Minah never thought this would ever happen, but she was actually running away from running.

As in, today was track and field practice, and she had pretended to be ill so that she did not have to see Eunha, Yerin and the rest of her teammates who seemed very pleased with the idea that she was ill. Two weeks into her training and Minah was finally finding her feelings with the track in her academy and the Seoul style of training, yet what she felt was anything but a sense of hope for the upcoming tournaments.

The fact that she was escaping from her main source of stress-relief was, needless to say, reinforcing her stress. Perhaps her brother and best friend from Busan would about it if she were to ever voice out her thoughts, because the Kim siblings were famed for being capable and carefree at the same time. Their parents never believed in a Tiger Mum sort of education, nor did they think that cram school till lates hours would help their children because, frankly speaking, Mingyu was acing his subject and he was a good enough tutor to his hopeless sister in academics. Why would she ever have to worry, being permanently flanked by her all-rounder brother and competent friend?

Besides, if there was anything the three of them prided themselves for, it’s their achievements in sports. Raised as athletes and sporting communities, the three would never shirk their practice even when bad weather hit the area. Jihoon, of course, also worked diligently on his music. How could she tell them that she was playing truant on her training sessions?

So here she was, tremendously ashamed, guilty and stressful over the fact that she was skipping practice for once in her life because she could not stand the subtle signs that the girls had been sending her. What she would imagine her brother and friend to call “stupid girl reasons”. Her bottle beside the field would mysteriously travel up to the top of the bleacher stands, such that she had to run up a flight of stairs to get hydrated before continuing her runs; Eunha still glared at her; Yerin would smirk everytime Nayoung reminded Minah how to correct her running form. She was so distracted by these nonsensical details that she actually fell behind her own record by a full ten seconds in the previous training, earning smug looks from her contemptuous teammates and concerned looks from her more nurturing team captain.

Who knew high school could be so creative in its forms of terror?

What else was she stressful about? Well, the thing beside her right now.

Or more precisely, the person walking beside her now.

Or maybe, another correction. The person beside her, walking her home now.

“Wonwoo, why are you still walking next to me?” She side-eyed the bespectacled bowler who had been following her since recess period that day. He’d very nicely shared with her his packed lunch (rather delicious beef sandwiches) today, and perhaps that was the only delightful detail for the otherwise horrid day.

“I heard from some people on the track and field team that you aren’t feeling well. I figured I should walk you home just in case,” he replied rather matter-of-factly.

Please, Wonwoo. Not this again.

Minah internally groaned at his ever obvious goodwill. Was she too entitled to say that his gestures were getting burdensome?

“Mingyu will be home, so I’ll be perfectly fine,” Minah rolled her eyes at him. He didn’t seem to catch her annoyance, or he was just pretending not to.

“Well, then I can drop by to say hi to him too.”

Why was Wonwoo one of Minah’s sources of stress? The great classmate who’d only been kind and generous to her? Today was perhaps the best demonstration.

“Hi Wonwoo?” Her brother greeted with a questioning look directed at her. She shouldn’t feel that way, but somehow a pang of guilt was surging within her.

“Hi Mingyu. That sounded like a question. Minah seems to be feeling unwell so she’s skipping practice. Just wanted to make sure she’s alright,” Wonwoo said, as any caring and helpful classmate who had fulfilled his job would say. In her head, she was already rapidly cueing the words to get him to leave, but her brother beat her to it.

“Do you want to stay for lunch? I cooked.” Okay, so that was why he was clad in an apron.

Alarms were blaring in Minah’s head. This was precisely the situation that she wanted to avoid.

Her brother seeing her being supposedly close with Wonwoo, and the three of them being in the same space unexpectedly.

Was fate punishing her for not finishing her math assignment from the week before?

“Are you sure? Doesn’t she need to rest?” Wonwoo said calmly, but the shine in his eyes suggested otherwise.

Minah rather take up her brother’s suggestion at this point than to face a moody Mingyu all alone.

“It’s completely alright!” The siblings said in unison. Amused by how in sync they were, Wonwoo gave them a wane smile before entering the apartment, greeting while arranging his shoes simultaneously. Gosh, so he’s well-mannered too? Wonwoo was making it extremely difficult for Minah to dislike him at this point, and that only added to her frustration.

The tension in the apartment was thick between the siblings, but Wonwoo seemed to be blessed with some form of immunity to uncomfortable atmosphere. The first thing he did was to ask Minah where her room was, before whisking her in to settle down. Mingyu didn’t utter a single word as he returned to the kitchen, but Minah was sure he was eyeing them warily. A quiet Mingyu was never a normal Mingyu.

Out of basic courtesy, Minah showed him around her humble room. There wasn’t much, really. Just a couple of athlete posters, a shelf to display her trophies and a rather messy table. Her closet was open, displaying minimally maintained sets of jeans, graphic t-shirts and sports wear. She closed it hurriedly in embarrassment.

“Your room feels very homely, and very you.” Wonwoo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as they darted around her room. Minah hoped desperately that she wasn’t blushing. Outside in the kitchen, her brother seemed to be especially rough on the pots and pans today.

“Is he alright in the kitchen? There seems to be a ruckus going on,” Wonwoo asked, seemingly perturbed by the noise outside.

“Oh, he’s more than fine,” or not, “he’s an excellent chef.”

Wonwoo nodded to the fact and did not comment further.

Of all days, Mingyu just had to contradict her statement almost immediately. On her plate was an omelette rice, or some semblance of it, terribly overcooked and barely wrapping the badly scorched rice below. Minah did a quick visual scan around the table and needless to say, only hers was in a bad state.

“Sorry, was experimenting.” Her brother hardly bothered to hide the edge in his voice. Minah flinched. Just yesterday, Mingyu was spazzing over his newly perfected omelette rice recipe, ready to welcome her home from the training that he did not know she would skip. She was sure her brother could tell she was not ill at all, but what she feared was what he thought her reasons were.

“Hey Minah, do you want to switch with me? Mine is just right,” Wonwoo said as his arm began to reach over. Minah immediately protected my plate.

‘It’s alright. You’re the guest. Besides, this is to my taste.” Minah replied lamely. From her peripheral view, she noticed that her brother’s expression harden.

Oh my.

Lunch went on in a pin-drop silence, with the two males wolfing down their food while Minah was barely touching hers. She had wanted to returned to escape her problems, not to come home to another one.

“What are those in the corner?”

Wonwoo’s crisp voice broke the silence in the room and raise