Chapter Text
Prologue
“Be kind,” Yeonwoo mumbled to the empty bedroom. Like a mantra. “Be kind, whenever possible. It is always possible.”
It was 2.30 a.m. on a Tuesday, which meant he had four hours of sleep after this self-reflection session. Yeonwoo didn’t mind. Meditation was something he’d learned to love besides Kyokushin Karate. Father insisted the activity was beneficial for his active brain. At first, he’d always fallen asleep midway. But after a short-term retreat to a pagoda, Yeonwoo had grasped the art of mindful breathing.
In Karate, his master had also included meditation in their training. He missed it more than ever. In the beginning and near the end of class, they’d kneel in front of each other and listen to their breathing. Inhale, then exhale. Absolute concentration, with a gentle observation. They’d let those jumbled thoughts flow freely like a river. Negative or positive thoughts, they’d all end up in the vast ocean.
He’d call it “the return to their origin.”
Yeonwoo had learned how to be non-judgemental. To observe people with only positive regards and intentions. To give them the benefit of the doubt.
For everything they did, there must be a reason.
His parents did everything, and it was for his own good.
“Be kind, whenever possible.” He opened his eyes and stared at the empty wall. “It is always possible.”
***
Ji Yeonwoo liked to read. That involved reading people. What they wanted. Why they did what they did. If he could figure them out, he’d be the winner.
But he couldn’t make sense of Seong Taehoon.
The first time they met, it was brief. Yoo Hobin had wanted to call the police on his boss, which could be troublesome for such a trivial dispute.
“Hm, you weren’t calling the police?” Yeonwoo looked at the ID name. “Master?”
“I thought I’d die from all that running. But what’s this?” The new guy arrived, holding onto the door frame. In a blink, he was right in Yeonwoo’s face, leaning down and glaring at him. Yeonwoo tried not to flinch. “This girly-looking kid?”
Invading his personal space and throwing insults, this “master” sure knew how to intimidate someone. He came for Hobin’s aid, so Yeonwoo didn’t blame him for being hostile and overly cautious. He took a quick guess.
Tall and lean. Incredible footwork, the way he’d approached Yeonwoo in a flash. A sporty person.
There were flames in his eyes. Yeonwoo recognized the familiar tactic in sparring: vying for dominance. He was a fighter. Or better, a martial artist. After all, Hobin called him “master” in his contact.
Yeonwoo had no intention to fight him. He went for a peaceful approach.
“Hello. My name is Ji–”
“Don’t care.” The guy bared his canine, then snatched the phone from Yeonwoo’s hand and rushed to Hobin’s side. His friends formed a circle around him.
“Say hi to the Yoo Hobin Company!”
Yeonwoo was impressed. Hobin was an ambitious young man, and How to Fight was proliferating, absorbing subscribers from other channels. He’d learned from the best and adapted to the NewTube ecosystem. His boss had also confirmed the guy was a hard-working money-maker.
It was shocking to know all the bad deeds from OnePunchTV and Fight Nerd. Han Wangguk, Han Gyeoul and Lee Hyeonsoo used to be his respectable colleagues before Seongjoon fired them. (In the back of his mind, Yeonwoo started to question the truth behind Hobin’s reckless actions at K-Star and his boss’ credibility.)
“That’s right!” Hobin shouted. “We’re the Yoo Hobin Company!”
Then came the formal introduction of his company members.
Oh, so that brown-haired guy was Seong Taehoon, who was about to debut as a gaming NewTuber. That made perfect sense. He looked like someone who would enjoy playing more than studying. Someone who would sneer and look down on studious people like Yeonwoo.
A delinquent. A bully.
Wait, no! Yeonwoo scolded himself. I shouldn’t think that about him. I shouldn’t assume things. I shouldn’t be judgemental.
Before leaving, Taehoon gave one last spiteful look in his direction. Or was it his imagination? Was his prejudice getting in the way? Yeonwoo suddenly felt uneasy about him.
He checked his phone. It was 6.30 p.m. on a Wednesday, so he needed to revise English assignments and vocabulary for the mock entrance exam at the library until 7.00 p.m. He should make it quick.
He raised his hand. “Seongjoon, I have a question.”
“Hm?”
“Do you know Seong Taehoon?”
“Ah, that guy? He has the talents of a NewTuber. I was about to recruit him to XJ Company, too bad he’s already chosen Hobin’s company. What about him?”
“I find him very strange,” he answered. “That’s all.”
No time for him to think about a stranger. He needed to go to the library. Father would be checking in a few minutes.
“Alright, I’m going now.” He bowed to his co-workers. “Goodbye, everyone! Have a nice evening!”
Ji Yeonwoo had no time to care about a stranger. It wasn’t like they would see each other again.
***
Oh, he was wrong. A few days later, he was kicked and stepped on by that same stranger.
Oh, and Seong Taehoon was unhappy. No, he was furious. Before Yeonwoo could react, Taehoon had dashed towards him, accompanied by a string of forced laughs.
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha…”
A push kick and Yeonwoo fell on the trash bags. It baffled him, the insurmountable strength behind this simple kick. Taehoon was stronger than he’d thought. A flip-flop pressed down on his stomach.
“Um…”
Yeonwoo didn’t know what he’d done wrong to upset the guy.
“Did you just laugh at me?”
“You–you are…”
Their faces were so close, close enough that he could smell a hint of mint in Taehoon’s ragged breath. Yeonwoo shakily adjusted his crooked glasses. It wasn't easy to read Taehoon’s expression at the moment.
If only he could figure out what he’d done, Taehoon wouldn’t be so offended.
“I asked, did you just laugh at me?”
But he didn’t…
Taehoon grabbed his hair and pulled it back. It hurt. “Answer my question!”
But he didn’t…
Oh! Oh! So that was the reason. It was such a relief to know. Unreasonable as it was, Yeonwoo held onto it and apologized. They were strangers, but he would never want Taehoon to have any ill will towards him. He hoped the guy would cool down and leave him be.
In response, Taehoon gritted his teeth. That fire in his eyes sparked again. Yeonwoo felt he was being read like an open book. Like Taehoon could recognize something he couldn’t.
Exposed. Vulnerable. Helpless.
“You heard me even with this in your ear, while blasting music like this?” Taehoon pulled an AirPod from his left ear. He glowered. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Well, of course, because you said I laughed at you?”
“You’ve got a few screws off, don’t you?”
Please! Please don’t be mad at me! Yeonwoo thought. Please leave me be! Why are you still angry when I’ve already apologized to you?
Taehoon’s facial expression changed abruptly. He’d completely shut off. Emotionless. Yeonwoo could barely make sense of Taehoon then. He couldn’t possibly make sense of Taehoon now.
“Yo, asshole!” He held up the earphone. “I’m confiscating this.”
Yeonwoo spent the next five minutes pondering what he’d done wrong to deserve such treatment. If he could solve the puzzle called Seong Taehoon, perhaps he could ask for his AirPod back?
***
The mini-investigation went surprisingly well, considering he put minimal effort into it. Coincidentally, Choi Bomi was a close friend to Yoo Hobin’s group, so they often crossed paths.
During the day, the medical club took the elderly patients out on a walk. From afar, Yeonwoo caught a glimpse of Seong Taehoon strolling on the beach, feet kicking up the sand in all directions.
There were patterns to his kicks – the way his flip-flops slid and swept at the soft ground.
“Ugh! This is so fucking boring,” Taehoon grumbled. “Why did I have to follow those brats to the beach?”
A large wave was about to crash into him. Taehoon jumped, spun two rounds mid-air, and delivered a tornado roundhouse kick. He did Yeonwoo’s 720-degree kicking record so effortlessly, without any preparations.
Yeonwoo watched and analyzed his footwork again. Lightning fast, multi-directional, with more jumping than stepping.
There was only a martial art with that type of footwork.
“Taekwondo.”