Chapter Text
“Keep going!” the coach yelled from the side of the pool.
The kid clenched his teeth and kept swimming,
his small arms moving through the water again and again.
The indoor swimming pool echoed with splashing water and heavy breathing.
Then suddenly..
“Coach!” the kid cried out.
His body stopped moving.
“I can’t move my arm! Help!”
Ahn Keonho’s eyes widened.
Without thinking, he jumped straight into the pool and swam toward the boy.
The kid looked terrified, tears mixing with the pool water on his face.
Keonho quickly held him up.
“Hey hey, it’s okay..” he said softly
trying to calm him down. “Are you okay?”
The kid shook his head, holding his arm tightly.
“No… it hurts…”
Keonho frowned immediately.
Years of swimming injuries made him recognize the pain right away.
“Okay..” he said calmly.
“We’re going to the hospital. You got injured.”
The kid nodded weakly.
Keonho carried him out of the pool carefully and wrapped a towel around him before bringing him to his car.
The ride to the hospital was quiet except for the kid’s small sniffles.
“It’s gonna be okay..”
Keonho told him while driving.
“Just don’t move your arm too much.”
The kid nodded again.
When they arrived at the hospital
Keonho helped him walk inside.
The bright white lights hurt his eyes.
He walked to the reception desk while the kid stood beside him.
“He was swimming and injured his arm..” Keonho explained to the nurse.
The nurse nodded quickly.
“Okay, please come this way.”
They followed her down the hallway.
The smell of medicine and clean floors filled the air.
The nurse stopped in front of a room.
“Please wait here for a minute,” she said kindly. “First, who are you to the patient?”
“I’m his coach,” Keonho answered.
The nurse nodded while writing something down.
“And your name?”
“Ahn Keonho.”
The nurse suddenly froze for a second.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Of course she knew that name.
Olympic gold medalist Ahn Keonho.
Everyone in Korea knew him.
The nurse looked up at him again, almost surprised he was standing right in front of her.
She smiled awkwardly.
“Ah… thank you. Please wait for a moment.”
A few minutes later, another nurse walked toward him carefully.
“Um… excuse me…” she said shyly. “Are you really Olympic champion Ahn Keonho?”
Keonho gave a small polite nod.
“Ah, yes.”
The two nurses looked at each other excitedly.
“Can we take a picture with you?” one of them asked. “We’re really big fans.”
Keonho smiled a little.
Even after all these years, he still wasn’t used to people recognizing him everywhere.
“Sure.”
“Thank you so much!”
After taking the picture, one nurse smiled brightly.
“You can see your student now. This way please.”
Keonho followed her into the room.
The kid was sitting on the hospital bed quietly while a doctor checked his arm.
Keonho bowed politely.
“Hello, doctor. How is his injury?”
The doctor looked up calmly.
“It’s not too serious,” he explained.
“But he needs to rest for a few weeks. No intense movement for now. Bring him back next week so we can check again..”
Keonho nodded carefully, listening to every word.
“Thank you.”
The doctor gave a small nod before leaving the room.
Keonho looked at the kid.
“Are you okay?”
The kid smiled weakly.
“It hurts… but the doctor said it’ll get better.”
Keonho patted his head gently.
“Good. Let’s go. I’ll take you home and explain everything to your mom.”
“Yes, Coach Ahn.”
After leaving the hospital room
Keonho walked through the long hallway quietly.
He wasn’t paying attention to the people around him.
But then…
Someone brushed past his shoulder.
Keonho stopped walking for a second.
Something about that person felt strangely familiar.
He turned around slowly.
All he could see was the person’s back walking away down the hallway.
A doctor’s coat.
Tall figure.
Black hair.
Even from behind… it felt familiar enough to make his chest tighten painfully.
Keonho stared for a few seconds longer.
His heartbeat suddenly became strange.
“…No..” he whispered to himself quietly.
It couldn’t be.
After ten years?
No way.
He shook his head and looked away.
“I’m just seeing things…”
—
Later that night, Keonho finally returned home after dropping his student off safely.
The moment he entered his apartment, silence filled the space.
A huge luxury apartment.
Big windows.
A perfect view of the Han River glowing under the night lights.
The kind of home people dreamed of having.
But it always felt empty.
Keonho loosened his jacket and sat heavily on the couch, exhaustion covering his face.
He is 28 now.
Sometimes he wondered where all the years went.
He had already done almost everything people wanted in life.
Five Olympic gold medals.
World records.
Fame.
Money.
Everywhere he went, people recognized him instantly.
People asked for pictures.
Autographs.
Interviews.
The nation loved him.
But none of it made him feel complete anymore.
He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.
Japan had changed him completely.
Back then, when he first arrived there at 18, he was terrified.
The training was brutal.
Everyone was talented.
Everyone was faster.
Stronger.
Better.
He spent years drowning himself in swimming pools until the smell of chlorine made him sick.
Swim.
Train.
Repeat.
Again and again.
Sometimes he thought his body would break before his mind did.
But somehow he survived it all.
Now his shoulders were broader.
His body stronger.
His face sharper and more mature.
He quit smoking.
Quit drinking.
He became disciplined.
Calm.
Cold.
Not the scared 18 years old boy anymore.
His phone suddenly buzzed.
His mother again.
Probably asking him to compete in another Olympics.
Keonho stared at the screen for a few seconds before declining the call.
He barely talked to his parents now.
Now he completely understood why his siblings didn’t want to meet his parents anymore.
Especially his father.
Even after all these years, the anger inside him never fully disappeared.
The medals were never what he truly wanted.
Not anymore.
Now he just wanted to teach.
To become a coach.
To protect young athletes from the pressure he once suffered through.
His students respected him deeply.
Parents trusted him.
He was strict, but gentle with the kids.
He never push them too hard.
And the kids improved quickly under him.
That alone made him happier than standing on a gold medal podium ever did.
Keonho sighed quietly and reached toward an old phone sitting inside a drawer nearby.
He hadn’t touched it in years.
Slowly, he turned it on.
Old photos appeared one after another.
And there he was.
Seonghyeon.
Keonho’s fingers froze instantly.
Pictures of a skinny teenage boy awkwardly smiling at the camera.
Peace signs in every photo.
Messy hair.
Soft eyes.
Awkward smile.
A face Keonho could never forget no matter how hard he tried.
His chest ached painfully.
Ten years.
A whole decade.
People always told him to
Find a nice woman.
Get married.
Start a family.
But he couldn’t.
No matter how much time passed, no one ever replaced Seonghyeon.
Not even close.
And honestly…
He didn’t even know where Seonghyeon was anymore.
Did he hate Keonho now?
Did he move on already?
Maybe Seonghyeon had someone beside him now.
Someone better.
Someone who didn’t disappear without a proper goodbye.
Keonho looked down at the old pictures quietly.
His throat tightened.
Because even after ten years…
he still remembered every single thing about him.