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“Yes, but we don’t have to always be talking about it,” Somin’s mother said, with a wink to Junu.

He laughed and wondered why the daughter had not inherited the mother’s good humor.

“Well, where can we help?” Changwan asked, placing the tray of coffees on the living room table.

“Why don’t you pack up the living room?” Somin’s mothersaid. With a grunt of disgust, Somin retreated back into the kitchen. Soon Junu heard the angry clatter of dishes.

“Wrap everything well,” Somin’s mother said before disappearing down the hall again.

Junu looked around at the knickknack-filled space. It would take a while to make sure everything was put away with care. He wondered if he was in over his head. Maybe it had been a mistake to volunteer for this. He could just leave, but Junu always kept his word. And if he said he was here to help, he was going to help. Even if the August heat was somehow worse in here than it was outside.

As Changwan took frames off the shelf, Junu started wrapping them in old newspapers. He wasn’t sure whether he was doing a good job or not, but he figured the more padding the better.

“Maybe that’s too much newspaper, Hyeong?” Changwan said.

“Really?” Junu asked, crossing his arms and studying the box that was probably 70 percent newspaper and only 30 percent actual things.

“Yeah, you might be great at strategizing video game battles, but I think we’ve failed at packing.” Changwan frowned, and it made his too-big nose scrunch.

“Well, being good at packing is only a required life skill if your job is a mover,” Junu said. “And I doubt any romantic pursuits will care if you can wrap frames in the right amount of newspaper. Make a note of that, Changwan-ah.”

Just as he said it, Somin stomped out of the kitchen. “Don’t take dating advice from him, unless you want to get slapped.”

Junu held a hand over his heart. “Lee Somin, that hurts. I get slapped only like fifteen percent of the time. I swear.”

Changwan laughed and earned a glare from Somin.

She looked down at their half-packed box. “You two are horrible at this.”

“Are you out here to check up on us?” Junu asked.

“No, I needed more tape.” She picked up the roll of packing tape as if that were proof enough. “But I’m glad I came out here. If you keep going at this rate, you’ll use ten boxes for one bookshelf. Maybe you should wash the dishes instead.”

“I don’t really like doing dishes, they make my hands all pruney...” Changwan trailed off as Somin sent him a pointed look. “But then again, that’s what they make dishwashing gloves for.” He scurried into the kitchen like a frightened rabbit.

Somin had started unwrapping the frames and laying them on the table when Junu knelt beside her. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Dishes is a one-man job. I figured you just wanted an excuse to be alone with me,” Junu said, wiggling his brows.

“Fine, it’s probably better than letting you fill Changwan’s brain with your ridiculous advice. Why are you so obsessed with the idea of turning him into a clone of you, anyway?”

“Is that so bad?” He held up a hand before she could answer. “Never mind, I know already. To you, that would be a fate worse than death.”

She carefully folded the paper around the delicate frames before stacking them in the box. “Well, I wasn’t going to be quite so extreme, but yes. Let Changwan be his own person. He’s nothing like you.”

At that Junu almost laughed, but he knew Somin wouldn’tget the humor in what she said. And Junu wasn’t about to give up any secrets from his past. If you asked Junu, the past was behind them for a reason.

Instead, he shrugged. “I just want to give him some more confidence. He’s a smart boy; he can be anything he wants if he puts his mind to it.”

“You don’t know anything about Changwan.” Somin’s voice became harsh. The voice she got when she was being protective of her friends. Junu didn’t know why it bothered him, except that the person she was protecting them from was so often Junu.

“Changwan and I are friends.” It came out a bit more defensive than Junu had intended.

Somin let out a snort. “You’re too selfish to have any friends.”

That stung, and Junu was about to give a sharp retort when Somin’s mother walked back in, extra boxes in her arms. “Found these in the back room, figured we could use them out here.”

Somin jumped up to help her mother with the pile. Junu was debating whether to stick out his tongue at Somin’s back when her eyes shot to him, an unspoken warning sharp in her brown irises. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought her a gwishin or other evil spirit descended on him as some kind of curse.