Runaway – Ed Sheeran

Chapter Three: Leather

Leather: Refers to how good a player plays defensively or handles the glove.

One month later found Bom stretching her sore body, feeling as though she had been run over, dipped in acid and then trampled upon by a raging bull.

Her right arm had never felt as physically tormented as it was now, and she wasn’t even halfway through the day’s training. Exhaustion reigned over her every step, constantly pulling her mind apart just as she finally managed to scramble her thoughts together.

They were a few days away from their first game, up against strong opponents; the Japanese.

They were no joke. She’d watched all their tapes, memorizing any and every tactic they had, attempting to counteract their amazingly strategic moves that were ninety-percent of the time successful. They had wonderful teamwork, working as a unit and being extremely aggressive with their offense.

Their pitcher had nothing on Bom, though, even Coach agreed on it.

She didn’t know what she could do to help carry the burden off the coach’s shoulders. He’d been nagging at them, unleashing his whole vocabulary of insults to rat out their every move. The past week already saw many of the girls running away during practice, holding their hands to their faces as they sobbed hysterically.

As captain, she knew it was her duty to encourage and motivate her teammates. It wasn’t her fault they refused to listen to her, choosing instead to blatantly ignore her suggestions and going about their own preparations.

She was worried that their lack of harmonious synergy would cause their downfall, yet no amount of inspirational speeches could even hinder her team in their resolve to flat-out destroy themselves.

They were in the middle of a practice game, running over certain tactics and running a simulation when the coach finally exploded.

“You know what, stop!” He yelled after blowing a whistle so loud, it deafened her for a split second. “What the hell are you guys even doing out there?!”

They didn’t dare look at each other, tiredly nudging their foot against the dirt as they looked away in guilt from him.

“Gather round here, right now!” He ordered, and the girls immediately surrounded him, all squatting down and awaiting a lecture that was bound to grate on their already hyperactive nerves.

What they got instead was a simple, “Are you guys contented just being in one game, even if you lose?”

There came no reply.

With a sigh, he threw his hat onto the ground, rubbing his hands against his face in such intensity, Bom thought he might actually wipe it right off. “Then, so be it. I’m done coaching a team that can’t even work together, holding on to their own personal interests. This has gone far enough for me; I just can’t with you guys anymore. Y’all are on your own from now on.”

Shocked couldn’t even describe how she felt, watching as he trudged away.

Sure he was ruthless, cruel at times and most certainly a frightening man to deal with should you make a mistake. He was adamant about things going his way, forcing you to go beyond your comfort zone and rediscover your abilities, honing and nurturing them in a way that would virtually make you indestructible out in the mound.

He’d nagged, lectured, scolded and even cursed their asses, but never once did he resigned to giving up.

“Wait, Coach–” She called after him, standing up and half-heartedly chasing his already retreating back. She stopped after a few steps, watching as he disappeared into the locker room, hands falling limply to her side.

She could hear her team behind her, murmuring in unison with panic.

Hardening her expression, she turned towards them, ready to raise hell. “What the are you guys even doing? Why’d you let him walk off like that? You know we can’t do this without him!”

“Easy for you to say – I’m glad we’re done with him,” Dara, a girl who played as batter, retorted, flipping her ponytail off her shoulder with ease. “You were his favourite, anyways.”

“Listen here, you guys,” she glared at the other girl, staring her down until everyone had shut their mouths. “This is an important game for us. I know we haven’t been acting as a team, always playing to our own strengths rather than as a whole unit. The opposing teams can see through that, heck, even a half-blind man can tell we’re far from even being civil towards each other.

“But if we don’t pull our asses together now, if we don’t work together like we should have always done, we’re going to end up as the laughing stock of the entire league. You don’t want to be the team who loses because we’d already given up even before the game starts, do you?

“We’re the best under-23 team in the whole of South Korea, for ’s sake! We’re kick , and we sure as hell will be doing exactly that if we just put aside our differences for this one league. For some of us, this will be our final chance to show them what we’re made of. We get that trophy, we win this whole championship, and we become legends. Does that sound good to any of you?”

She was huffing by the time she’d finish speaking, eyes alight and burning with a desire to win not just the next game, but for the others that would follow as well. She could see the rest of her teammates, including Dara, all nodding in agreement.

“Then let’s go get our–”

“Park,” the coach suddenly bellowed from behind her, causing Bom to whirl around so fast it nearly caused her a whiplash. “Get in my office!”

“Yes, Coach!” She yelled back, eyeing his figure sauntering away once again. Then, turning back towards her team, she raised a fist towards them. “You guys cool with it?”

 A chorus of rumbling voices muttering assent echoed throughout the training centre. Satisfied, she hurried her way out the field, heading straight to the coach’s office for what she was sure to be another lecture. He never ran out of those, anyway.

“What the , Coach, you stole the thunder out of my speech.” She cussed upon entering his office.

She didn’t expect, though, to see the two little boys she’d picked off the streets from a month ago seated on plastic chairs in front of her coach, happily swinging their short legs that couldn’t touch the ground. Hearing her entrance, they turned around, eyes wide with such eagerness that petrified her a little.

“Imo-nim!” They cried, jumping out of their seats, and headed straight for her frozen body still blocking the doorway.

Being incredibly tiny, they only managed to wrap themselves around her legs, and she was forced to look up into her coach’s amused stare. He raised a questioning brow, a small smirk etching across one side of his face as he leaned back against his chair.

“What in world . . . ?”

Someone cleared their throat from behind the doorway, causing her to look over her shoulder.

There were many questionable things that had occurred to Bom in the past few years of her life. More often than not, they involved her training sessions with the team. One of them had been when they’d laughed over a rookie catcher fumbling over a fastball, struggling to catch it until she landed herself awkwardly in the coach’s lap. It was the first time the team had joked around.

Another was during their first win, when they were congratulating one another by dumping flasks of Gatorade and ice-cold water on each other. They’d never done anything similar to that before, always concentrating on their own work and avoiding any form of friendly interaction.

But this moment right here probably topped everything she’d experienced so far.

The man who stood tall and proud from behind her was someone anyone, anywhere would’ve recognized. His face was on almost every billboard, television advert and broadcast the country had to offer. He was someone extremely loved by the public with such passion that he was hailed as the face of South Korea.

He was the man who cemented the country onto the world map with his worldwide fame for the music he created and unique sense of fashion that sent several renowned designers clamouring after him. His many achievements couldn’t fit onto a list even if it was thick enough to be a novel.

He was G-Dragon, South Korea’s legendary phenomenon, and he was standing right behind her.

“Oh, my god, I am so sorry.” Flustered, she quickly moved out of his way, forgetting that there were still two children attached to her legs like glue.

They fell, a reminiscent of how they’d first met, in a pile of twisted legs and arms that seemed impossible to untangle. She could barely hear the ghost of a chuckle over the children’s loud laughter.

Peeking through her long hair that had gone astray and was now covering her face, she saw an outstretched hand. Gratefully grasping it in one of hers, she allowed him to pull her up, face flushed in a brilliant shade of crimson.

“Guys, that’s enough.”

His voice was hollow, almost robotic.

He wore sunglasses, hiding his eyes. Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt tucked neatly into ripped skinny dark-washed jeans, he seemed far from what a normal twenty-eight year old should look like with his plum coloured hair covering most of his forehead effortlessly.  

He looked lovely, and Bom had to mentally smack herself for swooning in front of him.

The two kids refused to listen to him, though, and she had to gently pry them off of her legs.

She noticed how the younger one pouted up at her, his eyes watering slightly and looking dangerously close to having a tantrum. She patted his head, slightly awkward and not fully comprehending the situation in her exceedingly confused mind.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” her coach’s voice sounded, breaking the awkward atmosphere that surrounded them. “But this young gentleman here told me you did him a good favour.”

She frowned slightly, unsure of what he was talking about.

G-Dragon cleared his throat once again, reaching out a hand to formally introduce himself. “My name is Kwon Jiyong. And you are . . . ?”

“Park Bom,” she said as she mentally berated herself for sounding like an idiot, shaking his hand in kind.

 “Park Bom-ssi, my children here tells me you helped bring them to the police station, alerting us of their whereabouts after they had gotten themselves lost.”

“Oh, that,” she nervously laughed, looking everywhere but his direction. “It was nothing, really.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him about the reason why they went missing in the first place. She didn’t even know he had children to begin with! The past four years had left Bom in the dust with all the gossip and happenings in the entertainment industry, putting forth all her attention solely on baseball. Though she was his fan, she had to prioritise her training over her admiration for him, and over time, he simply became a fond memory.

“It is something, Bom-ssi. If it weren’t for you, my children might not have been found, and I would’ve lost them forever.” Again, she couldn’t help but notice how he sounded very much like he rehearsed the lines he spoke.

He didn’t even smile, face set in a seemingly perpetual deadpan expression that somehow forced a bad impression on Bom.

“Um . . . you’re welcome?”

“My sons were unyielding in their request to come see you once more, and today was the only day I was free for this month. I hope we’re not an intrusion to your training.”

She opened to speak, only to get interrupted by the coach. “Well, you’re only interrupting her from training for the upcoming first game in the world championship league.”

“Forgive us, then,” G-Dragon – or Kwon Jiyong, as he’d introduced himself – said simply. “We’ll be taking our leave now.”

“No, Appa, please!” The younger one struggled to get out of his father’s grip, little hands clutching the air in between his tiny self and Bom. His droopy eyes were wide with sadness, silently pleading for her to do something.  

“Seungri, don’t be stubborn.” Jiyong sighed, bending down to sweep him into one of his arms, eventually failing to do so when the boy wriggled out of his grip.

Daesung was no better, attempting to tug free from his father’s iron-like grasp on his wrist.

She was a self-proclaimed ice-queen, never faltering for events or occurrences that didn’t relate to baseball. She never once adhered to anything outside of the sport, choosing to lock herself up in her apartment whenever she had spare time, reading or listening to soothing music that helped calm her tumultuous being.

It came as a surprise for her when she found herself striding over to Kwon Jiyong, taking Seungri’s hand in hers as she squatted down in front of him. “Tell you what, squirt, why don’t you and your brother come and watch me train? Would you like that?”

She couldn’t fathom why she was acting this way. She never had an affinity for kids, having been the youngest in her family and constantly surrounded by people who were either the same age as her or older. Children were just children, and it hadn’t struck her whether she wanted to have one.

“I don’t think that’s your call to make, Bom-ssi.” Jiyong frowned at her, for once breaking through the mask of indifference he bore so carefully.

She stood, looking up defiantly at him. “It’s my call when I say it is. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, Jiyong-ssi, but your children are apparent fans of mine and who am I to deny their special request?”

“They didn’t even make a request–”

“Coach,” Bom turned away from him, effectively cutting off whatever he had to say. “Would you mind escorting these two boys to the stands, please? I’d like to get back to training now.”

He grinned wryly at her, acclamation painted all over his face. “Sure thing.”

She ruffled the little boys’ hair one final time before skipping her way around an infuriated Jiyong, evading the accusing and unforgiving glare he shot in her way.

Son of a , I regret all those nice things I posted about him in his stupid fan-cafe. If only his fans knew what kind of a jerk he is; he’d be eaten alive by all those netizens. Talk about stuck-up, man, and I thought Coach was bad, were her thoughts as she ran onto the mound filled with her bustling teammates.

“Did Coach blew up, Park? What took you so long?” Dara teased as Bom took her place, stretching her tired arms slightly.

She shook her head. “Nah, it’s nothing. Let’s get this show on the road, ladies!”

When practice was over, she looked over the stands, searching for the two boys. They were seated at the furthest section away from the field, high up in a secluded area where one could only see them if they squinted hard enough. Jiyong sat beside the children, this time sporting a mask covering the second half of his face, alongside several other heavily-built men sitting around them.

The children caught her looking, and frantically waved at her with as much enthusiasm as their little bodies could muster. She gave a small grin and waved slightly back, taking off her hat and using it as a fan afterwards.

Distracted by the two children happily claiming her attention, she failed to notice a set of perplexed eyes watching her from behind the cover of heavily tinted shades.

She also failed to realize how Kwon Jiyong, for the first time in four years, subconsciously smiled a grin so small, it was almost a mistaken twitch of muscle.

But it was there.

And he was still smiling.

A/N: I know it's super late but hey at least I got it out right? ;) Hope y'all enjoyed!