Battle Wound
Pairing: Kim Geon-woo x OC
Word Count: 3361
Mornings were always a pain for Ha-yun. Her body laid curled up in the comfort of her blankets refusing to budge even an inch to silence the alarm blaring all throughout the room. There were times where she'd hear her next-door neighbors bang on the walls in an attempt to coax her to awaken. It continued to sound as she burrowed her face further into her pillow.
She and her alarm clock were in an intense and never-ending battle that'll last until her lungs could no longer breathe or when her stomach grumbled louder than her need for sleep. Just as she was about to fall back into the land of dreams, her consciousness loosening, another more pressing ring rudely awakened her.
She let out a lengthy groan, unwillingly lifted her head from her bed, sending a deathly glare at her ringing phone. She hastily reached for her phone, not bothering to check the caller ID prior to asking in a hoarse tone, "What?"
There was a voice that came through, it sounded a bit muffled, it didn't help that her alarm clock was still roaring, "You haven't turned off your alarm clock?"
Annoyance filled her being as she weakly reached over to shut up her clock. "What do you think?" She hissed. She never understood how some people gathered enough energy to willingly wake up at the crack of dawn. To her, it was a sanctuary she was always unwilling to leave and anyone who would forcefully remove her from her haven was considered an enemy until she drank her morning green tea. "Why are you calling so early?"
There was a silent pause, so silent she could feel herself slipping back into unconsciousness, her mind conjuring the image of Geon-woo quietly checking the time. A trifling sense of disbelief was intertwined in his voice, "It's only ten in the morning."
"It's too early." She stated. She didn't want much in life, but decent sleep.
"I'm bored." Geon-woo whined.
She let out a long jagged sigh, "Then train. Aren't you supposed to be training?" Her head somehow found its way back onto her pillow, her eyes fluttering as sleep steadily began to drag her back to slumber, the grip on her phone loosening.
"I can't. The gym is closed." He admitted, his voice riddled with blatant disappointment even she could distinguished in her state, "The employees are quarantining."
It was as if all drowsiness left her body as she shot up from her bed, an audible snap echoed from her back, followed by an overwhelming ache. Her arm instinctively reached back to clench her shirt. "Do I have to quarantine?"
In recent days, she had visited the gym Geon-woo likes to train in. Had she been infected by the virus? Does she need to call her boss and let him know she has to quarantine even though she hasn't felt any symptoms? She had tried to be careful and to have possibly caught the disease was a devastating blow.
Geon-woo's voice was frantic, "No! No, Su-jin said we should be fine. They're just being careful."
She let out an exhausting wheeze, "Oh," before a yawn escaped from her lips. She pressed the speaker icon before placing her phone onto her bed, beginning to stretch out her arms, careful not to push her back to its limits. She had done this song and dance before and every time it left her feeling more drained.
"Now that you're awake..." He began, a tinge of amusement slipped through the call, "How about we meet up?" I want you to meet someone."
Ha-yun arched a brow at the thought of Geon-woo meeting someone in some capacity. The thing about Geon-woo was that he was unusually busy to the point where making friends was off the table. He worked a myriad of odd jobs to help his mother financially keep the family cafe afloat. It was a small cozy place that was hit hard by the ramifications of the pandemic just like another other small business. The pandemic had led to little to no foot traffic.
"Meet who?" She questioned, her bare feet now touching the coolness of the floor below. Mornings were her greatest enemy, right next to hunger; it should be a crime to be woken up so early.
He brushed over the question, "Just a friend."
Her stomach rumbled in dismay, "Yeah, but who?" In not one of the conversations they had had in-person, call, or text had he ever mentioned meeting anyone before. Not a single time and granted, it had been a while since they were able to spend time together in-person, but they'd still texted semi-frequently.
"It's a boxer." He said.
She unconsciously nodded despite knowing he couldn't see her movement. That makes sense. She knew Geon-woo had the tendency to be polite to a fault. After every match, if he had the funds to, he'd typically invite his opponents or opponents to an inexpensive celebratory meal.
His opponents, however, confuse his generosity with unabashedly parading his victory. They'd become irked by his genuine generosity and to learn someone had taken the time to realize he wasn't mocking them was relieving. Someone had finally seen he wasn't flaunting his wins, but genuinely wanted connection with others in the sport they loved.
"Okay." She agreed, knowing she would probably hate herself later on into the day. Although, all she had planned today was sleeping in and ordering food, her plans were already foiled.
She moved towards her dresser, its top cluttered with scattered makeup, hair accessories, and other small ornaments. She carelessly opened the first drawer, disturbing the items on top, filled to the brim with her everyday shirts.
"Great!" She heard as his delight was so pronounced as it stream-lighted in every syllable he spoke. She paused for a moment to process the way he sounded: oddly elated. His new friend must've made quite the impression to get him to sound so excited.
He continued, "I'll send you the address. I'm currently going to his place right now. I'll see you there!"
"Yeah, okay." She said walking with clothes draped over her arm before hearing the call cut off.
It was about an hour and a half when she found herself standing in front of a rundown apartment building. There were visible cracks that could be seen from the ground floor. They weren't too big, but still noticeable. The paint that used to be white had long since faded into a dirty creamish color.
She pulled out her phone to glance at the last two messages Geon-woo had sent her; the first contained the address of said apartment complex and the other was a measly 'we're on the roof.'
If it had been anyone other then Geon-woo than she would've just gone home. It was a bit sketchy and it felt like a scene from a horror movie where a character was lured to their death.
Upon entering the apartment complex, her gaze fell upon a small paper sign taped onto the doors of the elevator. As she grew closer, she was able to read the blocky letters: Not working, use stairs.
Dammit. She groaned. Was it too late to go home? The apartment complex had so many floors, meaning so many stairs. She should've just rejected the invitation and stayed curled up in bed. She didn't sign up for excessive and unnecessary exercise.
She sighed before gathering what little strength she had and began her rigorous journey to the rooftop. Climbing stairs upon stairs was an exhausting feat. The muscles on her legs were screaming, she heaved heavily trying to intake as much air as possible, and she knew the soreness of her body would be too real in the morning after.
She lost track of time as she forced her body to continue. As far she knew, it could've been hours since she'd attempted to climb each and every stairs in the complex. She could die there. Geon-woo better have brought food, she only brewed her green tea before arriving, and her stomach was not happy. She needed substance.
When she finally saw light at the end of the, what seemed to be endless, tunnel she let out a relieved sigh. Only a few more steps. She could hear incoherent mumbles as she drew closer to the top of the stairs.
As the tips of her fingers grazed the knob on the door, she heard a man ask in a whining voice, "And when is your friend arriving? The food is almost ready?"
"She'll be here soon." There was a bit of certainty in Geon-woo's voice that almost made her turn around only to prove him wrong, but the aroma of cooking noodles was too much to leave behind.
She pushed the door open, quietly surprised it didn't creak, before announcing, "I'm here! And starving!"
Both men, who were seated on random weathered chairs, turned in absolute surprise. They had vastly different expressions plastered onto their faces.
There was a familiar softness in Geon-woo's eyes even when they were filled with bewilderment. His head was slightly tilted, almost like a cutesy dumbstruck puppy. He had the whole look down to the finest details.
His friend's expression was a different story. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape as if he let out a silent shriek, his cheeks flushed crimson red. His arms were positioned in-front of him like they were ready for a fight despite him clenching a pot lid and a pair of chopsticks in both of his hands.
Geon-woo's face brightened, "Ha-yun! This is Woo-jin!"
The first detail that caught her eye was his short wavy hair. It was slightly longer than Geon-woo's. He wore a black sweater with a sort of dusty golden design, but couldn't quite tell what the brand was from this angle. The shirt beneath was a bright red color.
"Nice to meet you!" She would've reached for his hand, but they were occupied so she chose to nod in his direction. She took the empty seat next to Geon-woo and noticed a large plat of wood laying on top of three plastic crates. There were six empty noodle bags with other used ingredients scattered on the tray closest to her.
"Likewise." Woo-jin's attention was brought back to the soup as he stirred the noodles.
"What were you guys talking about?" She asked.
Geon-woo replied, "Mayweather."
Woo-jin explained further, "I think he's the top dog, but your friend over here thinks otherwise."
"That's because Geon-woo feels like Mayweather is more of a businessman than a boxer." Ha-yun clarified, not knowing if Geon-woo had already given him the spiel she's heard multiple times.
"He's in it for the money, but he's ridiculously good at it." Woo-jin nodded, "Probably made a few hundred billion."
Geon-woo observed him for a moment like he was peeling off layer by layer of his character. "Does money only matter to you?" Geon-woo viewed boxing as an art form. It was meant to be taken with an undying love for the sport, not the potential of making millions.
"What could matter more than money?" Woo-jin interjected.
She could tell he didn't quite understand what Geon-woo was asking. Was money his only drive towards the sport? Was it all that mattered to him?
"The heart of a boxer." Woo-jin erupted into uncontrollable laughter. His laugh, so thunderous, left Geon-woo perplexed. "What?" He nudged his arm, "Dude!"
"No, no, sorry. It's just you got so serious all of a sudden. It caught me off guard, that's all." Woo-jin added, placing the lid back onto the boiling pot of noodles, "Please elaborate on this boxer's heart."
Geon-woo began to slouch on his chair, leaning closer to Woo-jin, prepared to pitch his perspective. "I think Manny Pacquiao is the best example because-"
Woo-jin pretended to throw several punches at Geon-woo, "Pow! Pow! Pow! Pacquiao! Pow! Pow!"
"Come on, dude." Geon-woo complained, "Let me have my moment. I never cut you off, man." He was just getting started, too.
Woo-jin let out a last laugh. "I'm sorry, marine. I'll never cut you off." He promised.
"Well," Geon-woo began again, "I admire Pacquiao's heart, you know? He never gives up." Boxing was a passion ingrained onto him since he accidentally stumbled onto a broadcasted boxing match when he was younger.
"Okay, I can give him that, but Mayweather made a lot more money."
"But I bet a lot more kids started dreaming of becoming a boxer because of Pacquiao. That's true for me at least." Geon-woo mentioned, "That's the kind of person I want to be. A person who shows that with strong will and undying passion, anyone will be able to achieve all of their dreams."
Woo-jin added, "It's windy today."
Ha-yun noticed how Geon-woo's speech must've been too intense for Woo-jin. He always gets that way when boxing becomes a topic of discussion. He becomes impassioned to a fault. Seemingly out-of-character for him, but it was an unfiltered version of him.
"That's a true boxer's heart and the kind of hope we should inspire in the people watching us. A boxer's heart-" He was interrupted again, but still he showed no frustration.
"The food's ready. Let's eat." Woo-jin had lifted the lid, the essence of spicy noodle soup infiltrated her nostrils. He handed Geon-woo and Ha-yun their own pair of chopsticks, using his own to pile noodles into a bowl. He then picked up a ladle and poured the broth over the noodles. "Here."
She was the last to savor the noodles, relishing in the spices added, sedating the rumble of her stomach.
"Is it good?" He asked, despite already having slurped some noodles.
She took a sip of the broth before nodding excitedly, "So good."
They didn't move much after that. They spent the rest of the day talking on the rooftop. It was more fun than she'd like to admit, almost thankful she did leave the comfort of her bed, but she'd never mutter those words to anyone. She'd slowly become accustomed to Woo-jin's humor. He was definitely a personality. One that complements Geon-woo very well.
Geon-woo and Ha-yun left when the sun was beginning to set. They'd opted to walk home rather than spend money they didn't have even though it slowly killed Ha-yun.
"What do you think about Woo-jin?" They had walked far enough from the apartment complex and Geon-woo was curious.
Ha-yun sent him a soft smile, "He's fun. I think he's a good friend to have." Woo-jin seemed like a great fit for their duo, now a trio, and he was able to understand Geon-woo in ways she never could. Those two could talk about boxing all day long and never get bored. She could barely hold a conversation about boxing for thirty minutes before she's just listening to Geon-woo speak.
A piercing ringtone echoes throughout the semi-empty street. The two halted their conversation as Geon-woo pulled out his phone from his pocket, "Hey, mom."
She couldn't make out much of what was being said and she just took it as a sign to mind her own business. She watched as cars came and went as she waited for the crosswalk sign to turn green.
"I'm almost there. Strange people? Who?" His relaxed posture suddenly turned stiff. "Mom? What's going on?"
She sent him a worried glance. He was panicking. She knew that for certain and whatever it was grave. She knew Geon-woo's mother for a long time and she knew how unwavering she was. That was when she heard glass shatter. It was loud enough for even her ears to pick up the sound followed by a petrified scream.
Geon-woo didn't speak. He didn't waver. He ran. He crossed the road without bothering to check if there were any upcoming cars. He ran despite the cars beeping at him. He ran like hell and she followed.
She was beginning to lose sight of him. She urged her already tired legs to accelerate. They weren't too far from his mother's cafe, that's where she assumes she is, but her legs were worn out by climbing up and down the stairs. She hoped she wouldn't arrive too late, hoping to help in any way, shape, or form.
It took longer than she'd like, but the cafe was finally in her line of sight now followed by the numerous grown men groaning on the ground. The windows of the cafe were smashed in and a wimpy man came running out, scared out of his wits. She didn't bother with him though, too worried about the people she cared about.
She ran in without a fuss and saw Geon-woo throwing punch after punch to an abnormally large stranger. He was tall, almost built like a tank, and he was just taking Geon-woo's punches. She had never seen anyone else be able to remain upright after a punch to the liver, yet there he was.
She was barely able to pull her eyes away from the fight. She desperately searched for his mother in the now destroyed cafe and her eyes wandered behind the counter. She ran, careful not to step on pieces of broken glass and knocked over furniture.
There behind the counter remained Geon-woo's mother. She flinched every time she heard her son groan in pain. He was now trying to withstand the punches from the ungodly broad man.
"Did they hurt you?" Ha-yun asked, careful not to startle her too much.
"No." She wailed.
Ha-yun looked out the broken windows, saw the men pull themselves up from the ground, but barely managed to stand upright. They had a slim chance at leaving unscathed, but Geon-woo was losing the fight. More glass shattered and she was afraid to look over the counter, but she wouldn't forgive herself if she allowed his mother to see him in such a state.
When she peered over the counter, she saw a man standing over Geon-woo's bleeding body gazing like he was beneath him. He stood over him, his arms behind his back, before leaning down closer to Geon-woo's broken body.
"Hey." His voice commanded attention. "I appreciate people with grit. Because guys with grit... They can get anything done." She could hear Geon-woo cough. "Do you want to work for me? I'll make sure that-" He coughed more and something seemed to hit a nerve for the man leaning down before him.
His offer died down and the switch up was dangerously instantaneous. His people standing guard outside stiffened at the sight and a pit grew in her stomach. This man was so disturbed his own men feared him.
"Get the girl." He commanded. The air intensified and she stood up to lead the approaching man away from Geon-woo's mother. Her hands reached for one of the fallen chairs scattered throughout the cafe. It was a lousy attempt to create some sort of barrier or obstacle.
The burly man peeled it out of her hands, throwing it elsewhere, a loud bang echoed. She flinched as his unwanted hands reached her. She tried to fight back. Scratch up his face, tear out his eyes, but it only made him more angry.
He threw her onto the ground, her back landing on one of the broken chairs and shards of glass. She wailed as her head smashed onto the ground. Her body was screaming in pain. Was she going to die?
The leader casually walked towards her and crouched over her limp body. She could feel his weight on her, crushing her chest, as tears trailed down her cheeks.
One hand pushed her face to the side and the other held a large blade. She tried to use what little strength she had left to push him off of her, but it wasn't enough. He was too strong, too heavy, for her to even budge. She let out an ear-piercing scream as he began to carve on her skin. Blood dripped down from her cut.
Some pooled its way into her mouth. A metallic taste overwhelming her senses. She just wanted it to end. The last thing she saw was his ear-splitting grin before her vision went dark.
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