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Chapter Text

Yoo Joonghyuk stuck out like a sore thumb among the sea of mothers escorting their daughters to their first ballet class. Since he lived in a small town, his face was plastered throughout local television as an up-and-coming boxer whose fame was rising to new heights after his previous victory. To Yoo Mia, he was her older brother, and he had a responsibility to uphold. Today’s responsibility included signing her up for ballet classes. 

His younger sister was insistent, and she was at a sensitive young age to gauge different sports, though he was a tad disappointed she disregarded boxing. He would have shown her all the moves, including how to get a knockout in a match. Normally, he wouldn’t mind his sister’s experimentation phase, but his first impression of Kim Dokja, her instructor, was less than stellar. 

He doesn’t recall what ticked him off, but sadly, his obnoxious reaction towards Kim Dokja was attributed to slight internalized homophobia, toxic boxing culture, obtuse prejudices of male dancers, and engagement to fear-mongering. He was quite ashamed for jumping mental hoops and deciding Kim Dokja was a creepy pedophile when the only research he did was scrolling through social media and believing the neighbors’ rumors. 

Like any conflict he faced throughout childhood and young adulthood, he responded with violence. Instead of fostering his deep-rooted issues into a punching bag, he almost assaulted Mia’s instructor. Worst of all, the confrontation happened right after class, and they had an entire audience to witness it. 

“ Get out ,” Kim Dokja palmed his grazed cheek with steely eyes and shoved Yoo Joonghyuk out of the classroom with his untapped strength before the boxer could accidentally injure one of the children or their parents. 

The rest of the adults looked at him as if he was a wild animal. The danseur locked the classroom indoors to ensure their safety and proceeded to call the authorities. “You are not welcomed here any longer,” he said with finality. 

The Yoo siblings were banned from the premises, and Kim Dokja acted swiftly to file a restraining order. If Yoo Mia inherited anything from her older brother, it would be his hardheadedness, so when she stated she would starve until he formally apologized, she meant serious business. Even though he attempted to explain to her why her dance instructor was a dangerous man, she refused to listen. 

“Oppa, you taught me that if I committed a mistake, I must apologize,” she vehemently replied. “The same teachings apply to you!”

With a fierce door slam to his face, Yoo Joonghyuk was at his wits’ end when she skipped dinner and breakfast the following day. His mood worsened when a man named Han Myungoh approached him before he participated in a local match. Apparently, the man’s daughter was a good friend of Yoo Mia.

“Yoo Joonghyuk-nim,” the man tilted his head and greeted him. Out of parental obligation, he decided to speak to Yoo Mia’s guardian to clear the air. 

Briefly, he explained the chain reaction of events that followed the siblings’ departure. According to Han Myungoh, one of the students was suspected of malnutrition. Unfortunately, extreme dieting was a common practice among ballet dancers, and females were more susceptible to eating disorders within the sport. The boxer nodded solemnly since he had personal experience. After all, a mere snack can tip the scales of determining if he remains in the Welterweight division.

“Isn’t she only ten years old?” He whispered out harshly. 

Still, he cannot fathom purposefully starving his younger sister to death. He chose this career to bring food to the table. 

Yoo Joonghyuk happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time while the dance instructor quickly inspected for signs of malnutrition. He blew the misunderstanding out of proportion, and immense shame colored his features when Han Myungoh finished the rundown of how the parents were reprimanded, how they received counseling from a dietician, and how the child seeked immediate care. With how much he fucked up, he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. Life would have been easier if he wrote off this embarrassing mistake as a learning lesson and enrolled Yoo Mia into a different class, but he also taught his younger sister to not run away with her tail tucked between her legs. 

Self-reflection was not his strongest suit. His ego was pretty battered before he finally swallowed his pride and returned to Kim Dokja’s ballet class with Yoo Mia in tow. 

“I thought I told you to never come back,” the man said coldly when he saw the pair waiting for him after class. They patiently waited until the last child was picked up by their guardian. Despite the box of fruits Joonghyuk brought inside, he was unfazed by the offering. 

Yoo Mia flinched. She never heard her instructor use that tone. 

“I will call the authorities if you refuse to leave.”

The urge to strangle this infuriating man continued to grow, but this time Yoo Joonghyuk was at fault. The apology felt heavy in his tongue as he said it aloud. 

“So?” The danseur looked unimpressed. “You expect a refund or something else?” The man tapped the cheek he grazed. “A dancer’s face is their selling point, and if I was still in my prime, it would have cost you an arm and a leg.”

Reality was a harsh jungle. Even though there was a push for self-love and body positivity in society, flawless skin and perfect features still reigned supreme. 

“Now stop wasting my time, and move .”

The boxer was speechless. Sure, he wasn’t entitled to instant forgiveness, but the blatant disregard rose his humiliation and anger to new heights. He had to rein in his temper, lest he made another attempt to bury his fist into his face.

Then Yoo Mia scurried around her brother’s dejected body and blocked Kim Dokja’s path.

“Seon-saeng-nim!” She shivered in fear since she was facing an authoritative figure, but she understood the significance of her brother buying expensive fruits and bowing his head. She gulped but mustered up her courage. “You said it’s fine to make mistakes!”

Kim Dokja let out a long-suffering sigh. He then knelt down until he was at eye level and said, “Miss Yoo Mia.” He wore a serious expression. “This and ballet practice are different.”

His reply left no room for further discussion. 

“Please don’t punish her for my transgressions.”

Kim Dokja turned around and found Yoo Joonghyuk in a pathetic position, bowing deeply with his head hung low. Hearing his younger sister’s outburst reminded him of his purpose. His pride had no place here when she was supposed to be the priority of this talk. The young man tried his best to convey the desperation in his voice to maintain Mia’s attendance. Even if she attended another class, that meant forcefully leaving the friends she made in the beginning and readjusting to the environment again. The young girl already sacrificed most of her social life due to their unstable income, jumping from one shabby apartment to another until Joonghyuk made it big. 

“The blame falls on me. I will accept any punishment. You can punch me in the face if that’ll satisfy you.”

“Oppa,” Yoo Mia shook her head in disagreement, but she shut up with one glance. 

Kim Dokja stared at him hard, determining if Yoo Joonghyuk’s words were sincere or not. They lived in a small town, so he was quite familiar with the boxer’s reputation. Sometimes his friends would invite him to watch a couple of his matches, and though he was not interested in the sport, he admired the grace and power he exuded whenever he was in front of an opponent. His younger sister was an uncut gem with untapped potential, so Kim Dokja was greatly disappointed to find out Joonghyuk was a Grade A asshole and had to dismiss the young girl. An opportunity arose for the boxer to redeem himself. Kim Dokja rummaged through the inner compartment of his gym bag to fish out a couple of spare tickets in his bag. 

“Spare me the trouble. There’s no point in punching your face when that’s a part of your job.”

Yoo Joonghyuk let out a small cough. The thought never occurred to him. Then Kim Dokja waved the tickets in front of his face. 

“Come to my performance tomorrow,” he invited him. “If I see you’re serious about making amends,” he quickly glanced at Yoo Mia before continuing, “She can attend the next session.” The other man nodded with grave determination while his younger sister teared up and thanked him for the opportunity. 

True to his word, Yoo Joonghyuk watched the entirety of the performance, which was an incredible feat by Kim Dokja’s standards because typically they can last between 2-3 hours. He was also impressed with Yoo Mia’s attention span, but looking at her gaze of wonder, a gaze he experienced firsthand, he easily deduced she was enamored with the beautiful world of ballet. Kim Dokja mistakenly thought he would see the Yoo siblings again the next day to resume her lessons, but instead they were waiting for him near the dressing room. 

The young girl hopped excitedly as she reenacted some of her favorite parts, poorly mimicking the complex jumps the main character of the story performed. Kim Dokja giggled softly when the most she did was a relevé. Her stance was good, but her footwork needed a bit more help, which he gently guided and fixed her form. 

Yoo Joonghyuk watched the exchange with a frown and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He commented he was surprised to see Kim Dokja lift all those ballerinas – sometimes even throwing and catching them above his head – while maintaining his composure to complete his twists and jumps. The maneuvers looked complicated, and there were occasions he would mainly focus on counting how many spins they can perform before he got dizzy. Initially, he thought Kim Dokja looked like a twig, but those preconceptions were thrown out the window when looking at how his tights accentuated his toned muscles. 

“That’s not the norm, Yoo Joonghyuk,” Kim Dokja said while retaining his professional tone. He softened a bit thanks to Yoo Mia, but he was still rightfully upset. “Despite our appearances, we are not weak and fragile.” Regardless of opinion, they were athletes, too. Personally, Kim Dokja loathed hearing misconceptions that ballet dancers were weak and fragile when they were the opposite. Their workout routine was extensive and brutal, and for male ballet dancers, there were periods when they must lift and carry female dancers in disadvantageous positions. 

“They don’t look heavy,” Yoo Mia pointed out. 

With instructor mode on, Kim Dokja emphasized that dancers need cardiovascular endurance, stamina, power, and strength to finish a top-notch performance. Not all female ballerinas weighed the same, so he had to be prepared for anything to not injure himself. 

“You probably can’t carry Oppa,” the young girl stated carelessly, “He’s probably thrice as heavy as those girls.” 

Yoo Joonghyuk was about to give his younger sister a wilting glare for insinuating he was fat, but Kim Dokja had a point to prove as the danseur recklessly gripped his hips without warning and effortlessly lifted him as if he was one of the ballerinas on stage. 

Raised high in the air like a beautiful swan, the young man held his breath in shock, eyes widening as he noted Dokja’s forearms never shook. Yoo Joonghyuk squirmed in discomfort, communicating to the other man he would like to return to the ground. 

"Put me down," he hissed.

Before Dokja could notice anything different, Mia clapped enthusiastically with squeals of delight since she had never seen anybody carry her brother like that. The other man wore a smug smile as he carefully lowered Yoo Joonghyuk back on the ground, unaware of the mild panic coursing through the taller man's veins and the red creeping up his cheeks. He excused himself to the bathroom, giving him the appearance that he was humiliated and indignant that the danseur would lift him in public. 

However, the truth was far worse. Fuck, he thought, that was hotter than he imagined.