YHP 23

Taffy quickly warmed up to Ho-jin and took quite a liking to him.

With a neon green tennis ball in her mouth, Taffy placed her head at Ho-jin’s feet. She wagged her tail wildly, clearly excited. Her lips were fully drawn back to her ears. It made sesne as not many people could throw the ball with that much power.

Jeong-in was always short on energy, so he couldn’t keep up, but even Hyun-wook, who had exercised diligently all his life, and Ju-young, whose job was to maintain his physique, couldn’t satisfy the four-legged’s enthusiasm when it came to playing fetch. The only person who could ever tire Taffy out with fetch was the occasional major league pitcher who visited Ju-young, and their average fastball speed exceeded 150 km/h.

“Good job. That’s great.”

But right now, Ho-jin was pulling it off. Jeong-in couldn’t exactly say exactly how fast the ball was going, but to him, it looked no different from a professional baseball player’s throw. Ho-jin patted Taffy’s forehead, then wound up and threw the ball again with a big swing of his arm. Once Taffy dashed off after it, Ho-jin finally started working with the pitchfork.

“Let’s stop here for today.”

Jeong-in checked the time and stood up. Maybe he’d been sitting for too long, but his head spun a little. Taffy had already brought back the ball, and she flopped down at Jeong-in’s feet, panting. After all that fetch, thanks to Ho-jin’s efforts, she was fully exhausted.

“You can put the pitchfork over here,” Jeong-in said.

“Fork… this?”

As Jeong-in nodded, Ho-jin laughed loudly.

“We call this ‘negi,’ like the ‘ne’ in Naver.”

Wiping his forehead with the towel hanging around his neck, Ho-jin approached Jeong-in and pointed one by one to the gardening tools lined up under the tree.

“That’s a samyang sickle, a mak hoe, a hopba… and these, their names are slightly different, but they’re all hoes.”

“They all look different, but they have the same name?”

Ho-jin picked one up. Using one hand to cover the sharp edge so it wouldn’t touch Jeong-in, he gestured for him to take a closer look.

“See how the end is pointy?” If there’s one prong, it’s a one-pronged hoe. If there are three, it’s a three-pronged hoe… the two-pronged one is a two-prong hoe, or it’s sometimes called a garlic hoe.”

“What do you use them for?”
“Well, you can use them to pick out rocks, but most of the time, they’re for pulling weeds or digging up wild herbs.”

Since Jeong-in couldn’t rely on Ho-jin being around all the time, he figured he should make a mental note of everything he’d learned.

Soon, Ho-jin let out a light sigh and sat down in the shade. He emptied a two-liter water bottle without stopping, looking just like a hippo.

“Was there originally a tree there? There were quite a few remaining roots in the ground.”

“Yeah.”

Jeong-in leaned back against the tree trunk and looked out over the vegetable garden.

“… It was a magnolia tree.”

It had been his grandfather’s favorite tree.

“…”

Now, only dead roots remained, but until a few years ago, bright red flowers would bloom on its branches. In the fall, leaves larger than Jeong-in’s face would fall in heaps, rustling as they landed.

Whenever he picked up the fallen leaves, poked holes in them with his fingernails, and brought them to him, he would always praise him, even though he saw the same thing every time. His grandfather would ask where Jeong-in had found something so pretty, and say that the smiling face on the leaf looked just as lovely as his grandchild.

Jeong-in recalled a conversation he once had with his grandfather.

‘Grandpa, you know…’

‘Yes, sweetheart?’

‘They say everything in the world dies someday. Is that true?’

‘…’

‘Then will this tree die someday too?’

His grandfather’s face, who would always smile no matter how much Jeong-in whined or begged, seemed vivid enough now to touch if he just reached out his hand.

‘It will live for a very long time. The big pine tree at Grandpa’s house is already over five hundred years old, you know?’

‘…But what if it gets sick? What if it dies in an accident?’

His grandfather had never once raised his voice at Jeong-in, but he wasn’t a good person to everyone. Especially not to Jeong-hun, Jeong-in’s uncle.

After losing his wife to atypical sepsis, his grandfather turned all his anger toward his second son, the only Alpha among his four children. Jeong-hun grew up believing his mother’s death was his fault, and he was someone who did not know how to express his emotions until he met Won-kyung.

However, Jeong-in had been too young at the time to know that his grandfather was the one who had ruined his father’s childhood, and Jeong-hun respected Jeong-in and his relationship with him while keeping his own issues separate.

So, there was no way he couldn’t love him. Jeong-in could say with certainty that he had loved his grandfather without missing a single moment. Even now, knowing everything, he never once blamed Jeong-hun, but that didn’t mean all his longing for his grandfather had disappeared.

It couldn’t be helped. That warm embrace had been a very large part of the world that protected little Jeong-in.

He resented him endlessly, yet he missed him so much it hurt. Sometimes, he missed him so much that his heart ached as if it would tear apart.

 ‘I don’t want the tree to die…’

Don’t cry, don’t cry. His grandfather would hug him tightly and comfort him as he sobbed.

‘Look. The leaves are still green, right? That means the tree is determined to live for a long time, even after Jeong-in grows up.’

‘…Hic.’

‘But even if it dies…’

Jeong-in recalled those lonely eyes.

‘It will worry about Jeong-in until the very end and cherish him very much. Even in its final breath, it will only think of Jeong-in.’

His grandfather had already been dying, beyond anyone’s help. It was only much later that Jeong-in realized he’d been comparing himself to the tree that day.

‘What if our precious boy feels heartache and cries? What if dark clouds cover that pretty face of his?’

‘…’

‘So you don’t have to worry about anything, Jeong-in. This tree will hide all the bad things so Jeong-in can’t see them, and it will bear them all alone and leave.’

No. You shouldn’t have left like that.

You should never have left the world so lonely.

‘Then, from a faraway place, I’ll keep watching Jeong-in grow up…’

You should have let me be there at your side in the end.

You shouldn’t have told such an unbelievable lie about being overseas.

‘When spring comes with warm sunshine, the tree will send new sprouts that will protect you in my place.’

You should have given me a chance to say goodbye. At least, in your final moments, you should have let me hold your hand,

And one last time—just once more—you should have given me the chance to say I loved you.

“…It’s a species with deep roots.”

A voice suddenly broke through Jeong-in’s thoughts, and he turned his head. He saw Ho-jin smiling gently at him.

“Even when a tree dies, sometimes the small roots survive. You have to remove all of them for the next crops to grow properly, but it’ll be a bit difficult for you to do alone, hyung.”

His face, so clear and bright, matched the breezy early spring.

“When did you come up to Seoul?” Jeong-in asked, recalling that Ho-jin had said he worked on a farm back home.

“Right before I started middle school—basically the winter I turned fourteen.”

“You said you went back every vacation. You lived alone up here by yourself at that age?”

Ho-jin nodded.

“I placed in a provincial competition, so I got into a school with a dormitory.”

So he’d lived alone ever since then. Despite his well-cared for appearance, like a young master raised without hardship, this was another unexpected piece of his history. Jeong-in looked at him with curious eyes.

“Where’s your hometown?”

“Gongju. Our house is in a neighborhood called Uidang-myeon, which is a bit outside the city… Even within Uidang-myeon, our village is one of the smallest. I’m not exaggerating when I say everyone knows how many spoons each other has.”

Jeong-in chuckled. “I bet the whole place went wild when you won that gold medal.”

“Oh… you knew? I didn’t think you knew I was an athlete…”

Ho-jin lowered his head sheepishly.  “…Yeah, it was kind of a big deal. They threw a huge party.”

It probably wasn’t just any kind of party. For a world-class athlete to come from a tiny rural village, all of Gongju must have been in an uproar. Perhaps there were even a few statues of Ho-jin scattered throughout town.

“Ah, right.”

Ho-jin suddenly opened his bag. He let Taffy sniff the scent of the kinesiology tape and then looked up at Jeong-in.

“I think I need to redo my taping… Is it okay if I take my shirt off for a minute?”

Same gender or not, he really asked about everything. Jeong-in nodded, and after a brief hesitation, Ho-jin quickly peeled off his sweat-soaked T-shirt in one swift motion.

“…”

Jeong-in glanced at his body. As expected, it was packed with perfectly sculpted muscles that fit his large frame. Combined with his natural physique, it seemed like he had pushed the human body to its maximum physical potential.

Even when Jeong-in was in his prime, his body had never been that defined—not even close, considering he was younger then. It was hard to believe they were even the same species, and Jeong-in couldn’t help but stare in amazement.

Ho-jin nonchalantly tore off the tattered tape and then dug his fingernail into the edge of a fresh roll. Watching him in silence, Jeong-in let out a soft sigh and sat down beside him.

“Give it here.”

Jeong-in snatched the tape from Ho-jin’s hand. He estimated the length of the muscle by eye and cut it off. Ho-jin asked in surprise as he watched Jeongin’s hand skillfully wrapping the tape over the tightly pulled skin.

“How do you know how to do this?”

“I used to be an athlete.”

A long time ago. Jeong-in wrapped the tape around Ho-jin’s trapezius and deltoid in a wide arc. Though it didn’t go on as smoothly as he remembered—he was clearly out of practice—it still held well enough to get the job done. It was certainly better than Ho-jin struggling to do it alone.

“What kind of sport did you do?”

“Mid-distance track.”

Ho-jin let out a small exclamation.

“Wow. That really suits you.”

Jeong-in finished taping and patted Ho-jin’s shoulder, signaling he was done.

“There’s no such thing as a sport that suits someone or not,” Jeong-in retorted.

“There is, especially with proportions like yours.”

Ho-jin turned to face Jeong-in. Because of the difference in their sitting heights, Jeong-in’s gaze landed right on Ho-jin’s chest. His skin was fair, like that of someone who played indoor sports, but seeing the tightly packed muscles that seemed out of place with his pale skin made Jeong-in feel strange, so he averted his eyes.

“Why did you quit?” Ho-jin asked gently.

“Hormonal disorder.”

It wasn’t something he needed to hide. Jeong-in answered calmly, tidied up the leftover tape, and put it back in Ho-jin’s bag.

“I lived my whole life thinking I was a Beta, but I presented at sixteen. Managing the sensitivity was too much for my body to handle, so I had no choice.”

“…”

The bright smile on Ho-jin’s face faded. Jeong-in clicked his tongue lightly, as if he had expected it.

“That’s all in the past.”

He dusted himself off and stood up. Ho-jin just sat there, staring up at him blankly.

“Aren’t you going?”

“I should go.”

Ho-jin took out a new T-shirt, put it on, and stood up.

“I can just jump over like before, right?”

“Are you sure you don’t need a ladder?”

“I’m good.”

Taffy followed close behind as Ho-jin strode toward the wall. After petting Taffy one last time, he turned back to Jeong-in.

“See you in a bit, hyung.”

Then, with a single leap, he grabbed the decorative edge. He didn’t forget to retrieve the meat still hanging there and tossed it to Taffy.

Ho-jin disappeared from Jeong-in’s view as easily as he’d crossed the wall.

They might really need better security, Jeong-in thought, turning around. He glanced at the vegetable garden that Ho-jin had half-tilled. Most of the gravel that had once covered the large tree roots had already been pushed aside.

“…”

The sunlight was unusually warm. Jeong-in gazed at the spot where the tree had been for a moment.

‘When spring comes with warm sunshine, the tree will send new sprouts that will protect you in my place.’

“…Lies.”

No matter how bright the sun, a dead tree won’t sprout new leaves.

“There’s nothing left.”Jeong-in turned away, muttering to the empty air where no one could hear. Then he started walking toward Ho-jin, who was waiting on the other side of the wall.