First Flight, Fluttering Like Spring (1)
The moment Jin Gyeo-wool arrived, she was hit full-force by her teammates' complaints.
"Normally when I'm late you yank out one hair per second. And now you show up late yourself and just clam up?"
Gong Je-hyeon launched straight into nonsense. She had never pulled his hair out one strand per second. He must have been so thoroughly hair-yanked that he was starting to hallucinate phantom pain.
"Noona. You're sure you're really okay?"
"You trying to extend your blanket-kick duration again?"
"Ah. No. Never mind. You look healthy."
Yu Min-jae had been about to sink back into one of his trademark delusions before barely clawing his way back to reality. He'd come within a hair of turning a three-year blanket-kick into a six-year one.
Ha Jeong-uk knew better than anyone that the smartest move in an atmosphere like this was to keep his mouth shut.
The only one who managed to worry about her in a halfway normal way was Choi Do-yun. Ever since their misunderstanding had been cleared up, he had become suspiciously functional.
"Noona, breakfast—"
"Didn't eat."
"Then shouldn't you grab something?"
"Maybe. I am a little hungry…"
They had already cleared departure screening, so finding a proper restaurant was awkward. Jin Gyeo-wool dumped her bags on Gong Je-hyeon and started wandering the terminal with no particular destination in mind.
Choi Do-yun, who had trailed after her at some point, spoke up.
"I checked the map earlier. There's a convenience store that way. And a bakery."
"Oh. Nice. But why'd you follow me?"
Her sharp look said that if he was approaching her with any lingering ulterior motives, she would not let it slide. Choi Do-yun read the room, edged a little farther away, and said,
"No, this is… seriously just. You're the team's ace, so I'm looking out for you. And you're my noona. Yeah. Looking out for you like family."
Truthfully, Choi Do-yun hadn't particularly wanted to tag along either. Coach Chae Hojin had decided that going himself would be a little weird and sent Choi Do-yun instead—on the grounds that she was the only girl on the team, so someone ought to make sure she was safe.
Watching the reluctant look on Choi Do-yun's face as he followed her, Jin Gyeo-wool could only feel puzzled. Didn't little brothers and older sisters usually fight like cats and dogs?
But then the thought sorted itself out. Right—Choi Do-yun only had an older brother, so of course he'd have some idealized fantasy about what a noona was like.
"Fine, whatever. Like family. Not bad."
"Yeah. I don't want to put any more pressure on you either…"
Choi Do-yun was finally starting to sound like an actual little brother. Jin Gyeo-wool snorted a quiet laugh and asked him,
"You want something too? Should I grab stuff for the others?"
"They already had brunch, so they're fine."
"Ah, right. I'm the one who showed up late. Everyone else got here right around mealtime."
"Yeah. Just you eat."
Coach Chae Hojin had told him to go just in case, but Choi Do-yun—who had spent months living with his eyes fixed on Jin Gyeo-wool—could tell. Today's Jin Gyeo-wool was clearly low on energy. He didn't know why, but it felt pretty serious.
"Lately it's really starting to sink in that I hit Challenger. I'm getting matched with pro players I never used to see, you know?"
Normally Jin Gyeo-wool barely talked about other people. She was the type who ran with her eyes locked solely on winning. You might have expected her to say something about how fun it was competing against other players now that she was Challenger—but she had never once shown that kind of unusual reaction.
And yet today, out of nowhere, she was talking about other players.
Choi Do-yun wasn't the most socially sharp person around, but even he could tell today's Jin Gyeo-wool was off. People said that altruistic types listened a lot to others—but if you dug deeper, that wasn't always true. When someone had something to hide, or needed to redirect attention away from themselves, they tended to overreact to their surroundings and talk about things that didn't fit the moment.
Jin Gyeo-wool, who normally never spoke about anything except team matches, build research, and game analysis, was suddenly chatting about other players?
She definitely wasn't in great shape. But if he brought it up, given her personality, she'd just get mad.
I'll just quietly stick by her side…
Too much attention was poison in situations like this. So he'd calmly trail after her, give good reactions, and help if she asked. That was all.
And just like that, Choi Do-yun succeeded for the first time in his life at reading a girl's heart.
Riding a plane for the first time turned out to be more nerve-wracking than expected.
Hon Gyeo-wool had been used to flying—her parents had dragged her on overseas trips whenever they got bored when she was little. But the current Jin Gyeo-wool was a different person, wasn't she?
The man occupying Jin Gyeo-wool's body had never been on a plane in his life. You needed money to fly. He'd gone to Jeju Island on a school trip once, but the school had cut costs by sending them by bus and ferry.
Sensing something off, Choi Do-yun casually asked her. He had won the rock-paper-scissors match during boarding about ten minutes earlier and successfully claimed the seat right next to Jin Gyeo-wool by the window.
"You look tired. Maybe you should sleep a little?"
"…Maybe."
Jin Gyeo-wool, who had been staring out the window trying to hide how tense she was, let out a low, short sigh. Haa.
Three hours from Seoul to Taiwan. Not a long flight, but the thought of her body floating high in the sky for that entire time somehow made her incredibly nervous.
Apparently deciding Choi Do-yun was right and she should just sleep, Jin Gyeo-wool let her eyes drift shut and rested her head against the window.
She herself had no idea, but whoever had recommended it, the round caterpillar-shaped neck pillow she was wearing was extremely cute. On top of that, she was so small that the cramped economy seat looked spacious on her—another cuteness point.
I already slept that much and I'm still sleepy…
She'd slept for ages after lighting the incense candle. She'd slept for ages after facing Hon Gyeo-wool too. And somehow she was getting sleepy again.
She'd expected the tension to keep her wide awake, but her eyelids grew heavy and slowly sank shut. Come to think of it, back when she'd been a man, she'd worked all day until her whole body ached and could never sleep this peacefully.
Giving silent thanks to Hon Gyeo-wool for lending her a body that could sleep anytime, Jin Gyeo-wool let her consciousness scatter.
Fierce as she usually was, the moment she fell asleep she became a girl more adorable than anyone.
To think he alone got to see this wonderful sight. Choi Do-yun could barely contain his satisfaction—but he kept himself in check with a small nod, determined not to make another mistake or fall into another misunderstanding like last time.
How could a girl this beautiful even exist? And she was incredible at League of Council on top of it. No matter how he thought about it, the combination made no sense.
From the aisle seat to Choi Do-yun's right, Gong Je-hyeon asked him,
"Noonim asleep?"
"Yeah. Looks like it."
"How does she just put her head down and pass out like that?"
"That's probably why she was late this morning too."
Even after being told she was asleep, Gong Je-hyeon insisted on checking for himself, stretching out a hand and waving it in front of Jin Gyeo-wool's face. After confirming the warm breath coming from her nose, he pulled his hand back and muttered to Choi Do-yun,
"So. How is it? Feels good?"
"What does."
"Come on. You used to like her a ton."
"……. That's ancient history."
Gong Je-hyeon always carefully called her Noonim to her face, but he didn't bother with honorifics in front of anyone else. Because the only person he respected and followed was Jin Gyeo-wool—not the other players.
To Gong Je-hyeon, Jin Gyeo-wool was the entire Seoul Team. That fact hadn't changed since the day he first joined.
When Choi Do-yun didn't react as dramatically as he used to, Gong Je-hyeon lost interest and turned his head back toward the phone screen in his hand.
"We will be taking off shortly. Please fasten your seat belts and return your seats and tray tables to their upright positions."
"Passengers, the aircraft will be departing soon!"
Choi Do-yun was just reaching for his phone to watch one of the movies he'd prepared when a flight attendant walking down the aisle stopped dead at their row.
"Sir, could you please raise the seat and fasten the seat belt?"
A quick glance showed that Gong Je-hyeon's and Choi Do-yun's seats were already upright. Choi Do-yun turned his head left and saw that Jin Gyeo-wool's seat was reclined.
Just in case, he gently touched Jin Gyeo-wool's shoulder, but she was too deeply asleep to stir. He didn't want to wake her—even if he worried about being misunderstood. With no other choice, Choi Do-yun leaned over, pressed and held the button on her armrest, and pulled her seat forward.
As he did, the scent rising from Jin Gyeo-wool's body washed over him. A fresh floral fragrance.
"The seat belt as well, please, sir."
"…Ah."
Looking at sleeping Gyeo-wool's waist, he saw there was no belt. Why was Noona testing him like this? To find the hidden belt he'd have to dig around both sides of the seat—and if that got him suspected of trying to touch her thigh or hip, he'd be in serious trouble.
Stay calm…
Think of it as a torture machine that electrocutes you on contact. Just carefully find the belt and buckle it. Nothing else.
Leaning over again, Choi Do-yun felt under the armrests and found both halves of the buckle. With a soft click, the lock engaged. Just as he had with his own belt earlier, he lifted the buckle and pulled the strap taut.
Like a surgeon who had just finished a high-difficulty operation, he made a show of wiping away sweat that hadn't even formed and let out a long breath. Whew.
"Thank you, sir."
"Yes…"
The pretty flight attendant seemed to find the whole thing adorable; she smiled brightly and moved on to the next row.
As he relaxed and leaned back into his seat, the face of Jin Gyeo-wool he'd just seen up close floated back into his mind. Long, full lashes. Even closed, those noble eyes that melted a person's heart. An angel, no question.
But the dream Jin Gyeo-wool carried was far too vast. She was someone Choi Do-yun didn't dare touch—no, someone he mustn't touch. There was also the risk of falling into another pointless misunderstanding like before, so he needed to stay thoroughly careful.
To erase the Jin Gyeo-wool appearance mad-movie filling his head, Choi Do-yun began reciting a Buddhist sutra. It was something he'd taken up to steady his mind after realizing the truth behind their mutual-crush misunderstanding.
Shariputra, form is not different from emptiness, emptiness is not different from form. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form. The same is true of feelings, perceptions, impulses, and consciousness…
It was a remarkably helpful sutra. Every time Jin Gyeo-wool made his heart race, it worked better than any calming pill at settling his pulse.
Before long, both engines of the plane preparing for takeoff on the runway began roaring out jet streams. At the same time, violent vibration filled the cabin.
A loud rumbling noise came from the window side, and Jin Gyeo-wool—apparently uncomfortable in her sleep—let out a small moan.
"Mm."
The plane accelerated at full power, kicked off the runway, and climbed. A moment later, Jin Gyeo-wool's head—which had been trying to escape the noise by turning away from the window—swung toward the center, then tipped hard to the right along with the banking fuselage.
Her small head landed with a soft thud on Choi Do-yun's slightly higher shoulder.
Long, soft hair spilled over the hand holding his phone with a silken rustle, and a thick floral scent bloomed right under his nose.
For an instant his mind went blank—but Choi Do-yun summoned extreme focus and began chanting the sutra at high speed.
Hold on. You have to hold on, Choi Do-yun.
This noona does not like you.
This noona only knows games!
Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā. Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā. Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā. Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā. Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā…!
Roughly translated, it meant transcending the mundane world to attain infinite enlightenment. In other words: become a sage.
With Jin Gyeo-wool asleep on his shoulder, how was he supposed to endure if he didn't become a sage?
Gong Je-hyeon, watching Choi Do-yun break into a cold sweat and flounder beside him, tossed out a single line.
"Hey, Choi Do-yun. Nice, huh?"
No. It was not nice at all.
If Jin Gyeo-wool actually liking Choi Do-yun had been the truth, it would have been amazing. But as long as she was a girl who, like Lee Do-jin, knew nothing but games, situations like this would only create awkwardness between them later.
And so Choi Do-yun, not daring even to turn his head, had to sit ramrod-straight for nearly a full hour until the in-flight meal was served.