#60

Ho-jae frowned, slowly processing his words.

“What do you mean by that? If it wasn’t you, Coach, then who on earth….”

“Back then, when your mother said she had to discharge your father from the hospital because she didn’t have enough for the medical bills, I was pacing around the room out of frustration. That’s when someone claiming to be a representative approached me.”

“…….”

“He said he wanted to pay your father’s hospital bills, but he wanted it to look like I had done it. I didn’t understand, so I asked why, but he didn’t seem to know the exact reason himself.”

“…Who was that person?”

“I received a business card from that representative. I was curious, so I looked up the name on the internet right away. And do you know what popped up?”

Having said that much, Coach Park emptied his glass once more and grinned at Ho-jae.

“He was a lawyer working for the Myeong-jeong Group.”

“…….”

“Well? Surprised?”

For a moment, Ho-jae’s mind went blank, leaving him unable to speak. The only thing he managed to squeeze out was a foolish question.

“Myeong-jeong…?”

“Yes. The MJ in MJ Blue Wolves!”

“…….”

“Isn’t that an incredible connection you have? They’re the ones who sent you to study abroad when you were young, and the club survived thanks to them now—and even your father’s situation. I don’t know how they found out, but….”

“Did… did that person ask him to keep it a secret?”

“That’s right. He told me absolutely not to mention it.”

“…….”

Facing the proudly smiling Coach Park, Ho-jae let his vacant gaze drop.

If it had been before the Chairman passed away, he might have thought the Chairman had helped. However, his father collapsed after the Chairman’s death.

Someone from Myeong-jeong? The only person from Myeong-jeong he knew was…….

Naturally, only one face came to mind. His chest suddenly tightened suffocatingly. Ho-jae swallowed hard and looked up again.

“Coach, do you still have that business card you received?”

“I didn’t throw it away, so it should be somewhere if I look for it.”

“If you find it, could you let me know? I really… I want to thank them. It’s thanks to that person that my dad was able to hold on until today.”

“Come to think of it, that person probably didn’t even hear the news of your father’s funeral. I’ll look for it when I get home and definitely contact you.”

“Yes.”

Ho-jae nodded.

After all the guests had left, he barely managed to persuade Du-min and Min-chul, who wanted to stay up all night with him, to go home.

Shin Ho-jae stood alone in the empty hallway, staring blankly at the condolence wreaths lined up against the wall.

At the very front stood a wreath that read: Representative Kwon Jung-hyun of MJ Sports. Ho-jae slowly touched the black ribbon covering the white chrysanthemums. It was the side where his name was written.

‘Representative Jung-hyun isn’t a bad person. He was even very cautious about not telling you that he set up the academy for me….’

‘That’s right. He told me absolutely not to mention it.’

Shin Yeon-jae’s voice and Coach Park’s voice echoed and overlapped in his head.

Similar words, similar actions, as if they were the same person.

Was it a coincidence? Or just his imagination?

Then why was his intuition screaming that it wasn’t?

‘I’m quite a fan, you see.’

‘The first time I saw your game was during the Canada youth league.’

If he had really seen him seven years ago during the youth league. If he had truly become a fan back then.

Could it be that he had been watching him even after he returned to Korea four years ago…?

‘He was a lawyer working for the Myeong-jeong Group.’

No matter how coldly he tried to analyze it, only one conclusion emerged.

He couldn’t tell if it was because he had injured his head today and could only think foolish thoughts, or if it was because this was actually the most likely hypothesis.

Ho-jae traced the three characters of the name on the ribbon with his thumb. He could feel the white ink slightly raised.

Slowly, he traced the name again and again.

His chest tightened with a feeling that was impossible to put into words.

Did you really pay the hospital bills for my father?

Did you give me, and my family, more time to be with our father?

“……Just what kind of person are you.”

Ho-jae tightened his grip on the ribbon. The name was pulled taut.

* * *

On the second day, the encoffining took place.

The encoffining ceremony proceeded while Ho-jae, his mother, and Yeon-jae watched. Following the staff’s guidance, the three of them met their father lying in the casket in a separate room.

Dressed neatly in burial shrouds, his father looked far more peaceful than he had in the intensive care unit with a nasal tube. It was thanks to a professional who had refined his face and applied makeup to make him look similar to how he was in life.

As if thinking the same thing, Yeon-jae said brightly,

“Wow, Dad got pretty.”

“He really did…. He looks like he used to, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah….”

However, her voice quickly became thick with tears.

When she read a letter, saying it was the last one she wrote to her father, she cried so much that she was unable to finish reading it.

His mother also burst into tears as she placed his father’s favorite snacks and the photos he always kept on his bedside table into the casket.

The composure the two had shown on the first day had been a forced effort. Ho-jae finished the encoffining ceremony while comforting the two, who were sobbing so hard he worried they might become dehydrated.

As soon as the encoffining was over, Ho-jae sent his mother and Yeon-jae home. He thought it would be best for them to get some rest before they had to move early tomorrow morning for the funeral procession.

He felt reassured knowing that Du-min and Min-chul, who had returned after their match (they had unfortunately lost to the Sakhalin Rats), had agreed to stay up with him.

Though fewer than the first day, there were still quite a few guests visiting the funeral hall on the second day. As Coach Park had said, it felt like proof that his father had lived a good life, so despite the physical exhaustion, he didn’t feel bad.

Once a couple of relatives who had arrived late at night and eaten had left, the flow of guests stopped abruptly, as if by magic.

The number of times Min-chul and Du-min, who were sitting at the table, yawned increased noticeably. It was only natural they were tired, having helped until late yesterday and played a match today.

After some coaxing, the two, who insisted on staying, finally agreed to take a short nap in the small room inside the funeral hall.

“Sorry, Ho-jae-Ho-jae…. We’ll really sleep for just 30 minutes.”

“You can sleep as long as you want. I’m fine on my own.”

“Wake us up if anything happens. Got it?”

Min-chul and Du-min left the room with a reluctant air. Soon, it became quiet inside, as they had fallen fast asleep.

Left alone, Shin Ho-jae pushed the organized envelopes to one side and took a breath. Thanks to the help of Du-min and Min-chul, there was nothing left to organize. Moreover, the condolence money had come in more than expected, so it seemed he would be able to cover all the hospital and funeral expenses.

Ho-jae massaged his stiff shoulders and checked the clock. 3:35 AM. It seemed that the previous guest was the last one.

He thought about getting some sleep, but he didn’t feel like sleep would come easily. It was as if there was still some unresolved knot remaining.

Suddenly, the thought crossed his mind that he hadn’t properly said goodbye to his father.

Because he had been lying down with a head injury, he hadn’t been able to be there for the moment of death, and when the funeral hall was first set up, he had been too overwhelmed by the influx of guests to do so.

Even during the encoffining ceremony earlier, he had been so focused on taking care of his mother and Yeon-jae that he hadn’t had time to have a slow conversation with his father.

Ho-jae stood up and headed toward the front of the funeral hall.

His father was smiling brightly in the portrait. It was a photo his mother had chosen, saying it was his favorite. A photo taken when the family of four had gone to a valley together.

Ho-jae took one of the last two chrysanthemums from the large vase and quietly closed his eyes in front of the photo.

However, once he closed his eyes, few words came to mind. Just as he was trying to force himself to think of something—

From outside, he heard a heavy thud.

Ho-jae opened his eyes immediately. Having heard it repeatedly for two days, he knew exactly what that sound was. It was the sound of someone placing a condolence envelope into the box.

A guest? At this hour?

Ho-jae immediately turned and walked outside the hall. He first saw the hunched back of someone writing their name in the guestbook.

Ho-jae caught his breath for a moment. The man, having finished writing his three-character name, slowly straightened his upper body. And their eyes met.

“…….”

“…….”

The two stared at each other in silence. It was Jung-hyun who broke the vacuum-like silence that felt as if it would shatter.

He gave Ho-jae a small bow and entered the funeral hall. Ho-jae followed him and took his place as the chief mourner.

Jung-hyun took the last remaining chrysanthemum and took a step toward the altar. He seemed to gaze at the portrait for a moment, then carefully placed the flower and bowed formally. Then, he stood facing Ho-jae.

Amidst the silence, the two slowly knelt and bowed deeply. Jung-hyun was the first to raise his head. Ho-jae awkwardly stood up and looked at him.

After a short bow to Ho-jae, Kwon Jung-hyun was heading back outside as abruptly as he had arrived. Shin Ho-jae watched his retreating back in silence. It was then that Jung-hyun, about to leave the hall, turned his head slightly.

“…This is the first time I’ve seen your face.”

His voice was deeply husky, like someone who hadn’t spoken for a long time.

“You look a lot like him.”

Then, he smiled very faintly. It was such a slight expression that one might not have known he smiled unless they looked closely.

Shin Ho-jae chewed over his words with a blank expression. This is the first time he’s seen me. Does that mean he knew my father before?

Without realizing it, Shin Ho-jae moved his feet and grabbed the arm of Jung-hyun, who was about to leave the hall. A gaze asking for the reason touched his face.

“Just a little….”

Shin Ho-jae spat out those few syllables like someone about to say something very difficult and moistened his dry lips. In truth, from the moment he saw him standing in front of the altar, something had been surging up in his chest.

His eyes met Kwon Jung-hyun’s blue-grey eyes. His own eyes were trembling slightly as he looked at him. Looking into his eyes, Ho-jae slowly opened his mouth.

“Could you… stay with me a little longer?”

61 – Puck Drop