#29

“I may look like this, but I’m a judo athlete.”

“Judo?”

The Man’s eyes widened. Whenever Tae-heun mentioned that he practiced judo, everyone reacted like this. Some even laughed, saying, “What do you know about judo?” The Man’s gaze shifted towards his ears.

“Just because I practiced judo doesn’t mean I turned into a dumpling. Of course, I learned it as an adult.”

The the man still looked skeptical.

“I figured you’d think that. It’s a long story, but since we have time, I’ll tell you.”

Tae-heun poured a shot of the sake the man had brought and downed it in one gulp.

“When I was twenty, the first sport I learned with my official salary was judo. I did taekwondo for a short while too. Did I mention that my family was dirt poor when I was a kid? Even when we had no rice and were starving, my mother sent my Hyung to taekwondo classes. I was so envious of that taekwondo uniform as a child. Damn it.”

The the man blinked his big eyes, listening intently to Tae-heun’s story. There was no sign of sympathy or pity on the Man’s face, which made Tae-heun feel comfortable enough to let his words flow.

“Anyway, it wasn’t until I was eleven that I was sent to a taekwondo academy. I got the best uniform too. I think I went for about a year? My mother would scold me for being better than my Hyung. She’d say, ‘Why can’t you beat your Hyung?’ It’s not my fault that guy has no athletic ability. After that, I didn’t do any sports. I just studied. I couldn’t even say I was better at studying than my Hyung. That was how our family made a living.”

The the man looked at Tae-heun with a puzzled expression, scanning his body.

“Why? Are you curious how a guy who only studied ended up with such impressive muscles?”

Tae-heun flexed his bicep and smiled. The the man laughed along.

“It was around ’89 or ’90. There were a lot of big guys at the company I worked for. Those guys would poke and tease me whenever they saw me. Especially the ones who claimed to have done judo; they were the worst. Those bastards. To them, it was just a joke, but for the person on the receiving end, it was no joke at all. I endured that for almost a year. Eventually, I got stubborn. I gritted my teeth. I thought, ‘I may not know much, but I’ll learn the same sport you brag about and get my revenge.’ So, I randomly went looking for a dojo.”

It wasn’t like today, where there were hobby classes for adults. Most academies were for children, and the oldest students were usually high schoolers. Wanting to learn from the best, Tae-heun used his Uncle’s connections to find a Teacher. Instead of doubting his sudden desire to learn martial arts, his Uncle found it amusing. He probably thought, “What can you do?”

The Teacher was a skilled instructor who had produced several judo medalists. When the Teacher saw Tae-heun, who was tall and slender, he laughed. It was obvious that he didn’t look like an athlete. The Teacher thought he would quit soon, but as he started teaching, he realized that Tae-heun had better athletic ability than most competitors. From that point on, everything went smoothly. If he taught one thing, Tae-heun would grasp two; if he taught two, he would master ten. Even the Teacher, who was stingy with praise, couldn’t hold back his compliments.

Tae-heun was ecstatic. He loved being praised so much that even the day after staying up all night, he dragged himself to the dojo. The thrill of throwing someone twice his size, the pride of being able to subdue an opponent without using his fists. He went from being a dull-eyed person to shining brightly whenever he entered the dojo.

“Those big guys couldn’t even make a sound in front of me. It felt amazing. I did so well that our Teacher even told me to try out for the national team. He said if I were just a few years younger, I would have definitely won a gold medal. He praised me so much.”

He also got sweet revenge on the bullies who had tormented him. It wasn’t as explosive as he had imagined, though.

“Later, I found out those bastards weren’t judo players; they were wrestlers. No wonder they were hard to take down. Isn’t that funny?”

Tae-heun chuckled to himself, imagining how he almost ended up in a wrestling uniform instead of a judo gi.

There was no response. The the man was leaning against the door, dozing off.

“Are you asleep?”

From the sound of his breathing, he seemed to be in a deep slumber.

“What? Am I talking to myself again?”

Tae-heun looked at the peacefully sleeping Man. He looked so innocent that it felt almost wrong to let him sleep there.

“You’ve met a good person in Ki-beom. I’m the one moving you like this.”

Muttering words that the man couldn’t hear, Tae-heun opened the screen door and sat in front of him, slipping his arm under the Man’s armpit. The limp body felt heavy. With no other choice, he laid the man down on the threshold and entered the house, pulling him in from behind. He dragged the man to the bedroom in that position.

“If I weren’t drunk, I would have carried you in, Ki-beom. It’s been a few years since I stopped exercising, but I can still lift up to 150 kilograms easily. I could still do it now, but it’s too hot.”

He rambled on.

He laid the man on a bamboo mat and covered him with a summer blanket. The the man was sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Ah, whatever.”

Tae-heun lay down beside him. A gentle breeze flowed in through the open window. He turned his head to look at the Man’s profile. Even from the side, he looked innocent.

Tae-heun tried to sleep like the man but failed. Going to bed early after drinking was torture. Normally, this would be when his night began. He sighed deeply while staring at the ceiling.

“Why did I stop exercising?”

The words slipped out.

“Judo is great. You don’t have to throw punches like those street fighters, and you don’t need to kick. Just grabbing the sleeve is enough to make those bastards fall at my feet in an instant. How simple is that? Don’t you think? But you know, people don’t know moderation. If you get too good, you change. Instead of humility and manners, you start seeking something more stimulating.”

Tae-heun clenched his fist.

“Grabbing the collar is more fun than grabbing the arm or sleeve, and once you grab the collar, you want to punch them in the face. That’s how it goes. I’ve hit someone so hard with this fist that their bones shattered. Do you know how vivid that sound was? And the feeling? I’m saying this because it’s you, Ki-beom, but honestly, it felt better than sex. I couldn’t control my excitement. It didn’t even hurt when I got hit. I wasn’t scared even when blood splattered.”

That day, while hearing the sound of his fist shattering someone’s bones, he thought this:

I could really kill someone.

The only thing that set him apart from others was that he knew when to stop. After that, he never hit anyone with his bare fists again. He felt sorry and guilty towards his Teacher. He realized he wasn’t a martial artist; he was just like the thugs at his company. Disappointed in himself, he distanced himself from the dojo. Ever since his Teacher retired, he completely cut ties.

If he had known how to stop back then, like he did with judo, it would have been better.

Naturally, his thoughts drifted to that family in the two-story house. It was a broken family anyway. There was no need to act that way. If he had just smashed their belongings and hit them a few times, they wouldn’t have felt so humiliated. What Tae-heun did was cruel, lacking any sense of moderation, and more violent than any assault. He had insulted and annihilated their dignity.

“I’m a really bad guy. But I hope Ki-beom doesn’t know. Ji-hye too.”

The the man stirred, groaning softly. His breathing grew heavier. As he turned towards Tae-heun, he furrowed his brow. His eyelashes fluttered. Just when it seemed he might wake up, his breathing settled again.

Tae-heun lay beside the man for a moment longer before getting up. Instead of going to the room, he went back out to the porch.

Standing on the porch, he could see outside the fence. All he saw was the pitch-black darkness.

What a damn world.

He put a cigarette in his mouth.

At 4:30 AM, the alarm rang. Tae-heun frowned as he searched for the blanket, but found nothing, so he opened his eyes. He couldn’t help but think he was crazy. It seemed he had fallen asleep on the porch in just his underwear. His back ached.

The the man walked out of the bedroom and stopped when he saw Tae-heun.

“Did you sleep there?”

He asked in a hoarse voice.

“Well, it looks like it.”

Tae-heun’s voice was even more hoarse than the Man’s, and he had to squeeze it out.

“Go back to bed.”

“I’m fine. I’m wide awake now.”

Forcing his eyes open, he sat up as if rolling. His throat was dry. After drinking an entire bottle of sake without any snacks, his stomach was upset. He remembered taking a shower while drunk. Somehow, he had put on his underwear, but why did he end up sleeping in the living room?

Seeing the man come out of the bathroom, Tae-heun headed to the bathroom as well. After relieving himself of the morning’s fullness, he looked in the mirror. His eyes were puffy. He washed his face roughly and returned to the room to get dressed.

By then, the man was standing in the kitchen. When Tae-heun saw him holding a frying pan, he hurriedly asked.

“Please tell me you’re not making Soy Sauce Egg Rice?”

“I’m making dried pollock soup.”

The the man glanced back and replied.

“Of course, Ki-beom is the best.”

Tae-heun gave a thumbs up. For some reason, the Man’s neck turned red at that.

“Are you working today?”

“Yes.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, I’m going to church. I’ll attend the service and have lunch.”

The savory smell of stir-fried dried pollock filled the air as the sesame oil sizzled. Tae-heun swallowed hard and asked.