by the end of his senior year. He reached for a napkin to clean his hand, then put it
on the table next to his bed, turning the lights off. He rolled to the side, closing his eyes.
That night, Jihoon had the strangest dream.
Of a pair of massive red eyes in the vast darkness. Wisps of whispers swirled around his feet.
A laugh, a scream, a cry, clamored in the nothingness. A velvety voice engulfed him.
“We accept your offer.”
Jihoon woke up gasping for air, cold sweats dripping down his body. A dream. It’s just a
dream. Jihoon wiped his face with his hands, trying to clear his foggy mind. He was sure he
had awakened from his sleep, but what he saw next made him doubt it.
There, on the table next to his bed, right beside where he had laid his head just a moment ago,
was a pair of shoes.
It was not new. It was rather old and grimy, with dirt and dust. Like it had been worn for years
before suddenly being forgotten. But it fit Jihoon’s feet perfectly. Jihoon tried making a few
steps. No more pain. The shoes were comfortable. He cleaned it thoroughly, scrubbed every
crease. When the thick dust had washed away, he found a small carving on the inner sole. Two
letters. He couldn’t recall anyone he knew with that initial.
Well. Maybe, maybe it’s the initial of the former owner of the shoes, Jihoon thought. Seungc-
heol-hyung must have bought it from a secondhand store. Yes, that must be it. He was sure of
it.
But the eyes haunted him. And the whispers. The voices.
The words it said. And the fact that his tooth he left on the table had disappeared.