Her Reaction Speed
The next morning.
The rain that had fallen all night finally let up just before dawn. Clearing skies, however, were another matter. The clouds still hung low and heavy, and through the windows the athletic field lay pocked with standing water. Dark, sodden earth clung along the edges of the track, and every time the wind stirred, the damp smell of wet soil and the thick, humid air seeped slowly through the open window cracks and into the classroom.
Kang Tae-jun made his way down the hallway with his eyes half-shut. His steps were slower than usual, his shoulders visibly slumped. His uniform shirt was a little more rumpled than it should have been, and his hair had the look of something he'd raked into place in a hurry.
"...I'm so sleepy..."
A yawn slipped out of him on its own.
Last night, after the raid had ended, Tae-jun had fully intended to go straight to bed. His hands were tired, his eyes were dry and scratchy, and even his head felt fogged over. He'd been sure that the moment he lay down, he'd be out.
But once he actually turned off the lights and stretched out, sleep refused to come.
The raid wouldn't leave his mind. The instant the boss's massive blade had split the ground. The black fog that had swallowed the entire map. The instant-death patterns that would have killed him if he'd been even a single beat too late. And lingering sharper than any of it — Shopsop's movement.
The way Shopsop had already been in position before a pattern even started. The way the evasion path had already been laid out a heartbeat before the danger zone appeared. That wasn't just fast reflexes. It was the movement of someone who wasn't fighting a boss so much as working through a problem they already knew the answer to, step by step.
Every time Tae-jun replayed those scenes, his fingertips itched for no good reason. He wanted to do better. He wanted to keep up properly next time. He wanted Shopsop to acknowledge him again.
Those thoughts tangled together in his head until, much later, he finally managed to fall asleep.
The classroom door clicked open, and a familiar racket filled his ears at once. Voices talking over each other. The scrape of chairs. Footsteps pounding down the hallway. The rustle of someone frantically flipping pages to copy homework. An ordinary morning, no different from any other.
"You made it."
Lee Hyun-woo's voice drifted over from the window seats. Tae-jun lifted a limp hand in greeting and trudged to his desk. The second he set his bag down beside the chair, he dropped into his seat like he'd collapsed.
Hyun-woo took one look at that face and burst out laughing.
"You look seriously wrecked."
"...Couldn't help it."
"Stayed up late again?"
"I didn't pull an all-nighter or anything."
Tae-jun rubbed his face slowly. Pressing his fingers against the corners of his eyes brought a flicker of clarity, but it lasted only a moment.
"Yesterday's raid ran a little long."
Hyun-woo tore open a bread wrapper and let out a dry laugh.
"That game of yours sounds scarier every time I hear about it. If it's a game, aren't you supposed to, I don't know, have fun?"
"It's still fun, though."
Tae-jun mumbled it through a tired face.
"Especially watching Shopsop play. I seriously can't stop being amazed."
"Still not used to it?"
"...Nope."
Tae-jun admitted it without hedging.
"That person is just different. We're looking at the same screen, but it feels like he's seeing something else entirely."
Hyun-woo propped his chin on his hand.
"You two raiding together again today?"
"Probably."
"Wow."
Hyun-woo shook his head.
"You really want that guy's approval, huh."
Tae-jun froze for a second. He opened his mouth to deny it, but the words didn't come. Honestly, Hyun-woo wasn't entirely wrong. Shopsop was the number-one ranked player — the most famous name in the game, someone even other rankers didn't casually compare themselves to. Having someone like that recognize your skill felt better than Tae-jun had expected.
And then —
The classroom door clicked open again.
Long golden hair. Clear, vivid gold eyes. Seo Ha-yoon.
The moment the door opened, the noise in the classroom shifted, just for a beat. Someone mid-sentence stopped talking. Someone else turned their head without thinking. That was the kind of student Seo Ha-yoon was — she drew the eye no matter where she stood.
"Morning, Ha-yoon."
"Good morning."
Seo Ha-yoon nodded gently. A smile that wasn't overdone. A calm voice. A walk that never fell out of place. She exchanged brief greetings with her friends as she headed toward her seat — and then, by chance, her eyes met Tae-jun's.
"...Good morning, Kang Tae-jun."
Tae-jun hesitated a fraction.
"Uh... morning."
Seo Ha-yoon's gaze lingered on his face for a moment. The faint shadows under his eyes. The not-quite-awake expression. The reactions that were a beat slower than usual. She didn't miss any of it.
"You look even more tired today than you did yesterday."
Hyun-woo jumped in immediately.
"His soul was about halfway out of his body."
"Ah... was it?"
Tae-jun scratched his head for no particular reason. He glanced away, a little embarrassed, but he couldn't deny it. He had a pretty good idea of what his face looked like right now.
Seo Ha-yoon watched him for a moment, then spoke with a small smile.
"We have PE today. Will you be all right? With the rain, we'll probably be in the gym instead of on the field."
"...The gym. Thank god."
Hyun-woo couldn't hold back a laugh, his shoulders shaking.
"It's still PE even if it's in the gym, you know."
"Don't say that."
Tae-jun's reply came out limp, and a small smile touched Seo Ha-yoon's lips again. She looked at him for a moment. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she asked,
"Are you going to stay up all night on that game again today?"
"...Probably?"
"Then don't push yourself too hard."
Tae-jun paused. That hadn't been about PE. It had followed as naturally as if she already knew he'd be gaming again tonight — as if she'd already accounted for it.
He touched the back of his neck and answered,
"...I'll try."
It had been a short conversation, but the atmosphere was strangely comfortable. Talking with Seo Ha-yoon, the words never quite ran dry. They weren't particularly close, and yet the awkwardness never lingered. The way she approached him wasn't pushy, and the distance she kept when she spoke felt unnaturally natural.
Hyun-woo looked back and forth between the two of them and put on a meaningful expression. This time, though, he didn't bother saying anything.
Seo Ha-yoon, for her part, sat down at her desk without any particular reaction. Then she lowered a hand beneath the desk.
Her phone screen lit up faintly.
Seo Ha-yoon looked at the screen for a moment. The login record sitting under Tae-jun's nickname. Kang Tae-jun, sitting in the classroom with a tired face. Arc Saber, who'd fought to hold on until the very end in the game. Those two images were already overlapping naturally in her mind.
Just before she turned the screen off, she smiled, very faintly.
"...He really did stay up late."
It was a voice too small for anyone else to hear.
Third period. PE.
With the field unusable because of the rain, class was held in the indoor gymnasium. The gym was packed with a different kind of noise from the morning classroom. Students were already tossing a ball around under the basketball hoops, and the laughter of kids gathered in their gym uniforms mixed with the squeak of sneaker soles against the floor, echoing loudly through the wide space.
Outside the windows, the sky was still overcast. A faint wash of sunlight smeared across the rain-beaded glass, but the air inside the gym still held onto its dampness.
The PE teacher finished taking attendance and picked up a whistle.
"Dodgeball today."
Reactions erupted from every direction. Tae-jun, on the other hand, just sighed.
"...Why did it have to be dodgeball."
Hyun-woo grinned.
"You're gonna get hit and go out the second it starts."
"Yeah, well, I'm sleepy... I've got no stamina."
"Is it a stamina problem, or a reaction problem?"
"Shut up."
Tae-jun answered like he couldn't be bothered, but his face was already worn out. The aftermath of gaming all night was worse than he'd expected. His body felt heavy, and his shoulders were leaden. He'd said he was lucky it was the gym, but honestly, he was tired no matter what they made him do.
A little later, the teams were split. The PE teacher roughly divided them by number and sorted the groups, and the students scattered naturally to either side of the court. And Tae-jun, by chance, ended up on the same team as Seo Ha-yoon.
Hyun-woo crossed over to the opposite side, laughing as he went.
Not long after the match started, Tae-jun found himself revising his thoughts a little.
The whistle blew, and the game was on.
A ball the other team had thrown hard came flying toward Seo Ha-yoon. The speed was fast, and the angle was awkward — the kind of throw that would normally freeze someone in place, or leave them a beat too late.
And yet.
Seo Ha-yoon turned her body with almost no hesitation. Her golden hair scattered through the air. The ball grazed past the very tips of it and dropped to the floor behind her.
It was too natural. It didn't look like she'd forced the dodge. It was the movement of someone who had already known it was coming.
The ball bounced off the floor with a dull thud. While the other students flinched in surprise, Seo Ha-yoon was already setting up her next move. Her eyes were on the opposing side. Her feet were lightly shifting her center of gravity.
"...Huh?"
Tae-jun's eyes wavered, just for a moment. Last night's raid flickered through his mind. Shopsop, moving first before a pattern even appeared. Play that shifted position as if the danger zone had already been predicted.
Tae-jun let out a short, incredulous laugh.
What am I even thinking.
They were completely different people. Seo Ha-yoon didn't even look like she had any interest in games to begin with.
And then —
"Kang Tae-jun!"
Someone shouted. Tae-jun turned his head — and a ball was flying straight at his face.
"...Huh?"
His reaction was late. The ball closed in before his body could move.
A sharp tap. Someone beside him knocked the ball away.
Tae-jun turned his head with a dazed look. It was Seo Ha-yoon. She sent the ball bouncing cleanly out of bounds, then looked at him.
"If you zone out, you'll get hit."
"...Ah."
Tae-jun straightened his stance, a beat too late. Seo Ha-yoon spoke without any particular change in expression.
"You need to focus."
Short. Calm. And strangely familiar. He couldn't say exactly where he'd heard it. But —
Watch the pattern first.
Last night's chat message flickered through his mind. Tae-jun froze for a second, but Seo Ha-yoon had already turned her eyes back toward the game.
"It's coming from the right."
The instant the words left her mouth, a ball came flying. Students scrambled out of the way. Tae-jun moved on reflex too. The ball skimmed past the tip of his arm and was gone.
"Whoa, Seo Ha-yoon is seriously good."
Hyun-woo stared from the opposite court, looking stunned.
"She's always been good at sports!"
Someone else chimed in.
The match went on longer than expected. The ball whipped back and forth, and students who got hit were pushed one by one off the court. But Seo Ha-yoon never wavered, all the way to the end. Every time an opposing ball came at her, she moved with precision, and when she threw, she picked out the gaps in the other side just as precisely.
There was no wasted force. What she had instead was speed of judgment. She read the other side's movement, chose the open space, and moved only when the timing called for it.
And that looked familiar to a degree that was almost unsettling.
In the end, the last one still standing was Seo Ha-yoon. Even the PE teacher sounded impressed.
"Seo Ha-yoon's got good reflexes."
Admiration rippled through the students around them.
"She's actually amazing."
"She's good at sports too, huh."
Seo Ha-yoon smiled briefly, without any excess reaction.
"I just got lucky."
But Tae-jun couldn't get the last few moments out of his head.
...It's just my imagination.
Even so. The voice and the movement from a moment ago refused to fade from his mind as easily as they should have.