MYFL | Chapter 1.6

Seungjae was already wandering around the rooftop, stepping slowly on the green flooring while curiously taking in his surroundings. There wasn’t really much to see. Beomchan pointed to the wooden bench and said,
“Just sit here for a bit. I’ll go grab it quickly.”

“Can I come here and crash when I’m tired?”

“…?”

His hand, which had been reaching for the front door, twitched in midair. Did he hear that right? Beomchan turned back, his face stiff, only to see Seungjae smirking playfully as if he had been waiting for this reaction.

“Just kidding.”

Ha. Beomchan let out a forced laugh to match his tone, but inside, he wasn’t laughing at all. If Seungjae had taken even a second longer to brush it off as a joke, Beomchan might have blurted out something weird in his panic. A guy with a girlfriend making jokes like that—seriously, what was wrong with him?

Leaving behind Seungjae, who had flipped his emotions upside down and was now casually admiring the view as if nothing had happened, Beomchan stepped inside his place. He rummaged through a shelf where he kept various tools and things he didn’t use often, then pulled out the electric screwdriver. After brushing off the dust from the bag’s surface, he took it back outside.

“The view’s really nice. Do you ever grill meat up here or something?”

Hearing the door open and close, Seungjae spoke without turning around.

“Sometimes, I invite the kids over and feed them instead of holding class.”

“The kids must love you.”

Beomchan didn’t reply and simply handed over the tool bag.

“Here.”

“Thanks. I’ll use it and bring it back.”

Seungjae immediately got up from the bench, waved a hand, and headed down the stone stairs. Only after his figure had completely disappeared did Beomchan slump onto the bench where Seungjae had just been sitting, pressing his fingers against his forehead.

⋆˚🐾˖°

The kids, their baby fat not yet fully gone, stretched their arms in sync with Beomchan’s commands. Just looking at their determined eyes, they might as well be national athletes. Their short arms and legs sliced through the air, the crisp rustling of their white dobok filling the space energetically.

“Low block!”

With a loud shout, the kids took a step forward and extended their arms downward. When he made them repeat the movement, one of them misjudged the distance and ended up too close to the wall. Trying not to show panic, the child subtly shuffled backward with a serious expression. Beomchan couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Middle block!”

Amidst the kids’ voices, the occasional whirring of a drill could be heard. The cafe renovation on the first floor was in full swing, proceeding smoothly on schedule. Seungjae had already apologized twice about the noise, but since the sound was somewhat muffled by the floor in between, it wasn’t disruptive to the class. There was no need to feel sorry—especially not to Beomchan.

“Ready.”

“Taek! Won!”

Lately, more taekwondo dojos were shifting their focus from poomsae to general physical fitness, and Beomchan’s dojo was no exception. Younger kids, from preschoolers to lower elementary grades, had poomsae lessons only twice a week. Older elementary students had three sessions, with the rest of the time spent on general exercise and jump rope. Younger children had shorter attention spans, often finding poomsae lessons boring or difficult to follow.

That’s why even on poomsae days, they always had recreational time. Beomchan firmly believed that at this age, what kids needed to learn from the dojo wasn’t just the precision of movements but also lessons in character and the joy of moving their bodies. More than taekwondo itself, he wanted them to enjoy the time spent at the taekwondo dojo.

After sending the kids to the back of the room, Beomchan headed to the office. Inside, there was a small storage space where he kept training and cleaning equipment. He retrieved a large gym ball from the shelf.

The game was simple: he would roll the gym ball, and the kids had to avoid touching it while running around. If they got hit by the ball or caught by him, they were out.

As soon as they spotted the gym ball, the kids started shrieking and dashing in all directions, already anticipating the game. For a while, Beomchan rolled the ball, barely missing them on purpose, and chased them around. Once he felt they had run enough, he grabbed one kid who happened to pass by and lifted them up.

The child flailed in surprise, pouting at first, but when Beomchan tucked them under his arm like a cannonball and took off running, the pouting turned into giggles.

“Master! Someone’s watching outside!”

One of the kids suddenly stopped mid-run and pointed at the door, shouting. Beomchan followed the tiny finger with his gaze and saw Seungjae peering into the dojo through the glass door. The moment their eyes met, Seungjae grinned and waved, looking as if he had been waiting to be noticed.

Beomchan set the child down and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his dobok sleeve as he walked toward the entrance.

“Teacher.”

He opened the door, his breath slightly unsteady, unable to hide the hint of excitement in his voice. He hadn’t expected this visit.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“No, we just finished. But why? Do you need something again?”

“Not exactly. Here.”

Seungjae handed him a white shopping bag. It was quite large. Beomchan had no idea what could be inside. His face clearly read confusion as he held it, prompting Seungjae to nod at him to open it.

Only then did Beomchan pull apart the handles and peek inside. His eyes widened at the sight. The bag was filled with an assortment of delicious-looking cookies.

“I baked a little extra while I was at it, so I thought I’d bring some over. You’ve helped me out a lot, so… Share them with the kids.”

Homemade? Even with his complete lack of knowledge about baking, Beomchan could tell they were well-made. When he thought of Seungjae opening a cafe, he had only imagined coffee and drinks—he hadn’t expected this. Maybe because it was such an unfamiliar skill to him, but beyond curiosity, he genuinely found it impressive.

It seemed Seungjae felt the same. He wasn’t leaving just yet, subtly glancing around the dojo. Beomchan shifted aside slightly and offered,

“Want to come in for a bit?”

“Can I?”

Beomchan gave a small nod. Seungjae walked past him into the dojo as Beomchan held the door open. He slipped off his shoes at the entrance and put on the slippers Beomchan had set out for him.

While the adults talked, the kids had been running around, playing excitedly on their own. But soon, curiosity took over, and one by one, they started paying attention to the unfamiliar visitor. Beomchan led Seungjae toward the front of the dojo.

“Quiet. Sit down.”

At Beomchan’s single command, the kids quickly gathered in a semicircle around them.

“You know there’s a new café opening on the first floor, right?”

“Yes!”

“This is the owner.”

“Wow…” The kids’ round eyes sparkled with admiration as they all turned to stare at Seungjae in awe. Seungjae, looking slightly awkward under their focused attention, raised a hand in greeting with a small laugh.

“The sajangnim brought you guys some snacks, so make sure to say thank you before you eat. Got it?”

“Yes!”

Even though they had looked fearless while training—like they could take down a villain if needed—they were still just kids. The moment Seungjae reached into the shopping bag to take out the cookies, they practically pounced toward him.

Beomchan quickly stepped in, lightly blocking their rush and lining them up by age so they could receive the cookies one by one. Seungjae, unexpectedly put in charge of handing them out, had to listen to each and every kid thank him as they took their share.

Once all the cookies had been distributed, Seungjae followed Beomchan into the office. As he set the empty shopping bag aside, he commented, “I feel like I just got thanked way too many times for something so small.”

Beomchan replied, “That’s how important character education is for kids.”

He added that one of the main reasons parents sent their children to taekwondo wasn’t to turn them into professional athletes.

“They send them here to run around, sweat with kids their age, learn respect and consideration, and practice proper etiquette. That’s what this place is for.”

Hearing that, Seungjae looked out toward the training area, a thoughtful expression on his face. While Beomchan put the gym ball away in the storage room, Seungjae slowly glanced around the office until his gaze landed on the class schedule posted on the wall.

“Each session is an hour long, huh?”

Hearing the question, Beomchan closed the storage room door and walked back into the office.

“Yeah. The older kids manage fine, but younger ones lose focus after an hour. If it goes any longer, it’s hard to keep them under control.” He shook his head slightly as he spoke.

“Do you personally pick them up from school and drop them off at home?”

“I handle most of it, but when I have back-to-back classes, there’s a driver who helps.”

“Ah, I see.”

As Seungjae continued looking at the schedule, Beomchan pulled out a chair and placed it properly in front of the desk. It was the one usually used when parents came in for consultations. Having Seungjae in his workspace felt surreal, but if he was here, Beomchan wanted to make the most of the moment.

Maybe he was being a little too obvious. Seungjae turned around, noticing the chair, and after a brief pause, he walked over and sat down. Beomchan let out a small sigh of relief and took a seat across from him.

Seungjae set a container of cookies on the desk. It was one he had set aside specifically for Beomchan.

“This is for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah.”

Even though Seungjae had already mentioned at the entrance that the cookies were a thank-you gift, Beomchan felt like he had just received an unexpected present. He immediately opened the plastic container and grabbed a cookie from the top, popping it into his mouth without hesitation.

His eyes widened.

“Are you planning to sell these at the café?”

“I’m considering it. What do you think?”

“You have to sell them. They’re seriously amazing.”

“Yeah?”

Beomchan nodded so hard it looked like he was making a vow. He then proceeded to devour half the container in record time. He could have finished all of them, but he wanted to save the rest—something this good deserved to be savored.