Hongjoong'

Hongjoong was the embodiment of discipline. When he stood by the pool, even the scent of the water seemed to align with his stern presence. With sharp eyes, he scanned his surroundings, catching even the slightest mistake in an instant. Those who trained under him didn’t just learn how to swim — they learned what it meant not to give up.

His words were brief, his commands clear. He wasn’t one for sweet talk; he cared about results. What mattered to him wasn’t victory, but the struggle — the resilience. For Hongjoong, swimming wasn’t just a sport; it was a battle against life itself.

His students both feared and admired him. Because earning his approval meant more than applause — it was a mark of honor. Being trained by this man wasn’t just about skill; it was about character. The strong stayed, the weak learned to start over.

It was six in the morning. The pool was misty, silence resting over the water like a thin veil. The athletes hadn't even begun their warm-ups yet, but he was already there. Dressed in a black tracksuit, he stood at the edge, hands clasped behind his back, quietly observing.

You had come for the first time that morning. As he dried his wet hair with a towel, their eyes met. Hongjoong didn’t stare — he simply gave a slight nod and turned away. But whatever was in that split-second glance settled deep inside Seonghwa. Maybe it was fear, maybe respect… or maybe something much more.

.