Chapter 11
I like swimming. The sensation of the water rushing past my skin feels amazing, and floating on the surface relaxes my mind. Plus, swimming is the reason I was even born.
“I must've been crazy back then when I was young! Not only did I save a drowning guy, but I even married him!”
“Ha! That's my line! If that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have married a swimmer...”
But I hate being a swimmer. It's the main reason my parents fight all the time.
“Your aptitude is impressive. I have no idea how you became a doctor with that brain. You begged me to marry you.”
“I never begged!”
“You did! You stood in front of the women's locker room holding a bouquet of flowers, begging!”
“......”
“Am I wrong?”
“...The situation was different. You were a national team athlete back then.”
“There's no such thing as an eternal national team member!”
Normal jobs compensate for declining stamina with accumulated experience and knowledge as you age. But athletes plummet endlessly after their short peak! If you don't achieve anything meaningful before that, it's even more miserable.
“At least try being a swim instructor.”
“I can't even if I want to. My aptitude isn't for teaching.”
“Then at least do the housework more meticulously.”
“I'm trying.”
If you compete in the Olympics and win a medal, the country gives you a lifetime pension. But if you don't?
“You need to appreciate how lucky you are. Do you think it's easy to marry a talented doctor like me? Even now, nurses and patients are trying to seduce me—”
“I get it, so shut up.”
“If you get it, do better. Don't just think about spending the money I earn.”
“How am I supposed to do better than this...!”
The image of my parents always smiling at each other is now just a memory from my childhood. Also,
“Seon-yeong, look at your mom and you'll understand. Never do sports.”
“Seon-yeong, I will never accept a son-in-law who does sports. Got it?”
“...Yes.”
I like swimming. But I hate being a swimmer.
* * *
“You swim well.”
“I know.”
I responded indifferently to Kang Moon-soo's admiring praise. I'd inherited strong swimming genes from my national team mom and learned it myself, so of course I was good.
“How about turning that aptitude into a swimming career?”
“I'd rather die.”
“That's not just talk, huh.”
“Shaman. Rest up and get ready. We're timing you this time.”
“Got it.”
I'd taught him all the theory. From now on, it was just consistent practice to fine-tune habits and form. It might seem minor, but in races decided by 0.1 seconds, it was crucial. Even my mom, who'd gone to the Olympics as a national team member, retired without a medal because of a 0.2-second gap.
“Ready—go!”
“Hup!”
Splash!
“......”
Watching him swim hard, I felt a vague sense of gratitude. He followed my whims without complaint. It stood out even more compared to my dad, who complained about Mom even breathing.
Thump.
Huh? What was that just now?
My chest stung for a moment...
“Pwah~!”
“Oh, right.”
Beep—
Kang Moon-soo didn't give me time to think about it, so I hurriedly stopped the stopwatch.
“Aigoo... that was tough. How'd I do?”
“Hold on.”
I checked his latest time and was slightly surprised.
It's faster again?
Not long ago, he was a total newbie paddling like a dog in that embarrassing swimsuit. Yet here he was, mastering techniques at an incredible speed even though I wasn't a real instructor.
“So?”
“...Not bad.”
“How many seconds behind you?”
“Four.”
“Kek! Still a long way to go.”
“What? Think about where you started. It was 42 seconds.”
“Comparing to when I was a complete beginner who knew nothing...”
“You're still a beginner.”
If I got serious, it'd still be about five seconds.
“Harsh grading!”
“So work harder.”
“What do I get if I do?”
“Nothing?”
“For real?”
“Totally. Learning to swim now will benefit you. And you should be grateful a decent girl like me is teaching you for free!”
Guys who want to date me are a dime a dozen.
Thump.
Huh? Just now, again...?
Not my imagination. My chest stung again.
“Motivation matters, though. Promise me. If I beat you, you'll never try suicide again.”
“......”
“Can you promise?”
“...I promise. My aptitude will have changed by then anyway.”
“Even if it doesn't.”
“Fine. I promise.”
No matter how hard Kang Moon-soo tried, I wouldn't lose.
* * *
Almost no one doesn't know this, but before P's Aptitude Test machine came out, people wasted their talents as commonly as grains of sand on a beach. Soccer players went into politics. Doctors cooked. Businessmen played baseball. It was a lax society where effort alone could get you decent success, even if not number one.
On the other hand,
“You swim well.”
“I know.”
“How about turning that aptitude into a swimming career?”
“I'd rather die.”
“That's not just talk, huh.”
She'd really tried to kill herself because she hated her aptitude.
“Shaman. Rest up and get ready. We're timing you this time.”
“Got it.”
Now, thanks to P's Aptitude Test, everyone knows their talents. Soccer players stick to soccer. Doctors to medicine. Chefs to cooking. People fully realized their potentials without waste, creating a perfect, efficient society. In other words,
“This is tough.”
A brutal society where half-assing it on talent alone guarantees failure!
“Swimming's tough?”
“All sports are. They have the shortest careers of any profession.”
“Hmm...”
Before the job revolution, athletes didn't retire so young. It was hard to find talented prospects. Take soccer: Argentina's legendary Diego Maradona played for the national team for 17 years. Including youth, a whopping 29! But what if thousands of 'young Diego Maradonas' debuted every year? Forget 17—you couldn't even guarantee three!
That's the modern era exactly.
“Finding another job after retirement is tough too.”
“Yeah.”
Maradona coached for 26 years after retiring, until his death. But that's impossible now! There's a separate aptitude for 'coach.' No room for retired athletes.
“There's another reason.”
“What?”
“It's tough.”
“Same reason.”
“No. Listen. Talent alone isn't enough for national team. Everyone has it overflowing. To not get pushed out by younger rivals, even shitting blood from effort isn't enough.”
“You know this in detail.”
“My mom was on the national team.”
“Ooh! Her name...”
“You wouldn't know her. No medals, so no spotlight.”
“I see.”
I could understand why Song Seon-yeong hated her aptitude.
Nothing much to say. Can't tell her to shit blood like her parents...
Still, to break the awkward mood, maybe some comfort or encouragement?
Decision made.
“I'll make it clear for you.”
“What?”
“If you're at a level where I can beat you, you won't make nationals, let alone medals.”
“What're you saying?”
“I'll put in blood-and-guts effort and definitely beat you. Then find another job, aptitude be damned.”
“...Cocky newbie.”
“That's why I'm a newbie.”
Dad taught me a man's ambitions should always be as big as possible.
“...Thanks.”
“Huh?”
“Didn't say anything.”
“Okay.”
“......”
“......”
My forced bravado just made it more awkward.
* * *
“Kang Moon-soo, come up and solve problem 3 on page 338—”
“Teacher! I'm really sorry!”
“Kang Moon-soo?”
“Today is super important for me, so I have to go right now! I'll explain to the homeroom teacher later!”
“Go? Now? What on earth—Kang Moon-soo?!”
Thud!
Instead of explaining, I kicked my desk, hooked my foot on the classroom window, and jumped out boldly.
“Eek?!”
“Crazy?!”
“What?!”
Screams from surprised classmates behind me, but I'd done this enough to ignore them cleanly.
Crack!
The pre-scouted branch snapped under my weight and impact.
Good!
Without panicking, I stepped onto another nearby branch like stairs.
Creak—
It bent like it would break any second. Experience told me it'd snap in one second if I hesitated.
“Hup!”
I leaped off the bending branch like an acrobat, arcing through the air to land on the ground.
Thud!
“...Perfect.”
No injuries this time.
“Whoa...”
“For real?”
“Insane!”
I waved leisurely at the kids poking heads out the window.
“Don't try this at home! You'll break an ankle or crack your skull!”
Sincere advice from someone driven mad by repetition.
“Jumped again?”
“Yeah.”
“Don't you trust me too much?”
“Shouldn't I?”
Even if I got badly hurt, Song Seon-yeong could rewind time, making it never happen. Without that ironclad insurance, I'd never attempt it.
“...Shaman. Cut the weird talk and hurry.”
“Got it.”
Full sprint to the sports university pool, 15 minutes on foot! Won't boost stamina or lung capacity instantly, but good enough as pre-swim warm-up.
Today's the day!
I quickly changed in the locker room into the swimsuit she bought me, then dove in before cooling down.
Splash!
“Shaman.”
“Get in already!”
By my third lap, Song Seon-yeong arrived.
“Your endurance sucks, but aren't you overdoing it?”
“I'm fine. Got stamina for one lap.”
“No excuses later.”
“Of course.”
We lined up at the starting line. I'd lost countlessly to her before, but this record-breaking time was my chance!
“Rules same as always. Second hand hits 12, exactly on the hour—go.”
“Good.”
I glared at the big analog clock on the opposite wall.
Tick, tock, tick—
Now...!
Splash!
My aptitude was shaman, zero relation to swimming. But I didn't think I was so bad I'd lose to a pro slacking off.
Swoosh~ Swoosh~!
Breathe out through nose underwater, arms...
Everything Song Seon-yeong taught me flashed back. Already muscle memory, but I reviewed each like rumination.
Please~!
I wanted to win so bad.
Tap.
My fingertips hit the wall.
Where's Song Seon-yeong?!
No voice from the usual early arriver gloating.
That meant,
“I finally won~!”
“I won again!”
Splash! Splash!
We popped heads out and shouted simultaneously.
“No you didn't?”
“What?”
“I was faster.”
“Liar. I held back so you'd arrive first.”
“No way.”
“For real!”
We locked eyes in a staring contest, neither yielding.
A few seconds later,
“Fine, say you won. But isn't it embarrassing for an athlete to barely beat a civilian?”
“...Fair.”
“So next time, let's get a referee and do it properly.”
“Deal. No holding back—I'll go all out.”
We agreed on a proper race.