Strategic Mating Partner Chapter 23

The man beckoned young Taehyun, and when Taehyun didn’t move an inch, he came out to the entrance to get him himself. He brought the silently standing Taehyun inside, personally dressed him in a dobok, placed him among the other children, and started with very simple warm-up exercises.

‘Wow, you’re really tall.’

‘How old are you?’

‘What’s that on your forehead?’

Whenever the children surrounded Taehyun and threw questions at him, the man would step in and answer for him. “I told you guys not to bother our new friend too much.” The children would giggle and unanimously reply that they weren’t bothering him, and Taehyun was taken aback by the suddenly relaxed atmosphere. This couldn’t be right. Everyone had always said he was scary, some even said he smelled bad, and they avoided him. Here, being tall was a noticeable advantage, and being strong was something everyone envied.

‘That on your forehead is so cool!’

The scar on his forehead, which he had always hidden, the one he got from being hit with a glass bottle by his father, was treated as a symbol of bravery. After the one-hour class ended and the children boarded the daycare van one by one to go home, Taehyun, left alone with the cheerful man, kept looking at the tips of his shoes and asked,

‘The registration fee… I don’t have any money to pay…’

That was the first thing that came out of his mouth, even before a thank you. Today, the man had told him to come to the dojang when he had time, so Taehyun had just followed his instructions. To attend classes here with other children, he would need his parents’ permission. And the reason he needed adult permission was because everything came with a price; in exchange for taking classes at the dojang, his parents would have to pay.

Taehyun quietly thought of his parents. His mother had most of her money taken away by his father, leaving her with only the bare minimum for living expenses. To get permission to use any extra money, he would have to go through his father. He had no expectation that the man would spend even a small amount of money on him. So, this wouldn’t work. This man had let him in with the intention of increasing the number of students, but once he realized Taehyun was a penniless kid, he would kick him out. Taehyun came to that conclusion and squeezed his eyes shut.

Would he get angry, saying that Taehyun was useless, that he had caused unnecessary trouble? Taehyun unconsciously thought of his father and tensed his face in preparation for the man to hit him. When his father hit him in the face, it hurt less if he braced himself and tensed up beforehand. Just as Taehyun flinched, anticipating the stinging pain, what touched his head was not a fist or a palm.

‘….?’

What touched the top of Taehyun’s head was something much softer and gentler, a fingertip. The man ruffled Taehyun’s hair with his fingers and said with a laugh,

‘Hey, what are you, a little squirt, talking about money to an adult already? When did I ever ask you for money?’

He then patted Taehyun’s back vigorously enough to make his head bob, and Taehyun was so taken aback that he didn’t know how to react. The man roared with laughter at Taehyun’s dumbfounded expression.

‘Look at you. You have big hands and feet, and long legs. That’s a very rare talent. If you keep training from now on, you might even become like Choi Sungkyun! It’d be a real waste for a kid like you not to start now.’

Choi Sungkyun was a name Taehyun had heard before. He was the Taekwondo athlete who won the gold medal at the last Olympics, whose interview scenes had been shown a few times on the TV his father watched.

[Yes, our proud son of Korea, Choi Sungkyun! He has brought such honor to our nation!]

The shining figure on TV, being celebrated by countless people, seemed to belong to a completely different world from Taehyun’s. Someone who had nothing to fear, nothing to struggle with, someone who seemed born only to be celebrated and cheered for. But to think that he could become like that when he grew up? Taehyun shook his head in disbelief. The man ruffled Taehyun’s hair again and said,

‘It’s a waste, such a waste. All you have to do is come to the dojang every day at this time, wearing what you’re wearing now. It’s like a scholarship, you could say. Okay, give me your parents’ number. I’ll contact them.’

At those words, Taehyun’s face paled again. What if his father objected? He didn’t know about his mother, but he couldn’t predict his father’s reaction at all. Would he gladly accept it if the man offered to look after Taehyun for free, or would he get angry and say it was none of his business to meddle with someone else’s child? No, before that, he was too ashamed to introduce his father, whom he found embarrassing to show to others, to this man.

‘….’

In the end, Taehyun couldn’t say anything and just started crying. The man seemed flustered by Taehyun’s sudden outburst of tears and tried to soothe him.

‘Hey, hey? What’s this, why are you suddenly crying? The other kids will make fun of you if you cry in your dobok. They’ll ask what you learned at the dojang. Huh?’

The man fussed for a long time, trying to console Taehyun, who couldn’t stop crying. About 30 minutes later, after finally getting Taehyun’s mother’s contact information, the man went into his office, made a short call, and came back out. The moment the man emerged with a thumbs-up and a grin, young Taehyun had a premonition. That this would be a turning point that would change his life.

‘When you win a gold medal later, you have to bring it to me first, okay? I’m the first one to invest in you, you rascal!’

And that premonition became reality. Although the condition the man had jokingly suggested never came to pass.

“…….”

Finally waking up from his dream again, Taehyun opened his eyes feeling surprisingly light, contrary to his expectations. He blinked a few times, and he saw the same ceiling he had seen before falling asleep in Sejin’s arms. Sejin, who had been lying in the same bed with him, was now gone. Did he go to training early in the morning? Checking the clock, which now pointed to 8 a.m., Taehyun got up and headed to the bathroom. As he opened the bedroom door and stepped out, he heard clattering sounds from the kitchen. It seemed Sejin hadn’t left.

“What time are you leaving?”

Taehyun, still not properly dressed, stood in the hallway and asked, trying his best to avoid the awkward atmosphere. Sejin answered from the kitchen,

“In an hour. Do you want coffee?”

Taehyun immediately refused.

“No. I can’t drink caffeine.”

“Ah.”

The fact that Sejin didn’t remember this meant he really hadn’t been paying much attention to him. Taehyun had complained countless times about not being able to drink coffee when they lived together.

“Just a glass of cold water, please. I’ll eat breakfast at the center.”

The We Sports Integrated Support Center, where Taehyun and Sejin were affiliated, was in the same building as the large gym used by regular members, although on different floors, so there were quite a few amenities available, including a cafeteria. Other athletes complained that it was just tasteless salads and diet food, but for Taehyun, who mostly ate that kind of food at home anyway, he was grateful to get it for free. He wasn’t good at cooking, and it was a hassle to buy ingredients, fill the refrigerator, and then cook and eat them before they spoiled.

“Okay, then I’ll just make coffee for myself.”

It was a bit funny for an athlete of only twenty-two to start his day with coffee, but Sejin, standing in front of the machine waiting for the espresso to brew, seemed to fit well with his characteristic delicate image. Regardless, it had nothing to do with him, and taking a shower was the most pressing issue right now.

Stepping into the bathroom and starting to reboot himself completely under the hot water, Taehyun was lost in thought again. Why did he have that dream today of all days? It had been so long since the coach passed away. The coach was the benefactor who made Taehyun, an atheist, believe that there were no gods in the world. He wasn’t like Taehyun’s father, who drank like a fish, and he even frowned upon secondhand smoke, worried about its effect on the children. Who would have thought he would pass away at such a young age? Watching him succumb to illness before he even turned fifty, Taehyun had felt the world was too cruel.

If someone had to be taken early, shouldn’t it have been someone like his father? Why did useless trash like him continue to live and breathe somewhere, while the coach, who had changed the lives of so many children, including him, had to leave so early? He never got a proper answer from anywhere.