Chapter 144
"Our class isn't intense at all, so don't worry about grades—everyone here is super talented anyway!"
She must've been really impressed that we'd shown up early to practice tennis, because the instructor kept sharing all sorts of tips with us. Unlike mandatory liberal arts or major classes, sports electives had a pretty relaxed vibe. In fact, there was this famous biking elective at our school where you just rode bikes during class and submitted a few nominal reflection papers to pass. Kim Junwoo had mentioned taking it.
For now, I set my racket down and chatted idly while waiting. Soon, voices started filtering in as people arrived. By three minutes before start time, everyone was there.
The instructor grabbed the mic, her face beaming with joy. "...This is the first time in my career as a tennis coach that no one's been late..."
A ripple of laughter swept through the group at her opening line instead of introductions. She'd mentioned something similar earlier, so she must've had her share of frustrations. But as she adjusted the mic, her demeanor shifted subtly.
"I'm Kim Yuna, former captain of the youth national tennis team. This is my third year teaching tennis at Korea University."
Applause erupted, mixed with gasps of surprise. She'd talked about U-14 earlier, but a national team alum? Her soft image, speech, and expressions had even evoked a bit of pity, but inside, she was a whole different person. Once she took the mic, she radiated pure instructor energy. The gap between on-duty and off-duty her was huge.
"I'm assuming most of you have little to no tennis experience—or maybe just tried it once or twice. So for our first session today, we'll focus on getting comfortable with the racket and ball."
Rackets varied in size and weight, so I picked up the one I'd just used—it had felt great. Moments later, she demonstrated bouncing the ball steadily on a horizontal racket.
"It looks simple, but at first, the racket can feel super heavy. If you can't gauge the distance, keeping it bouncing consistently is tough."
With that, she lightly tapped the ball high into the air, then seamlessly transitioned into a smash on tiptoes—like water flowing. It sounded like a gunshot despite the gentle swing. The ball rocketed across the court, hit the far end, bounced off the wall, and lost momentum.
"Follow along step by step, and you'll be doing this in no time."
Everyone's jaws dropped—the smash's impact was no joke. In no time? It felt like sweet talk to recruit more newbies. Pros really were on another level. Just think about table tennis tournaments I'd done: regulations often barred former players from competing, which said it all.
Glancing around, some were solo, but most grouped up. As bouncing sounds filled the air, our group's superior athleticism became obvious right away.
"But Seol-ah, you really picked it up that fast?"
"Yeah? I couldn't jump like Baek Sion did earlier, though..."
"That's just Baek Sion having weirdly good reflexes... It's hard to get on your first try. Sion, have you watched tennis matches before?"
Even Park Harin was treating me like some freak, but I answered calmly. Growing up through boys' middle and high school, you always had at least one sports nut around. Soccer was the most common, but there were baseball, basketball, tennis, and even MMA fans.
"I've seen highlights of famous players. Korean ones a few times, too."
"Right? Your form came out perfectly... That jumping serve feels less like a volleyball leap and more like the jump happens naturally... Hard to explain, but yeah."
Park Harin stopped mid-sentence, catching Yoo Seol-ah's expression. Seol-ah, who'd been nodding along attentively, flashed a bright smile.
"Yeah, no idea what you're talking about."
Classic Seol-ah. True to her decisive nature, she just gave up on understanding. Smart move—until your body feels it, words don't stick. And we were having this whole chat while steadily bouncing balls on our rackets. Elsewhere, balls rolled everywhere, eliciting groans as people chased them—peaceful oasis here, though.
The highlight? Park Harin, who wasn't even glancing at her racket or ball. And from her explanations, she seemed insanely knowledgeable about tennis... What was her deal?
Curiosity bubbling, I asked her directly. "...But seriously, this is only your second or third time playing tennis?"
"Me? ...Yeah."
How was she so blatantly suspicious? Her calm tone made it hard to tell truth from lie, but it didn't satisfy my curiosity. Only one option left. I snatched my mid-air ball and glanced at Yoo Seol-ah right beside me. After years together, she'd get my intent instantly.
Our eyes met, and she gave an awkward smile before turning to Park Harin. Seol-ah's subtle look hooked her immediately.
"...Hey, Seol-ah. Absolutely not..."
"No, it's not bad—actually, it's kinda cool... Mmph."
"Seriously, no...!"
Despite not knowing her long, this was the first time I'd heard Park Harin sound panicked. Her perfectly steady bounce had dropped ages ago, and instead of picking it up, she was just clamping Seol-ah's mouth.
"...What's this? First time seeing Harin like that."
Even Lee Seo-yeon’s eyes sparkled at the rare sight. We'd all gotten close enough that it felt like the wild out here. She'd been shrinking at mentions of Doyun hyung earlier, but the second Harin's weak spot appeared, out came the claws—terrifying. No allies or enemies; pure wilderness.
"Mmph..."
Reality? Tiny Seol-ah was just pinned momentarily. Both Harin and Seo-yeon towered over average height, making her look even smaller. Harin's technical gag left Seol-ah breathing fine, but once freed, she still eyed them warily under silent pressure.
"How big a secret is it?"
"No, it's super trivial... Not worth being curious about..."
That just made it more intriguing. Hiding something "trivial" like that? Total curiosity bait. She was way more flustered than when we'd learned Seo-yeon's identity.
"...Harder to spill than mine?"
Seo-yeon saying it herself meant she was hooked.
"No, actually, lots of people already know... Mmph."
"You, just stay quiet for real...!"
Seol-ah seized the chance to blurt but got shut down again. She really couldn't hold back. Maybe Harin's subtle playfulness came from hanging with Seol-ah. But knowing Seo-yeon's secret already, endless hiding seemed unlikely.
Finally, Harin sighed in resignation. "Fine... No, you tell her, Seol-ah. It's weird saying it myself."
It didn't sound bad, and grinning Seol-ah didn't hesitate.
"Park Harin was on that old TV prodigy scout show. 'There's a genius girl who can do any sport!?'"
"...Stop with the impression already...!"
Clearly, they'd teased her with this before—her instant reaction said it all.
"For real?"
"...Well, kinda..."
"Harin was super popular. Recent clip upload on that channel—people saying she was adorable as a kid, begging for updates, but she refuses to appear."
...Seol-ah looked thrilled teasing others. I watched those old show edits sometimes, but Harin on one? Made sense, though—her aura was off. Even as a PE major, she exuded pro-level familiarity. Impressive reflexes for a "normal" person.
Half-broken but clinging to composure, Harin pressed on. "Anyway... That's it. Nothing important."
"Really? Gotta look it up when I get home."
But at Seo-yeon's words, Harin grabbed her wrist, pleading desperately. "No, can you not? There's really nothing to see, just..."
Definitely watching. Even if I skipped it, Seol-ah was geared to show it. Seo-yeon gently clasped Harin's hand back, smiling brightly like she got it all.
"Yeah, I'll definitely look it up. Can't wait!"