265 - Joint Training Camp
The Academy Tournament's joint training camp spans a total of two weeks. The main matches broadcast to the public take place during the second week. In the first week, participants from both academies gauge each other's strengths through joint training. They inspect whether any students are using dangerous magic, run mock battles, and strategize with the faculty on exploiting the opponents' weaknesses.
This year's tournament is being held at the Alteer Foundation's stadium. To board the buses heading north, students from elementary through high school divisions gradually gathered at the foundation headquarters' central auditorium.
"Look over there! Those kids look like second-years, but they didn't even greet us and are just huddling together chatting. I couldn't have imagined that back in my day!"
A sixth-grade elementary student squinted one eye and grumbled.
"Isn't it the fourth- and fifth-graders' job to manage the second- and third-years?"
The girl beside her let out a quiet sigh.
"Leave 'em be. Let's see how long they keep it up."
"We didn't act like that..."
"Then, big sis, big bro, why don't you come over here and stand in line properly?"
""Huh?""
The twelve-year-olds whipped their heads toward me in unison at my cautious remark.
Seferon Academy
Elementary Division
I plastered on a calm expression while shouldering the heavy guidance sign. Unlike its cute chick illustration, the thing was made of stainless steel and weighed a ton.
"Whoa, it's NoName!"
"Nami! You're participating in the tournament too, huh!"
"Damn, the second-years are guaranteed a win now. So jealous."
"Oof, that must be heavy carrying it all the way here? Let sis help. Heave-ho!"
"Yeah, thanks."
Why are kids these days growing so tall? The second- through fifth-graders were all clustered amiably together, but I wandered the gym forever looking for the last sixth-grade participants. The group I thought was middle school turned out to be sixth-graders. With boys and girls both over 160 cm, no wonder I got confused. The first-year middle schoolers actually looked more elementary-like.
"Nami, what's with that name tag?"
A boy pointed at my name tag necklace. Unlike the elementary division's yellow chick badge, mine had the middle division's green lizard.
"Oh, this? From the training camp until the tournament ends, it means I'm your big sis and big bro senior."
That was when it happened.
Bang! The door next to the podium flew open. Three students in neatly pressed Seferon Academy uniforms—two guys and a girl—stepped out. The kids froze on the spot.
"It's the high school student council..."
The boy swallowed hard. That kid who'd been griping like a little old man earlier now looked like a fawn spotting a ferocious beast.
"Ahem. Seferon Academy students."
The murmurs began to die down. Though some local chatter lingered here and there. The student with the mic scanned us sternly, face serious.
"Quiet."
"..."
"Are we heading out for a field trip or what?"
His voice dropped low, mimicking a training camp TA, echoing through the hall.
"Each and every one of you represents our academy. Engrave that deep in your hearts. Stay quiet indoors and move in an orderly fashion under student council guidance. That's all."
"Elementary second-years, follow me in order!"
After the graduating seniors' dignified instructions, we boarded the waiting buses outside the gym one by one. Excluding candidates, there were 50 tournament participants total. It was rare for everyone from second-year elementary to second-year high to gather like this even once a year.
Admiring glances from the young students toward their seniors crossed with the curious scans from older kids eyeing their juniors.
"Huh?"
Just before boarding, some kids waved vigorously at me. Second-year elementary friends—Yuna and Haru.
"Namiii! Isn't Nami riding?"
"The bus is leaving soon?"
"Kids, hurry up and get on. People are waiting."
Under the student council seniors' guidance, they boarded the elementary bus without hearing my reply.
Vroom—
The elementary bus pulled away with the chattering little ones, and I savored the crisp autumn breeze watching their receding figures. Such energetic friends. I hoped that spirit lasted through the tournament.
"Ah."
Scratching my head, my hairpin ornament caught the wind and clattered to the field.
"Hey, you dropped this. Here."
A faint voice from behind. Sounded like the mic guy from the high school student council president. I turned—yep. A fairly handsome guy with a neat pompadour held out his hand. He was a bit taller than my brother. Looking up at him was starting to hurt my neck.
"Thanks. You're Shin Jin-ho senior, right? I've heard a lot about you."
"You know me?"
I chuckled at his surprised head tilt.
Of course. Back in April, he made it to the round of 16 in the national athletics tournament. Seferon Academy's top fighter and the pride of the Raon Clan. And...
"You're Shin Yeon-ho from Korea University Theoretical Magic Department's little brother, right?"
"Yeah, that's me."
What? That's it? I'd hoped to chat a bit via mutual connections, but his curt reply killed the conversation dead.
"Bus is leaving soon. Made a seat for you, NoName."
"Oh, okay."
The gruff guy led me to the middle-high bus. His brother's from Alteer, but he's at Seferon. Wonder if they fought like crazy growing up. Too awkward to ask, so I zipped my lips.
"Wait... what do you mean you 'made a seat' for me?"
A sudden unease made my legs stiffen. Shin Jin-ho took a couple steps ahead before answering flatly.
"Car seat."
* * *
Peeking through the curtain, a vast Han River vista unfolded outside. The sunlight-glistened water flowed like the Milky Way—stunning.
The curtains blocked the sun for our sleep-deprived academy teens, and I leaned back into the kids' car seat. Never riding a chartered bus again.
"What kind of law is this? If you're gonna enforce it, do it cleanly by age group. Or classify by vehicle type. No consistency."
"Hehe, that uncomfortable? We're almost there, so hang in there, our tough Nami!"
"It's not discomfort. Sigh... whatever."
A sigh escaped me. I had no idea car seats were mandatory in Korea for my age group. Chartered buses on highways require them for under 130 cm. Road Traffic Act and Passenger Transport Business Act say so—nothing to do but comply fully. All safety rules are written in blood, so probably some past fatality like this. No wonder my waving classmates looked tall sitting down. Their bus must've had seats prepped for second-years too.
"I was shocked when middle school heard you'd joined as a candidate. Picked via mock prelims, right?"
Shin Jin-ho, now awake, unfolded his arms and joined our chat.
"Jeez, when'd you wake up? And it's not like we're shipping off to war."
"War? Yeah, this is war. Take a look at the kids up front."
Sitting at the back with the council, I glanced where he pointed. Some kids dozed against windows, but others yanked their hair, jiggled legs, bit nails—every flavor of nerves.
"What do you think?"
"Overall gloomy. Kinda deflated."
"Same here."
"So, what's your point?"
At my blunt question, he hesitated before speaking.
"Last year—2050—was our final tournament."
Makes sense. Council president and VP are third-year high schoolers, college prep time.
"Me and our VP Eun-byeol here have been through all ten tournaments."
"You've been at the academy a long time."
Ten years—first-grade elementary to third-year high is twelve total. Their whole lives invested here.
"How many do you think we won out of ten? Know our historical record?"
"Nope. Don't look up old stuff."
"Our grade won seven out of ten. But overall? Two wins, one draw, seven losses. Pathetic, right?"
"Bad luck across generations, huh."
"Lots think that. Still do. But after three straight losses, we can't say it either."
"True, as one academy family, blaming each other looks bad. But isn't process more important than results?"
"Yeah. But results are what they are. Last win was eight years ago. Almost no one remembers."
"Ah..."
My eyes widened. Eight years ago—no wins for current elementary and middle kids?
"Hey, Shin Jin-ho. Why dump such heavy stuff on her?"
"NoName. You're a genius, right?"
"Pardon?"
This council president looks like Shin Yeon-ho but acts like a fourth-dimensional Ban So-wol. No predicting what he'd say next—I tensed up.
"I figure Seferon and Alteer students are about equal. So why do we keep losing? I've obsessed over it."
"What do you think, senior?"
"I concluded it's student council and ops committee negligence. So I ran for president to win this damn tournament before graduating."
"Hmm. Can a week's practice really create that big a gap?"
"..."
I got the vibe. Couldn't find answers, so pinned blame to force change.
"Go on."
"Once defeatism sets in, it poisons the whole academy. No culture of seniors leading and juniors supporting."
"In other words, rampant individualism."
"Exactly. So, NoName—I have an earnest request for this tournament."
"What?"
"Ear here."
Shin Jin-ho whispered his plan. Meanwhile, Vice President Choi Eun-jeong shook her head.
"Of course."
"Think you can?"
"Beating people into shape has always been my specialty."
"What? Hey, Shin Jin-ho! What'd you ask Nami?!"
"Not beat! I didn't ask that!"
"Don't worry. I'll whip the Seferon kids into shape."
Something told me this tournament was gonna be fun.