You Do It?
From earliest childhood, Kim Hyeongmin had always been with Kang Hyeona.
Back in the days when he first formed memories—kindergarten, roughly—he remembered her as a rather lively child. Now she was cold, blunt, closed off. That was the person Kang Hyeona had become. At least, that was how Kim Hyeongmin knew her.
When had he first started feeling something for her? Truthfully, he barely understood what fondness even meant. He had never known love to begin with.
Twenty years old. Standards differed from person to person, but it was the age the nation officially recognized as adulthood—old enough to possess one's own will and values. Of those twenty years, more than twelve had been spent alongside Kang Hyeona.
Some people put it this way: Kang Hyeona was Kim Hyeongmin's dog. Nothing more than a loyal servant, a tool that existed to obey. His own mother had said as much.
Why? We're friends.
Kim Hyeongmin had held those words on his tongue and never let them out. He knew the truth better than anyone. And he knew exactly what saying it aloud would do to Kang Hyeona.
So he followed instinct instead.
It had happened in the second grade of elementary school. He had been nine—an age when you still sniffled through your nose and ate street snacks outside the school gates. An age when you still didn't fully understand what "background" meant. Or rather, the age when that understanding first began to take root.
At some elementary school in Seoul whose name he no longer remembered, a girl had hit him. Kim Hyeongmin's temperament had always been nasty, his pride fierce. From childhood, far more things had gone his way than not—so it wasn't strange. But being struck by someone? That was a first.
Especially given the hierarchy his mother had always stressed. In a Republic of Korea that preached equality under heaven, the words of a mother who stood high in that hierarchy carried enormous weight. In other words, a student of lower standing had dared to harm him. A commoner striking a noble?
He never said it outright. But that conviction ran thick through every habit and gesture he made.
Back to the moment. Kim Hyeongmin, struck across the face. The one who stepped forward was Kang Hyeona. She moved out in front of him without expression—like a knight from a fairy tale. There was no clanking plate armor, but her stride carried absolute certainty. There was no sword or spear to cut the enemy down, but her fists and her will were harder than anything.
What followed was a blur. It was only a fight between nine-year-olds, yet blood was spilled and a tooth cracked. A dog that bites the one who touches its master is only doing its duty—and deserves its reward. As he remembered it, Kang Hyeona had been praised. There had been no real social fallout either. Her mother was a prosecutor, after all. No one was going to wage a legal battle against a prosecutor of that stature. A fat settlement was enough to satisfy everyone involved.
That was when it started, he thought. The quiet place in his heart where he kept Kang Hyeona. The desire to give his heart to someone who stood beneath him. To Kim Hyeongmin, that was what she was—something beyond a simple servant and master. Someone he wanted at his side someday.
But the world did not turn the way he wished. No matter how he tried to win her heart, a boy with money and power could not move the feelings of the one person he liked. Maybe that was what made it more entertaining. The situation never changed, the relationship never shifted—and to Kim Hyeongmin, that thrill was its own kind of pleasure.
But right now, Kim Hyeongmin felt a humiliation deeper than anything he had ever known.
Of course he did. The woman he had believed was his—who would become his—was walking away, heading out there, far from him.
Dull noises rose from the stairwell. Sexual harassment. Confrontation. Emotions boiling over, the situation twisting into something complicated. And in the middle of it all, Kim Hyeongmin saw the truth.
The knight who had once stepped forward for him with that indifferent face was now moving as if possessed—eyes full of worry and feeling. That expression, that behavior, seemed to reduce everything between them to master and servant. A cold, transactional arrangement. The sheer contempt of it struck him hard.
Calm down. Calm down.
Kang Hyeona's mouth had spoken his name. The agency of the act still belonged to him. That single line yanked him back from the edge of being swallowed by emotion. He could steady himself.
Yes. He had to remain noble. Nobility demanded dignity.
And so Kim Hyeongmin had done nothing wrong. Not at school, at least. Circumstantial suspicion was one thing—but legally, outwardly, there was nothing anyone could point a finger at and call his fault. Why? Because every action had been carried out by those trash girls desperate to look tough, by the rabid little dogs dying to impress him. Their crimes. Not his. He merely smiled and spoke in soft, circling implications.
Back to the present. Kang Hyeona climbing the stairs slowly. Something in the air was different from usual. Her expression was slightly off, too. Looking at Kang Hyeona's face was what Kim Hyeongmin did more than anything else in the world—so of course he noticed first.
He knew something had changed. He simply didn't know what it meant. It only looked awkward, subtle, strange. Why that particular expression? His still-insufficient experience couldn't pin it down. His thoughts tangled. The more they did, the simpler he made them.
Han Sein, was it? It wasn't as if the boy didn't know who he was dealing with. And yet he had held his head stiff and charged straight in. If his rank had at least been high, maybe. But according to the background check, the boy was nothing—an untouchable. There was a saying about a cornered rat biting, but it was a different story when the other party wore thick leather boots and had the money to afford them.
So Kim Hyeongmin faced Han Sein with open irritation.
"Han Sein."
"...Yeah."
"From now on, come here every lunch period. Play with me."
"And if I don't want to?"
"If you don't want to..."
Ha. Unbelievable. He hadn't imagined the boy would push back even here. A glint lit Kim Hyeongmin's eyes—because this had just gotten interesting. Every student who had ever stood in this spot reacted the same way. Like Jeong Ayeong, currently on her knees beside them. Eyes down. Trembling. Unconditional submission and anxiety.
Interesting was interesting. And the fact that he disliked Han Sein remained exactly that.
"I don't usually hit guys..."
Kim Hyeongmin muttered, gaze dropping to his own nails. He crossed his fingers and tidied his hands as if casually grooming them. It was a signal.
The dog most desperate to look good in front of him stepped forward—Park Hyorin.
"It'll be gentle at first. Heh-heh."
Running hands over a boy's body was a genuine pleasure for a girl. Extremely speaking, unless the boy was someone's grandfather, any woman with a libido would like it—or at least not hate it. Park Hyorin's laugh spilled down the hallway, sticky with a desire so honest it was almost chilling.
Then Kim Hyeongmin's gaze shifted to Kang Hyeona—and in her eyes, he saw emotion. What to call it? Love? Worry? Yes. It was the look of an actor in a film. The look a hero wore when the person they loved fell into danger, into crisis.
The corner of Kim Hyeongmin's mouth twisted faintly. From the deepest place in his chest, rage came writhing up. Summarized in a single phrase:
Fucking hell.
If his lips hadn't been pressed so tightly shut, that exact line would have rung through the corridor. That honest. That direct.
Kang Hyeona had feelings for Han Sein. Kim Hyeongmin settled on that as fact. Touching a reverse scale didn't always make something explode—but as if to prove the point, a clean answer surfaced in his mind.
"Hey. Hold on."
"…?"
A smile like a pervert's. Looking only at his mouth, that was exactly how it would have felt. But his eyes were not smiling. They were colder than anything. Of course they were. The person he liked had fallen hard for another boy. Coldness was only natural.
Jeong Ayeong's body began to shake. As if she couldn't bear to watch. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor.
Kim Hyeongmin's mouth opened again. His gaze—and his finger—turned not toward Park Hyorin, but toward Kang Hyeona.
"Kang Hyeona."
"...What."
"You do it."
"......"
For more than ten years, the servant who had obeyed her master's every word without a single miss—who had carried out every order to perfection—hesitated for the first time. And asked again.
"What did you say?"
"You know. It's the first time, so keep it light."
No subject left Kim Hyeongmin's mouth. That was an unchanging fact. But his eyes turned toward Jeong Ayeong. The same way he had first tormented her—start with physical violence. Very light violence. Implicitly, he was ordering Kang Hyeona to do it.
What would the hesitating dog choose? Bite its master?
"...Fine."
Kang Hyeona's choice was obedience. It had been that way for over a decade. The relationship was far too firmly set to make room for private feelings.
But Kim Hyeongmin's eyes still found nothing to like. Kang Hyeona's face was blank, empty of expression—yet to someone who had looked at that face countless times, it looked like the saddest expression he had ever seen her wear.