A Talent Like No Other
The weekend rain had cooled a summer heat that seemed like it would never break, and in the flowerbeds where the sun-worshipping sunflowers had bloomed, the cosmos flowers of autumn were making ready to take their place — an early September day, in other words.
Yeoncheong, for her part, had voluntarily confessed a sin everyone had long since forgotten, her legs falling asleep for no reason, and had been soundly humbled for it.
For the past several days, what had been tormenting her was neither the responsibility nor the bother that came with the title of Class President, nor even Suyeon and Seoha clinging to her as if they were rivals — it was PE class.
A week had passed, and PE class had come around again.
Suyeon, who had changed into her uniform in a flash, went looking for Yeoncheong and headed for the corner by the window.
"Huh? Yeoncheong already went down to the field."
But waiting for Suyeong — for Suyeon, rather — were Nayun and Hasol, still in the middle of changing into their gym clothes.
And nothing else but Yeoncheong's uniform, strewn carelessly across her desk and chair without so much as a tidy-up.
"Don't tell me she ran off to get away from us?"
At Seoha's words, arriving a beat late, this time it was Hasol who shook her head.
"No way. She went down muttering about how she needed to practice every second she could."
During the last PE class, Yeoncheong had been impossible not to notice.
It was only natural — a friend who was perfectly good at basketball and every other sport turned out to be utterly hopeless at soccer.
The ball simply refused to fly where she intended it to, no matter how carefully she was shown how.
It got to the point where everyone — the teacher included, everyone except Suyeon and Hasol, who had checked her soccer skills firsthand when she was scouted for club observation — assumed she was doing it on purpose.
Granted, it hadn't taken long for them to realize it was genuine skill and not some kind of circus act.
"Come to think of it... she really was terrible."
"Is it even fair to say that? There are people out there who are *actually* terrible."
The friends snickered as the memory resurfaced, and Seoha glanced around at them, lips pursing.
"Let's head out to the field too."
Now that it was confirmed Yeoncheong hadn't run away from them, there was no reason to keep gossiping in the classroom.
Break time was still on.
While the students of Class 2-1 who had come out to the field sat in the stands sheltering from the sun, Yeoncheong alone was out on the artificial turf, kicking a ball around.
Hayeong, the PE teacher, watched her for a long moment before speaking up.
"Wow... Yeoncheong, you know, teachers usually aren't supposed to say things like this?"
"Then don't."
Having a rough idea of what was coming next, Yeoncheong cut it off at the pass.
But words that had already climbed all the way to the tip of your tongue were hard to swallow back down.
"You're great at basketball, and when you came to observe the tennis club way back, I could tell you had a talent for it too... but soccer? Soccer is just not it."
Yeoncheong, who had been dribbling the ball clumsily, stopped and stared dead at Teacher Hayeong.
Even that nearly ended in disaster — stopping her dribble meant stepping on the ball, and she nearly slipped and went down for it.
"My friends might not, but shouldn't a teacher be encouraging students or praising them when they're working hard?"
Teacher Hayeong awkwardly checked the watch on her wrist.
Apparently realizing she'd misspoken, she changed the subject.
"Ahem... Yeoncheong. Line the kids up and do your warm-ups. Break's about to end."
"Tch."
Yeoncheong gave the ball a light tap toward the equipment box.
"Oh, come on!"
But as if the ball had sworn never to do her bidding, it bounced and rolled off in a completely different direction.
In the end, Yeoncheong picked the ball up by hand, put it back where it belonged, and prepared for PE class exactly as Teacher Hayeong had instructed.
Nayun and Seoha returned to where Suyeon and Hasol were practicing passing the ball back and forth.
Suyeon, who had just kicked the ball to Hasol, greeted the two returnees from their assessment cheerfully.
"Did you guys pass?"
Her focus must have broken, because the pass rolled off in a completely different direction.
Hasol shrieked something unintelligible and chased after the ball.
"Ah! Sorry, Hasol!"
"Of course we passed. Both of us. Perfect scores."
Nayun flashed a bright smile and threw up a V with her fingers.
Beside her, Seoha nodded along.
Since the first day of soccer class had been practice only, the two of them had only now taken their assessment and won their freedom.
Suyeon looked over to where Teacher Hayeong stood, and sure enough, more classmates were taking their assessments even now.
Seoha, looking at the same spot, pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"More people are trying than I expected. The dribbling trips them up a little, but passing and shooting are fine as long as you just roll the ball."
True to the words of Hayeong, a PE teacher with years of experience teaching students, plenty of them kept taking the challenge — and kept passing it with ease.
Perhaps psychologically it felt easier than throwing a ball into a tiny basketball hoop.
"Then I should give it a shot before class ends too."
If it worked, great; if not, no loss.
She wouldn't get just one chance, so there was no reason not to try.
"Judging by the vibe, Seoha and Nayun passed, huh?"
At Hasol's words — she had dribbled the ball over ever so carefully — Nayun turned to her.
"Yep. And if you want to pass the dribbling test, you'll have to be a little faster than that."
"Faster than this?"
Hasol pulled a wounded face, insisting she'd already come in plenty fast.
Not as hopeless as Yeoncheong, but still bottom-tier among the five of them. She was having a rough time of it.
"Yeah. You have to weave between the cones."
And so the friends, all except Yeoncheong, were passing a peaceful gym period when—
"GWAAAH! Why does it keep flying off to the sideeeee!"
With a wail of pure despair, Yeoncheong collapsed in a heap onto the grass.
The classmates on the field confirmed it was just Yeoncheong and naturally went back to their own practice.
Only her friends approached her, where she lay sprawled on her back, stomach aimed at the sky.
"Yeoncheong, want some help?"
"Yeah. I'll teach you."
"...You're just going to laugh at me again. Go away."
At the offer from the two who had already passed their assessments, Yeoncheong rolled over, making her refusal plain.
She had her pride — schoolwork aside, she was an athlete.
And there was still a grudge lingering from the first day of soccer class, when they had howled with laughter at her miraculous display.
"Ah, come on, we said sorry. You hold a grudge forever."
Nayun, who had laughed the loudest that day, scratched her head and climbed on top of Yeoncheong.
"Okay, okay, let it go. I'll seriously help you."
"You're heavy. Get off."
Yeoncheong had just shoved Nayun off and was about to resume practicing when—
"Ugh."
The weight crushing down on her suddenly increased.
Yeoncheong, pinned at the very bottom, looked up to find the rest of her friends stacked on top of her like a hamburger.
"Uuurgh... you... insane... people... heavy..."
"Hey! Hey! I'm getting crushed tooooo!"
It wasn't as if her friends would let a fun situation like this slip by.
The three in the middle and on top were simply having a blast; Yeoncheong at the very bottom and Nayun right above her were having the time of their lives dying.
"Heave! Heave!"
"Stop it! I said stop wiggling!"
Suyeon, at the top, rocked her body back and forth, playing around.
Nayun still had enough fight left in her to resist a little, but Yeoncheong was already halfway to being a corpse.
"Hey! Quit fooling around over there and practice!"
Thankfully, Yeoncheong and Nayun were able to escape thanks to Teacher Hayeong's roar in their friends' direction.
Suyeon and Hasol went back to their passing practice, while Yeoncheong — who had very nearly genuinely glimpsed the afterlife — was catching her breath and being forced to enroll in a special lecture.
"...I never asked for help..."
"Stop protecting your pride and just let us help you. We won't laugh this time."
Nayun cut Yeoncheong off with those words.
Coming from someone being that serious, it made Yeoncheong willing to give in one more time.
"Wait, why are we only practicing passing and shooting? What about dribbling?"
"I can't stop very well, but the dribbling itself is more or less under control now."
"Really?"
At Seoha's tilted head, Yeoncheong declared she'd show them herself and set off with the ball.
"How's that?"
Having taken a light lap around her friends, Yeoncheong waited for the verdict from the two perfect scorers.
"Uh..."
"Hmm..."
Seoha and Nayun couldn't quite bring themselves to speak.
It wasn't that she couldn't do it, as she'd claimed — but calling it "more or less under control" was a stretch.
It was closer to her body being dragged along by the ball.
Then again, Yeoncheong was such a naturally quick runner that it didn't exactly look slow.
After a round of exchanged glances, Seoha spoke first.
"You're good. No need to practice dribbling anymore."
"See? That's what I thought!"
Yeoncheong beamed at the compliment, utterly sincere.
Nayun, out of Yeoncheong's line of sight, poked Seoha.
"Do you actually believe that?"
"Nayun. Are you confident you could make Yeoncheong any better than she is right now?"
That shut Nayun's mouth with a click.
"She'll pass the dribbling test as-is anyway. Let's just focus on getting her passing and shooting down."
Even Seoha, who adored Yeoncheong, couldn't swallow everything whole.
From then on, the two of them watched Yeoncheong's practice and offered every piece of advice they knew, holding nothing back.
And yet...
"No! I'm telling you, WHY does it fly off sideways!"
In the end, the words she'd heard somewhere before burst out of Nayun's mouth too.
The two of them had more or less smoothed out her awkward, creaky form, but the ball still flew off in an entirely different direction without fail.
By this point, even Yeoncheong was starting to feel guilty toward the friends who'd come to help.
"Guys... you've helped plenty. I'll figure out the rest on my own."
"No, wait. We're not mad at you, it's just—"
"Yeoncheong."
Seoha's clear voice cut cleanly between Nayun's flustered protest and Yeoncheong's deflated retreat.
"It might sound crazy, but will you hear me out?"
Having listened to Seoha's idea, Nayun stroked her chin and said, "Actually, that might be worth a shot."
"Y-you seriously want me to try that?"
Yeoncheong stared at Seoha with round eyes.
"Mm. Consider it a gamble, and try it just once."
In Seoha's red eyes, there burned an inexplicable certainty.
Gym period was drawing to a close.
A student came to find Teacher Hayeong, who was resting briefly in the stands.
"Teacher. I'd like to take my assessment."
"Oh, sure...?"
The moment she saw the student's face, the PE teacher's sentence curved upward into a question.
Because it was Yeoncheong, who had looked like she needed practice for a good long while yet.
"You're serious about this?"
"Yes."
"...Alright. Well, one attempt isn't the end of the world."
The first assessment item was dribbling.
Seoha's judgment had been spot-on.
There were a few small stumbles along the way that made it a nail-biter, but Yeoncheong somehow managed to finish within the time limit and passed.
"Ohh~ looks like you put in the practice."
On that point, at least, Teacher Hayeong was genuinely impressed by Yeoncheong's effort.
Next up: shooting.
The PE teacher pointed at a small futsal goal.
"You just have to get it in there."
Yeoncheong put distance between herself and the ball and took a deep breath.
Teacher Hayeong tilted her head at the sight—
—and when Yeoncheong kicked off the ground with everything she had, she jolted in alarm and called out to her.
"Yeoncheong! Where do you think you're running?!"
Indeed. Yeoncheong's body was aimed not at the small goal, but at the vast expanse of the athletic field.
Paying it no mind, she struck the ball with all her might toward the field — and Teacher Hayeong, who had been about to shout a warning to the other students, froze mid-motion.
Ordinarily, a kicked ball should at the very least fly in the direction the kicker's body was facing. But the ball off Yeoncheong's foot bent at a right angle and dropped, perfectly, into the small goal.
Both the classmates resting in the stands after passing their own assessments and Yeoncheong's friends erupted in shouts at the sight.
"Whoa! What was that just now?!"
"Holy crap! It actually works!"
"You can really pass the soccer assessment like this?"
Yeoncheong looked at Seoha with a dazed expression, and Seoha gave her a faint smile and a nod.
'From what I've seen, the ball you kick scatters every which way, but it curves left more often than not. So let's just aim for that from the start.'
'What are you even talking about?'
'From what I can see, you have a talent for making the ball not fly straight.'
The first time she'd heard it, Yeoncheong had wondered if she was being mocked — but now that it had actually worked, she had no choice but to believe.
'How is that a talent?!'
And yet, just as Seoha had said, a possibility had opened up.
Riding the momentum, she unleashed that bizarre, almost unnatural shot again and again...
"Hey! It went in again!"
"What number is that?"
"Half of them went in."
By now her classmates were applauding and marveling outright.
Once might be a coincidence, but at this rate, it was more than enough to call it a talent.
And so Yeoncheong secured herself at least a passing grade on her soccer assessment.
"Waaah! Guys, it actually worked!"
"Wooooo!"
As Yeoncheong celebrated in a tangle of hugs with her friends, just off to the side—
"Is this... is this right...? This actually works? ...Why?"
Teacher Hayeong, her entire understanding of soccer shattered, simply stood there in a daze, muttering the same words over and over.