The Left Hand Is Only There to Help (1)
After days of suffering, Yeoncheong was finally free of her ordeal. Ever since returning home from school, she had been diligently absorbing whatever related knowledge she could find. She wanted to be prepared, at the very least.
And so Yeoncheong regained her composure once more.
Spring rain, wetting the ground for the first time in ages. It was a day in mid-March when the dust and yellow haze that had blurred the sky were washed away, and yellow forsythia and azaleas quenched their thirst all at once.
PE class was coming up, and the classmates who had finished changing into their tracksuits filed out of the classroom one by one. On the blackboard, large letters read: Gymnasium Today. It was Hasol's handiwork, made on her trip to the teachers' office.
As Yeoncheong was always reminded, humanity's greatest gift was adaptation. The first time or two were hard, sure. But after doing it a few times, changing clothes had become second nature.
She'd learned she didn't need to pay much attention unless it was a close friend.
It was a truth discovered through repeated experience, and it helped enormously when it came time to change into her gym clothes.
Watching another girl change — even a girl who felt like the opposite sex — was still impossible for her, but there was a simple solution.
I just have to not watch while I'm changing.
Just then, Suyeon poked her head into the classroom from the hallway, Seoha at her side.
"Yeoncheong, all done changing?"
"All... done."
The moment the words left her mouth, Yeoncheong zipped up her tracksuit jacket.
Baek Suyeon and Yeon Seoha.
The two people she could currently call her closest friends in class.
With Suyeon it went without saying — they did club activities together — and Seoha, one of the current student council vice presidents and a candidate for the next presidency, often dropped by the club room as well.
Once she belatedly learned this, Yeoncheong finally understood the look of admiration in the way people gazed at Seoha.
If she were to break it down further, the same could be said of Hasol. Of course, between her naturally busy personality and her role as class president, Hasol was always run off her feet.
While Yeoncheong switched into her shoes, Suyeon and Seoha struck up a conversation.
"Oh, that time?"
When Suyeon asked if it was really true, Seoha explained in detail.
"She changed all by herself, checking my reaction in the hallway the whole time. She was so cute back then."
"Aww... I want to see that too."
Suyeon's head slowly swiveled toward Yeoncheong, who did her best to ignore it. Apparently the two of them felt just as close to her as she did to them, because that kind of talk had been multiplying lately.
Do girls just say things like "cute" to each other all the time...?
Yeoncheong had no way of knowing — she hadn't shared a classroom with girls since elementary school. And there was no one she could ask, so she swallowed the question.
"I said I want to see it~"
"Well, I don't want to show it. Seoha, let's hurry."
Yeoncheong walked ahead with Seoha, and Suyeon scrambled after them.
***
From the equipment laid out that day, the content of the class was easy to guess. And when Yeoncheong spotted the basketballs stacked beside Teacher Hayeong, a quiet smile crossed her face.
"The first PE skills assessment will be basketball. You'll be evaluated on free throws and dribbling, and..."
About halfway through, Yeoncheong let the teacher's explanation drift past one ear.
Back in middle school, Yeoncheong had been forced to accept an unchangeable truth: she was a hopeless lead foot. She had absolutely zero talent for using her feet — kicking things in particular.
Naturally, she went looking for another sport. One built on hands instead of feet. That turned out to be basketball.
As the second most popular sport among the boys after soccer, it meant Yeoncheong spent every spare moment playing pick-up games with her friends.
Hence the confidence to let the teacher's explanation wash over her.
Teacher Hayeong wrapped things up with a brief demonstration.
"The assessments run through next week. Pass early, and you're free to spend the rest of the period however you like inside the gym."
"Teacher, isn't that unfair to Nayun, though? She's on the basketball club."
In response to a student's question, Teacher Hayeong waved it off.
"By that logic, futsal's out, tennis is out, volleyball's out too."
She went on, listing off the sports clubs at the school.
"Besides, I'm not asking anyone to play an actual game. Free throws, a layup, and a dribbling shuttle — just get it done inside the time limit. That's all. Sure, Nayun will be better than the rest of you, but this much is something anyone can manage with a little practice."
Teacher Hayeong brought the class around, and practice began, slightly behind schedule.
"Alright, grab a basketball. If we run short, pair up and share."
"Yes, ma'am."
Practice required a ball, after all. Whether or not they'd actually practice could wait — first, everyone grabbed a basketball. Most of the students gave the ball a few casual bounces or gathered under the hoop to take some shots.
Yeoncheong picked up one of the leftover balls, and something felt off. Even dropped from above her head, the ball barely bounced up to her knees.
"This one's gone flat."
"Want to practice together?"
As Yeoncheong stood there awkwardly with no balls left, Seoha came over. In the meantime, she had tied her hair back in a ponytail, and the stray strands at the nape of her exposed neck stole Yeoncheong's gaze.
Then Yeoncheong noticed Seoha's red eyes fixed on her, and looked away.
"Sure, why not."
Yeoncheong reached out for the ball. But Seoha pulled it back toward herself.
"In exchange, teach me a little."
"Huh? Me?"
Seoha nodded.
"Nayun, right? Isn't there someone else besides me who's in the basketball club?"
"Nayun went straight to the teacher to take the assessment."
Yeoncheong followed Seoha's gaze and turned — there was Nayun, being evaluated by Teacher Hayeong. The other classmates had gathered to watch her too.
Her two-handed shot kissed the backboard and dropped through the rim. Her form was remarkably polished — you wouldn't guess it had been built in barely a year of high school.
Eight out of ten on free throws, and Nayun immediately moved on to the dribbling shuttle. If her shot was that solid, the dribbling was a foregone conclusion. Last came the layup. Right foot, left foot, right hand to finish.
Nayun sank a textbook-perfect layup and completed her assessment.
A perfect score. At Teacher Hayeong's announcement, the watching classmates let out sounds of awe. Nayun, taking it entirely for granted, retired to a corner of the gym to practice her dribbling alone.
***
Having finished spectating, Seoha's red eyes turned back to Yeoncheong.
"What do you think? Couldn't you do at least that well?"
"Why would you think that? I don't remember ever saying I like basketball or that I'm good at it."
With so many sports clubs using the gym — volleyball, basketball, badminton — Yeoncheong had genuinely done nothing but observe during the club tours, basketball included.
"You smiled all smug and confident while the teacher was explaining just now. Wasn't that you?"
"I did not smile smugly... wait, how do you even know that?"
Flustered, Yeoncheong glanced around and covered her face with her hands.
"Did anyone else see?"
"Hmm... probably not? We were standing behind everyone else. Ah, though the teacher might have."
Yeoncheong fanned her hands at her cheeks, trying to cool the heat rising in them.
"Anyway, you'll help me, right? I've never played basketball in my life."
Seoha leaned forward slightly with a playful eye-smile. Ever since learning that this particular look flustered Yeoncheong, she had been deploying it constantly.
"I'd help you even if you didn't ask. So knock it off already."
With nowhere to rest her eyes, Yeoncheong begged for mercy. The face she'd just barely cooled flushed pink all over again.
Handed the ball at last, Yeoncheong threw herself into proper practice.
No matter how much basketball she'd played before, this was her first time since becoming a girl. She needed time to adjust.
She started with a few light bounces. She was shorter now, which naturally meant smaller hands, too. She needed to recover her lost feel for the ball and adapt to her diminished height.
After a brief struggle with a basketball that came back faster than expected, a rhythm crept into Yeoncheong's dribble. The ball followed her pressing hand as if it were glued to it.
That's right. Do you have any idea how hard I worked at this game?
The ball, keeping pace with her right hand, slid smoothly over to her left.
Seoha, watching, let out a small gasp of admiration, and riding the crisp beat of ball on hardwood, the attention of nearby classmates began to gather as well.
As the stares converged, Nayun — practicing alone in her corner — looked up and turned toward Yeoncheong.
Confidence restored, Yeoncheong's movements grew bolder.
She stepped one leg forward and threaded the ball from her right hand between them — only for it to clip her leg on the way up and roll away across the floor.
She'd forgotten to account for her shorter frame.
"Ah!"
Yeoncheong let out a short groan of disappointment. But as a demonstration of her skill for Seoha, it was more than enough.
"So close."
"I'm usually much better than that."
"I never said you weren't?"
Seoha laughed as if to say, well, obviously. It was clearly deliberate.
"Yeoncheong, you're really good at basketball!"
Suyeon came running over, hugging a basketball to her chest. The compliment sent Yeoncheong's spirits — and shoulders — lifting.
"I'm... a little decent, I guess."
"Then join the basketball club!"
"Being good at something doesn't mean you have to join a club for it. Besides, Suyeon, you're the one who asked me to join yours..."
Yeoncheong scratched her cheek, avoiding eye contact.
Part of the reason was that she hated how noisy and crowded the gym got — but that, she kept to herself.
"Yeoncheong..."
Suyeon's eyes sparkled, visibly moved. She flung the basketball she'd been hugging aside and lunged at her; Yeoncheong dodged in a hurry.
"It's been a while, so I need to practice other things too."
"If you're that good, teach me some stuff then."
"You've got the teacher for that."
"Teacher Hayeong's busy with everyone else. And honestly, learning from a friend who's actually good is faster and way more comfortable."
It was a fair point, so Yeoncheong had no comeback. Only after she agreed did Suyeon finally stop clinging to her.
Yeoncheong scooped the basketball up off the floor again.
She dribbled slowly, moving forward, then gradually built up speed before gathering the ball in both hands.
Right foot, left foot, right hand to finish. The same textbook layup Nayun had shown.
Yeoncheong caught the ball from below as it slipped through the net, then searched among the white tape strips scattered across the hardwood floor for the ones marking the basketball court.
Following a white line, she settled into position.
Free throws. This, I'm confident about.
Angled slightly off-center, Yeoncheong set her feet a touch narrower than her shoulders.
A deep breath. She bounced the ball twice, settled her fingertips into the grooved seams, and bent her knees like coiled springs.
As her legs extended, she lifted the ball from her waist. Her right arm, cradling the ball, rose in a straight line past her shoulder.
The arm extends toward the rim lined up under her right eye.
With a snap of the wrist, her fingers — in contact with the ball until the very last instant — roll off it.
It was a picture-perfect form. Yeoncheong had memorized it by closely mimicking the free-throw routine of a player she admired, drilling it into her body until it was her own.
The direction was true. The basketball traced a beautiful arc toward the rim. She heard the faint whisper of the net being grazed, and then—
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The ball struck the floor and battered against the hardwood. But this time, no chorus of admiration followed.
The face of the girl who had shot it turned bright scarlet.
A ball that never even touched the rim, falling clean through the air.
An airball.
Or as it was commonly known — an epic whiff.