#29 Sunflower and Milestone (8)
Usually, after raping someone, Yuchan had two options. He could coerce ongoing sex through thorough threats, or terrify them so completely they wouldn't even dream of resisting, then exploit them sexually. But after ejaculating inside Seohae twice, Yuchan left her in the bathroom and stepped out alone. Then he simply went back by himself. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to hear whatever words she'd pull out once this fierce excitement faded. Whatever it was, it was abnormal. If she reported him to the police—or even just someone she knew—Yuchan would end up behind bars. Oddly enough, that didn't bother him either. Shaking off stray thoughts like a man in despair, Yuchan lit a cigarette, savoring the muggy summer air.
Yuchan lay in the hammock strung up in front of the camper, just like always, puffing away on his smoke. It was the kind of summer day where standing in the blazing sun turned your skin red in no time, but the tent-shaded hammock caught a cool breeze that felt just right. Best of all, no asphalt meant the grass blocked the radiant heat—the secret to surviving summer in comfort. It had been three days since he'd last seen Seohae. She hadn't come looking for him again. And with no sign of anyone else hunting him down—like the police, say—it seemed she hadn't reported it anywhere. The sky visible through the mesh was the same as ever, yet tangled worries twisted in place of clouds. Why the hell had he done that? It was a wildly irrational, emotional impulse. He vaguely knew it spelled doom for whatever he had with Seohae. He'd brought this sticky end on himself, and all that settled in his heart was a brief resignation. Yuchan was drifting through time with no thoughts at all when his eyes widened. A familiar silhouette entered his view—one he'd thought he'd never see again.
It was Seohae, coming up the hillside with a bunch of wildflowers cradled in her arms. She glanced around, searching for someone. At the sight, something boiled up inside Yuchan. An emotion he couldn't name. Countless undefined fragments tangled and bubbled in his chest. They were too complex for his immature mind to process, leading him to do something ridiculous even by his own standards. He charged toward her like he was furious, planting himself in front of Seohae. She flinched slightly at his intensity. But standing before her, Yuchan realized he couldn't utter a single word. And in front of that silence, Seohae neither raged nor screamed. She just gave him the faintest smile.
"Nice to see you. How've you been?"
It hit him like a blow to the head. Yuchan understood. To spare the people around her from getting hurt, Seohae had made herself an outcast. No matter how brutally he'd treated her, Yuchan was the only one left she could lean on. It gifted him a vile sense of superiority—the kind he'd always secretly craved over her unspoken feelings of inferiority. At the same time, disgust welled up at himself for catching feelings like this from a mere little girl. Seohae kept talking casually to his scary silence.
"After that day, I had a bad fever and couldn't move from the house at all."
She twirled the ends of her hair awkwardly as she spoke. The emotion in her eyes was something Yuchan couldn't grasp. Like a kicked puppy crawling back to nuzzle at his feet. Women he'd thoroughly broken or drugged into submission showed that look, but Seohae fit neither. Was she really feeling no resentment, no anger? Even after her first time being practically raped in a bathroom and then abandoned?
"What's your angle?"
Yuchan had only one move. He grabbed her slender neck, squeezing like he was disciplining a yapping mutt. A threat that he could snap her windpipe anytime—an implicit warning. He controlled it so it barely disrupted her breathing, and Seohae spoke in her steady, deliberate tone.
"Not everyone's like you. I just missed you, that's all. Screw your 'angle.'"
"What?"
"You know how much it hurt? My stomach stabbed like knives, my bottom throbbed, and every shower I took, I was shitting blood. Blood!!!"
She swatted at his arm playfully. No real force behind it, but Yuchan let go of her neck more easily than he thought possible—absurd, even to him.
"The more I see you, the more I get why she dumped you. What kind of guy comes on that strong to a girl who confessed to him?"
Seohae kept teasing, buying his story about breaking up with his girlfriend and traveling alone. She'd always used it as an excuse to poke at him. Her attitude made it seem like she was resetting everything to normal. Only Yuchan felt the jarring dissonance with her everyday act. He wasn't about to get swept up and play along.
He tossed out a deliberate jab. "So you came for another round?"
Her sharp kick landed right on cue. Her dress skirt fluttered in the summer breeze, and her leg shot straight through, nailing him square in the solar plexus.
"Kyaa!"
Seohae crumpled spectacularly under her own momentum. Weight difference, muscle gap—the direct hit barely fazed Yuchan. She glared up at him even as she clutched her elbow, which had slammed hard into the ground, rolling in the dirt without missing a beat.
"Aigoogo..."
Her dazed look made his own prickly irritation seem ridiculous. Getting seriously pissed at a kid like this?
"You sure know how to talk back nasty..."
Seohae stretched out her hand like she wanted help up. When Yuchan crossed his arms and ignored it, she stood awkwardly on her own. Her pristine white dress was now smudged with green grass stains.
"So what had you all sulky and cold? Thought I'd go to the cops or something?"
She brushed off her butt and closed in on Yuchan. It hadn't been long since the ordeal, but she showed no sign of intimidation.
"I'm not reporting you. If you really wanna do it with me that bad, sex isn't off the table."
With that, Seohae grabbed his hand tight, hooking her pinky with his.
"I'll forgive everything, pretend it never happened. But promise me one thing."
"Pass."
Seohae sighed heavily and stomped his shin. It didn't hurt much. If anything, she limped oddly as she planted her foot back down.
"Promise."
Her eyebrows twitched, hiding the pain, but her expression was dead serious.
"Spit it out."
This wasn't the first time he'd indulged her whims.
"If I die, and you're there with me... you have to smile. No sad faces, ever."
"Think I'd bat an eye if you kicked it?"
Even his harsh words made her smile in relief.
"Then we're good."
Saying the same dumb thing.
Was Seohae really the angelic type from first impressions? Not quite. She often got snippy over nothing and occasionally blew up. Fighting illness in that tiny body had piled up mental fatigue... or so Yuchan figured. Looking back, the trigger for their fight really was trivial. After their awkward makeup, Yuchan headed to the lighthouse as usual. The difference now? Seohae dropped by the camper more often. And whenever she did, she ended up in his arms without fail.
"Quit smoking already, mister. You smell like a lonely bachelor. Secondhand smoke's bad for you too."
As always, he lit up, and Seohae—who'd never cared before—protested.
Weird that she'd suddenly pipe up after all this time. He threw back a half-hearted counter.
"Cigarettes are my one vice. Without 'em, I'd drop dead."
From nicotine withdrawal, sure. His answer didn't convince even himself, let alone her.
"Wow, I found this spot first, and you're this shameless. That joke sucked, you know?"
"Wasn't joking, kiddo."
He flicked the lighter, inhaling deep on the white smoke. Years of habit wouldn't change overnight. Besides, Yuchan had zero desire to quit. For a man attached to so little, cigarettes were a rare exception. He was confident he'd pick a pack of Marlboro Reds over a lifetime of quitting—followed by hanging.
"Stop calling me kiddo."
"What else you call a kiddo?"
Seohae mumbled reluctantly.
"...I'm not short."
"Then what?"
"Just small-boned."
"Same difference. Why you so high-maintenance? Hit it a few times and now you act like my girlfriend?"
Seohae's face flushed beet red. Her ears burned too—she was seriously worked up. She was used to baring it all in bed, but words like that outside? No immunity.
"Thought we were girlfriend material... Doesn't sex make you lovers...?"
Her face hardened like a high schooler realizing her memorized "facts" were wrong. Sex equals lovers... Like a kid thinking hand-holding means dating.
"Nah. Sit tight. Even if you were my girlfriend, you got no right to meddle."
"That's not the point!"
Her voice sharpened like thorns— a tone he'd never heard. He had no clue why. She'd started it, picking at his nerves, and now she was mad?
"You hate the smell? Change clothes, mouth spray. Still bugs you, come back in two hours."
"That's not it!"
"Then what?"
"Your health! Two packs a day? You're sacrificing to lung cancer!"
What irked Yuchan was her pushy control-freak vibe.
"Worry about your own health if you got time. I'll outlive you even smoking this shit."
Seohae staggered back like she'd taken a hit to the head. He'd crossed the line, but the words were out—like spilled water.
"You...!"
She bowed her head.
"Ugh, fine! Do whatever! I'm out!! Go!!!"
She shoved his chest with her small hands, pushing him toward the lighthouse. Stubborn tears welled but didn't fall—that was her. The push wasn't strong, but he let himself get shoved out.
Chased from the lighthouse, the camper was his only spot. Seohae would wander back eventually. He figured he'd discipline her properly in bed this time. He didn't smoke. Not some big mood shift. He didn't think he'd done much wrong, nor plan to quit. Just didn't feel like it. Maybe his mouth felt extra bitter.
"What a pain."
He muttered to himself, leaning on the sofa back. Leaving a rude slave unchecked like this? First time since high school. Back then, he was clueless and clumsy, barely playing master. This felt even dumber, more awkward. The usual quiet routine dragged on. He yawned at the boredom, closing his eyes softly.