The Butterfly's Wings Come Full Circle
—Ding-dong!
"Good work today."
"Oh~ thanks. What's for dinner… kimchi stew?"
"Yep!"
"Oh, that sounds delici—"
Out of habit he lined his shoes up neatly, straightened up—and the moment he saw me, he froze solid as ice.
He didn't say a word, but his mouth hung open, his body trembled faintly, and his eyes darted everywhere, unable to settle.
He'd been like this yesterday, too. Today his behavior was just as strange.
"…You must be tired again today."
"Uh… n-no, I'm fine. Should we eat first again?"
"I'd like that. I already laid out clothes for you in the bathroom."
He wasn't looking at me—at my eyes. He was looking lower.
"Yeah. I'll eat first."
As hyung brushed past me, he ducked his head and patted at his face, as if something might be stuck there.
"Ah."
Clothes.
I hadn't changed. The knit sweater was still on, and so was the skirt…
"Ahem…"
Whatever. Food first.
"Is it because I haven't had it in so long? This is incredible."
"Hehe, right?"
"…Cough, cough."
"Eh?! What's wrong? Here, drink some water."
Why was he choking just from looking at me? Was I really so strange that he'd spit out his water?
"Ugh. It's all over your dress shirt."
A white dress shirt and a black suit—the very picture of style.
If the stain set and dried, no amount of washing would get it out, so I scrubbed at it with a towel as hard as I could.
"Ugh… these stains are so hard to get out."
"Uh. Uhh… Jiwoo. Let me do it."
"Huh? Just a second. I'm almost done."
I'd heard Daiso sold some miracle stain-remover. Maybe I should pick one up. People said it worked wonders. A thousand-won investment to banish chronic stains forever? Worth a try.
"Hnn… Jiwoo?"
"Tch… I'll stop here. This is the best I can do."
I hadn't gotten it all, but at least barely any trace remained.
…So why had hyung's face gone so red?
"Eat. It'll get cold."
"Ah… yeah. I should eat."
His voice drifted past my ears as he ate in a daze, staring at empty air as if it held something fascinating.
"Hyung, have some of this too. You like it."
"……"
I picked some up with my chopsticks and set it on his rice. At this rate he wouldn't even be able to see where the side dishes were. Maybe he really was exhausted.
"Ugh, ah… whew…"
"…?"
What on earth was that sound? Whatever it was, it seemed to work—this time he looked properly at his food and ate.
"Ahem… When did you even make namul? I heard homemade is a pain."
"I've got nothing but time. Making things like this is good for you, too."
Somehow we finished the meal, and I started clearing up. Hyung sat blankly for a moment, then seemed to come back to himself a little and loosened his tie.
"…Ah!"
"Hm?"
"Wait just a second. Hold on."
I'd almost forgotten the gift I'd bought for him.
What I was looking for sat on top of a paper bag stuffed full of clothes—a small box.
"Here. It's a present. For the month I was in the hospital, and for everything you've done for me since. That's why… I'm giving you this."
"Oh… thank you, really. Can I open it now?"
"Yes, yes! You have to open it now if you're going to use it."
He was wearing a dress shirt right this second. The timing couldn't have been better.
"Wow. The wrapping actually looks like wood."
"I bought a pretty nice one. I don't know much, but I picked something that looked good quality—soft, and stylish."
"Hmm… I wonder what it is."
Hyung carefully opened the box.
"Oh. A necktie?"
"You only have one right now, don't you? Well, there's one more, but it's all frayed and you never wear it, so I was going to put that one away in here."
I still remembered the first time we met.
The suits this hyung wore were so sharp and handsome he looked like some English gentleman strolling down the street. And to keep them that way, he'd practiced ironing like crazy.
I wanted to wear one too—but maintenance was essential. I had to learn that first. So I had. For now… it was still out of reach.
"Want me to put it on for you now?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll try it."
"Ah."
"Hm?"
I wanted to do it. I'd always wanted to fix a handsome man's tie for him as I saw him off.
"Let me try."
"Uh… okay."
I'd never actually worn a suit, but I'd practiced tying a necktie countless times. Call it longing. I desperately wanted to wear one, but I never had the chance—or a suit—so this was a kind of secondhand comfort.
"Ah… I'm really sorry, but could you lean down just a little…?"
Maybe it was selfish of me… but I still wanted to try.
A necktie almost looked like a sword, in a way. If you held the narrow blade and let it fall open, the wide part—the broadsword—really did look like the upper half of a blade.
And the name for it was "broadsword," too.
I looped my arms around and draped the tie over his neck. From hyung's perspective the broad blade sat on the right, the narrow on the left.
And then… wrap the broad blade once under the narrow one, bring it up and around so a large loop forms at the neck, lay the broad blade over it, twist, push it through the small loop you've made, pull it free, and draw the narrow blade down while sliding the knot up—
"Done."
"……"
"Hyung, is it okay?"
"Ah. Thanks."
Just as I'd imagined. Incredibly handsome.
"It looks great."
"Thanks. Never thought I'd get a gift like this from you, Jiwoo."
"Ah."
I still had to lower the collar.
"Eep—"
"Whoa, got you. You okay?"
I'd completely missed my footing. Hyung caught me at once.
"…Heh."
The hand on my shoulder was so solid it steadied me completely.
Up close, hyung's face looked as if some famous sculptor had carved it stroke by stroke—long, sweeping lashes, a sharp jaw that could have belonged to some medieval noble.
Maybe it was those broad shoulders. He hadn't been working out lately, and yet the chest already there was… se—
"Ah."
"You okay?"
"Y-yeah… I'm fine…"
What was I even thinking?
"Your face is red. Did you catch a cold or something?"
"Ah. Ahah. N-no, I was just startled. I'm really fine. You've got things to do, and—go take your bath. I'll finish clearing the table."
"Uh… okay."
I all but herded him toward the bathroom.
"…I'm losing it."
This was weird.
"I'm losing it…!!"
I still didn't get it. I was bad at studying. Don't make my feelings this complicated. They were too hard to untangle.
Tying knots, untying knots—those were the things I was worst at.
What was this heart that wouldn't stop pounding, the cold sweat in my hair, the tremor in my hands?
What on earth was going on?
Jiwoo. Don't do this.
I'm an idiot. This is behavior I can't understand.
I felt like my face might burst. I had no idea why.
"Haaah…"
For a second I thought my heart had stopped.
When Jiwoo tied my necktie, that soft, pleasant scent nearly made me pull her into my arms without thinking. Completely absorbed in the tie, not even knowing what face I was making, Jiwoo didn't react at all even as our faces drew incredibly close.
Was I just overthinking this?
And before that—Jiwoo's clothes… were so pretty.
She was just… a girl…!! She was a girl, she really was a girl…!
"Ugh… what's wrong with me…"
Something about the way she acted had changed. It was clearly similar. And yet different.
Maybe I was just being bewitched by the outward appearance.
If not bewitched, then captivated, or brainwashed, or hypnoti—no, not that.
"Hoo… hnn…"
I rinsed the heat from my body with cold water for no good reason.
My body was hot. My face was hot. My heart was still racing, pounding like mad.
When food got on my dress shirt and Jiwoo wiped it with a towel, I'd flinched, afraid she'd hear how hard my heart was beating. And when those small hands caught my shoulders to steady me, I'd caught that soft, pleasant scent all over again.
By then I was already halfway gone.
And when I caught Jiwoo as she nearly fell, she had looked so terribly fragile. Not a scrap of muscle in her arms—soft and yielding—and the hair that settled lightly over the back of my hand sent a shock through me from my hand outward, a tingle through my whole body.
But this…… couldn't be it. This was usually…
…the kind of feeling you got when you liked someone.
And Jiwoo was a guy.
"Ugh, cold."
As my thoughts started wandering further off track, I turned the faucet the other way.
Cold water in winter was more than I could take. This wasn't the army.
"Hoo."
I was a man, too.
And I had absolutely no resistance when it came to women.
But Jiwoo was a guy……
"I'm going crazy."
Every time I turned the thought over, it felt like my head was burning up.
"Uugh…!!"
My voice bounced off the bathroom tiles and came right back to me—a sound full of embarrassment, of regret for my past self.
An ordinary girl's voice. The kind that was terribly shy.
I stripped off my clothes in a heap and reached for the shower first, turning it on.
"Ah!"
I scooped the clothes back up and dropped them into a different basket.
I might have been a guy on the inside… but the outside wasn't. I had to hide the bra and those thin-looking panties among the rest of the clothes.
If hyung ever saw them… I was dead. Truly. I'd be cast out of society. I'd even put name tags on everything, so please—please let him check them.
"Hoo…"
I turned my face into the spray and tried to empty my mind.
Little by little. Little by little, I tried to let go of thoughts of hyung. As if nothing had happened. As if none of it had ever been there at all.
Until every last strand of my long hair was soaked through.
Water ran down between two soft curves, carved a valley, slipped over a smooth stomach, found another valley, and wound around my thighs on its way down.
Should I… sleep with hyung?
"…?"
When people tell themselves not to think about something, what they end up thinking about is the thought of not thinking about it. It isn't true emptiness—it's filling your head in advance with the rule that you mustn't think of it.
And even so, a strange thought had slipped out. That happened. We weren't monks, after all.
"I'm losing it."
This wasn't non-attachment. This was just affliction, wasn't it?
…Honestly, sleeping next to hyung had been kind of comfortable for me.