Genius Archer's Streaming

Chapter 260. The Memories (1)

"I will win the Olympics."

After that simple remark, Sang-Hyeon stepped down from the podium.

Then, a few other reporters from small local newspapers approached him.

“Would it be possible for us to interview with you? You're really handsome! We’ll give you a big feature in our sports section.

“Please do an interview with us. Do you have some time? I’ll make sure to write a good article about you!”

“How did you meet your coach?”

Many reporters appeared desperate, some even rude, but Sang-Hyeon kept his words to a minimum.

He already said what he wanted to say. And he recalled his coach’s advice about not being arrogant while reaching the top.

He held back the urge to tell them to move out of his way and bowed.

"Sorry."

His coach greeted him after he passed several reporters, "Ah. You're definitely planning on going to the Olympics, right?"

The coach seemed quite pleased with Sang-Hyeon's manners and etiquette during the interview.

Sang-Hyeon wore a somewhat sulky expression though because he wasn't pleased with the compliment.

The coach patted his head while laughing.

"Well done. I've already said it earlier, but you did an extraordinary job."

"Thank you."

He always wanted praise for his abilities, not for his good looks or manners. He thought that only cowards who cared about other people's views would worry about such things.

The coach once suggested switching faces with him, but Sang-Hyeon hadn’t given him an answer to that yet.

"Yu Sang-Hyeon!" Behind the coach, a long-haired girl ran up and happily shouted his name. She wore the same white uniform as Sang-Hyeon and wore a bucket hat. Because of her speed, the hat flew off, and the sun shone on her face.

She got closer and closer with a bright expression.

Smack!

She grabbed his hand and shook it.

"It's really awesome! It's an unofficial record!"

The coach chuckled at her fuss.

She ran up as if to hug him, but stopped at just holding his hand. After all, they were just high school students.

"It's unofficial."

The championship records weren't officially recognized, and the perfect score of tens he shot today already existed in the records from other players. What Han So-Yeon referred to as an unofficial record was Sang-Hyeon being the youngest ever to do it.

"But still! You can make it official next time!"

Sang-Hyeon couldn’t discourage the enthusiastic So-Yeon.

The other team members also chimed in about Sang-Hyeon's performance.

"Wow, Sang-Hyeon. You're amazing. I totally messed up. It's just a talent gap, I guess."

Dong-Su walked over with his usual leisurely stride.

Sang-Hyeon thought if anyone felt content, it was probably him.

"Dong-Su, you don't even practice half as much as Sang-Hyeon and yet you can still compete in the tournament. Aren't you the one with real talent?" Hyeon-Ju, who followed them, snapped back.

She was the only first-year to compete in this tournament.

"Why wouldn't I practice? It just doesn't work, okay. It doesn't! When I was a first-year..."

"Alright. Shall we go eat now?" the coach interrupted Dong-Su and pointed at the car.

"How about some black bean noodles?"

Sang-Hyeon didn't care, but everyone else disagreed with the menu choice.

"What?! Yu Sang-Hyeon won today!"

"What?! No way!"

"Are we North Koreans or what, Coach!?"

The coach corrected himself with a playful expression, "Just kidding. We're eating wagyu today."

A huge cheer rang out.

Sang-Hyeon also smiled widely, not knowing what would happen next.

***

"There's a problem with the brain... it's a permanent disability."

Upon hearing the doctor's words, his grandmother nearly screamed.

"What? Please, doctor! You can't say that! You're saying this... this is permanent?!"

"You might have heard of cerebral palsy. Usually, patients experience this as a developmental issue accompanying cerebral palsy, but..."

"Cerebral..."

"Many cerebral palsy cases only affect part of the body. You can think of Sang-Hyeon as having symptoms similar to acquired cerebral palsy."

"Ah… Oh God..."

Sang-Hyeon's grandmother slumped down onto the floor and began crying.

Why did memories from that time come up now? The beef back then didn’t even taste that good.

Sang-Hyeon looked down at his trembling right arm and wondered.

His sleeve grew so wet that it could no longer absorb any more.

Thump... thump...

Yet, tears continued to fall.

"With dedicated rehabilitation, daily life will be manageable. Currently, his right hand has additional nerve issues that worsen his symptoms. But rehabilitation can address this."

His grandmother couldn't converse anymore. She poured all her energy into holding back her tears, so Sang-Hyeon had to ask instead.

His tear-soaked eyes turned toward the doctor.

"... I can't continue archery?"

The doctor adjusted his frameless glasses and placed a hand on Sang-Hyeon's shoulder.

"No one knows."

The doctor's words were meant to be hopeful, but Sang-Hyeon heard it as, 'No one knows how to treat it.'

Which was also the truth. No one knew, so there was hope... a hope that was like an unsolved math problem.

The doctor couldn't directly look into Sang-Hyeon's eyes and left the room.

A nurse came in later to briefly explain what would happen next.

"Your hospital expenses have been covered by the taxi company's insurance."

His grandmother somewhat collected herself and listened to the nurse, but Sang-Hyeon just stared blankly out the window.

He could see the clear sky, even the texture of the rocks on top of the mountain. His vision was an absolute 20:20 and had always benefited him in archery.

"Can he be hospitalized as long as he wants?"

"Yes, of course, ma'am. Everything is covered by the insurance."

What mattered to Sang-Hyeon wasn’t how long he would be hospitalized, but whether he could continue archery.

"You will definitely recover enough for daily living activities."

His grandmother sighed in relief.

'Thank God that I am alive... alive...'

People kept saying he should feel relieved about still being alive.

'Do I really feel that way though?'

Sang-Hyeon wasn't sure. He never verbally expressed it and probably didn’t even fully realize it. Archery had become his everything.

He lived with his grandmother in the slums and attended school in South Korea without being academically gifted. Finding hope in such a life was difficult, but archery had been his escape.

Surprisingly, he was quite good at it. Only then did Sang-Hyeon feel that the world was somewhat fair. He thought it had given him this modest talent to help him and his grandmother get by.

He thought... there was always a way to survive in this world.

"But... the rehabilitation treatment for a sports career will not be covered by the insurance," the nurse steered the conversation toward the main point.

Sang-Hyeon wasn't sure if he should continue archery anymore. Perhaps his disappearance would make everyone more comfortable.

His grandmother had struggled so much, even climbing stairs that would drain a young, healthy man. Her knees were already worn down to the point of bone loss, yet she never expressed any pain to Sang-Hyeon.

"Healthcare treatment for daily living is covered in the insurance contract. But for this, you'd need separate athlete insurance. And you're not officially registered as an athlete yet."

Sang-Hyeon wasn’t an officially registered athlete yet. He would have to qualify for the Olympics to get that kind of insurance from the sponsored association.

"He is an athlete. He’s registered," the man who entered the room interrupted.

It was Sang-Hyeon's coach.

"He’s a registered athlete. Get him the rehabilitation treatment, please."

The nurse looked puzzled.

"Really? When I checked—"

"He won the gold medal at the national championships a week ago. Do you really think he's not registered as an athlete?"

"Um..."

The nurse wouldn't understand anyway.

"Um, I will double-check on that."

The nurse left the room.

The coach bowed to Sang-Hyeon's grandmother and sat next to Sang-Hyeon.

"..."

He couldn’t look at Sang-Hyeon and turned to look out the window instead.

"I’m registered as an athlete and the insurance will cover my medical expenses?" Sang-Hyeon asked skeptically.

The coach shook his head, "No, that might be a bit difficult."

'I knew it.'

Sang-Hyeon knew the situation better than anyone.

"You just registered as an athlete, and I haven't even registered the insurance yet. They won't cover an incident that happened before the payment."

"Then what is it?"

Sang-Hyeon felt puzzled by the coach's earlier assertion.

"I've secured a subsidy from the association."

"?"

The coach looked solemnly at Sang-Hyeon.

"You need to make a careful decision. This is literally a consolation payment."

It was for Sang-Hyeon, who could no longer participate as an athlete. The money was a gift out of pure goodwill.

"The insurance fund can only be used for treatments, but this is cash you can use for something other than treatment. Just so you know, based on what I've heard from the doctor, the chance of fully recovering is less than 0.2%."

"I know."

"And even then, you won't be in the same condition as before."

"... Right."

"What will you do?"

Sang-Hyeon hesitated, but his grandmother couldn't stand the pause and smacked him.

"What are you thinking? Of course, you should get treated! If you make a stupid decision, you're done! Coach, can we proceed with the payment right away?"

Thus, Sang-Hyeon received treatment using the association's subsidy and the taxi company's insurance payment. He resolved to devote himself to rehabilitation, leaving school to focus on his recovery.

Sang-Hyeon went through physiotherapy daily without any time limit. His arm marginally improved, only shaking just enough to not interfere with his daily living.

"Sang-Hyeon, you're overdoing it. You need a break..."

Even the physical therapist worried about his enthusiasm.

"You're losing strength in your muscles."

What sustained him wasn't his muscle strength.

"I didn't reach today's goal."

It was his willpower. A man who lost everything and only had one goal left. Sang-Hyeon was ready to risk it all.

"Sang-Hyeon, I got a call looking for you. They called here instead because you weren't picking up your phone."

At least, that was what Sang-Hyeon thought until he picked up the phone while getting his treatment.

"Wh… Who...died?"

***

It wasn't the first time Sang-Hyeon experienced going to the funeral. He had memories of being the chief mourner at a funeral home when his parents passed away.

He was too young to remember it well, but that place’s atmosphere was clearly etched in his mind.

First, many people were crying.

“No…”

“So-Yeon... So-Yeon…”

“How can you do this to us…”

A heavy air that was hard to describe in words flowed. No one spoke much. Most just quietly offered their prayers and left.

During meals, many cautiously picked up their food to prevent the sound of chopsticks. And many adults looked at him with sorrowful eyes.

They would come up to Sang-Hyeon with a few comments and leave. After that, he never saw them again. When he was young, he found these people irritating and hateful.

But now, Sang-Hyeon himself was visiting this place from the perspective of those adults. Now he realized that he couldn't blame them anymore.

He couldn't console those who were grieving over So-Yeon's death. Therefore, he couldn't easily strike up a conversation.

It felt like it would be unbearable if he tried to offer consolation for what he couldn't take responsibility for. Had other adults carried such a burden when they spoke to him when he was younger?

Sang-Hyeon clenched his teeth and stepped forward.

"How did you get here?"

"So-Yeon…"

"A school friend?"

Friend? Yes, that was right. Their relationship had ended just as friends.

Sang-Hyeon nodded.

"You can go over there to pay your respects. Thank you for coming. She had such a handsome friend."

She seemed to be So-Yeon's aunt. A woman who slightly resembled So-Yeon's mother guided him, and the sound of crying grew louder.

A familiar face looked back at Sang-Hyeon.

It was So-Yeon's mother, who greatly resembled her daughter.

"Sa-Sang-Hyeon, is that you?"

"My grandmother is out working right now. I came first."

"Th-Thank you."

Sang-Hyeon couldn't take her gratitude. He wasn't someone deserving of thanks. Rather, he was the one who caused the tragedy.

Sang-Hyeon suddenly felt weak and sat down.

"... Sniffle."

As he bowed, it became harder to hold back the tears.

"Heuuuuuuk… Sniffle, sniffle…"

He couldn't get up again.

He couldn't stand up and look at So-Yeon's face, smiling so beautifully in the portrait.