A Tight Fit

I was watching YouTube, killing time until I could head out to the gym, when a text came in.

It was a shot of Nellka and me stretched in close together. Nellka, face scrunched up tight, hauling on her own arm. Me, planted behind her so she couldn't wriggle free, holding that arm in place. Through the gap in my short sleeve, my triceps caught the light like they'd been put there on purpose.

A man and a woman stretching with their bodies pressed flush. They looked like a couple. Plenty of people were going to be jealous. In this world, of course, the one they'd envy wouldn't be me — it'd be Nellka. Then again, maybe there were people who'd envy me too. Nellka had to have guy fans, after all.

Even with her face all twisted up in misery, she didn't look bad for a second. It was the face a kid makes in that split second before the tears come, right after a shot. It was incredibly cute. That morning I'd been so locked in on keeping her form from falling apart that I hadn't really seen her expression. I had no idea she'd been that adorable. It was almost hard to believe I was actually living with someone like her.

What even was that emoticon.

A cute little illustrated sticker. It did not match Gwak Hyeona's image at all. No — I wouldn't have figured her for someone who used emoticons in the first place. That was a surprise.

A moment later, Gwak Hyeona sent a link. It was the social media post with the photo. I tapped through, and a handful of likes had already stacked up.

"That was fast."

A million-sub YouTuber, all right. People just poured in.

I lingered on the photo a little longer. Looking at the two of us pressed that close together, something in my chest went warm and soft.

Two hours had passed since lunch. Digestion had settled enough. It was time to train.

I texted Kim Sehee that we should head out, and we met in the living room.

"Let's go, Oppa."

"Yeah. Hey — do you have a separate pair of shoes for the gym?"

"Uh... regular sneakers are okay, right?"

"If they're clean."

At that, Kim Sehee ducked into her room and came back with a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pair. They were sneakers, white as snow, and they looked like they'd never been worn.

"I ordered them online, but the heel was too low so I never put them on. They should be fine, right?"

"Yeah. They fit?"

"They do. Perfect fit."

"Then we're good. Stick them in here."

I unzipped the gym bag and held it out. Ordinarily I wouldn't let shoes go in without a shoe pouch, but they were brand new, so I let it slide.

"Thank you."

Kim Sehee didn't argue. She tucked the shoes into the bag. I zipped it shut and was about to sling it over my shoulder when she spoke up.

"Give it to me. I'll carry it."

"Huh? No, I've got it. You've got to carry the camera."

"I'm not filming on the way, so it's fine. I'll put that in the bag too and take the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠whole thing."

"All right. Fair enough."

I don't turn down a kindness. She'd offered on her own; I had no reason to talk her out of it. Kim Sehee took the bag, slid the camera in, and slung it over her shoulder.

"Shall we?"

"Let's go."

We left the house and walked toward the subway. Kim Sehee filled me in as we went: Choi Yeram's aunt's gym was about ten minutes by car, or twenty-five by transit once you counted the walking. The station wasn't far. Five minutes on foot and there it was. We lucked out — the train rolled in the second we hit the platform.

"Oh. Perfect timing."

"Right? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Nice."

We boarded. I scanned the car. Exactly one seat left. Kim Sehee nudged me.

"Oppa."

"Hm?"

"You sit. I'll stand."

"No, you sit. I'll stand."

"No, really. You sit down."

She waved both hands and gestured at the seat. Guess she was being considerate because I was a guy. The thing was, I actually wanted to stand. Bracing your lower body and riding out the sway of a train is a fantastic bit of work. Perfect for waking the muscles up before the gym.

I was about to tell her I was fine and she should take it when someone cut in.

"Your boyfriend's got a kind heart. Looking out for his girlfriend like that."

A middle-aged man, standing right next to the empty seat. Kim Sehee nearly jumped out of her skin.

"What?! Th-that's not—!"

"Hold on tight. Guys like that don't come around often."

"S-sorry? Um, that's, that's not it at all..."

"You two sit. I'm getting off at the next stop anyway."

Kim Sehee tried to explain, but the man was faster every time. He rose from his seat with a thoroughly pleased smile.

"Thank you, sir."

"Th-thank you."

I bowed to him, Kim Sehee echoed me, and he waved us into the seats like it was nothing. I preferred to stand, but when someone gives up their seat for you, you can't just keep standing there. We sat down side by side, nice and friendly.

With my build, it was tight. This was exactly why I usually avoided sitting. My shoulders ended up pressed against whoever was next to me. I cinched them in as far as they'd go and still made contact. Kim Sehee was one thing, but having skin against a complete stranger on the other side was its own special flavor of uncomfortable. No matter how much I folded myself in, I kept clipping the person beside me.

Eventually our eyes met. A woman about my age.

"Sorry about that."

"Oh— n-no. It's fine."

In my old world, the second our shoulders touched she would've started with the death glare. This one apologized for existing and even went a little red.

I apologized to Kim Sehee too.

"Sorry. My shoulder keeps bumping you."

"It's okay. The seats are just narrow. Can't be helped."

The women in this world all seemed to be kind. Of everyone I'd met so far, there hadn't been a single one who wasn't.

I squeezed my shoulders in even tighter so I wouldn't keep shoving the people on either side. This was quietly turning into a chest workout. Holding the contraction that long, I could feel the tension lighting up through my pecs. Ohh. Upper-body stretch. I basked in the majestic swell of my pectorals.

We passed two stations and got off at the next one. I didn't even glance at the escalator. I headed for the stairs and asked Kim Sehee over my shoulder.

"Stairs okay?"

"Huh? Oh — I don't mind."

"Stairs it is, then."

I took them two at a time. The closer we got to street level, the denser my thighs felt. Power landing clean. The only real shame was that the last stretch through the gate and up to the street was escalator-only. I'd have to settle for walking this part. I climbed without a break, and I could feel my quads thanking me for it.

"Hah— hah— Oppa, you're actually incredible."

Once we hit the street, Kim Sehee caught up behind me, panting. I'd come up at a pretty good clip, and she'd stuck right on my heels the whole way. Thanks to that, I hadn't had to ease off. She'd said she walked an hour a day for exercise, and her stamina was actually pretty solid.

"Tired?"

"Yeah. A little. Tired."

She had to break the words up around her breathing. I waited for her to find it again.

"Whew. A little embarrassing. Hehe. Okay, let's go."

She scratched her cheek, sheepish about the gap in her cardio.

"Sure."

But there was nothing to be embarrassed about. The thing that's actually embarrassing is knowing what you ought to do and still not doing it. Choosing the stairs over a comfortable escalator, even if it was a little hard — that alone was enough to let her walk with her chest out. A challenge is an act of courage. A beginning is something great. Nobody on earth gets to talk down a heart that's trying, a heart that's starting.

Kim Sehee's footsteps headed for the gym. Right then, she looked more radiant than anyone else in this world.

Ding-a-ling.

We stepped into the gym. The bell rang, and Choi Yeram's aunt — Choi Heejeong — came out of the office.

"Hello."

"Oh! Beomjun, you made it. Where's Yeram?"

"She said she had work today, so we decided to come together tomorrow."

"That right? So you brought this one along. Sehee, was it? The one who works with Yeram."

"Yes, that's me. Hello."

Kim Sehee bowed to Choi Heejeong.

"Yeah, yeah. Glad you came."

Choi Heejeong took the greeting, then put on a mischievous look.

"I'll bill Yeram for the membership, so just work out however you like."

I grinned at the jab and answered.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"Oh! Auntie — we were also hoping to film, if that's okay?"

"Go right ahead. Make yourselves at home."

"Thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Choi Heejeong headed back into the office, and I pulled the shoes out of the bag and set them down.

"Change your shoes and hang tight a second. I'm going to drop my stuff."

"Oppa! The camera too!"

"Right, yeah."

I handed her the camera as well. I stowed my bag in the locker room, swapped into my lifting shoes, and headed for the weight floor. Kim Sehee was already loosening up. I walked over and stretched with her. We worked through the muscles carefully, and then the real session started.

Squats first. Feet about shoulder-width, nice and comfortable, and sit straight down. The important part is keeping the back and neck in one clean line — no rounding, no dropping the chin. And you hold it with the idea of driving tension through the thighs.

"L-like this?"

"Yeah. Perfect. Drive up with your thighs, and before your knees lock out all the way, go back down."

Kim Sehee and I stood side by side and cycled the reps.

"Breathe in on the way down, out on the way up."

Her hips dropped, then rose.

"Control it down. Then drive up in one shot."

"Hah..."

I kept watching her body to check the form — whether her lower back was rounding, whether her head was tipping forward. Beginners always make those mistakes. Kim Sehee hit every rep clean.

"Nice form. Five more."

But this kid. She was packing a pair of glutes that were not to be taken lightly.