a man like him isn’t shown kindness often. in some ways, he gets it. after all, park jaehyun is a two-time convict, godforsaken anomaly with a loud bark and a meaner bite. but there is this way in which one grows used to the things they’re often given. takes it for granted. in the same way, you throw a beggar a spare coin and they think it the world.
suppose it’s why jaehyun finds it hard to hate samjoko’s captain. hating them should come easy to a man like him, rabid dog with an iron leash snarling at any creature planted outside the gated compound of his house. and gangcheori is very much his house, his family, his bed to lie in. but jinsol had shown him kindness at a time when he’d least expected it, two competing players in a game the latter had yet to win. jaehyun there, a reluctant beggar taking jinsol’s helping hand. it’s hard to forget a favour that you wouldn’t offer yourself. that would be hard to reciprocate, even now.
so perhaps it’s why he doesn’t sneer when he sees jinsol in the practice room. doesn’t pivot and leave, afraid to share his own secrets and strategies particularly with the looming rally. instead, it comes natural, the way jaehyun nods his salutation when he locks eyes with samjoko’s captain. how he continues on his path, sauntering into the practice room towards the roll of hand wrap. he plucks it from the table, loops the strap around his thumb and begins unwrapping the gauze around his wrist first. “need a partner?” jaehyun calls out, refers to the dummy jinsol’s beating up as he pulls the roll around his knuckles, between the gaps of his fingers. suppose this is his reciprocation. it pales in comparison to the kind of help jinsol had offered him, but it’s a mountain to climb for the person he is, man as an island. jaehyun tears some tape with his teeth and secures the gauze around his wrist. “can’t promise i’ll go easy,” he deadpans, served more as a warning than a challenge. the back of his neck is bare, absent of the limiting patch.
ft. park jaehyun & @duskterrace's seo jinsol