There is nothing Miyeon hates more than running.

Shuhua says it’s selfish when the world has bigger problems than her hate for activities that require Miyeon to engage her cardiovascular system. But Shuhua can stuff it, because she thinks bugs are the worst thing since smallpox and that everything in life revolves around Soojin.

Which news flash, it doesn’t.

In high school, her gym teacher would call her Miraculous Miyeon because, by some miracle, Miyeon always had an excuse when it was evaluation time. Once it was the stomach flu. Another time it was a stubbed toe. And, when he had tried to pull a fast one on her, Miyeon ended up with a migraine that left even the school nurse stumped.

By some miracle, when Miyeon went to the academy she aced all her field exams. Running included. Oh, if Mr. Court could see her, a bonafide runner. He probably wouldn’t be surprised that, when she was done with her evaluations, Miyeon refused to run ever again. She even wrote it in her contract – in pencil, because Soyeon refused to sign off on something ‘so stupid’.

But it wasn’t stupid. Not in the slightest. Not when running makes her chest tight, her legs jelly, and the sweat? Don’t get her started on the sweat. It’s terrible. The way it makes her skin sticky and her clothes smell? Maybe if running was effortless, like it is in Tom and Jerry, Miyeon might feel differently.

“Ramen? What’s your status?”

Bent over, hands on knees, Miyeon wheezes. “Pre…s….ent,” she manages as she gulps down air greedily.

“This isn’t roll call, idiot.”

De