#130

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Jung-hyun stood by the window, gazing at the photo of the bird’s nest that Shin Ho-jae had taken. Just as he had said, three baby birds, eyes not yet open, were gaping their mouths wide.

Cute.

Whether human or animal, it seemed the primary mission of small things that hadn’t yet reached adulthood was simply to eat. Wasn’t Ho-ppang the same?

Regardless, a bird’s nest in the rain gutter. That explained why the water couldn’t pass through the pipe properly and was leaking outside. It was a nuisance for him, but it was an incredibly dangerous place for the birds. The nest, barely clinging to the edge, looked precarious, as if it might be sucked into the pipe at any moment.

It seemed it would be better for both the birds and himself to move it somewhere safe….

“CEO, do you happen to have any larger clothes?”

It was Shin Ho-jae’s voice, having just finished washing up. Jung-hyun left his phone on the windowsill and turned toward the voice.

“Those were the largest ones I had. Are they too small?”

“Ah, I’ll just wear them, I guess….”

As their eyes met, Shin Ho-jae gave an awkward smile, half-naked. Below his handsome face, perfectly shaped pectorals and abdominals glistened, moist with water.

Perhaps the t-shirt he had provided was too small, as he hadn’t put it on at all. He had intentionally given him sweatpants with an elastic waist, but the thighs were so tight that the hem had ridden up to his shins.

It should have been the off-season, but he seemed to have bulked up even more; his physique looked significantly larger than before. Even though there was a height difference of over 10 centimeters, Jung-hyun wasn’t small, nor did he usually wear small clothes. Jung-hyun looked at Shin Ho-jae with a face that couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry.

Perhaps feeling embarrassed by the exposed upper body under that gaze, Shin Ho-jae subtly covered his chest with the towel draped around his waist.

Jung-hyun’s face froze as he inadvertently looked down. Because the pants were too small (the problem was likely Shin Ho-jae’s thighs), the groin area was stretched taut, but the bigger problem was that Shin Ho-jae’s massive member was vividly outlined.

The direction of its storage, the tightly pressed scrotum, and even the shape of the glans were visible. It seemed the fabric of the sweatpants was too thin, and since there was no underwear that fit, Shin Ho-jae had put the pants on commando. For a moment, speechless, Jung-hyun barely moistened his throat before speaking.

“……I’ll see if I can find other clothes.”

Jung-hyun managed a smile and quickly averted his eyes. I wonder if there’s anything that fits. In contrast to his past, where buying clothes he would never wear was one of life’s small pleasures, there weren’t many clothes in this house. It was because he hadn’t brought much from Seoul, intending to retrieve his old belongings left with Peter. Ah.

“What’s in that box you brought earlier? Is it clothes?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t opened it.”

“Then would you mind opening it to check? I’ll look for other clothes. Oh, there’s a box cutter somewhere on the console. Dig around and use it.”

With that, Jung-hyun disappeared into the small room he was using as a dressing room.

Left alone, Ho-jae approached the console where the box had been placed with small strides. He felt as if the seams were ripping every time he took a step, making his gait cautious.

The box found at Peter’s house was about 60 centimeters wide. He unearthed the cutter from among a haphazard pile of mail, mufflers, gloves, and sunglasses and sliced through the sealed tape. Since he was told there might be clothes inside, he was careful to make shallow cuts. As Jung-hyun expected, the box contained various pieces of clothing.

Thinking it would be better to take them out properly, he gathered the clothes in his arms. Since they were all thick garments, there weren’t many relative to the size of the box.

“Is that all?”

It was then, as he picked up the very last item. Unlike the others, the thin fabric of that garment slid through his hands. He had no choice but to set down the clothes he was holding and, the moment he tried to fold it back up, Ho-jae’s eyes widened.

“This is….”

A purple and yellow number 86 jersey. It was the uniform from the Montreal Highlights era.

That wasn’t the only thing that surprised Ho-jae. The signatures crowded around the back number. They were the signatures of his teammates from back then.

Ho-jae’s mouth hung open blankly. Among his teammates, there was one who habitually wrote the date along with the signature, and the date indicated by those numbers was the very date he remembered.

An emotion difficult to describe surged through him. With trembling lips, Ho-jae very carefully stroked the surface of the jersey.

“How about this? If you don’t zip the front, I think it’ll fit reasonably well….”

Just then, Jung-hyun came out of the room holding a gray zip-up hoodie. He then saw the jersey Ho-jae was holding and smiled slightly.

“Ah. That jersey was in there? Do you want to wear that? I think that one would fit.”

“…Who did you say you received this from?”

Ho-jae swallowed hard and spoke in a small voice.

“I told you before that I waited for a long time at the wrong exit to get Ho-jae’s signature, right? The signed jersey a Korean middle-aged man gave me then—this is it.”

“…….”

At Jung-hyun’s words, a stifling feeling filled his chest, and he quietly gripped the corner of the jersey.

“…What kind of person was he?”

“It was night and dark, so I don’t remember his face well, but we talked for a very long time. I remember that every time I talked about you, he listened as if he were hearing about his own child.”

Jung-hyun stood beside Ho-jae and answered in a voice that sounded lost in memory.

“I asked him since when he had been a fan, and he joked that it had been over 20 years.”

“…….”

“……What’s wrong?”

Jung-hyun asked, surprised. Ho-jae wiped away the streaming tears with his hand. But the tears kept falling as if his tear ducts were broken.

Jung-hyun hurried away and returned with a handful of tissues. Ho-jae barely managed to say “Thank you” in a voice thick with emotion, then wiped his tears and blew his nose.

Perhaps because he had shown his tears, Jung-hyun gently stroked his arm with a much softer expression than before.

“…Are you okay? I’ll brew some warm tea. You’ll feel better if you drink it with a bit of sugar.”

Ho-jae nodded and wiped his eyes once more.

The zip-up hoodie he provided fit reasonably well as long as the zipper remained open, just as he had said. Feeling that it would be impolite to remain shirtless, Ho-jae thanked him and put on the hoodie.

Jung-hyun smiled faintly and asked whether he preferred chamomile or rooibos tea. Unable to distinguish exactly what chamomile and rooibos were, Ho-jae asked for the same thing as yesterday.

Jung-hyun took out a capsule labeled Rooibos and placed it into a machine that looked like a coffee maker. It seemed there were capsule tea machines just like capsule coffee machines. The machine, having finished preheating, made a humming vibration.

The bar stool Ho-jae sat on was the same one from yesterday, but compared to the stiff and awkward atmosphere of the previous day, it was much softer.

“Are you not drinking Silver Moon anymore?”

At the abrupt question, Jung-hyun, who had been standing with his hands on his hips, turned his head.

“I heard Silver Moon is green tea-based, so it contains caffeine.”

“Ah…. Caffeine.”

Ho-jae muttered, like someone realizing something belatedly.

He’s being careful with caffeine because he’s pregnant. Ho-jae toyed with the handle of the white mug Jung-hyun handed him before speaking.

“…What is the baby’s nickname?”

At that question, Jung-hyun looked at Ho-jae without saying a word. Since the gaze seemed slightly wary, Ho-jae hurried to explain.

“Ah, actually, I heard from Lucas that you’re pregnant.”

“Ah….”

After a short wait, a cute, rounded pronunciation that he hadn’t expected to hear came from his lips.

“Ho-ppang.”

“……Ho-ppang?”

As he unconsciously repeated the name, Jung-hyun seemed embarrassed and turned his back to put another capsule into the machine. It seemed to be for himself.

Ho-ppang.

“…Cute.”

Ho-jae whispered so softly that Jung-hyun couldn’t hear. He took a sip of the reddish tea. The warmth spread from his esophagus throughout his entire body. He had said he would add sugar, and indeed, the aftertaste was sweet.

“The person who gave that jersey to you, CEO… it was my father.”

“…What?”

Jung-hyun, who was lifting the mug from which the tea had just been extracted, asked back in surprise. Ho-jae looked at him with a comfortable smile.

“Do you remember? I told you that my father had come to watch a game once.”

“Ah…. That person was….”

“Yes.”

Jung-hyun also seemed quite surprised, his mouth hanging open. Then he quickly hid his expression and brought the mug to his lips.

“…What a connection.”

“…….”

I thought so too. Ho-jae answered inwardly, fearing that if he opened his mouth, his voice would be wet again.

The final image of his healthy father. What Ho-jae remembered were slumped shoulders and a small back. It had been a source of regret until the day he left.

But from this moment on, he felt he could remember his father’s final image differently. As a father talking about his son with a joyful face while meeting Jung-hyun. Tears welled up again.

The jersey his father gave to Jung-hyun. It felt like a final word left for him, or some kind of revelation. Perhaps his father had left Jung-hyun for him. He wanted to believe that, even if it was just his own wishful thinking.

He still liked him so much. So much that he wanted to assign meaning to and believe in such a small coincidence.

“…I think Ho-ppang will be incredibly beautiful, taking after you, CEO.”

Jung-hyun, who had been staring at him while holding the mug, answered a beat late.

“I don’t have a beautiful face.”

“No matter who the baby takes after, they’ll be beautiful.”

“…Thank you.”

Ho-jae nodded. He felt ashamed of himself from last night, when he had been ugly enough to feel jealous, thinking the child might be Kyung Seung-hee’s.

What did that matter? It was his child.

131 – PUCK DROP