Minsons (August apples)

Ah, summer... In the village, in the evening on the street, under the singing of mosquitoes.

Lee Minho turned out to be the student who decided to go to his grandmother's village for the summer. But she and her husband decided to leave their grandson alone and head for the city.

It was hot, terribly hot for August, the air felt like it was burning his nose and lungs. The poor boy tried to read at least a chapter of the book he'd borrowed as a substitute for the internet, but the heat seemed to have melted his brain, as Minho couldn't concentrate on the text.

A rustling sound and a soft curse near the fence suddenly jolt him from his reading. Then, a brazen hand reaches for an apple on the lowest branch. Fingers as dexterous as a child's grasp the red apple tightly and yank so hard that the unfortunate branch cracks treacherously and pitifully. Minho lowers the book onto his lap and looks at the dark crown of a head looming over the slanted fence, its owner noisily panting in the heat, apparently pressing his forehead against the green boards.

"Are you sure you're not confused?" Minho asked, surprised.

The chubby guy dropped the apple in surprise and ran away.

But it turned out the water here wasn't endless. After wandering the streets, asking around, he learned that water could only be obtained from people named Khan. When he got there, he ran into that same boy. He was irritating. Those eyes, staring into his soul. Those childish cheeks... But there was nothing he could do; he needed water. And all those buckets were heavy.

“Help me carry the buckets of water to my house,” Lee asked reluctantly, looking at the chubby guy.