YHP 25

Jeong-in slowly dipped his ankles into the water, enjoying the sensation that wrapped around his skin. Beneath him was a thick stack of towels Ho-jin had laid out, worried Jeong-in’s clothes might get wet.

“Hyung.”

Jeong-in raised his head and looked up. At some point, Ho-jin had finished showering and was now approaching with a smile. His bare, tape-free body glistened with water under the lights.

“Please don’t sit too close to the edge. I’ll be using the end lane, but water might still splash over.”

Ho-jin stretched his arm out to inspect the towels Jeong-in was sitting on. Judging by the pile, Ho-jin must have brought out every towel he owned, as there were at least ten layers. After flipping over the bundle to check that the surface was still dry, he reminded Jeong-in again.

“If your clothes get even a little wet, tell me right away. I’ll bring you fresh towels.”

“Just go train,” Jeong-in grumbled.

Jeong-in jerked his chin toward the start of the lane. This was excessive, even for Ho-jin. Why waste mental energy worrying about a little water on his clothes before practice? Jeong-in doubted if this person was really the same swimmer the commentators praised endlessly for his focus.

“…I’ll be back.”

Still looking unconvinced, Ho-jin checked the towels one last time before heading to the farthest lane to start stretching.

Jeong-in expected something spectacular from an Olympic gold medalist’s personal training regimen, but there was nothing extraordinary. After some standard stretches, Ho-jin put on his goggles and neatly tucked his hair under his swim cap. Then, with both knees bent, he inhaled deeply and jumped.

His hands, gathered like an arrowhead, sliced through the air in a graceful arc and disappeared into the water with a splash. He surfaced quickly and cut through the water with surprising speed. Despite the raw power behind his strokes, the noise was surprisingly minimal.

In the blink of an eye, Ho-jin reached the 50-meter mark. For some reason, he didn’t turn around in the water but exited the pool and stepped onto the tiles. After dripping for a moment and doing a short stretch like before, he dove back in.

His speed made it seem like this was the main workout, but the slightly different form from competitions suggested it was just a warm-up.

“…He’s doing fine.”

What could be wrong? Aside from the day he’d watched one of Ho-jin’s videos, Jeong-in had never really seen a swim meet, so he couldn’t tell what was wrong.

After repeating the same thing several times, Ho-jin returned to the starting line. This time, he placed one foot on the starting block.

With a deep exhale, his broad, puffed-out chest flattened into a streamlined form. He paused, gazing at the water, then took another deep breath and stepped fully onto the block.

He swung his arms a few times, skillfully placed his right foot on the protuding ledge. Then he bent forward to grip the edge of the board. His center of gravity shifted slightly backward, then every muscle in his lower body contracted at once. Following this, the starting block clattered and foam erupted on the surface of the water.

Ho-jin quickly moved underwater and soon surfaced. His strokes, now mechanical and powerful, were even stronger than during warm-up. The spray tickled the tops of Jeong-in’s feet, just slightly more intense than before as he fixed his eyes on Ho-jin. Jeong-in found himself thinking that swimming was, unexpectedly,  a beautiful sport.

Then it happened. Just as Ho-jin passed the midpoint of the lane, he suddenly rose out of the water.

Standing still, Ho-jin looked back at the lane he’d just swum, then swam weakly back to the starting block. He dove in again and again, but he never made it to the end of the lane. He would swim a little, then stop; swim a little more, then stop again.

“…”

Finally, when Ho-jin stopped for the fifth time, Jeong-in slowly stood up from his seat. His vision cleared, and he could see Ho-jin standing far away a little more clearly.

Now, Ho-jin stood motionless like a stone statue in the middle of the pool, just staring down at the water. He seemed so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice Jeong-in had gotten up.

‘But that day I saw you at the pool, it was different. That was the first time since my injury that I swam that far without thinking.’

Ho-jin had clearly said that—he swam far that day without thinking about anything. So what was he thinking about now that made him stop in the middle of the lane?

What on earth was holding him back, keeping him from reaching the end?

‘There were no other variables, so I thought… maybe it was you.’

Was I really your variable?

 “…”

Jeong-in looked down at the water lapping over his toes. Just as Ho-jin had said, even from quite a distance, the ripples he created had reached Jeong-in’s feet.

Jeong-in took a step back. Then, without hesitation, he threw himself into the water.

Splash!

As he plunged down through the water, his vision blurred. The sudden change in pressure made his chest ache, and his fingers kept reaching upward.

It was a strange sensation. Though he’d fallen into water countless times before, never once had he felt the immediate, desperate urge to breathe like this.

He wanted to cry but couldn’t. He wanted to die, but couldn’t bring himself to. Everything was different from those days when he’d thrown himself into the water, seeking the closest thing to death. Jeong-in stubbornly resisted the urge to surface and sank toward the bottom. Soon, he felt something solid touch his lower back.

He couldn’t see anything in front of him, but he knew that Ho-jin had come.

Ho-jin had crossed all eight lanes in an instant. Just like before, Ho-jin pulled Jeong-in up to the surface and lifted him above the water.

“Haa…”

Jeong-in exhaled the breath he had been holding. Ho-jin quickly yanked off his goggles and cupped Jeong-in’s cheeks in his hands.

“Are you okay?”

Meeting those gentle, worried eyes, Jeong-in suddenly found laughter bubbling up between his coughs.

Then he burst out laughing loudly. Maybe the water had short-circuited his brain, but he simply couldn’t stop laughing. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had laughed like this.

“Yoo Ho-jin.”

Jeong-in gazed directly into Ho-jin’s still-bewildered eyes.

“Do you still not get it?”

As expected, he was right.

Jeong-in said, “I’m not your variable.”

***

He should have known.

He had known all along just how devastatingly beautiful that smile would be.

“Do you really not get it?” Jeong-in asked again, a gentle smile on his face.

Ho-jin didn’t answer. Or rather, he couldn’t. It was because his heart had sunk helplessly to the bottom.

His empty chest thudded heavily. Unable to cope with the ringing in his ears, Ho-jin could only stare blankly at Jeong-in. The corners of Jeong-in’s eyes, curved like perfect crescent moons, were soaked. Seeing that melted something inside Ho-jin. It made him want to bite his tongue and die on the spot.

“It wasn’t me—it was your desire to save me that was the variable.”

With those words, Jeong-in slipped out of Ho-jin’s arms. His hand, bracing the wall to climb up out of the water, was pale. Ho-jin carefully supported Jeong-in’s wrist and lifted him up.

The color of Jeong-in’s hair, which always seemed to hold a bit of light, had deepened, soaked with water. Sitting on the edge of the pool, Jeong-in brushed away the droplets falling from the ends of his hair with an annoyed gesture and met Ho-jin’s gaze.

“That day, you weren’t thinking of anything. You were just completely focused on saving me from the water.”

His clear voice echoed in Ho-jin’s ears.

“I’m sure it would have been the same even if it were someone else and not me.”

Jeong-in tilted his head to one side and gave it a shake, as if trying to relieve the pressure in his ears. Still dazed, Ho-jin snapped out of it and climbed up onto the tiles next to Jeong-in.

“Don’t do it like that…”

He reached out to touch the side of Jeong-in’s face, as he sometimes did for his fellow swimmers. “I’ll just touch you for a moment.”

“Okay.”

Only after receiving permission did he gently cradle Jeong-in’s neck.

Ho-jin placed his thumb near the soft curve of Jeong-in’s ear and slowly began to massage it. Jeong-in’s beautiful lashes fluttered down.

“It’s only been twice, so I can’t be certain that this is the answer… But both that day and today, you had a clear purpose.”

Ho-jin couldn’t help but steal glances at Jeong-in’s lips.

“So, think it over carefully, one more time,” Jeong-in continued.

At that moment, Jeong-in suddenly opened his eyes. There was no sign or warning. Ho-jin saw his own reflection in Jeong-in’s pupils, which shone like stars.

“Maybe what you really need is a goal.”

The hand that had been softly massaging Jeong-in’s delicate ear stopped.