Author's note:

Hey everyone. It's been a bit of time, huh? This chapter is a little longer to make up for it. Thanks for subscribing and commenting. It really makes the writing worth it. I hope you guys keep it up :) I've been having a lot of things to worry about in real life. You'd think the end of exams would be liberating but in reality it isn't... Sigh. Writing this chapter was a bit fun, though. If there are typos, I'll go back and fix them tomorrow. Right now I just want to rush this chapter out to you guys. Slow build is slow, right? Haha. There are hints here, at least. Thanks for sticking around.

Seulgi mostly forgets about Sports Day for a while and let’s herself get swallowed up by the unrelenting routine that is the normalcy of school life. Day in day out, studying, listening to teachers talk, scribbling things into her notebook without really understanding, doing homework and not understanding slightly less but not really caring much about it.

The only shock comes when she wakes up a little late (which is still on time since her new usual time is really just early enough so she can meet Soojung on the way up the hill) and opens the classroom door to find Kang Jiyoung sitting on Soojung’s desk, the two of them seemingly having a merry conversation as Soojung sits in her seat, neatly tucked, as per her usual stance, right as far into the desk as she can.

Jiyoung notices her first, out of the corner of her eye, which makes sense since Soojung is good at silently creeping into rooms but terrible at noticing what’s going on in them. (It’s weirdly, dorkishly endearing.)

Seulgi knows Jiyoung sees her because her expression flickers with some semblance of annoyance before turning back to Soojung and pretending that last few seconds never happened. Even when Seulgi walks up to them, there’s no response.

Seulgi clears .

“Morning,” Soojung says.

“Morning,” Seulgi replies.

“Yes, good morning, Seulgi,” Jiyoung says.

Seulgi, obliged to reply politely, says back, “Good morning, Jiyoung.”

Jiyoung smiles prettily and turns back to Soojung. Soojung’s smile, at Seulgi she sees, isn’t quite apologetic, but it’s not exactly panicked or guilty either. 

Seulgi clears again.

Jiyoung turns her head. “Yes? Is there something I need?”

“Just wanted to get to my desk.”

“Then go ahead,” Jiyoung says. “It’s not as if I’m blocking you.”

Technically, she isn’t. This is the worst part. At least if Jiyoung stole her chair to sit somewhere close to Soojung, Seulgi could have an excuse to be mad at her. But she didn’t and Seulgi just feels annoyed instead.

Her saviour ends up being a girl from another class. She calls Jiyoung out to discuss something. (Who knows what? Jiyoung is about as much of a social butterfly as Seungwan. Seulgi actually wants to know why she isn’t class president instead. But whatever. This is how things are now.)

Seulgi gives Soojung a glance over. The girl seems fine.

“I didn’t know you talked to Jiyoung.”

The last time they talked, Soojung was being cornered in a music classroom.

“I was just returning some of her stuff. She lent me a book after we had lunch and it was good. I got through it faster than I expected. We were talking about it. She has good taste.”

Seulgi says, “You ate lunch with Jiyoung?” 

What she actually means is when did you eat lunch with Jiyoung? Soojung seems to grasp the subtext though, this time at least.

“While you were doing preparation-y things for the sports festival with Seungwan the other day. I wouldn’t have a packed lunch left over if I hadn’t gone to the cafeteria. I know I like food a lot, but even I don’t eat that much, you know? I don’t bring a three person lunch to school with me everyday.”

So Seungwan convinced Soojung into giving up her lunch? Or at least she paid for Soojung’s lunch in the cafeteria that day. The consideration was nice, but it must have also meant that Seungwan went in without much of a plan. Improvising things on the sport was impressive in a sense, but Seungwan’s impulsiveness made Seulgi a touch nervous without really understanding why. Maybe it’s the talk about Jiyoung.

Soojung smiles up at her. “Jiyoung’s kind of nice.”

“No, you’re nice,” Seulgi corrects. “You’re too nice.”

“I thought you said Jiyoung made up for whatever it was that happened earlier in the year?”

“She did technically, but people who start those kind of things leave a bad taste in my mouth.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about.”

In Seulgi’s experience, people only said that sort of thing when there was definitely something to worry about.

“She wanted to go over the music selection for the choir competition with me,” Soojung continues explaining. It’s nice to see her so willing to talk, but Seulgi still wishes Kang Jiyoung wasn’t the cause of it. “How well I can play and so on. If I needed an easier arrangement or something. Stuff like that. And then we just talked about normal things. School and life and whatever.”

“Oh,” Seulgi says, mouth dry. “Okay.”

“Did you and Wendy manage to do everything you needed to do?” 

Seulgi blinks. “What?”

“For Sports Day,” Soojung clarifies.

“Oh. Yes. No. I don’t know. I think only Seungwan really understands what’s going on there.”

Soojung giggles. “I figured.”

Sports day.

Seulgi curses the day she ever decided to strike up a conversation with Son Seungwan. If she hadn’t maybe she wouldn’t be here today, somehow, and mostly unwillingly, Seungwan’s appointed right hand for, and she does quote, an afternoon of ‘sporting domination in this esteemed scholastic building’.

“We’re going to win,” Seungwan declares, a class president with all the boundless, blind self-confidence of an actual president. “I know it.”

Seulgi still wants to know who voted this girl in. Her own fault for being an apathetic voter, apparently. She can practically hear her brother chirping in her ear. This is what you get for being a complacent part of the system. Extend your power over the political process. The revolution starts from below. And so on and so forth. Seulgi’s getting a headache already. She’s glad he got into university and everything (right not it seems like more than she can say for herself) but, wow, what a major he picked. (It’s nice he likes it, but Seulgi is still concerned about the employment prospects.)

In any case, Seungwan looks eager and fresh-faced as ever, so enthusiastic it’s a little scary. Seungwan’s usual chipper grin is a little scary to begin with, even when it’s her usual face, but that might just be Seulgi’s opinion as a person who sometimes (usually) lacks in independent motivation. 

She shouldn’t complain so much anyway. As much as she thinks this is going ridiculously overboard, she’s still here. She could walk away at any point, really, she’s just too attached to Seungwan to really leave.

Soojung pointed out as much. (The little brat, even if she was taller than the both of them, however barely it was by. Seulgi paid attention to those things.)

“Yep,” Seungwan repeats. “Definitely. Victory. Ours. It’s going to be great.”

Seulgi nods and takes a sip of her energy drink, overseeing the throngs of people dashing to and fro, getting into position, putting up banners and flags and waving around cardboard signs, with clipboards and stop watching and headbands to sop up the sweat that comes with the brisk touch of heat in the air today. It’s not much, but it makes having to stay outside all day rather pleasant.

“Don’t you want to hear why?” Seungwan says.

“No, I’m good,” Seulgi says. “I’ll let myself be surprised by you.”

Seungwan feigns blushing and then says, again, “But don’t you really want to hear why?”

“I—”

Seungwan ignores her and goes on, clearly not up for Seulgi’s attempts to troll and quash her speech. She’s like a tiny supervillian, ready to rant about how perfect all her plans are. Seulgi feels like her tired henchman. (It’s not like it’s a totally inaccurate summary of their relationship either…)

“Because we have a secret weapon.”

Yeah, Seulgi definitely doesn’t want to know.

The starting gun sounds, a sharp bang that can’t quite echo through everyone’s cheers, and the runners take off in a sprint. It’s only the hundred meters so it’s over in what seems to be a flash. A burst of legs all thundering against the ground and pretty soon it’s over and everyone who ran is keening over, panting, wiping the sweat off their brow.

“Yes! She did it! We won!”

That seems to be the general topic around their little block, their homeroom team.

“Holy she’s good,” someone in the homeroom crowd shouts. In the mix of all the people chanting, Seulgi can’t tell just who it is.

Seungwan starts a chant.

“Say it forwards, it’s Jung Soojung. Say it backwards, it’s still Jung Soojung. Jung Soojung, go!”

Seulgi is actually pretty sure Soojung will die from embarrassment (or maybe heatstroke since her blush is just going to be made worse by the sun pounding down) before the chant will have any good effect. The rest of the class joins in, shouting so loud that Soojung must hear them—she’s hiding her face in her shirt, pulled up from the collar to her eyebrows under the pretence of wiping sweat from her face.

“Oh my god!” Soojung yells across the field, and in English too. Then back to Korean, “Stop it!”

“If you want us to stop,” Seungwan says with a grin that’s too wide to comforting, “you should make us! After your race! And the faster you run, the faster your race is over! Next race! Come on, next race! Keep it up.”

She starts the chant up again and Soojung groans, stamping her feet on the ground, like a mini tantrum. It’s beyond adorable.  

Another classmate calls, “Save that energy for the running!”

After that, Soojung sets a 200m sprint record and proceeds to keep Seungwan in an uncomfortable headlock for as long as it takes for two members of the class to pry them apart and shepherd Soojung off the her next event.

That day, Soojung is singlehandedly responsible for at least forty percent of all their points. She would win more, Seulgi supposes, if the class wasn’t running her ragged in event after event. The fact she still manages to do well at all is testament to her ability, especially the long distance. (Who the hell goes in for both long distance and the sprints? Soojung is good at high jump too. It’s vaguely absurd how many events Seungwan has shoehorned her into, track and field alike.) 

Everyone fawns over her with chilled towels and sports drinks and fans and snacks and the attention just gets her more flustered until Seungwan has to periodically shoo them all away. Seulgi doesn’t exactly blame any of the class. (She kind of wants to do it too.)

It’s not like their school is particularly known for it’s athleticism, though, so Seulgi supposes beating everyone else shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It’s what she’ll tell Soojung anyway if she gets upset at everyone talking about her, even if she also thinks, like all those people doing the talking, that Soojung is pretty goddamn amazing.

It pains her to admit, but she’s actually enjoying herself.

Seulgi’s own events pass by without much fanfare. She doesn’t win win any of them, but she puts up a respectable performance that gives the class a nice bit of points if she does say so herself. Soojung gets a whole team of people delivering her foods and drinks and towels, but Seulgi is just getting hugs, pats on the back and the occasional water thrown in her direction. It’s probably for the best. She doesn’t even know how Soojung is dealing with this much attention.

Then it’s time for the relay.

The most important event of the whole day by Seungwan’s apparent reckoning, at least in terms of symbolism, because it’s the most ‘dramatic’ event of the whole, well… event.

It’s the finale to a whole day of cheering. Seulgi has to admit, yes, the spirit is kind of consuming. It’s…fun. At the very least, if the class’s big pile of points isn’t pleasing enough, watching a flustered Soojung deal with the whole class (and some people from rival classes) cooing at her and talking about how amazing she is was pretty enjoyable.

Then—

“Wait. I’m in the relay too?”

“Of course you are, Seulgi,” Bomi informs her. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Seulgi’s not good at running, but she has great hand-eye coordination,” Seungwan explains to no one in particular and the whole class at the same time. Since the relay is the centrepiece finale of the day, everyone is interested in what exactly is going on. The fact Soojung is involved in no big surprise to anyone, except maybe Soojung who seems to be on her last leg in terms of putting up with Seungwan’s crazy schemes. “It’s crucial to put people who can cleanly pass the baton in, so that we don’t waste any time on a bad transfer. Then Soojung can sprint in the last leg and clear things up for us.”

Actually, Seulgi really should know she’s in the relay. She did practice baton passing the other day, when they got the day off to practice but at the time she just sort of assumed she was there as a filler to help the other people practice for the event instead of actually being one of the participants for the real deal. 

“I’m really tired,” Soojung says in something more akin to a whisper, to Seungwan. Seulgi overhears, of course, because Seulgi somehow always ends up not quite uncomfortably close in proximity to the both of them. (It really is just how things turn out.) “I’m not sure I can do this anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s our last event. Then you’re free,” Seungwan assures.

“I’m really, really tired,” Soojung says, and then chews on a mouthful of bread that someone pushes into her hand. She stops whining for a moment and, distracted, just enjoys the taste. Seulgi thinks she’s pretty yo manage, all things considered.

“Just one more. You don’t even have to do it yet. You’re still got time to rest and the bread is good, right?”

“It’s really good.”

“Well don’t eat too much right now. You’ve got time but you don’t have that much time. We don’t want you throwing up on the track.”

Seungwan snatches the bread, plastic wrapper and all, from Soojung’s hand. “I’ll keep this safe for you until you’re done running. It looks like you took some really big bites already anyway.”

“Hey!” Soojung whines and pouts.

“Come on, just do one more race.”

“I don’t wanna,” Soojung says, slurring her words, cheeks puffed out in protest.

Seulgi is weak. “Don’t make her do it if she doesn’t want to,” she tells Seungwan who immediately looks offended and betrayed that Seulgi would even dare contemplate taking their ace of out any race.

“Do it and I’ll buy you meat,” Seungwan says to Soojung and only Soojung, pointedly ignoring Seulgi. “If you win, I’ll take you out to barbecue.”

Seulgi can see the switch flick in the back of Soojung’s mind. It’s simultaneously adorable and concerning. Soojung is very food motivated, she reminds herself and files away the important with additional highlights and notes in the storage locker at the back of her brain.

Soojung wins, of course. Meat was on the line. Seulgi makes sure to find a weekend she’s free and hopes to high heaven that Seungwan won’t make her pay for her share.

After the confetti rains down from party poppers and Seungwan is presented with a trophy as representative of the whole class, everyone gathers around into a big pile and hauls Soojung in the air, cheering and bobbing her up and down as she sequals.

“Say it forwards, it’s Jung Soojung. Say it backwards, it’s still Jung Soojung. Jung Soojung, go!”

“Oh my god,” Soojung deadpans and hides her face behind her hands. “Oh my god.”

Seulgi eventually, with Seungwan’s help, convinces them to put the hero of the day down. Soojung goes off the change her sweat soaked shirt. She didn’t bring one, so Seulgi lends her a spare. Seulgi waits for her to get changed, guarding an empty classroom so no one mistakenly goes in. 

The T-shirt fits decently well and there’s no real sense to it, but Seulgi just thinks she looks really good like that: Soojung that is, in Seulgi’s clothes. At least, she means Soojung looks nicer in the clothes than Seulgi does, even if their Seulgi’s own clothes. (It’s a weird train of though so she shuts it down as soon as she can.)

“Were you good at sports in your last school?” Seulgi broaches the subject as off-hand as she can manage, as casual as she can make her voice sound.

“Yeah, Wendy was asking about it last week. I guess I know why now.” Soojung gives a cute shrug before attempting to down the rest of her drink.

That liar. Oh, Soojung rides a bike to school everyday so she must be athletic. More like I know Soojung’s a super athlete because she told me. She almost went and believed that Seungwan had amazing powers of observational deduction.

“Thanks,” Soojung says. Seulgi has a feeling it’s about more than the shirt, but she doesn’t really know how to say that any more than Soojung.

“No problem,” she says.

Soojung smiles.

As always, it’s like light.

She waves goodbye to Soojung who, the poor thing, has to cycle back home. The stiffness from a whole day of intense, Seungwan mandated sports probably won’t set in until she stays still for a while, so Seulgi can only assume she’ll survive the journey. She’s about ready to leave too when she realises that she’s left her phone in her desk. She heads back to the classroom only to fine it not as empty as she thought it would be.

Some girls are changing into fresh shirts too. They’re also loitering (why wouldn’t they, everyone is tired) and talking. Seulgi doesn’t really know how to create the right moment to walk in and get her stuff so she doesn’t. It’s a problem.

She doesn’t exactly set out to do it, but she’s trying to reach a good point in the mood of the room to interrupt and she ends up overhearing what they’re saying, their voices becoming more recognisable with how close she is to the door and the thin glass that separates them. (Also, not really her fault. They’re talking pretty loudly and they didn’t even set up a guard to watch the door.)

“Pretty, smart, athletic, that’s the whole package,” she hears Eunji say. “Soojung’s almost too good to be true.”

“By that reckoning, so’s Seungwan,” Bomi says. “Just sub out athleticism with musicality.”

“Just figures Seulgi would be friends with both of them.”

“Well, it’s not like you can hate on Seulgi for it. The three of them match pretty well.”

What was that supposed to mean? The more logical part of Seulgi’s mind informs her it seems like a compliment but something in the back of her brain keeps pushing, irrationally fretting about some possible double meaning that phrase could have.

“You can say that again,” someone says, wistfully, and Seulgi’s not paying enough to be able to discern who that person is.

She should stop anyway. What’s listening to other people’s conversations really going to do for her? She knows she’d hate it if they did the same. She should go. She should leave. She should be the better person.

But she doesn’t. She can’t. She keeps listening and she doesn’t know why when there really isn’t any point of it. They end up talking about a drama Seulgi doesn’t watch on TV and some idol groups Seulgi has never heard off and when the conversation topic starts to creep, slowly, from flower boys on screens to boys in real life, in schools, in neighbourhoods and church and oh the boys they talk about, boys and feelings and an intimacy of friends that Seulgi knows she shouldn’t be intruding on. It’s then— then Seulgi finally snaps out of her daze and leaves, phone be damned. She still has her train card on her. That’s enough to get home.

She doesn’t need to listen to that. She shouldn’t listen to that.

She doesn’t want to listen.