No. Not this.
“Let me see.”
No.
“Come on, we’re friends, right? We shouldn’t keep any secret from each other. I just want to
see it, I swear.”
“No.”
Silence dropped. No one expected him to talk back. He had never once talked back. Joonjae
hissed dangerously.
“What did you just say?”
“I said no.”
Jihoon didn’t know where his courage came from. He raised his head, glaring back at them,
just as menacingly. This time, he would not let them have their way.
But he was outnumbered.
They attacked him from every direction, as if trying to break every inch of his body. He hit
back, kicked back, with everything he got. But no matter how hard he tried to defend himself,
he was no match for them. They were all bigger, stronger, with no sense of mercy or remorse.
Soon, he was sprawled in the dirt, unable to move. Half his face was red with blood, soaking
his collars. His hands had lost its strength, the box was easily taken from him, and he couldn’t
even move a finger to stop it.
“Let’s see, what is it that you’re protecting so stubbornly. Hm?” Joonjae tore a fold of paper
from the ribbon. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Hyung. Pfft.” They all barked in
loud laughter, almost hysterically. “Didn’t know you’re such a nice little brother, Jihoon.
Here, I’ll give it back to you.” He put the box in front of his face. Weakly, Jihoon tried to
move his hand. It’s Seungcheol-hyung’s. He had to save it.
“ARGH!!!”
A foot stomped on his hand just when he reached the box, smashing it, breaking the watch,
shattering his bones.
“Whoops. Sorry. My foot slipped.” Joonjae smiled at him. No apology in his eyes, no guilt.
Just cruel amusement. “See you tomorrow, Jihoon. Come help me practicing my drabble and
shoot at the gym, yeah? Don’t worry, you don’t need your hand for it. Your face is enough.”