147. Then and Now -1
“Shall I give you more rice?”
“Ah, no. I’m fine.”
“Why aren’t you eating more? You’re not already full, are you?”
“···”
At Jiwoo’s mother’s question, I simply force an awkward smile.
I don’t know why she said “already···”
I feel like I’ve already eaten two bowls of rice. And they were heaping bowls, packed down tight.
More than full, it feels like I might burst, but her gaze somehow suggests she’d be disappointed if I said I couldn’t eat any more.
As I fidget with my chopsticks for no reason, Jiwoo, who was beside me, covers for me.
“Mom. He has to manage his diet. He’s already eaten a lot—what do you mean give him more?”
“Hm? Diet management?”
“Yeah. Normally he doesn’t even eat stuff this sweet or salty. He only ate it because you made it.”
“Oh my. I just thought athletes had to eat a lot unconditionally. You should have said something, Jian.”
“Ah, no. I enjoyed it all.”
“But it was delicious, right?”
“Yes, it was really delicious. All of it···”
This isn’t something I’m saying just because I’m watching her reaction; everything my chopsticks touched was genuinely delicious.
I realized Jiwoo wasn’t good at cooking for nothing.
I wonder if cooking skill is genetic too—does that mean my dad would have been good at soccer if he’d played?
···Even Dad, uncharacteristically, had already cleared two bowls.
“Wow, look at her. She’s already fussing over you?”
“···What are you talking about.”
“In Italy, do you manage his diet and everything? How do you know so well?”
Um··· I’m not quite sure how I should address her.
When one of Jiwoo’s older sisters spoke, Jiwoo scoffed.
“Well, whatever, the owner said I could use the kitchen, so I practiced and made it for him. It’s a bit awkward to freely use the kitchen at a boarding house, right?”
“Ooh, then doesn’t that mean you two are basically···”
“Hey, hey. What are you trying to say in front of the kids. Watch your mouth.”
“What. What did you think I was going to say? I just meant you two are no different from family.”
Actually, from the moment I entered the house··· being here with Jiwoo’s family, I feel like my energy is being drained in real-time.
We’d barely done anything, just eaten. Yet I felt like my stamina was depleted, as if I’d played an entire first half.
The reason was simple: there were multiple Jiwoos.
First, there was the real Kim Jiwoo.
Then a Kim Jiwoo slightly older than Jiwoo, another slightly older Kim Jiwoo, and a much older Kim Jiwoo.
In appearance, personality, and way of speaking.
It was a world entirely made of Kim Jiwoo; it would be strange if my energy wasn’t drained.
It felt as if Jiwoo had been divided by age groups, and I was seeing the present Jiwoo and future Jiwoos all at once.
···I imagine Dad’s expression right now looks just like mine.
Dad looks really tired too.
At least Dad had been here while I was in Paju, so he should be somewhat used to it, but it seems he’s still not entirely adapted.
“···Guek.”
Anyway, while I was barely keeping my mouth shut with my stomach full to my throat.
U17 Jiwoo tapped me and spoke.
“If you’re done eating, get up. Let’s take a walk around the neighborhood. You shouldn’t just lie down after eating.”
“···Yeah.”
How did she know I was thinking I wanted some fresh air for a moment?
As Jiwoo gets up first, everyone else is still eating, so I hesitate to stand up first and just fidget.
“I’ll step out for a bit.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. Be back.”
“Hey, let’s go.”
Jiwoo grabs my shoulder and forcibly stands me up.
Yielding to that hand, I get up from my seat as if being dragged along, and only then can I breathe a little easier.
···For some reason, my back was drenched in sweat.
*
“It’s all the same here.”
“Of course it is.”
“Ah··· that bakery. It’s still there.”
“···Hey. Are you going to keep talking like an old man?”
Walking around the neighborhood with Jiwoo for a moment.
I keep looking around at the vaguely familiar neighborhood scenery, and Jiwoo clicks her tongue.
I keep saying everything is the same here, what used to be here but is gone now, so she tells me not to talk like an old man, but I can’t help it.
It’s a neighborhood I used to run around with Jiwoo all the time, returning after a long time.
Walking there again with Jiwoo felt strange.
If things had changed, they had changed; if not, they hadn’t.
Though I had changed—now having to wear a hat and mask wherever I went, unlike back then.
The unchanged neighborhood scenery reminded me of the past, as if I had returned to that time.
“Hey, let’s go to the playground.”
“Ah, there.”
Walking like that while letting out a strange sigh, at Jiwoo’s words about going to the playground, I move my feet familiarly.
There was a playground we used to go to often.
On the way from school to home, there was a playground inside a small apartment complex, and we used to spend a lot of time there.
Though it was a common playground found in any neighborhood, it was a place of memories for me.
“···Wow. This is still the same too.”
“Ah, seriously. Gramps.”
Passing through the familiar alley and entering the apartment complex, seeing the playground still in its place, I somehow feel a sting at the tip of my nose.
The urethane floor, blackened with footprints.
Two swings and four spring horses.
And with one slide, this playground—truly small even to be called ordinary··· was a place where I could catch my breath for a moment.
Seeing that playground still in its place, as if telling me to take a quick breather after a long time, made me feel strange.
Creak—
Sitting on the swing as if entranced, the squeaking metal sound stirs up fondness.
Glancing sideways at Jiwoo naturally sitting on the swing next to me, I spoke.
“Do you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“How we’d play here after school before going home.”
“Of course I remember. You always said you didn’t want to go home, so I played with you.”
What the··· I want to retort, but since it’s true, I just snicker.
That’s how it was back then.
If you went this way from this playground, it was my house, and that way was toward Jiwoo’s house.
This was the fork in the road where we parted, but before parting, we always spent time here.
Well, I mean, we were kids, so playing at the playground was fun.
As Jiwoo said, there were times when I whined about not wanting to go home.
Honestly, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to go home, but somehow I felt regretful, so I asked to play a little longer.
I wonder why going straight home felt so regretful back then···
“Nowadays there aren’t many kids around. Back then, finding an empty swing here meant you were lucky.”
“Right?”
“Do you remember? I sent you ahead to claim the swing, but you couldn’t even talk to the other kids and lost it?”
“···No. I don’t remember that.”
“Funny. You lost us the swing more than once or twice because of that, and you don’t remember?”
···Her memory is good too.
At Jiwoo’s words that keep blocking my retorts, I kick my feet petulantly and pump the swing high.
Back then there were quite a lot of kids at this playground too, but now it’s incredibly quiet.
Thanks to that, even though we’re not the appropriate age, we can use the swings, but somehow I also feel empty.
Like seeing someone who was once the most popular retire and be forgotten by people.
···Hmm.
Come to think of it, I think I have an unnecessarily rich imagination too.
I asked Jiwoo.
“Then do you remember this?”
“What. When you fell forward going down that slide and cried?”
“···That never happened. How we used to play tag here all the time.”
“Ahh, I remember.”
As if recalling that time, Jiwoo snickers, and I snicker too.
Funny thing about her—she was a girl, but her favorite game was tag.
Back then, she was more like a boy than most boys.
“I was faster than you back then. Right?”
“···We were about the same.”
“What are you talking about. I was faster. You always got caught by me.”
Hmm.
No matter how good her memory is, she’s mistaken about that.
Even as a kid, I was faster at running.
It’s just that when Jiwoo was “it,” I let myself get caught on purpose.
···If I gritted my teeth and refused to get caught, it was obvious I’d get caught later and beaten up.
“You were faster when going to eat though.”
“Want to die? I was just faster overall.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Yes, I was. Hey, get up.”
“···?”
“Think we could still do it? Get up.”
At Jiwoo’s appearance of suddenly getting up from the swing and beckoning as if to have a round, I scoff.
Maybe when we were kids, but there’s no way it would be a game now.
I’m someone who races against players who fly across the pitch nowadays.
Yet Jiwoo provokes me, looking confident.
“What, no confidence?”
“···You’ll get hurt showing off.”
“Scared? Scared?”
“···”
I’m envious.
Of that confidence.
Still, it seemed necessary to teach her that too much confidence isn’t good, so I get up from the swing.
At that, Jiwoo runs away quickly and arbitrarily makes me “it.”
“Count to 5!”
“One··· Two··· Three···”
Hoping no passersby see, I count to 5 by the old rules.
If anyone saw us doing this as adults, they’d surely click their tongues, but since my pride is on the line, I can’t do it half-heartedly.
“Four, five!”
As soon as I count to 5, I exhale and kick off the urethane floor, propelling myself forward.
And as if I’m in the middle of a match, I chase Jiwoo with proper running form.
Unlike when we were young··· Jiwoo’s back as she runs away closes in incredibly fast.
“Kyaaaak!”
“Hey, hey! Don’t scream···!”
No, what if someone sees us?
Isn’t this the perfect situation for a misunderstanding?
A woman screaming while running away, and a man running at full speed to catch her.
···I should catch her quickly before anyone sees.
“Caught you.”
“Ah!”
I quickly run up and tap Jiwoo’s shoulder.
With this, the role of “it” passes to Jiwoo.
Now it’s my turn to run away, and Jiwoo’s turn to catch me.
Run away!
“Come here!”
I flee from Jiwoo chasing me menacingly.
“I’ll die if caught!”
I know that.
That’s why I’m running.
With a chilling sensation down my spine, I run looking only ahead.
Then glancing back, I see Jiwoo far in the distance.
···It was a gap embarrassing enough to feel awkward.
Did I run too seriously?
Still, I’m a man, and she’s a woman.
Plus, I’m a soccer player.
Sigh.
I should go a little easy on her.
“Uh, uh!”
Slowing my pace and deliberately acting like it’s close, I match Jiwoo’s speed.
Then, before Jiwoo gets really angry from exhaustion··· I let myself get caught at the right moment.
“Caught you!”
If I ran to the end and never saw her again for the rest of my life, that would be one thing, but there was nothing to gain from my winning.
Come to think of it, I think I used to let myself get caught with this same mindset back then.
“Huff, huff. See··· See? If I’m still this good, back then I was··· faster.”
“Okay, okay.”
Seeing her happy that she won even while panting, a snicker escapes me.
“But you should exercise more.”
“Hoo, hoo.”
“You used to be fine even after running like this back then. Now you look like you’re dying.”
“Hey, that was the past. Ah, I feel like I’m dying.”
Clicking my tongue at Jiwoo, who can’t even straighten her back and sits back on the swing, I sit on the swing next to her.
She used to be so energetic.
Seeing her panting after running just that little bit now—what is this bittersweet feeling I get?
I think when I go back to Italy, I’ll have to make Jiwoo exercise a bit too.
“I thought I was going to die after running for the first time in a while. Hey, I don’t know how we did this every day as kids.”
“Well, back then···”
Anyway, catching our breath for a moment—though I wasn’t even out of breath—while sitting on the swing and talking about old times again.
As someone appears in the playground where only we were, our gazes turn simultaneously.
Two little kids··· who looked to be in 4th or 5th grade.
“Hey, pig!”
“What? You want to die?”
The kids who entered the playground bickering soon started playing tag.
The boy teasing, and the girl chasing after him with a murderous face.
“···Funny.”
“···Right?”
Watching that, Jiwoo and I burst out laughing at the same time.
For some reason···
“When they grow up, won’t they be just like us?”
“···Mm.”
At Jiwoo’s words, feeling as if we were seeing our past selves, I nodded.