It was during that summer that Taekwoon broke the news to Wonshik that he would go to college 400 miles from their hometown.

He had known he would want to attend that specific college since February that year, but he had never told Wonshik until the middle of August, a week before he was about to move his stuff there.

They were out on the playground, Wonshik sitting on one of the swings that was really only a wooden board suspended from a metallic frame by two chains, leaning back until the board was still in balance, looking at the scenery upside down. Taekwoon was sitting in the sand at the bottom of the jungle gym, tearing a blade of grass into pieces while Wonshik’s horrible underground hiphop music was blasting from his phone.

“Wonshik-ah,” Taekwoon called after the long silence in their conversation that should not have been awkward, and it probably hadn’t been to Wonshik, but as Taekwoon was building up his speech, it had eventually become unbearable to him.

“Hm?”

Wonshik sat up in the swing, closing his eyes for a moment, probably to clear his head after too much blood had flowed into it. He stood up and sat down next to Taekwoon.

“I’m going away,” Taekwoon said, eyeing the last piece of the grass blade between his fingers.

“Home?” Wonshik asked in a tone that suggested he only hoped ‘home’ was what Taekwoon referred to. Taekwoon felt upset by the doubtful undertone of Wonshik’s question, but he tried not to show it.

“No,” Taekwoon replied, twirling the grass around. “I’m going away in September. For college.”

“But…” Wonshik searched Taekwoon’s eyes, only finding that Taekwoon had no intention of looking up at him. “You said you wouldn’t go to college yet. You said you’d stay and look for a job and–“

“I lied.”

“I noticed,” Wonshik scoffed, throwing away a tiny pebble. “Why did you? Why was it good for you to keep it a secret for ing months?”

Taekwoon didn’t reply. He tucked the grass blade away, sprinkling sand on it, hiding it under the grains. He thought it would be safe there–no one would disturb and tear it into pieces ever again, and it could stay there peacefully; broken but protected by the sand.

Wonshik let out a deep, frustrated sigh.

“So where are you going?” he asked. “Is it far away?”

Taekwoon nodded.

“I’ll come back, though,” he said quietly.

“When?”

“Once every month. Probably.”

“Probably,” Wonshik echoed with a small, sarcastic laugh.

Taekwoon finally looked up. Wonshik’s eyes were glassy as he watched the sunset behind the buildings, but his face reflected pain, and Taekwoon felt like invisible hands were grabbing his throat, trying to asphyxiate him, making it difficult to breathe.

“Are you angry?” Taekwoon asked, almost choking on the words.

“Angry? No.” Wonshik turned his head towards his best friend, a sad, fake smile playing on his lips. “I’m disappointed. Not in you–in myself, because I thought I knew you enough to think that you wouldn’t hide things from me.”

Taekwoon didn’t know what to say. There were half-formed thoughts floating around in his mind: he wanted Wonshik to know that he hadn’t wanted to leave him; that it had all been for Wonshik’s sake, because Taekwoon had known he would react like this, thinking Taekwoon didn’t care about him enough not to leave him–but they all sounded like selfish excuses, so he stayed quiet. Besides, there was another thing, the real reason why Taekwoon had decided that he would go somewhere far away, but he didn’t even dare think it through, let alone telling Wonshik.

It would go away, it would disappear, and everything would go back to normal if Taekwoon got some fresh air somewhere Wonshik wasn’t around.

At least, that was what Taekwoon thought, and that was why he didn’t reach up to grab Wonshik’s wrist to hold him back when Wonshik bade him goodbye for a longer time than either of them thought.