"Hey Jiyong, what do you think of that kid Seunghyun coming back to school again?" 
"I heard he got in a fight with him the other day."
"That Seunghyun guy is a lot bigger, I bet our Jiyong lost."
"No way, have you seen that guy? He probably couldn't even--"
"Hey, Jiyong, are you listening?"

No, Jiyong wanted to say as he scuffed his shoe along the sidewalk, hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground. The truth was that he didn't really know what to think of that guy showing up again, like he'd never even been gone to begin with and just as silent about himself as he always was. After all, they weren't exactly friends. It wasn't like he was going to be happy that he'd returned. In fact, Jiyong was almost certain that he hated him, so he felt like he should have been mad to see him again. Angry wasn't quite the right word though... he thought maybe he felt more bewildered more than anything. "Who are you talking about?" he finally retorted, glancing up at the group of boys standing next to him as he pushed off of the wall he'd been leaning against and started to walk away. "I don't care."

They all mumbled behind him but did not follow, so he set off in the direction of the train station. He couldn't afford to get to his training any later than he already would, even though the warm summer weather made him drowsy and humid beneath the white shirt and tie of his school uniform, made him wish he could've gone home instead. But Youngbae was waiting for him, he knew, and that made him feel too guilty to give in to the temptation of disappearing into his air conditioned bedroom. 

When Jiyong got there, however, he worked completely on autopilot. They changed into the clothes that they'd crammed into one of the lockers before they cleaned the practice room, practiced, watched the elder artists and trainees practice, and then picked up the room again after it had been left messy. Jiyong's mind was completely elsewhere for the whole thing, as well, too preoccupied with trying to figure out this Seunghyun guy's motive. 

He hated him. He hated that he was so quiet and that it made Jiyong burn with ferocious anger when time and time again he couldn't dig up any real solid dirt on him. He hated that he made him feel inferior without even trying. He hated that he dressed better. He hated that he had a more attractive face. He hated that he was cooler and that he obviously knew it; Jiyong could tell he knew it just from the look in that 's eyes. He hated that he wouldn't even grace him with a reaction whenever Jiyong tried to pick a fight with him. He hated that he mysteriously up and disappeared one day without a word and made him think about him and wonder where the he went. He hated that he couldn't figure out if he was upset or happy that he'd come back. 

He hated that he was... better. 
He hated that he was winning their silent contest.  

Just the very thought turned his hands to fists, his knuckles turning white and remaining that way until he'd scrubbed the whole floor, newspapers wrinkled into a hard ball in his palm. When the two of them had finished cleaning it was nearly midnight, and he grabbed his clothes bag and left as fast as a tornado without much of a proper goodbye, determined to outrun his anger on the way to catch his train home. It worked, too; the dying hum of cicadas and the falling temperature helping him to cool off by the time he got there, and he straightened his clothes as he stood waiting for the train, huffing his bangs out of his eyes.

"What are you doing wearing those kinds of clothes?" he heard a politely-toned voice ask from somewhere a distance behind him. Jiyong jumped slightly, not having really noticed anyone when he walked up, and then nearly fell over onto the train tracks in shock when he saw that the gravelly sounding words belonged to the devil himself, Seunghyun, who had been sitting at the benches all along when he'd walked up. He, too, visibly flinched at the sudden reaction his small question had elicited. 

Jiyong was quick to compose himself, turning towards Seunghyun with a sharp glance. The question on his tongue came blurting out before he could even think about it, demanding at him with a blunt, "where have you been?" When he heard it come out of his mouth, though, he stiffened, turning his back to him and staring at his shoes to try to ignore the burn of red embarrassment that he felt creeping up the back of his neck to his ears. 

"... away..." came the other boy's carefully worded, almost a little awkwardly-stated reply, obviously a little confused and also not really eager to answer his question. Jiyong scowled the ugliest scowl he could muster at the ground, gears turning in his mind as the silence stretched on. To his (surprising) relief Seunghyun spoke again, much more carefully this time. 

"So... you like rap too, right? Or... you're, like, training to be a rapper or... whatever..." Jiyong scowled more and more the more he talked, wanting to yell at him. Was he talking like that because he thought he was stupid or something? Like he wouldn't be able to understand him if he spoke at a faster rate than one word per hour? "Um... anyway, have you ever been to a rap battle?" 

"No," Jiyong retorted bluntly, lifting his head up and glaring out into the darkness. He could hear the train in the distance and his foot began to tap in impatience, hoping that it would come soon so that he could tell this guy to off into absolutely eternity and then make his escape. Still, Seunghyun continued, fumbling with his words even more than he had before. "Oh. Well... I mean, I've seen you on the TV before so you're probably busy with some movie or something... there's one this weekend and it'd be cool if you could come." 

"Huh?" Jiyong asked, still a little too frigid even though he was considerably shocked that this guy wasn't trying to mop the floor with his pride, still convinced that it was part of some mean joke. He shot a look over his shoulder, eying the other with caution. Seunghyun met his eyes for a minute, shooting him a smile that was as crooked as a dog's hind leg and just as awkward as one too, though hardly dishonest, before looking away again. Was this guy being nice? Jiyong continued to stare at him in disbelief, not sure if he was being honest or trying to set him up for some kind of a challenge. 

"... I mean, only if you want to..." 

"Fine. I'll go to your stupid little thugfest, for sure," Jiyong snapped as the train came up with a sighing squeal of brakes, not even looking back to say goodbye before he stepped onto the train and took a seat with his back to the window. (That is, of course, ignoring the fact that he looked back once the train had started off to watch the sight of the other boy, still sitting on the benches where he found him, fade into the dark night.) 

If it was a challenge, then he would gladly accept it. 
He wouldn't let Seunghyun win their competition any longer.