Array
(
[text] =>
Last Chapters
The scent of disinfectant and the quiet hum of voices filled the physical therapy center. Hyeori walked in with her backpack slung over one shoulder, her school uniform looking slightly out of place among everyone’s workout clothes.
Her eyes didn’t have to search long. She spotted Sooho almost immediately. He was in the middle of an exercise with Mr. Kang, his physical therapist—a man with a stern face but a kind demeanor.
Sooho was gripping parallel bars tightly, his body tense as he tried to lift one leg to the side. His jaw was clenched and a bit of sweat ran down his temple. Hyeori swallowed hard; watching him push himself like that always filled her with a mix of concern and pride.
She knew just how badly he wanted to regain strength in his legs and back.
When Sooho lowered his leg, his muscles trembled before finally stilling. That’s when his eyes met hers. A tired but warm smile spread across his face.
“Hey,” he managed to say, his voice a little breathless. “You’re here.”
Hyeori walked over and placed her backpack on an empty chair. She returned the smile—gentle, to calm him. “Hey, baby. Mr. Kang. Am I interrupting?”
Mr. Kang shook his head. “Not at all, Hyeori. Sooho’s just finishing this set. Maybe seeing you will give him an extra push.”
Sooho huffed, trying to catch his breath. “Or make me forget how to count… How was school, love?”
“All good,” Hyeori replied, eyes locked on him, noticing the tension in his shoulders and how he leaned on the bars. “And you? How’s that leg?”
“Getting there,” Sooho said, breathing deeply before starting another rep under Mr. Kang’s watchful gaze. “It’s more stubborn than I am, I think.”
The therapist nodded. “Focus on the movement, Sooho. Slow and controlled. Feel the muscle working. Three more.”
Each lift was a battle. Sooho’s leg shook halfway up, and he gritted his teeth, his knuckles white from how hard he held onto the bars. Hyeori bit her lip, resisting the urge to move closer. She knew she had to support him from a distance, to let him have this moment.
She gave him a little nod when he looked over, maybe seeking some encouragement.
When he finished, Sooho exhaled like a whistle and leaned forward, resting his forehead on his forearms.
“Good,” Mr. Kang said, jotting something down. “Rest a minute. Then we’ll move on to supported squats.”
Hyeori stepped forward and handed him his water bottle without saying a word. Sooho took it with a slightly shaky hand.
“Thanks, beautiful…” he murmured after a long sip, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes found hers, filled with raw sincerity. “This is… tougher than I thought it would still be.”
“I know,” Hyeori said quietly, brushing his hair back and wiping some sweat from his forehead, taking the bottle from him. “But you’re doing amazing. A little more each day.”
He nodded, eyes bright. Her words seemed like something he could cling to. “Seeing you here… it helps. More than you know.”
Mr. Kang returned and pointed to a nearby machine. “Ready for squats, Sooho? We’ll start with low weight like last time.”
Squats were always a challenge. Even with the machine helping support him, Sooho’s knees ached with each bend, and his still-weak back protested. Hyeori watched each slow movement with aching empathy as sweat soaked through his shirt.
He didn’t talk much, focused entirely on the instructions and the fight against his own body. Occasionally, a low grunt slipped out when the strain became too much. During a pause, as Mr. Kang adjusted the machine, Sooho dropped into the seat with a groan and closed his eyes.
“My legs feel like jelly…” he muttered, his voice hoarse, eyes still shut.
“That’s normal,” Mr. Kang reassured him. “You’re regaining strength. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Hyeori placed a hand on his shoulder—brief but steady. He opened his eyes and gave her a tired half-smile. “At least I’ve got the best cheerleader.”
“The best,” she corrected softly, making him smile a little more before pulling back when Mr. Kang told him to continue.
After the legs came back exercises on a padded table. These were perhaps the most frustrating. The movements were small, barely noticeable, but required strength and control he was still struggling to regain. He tried lifting his chest just a few centimeters, and his whole body trembled.
“It… it won’t go higher…” he gasped, letting his head drop to the table with a soft thud. The frustration was obvious in his voice and in the way his shoulders tightened.
Mr. Kang stepped closer. “That’s okay, Sooho. Don’t push to the point of pain. Try just holding the muscle tight for a second. Feel your lower back working.”
Hyeori stayed silent, watching his face. The internal battle was clear—the gap between his will and what his body could do. It hurt to see him like this, so vulnerable. But her admiration for his determination only grew.
Sooho tried again. And again. His breathing was quick, labored. Finally, he managed a few reps that Mr. Kang approved.
“That’s enough for this one,” said the therapist. “You worked hard.”
Sooho carefully turned onto his back, eyes on the ceiling, chest rising and falling fast. Hyeori came closer and dabbed his forehead with a small towel from her bag.
He grabbed her hand—his fingers cool and slightly damp. “Thank you, love.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” she said, squeezing his hand gently.
“I think Mr. Kang secretly enjoys watching me suffer,” Sooho joked faintly, trying to ease the tension, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“He just wants you to get strong,” Hyeori replied, offering calm through her voice and touch.
The session ended with light stretches, guided by Mr. Kang. Sooho followed each instruction with great focus and fatigue. When the therapist finally called it a day, Sooho remained sitting on the edge of the table—clearly exhausted, but relieved.
“Good progress today, Sooho,” Mr. Kang said, reviewing his notes. “You’re lasting longer. Remember your at-home exercises—don’t overdo it. See you Wednesday.”
“Thanks, Mr. Kang,” Sooho said.
Hyeori waited until the therapist left to speak. “You did great, baby.”
Sooho looked at her. His eyes held more than exhaustion; they held affection that made her heart melt. “Thank you for… being here. I know it’s not the most exciting after-school plan.”
“As long as you’re there, it’s the best plan,” she interrupted gently. “Being here with you, watching you fight and improve… that matters to me. I’m proud of you, my sweet moon. So proud.”
He smiled and welcomed her hug, burying his face in her neck and pulling her close before lifting his head with a tender smile. “An ice cream sounds amazing right now, don’t you think?”
Hyeori smiled back. “Uhm, you’ve earned it.” Sooho chuckled—his laugh a little rough—as she kissed his nose and squeezed his cheeks. “Come on, I’ll buy you a double scoop.”
He stood carefully, instinctively leaning into the arm Hyeori offered without making it too obvious. They walked slowly toward the exit, his posture still a little hunched, her pace matched to his.
“I promise I’ll get a job soon… I’ll pay you back for everything…”
“Hey, I’m not keeping tabs, love,” she said, shaking her head. “Before all this, you never let me pay for anything—not even an ice cream. Let me do it this time. Let me take care of you like you took care of me.”
Sooho smiled, rubbing his nose against hers, making her laugh quietly. “Alright, but I’m buying you an ice cream cake with my first paycheck. No takesies-backsies.”
Then he looked her over, noticing she was still in her school uniform. “Hey… that sweater you’re wearing… it looks good on you. That color.”
Hyeori smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. She was wearing the jacket he had given her that morning because it was too cold and he hadn’t let her leave without it. “Really? Oh, you should see how it looks on the owner.”
“Yeah? Better than on you?” he asked, brushing her jaw and making her giggle.
“Uhm, I don’t think so… Honestly, you should just steal it. You look beautiful in it.”
* * *
The plan for the day was simple: an afternoon of bowling.
There weren’t many activities that allowed Sooho to participate without overexerting himself while still being fun for such a mixed group. The idea—of course—came from Baku, and to everyone’s surprise, it was met with enthusiastic approval.
Though Hyeori initially tried to decline out of concern that Sooho might hurt himself, he reassured her that he wouldn’t do anything reckless and that he’d be fine.
So there they were, the six of them: Sooho and Hyeori, hand in hand; Sieun, ever observant beside the couple like Juntae; and the inseparable duo, Baku and Gotak.
The bus ride had been a symphony of laughter and witty remarks, mostly courtesy of Baku’s wild imagination and Gotak’s drier but equally sharp humor. Sooho found himself genuinely smiling the entire way. He was still getting to know Baku and Gotak, but their energy together was infectious, never forced.
He liked them.
The bowling alley smelled like freshly disinfected shoes and something close to burnt popcorn. While everyone changed into bowling shoes, Sooho sat down and took his time. Every movement to reach his laces was deliberate. Bending over was still a challenge, but he didn’t want to show it. Hyeori sat next to him, fidgeting with her laces a bit too long, subtly giving him space. On the other side, Sieun just smiled slightly at the quiet way they supported each other.
“Well, well, well! Ready for the beating I’m about to give you all?” Baku announced, grinning ear to ear. He didn’t shout—it was more of a dramatic boast with fake humility that made several people laugh. “Loser buys the next round of sodas. And by ‘loser’ I mean anyone who’s not me or my personal strike machine, Gotak.”
Gotak, stretching like he was about to enter the Olympics, gave Baku a playful elbow. “Don’t count your strikes before you throw, man. Could be an off day.”
Hyeori laughed. “Let’s play for honor, okay? That way no one’s wallet suffers.”
“I’m starting! And just so you know, I’m using the heaviest ball to give you all a head start!”
They settled onto a lane. Sooho eyed the colorful balls with quiet frustration. It had been years since he last bowled, and now the idea of lifting one and throwing it with enough force seemed almost impossible.
“Take it easy, hyung,” Juntae whispered gently. “There are lighter balls on the far rack. But if you’re not ready, you don’t have to.”
“Thanks, Juntae-ah,” Sooho replied, grateful for the thoughtfulness.
Baku was the first to bowl. He strutted up like a pro, added a few dramatic flourishes, and sent the ball flying—straight into the gutter. Everyone burst out laughing, especially Gotak.
“That was to give you hope! I didn’t want to crush your spirits too early.”
Gotak went next. He chose a medium-weight ball, took a moment to focus, and launched it with smooth precision. Strike!
“Boom!” Baku shouted, not even surprised. “Told you! This guy’s a legend! High five, champ!”
Gotak grinned, slapped his hand, then turned to the group with a playful smirk. “Pure luck, I swear.”
Hyeori bowled next, knocking down four pins, and still celebrated like she’d won a world championship. Juntae and the others clapped along. Sieun watched with a subtle smile—it was nice seeing her so carefree. For a moment, the weight of the past few months seemed lighter on her shoulders.
When it was Sooho’s turn, he picked the lightest ball he could find—a blinding yellow one. He walked to the line carefully, every step reminding him of his limits. He tried to focus, remember his form, but his legs didn’t cooperate, and his back ached in silent protest. The ball veered dramatically and hit just one lonely pin that wobbled like it was mocking him.
Baku came over. “Don’t worry, Sooho. Everyone starts out looking like a dizzy duck. You just need to find your… flow!” He wiggled his hands in a silly wave.
As the game went on, Sooho started to feel more relaxed around Baku and Gotak. Baku cracked jokes constantly but never maliciously. Gotak wasn’t quiet at all—he joined in the teasing with blunt but hilarious comments and hyped everyone up with genuine enthusiasm.
Sooho was watching Gotak’s form during a spare attempt. “You’ve got great balance,” he said. “You must’ve played sports.”
Gotak shrugged but smiled. “A bit of everything, you know, to stay sharp. Hey, hyung…” he suddenly asked, glancing at the bench, a little shy, “You wouldn’t happen to be the sunbae who used to help Master Choi at the taekwondo dojang near Mokjo, would you? Like, a few years ago?”
Sooho froze, glancing at Hyeori like that would help jog his memory. Then his face lit up with surprise. “Yes! That was me! I helped out as an assistant instructor for a while, mostly with lower belt groups. Did you train there?”
“Yeah!” Gotak said, eyes wide with recognition. “You were awesome, hyung! I still remember that spinning kick class you did. It blew me away. We all wanted to be like you.”
The unexpected connection relaxed Sooho even more. They started chatting about techniques and stories from the dojang. Sooho remembered how much he loved teaching, the satisfaction of seeing someone improve. Gotak told him he still practiced some of those moves. Hyeori listened with a smile, happy to see Sooho so animated. Even Sieun seemed pleased to see his friend connecting with others.
That’s when Hyeori noticed the girl at the next lane. It wasn’t the first time their eyes had met, but now the girl was openly staring at Sooho. She was slim, light brown hair, and wide curious eyes. Every time Sooho smiled or said something, she watched him and then whispered to her friend, who giggled in response.
A strange weight settled on Hyeori’s chest—a new, unpleasant sensation. Was this jealousy? She hadn’t felt it in so long, if ever, with such intensity. She trusted Sooho completely, but the girl’s persistence stirred something in her.
Quietly, she moved closer to Sooho, slipping her hand down his arm and intertwining their fingers. Sooho, deep in a conversation about self-defense techniques with Gotak, simply smiled and squeezed her hand in return—a casual but meaningful gesture to Hyeori.
The game continued. The girl, clearly not giving up, got up “coincidentally” at the same time Sooho approached the ball rack for his next turn. She stepped into his path with a shy but deliberate smile.
“Hi,” she said softly. “You look really focused.”
Sooho, a bit caught off guard, looked at her politely. “Oh, hi. Yeah, just trying not to launch the ball into the wrong lane.”
She laughed lightly. “I’m Surin. I’m terrible at this, honestly. Do you bowl often?”
From the seating area, Hyeori watched with tight lips. Baku and Gotak exchanged a quick glance and barely-there grin. Sieun, ever observant, tracked the situation closely—especially how tense Hyeori had gotten. Juntae, thankfully, was arguing with the score screen about a missing pin.
“Not really,” Sooho answered, maintaining a kind but distant tone. He could feel Hyeori’s tension without even looking. “This is a special occasion with friends.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Surin said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “I saw you throw earlier, and even if you say you don’t play much, you seem to have a good eye. I can’t get my ball to go straight. Any secret tips?”
Sooho sighed inwardly. He didn’t want to be rude, but this was getting uncomfortable. He glanced quickly at Hyeori—her gaze sharp and intense. That was all he needed.
“Listen, Surin…” Sooho said gently but firmly, offering a small smile to soften the blow. “I appreciate the interest, but I’m really not an expert. And besides,” he paused, glancing instinctively toward Hyeori, “I’m here with my girlfriend and my friends, and I’d rather spend the time with them. I hope you understand.”
The girl’s face paled slightly. She blinked a few times, her initial confidence slipping. “Oh. Right. Of course… no problem.” She forced a smile. “Well, enjoy your game.”
“Thanks, you too,” Sooho replied.
Surin turned and walked back to her friend, who immediately began whispering, likely asking what happened. Sooho picked up his ball and returned to the group, fully aware of Baku and Gotak’s curious glances.
Hyeori didn’t say anything, but the moment Sooho sat down, she leaned against him, and the tension in her shoulders eased. He draped an arm around her, pulling her in close.
“So our Sooho’s a heartbreaker, huh?” Baku teased quietly. “Even mid-recovery, still a total catch.”
Hyeori kissed Sooho’s cheek quickly. “Leave my boyfriend alone. Go bowl before you end up paying for our ice cream.”
The rest of the game played out in a more relaxed vibe. Hyeori still threw occasional glances at Surin’s lane, just to be sure. But the girl didn’t look over again.
Meanwhile, Sieun kept his eyes on Hyeori and Sooho. He saw her laugh hard at Baku’s imitation of a pro bowler, argue passionately with Gotak about the best martial arts movie, and hold Sooho’s hand with a joy he hadn’t seen in a long time.
She was coming back. The strong, joyful, lively Hyeori was fighting to surface again—and she was winning.
[text_hash] => c2f133a1
)