YHP 19

Yoo Ho-jin effortlessly lifted all the gardening tools Jeong-in had been struggling to carry in one arm.

“…What are you doing here?” Jeong-in asked.

“I was looking around to find a place to rent nearby. I think I’ll be staying at school for a bit longer this semester.”

It was strange. As far as Jeong-in knew, the Physical Education Department building was quite far from where they were standing.

“Aren’t you in the P.E. department?”

“Yes, I am. By the way, these are pretty heavy… Where did you carry these from?”

Ho-jin casually bounced the tools up and down a couple of times as they weighed nothing, and Jeong-in didn’t respond. To admit that he was panting and struggling as if he were about to die after walking only about 100 meters felt strangely embarrassing.

“I’ll carry them to where you’re going. Where do you need to go?”

Ho-jin had already turned halfway toward the alleyway. Normally, Jeong-in would have snapped back with a sharp refusal, but given the situation, it was hard to turn him down this time.

Jeong-in weakly raised his hand and pointed behind Ho-jin.

“… Just ahead.”

“Let’s go.”

His arm muscles, which were already worn out, started to tremble uncontrollably.

The image of Cho Hyo-jun mocking him flashed through his mind again—saying even a sloth would be more active than him. Honestly, it was true; he might not even be as strong as a slot at this point.

“By the way, why do you have all this stuff?” Ho-jin suddenly asked. 

“I’ve got some work to do,” Jeong-in replied.

“Work? Hmm… Are you doing some kind of part-time job?”

“…Something like that.”

“What kind of work is it?”

So many questions.

Jeong-in, now too tired to even bother explaining, dismissed it with a single word. “Labor.”

At those words, Ho-jin stopped walking. When Jeong-in asked why, he simply said it was nothing and started walking again.

Strangely enough, the gardening tools in Ho-jin’s arms no longer made any clattering noises. Just the absence of the rattling sound that had accompanied every step seemed to cut Jeong-in’s stress in half.

“…Do you go out often?” Ho-jin asked.

“No,” Jeong-in answered curtly.

Before they knew it, they were in front of Jeong-in’s house. Jeong-in held out his hands.

“We’re here. You can give them to me now.”

“Careful.”

Ho-jin carefully handed over the tools he was carrying with great care.

Jeong-in thanked him. “Thanks.”

“Hyung, wait a second.”

Just as Jeong-in was about to turn away, Ho-jin called out to him urgently.

“Let me see your wrist.”

“Ah…”

Ho-jin grabbed Jeong-in’s wrist and rolled up his sleeve. A sharp sting spread across the area, causing Jeong-in to instinctively furrow his brow as he looked down at his wrist. Beneath the fabric of his sleeve was a long scratch stretching across his skin.

“Did this happen while you were working?”

“…Probably.”

Jeong-in must have scraped it while moving stones, or perhaps while lugging around those tools. In any case, there hadn’t been any other incident that could have caused such an injury besides that cursed vegetable garden.

Ho-jin then let out a deep sigh and took the things Jeong-in was holding in his arms.

“I’ll carry them inside for you. What’s your unit number?”

“It’s right in front—you really don’t have to.”

“You’re hurt.”

Ho-jin’s tone was unusually firm. Jeong-in glanced up at Ho-jin with a fleeting look of surprise.

The bright, ever-present smile that was always on Ho-jin’s face vanished without a trace. Just like the expression Jeong-in had seen in videos of him right before a match, Ho-jin’s face had turned cold and serious as he spoke again in a steady voice.

“Do you have a first-aid kit? Let’s put these aside and disinfect your wound first.”

Now that he thought about it, Jeong-in hadn’t bought anything like a first-aid kit yet. As much as  Jeong-in felt like collapsing right then and there, it was better than making another trip out just to buy medicine. So, he took the lead and walked into the building.

The third-floor was still under renovation, and the room Jeong-in was staying in for the time being was located a few steps past the entrance. It was the same room the agent had first shown him.

As Jeong-in flipped open the old-fashioned door lock cover, Ho-jin took a step back—probably his way of showing he wouldn’t peek at the passcode. Not that it really mattered, because the code was still set to the default: 1111.

“…”

Jeong-in hesitated for a moment, his hand gripping the doorknob. Though he’d grown somewhat familiar with Ho-jin after a few encounters, the thought of being in a confined space alone with an Alpha—especially if one of his episodes suddenly flared up, things could become awkward for both of them.

“I’ll just bring these in. We can treat the wound outside,” Ho-jin said, as if he’d read Jeong-in’s mind.

 “Did I say anything?”

Feeling as if his thoughts had been laid bare, Jeong-in awkwardly swung the door open wider, deliberately exaggerating the motion and fully exposing the disastrous state of the interior.

He could feel Ho-jin rapidly sweep his gaze across the room. After an uncomfortable silence, Jeong-in bit his lip and took off his shoes.

“…Come in.”

“Okay.”

Ho-jin secured the door stopper to keep the door from closing before stepping inside. He neatly lined up the gardening tools he’d been carrying by the doorway.

With the space more open now, Jeong-in felt a little more at ease. Since there was no proper place to sit, he settled in the middle of the room. Ho-jin followed him like an obedient puppy and sat down across from him. Jeong-in hadn’t really noticed it when he was alone, but now with Ho-jin’s 192-centimeter frame sitting in the small space, the room suddenly looked terribly small.

Ho-jin opened his bag and began pulling out first-aid supplies. He seemed to have everything, from small bandages to kinesiology tape and more. Although he said he carried them for emergencies, most of the items showed signs of use. Jeong-in had assumed swimming would be less rough as an indoor sport, but it appeared that there was a fair chance of minor injuries.

Ho-jin deftly sorted through the gauze, medical tape, and ointments.

Without looking up, he said, “Let me see your hand for a second.”

“…Are you going to ask for permission for everything?”

Supporting Jeong-in’s wrist with one hand, Ho-jin carefully sprayed disinfectant over the wound.

“You seem uncomfortable when others touch you,” Ho-jin said over the hissing sound.

Jeong-in neither confirmed nor denied it. It was true—just a few years ago, even brushing up against an unfamiliar Alpha would have startled him badly. Though he’d improved since then, such interactions still left him feeling uncomfortable.

However, the reason he obediently let Ho-jin take his arm without protest was because he was tired. That was it.

“This might sting a little. Let me know if it hurts.”

Ho-jin dabbed the wound with an alcohol-soaked cotton swab he held with tweezers, gently wiping away the blood. Even though Ho-jin was careful not to irritate it, the sting flared up the moment Jeong-in saw the injury—proof of how fickle human perception could be. He’d been walking around unaware of the injury, and it didn’t hurt at all. But now that he saw it with his own eyes, it stung quite a bit.

“Hyung.”

After smearing ointment on a cotton swab and applying it in careful circles. Ho-jin paused.

“…I have a request.”

“What?”

The gash was longer than expected. It stretched at least 15 centimeters, starting from the base of his wrist. The cotton swab tapped lightly as it moved, leaving a glossy trail of ointment in its wake.

“Could you please quit your part-time job and instead help me with my training just once a week?”

Ho-jin placed a piece of gauze over the deepest part of the wound. Then he peeled off strips of medical tape with practiced ease.

 “It won’t take long. Just meet me ten times. That’s all I’m asking.”

“…”

“A million won per session—no, you can name any price you want. Just say whatever amount works for you.”

The offer was bold but absurd, and frankly, the terms were laughable.

The island and villa Jeong-in would receive for tending the garden were worth at least 40 million won per hour, even at the lowest estimate. To match that value over ten sessions, Ho-jin would need to offer at least 400 million won to even come close to those conditions.

Jeong-in had no idea how much a swimmer earned annually, but even if Ho-jin proposed a hundred times that amount, he’d never dream of entering a financial arrangement with a high-profile athlete hounded by the media. Jeong-in was about to refuse when Ho-jin spoke again.

“I’ve been struggling with something. It hasn’t been officially diagnosed yet, but…”

Ho-jin’s tone was detached, as if he were talking about someone else.

“I got injured during a meet last year. Since then, nothing’s felt right. I’ve been struggling with it a lot… but that day I saw you at the pool, it was different.”

Ho-jin’s eyes met Jeong-in’s—his gaze was steady and unflinching.

“That was the first time since my injury that I swam that far without thinking. There were no other variables, so I thought… maybe it was you.”

Jeong-in recalled his own past—the days when his body began to fail.

How he’d hidden every warning sign, too terrified to admit weakness. He always tried to show everyone only the strongest, most confident version of himself, because if he didn’t, it felt like everything would really fall apart. He feared that acknowledging it would mean the end.

“…”

However, this person was different. He wasn’t afraid to show his vulnerability. That was only possible because he had a strong conviction in himself.

Jeong-in’s worries about the comments under that viral video with 2.5 million views had been unfounded. He could tell. This person was someone who would never crumble even if a thousand malicious words rained down and shook him. He was someone who would surely overcome this moment and ultimately protect himself without wavering.

It was something truly beautiful and brilliant, so much like the future Jeong-in had once dreamed of.

“…What do I have to do?”

The question escaped before he could stop it, laced with envy sharp enough to cut.

“Just come to the pool and watch me for about an hour. That’s all.”

Jeong-in couldn’t refuse. Not when part of him still desperately wished that Ho-jin wouldn’t end up like him.

Presumptuously, because he felt pity for Yoo Ho-jin at this very moment.”

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

Ho-jin’s eyes widened, disbelief flooding his face.

“I’ll withdraw cash right now. How much? Is 5 million won alright? Should I withdraw more?”

“Wait.”

Jeong-in quickly grabbed Ho-jin as he was about to jump up from his seat. Avoiding Ho-jin’s radiant smile, his gaze dropped to scan Ho-jin’s physique.

As expected from a swimmer, his shoulders were broad. Jeong-in didn’t know what was under his clothes, but even at a glance, all his muscles looked perfectly conditioned. His arms and legs were long and lean, likely more from natural proportions than training, and though his knuckles weren’t particularly thick, his hands were large.

Given his lifetime of training, his strength was undoubtedly excellent. And considering the nature of his sport, he probably didn’t tire easily either.

“…Forget the money.”

The hesitation was brief. Jeong-in wondered if it was okay to drag an athlete, whose job depended on his body, into physical labor. But then again, if Ho-jin planned to exploit a non-athlete for his training, then it went both ways.

Jeong-in let out a short sigh and said, “Help me out, too.”

No matter how he looked at it, putting Ho-jin to work on the garden would make the backbreaking labor infinitely easier.