AP CH 19 (Mighty Town)

On the eve of his very first day off, Seon-woo found himself in a rare bout of indecision. And the reason was none other than Eun Hyeon-chae, who had been waiting impatiently for his holiday to arrive.

Though he had promised to take him out once his schedule opened up, the truth was that the options at a ski resort were rather limited. Skiing, or perhaps making use of the other facilities—that was about it. Mighty Town did have a water park with natural hot springs and a snow sledding hill, but neither of those held the slightest appeal or interest for him.

“Would going outside be a better idea……?”

No matter how much he turned it over in his head, no real answer came. In the end, the moment Seon-woo saw Hyeon-chae waiting at his door on the morning of his first holiday, he simply skipped the greetings and went straight to the point.

“What do you want to do today? Got anything in mind?”

“I want to watch sunbae ski.”

The answer caught him off guard—but only for a moment. Then Seon-woo gave a small nod and led Hyeon-chae toward the Apres ski shop.










“You said this is your first time skiing, right?”

“Yes.”

Seon-woo, kneeling at Hyeon-chae’s feet to help him into his boots, looked up. Reading the tension on Hyeon-chae’s face, he smiled and gave his knee a reassuring pat.

“What’s wrong? Are you scared?”

“……Just nervous.”

“Well, it’s my first time teaching someone taller than me, but……well, it’s not like I can’t hold you steady. Just trust me.”

Seeing Hyeon-chae emerge in full ski gear, Seon-woo was struck anew by his appearance. He had thought a sporty look wouldn’t suit him, yet with his natural build and the way the clothes hung on him, he could have passed for a ski-wear model. Of course—that impression only lasted when he was standing still without moving.

As if the unfamiliar ski boots were bothering him, Hyeon-chae shuffled awkwardly across the floor. Seon-woo’s eyes curved in amusement. Displeased, Hyeon-chae pursed his plump lips, then hurried over and stopped right at Seon-woo’s side.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I haven’t said anything yet, have I?”

Though he insisted as much, Seon-woo couldn’t help it—he burst into laughter, unable to hold back any longer. Eun Hyeon-chae scrunched his brows in a small, endearing frown.

“……Sunbae, you walked just fine in these. I didn’t know it would be this uncomfortable.”

“You’ll get used to it quickly once you walk around a bit. If anything hurts, tell me right away. I’ll adjust it for you.”

Hyeon-chae shook his head, assuring him nothing hurt. Seon-woo handed him a pair of ski poles, then slung two ski plates over his shoulders—one on each side.

“Let’s go. Follow me.”








When Eun Hyeon-chae had said it’d been over ten years since he last skied—once, as a child—Seon-woo had figured he’d have to start with teaching him how to fall. But as soon as they began, he realized that Hyeon-chae’s body still retained the memory from all those years ago. Just a light guide was enough for him to pick it back up, and he handled himself well enough that basic instruction was unnecessary. He was already in good enough shape to go straight to the slopes.

“You’re doing well. We could go up right now, honestly. Want to give it a try?”

Choosing one of the beginner slopes—a long, gentle trail—Nam Seon-woo headed with Hyeon-chae toward the lift.

Moving in ski boots with the long plates attached still felt awkward to Hyeon-chae, and he kept shifting his stance until, almost forcibly, he was scooped onto the approaching lift from behind. In the shuffle, he ended up sitting far from Seon-woo, which clearly didn’t please him. From his seat, he wriggled and tried to edge closer, but with no idea how to manage it, he only fumbled in place. When the lift swayed dramatically as it passed a tower, Hyeon-chae froze, stiffening as he clutched the safety bar tight.

Eventually giving up on closing the distance, Hyeon-chae looked down at the open air beneath his dangling feet and muttered under his breath.

“This is seriously a twisted invention…… hanging in the air like this……”

“You got acrophobia or something? If you’re scared, should we take the gondola next time?”

“I’m not afraid of heights.”

Pulling his gaze away from below, Hyeon-chae turned to watch the skiers gliding down the slope. His shoulders jerked slightly. Curious, Seon-woo followed his gaze—someone had fallen, skidding into the safety net on the edge of the slope, tangled like a fish in a net. Staring fixedly at the sight, Hyeon-chae murmured under his breath,

“……What if I fall like that while skiing?”

“Then you get back up. You’re good at standing, aren’t you?”

“That was on flat ground. This is a slope. I’ll slide all the way down.”

Hearing Eun Hyeon-chae’s voice tumble out in one breath, so full of worry that he even forgot to breathe, Nam Seon-woo couldn’t help but laugh. Leaning back against the seat, he fixed his gaze on him.

Cuter than I thought.

He quietly shifted over one seat.

Hyeon-chae, still craning his neck to watch the fallen skier until the lift had passed by the fallen man, flinched when the chair swayed and tightened his grip on the safety bar.

“Don’t move—look, it tilted.”

“Then come sit one seat closer.”

Only then, noticing how near they now were, he slid over hesitantly, this time without a word about being scared, inching along the seat while still clutching the bar. Seon-woo waited a beat, then wrapped an arm around Hyeon-chae’s waist and pulled him firmly closer. Now that they were sitting side by side, practically touching, he gave Hyeon-chae’s shoulder a small pat.

“If you get scared, I’ll hold you. So don’t be afraid.”

“……What if I said I’m scared right now?”

“Want me to hold your hand?”

The words were spoken playfully, but Hyeon-chae immediately peeled off one of his gloves. Caught off guard, Seon-woo’s eyes widened for a second, then he let out a quiet chuckle and wrapped his gloved hand around the one offered to him.

“Your glove……”

“My hand’s cold. Hurry and put yours back on too.”

Realizing Seon-woo had no intention of removing his gloves, Hyeon-chae pressed his lips together with a dissatisfied look. But he clearly didn’t want to let go, even if the warmth was dulled by the fabric, so he stubbornly held tight to the thick glove with his bare hand.

The biting wind had already turned the tips of his fingers red, and eventually Seon-woo gave in. Reaching over, he took Hyeon-chae’s glove and slid it back onto his hand, speaking as he did so.

“Once your hands freeze, it takes a while for them to warm up again. Keep a hot pack in your pocket and use it when you get cold. Loop the straps of your gloves and poles around your wrists—it’s easier that way. People drop things from the lift all the time. See those scattered down there?”

He pointed toward the net stretched beneath them, where bits of fallen gear were scattered here and there. Hyeon-chae followed his gaze and gave a small nod.

Finding the clumsy fingertips bothersome, Nam Seon-woo slipped off his own gloves and tucked them under his arm. He fastened the straps of the gloves and poles around Eun Hyeon-chae’s wrist, then tugged the glove snugly into place. Making sure no wind or snow could seep in, he adjusted the cuff of his ski jacket, then wiggled his fingers at him for the other hand.

Contrary to what he had said about not taking off his gloves in the cold, Seon-woo was now barehanded, his own fingertips reddening from the wind. Watching in silence, Hyeon-chae suddenly asked,

“Are you always this considerate?”

Seon-woo glanced up, and seeing the quiet shimmer in Hyeon-chae’s eyes, he lifted one corner of his mouth into a grin.

“It’s part of the standard package. But if you fall for me over something like this, that’d be a problem.”

“……You don’t have to do it for me. It’s just—this is the first time sunbae has done something like this for me, so it makes me nervous.”

“That makes me sound guilty, you know.”

“You said I could book your lessons, right?”

“Why? Planning to buy out every slot? Getting jealous just thinking about me doing this for someone else?”

Caught off guard, Eun Hyeon-chae shut his mouth, his expression betraying that Seon-woo had struck right at the mark. Nam Seon-woo pulled a fresh heat pack from the inner pocket of his jacket, gave it a shake, and once it began to radiate warmth, slipped it into Hyeon-chae’s pocket and said,

“I don’t date students.”

“……I never asked you to give me lessons.”

“I know. You’re a hoobae, not a student.”

Seon-woo let out a short laugh, then jerked his chin toward the front.

“We’re here. Let’s lift the safety bar.”










Despite all his earlier fear about falling, Eun Hyeon-chae only fell once as they made their way down the long slope. And even that wasn’t his fault—he was trying to avoid a boy who was coming straight down the hill in a reckless schuss, poles tucked under his arms.

Nam Seon-woo, who had been following at a leisurely pace, immediately veered toward him the moment he saw Hyeon-chae fall.

“Eun Hyeon-chae! Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

Aside from one of his skis coming off and his boot popping free, he looked perfectly fine, like someone who had simply sat down out of fatigue. Hyeon-chae was about to push himself up when he noticed Seon-woo reaching out a hand. Instead of resisting, he let the arm he’d braced behind him go slack and settled back onto the snow.

“My ski isn’t broken, is it? It flew off all the way over there.”

“It’s fine. They’re designed to come off on impact so your knees don’t twist when you fall…..More importantly, do you think you can stand?”

When Hyeon-chae gave a small shake of the head, Seon-woo leaned in and helped lift him upright. Hyeon-chae dusted the snow off and bent down to reattach his plate, but the slope’s incline made the ski keep sliding away no matter how he tried.

Seeing him struggle, Seon-woo took off one of his own skis, set it aside, and walked over. He crouched in front of Hyeon-chae, one knee dropping into the snow.

“The snow’s caked on your boots, that’s why it keeps bouncing off. Knock it off here.”

Once the snow had been brushed away, the boots finally locked in with a satisfying click. Confirming that they were properly fastened, Eun Hyeon-chae looked up—only to meet Seon-woo’s gaze.

Caught under that steady stare, Seon-woo chuckled and asked playfully,

“What, was I being too sweet again?”

“……Please don’t tease me.”

Still grinning, Seon-woo was caught completely off guard when Hyeon-chae suddenly turned and sped off down the slope without another word. Flustered, he rushed to strap on his skis and shouted after him.

“Hey! Eun Hyeon-chae!!”











From the start, it was clear Eun Hyeon-chae had a natural gift for sports—great instincts and a sharp sense of movement. Even with just a bit of instruction, he quickly picked up the techniques with surprising ease. It was hard to believe he’d only learned once more than ten years ago.
After smoothly executing both the snowplow and the stem turn, and making several successful runs down the slope, Seon-woo decided to take him to a slightly more advanced course.

Once they boarded the gondola, Seon-woo pulled off his goggles and ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Aren’t you hungry? There’s a restaurant at the top. This slope is pretty long—if you want, we can eat first before heading down.”

“I’m fine with anything,” Hyeon-chae replied calmly.

A cold breeze slipped through the slightly open gondola window, brushing lightly against their eyelashes. The gondola glided slowly between snow-laden trees in full bloom with ice blossoms. Seon-woo sat there quietly, blankly gazing out at the scenery—until a soft voice reached his ear.

“I think I get why you like skiing now, sunbae. It suits you. You and the snow.”

At those words, Seon-woo turned his head. Eun Hyeon-chae, still clutching the hot pack Seon-woo had given him earlier with both hands, wasn’t even sparing a glance at the breathtaking scenery surrounding them. His eyes were solely on Seon-woo.

“Sunbae seems like someone who comes alive in the snow.”

“……You say the oddest things.”

Though his response was dry and almost dismissive, Seon-woo found himself staring for a long while at the faint reflection of his own face in the snowy landscape beyond the glass.