First Semester (1)
Monday morning dawned. Having finished getting ready for school, I stood before the mirror adjusting my clothes over and over. I had chosen the most unassuming knit sweater and jeans I could find, yet the figure staring back still looked somehow unfamiliar.
When I lifted the knit a little, red marks showed across my chest. Memories of the stormy days tangled up with a man only a few days earlier flooded back, and I yanked the clothes all the way up to my neck.
"A-yeong, aren't you late? Hurry up!"
Hui-yeong's urging voice came from outside the door. Startled, I grabbed my bag and stepped out.
"Hui-yeong, let's have dinner with Se-yeong later this evening."
With her seeing me off, I left the shared apartment. On the path toward campus the grounds brimmed with the fresh energy of newly enrolled students.
Everyone clustered in little groups, laughter blooming among them, but having skipped the freshman orientation I made my way toward the lecture hall for the first class with hesitant steps.
Not a single familiar face in sight. Every time strange gazes swept over me I unconsciously tightened my grip on the bag strap.
I'm way too nervous.
Before long the lecture-hall entrance came into view. I drew a deep breath in front of it and stepped inside. Students sat scattered here and there.
At a glance the room held plenty of solidly built classmates, giving off the rough feel of a sports college, yet the atmosphere inside was nothing like what I had expected.
Everyone sat flipping through major textbooks or reviewing tablets and pre-printed materials.
Rather than a noisy, disheveled mood, an unexpectedly studious air hung over the place.
I quietly took a seat toward the back and only then opened the department group chat.
While scrolling through the endless stream of messages I came across a notice about this school's unique system, the SSC—Sports Study Community.
NOTICE: All freshmen will be organized into three SSC groups of twenty each. Some major foundation courses will be taken by group, and study reports as well as joint assignments will also proceed in SSC units.
Skimming the conversation that followed the notice, I already spotted someone spoiling the group atmosphere.
Checking the profile, I saw a photo of a thin guy with bleached blonde hair.
This is definitely it. This guy has to be one of the characters.
I was frowning at Kim Tae-yang's flippant messages when the back door of the lecture hall opened amid a noisy stir and two men walked in.
One was the blonde Kim Tae-yang whose name I had just confirmed in the chat.
Leaving his light laughter behind, another man strode forward scattering a heavy presence that snagged my gaze completely.
An angular jaw, short-cropped hair, and a writhing muscular body that showed even through a thick sweatshirt.
I knew neither his age nor his name, yet the stranger approached with bold steps, scraped a chair out with a loud drag, and sat down right beside me.
"Hey, Park A-yeong. Right? Real life looks way better."
Chair legs scraped behind me and Kim Tae-yang started tapping my shoulder. The instant that crude hand touched me, the very air seemed to flip; an intensely thick male scent stabbed straight into my nose.
It was different from Choi Deok-hun's damp, dense smell—rawer, more violent.
That flashy blonde punk... just from this smell alone... yeah, it's exactly that guy.
The overwhelming scent that clashed so hard with Kim Tae-yang's light appearance made my lower belly tremble faintly. How long had it been since I last escaped a man, and already my body was starting to react.
Already like this... this body really is too much.
I grumbled at the cruel fate for only a moment before my eyes drifted to the man beside me. The nameless stranger sitting next to me never even glanced my way; he simply stared straight ahead in silence.
His massive frame called up the past few days. Paradoxically, that very fact brought a strange sense of security.
Right up until class was about to begin, Kim Tae-yang kept tapping my back from behind and talking.
"A-yeong, what's your next class? Got dinner plans today?"
"Hey, tone it down a little."
When I refused in a small voice, the tapping hands grew rougher.
"Hey, what are you? Why act so expensive?"
The more heated Kim Tae-yang's words and actions became, the thicker that strange scent seemed to grow.
Then it happened. The man who had kept silent like a giant boulder beside me turned his head slightly.
"Hey."
A low, thick voice rang in my ear. Instantly Kim Tae-yang's laughter cut off.
"Class is starting. Be quiet, will you?"
The intimidation rolling off that angular jawline and rough features made Kim Tae-yang flinch and pull his outstretched hand back.
"Ah, yes... hyung. Got it."
Kim Tae-yang grumbled and sank deep into his chair. Strangely enough, one word from that man snapped the momentum that had been harassing me clean in half.
Yet the strange smell heating my body did not fade; if anything it only grew thicker.
Caught between the uncomfortable atmosphere and the scent that kept nagging at me, I failed to concentrate on the lecture as time slipped by.
The corridor bustled with students heading to their next lecture halls. Squeezing through the crowd, I was about to lose my balance when a firm arm caught me. Looking up, I found the same man who had sat beside me in the previous class.
"Meet again. Where's your lecture hall?"
"I'm going to 63314."
"Ah, me too. So you're taking the presentation and discussion class as well."
The solid, expressionless look from earlier had vanished; now he wore a bright smile.
"Ah... yes. Thank you for helping me earlier."
"Nah, no need for thanks! That guy was acting up from the chat already, so I was going to say something anyway. Don't mind him too much. Haha."
He scratched the back of his head with a rough hand and laughed heartily. I had thought him blunt, but the bright smile quickly softened the fierce impression into something reliable and kind.
When we reached the lecture-hall door he stopped, looked down at me, and held out his hand once more.
"Proper introduction. I'm Choi Geon-woo. Born in '91, entered a bit late because of the military. We're same-department classmates."
I stared blankly at the hand he offered. Even at a glance his knuckles were thick with calluses. After gazing at that large hand for a moment I shyly clasped it. A tough, rough texture pressed against my palm.
"I'm Park A-yeong. Really, thank you earlier, Geon-woo oppa."
"Hearing 'oppa' from a beauty like you feels great! Since we're SSC Group 1 we'll be seeing each other a lot. Nice to meet you, A-yeong!"
Beauty... the natural compliment made my face burn. He called my name with a bright smile and led the way, opening the lecture-hall door for me.
It was the first day, and a general-education class at that, so no one was really concentrating. The professor simply gave a brief introduction to the course and left it at that.
In a quiet corner I exchanged soft conversation with Geon-woo oppa about this and that.
"So you quit sports in your senior year of high school and went straight into the military?"
"Yeah. You know how it is, right? Quitting sports and trying to study—how much the head hurts."
"So how did it go?"
"Well, I studied bit by bit in the military, after discharge I hit a re-take prep class, and on weekends I went to the center doing PT lessons little by little."
"Wow, that's really amazing. Combining study and training couldn't have been easy."
At my admiring reply Geon-woo oppa shrugged his broad shoulders in mild embarrassment.
The angular jawline and rough features facing me up close still carried intimidation, yet the cheerful atmosphere that grew as we talked transformed that pressure into a solid sense of reliability.
"Amazing, nothing. Money was tight so it just worked out. Back then the PT members heard I was re-taking and cheered me on a lot. Thanks to that I got energy, even entered a few small competitions and placed."
He proudly gave his forearm a light tap. The muscle texture showing through the sweatshirt was clearly on a different level from an ordinary man's.
As if proving that the physique forged through long years of training and the competition placements were no empty boast, a thick masculine aura rolled off him.
Definitely... he looks strong on a whole different scale from guys like Kim Tae-yang.
The scent I had caught earlier still lingered at the tip of my nose. To push that feeling away I threw myself even deeper into conversation with Geon-woo oppa.
"A-yeong, since you're SSC Group 1 too, if school life ever gets hard just tell me anytime. Oppa knows the sports-side ropes inside out."
"Yes, okay."
I shyly nodded at the bright, lively voice that was looking out for me.
Until moments ago the thought of being locked in a group of twenty with Kim Tae-yang for the entire first year had felt stifling. But with Geon-woo oppa standing like a solid wall, an unexpected relief settled in.
"So... this midterm... the presentation will be the final..."
The professor wrote the semester curriculum across the blackboard, yet every nerve of mine stayed fixed on Geon-woo oppa sitting beside me.
The bell signaling the end of class rang and the lecture hall grew noisy. Remembering my promise with Se-yeong and Hui-yeong, I hurriedly packed my bag. Right then a rough hand from the next seat closed around my wrist.
"A-yeong, leaving already? Going for lunch?"
Choi Geon-woo spoke with an open, refreshing smile.
"Ah, yes. I'm meeting friends at the student cafeteria."
"Really? I was just heading there myself—perfect. Eating alone is a bit boring, so let's go together."
Without giving me a chance to refuse he naturally fell into step beside me, matching my stride.
With every movement the intense body scent that had been hovering at my nose since earlier washed over me again. That unfamiliar, thick smell that had begun with the first class still refused to leave my surroundings.
That blonde punk earlier... just how dangerous a character is he?
On the way to the student cafeteria Choi Geon-woo took the lead, spinning out anecdotes from his trainer days and military service.
His bright energy gradually loosened the tension, yet paradoxically, every time he leaned close and spoke into my ear my body began to heat up without my noticing.
"What's wrong? Your face is a bit red—are you sick?"
Looking worried, Choi Geon-woo dipped his head to check my complexion. I hurriedly shook my head, fidgeting with the knit pulled all the way to my neck.
"No! Just... maybe because I'm a little hungry."
"Haha, cute. Let's hurry. Your friends will be waiting!"
He gave my back a light push and strode ahead. Watching that broad back, I felt a strange tangle of emotions.
Wondering how I was supposed to introduce this unfamiliar man to Se-yeong and Hui-yeong waiting at the student cafeteria, I stepped inside.