Chapter 20
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Sports Festival (2)
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Dr-r-rk, slam! Crash, bang, clatter!
From early morning, the entire school was noisy as hell, like one massive construction site.
Once a year, all the students were hauling the rickety wooden chairs from their classrooms out to the sports field in one big migration.
"Ha... Can't we just spread some mats under the tent and sit on the ground? This is total bullshit..."
"Ugh, seriously, sweating my ass off first thing in the morning. Such a pain."
Park Geon and Juwon grimaced as they headed down the stairs, grumbling away.
But even as they bitched and moaned, both guys were lugging an extra chair each for the struggling girls from their class, grunting under the weight.
"You say that, but you're still carrying an extra one for the girls."
Siwoo, who'd been listening to their complaints from behind, chuckled.
"Gotta do what you gotta do... Hey, watch the stairs."
By the time they reached the stairs, it was already chaos—packed with students decked out in their classes' flashy, ridiculous custom tees.
Siwoo grabbed his own chair from Class 1's room and hoisted it up with ease.
'Huh...?'
The cold, heavy feel of the metal chair settled solidly in his grip.
Back in third year of middle school sports day, he'd struggled to lift this thing, but now it felt surprisingly light.
"Ooh, Siwoo. Nice stable form there."
Juwon, coming down effortlessly with two chairs, flashed a grin.
"Dude, aren't those two heavy?"
"This? Piece of cake."
Rocking casual, sporty blue jerseys from a famous soccer team as their class tees, they finally reached Class 1's assigned spot.
As they stepped out of the building onto the field, the dazzling May sunshine poured down under a cloudless sky.
The edges of the massive field were already lined with each class's tents, and dust clouds billowed from kids running around everywhere.
"Over here! Line up Class 1's chairs neat and tidy!"
Under the class rep's booming directions, Siwoo set his chair down in the designated spot and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Looking around, the field was already a total festival out of control.
Kids waving pom-poms and cheering props, groups snapping photos here and there.
'Man, so many people...'
Siwoo sat down, chugged some water, but kept sneaking glances toward the Class 2 tent way off in the distance.
Somewhere in that massive crowd, the girl he especially wanted to see today was waiting.
'If I get first place, you can call me whatever you want...'
Iseol's words from that bench a few days ago still echoed in his ears like an auditory hallucination.
Just calling someone by their name casually—what was the big deal?
Yet here he was, palms sweating, heart pounding like crazy.
"Yo, Siwoo! Stop spacing out. Opening ceremony's about to start."
Juwon clapped Siwoo on the shoulder.
"Oh? Yeah, let's go."
"Loosen up a bit. Don't tense up and hurt yourself running later."
"Got it. Don't worry."
Siwoo stood, clenching his fist tight.
It wasn't just for the class's victory.
Today, he had a reason to sprint faster than anyone in the school and cross that finish line first.
Beep—screeech!
With the sharp mic feedback test, the principal's boring speech was about to kick off from the podium speakers.
"And finally, play fair, stay safe, and compete honorably..."
The long, dull speech finally wrapped up, and the real sports festival kicked off.
The field erupted in deafening cheers that shook the ground.
It started light with fun events like musical chairs, group jump rope, and three-legged races, but the kids' competitive fire cranked up the energy fast.
By lunchtime, the first major event drew every eye in the school.
[Boys' Soccer Final: Grade 1 Class 1 vs. Grade 1 Class 4]
"Kyaaah!! Juwon! Juwon!"
The stands were packed with Class 1 girls and fangirls from other classes screaming their lungs out.
At the center of it all was Juwon, black sports headband keeping his hair in check, seriously warming up in his blue uniform.
"Hey, Class 4! If we get wrecked by Class 1 today, you're all dead! Mark Juwon tight! Focus!"
From the opposite side, burly Park Geon in red yelled with veins bulging in his neck, hyping up Class 4.
But his epic rallying cry fell flat—the whistle blew, and it was one-sided from the jump.
"Tackle him!"
Early in the first half, Juwon took a pass at the halfway line and breezed past two defenders.
"Block him! Body check, tackle—whatever!"
Geon barked desperately, but Juwon just smirked coolly.
Wham!
A rocket shot grazed the diving keeper's fingertips and rattled the net.
"Class 1 takes the lead!!!"
"Aaaagh!! What the hell, defense!!!"
Geon pounded the ground and flopped spread-eagle in the dirt.
Juwon, meanwhile, threw up a V-sign and jogged back to the Class 1 tent with a huge grin.
"Nice! Juwon, you're the man!"
Siwoo, cheering from the front row till his throat hurt, jumped up and shook his water bottle.
Juwon ran over for a high-five slap.
"See that? That's class."
"Whoa... Gotta admit it. You're good."
Siwoo gave a thumbs-up in awe, and Juwon swept back his sweaty bangs with a grin before raising both arms to hype the Class 1 tent and charging back onto the field.
Final score: 2-0.
Juwon's brace and Class 1's dominant win.
The lunch bell rang amid Class 1's joy and Class 4's despair.
"Damn, Juwon... You on steroids or what? Why're you playing like a beast today?"
Geon grumbled unfairly, splashing rough water over his sweat-drenched head at the faucet.
Juwon, casually washing his face next to him, snickered and flicked water at him.
"Steroids? Nah, this is raw talent and skill. Practice more."
"Pfft! Just you wait. Tug-of-war later, we'll drag your Class 1 twig-asses through the dirt."
Geon shot a glance at Siwoo's skinny arms and threatened.
"What? I can pull my weight now, y'know?"
Siwoo flexed indignantly, but his friends just laughed it off.
The rowdy, sweaty morning passed, and groups started gathering in clusters around the field.
"Yo! Our class got pizza!"
Class 1 erupted in cheers.
Pizza on the homeroom teacher's dime—for soccer star Juwon and Siwoo, who’d shine in the remaining mission run.
Fittingly, a massive bulgogi pizza box dropped right in front of them.
"Oh, sweet. Love ya, teach! Hey, Siwoo. Grab this and pass it around to the class."
Juwon snatched the hot box and stood with Siwoo.
Trailing behind, Siwoo's eyes kept drifting to the Class 2 tent.
He'd exchanged hellos with Geon, Dasom, and Chaerin from other classes during the morning.
But the one he wanted to see most today—the one he wanted to impress—he hadn't even glimpsed from afar.
Especially since he'd heard from Jiyoon a few days back that Class 2's theme was modern hanbok.
Imagining her with her neat bob haircut in elegant hanbok made Siwoo's ears flush red.
Long story short, Siwoo and his friends never ran into Jiyoon or Iseol from Class 2 during the entire lunch break.
The reason was simple.
Class 2's homeroom teacher was infamous at school for being a strict hardass.
On sports day, he locked down movement between tents for "class unity," even during lunch—no visits from other classes, threatening demerits for anyone who tried.
From afar, Class 2's tent looked closed off, kids huddled together eating bentos just among themselves.
"Bummer... Heard Jiyoon and Iseol look so pretty in hanbok... That old-school teacher's the worst."
Dasom pouted, glaring at the Class 2 tent.
Geon, munching the pizza Juwon and Siwoo brought, sucked sauce off his fingers before speaking.
"So, when's the mission run?"
"Right before the relay, I think."
Chaerin answered, picking at her kimbap with chopsticks.
Geon's eyes widened mid-bite.
"Whoa, right before the relay? Prime time, like main event slot? Whole school's eyes'll be glued then."
He wasn't wrong.
Right before the relay—the hottest, most hyped final event.
Peak atmosphere, maximum spotlight.
'If I draw a crap mission, I'm screwed.'
Siwoo swallowed dryly.
But on the bright side, it was the perfect shot to charge in first, looking cool and confident in front of Iseol watching him.
Juwon snickered at Siwoo's mixed look of dread and determination, handing him a cola.
"Dude, you'll choke on that pizza. Chill your face. Can't control the draw, right?"
Siwoo gulped down the cola, staring out at the field.
"Phew... I'll do my best."
Despite Siwoo's grim resolve, Juwon—who knew him best—just grinned vacantly and grabbed another slice.