SPW 65

“Do you think everything will be resolved just because you keep your mouth shut?”

Florian set down the gloves he had taken off and leaned against the mansion window.

“Now you’ve even resorted to brawling.”

Instead of raising his voice, Florian let out a deep sigh, showing no sign of even being disappointed. Sarang, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head bowed, rested his arms on his wide-spread thighs. The backs of his limp hands were scraped from reckless punching.

“……”

The sound of the wind blowing from the half-open window swept through the silence.

And he gets cold so easily.

Florian, casting a pathetic glance at Sarang’s thin clothing, still acting like a child, closed the window. Thump—as if cut off by the closing window, the sound of the harsh wind and the cold draft ceased abruptly. Florian’s eyes, looking down at the clean nape of Sarang’s still-bowed head, were indifferent.

“Sarang.”

“……”

“Was there a reason this time?”

“……”

“Did you run wild like a crazed beast for no reason this time either?”

Sarang, who had been the target of rough tackles and fouls throughout the game, couldn’t hold back any longer and exploded near the end of the second half. Whatever the opponent had done, it was Sarang who threw the first punch. A brawl immediately broke out on the pitch.

Sarang, who had been pinning his opponent to the grass and punching him one-sidedly, suddenly stopped moving. As if hypnotized, he stared blankly, then the tables turned, and he was pinned down and beaten mercilessly by his opponent.

The players and bench staff, who had been engaged in a war of nerves, were startled by the unusual fight and rushed in, but it was already too late. It was the security staff who finally managed to separate them, even when the referees, teammates, and coaching staff couldn’t stop them.

Florian, who had watched Sarang’s game for the first time in a while, was sitting not in the VIP room, but in a first-class seat outside. It was a public display meant to cheer on Sarang, who was starting for the first time in four weeks, and to signal that their relationship was still solid. In a game like that, Sarang had once again run amok like a wild child.

The camera showed Sarang’s angry face as he threw a punch at the opposing player on the big screen, and then it showed Florian’s face in the stands. Then, it showed Sarang’s face, bloodied after he had stopped dazedly and been hit by the opposing player, one more time, and finally, Florian’s face again on the screen.

Florian remained in his seat, showing no emotion, until the farce was over. And with Sarang’s sending-off, he too left the stands.

“Mr. Kim Sarang.”

Sarang, called by his full name, finally raised his head to look at Florian. His face was wounded and gaunt. Florian could no longer feel any pity looking at a face like that. He was more weary than tired. It was an old feeling.

“Last time, you were disciplined for a drug scandal, you were controversial for photos taken with omegas at a club, and a knotting scandal broke out at the same time. The ducal family, and even the Royal Office, had to step in to handle that affair. A lot of manpower and budget is being wasted because of one person, Mr. Kim Sarang. Do you have nothing to say this time either?”

“Rian… do you believe what I say?”

Florian, who had been gazing into the black eyes as the cracked voice came out, smiled. Sarang knew it wasn’t a real smile. Florian, who did not hide his anger even after seeing Sarang’s expression grow darker and darker, did not let his smile fade.

“Are you blaming me right now?”

Sarang closed his eyes. As if he no longer had the strength to face Florian. However, Florian found it difficult to tolerate Sarang being silent in front of him again.

“You tested positive in a drug test. Photos were taken of you drunk and out of your mind at an orgy with omegas, and there were even testimonies from omegas who said they were knotted by Sarang. Mr. Kim Sarang, you have never once been able to refute that.”

“Rian didn’t listen.”

“Because the things Mr. Kim Sarang said were not logical refutations but pathetic excuses.”

“Don’t… call me that.”

“Why did you do it today? Did you forget that I was watching? No way. The fact that I would be watching today’s game would have been all over the news. If you ran wild like a crazed beast to humiliate me, then yes. You succeeded. I applaud Mr. Kim Sarang for blocking even the slightest possibility of repairing our relationship. Congratulations, Mr. Kim Sarang.”

Sarang, who had been listening quietly to Florian’s words like an old tree accepting repeated nailings, pushed his eyelids up.

“Is there a relationship to repair?”

It was a look of bewilderment. Florian’s mouth hardened as he read that look.

“Our…?”

As if the word ‘our’ was suddenly unfamiliar, as if questioning whether they were in a relationship where they could use the word ‘our’. Doubt was laced in his low murmur. Faced with that doubt, Florian did not smile.

“Sarang, Mr. Kim Sarang, you seem to have already ended our relationship.”

“Please leave.”

Sarang, who had lowered his head again, looked as heavy and tired as a tree rooted to the spot.

“Rian… Please, just leave.”

He cut off the conversation by covering his face with both hands, as if he didn’t want to hear anymore.

☀️

It was from a dream he had while in a coma.

Florian, who was dreaming, felt like he was watching the situation through the eyes of a third party, not the Florian in the dream. That’s why Florian’s irrational behavior stood out more. The real Florian would have coaxed rather than berated, and would have given Sarang ample opportunity to make excuses. And he would have tried to grasp the true meaning.

But the Florian in the dream was emotional from the moment he entered the mansion, no, even before that. He could feel the emotion of no longer trying to, or wanting to, understand Sarang. It wasn’t strange that even while observing the situation, he felt the emotions of the dream Florian as if they were his own.

Was it because it was a dream? Florian felt both sympathy and affection for the Sarang in the dream. It was a feeling of fondness. It was not clear whether that fondness was Florian’s own emotion.

Thump, thump.

The sound of Florian’s dress shoes echoed clearly as he walked down the club hallway. The old stadium was grand and classic, but the passage of time remained intact. The locker room could be found after passing through two gates that blocked the hallway. A few people were standing outside the locker room. They looked like coaching staff and club employees.

When they spotted Florian, they gave a nod of greeting and slowly made way for him. The scene of the quiet locker room was visible through the not-quite-closed door. Without knocking, he pushed the door open, and someone who was comforting Sarang by his side turned around. It was one of the coaching staff. Sarang seemed to have no capacity to care about the many people coming and going from the locker room.

“……”

Florian, calming the surprised staff with a gesture, asked them to leave. The staff member got up as if it were a matter of course and left the locker room. Soon, only Sarang and Florian were left. Florian, who had been standing in front of the tightly closed door, slowly began to walk.

Sarang seemed unaware of who had come and gone, or who was entering and leaving. He just kept his head down, breathing heavily. His back, with his sweat-soaked uniform clinging to it, heaved greatly. The distinct muscles between his sunken shoulder blades were for practical use, not for show. That’s why it made it even clearer how serious Sarang was about soccer.

At seventeen, when he had just debuted on the adult stage, Sarang was 16 cm shorter than he was now, and his bones and build were not yet fully grown. It wasn’t just his physique that still seemed to be a work in progress rather than a finished product.

Florian, who had stormed out of the VIP room as soon as Sarang was sent off, replayed the dream scenes that came to his mind. The drug scandal, the orgy with omegas, the knotting scandal. Did Sarang really commit all those acts? Kim Sarang, for whom soccer was his whole life and the joy of his life.

At the same time, the image of Sarang lying in the intensive care unit also came to mind. Sarang must have been living with some kind of injury ever since then. It was easy to guess that the Florian in the dream had not been helpful at all.

‘Rian… do you believe what I say?’

Yes, Sarang. Right now, I have no reason not to believe you.

Florian, who had been silently looking down at the hunched back of Sarang, who had grown taller than him, began to walk. As the distance narrowed, Florian did not hide his presence. Still, Sarang did not look back. He didn’t even pay any attention. He was just deeply submerged in black water, focused only on controlling his own emotions.

Florian stood in front of Sarang. The sight of Sarang with his head down, his arms resting on his wide-spread thighs, overlapped with the Sarang in the dream. Sweat, dripping before it could even gather on Sarang’s chin, wet the cement floor. Florian knelt on one knee on that floor and let out a low voice.

“Sarang.”

“……”

“Sarang, it’s me. Rian.”

But Sarang did not easily raise his head. On the contrary, he clenched his trembling fingertips and gritted his teeth. Florian, looking at Sarang’s taut jaw, reached out his hand. And he carefully cupped Sarang’s chin and slowly lifted it. Sarang’s bright red, wet eyes were revealed. He wasn’t crying, but he was close to it.

“Sarang.”

“……”

“What happened?”

Florian asked, silently gazing at the white teeth nibbling at the red lips.

“Did he insult me?”

It was as if time had stopped. Large teardrops finally fell from the wide-open eyes of Sarang, who was staring at Florian.