Strategic Mating Partner Chapter 63

Twenty-two, twenty-eight, early summer, 28°C

The next day, training for the Olympics resumed as if nothing had happened. Sejin, who had reluctantly participated in just one mandatory event, had only a hamburger voucher as his reward, but it seemed other athletes had fared better. Some had received sponsorships from major fast-food chains, large electronics companies, or retail chains, walking away with appliances like washing machines or TVs. Dongchul was a prime example.

“Will they do this again? It’d be great if they held something like this for the Asian Games too.”

The event Dongchul won a prize in was transferring beans with chopsticks. He’d earned a washing machine just by moving beans quickly enough to become champion, so it was no wonder he was motivated. Sejin didn’t care much either way. Other athletes seemed satisfied too, with prizes like 100,000-won gift cards for major supermarkets or other rewards that weren’t bad for a day of light exercise.

Soon, Sejin heard from Seryoung, to the point of it being drilled into his ears, that the mastermind behind it all was none other than Taehyun. With a routine of waking up at 6 a.m. and being forced to sleep by 10 p.m., it seemed the only joy in Seryoung’s life was teasing Sejin.

“The café that gave out gift cards, the hamburger place, and the supermarket—they’re all companies Taehyun oppa is advertising for.”

When Sejin looked it up, it was true. Taehyun’s face was plastered on a huge banner with the Korean flag and the catchphrase, “This weekend’s sale champion is ○○ Mart!” The cupholder from the café Taehyun endorsed featured a picture of him smiling and holding out a cake. The hamburger chain was no different. The more Sejin learned about Taehyun, the more he realized Taehyun lived in a completely different world from his own. Even though just a few weeks ago, they had spent most of their days together.

“…….”

There were still many things Sejin couldn’t understand. Why? Why did someone like that pay so much attention to him? The question, which he couldn’t shake off despite trying, was answered not long after.

“Taehyun oppa is always like that. He’s not just nice to you—he’s nice to everyone, so he gets confessed to all the time. Everyone thinks he’s only nice to them.”

Seryoung’s playful tone made Sejin’s face flush. But was anyone that caring? Wasn’t that a bit much? As he kept tilting his head in confusion, he was shocked to hear a story from a few years ago about Taehyun letting a struggling junior stay at his place, setting up a blanket for them and sharing meals. Sejin had never been to Taehyun’s apartment. On the other hand, Taehyun had been to Sejin’s dorm. For Sejin, Taehyun was the only person he was that close to, but the fact that Taehyun had been just as kind to countless others felt like a shocking blow for reasons he couldn’t fathom.

“It’s like a tragedy…”

Sejin crouched alone, ruffling his hair in frustration. Seryoung, watching him, laughed.

“Why don’t you just confess to him?”

“It’s not like that.”

Sejin didn’t know what misunderstanding Seryoung had, but it really wasn’t like that. Look at Seryoung herself—she was completely different from him. Look at her, always trailing after Hyojung, desperate to stay close. That wasn’t him. He was just bothered by Taehyun, that’s all. He didn’t have the slightest desire to cling to him like that.

“…….”

Even so, he couldn’t deny a lingering sense of disappointment. They were using the same facilities and following the same schedule, but with so many athletes at the village, the facility usage times were staggered, so he never ran into Taehyun. Taehyun was surely training somewhere in this vast building, yet Sejin hadn’t even caught a glimpse of his hair.

But what would seeing him do? Sejin asked himself and shook his head. Nothing special would happen just because he saw him. It was just frustrating. He wanted to dissect this strange feeling, lay it bare, and figure out its cause. If he could cut open his heart, would he find the reason? He wished it was something scientific, like an arrhythmia or some illness.

During routine health checkups, Sejin’s heart rate consistently came up high. The diagnosis was that his body was likely staying tense due to the high training volume lately, but that explanation didn’t satisfy him. It felt like something heavy was pressing on his chest.

“If you let that fester, it’ll turn into lovesickness.”

At Seryoung’s nonsense, Sejin silently raised his middle finger with a blank expression.

“Hey, I’m your noona—how dare you act so rude? Don’t you know your seniors are scary?”

In terms of their debut as athletes, though, Sejin had started earlier. Seryoung herself frequently flipped him off instead of responding.

“Hey, kids, what are you two bickering about now?”

The coaches treated them like inseparable siblings.

🤺

Phew. Taehyun stepped off the scale and let out a sigh of relief. 75.9 kg. Thankfully, it was below the target weight. The catch was that it was his fasting weight before eating, but it wasn’t a level where he needed to worry about cutting weight immediately. Taehyun, relieved, plopped down onto the sofa.

“…….”

A text he received that morning kept nagging at him, making it hard to focus on training.

202X Summer Olympics National Team Training Schedule Notice (Detailed schedules vary by sport)

Yes, it had finally arrived. That time. Taehyun sighed and rolled around on the sofa. The coach, watching him languish, laughed and said.

“You hate going that much?”

Of course he did—why would he like it? Taehyun was already getting sufficient training through his agency’s facilities. Until last year, attending national team training was optional, so he didn’t have to stay at the athlete village if he didn’t want to. Still, most athletes headed to Jincheon because few places had facilities as good as those.

Taehyun’s agency, WeAreSports, was a private company with its main revenue from large-scale sports centers. It had two facilities in Seoul alone and over ten in other regions. Athletes primarily used the main branch in Seoul, but depending on their sport or residence, many used regional centers. The company had started as a small-scale hobby project for its founder, allowing a select group of athletes to enjoy expansive facilities.

However, most athletes weren’t in that position. For sports without commercial leagues, most relied on sponsorships or salaries from municipal teams. Even then, training and competition costs often exceeded their income, so many treated their athletic careers as a hobby while maintaining separate livelihoods. It wasn’t for nothing that athletes in less popular sports half-jokingly called their careers a money-spending hobby rather than a money-making job.

For them, finding adequate training facilities was often impossible, even with sponsorships or municipal support covering living expenses. Joining the athlete village was a huge advantage in such cases. The village provided state-supported facilities, including orthopedic and dental services, as well as living arrangements. Athletes could train with cutting-edge equipment without worry. So, it was only natural that most were eager to join.

On the other hand, prominent athletes like Taehyun were in a different situation. Especially for those with financial stability, robust agency support like WeAreSports, or strong team affiliations, there was little need to join the village. The structured lifestyle was a benefit, but it came with a bigger downside.

“…….”

During championships or continental qualifiers, the athlete village wasn’t crowded, and it felt like renting out the entire facility. But in times like now, preparing for a major event, things were different. Hundreds of athletes from all sports flooded the village. While the facilities were large enough to accommodate everyone without issue, it meant constantly running into others in shared spaces like showers, medical facilities, and dining halls. And Taehyun knew a lot of faces.