Even in his second year, Hwan-young had yet to have a proper conversation with Mu-ryeong. He was in Class 3, while Mu-ryeong was in Class 7, making the physical distance between them feel even greater. He hadn’t expected to be in the same class, but he had at least thought they might end up in neighboring ones. When that unconscious thought crossed his mind, he quickly shook his head, dismissing it.

Mu-ryeong was still running around, taking on requests. The tan he had gained over the summer faded the moment winter ended, his skin turning pale again. Like some kind of molting animal—what was the point of his skin changing colors with the seasons?

"Hey, if you’re not going to walk properly, just let me carry you."

"See? Only Dad takes care of me."

"Seriously, this guy is insane…"

Maybe he had grown a bit over the break. The way he clung to his friend’s back looked slightly different from how it had in their first year. His frame seemed a little sturdier, though in Hwan-young’s eyes, he still looked ridiculously small. He had the fleeting thought that a single push might knock him over.

"Brother."