Chapter 22
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Sports Festival (Complete)
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After barely shaking off Iseol, who persistently grilled him about the mission details, and fleeing back to Class 1's tent like a refugee, an even rowdier atmosphere awaited him.
"Hey, you crazy bastard! You finally became a real man?"
"The whole school saw you holding hands with Baek Iseol and running? How did her hand feel?"
As soon as he stepped into the tent, Juwon and Park Geon pounced on him like wild beasts, locking him in headlocks.
More excited than usual with their teasing pranks, Siwoo's face—which had just calmed down—flushed red again.
"Agh, I can't breathe! It was just because of the mission, I had no choice!"
Siwoo struggled and desperately made excuses, but there was no way those guys would listen.
Instead, the other boys in Class 1 crowded around, slapping his back in welcome.
Siwoo groaned as if it hurt on the outside, but a secret smile crept onto the corners of his mouth.
Meanwhile, the situation at Class 2's tent wasn't much different.
As soon as Iseol—who had been dragged by the hand to the middle of the field and become the center of attention for the entire school—returned to the tent, Jiyoon and the other girls swarmed her like they were waiting.
"Hey, Baek Iseol! Are you crazy? Why did he drag you along?"
"What was the mission? Why didn't the announcer reveal it till the end?"
Faced with a barrage of questions, Iseol slightly furrowed her brows and swept back her disheveled bangs.
"I don't know. They didn't tell me either till the end. Dragged me along and it was really annoying."
Iseol snapped at them curtly as if it was no big deal, just like usual.
The kids dispersed with disappointment at her reaction, but Iseol stealthily wrapped her opposite hand around her right hand carefully.
'Seol-ah, let's go!'
Suddenly, Siwoo's voice from earlier echoed in her ears like an auditory hallucination.
Him running toward her, breathing heavily.
The usual awkward and hesitant Nam Siwoo was nowhere to be seen.
And before she could even respond, her hand was grabbed.
"..."
Iseol's gaze quietly turned to her right hand.
It was a normal hand that had been fiddling with her phone just moments ago, but when completely enveloped in Siwoo's hand, it felt unusually small.
'His hands are bigger than I thought...'
She hadn't noticed because he always slouched, but he said he exercised every day, and his build felt quite large too.
On Iseol's usually expressionless face, a very faint smile appeared and vanished unbeknownst to anyone.
Before the commotion from the mission run had even settled, the announcement over the mic called for the eagerly awaited runners for the grade relay.
"Phew... Seeing the size of the third-year seniors makes me nervous. I'll be back?"
Juwon, who had finished preparing, stood up from his seat with a groan.
"No first place, don't come back."
To Siwoo's cold joke—after getting second place just now—Juwon chuckled and ruffled Siwoo's hair while he was sitting.
"Wow, look at that personality. You already forgot I grabbed that soccer jerk by the collar and made you win? Give me first."
"...At least second."
"Seo Juwon from Class 1! Hurry!"
"I'm off."
At the call, Juwon waved his hand and dashed through the sand wind to the field.
His back—joining Park Geon who came out from Class 4's tent opposite and walking to the starting line—looked particularly reliable today.
'As the representative for first-years... pretty cool.'
Siwoo watched the representatives from each grade lightly greeting each other and warming up at the starting line, chin propped on his hand, sitting in the front row of Class 1's tent.
All of them tall and straight, confident without a wrinkle, ignoring others' gazes.
It was as if special lighting shone only around them, making them glow.
"...I'm jealous."
It was a soliloquy that slipped out unknowingly.
"What?"
Startled by the sudden languid voice in his ear, Siwoo whipped his head around.
Baek Iseol, who should be at Class 2's tent, was now sitting cross-legged in the empty chair next to him.
Black hanbok pants, long legs stretched out casually, and her usual inscrutable indifferent expression.
"Uh, when did you get here? No, how..."
"Just now. Said I was going to the bathroom and slipped over here. Class 2 kids are too noisy, tiring."
She replied nonchalantly, furrowing her brows at the sunlight slanting through the tent gaps.
"Ah..."
As she raised her white hand to shield her eyes.
Swish—
Siwoo reflexively extended the plastic fan Juwon had given him, creating a gentle shade over Iseol's face.
"...?"
"Uh... the sun's hot. Want to use this?"
Siwoo awkwardly averted his gaze, gripping the fan tightly.
Iseol looked alternately at the small affectionate shade over her head and the tacky fan in Siwoo's hand.
"...Name."
"Huh?"
Iseol snatched the fan with a flick, curling her lips crookedly.
"Why did I lose my name again?"
"...!"
Siwoo flinched at her words.
Her deep dark eyes stared at him intently.
"That... earlier I didn't get first. Said I'd call it if I got first..."
"Hah. Earlier when you grabbed my wrist and ran, you called me Seol-ah just fine?"
'She remembered...!'
Siwoo had hoped maybe she didn't hear amid the urgency and cheers, but that hope shattered.
Flustered, Siwoo flailed his arms in the air, babbling incoherently.
"Ah, no! That was so sudden, it slipped out without going through my brain...!"
"Whatever."
Iseol fanned her face leisurely with the snatched fan, cleverly hiding her mouth behind it.
"Just call me like that from now on. Did I really put a condition not to call my name?"
As Siwoo just moved his lips silently at her permission.
Tweet—!
The whistle signaling the start of the relay echoed across the field.
Iseol had already turned her head to the field, naturally shifting her gaze to the track.
"It's starting."
First-year, second-year, third-year.
The aces representing each grade burst off the track simultaneously.
But as expected, the seniors' experience and physique couldn't be ignored; the first-year team fell to third from the start.
"Ah... as expected, seniors are fast. This looks dangerous..."
Siwoo muttered anxiously, half-standing from his seat.
His palms were sweatier than when he ran earlier.
Beside him, Iseol fanned lazily and said indifferently.
"Why worry so much. We have our guys behind anyway."
No sooner had she said that than Juwon, the third runner, received the baton.
"Woooaaah!! Seo Juwon fighting!!"
Cheers erupted from the first-year tent.
Juwon charged with strides that didn't yield to the second- or third-year seniors, kicking up dirt fiercely on the track.
In an instant, he overtook the second-year senior and closed in right behind the third-year leader.
And then the anchor, Park Geon.
Siwoo's eyes widened; he'd never seen Park Geon seriously focus on anything except going to the snack bar.
Thud—!
Receiving the baton from Juwon, Park Geon exploded off the track with phenomenal speed.
"Wow... he's really fast..."
An exclamation slipped from Siwoo's mouth.
"That guy's the one who gave up pro to follow us, so he's on another level from normal people."
As she said, Park Geon overtook even the third-year senior on the outercourse before the final corner.
The field shook with first-year cheers.
Siwoo, completely immersed, jumped up, clenching his fists and shouting.
And beside him, instead of watching Park Geon sprinting on the track, Iseol stared fixedly at Siwoo's cheering side profile, chin propped.
"That fun?"
To Iseol's low question, Siwoo nodded without taking his eyes off the track.
"Yeah! Did you see Juwon and Geon overtake the seniors? Super fast!"
Watching Siwoo chatter brightly with a big smile, a small chuckle escaped Iseol's lips.
Thud—!
Park Geon crossed the finish line first, raising his hand high to clinch the first-year win.
"We won!!"
As Siwoo jumped in joy, Iseol fanned her face lazily and murmured softly.
"Well, not bad."
With Park Geon's thrilling comeback victory, the first-years earned extra points.
As a result, adding the points accumulated since morning plus extras, Year 1 Class 1 clinched the overall sports festival championship.
Even their usually aloof and prickly homeroom teacher Ha Taemu coughed awkwardly and smirked as he received the prize money in front of the principal.
Thus, their heated first-year sports festival came to an end, and as the kids returned their chairs to the now-empty classroom.
The sky above the school was already starting to dye in deep orange sunset hues.
After stuffing themselves at the all-you-can-eat meat place they often went to for sports festival after-parties.
"Agh, my poor body. Tomorrow I'm sleeping all day for real."
Dragging his pale, ragged body, Park Geon led the way, patting his belly.
Friends still buzzing from the sports festival heat chattered noisily behind him.
Naturally ending up at the back of the group, Siwoo's gaze flicked to Iseol walking right beside him.
Whether from the red sunset glow or lingering heat.
A faint pink tint lingered on Iseol's white face more than usual.
"Um... Seol-ah."
"What."
To Siwoo's cautious call, Iseol slowed her steps and turned her head.
Her bob hair swayed softly, sparkling in the sunset.
Compared to before, when she'd just glance at her phone and reply half-heartedly even if he called, it was huge progress.
"Earlier... during the mission run."
"..."
"Sorry for suddenly grabbing your hand and dragging you. You must've been really surprised."
Siwoo scratched the back of his head awkwardly, apologizing in a small voice.
He'd felt guilty all day for dragging her—who hated standing out in front of crowds—in front of the whole school.
Iseol stopped and stared at him blankly.
As Siwoo's heart shrank, unable to read the meaning in her deep black eyes.
Iseol let out a light chuckle and resumed walking forward.
"You know, that's fine. For someone who couldn't even get first, calling my name freely and grabbing my hand."
"Ah... really sorry."
As Siwoo bowed his head and drooped his shoulders.
Without stopping, Iseol added in a small, low voice only for Siwoo following.
"But well, it wasn't that bad."
"...Huh?"
Siwoo looked up startled, and Iseol swept her bob behind her ear, glancing at him.
"So, if there's something like this next year, definitely get first then. Then I'll really forgive today's stuff."
She tossed it playfully and walked ahead, her steps oddly light.
And Siwoo following didn't notice that her ears—pretending indifference as she walked away—were redder than the sunset.