What Happened During PE Class
"Alright, sit-ups first! Lie down on the mats!"
Peeep!
At the whistle, everyone paired off and took their places on the mats.
Han Yeoreum lay down demurely on hers as well—knees bent, fingers laced behind her head, the textbook form.
Here was the problem.
How was I supposed to hold her ankles?
If I grabbed them, she'd probably freak out hard enough to blast through the gym ceiling.
Ugh.
I quietly sat at the end of the mat. Then, instead of using my hands, I gently rested both feet on top of her insteps.
"······?"
Startled, Han Yeoreum's eyes went round as she looked up at me.
"I'll just keep my feet lightly on yours like this. Don't worry about the pace—just do your own thing."
"························."
Something flickered in her eyes. In that gaze that had been full of wariness, constantly running away from me since morning, a strange sense of relief seemed to pass through for the first time.
At this rate, wasn't I a total gentleman?
"Everyone ready? Then—begin!"
Peeep!
At the PE teacher's whistle, the sit-ups started.
"Euh, cha!"
Han Yeoreum lifted her upper body.
"One."
She went down and came back up in time with my count.
"Two."
"Three."
"Four."
Huh?
"E-eight······."
"N-nine······."
Her pace had already died completely. Her face was flushed bright red, and her breathing looked like she might pass out any second. Still, she didn't quit midway—she grunted and struggled her way up with a surprisingly stubborn streak.
She's more diligent than I expected.
And then came the fateful twelfth rep.
"Heup······!"
Han Yeoreum's body stopped at a forty-five-degree angle.
Tremble, tremble, tremble.
Her abs had hit their limit; her upper body started shaking violently. And then—
Thud.
She collapsed flat onto the mat. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, and the way she was gasping, you'd think she'd just finished a marathon.
Then her eyes met mine looking down from above.
"······."
"······."
Three seconds of silence.
Ahem. This girl's stamina is seriously terrible.
Even regular girls usually managed over twenty. How was I supposed to react? If I laughed, she'd probably sulk.
While I was fretting over that—
"Whoa, Han Yeoreum."
"That PE uniform fit is insane."
I could feel the guys around us shooting glances her way. With looks like hers, drawing attention was only natural. I casually shifted one step over and blocked their view with my back.
And then—
Peeeeep!
"Done! Next one!"
The PE teacher blew the whistle.
"Good work. I'll count it as twelve."
"Y-yeah."
Han Yeoreum's face flushed as she scrambled to her feet.
Next up: push-ups. Even though the girls' version was done on their knees—
"Euuung······!"
With arms trembling violently, she managed a grand total of three before flopping face-down on the floor.
By this point, I was starting to feel bad for her.
Last was the grip strength test.
"Ha-eup!"
Han Yeoreum gripped the dynamometer and squeezed with every ounce of strength she had, her face contorting as if it might burst—accompanied by a tiny, adorable shout of effort.
Beep-beep.
A number appeared on the dynamometer screen.
15.2 kg
"························."
"························."
Uh. Um.
15 kg?
Was she an elementary schooler?
Han Yeoreum checked her record and, apparently embarrassed, hung her head and fidgeted.
"It's fine. The average for girls is around twenty, so, you know······."
I'd meant it as comfort, but her ears had already turned tomato-red.
"Alright, if you're done, switch!"
By the way, how many was a perfect score on the basic fitness test again? I'd just go up to that.
So embarrassing. This is seriously so embarrassing······!
Han Yeoreum crouched in the corner of the mat, covering her face with both hands.
Sit-ups: twelve. Push-ups: three. Grip strength: 15 kg.
Even an elementary schooler could do better than this!!
The disastrous result of seventeen years of life spent doing nothing more strenuous than breathing exercises.
He's laughing at me, right? He's totally laughing at me on the inside, isn't he?
Yeoreum snuck a glance at Taekyeong. But Ryu Taekyeong didn't really react at all. If anything, when the other guys started staring, he'd even blocked them with his back—and when they finished, he'd casually said "good work."
He was a really nice guy.
Ah, or is he? Wait—is this revenge for the eraser thing!?
That was even more embarrassing. She'd rather he just laughed at her! Was this some advanced psychological warfare where he deliberately gave no reaction to make it even more humiliating!
S-still, I didn't run away and finished it to the end! Good job, Han Yeoreum!
She was consoling herself when—
"Alright, my turn now?"
"Ah, yeah!"
Now it was Ryu Taekyeong's turn. Yeoreum hesitantly approached Taekyeong, who was lying on the mat. Then she stood there with an intensely conflicted look on her face, fidgeting with her hands.
Do I hold them? Or not!?
"Han Yeoreum."
"Y-yeah?"
"Just put your hands loosely on top of my feet. I can manage on my own."
That much she could do. Yeoreum flinched, then carefully rested both hands on the tips of Taekyeong's indoor shoes with a soft tap. Anyone watching would have thought she was placing feathers.
Taekyeong muttered that this was better than nothing and got into position.
Peeep!
The PE teacher blew the whistle.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
"······Huh?"
Yeoreum's eyes went round.
This guy's athletic ability was no joke. Without using any momentum, he went up and down in perfect form, endlessly. Thirty, forty, fifty······. Without his breathing faltering even once, he blasted past sixty in no time.
From Taekyeong's perspective, every time he went up and down, Han Yeoreum's body—holding onto his feet—bobbed along with him, which was somehow kind of funny. But Yeoreum, flinching and startled the whole time, never let go and kept pressing down firmly to the end.
Why is he so good at this!?
It was the same with the push-ups that followed. Lowering until he nearly touched the floor, then rising without any bounce—the textbook of textbooks. Watching him blow past seventy in a minute, Yeoreum found her mouth hanging open without realizing it.
So he's an athletic guy······.
Faced with stamina so completely different from her own, she even felt a strange sense of awe. Then, unconsciously, Yeoreum opened her mouth.
"Y-you're really athletic."
Oh no. Only after the words left her mouth did Yeoreum flinch in shock. Without realizing it, she'd broken through her shyness and the words had just spilled out.
But Taekyeong wiped his sweat with his PE uniform sleeve and answered like it was nothing.
"I've been doing a lot of physical work since I was a kid."
"I-I see."
Taekyeong gave a short laugh in reply.
This atmosphere, this feeling. Wasn't this actually really good!? If it was now, she felt like she could apologize.
And then the final grip strength test. Yeoreum secretly looked forward to it. If he was that good at sit-ups and push-ups, his grip strength would be insanely high too, right?
Taekyeong squeezed the dynamometer. Thick veins rose on his forearm.
Beep-beep.
With the electronic tone, a number appeared on the display. Yeoreum peered at it with eyes full of curiosity.
89.4 kg
"························."
Yeoreum's mouth fell open.
89 kg? Was that even a possible number? When she'd just squeezed 15 kg?
Yeoreum blankly looked back and forth between Taekyeong's hand and the dynamometer. Then the words tumbled out.
"E-eighty-nine? No way! That's impossible! Is it broken!?"
"Huh?"
Taekyeong's eyes went wide. Only then realizing what she'd just said, Yeoreum quickly clamped both hands over her mouth.
What are you saying, Han Yeoreum you idiot!!
You haven't said a single word this whole time, so why are you suddenly yelling!!
But watching the flustered, completely lost Yeoreum, Ryu Taekyeong chuckled.
"Come on, broken? I'll do it again. Watch carefully."
With that, he gripped the dynamometer with his other hand. This time, the left.
Beep-beep.
85.7 kg
"Haa, tsk. Left hand's a little weaker. Anyway, that should be proof enough, right?"
With that one line, the embarrassed feeling vanished completely.
"I-it's real·····?"
"See?"
"Y-you're seriously insanely strong·····?"
"I do hear that a lot."
Huh?
She got the vibe. Han Yeoreum thought.
N-now's the time!
She swallowed hard.
Ah, and also—I'm sorry about today. I get a little shy around people······.
She finished the simulation in her head. She'd naturally complimented him, so now the buildup into an apology. Heck yeah, perfect!
And so Yeoreum parted her lips to speak. But—
"Ah, and also······."
"By the way, Han Yeoreum. This is the first time you've talked to me without running away, isn't it?"
Grin.
At Taekyeong's smile, full of mischief, Yeoreum's face went bright red. And then—
"N-Nariiiii!!!"
Thud-thud-thud-thud!!
In the end, she ran away.
"Hmm. Shouldn't have said that last part."
Left alone, Taekyeong thought. Well. She can talk after all. Watching Yeoreum's retreating back, Taekyeong let out a short laugh.
Maybe this desk-partner arrangement... wouldn't be as boring as he'd thought.
After school.
"Yeoreum, I can't walk home with you today because of soccer club manager stuff. Sorry."
"Ah, no. I can go alone. Good luck, Nari~!"
After waving goodbye as Nari walked away, Han Yeoreum trudged out the school gates alone.
Haa. A sigh escaped her as if the ground itself were collapsing.
I never got to apologize after all······.
On the way home, what happened during PE class kept replaying in her mind. When she'd been surprised by the grip strength number and conversation had flowed naturally—that had been the timing.
I'm sorry. Was that one phrase really so hard? Even she thought it was ridiculous how she'd bolted just because of one little joke from Taekyeong.
Seriously, Han Yeoreum you dummy. Such a chicken······.
Head hung low, heavy footsteps. Her shoulders drooped endlessly. She already dreaded how she was supposed to face Taekyeong tomorrow.
But then—
······Wait a second.
A thought flashed through Yeoreum's mind.
I didn't manage to apologize, but······.
Let's reframe this. I, Han Yeoreum, am a severe case of social anxiety who normally freaks out and runs just from making eye contact with a guy. But today, I actually spoke to a guy first.
— Y-you're really athletic.
And that wasn't all. I'd even managed a natural conversation after being shocked by Taekyeong's grip strength number.
— E-eighty-nine? No way! That's impossible! Is it broken!?
A full two lines—no, more than three lines in a row! Without running away, no less! Well, she did run away at the end, but that doesn't count!
Huh?
Her heart suddenly started pounding. This was a miracle. Wasn't this a great leap in Han Yeoreum's seventeen-year life, on par with humanity taking its first step on the moon!
I-I had a totally natural conversation today? With a guy!
That's right. Even if she hadn't managed to apologize, she'd succeeded in having a natural conversation. With her desk partner, no less!
What, I'm better at this than I thought? I'm actually amazing!?
Her gloomy mood flipped to good in an instant.
Do I... maybe have a talent for being an inssa!?
Yeah, at this rate, apologizing tomorrow would be a piece of cake. No, maybe in a week she'd even be able to trade jokes!
With the miraculous self-rationalization complete, color returned to Yeoreum's face. Her hung head lifted high, and her drooping shoulders squared up.
"Heh heh."
A hum came out on its own. Her steps toward home felt light as walking on clouds.
Beep-beep-beep-beep. Click.
"I'm home~!"
"Oh my, you startled me. Our daughter's back?"
Mom, folding laundry in the living room, looked at Yeoreum with rabbit eyes.
"What's got you in such a good mood today?"
It was no wonder she was surprised—her daughter, who normally came home in "I was so scared, waaah" mode, was striding in so confidently.
Yeoreum kicked off her shoes and strode right up to her mom. And then—
Clack!
She planted both hands on her hips in a magnificent pose.
"Mom."
"Hm? What?"
"From now on, could you not call me regular Han Yeoreum?"
"Oh my, then what should I call you? My daughter?"
"Heh heh!"
Yeoreum lifted her chin and declared with immense pride.
"From now on, call me Inssa Han Yeoreum!"
"························."
Mom's hands stopped moving. Mid-fold of a towel, she looked her daughter up and down as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Did you······ pick up something weird at school?"
"Ah, come on! What do you take your daughter for!"
Yeoreum puffed out her cheeks in protest.
"Today I actually! Talked to a guy! More than two lines of natural conversation! Without running away!"
Of course, she cleverly left out the part where she ran away at the end.
"Oh my, really? What's gotten into my daughter?"
When Mom played along, Yeoreum's shoulders rose so high they nearly hit the ceiling.
"Right!? Even I think I'm amazing. At this rate, don't you think I could run for class president soon?"
Yeoreum huffed a proud snort. But Mom just chuckled and piled the folded towels into Yeoreum's arms.
"Aigoo, well done, our inssa daughter. Before you run for class president, could you put some towels in the bathroom?"
"Ugh! Mom doesn't believe me!"
"I believe you, I believe you. Put the towels away, wash your hands, and come have a snack. There's pudding in the fridge."
Pudding.
At that word, Yeoreum's ears perked up.
"Really!? Mom, you're the best!"
Yeoreum clutched the bundle of towels and scampered off to the bathroom.
"Hehehe, pudding."