Chapter 100: The Beginning of Everything

Jitae’s mother was an actress.

Not extremely famous, but with an elegant and refined appearance, she had begun gaining attention from both the public and industry insiders.

However, she met a successful businessman and married early.

With pregnancy following soon after marriage, she had no choice but to quit acting.

And so, as an actress who had almost—but not quite—made it, she gradually faded from people’s memories.

“Our Jitae is so pretty, just like his mother.”

“I know, right? It’s amazing how a boy can be this pretty.”

Whenever neighborhood women saw him, they would always say things like that.

For a child who enjoyed attention, it was only natural to feel happy hearing such words.

“Won Jitae, what are you doing there? Come inside.”

Whenever he chatted with them, the front door would suddenly swing open—

And his expressionless mother would call him in.

The women would awkwardly smile and quickly leave.

“I’ve told you many times, haven’t I? You must not bring shame to your father. Once school ends, don’t wander around—come straight home. Got it?”

How could talking to neighbors possibly affect his father?

As a young elementary school student, Jitae couldn’t understand.

But he didn’t feel much about it either.

Because he knew—his mother loved his father very much.

“Another business trip?”

He slowly began realizing his family wasn’t normal when he reached upper elementary school.

“When are you coming home? You do know Jitae is about to enter middle school, right?”

Late at night, when he came downstairs for water, his mother would always be on the phone in the living room.

Calls that lasted less than a minute—

Followed by deep sighs.

“I’m going to visit your father at his company. After school, come straight home.”

“Yes.”

That day, she had dressed up beautifully since morning.

Even as a child, Jitae could tell—

She was excited to see his father.

Yet somehow—

He couldn’t understand her.

She always complained that his father didn’t care about their child.

But from his perspective—

She wasn’t any different.

“Jitae, didn’t you tell your parents about the open class today?”

After class, his homeroom teacher called him over gently.

“They’re both busy.”

He answered calmly.

The teacher looked at him with an awkward expression.

“Looks like Jitae’s parents didn’t come.”

“But his family’s rich, right? All his clothes are designer.”

“I’d rather wear designer clothes than have my mom come.”

As he left the office, classmates whispered openly.

Jitae simply glanced at them once—

And walked away.

He didn’t feel angry.

He didn’t feel hurt.

Nothing at all.

Even when his teacher tried to comfort him—

He felt nothing.

Leaving school, Jitae kicked his indoor shoe bag as he walked home.

Classes had ended early that day.

The sun was still high.

Then suddenly—

He stopped at a traffic light.

And looked somewhere.

A large, angular building stood in the distance.

He didn’t know why.

Maybe because he knew—

No one would be waiting for him at home anyway.

As if drawn by something, he began walking toward it.

Forgetting his mother’s words.

[Green Tree Community Sports Center]

It was a gym.

A large one, managed by the neighborhood.

Jitae stepped inside slowly.

The lobby was filled with colorful posters, and the halls split in many directions.

He hesitated—

Bang—!

A sharp sound echoed.

Jitae followed it.

Through a slightly open door, the sound continued.

He pushed the door open.

And at that moment—

Someone jumped high in front of him.

So high it blocked the bright lights above—

And struck the ball down with full force.

“…….”

Jitae stared blankly.

Other kids around cheered loudly.

“Kang Woojoo, that was amazing!”

The boy stood surrounded by others, smiling brightly at their praise.

That smile—

Brighter than the lights, brighter than the sun—

Held Jitae in place.

From that day on, his routine changed.

He started going to the gym.

The image of that shining boy lingered in his mind, keeping him awake at night.

What began as a visit or two—

Became a habit.

He told his mother he had after-school programs.

She didn’t question it.

“Next!”

The coach called out.

Kids took turns hitting the ball.

Jitae sat in the stands, watching quietly.

Then—

One boy stepped forward.

Jitae leaned forward.

The boy ran, jumped—

And struck the ball perfectly.

It was different.

Among all those kids—

He stood out.

Jitae didn’t know volleyball well.

But he could feel it.

Watching him—

His heart pounded.

His blood surged.

And most of all—

That smile.

Whenever he touched the ball—

He smiled like someone who had everything.

It was the first time Jitae had ever felt this way.

“Woojoo, next time, instead of spiking—”

As the coach called him, Jitae stared.

Kang Woojoo.

Sharp eyes.

Defined features.

A good impression overall.

Then—

Woojoo suddenly looked up.

Their eyes met.

Jitae froze.

Woojoo looked away first—

Someone had called him.

Those dark brown eyes.

That unwavering gaze—

That night, Jitae couldn’t sleep again.

Woojoo was called a prodigy.

Not just because he hit the ball well—

But because he set it well too.

And when he did—

He looked even happier.

Watching that smile—

Jitae felt at peace.

More than at home.

“Interested in volleyball? Want to try?”

After about a month of visiting, the coach approached him.

“You come here often. Anyone can join—no conditions.”

Anyone could join.

But what excited Jitae more—

Was the thought of being among them.

With Woojoo.

“Come with your parents sometime. I’ll explain—”

“It’s okay.”

“Huh?”

Jitae stood up, grabbed his bag—

And left.

At home, his mother was arguing on the phone again.

He quietly went to his room.

After that—

He stopped going to the gym.

Not because he didn’t want to—

But because he couldn’t.

He couldn’t just sit there and watch anymore.

“Hey, which middle school are you applying to?”

“I’m going to Hoseong Middle! Their soccer team is famous.”

That day—

His classmates’ voices seemed unusually loud.

And for the first time—

A possibility formed in his mind.

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