I Don't Like <em>Half Half Island</em> Either, You Know (2)
After pouring out all the emotions we'd been holding back, we caught our breath, sinking into our chairs. We weren't done talking—not by a long shot. But we both needed a moment to let the tension simmer down a bit.
"Hoo..."
"... "
"Um... about what I said earlier..."
"Shut it. Be quiet."
"Uh, y-yeah..."
I'd accidentally thrown some pretty embarrassing lines at Do Ha-min myself. 'Scrubbing with cleansing tissues wipes it right off.'
While the silence cooled our heated feelings, I erased the graffiti he'd scribbled on my forehead. Since it was done with an oil-based permanent marker, cleansing tissues for makeup removal handled it without much fuss. If it'd been spray paint graffiti on a university wall, I'd have been stuck with it like some slave's brand. And the owner of that brand? Do Ha-min, I suppose. Might actually be a boon for the real Ban Do-young.
"How's that? All gone?"
I showed him my forehead, checking if the scribble was completely vanished.
"Ah... there's a bit left at the edge. Up on your forehead."
"Then you wipe it off."
"Uh, okay. Give me the tissue. I'll do it."
"Gently now. No putting strength into it like before—that hurt."
"I-I know. I'll be super careful."
"Wipe it like you're polishing your one-and-only treasure. With care. You know how much this face is worth? It's the kind that draws in readers just from the cover art."
"I-I'm wiping it, so stop moving your face while talking. Makes it hard."
Ever since possessing Ban Do-young's body, I'd picked up the basics of makeup to play the heroine convincingly. It was essential for maximizing overlap in conversations with Sa-hyung and Hye-rang, too. Of course, with such a flawless original canvas, basic techniques were enough to earn me the title of Bulsago Middle goddess—no, wait, now it's Bulsago High goddess—without breaking a sweat.
I could've wiped the forehead scribble myself in front of a mirror way faster, like removing makeup. But right now, I deliberately relied on his eyes and hands instead. He needed the chance to erase his own mess. Otherwise, he'd just bottle up that guilt and responsibility, stewing in frustration all over again.
"Th-this is different from regular wet wipes, huh? The smell, the texture..."
"Cleansing tissues. Remember that—you'll find 'em handy someday."
"Wh-what would a guy like me who doesn't do makeup ever use these for?"
"Oh, you'll see. When you're in the army scrubbing off camouflage cream."
"Ar-army...?"
The word "army" hit, and cold sweat beaded on Do Ha-min's face as he wiped. Fair enough—at our age, it starts hitting with real weight.
"Kekeke, scaredy-cat?"
"Wh-who's scared?"
"Don't worry. When you enlist, I'll pack you full of cleansing tissues and essentials to send off with you."
"N-no thanks... By then, Korea'll probably be unified anyway..."
"Heh, I used to think that too."
"Wh-why the sudden gloomy face?"
"Nothing. Keep wiping."
"...Y-yeah."
Do Ha-min worked away at the traces with hands oversized for his scrawny frame. Big palms, but his touch on my forehead felt more delicate than clumsy. I could sense him putting real effort into controlling his strength.
"Phew... looks clean now."
"Lemme see."
While he worked, I pulled out the hand mirror I'd stashed in my inner pocket and checked my forehead. The tic-tac-toe tag that'd trailed me like a mobster's label was gone, leaving my usual pretty forehead intact.
"Hm, back to perfect. Good job, Do Ha-min Cleaning Service."
"Even if you say it like some dry cleaner... uh, anyway, you cooled off a bit...?"
"Since you worked so hard at it, I'll let it slide this time. Like you said... partly my own fault."
"Phew... thank god."
"By the way, Do Ha-min. Staring at my face, you were fantasizing about stuff like this, huh? Someday I'll defile that forehead with my lucky Sharpie—it's basically a kiss, kehehehe..."
"N-no, that's not...!"
"Hmm... really?"
"I-I already did it, so it'll sound like an excuse, but... really, no."
Face flushing, but he couldn't raise his voice. He knew he had his own sins to atone for—no room for fierce resistance. Not bad. Mutual fault. From now on, I can let his teases or provocations slide once or twice. Anyone who's pranked or slipped up with me once won't snap back at my jokes as fiercely. Even I knew n:0 couldn't last forever. One-sided teasing wouldn't push things forward. So I'd planned to play along once. But who knew he'd land such an unexpected haymaker.
I admit it, Do Ha-min. That point you just scored? No handicap—pure skill victory.
But 'today'? No more points from me.
Why? -Bzzz...!
'Today' just ended.
"Vibration? Phone call...? This late?"
"Nah, alarm. Midnight alert. Set it up earlier."
"Oh, gotcha... Huh?"
Do Ha-min's dazed face went slack, his grip loosening. The balled-up cleansing tissue he'd been holding for the trash fluttered to the floor.
"Why an alarm at midnight...? Wait, more importantly—it's midnight now...? 00:00? But the wall clock passed 12 earlier, right?"
He jammed his face to the veranda window, peering at the clock atop my closet. As he'd checked before, it showed past 12—12:20, even.
"Yeah... 12:20."
"My room clock runs 20 minutes fast."
"...Huh?"
Do Ha-min, who'd only eyed the closet clock, sensed something off. He flung open the veranda door and stepped inside.
"Phone... oh, right, low battery earlier—on the fast charger."
He yanked the cable from the desk charger and checked the time in a panic.
[20xx/04/01/Saturday]
[AM 00:00]
"00:00... April 1st..."
His phone, plugged in before the Zero Lime game due to low battery, confirmed it precisely: 00:00—the 'real' April 1st, post-date-change.
"I-it really is midnight... which means..."
"Ta-da! The shocking truth revealed! From now on, this is the real April Fool's!"
"Real April Fool's...? Th-then what about the Zero Lime game? You said it was only for April Fool's, and I told you I liked you..."
"It becomes a truth untouched by April Fool's grace...?"
"Aaaah..."
Do Ha-min's legs buckled, and he plopped down right there. Blood rushed straight to his head—all of it—turning his face beet-red even in the dim, unlit room.
"Y-you knew the closet clock was 20 minutes fast from the start, but told me it was 12...! You knew everything, didn't you!"
Face crimson, eyes welling, he yelled at me with strained effort.
"Nope, no clue. Total coincidence."
I raised both hands, shaking my head innocently. Of course I knew. Just flipped it for April Fool's.
"Anyway, heard that confession loud and clear, Do Ha-min? Bold as brass on a non-April Fool's day—our Do Ha-min's got guts."
"No... that was! I thought it was April Fool's, so...! Not serious!"
"Oh, Do Ha-min. 'Real April Fool's' and lies just flow like water."
"I said no! I don't like you...!"
"Fact: that's an April Fool's lie too."
"It's true...! I don't like Half Half Island either, you know!"
Whoa, if this weren't just a webtoon but an animated one, that line would've launched the title logo skyward with a boom! I glanced up at the night sky just in case, but sadly, no effects.
"It's true... Half Half Island... I don't like it... Half Half Island..."
Slumped on the floor, Do Ha-min mumbled it like a candle flickering out in the wind.
"Yeah, yeah, got it. Your face is way too red. Put some strength in those legs and stand up."
"...I-I can get up myself. Don't touch me."
He swatted my hand away, braced a fist on the ground, and barely straightened his legs.
"Wanna step out for some air? Cool your face."
"...Okay."
I suggested a walk. He wouldn't meet my eyes, but nodded at the fresh air idea.
"...But where to?"
"Cherry blossom path your mom texted about. There's one right behind our house."
"Oh... yeah, saw it from the veranda. But why there?"
"You know the meaning of cherry blossoms?"
"...Kinda. Mom loves flowers. Purity, I think."
"Yup. Virgin and all that."
"Y-you always gotta phrase it like...!"
"Purity? That's totally you and me."