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Chapter 12

Today, too, Hae-ju was busily carrying trays in and out of the kitchen at the tteokbokki restaurant. At the owner's nod, she glanced toward the dining hall. In a corner sat a man dressed in a luxurious wool coat—out of place in a humble snack bar near the school—looking around the room.

Hae-ju picked up a menu and approached him. As she drew closer, she noticed a bandage hiding a wound on his forehead, which didn't match his elegant coat.

"What can I—"

She couldn't finish her question. The familiar face smiled brightly at her in greeting.

"Long time no see. Kang Hae-ju?"

Hae-ju looked at the man who called her by that nickname with suspicion, then vaguely recalled his face and name. An embarrassed expression crossed her face.

"Kim... Kyu-hong?"

"Wow! You remember my name? I'm honored."

She couldn't forget his name. He had been a taekwondo club member alongside Seok-eon—a rival of sorts.

Will you go out with me?

She remembered him. Unlike Seok-eon, he had never been diligent in either sports or studies. And she remembered his countless scandals with female students.

On the day he'd unilaterally confessed, declaring they would date regardless of her opinion, Kyu-hong had faced Seok-eon in the national championship finals and injured his shoulder. Unable to continue taekwondo, he'd eventually dropped out.

"Are you going to order?"

Emerging from old memories, Hae-ju focused on the task at hand.

"Is Lee Seok-eon doing well?"

At the familiar name, Hae-ju froze. She knew the intent behind these probing questions. With a look of incomprehension, she asked back, "Why are you asking me that?"

At her stern expression, Kyu-hong leaned back and tilted his head as if she were the one being unreasonable. "Still the same. You've lived in the same house for nearly ten years—isn't it more ridiculous that you act so distant? Don't tell me you're all cold in front of others but something else behind closed doors?"

Setting down the small menu she'd been holding, Hae-ju replied firmly, "It looks like you haven't decided yet. Let me know when you have—I'll be back."

She coldly finished and turned away. Just then, new customers entered.

"Welcome."

Hae-ju greeted them politely. Kyu-hong watched her with interest, then rose from his seat as if he'd accomplished his purpose and left the restaurant. Pretending to take orders at another table, Hae-ju silently watched Kyu-hong's retreating back.

Outside, a group waited for him in front of a black sedan. Kyu-hong casually climbed into the car they held open for him and drove away.

---

After school, Seok-eon relentlessly kicked the punching bag suspended from the gym ceiling. All the taekwondo club members had rushed off to the snack bar for dinner, but Seok-eon deliberately chose not to join them.

After non-stop roundhouse kicks, Seok-eon dropped to his knees and breathed heavily. He had been flying around without rest for thirty minutes and couldn't move a single finger anymore.

He tore off his sweat-soaked headgear and collapsed onto the mat. His ragged breathing gradually dissipated around his lips. The chilly air quickly turned his hot sweat into cold droplets.

'Yes, I'll be a faithful debtor. So I'll leave this tiresome, steep alley and work hard to earn money.'

The voice of Kang Hae-ju, who had stubbornly refused to back down, lingered in his ears all night.

'Kang Hae-ju is a liar.'

Seok-eon didn't believe the words she'd spoken with such conviction, eyes closed. Though her stubborn behavior irritated him, he had no intention of correcting her.

Even when he pretended indifference, all his nerves had been wired to twelve-year-old Kang Hae-ju from the very start.

Slowly closing his eyes, Seok-eon recalled the first day he'd seen Kang Hae-ju. The day he first saw the moving truck on the steep slope—a child who reminded him of the lush red roses blooming on the green gate.

Even the cool sip of sugar water she'd handed him. The humid wind that tickled his throat in the sweltering heat, and the deafening cicada cries of that day.

From that day on, Seok-eon's eyes had always sought Kang Hae-ju. Whenever he secretly watched her, he couldn't tear his gaze away from her pale, soft skin. Yet that child, unlike others her age, silently and calmly did what needed to be done.

She would casually support her drunken father and effortlessly soothe the cranky old woman next door—earning the affectionate title "our Hae-ju."

Though he sometimes disliked how she acted like an older sister, Seok-eon liked Hae-ju. Every time she tucked her long hair behind her ear with an air of annoyance, cherry blossoms danced unbidden in the young boy's heart.

'Seok-eon, your mother wants to adopt Hae-ju.'

Seok-eon, who had been exhaling tired breaths, snapped his eyes open. The fragments that had burst from the lush green memories mercilessly pulled him back to reality. The hot summer days had vanished, and only the cold white gym ceiling looked down at him.

'Mother, besides me, who else do you have!'

After kicking over the washbasin and running out of the house, Seok-eon had always asked himself: why hadn't he accepted his mother's proposal that day?

His mother's meddlesome nature—"kindness is a disease," they said—was nothing new. It had only worsened after his father passed away.

Still, Seok-eon didn't dislike his mother's meddling. He knew better than anyone that all her love surrounded him.

Yet those conflicting emotions always left the boy confused. The peak of that confusion was the moment his mother proposed adopting Hae-ju—of all people, Hae-ju.

In the end, his frustration and anger, with no place to go, had turned toward Kang Hae-ju. Contrary to the truth buried deep inside him. So he too, pretending indifference to her, was a liar.

"Just as I thought, Lee Seok-eon is different. With the national team trials coming up, you're the only one skipping meals to practice."

At the unexpected voice, Seok-eon looked up. A man in a black coat—not a school uniform—leaned against the wall, smiling. Seok-eon rose and searched through countless memories to recall his name.

Kim Kyu-hong.

He had been a fellow taekwondo club member. After being soundly defeated by Seok-eon in a match during his first year of high school, Kyu-hong had quit sports and left school.

Soon after, word spread that he had switched to mixed martial arts and was competing in domestic and international third-tier leagues. Others said he'd joined a famous gang in Gangnam.

As Seok-eon slowly stood, Kyu-hong walked right up to him. The wound on his forehead, covered with multiple bandages, looked fresh.

"Been well?"

Kyu-hong's bright smile read more like a bluff to hide the wound on his forehead. At his question, Seok-eon shrugged. "As you can see."

"I heard the national team trials are coming up soon."

With his hands in his slacks pockets, Kyu-hong circled Seok-eon, surveying the gym that held his own memories. Seok-eon silently regarded the uninvited intruder.

"National team... Isn't that a bit too sacred for the guy who shattered his friend's shoulder?"

Despite the blatant provocation, Seok-eon laughed softly, as if he couldn't understand, and asked, "Were we friends?"

At Seok-eon's dismissive tone, Kyu-hong's expression hardened and he stepped closer, close enough to hear each other's breath. Looking down at Kyu-hong, who approached as if ready to head-butt him, Seok-eon asked casually, "So, what's your business?"

The tense, explosive moment passed as quickly as it came. Kyu-hong let out a hearty laugh and patted Seok-eon's shoulder as if brushing off dust.

"Business talk right away—so cold."

He then made a gesture of counting bills with his right fingers.

"I've made some money because of you, hyung."

Unlike their earlier confrontation, Kyu-hong stood on Seok-eon's right and draped an arm over his shoulder. Then, like a sales king, he whispered, "Let's go out. I'll buy you something amazing to eat."

Excessive friendliness from an enemy presupposes a trap. Seeing through Kyu-hong's transparent bluster, Seok-eon's mind grew cold instead. No reason to go with him came to mind.

"Not hungry."

At Seok-eon's casual dismissal, the smile slowly faded from Kyu-hong's face. But he shrugged and stepped closer, whispering low, "Cold bastard. You really know how to embarrass people. Fine, let's get straight to the point. There's someone who wants to meet you."

"...Me? Who?"

"Go and you'll see."

"...Why should I?"

At Seok-eon's unmoved response, Kyu-hong shook his head in frustration and vented, "So frustrating. Hey, what changes if you become a national team member? Coach? Professor? That's all a joke. A man's life is money and women. Out there, there's an incredibly dazzling and amazing world. Isn't it a damn waste for a guy like you to rot in this hillside village?"

"..."

Seok-eon only frowned at Kyu-hong's temptation. Like a wary animal sensing a trap, he carefully searched for his opponent's weakness. Kyu-hong, growing uneasy, frowned. He'd expected it wouldn't be easy, but Seok-eon's vigilance was sharper than imagined.

'Find a replacement for yourself.'

Ji-man's threat surfaced, and impatience took over. Still, Kyu-hong concealed his anxiety and, as a last resort, touched on Seok-eon's weak point.

"Does she know... why you broke my shoulder?"

For the first time, Seok-eon's expressionless gaze turned coldly toward Kyu-hong.

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