OPEN.
the grass in the gaenari oval is defiantly green, even as the foliage surrounding the stadium metamorphoses into shades of vibrant red and orange, then sickly yellow. jungwon has never cared much for the seasons, or the change in temperature which causes the ground to feel soggy and slippery under his feet.
it's a cliché in and of itself that he finds himself here, outside of practice hours, to pass time in a way that is at least marginally useful. he used to think it was bullshit when people talked about being alone with their thoughts, now he's not so sure.
there's a degree of freedom to working alone as well. he gets bored eventually, with, switches from doing drills to passing aimlessly around the empty field, and finally dissolving the tension by shooting as hard as he can, in any direction really, just to get out of his own head.
only as he watches the ball soar, over the stands and then past his field of view, he realizes that he's not completely alone. someone happens to pass by the oval, oblivious to the rogue football hurdling right above them, and jungwon groans at the interruption– and the irony of the whole thing in general.
"hey!" he calls out, removing his headphones with one hand and waving overhead with the other. "can you pass that back?" it's a demand more so than a friendly inquiry, but he does his best to put on a friendly face. it'd be a long walk to go look in the shrubs all by himself. "or uh, throw it!"
