MWFL 5

5. My Feelings Back Then

Thanks to Cha Shin-woo cooperating more obediently than expected, the interview got under way without any issues.

Today’s recording was for a sports program hosted by a major Korean broadcasting network.

Usually, the network brought on retired baseball players to conduct these interviews. However, last night, Ha-rin had requested that they swap the host out for a reporter instead.

She wanted to prevent any unnecessary, prying questions rooted in school ties or personal connections.

The reporter stuck strictly to the pre-approved list of questions. Since only topics Shin-woo could comfortably answer without prior preparation had been selected, he responded casually and without strain.

“Over the past few years, the domestic baseball world went through a rather turbulent period due to several unexpected incidents.”

As the interview neared its end, the reporter brought up a question that wasn’t on the script—one that hadn’t been discussed in advance.

“Early last year, you were also dragged into an unfortunate situation involving several Major League players, Player Cha. At that time—”

“Excuse me, Director. Please hold the recording for a second.”

Before the reporter could even finish the sentence, Ha-rin asked the director to pause.

“Yes, Manager. What seems to be the problem?”

The director walked over to Ha-rin and asked.

“That question wasn’t agreed upon in advance. Please remove it.”

“Ah… well, most people are already aware of that incident, and since it actually ended up reflecting positively on Player Cha’s image, I included it on purpose.”

“Yes, I understand. Still, please cut it out.”

Faced with Ha-rin’s firm request, the director didn’t push the matter any further, and the interview resumed.

Last year, a major scandal broke out when a group of Major League players caused a drunken scene at a party.

A severe physical brawl erupted, leaving not just the players but several civilians who were with them injured, sparking massive public outrage.

Shin-woo had been at the scene as well, and some of the players singled him out as the main instigator.

At first, Shin-woo denied their claims, but shortly after, he suddenly changed his stance and admitted to what they said.

Even if he avoided legal punishment, it was an incident that created a massive shockwave in the media.

Because of that, Shin-woo was on the verge of being released from the pro league.

Then, out of nowhere, one of the players who had accused him completely flipped his statement.

It was revealed that a player with anti-Asian prejudice had been behind the whole thing, instigating the others to frame Shin-woo.

Once the mess was cleared up, reporters swarmed Shin-woo, asking why he had admitted to everything in the first place.

‘Now that the truth is out, I have nothing further to say.’

He left them with just that single line, refusing to answer any more questions.

Meanwhile, rumors began circulating that Shin-woo had taken the fall to protect the futures of players younger and more promising than himself.

In an instant, Shin-woo’s image—which had dragged through the mud—was completely restored.

Yet Shin-woo never said a single word regarding those rumors either.

After wrapping up the interview and exchanging greetings with the staff, Shin-woo walked out of the set side by side with Ha-rin.

“Manager Lee is waiting in the first-floor parking lot.”

Shin-woo held his gaze on Ha-rin for a long moment as she pointed him in the right direction.

“Do you have something to say?”

“Why did you cut off that question earlier?”

Stopping in front of the elevator, Ha-rin turned around to face Shin-woo directly.

“When an athlete has overcome a dark time, no one needs to force them to relive how they felt back then.”

“Why? Were you worried I’d quit? Scared your meal ticket would vanish?”

He expected her to laugh as if he was being ridiculous, but Ha-rin just stared back at him with a quiet, undisturbed face.

“May I speak honestly with you?”

“About what?”

“How I felt when I watched you back then, Player Cha.”

Slightly narrowing his eyes, Shin-woo gave a single nod instead of an answer.

“‘I just want to let go of everything.’”

Shin-woo’s fingertips twitched softly.

“That was my personal impression of every single image of you caught on camera during that time.”

“…”

“To be completely frank, it was a personal, biased request on my part for the athlete I have to manage.”

Taking a slow breath, Shin-woo’s chest expanded.

At that moment, Ha-rin moved her quietly closed lips once more.

“To be precise, I didn’t want to look at the Cha Shin-woo who remembers those days.”

. . .

Waiting inside the car parked in the outdoor lot, Dong-goo spotted the two of them emerging at the entrance of the parking area.

He hurriedly got out of the car. Just as he was about to raise a hand to wave them over, he caught himself and scowled slightly.

What’s up with him? Why does he look like that?

Behind Ha-rin, who walked with a calm face, Shin-woo followed a step back with a downright terrible expression.

He wasn’t scowling or looking visibly sulky. But a subtle, dangerous sharp edge—the kind only someone who had known Shin-woo for a long time could pick up on—was plastered all over his face.

Did someone push his buttons during the interview?

I’m just going to pretend I don’t notice a thing.

“Over here!”

Raising a hand high in the air, Dong-goo flashed a completely innocent, clueless smile.

Spotting Dong-goo, Ha-rin picked up her pace and walked over.

“Great work today. Hurry and get in.”

“I need to head back to the office, so I’ll be taking off separately.”

Dong-goo, who was about to climb into the car, froze mid-motion. Only then did Shin-woo stop beside Ha-rin, darting a sideways glance at her face.

“Then should we handle the afternoon schedule on our own? Director Ju, will you be coming straight to the stadium?”

A meeting with club officials was scheduled at the home stadium for the afternoon.

“Yes. I’ll make it to the stadium on time.”

“But the office isn’t far from here anyway. The roads are slippery out, so take the car. We’ll drop you off.”

Shin-woo, who had been lazily fixing his eyes on empty air, stole a glance at the sidewalk connected to the parking lot.

The snow that had fallen continuously for two days had frozen solid under the freezing weather. Despite non-stop snow removal efforts, patches of ice were scattered all over the walkways.

“No, it’s fine. It’s really fast by subway. Thank you for the thought.”

Ha-rin offered a polite refusal and lightly bowed her head toward Shin-woo.

“Why don’t you just get in? You rode in my car comfortably enough earlier, like it was your own.”

Dropping the blunt remark, Shin-woo turned his body toward Ha-rin.

Swallowed up in his large shadow, Ha-rin tilted only her eyes up to look at his face.

“No, thank you. Have a safe drive.”

At the flat, monotone sound of Ha-rin’s voice, a crack appeared in Shin-woo’s eyes.

I’m uncomfortable around you. I’d rather take my chances wiping out on an icy road than ride with you.

Having delivered what felt like a subtle, indirect jab, the woman bowed her head lightly once more, then spun around and calmly walked away.

Ha—. He offered to give her a ride out of consideration, and she acts like this?

Subtly gritting his teeth, Shin-woo climbed into the back seat of the car.

“Wow. Just missing one person makes the air in this car feel completely different.”

Climbing into the driver’s seat a moment after Shin-woo, Dong-goo turned his head toward the back.

In a space that already felt cramped simply due to his impressive physical frame, Shin-woo was sitting slouched so low he was practically lying down.

“If it’s this comfortable, why would I even bother offering her a ride?”

It was extremely rare for Cha Shin-woo to offer anyone anything.

Even though his tone sounded obnoxious to anyone listening, he had tried to extend a favor in his own way, only to get thoroughly rejected—clearly taking a heavy hit to his pride.

After throwing her out of the car earlier, if you tell her to get in now with those lousy words, would you want to get in if you were her?

Even I’d feel too degraded to get in.

“Hyung, I’m starting the car.”

Swallowing his inner thoughts, Dong-goo started the ignition.

Shin-woo, who had been holding a posture stiff enough to cramp his neck, slowly straightened his upper body.

He then shifted his eyes sideways, watching the woman walking far ahead of the car.

‘I just want to let go of everything.’

‘That was my personal impression of every single image of you caught on camera during that time.’

Quietly dwelling on Ha-rin’s words, a heavy weight pressed down on one side of his chest.

I just want to let go of everything.

It was the true feeling of his heart back in those days—something he had never shown a single soul.

“She looks at me like I’m some stone rolling by the side of the road, so what does she think she knows to say something like that?”

“Huh? What did you say?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

Speeding up, the car pulled up right behind Ha-rin as she walked along the sidewalk.

Shin-woo, whose eyes stubbornly tracked her every step, narrowed his gaze slightly.

“Lee Dong-goo. Slow down for a second.”

“Huh? Ah, okay.”

His gaze—which had been fixed on the back of her round head—slid down along her slender frame.

Wearing neatly tailored suit pants beneath her long coat, the woman was wearing low-heeled shoes.

Quietly observing her small feet cautiously treading over the icy ground, Shin-woo slowly tilted his head.

“What is her problem? Why is she like that?”

He then muttered the words in a crooked, discontented voice.