“Line up properly, everyone!”
Mu-ryeong raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and gazed at Hwan-young. His skin was pale, almost bloodless, yet his lips were a deep shade of red—strikingly beautiful. Even the way he swept his hair back with one large hand looked like something straight out of a professionally taken photo shoot.
“Damn, he’s really good-looking...”
Even Seung-joo, who had been watching alongside him, muttered as if entranced. Mu-ryeong couldn’t deny it and simply replied, “Yeah, I know.”
Hwan-young’s jet-black hair shimmered under the sunlight, while Mu-ryeong’s own hair, though dark, had a slight brown hue to it. The difference in texture and shine was obvious.
“If he had a better personality, he’d be crazy popular.”
“Wait, Ki Hwan-young? He’s already popular, though.”
A classmate standing ahead of them chimed in immediately. Seung-joo, still resting his chin on Mu-ryeong’s head, shifted his gaze toward the speaker. His sharp chin pressed firmly into the crown of Mu-ryeong’s skull.
“The guys don’t like him because they think he’s rude, but really, he just doesn’t talk much. His actions are actually fine. I mean, yeah, it’s annoying as hell when he ignores you, but...”
Even as he spoke, the classmate kept sneaking glances at Hwan-young. Though he stood in the middle of the dusty field, a wind sweeping across the schoolyard, everything around him felt frozen—time itself seemed to still in his presence.
“Besides, when you three hang out, a lot of people fall for him just by watching how he treats Mu-ryeong.”
“Me?”
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“Yeah. He always responds when you talk to him. It makes people think, ‘If I were dating him, would he treat me like that too?’ You know, being treated specially just for being his person.”
“...Oh.”
A murmur of realization escaped Seung-joo’s lips. He immediately understood the logic behind it.
If Mu-ryeong was friendly to everyone regardless of who they were, then Hwan-young gave the impression that he only opened up to certain people—making any form of attention from him feel exclusive, almost like a privilege.
“That actually makes sense.”
“Right?”
The two nodded in agreement while Mu-ryeong, trapped under Seung-joo’s weight, shifted his eyes in confusion. He couldn’t tilt his head due to the weight pressing down on him. Falling for someone because of how they interacted with him? No matter how he thought about it...
“I don’t think he treats me that differently, though.”
All he had done was constantly talk to Hwan-young and pester him until he got a response. If it had been someone else instead of him, Hwan-young would have probably acted the same way.
“Yeah? Then name one other person who can drag Ki Hwan-young off to lunch like you do.”
“Well... that’s just because he’s nice enough to let me.”
Correction—since he was the only one who dared to reach out to Hwan-young, maybe it was difficult for anyone else to try.
“You’re the nice one.”
The classmate shot him a deadpan look, cutting off any chance for Mu-ryeong to refute the statement. Left without a proper response, Mu-ryeong simply rolled his eyes and decided to steer the conversation in a different direction.
“But is it really better for your partner to be nice only to you? Wouldn’t it be better if they were kind to everyone?”
The classmate shook his head. Seung-joo, too, clicked his tongue as if Mu-ryeong was clueless.
“If my boyfriend treated every girl kindly, I’d die of jealousy.”
“...Really?”
Jealousy. Now that was an emotion completely foreign to him. He had never coveted anything that belonged to someone else, nor had he ever envied others. Naturally, he had never experienced what people called “jealousy.”
“It’s not like I want him to be mean to others. I just want him to treat me a little better than everyone else.”
A delicate balance. Mu-ryeong might have understood if he had ever liked someone before, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. While others were busy experiencing their first loves, he had spent his youth honing his spiritual energy.
The idea of someone he liked treating others well? It would probably... mean nothing to him.
“In that case, Mu-ryeong, you’d be a terrible boyfriend.”
His classmate declared this with the utmost seriousness. Mu-ryeong merely laughed, entirely unbothered. Even when they added, “Whoever falls for you is going to be so frustrated,” he remained indifferent.
Surprisingly, Seung-joo, who had been silent for a while, let out a hum of agreement.
“Still, Kim Mu-ryeong is more popular than you’d think.”
“Which is exactly why he’d make a terrible boyfriend.”
The conversation continued, but Mu-ryeong paid little attention. He shifted his gaze elsewhere, but with Seung-joo still using his head as a chin rest, moving too much was difficult. The pressure was starting to get a little painful.
As he absentmindedly let his eyes wander, they naturally landed on Hwan-young.
“...”
He blinked. Slowly.
Mu-ryeong narrowed his eyes.
Hwan-young had his head turned away, staring at something in the opposite direction.
‘Just now...’
For a moment—just a moment—Mu-ryeong could have sworn their eyes had met.
“Class 7! I said, line up properly!”
The conversation ended when the class president’s booming voice echoed across the field. Seung-joo finally released Mu-ryeong and took a few steps back to fall into formation.
With that, the students rearranged themselves into a proper lineup. Once satisfied, the respective class representatives stepped forward to lead the warm-up exercises.
Even when Mu-ryeong glanced back at Hwan-young, he still wasn’t looking his way.
Mu-ryeong found himself staring at him repeatedly, missing the timing for his stretches not once, but three times.
But by the time all the warm-up exercises were complete, Hwan-young never once looked back at him.
***
“......”
“......”
Mu-ryeong felt a light touch at the hem of his gym uniform, someone carefully adjusting their grip. Holding a dodgeball in his arms, he let out a quiet chuckle, barely more than a breath. The person behind him, whose hold was so light it was barely noticeable, sighed softly.
“...Haah.”
“Kim Mu-ryeong! What are you doing? Throw it already!”
Cheers and shouts filled the air, echoing across the wide dodgeball court. Mu-ryeong squinted, feigning an expression of distress, as he glanced around. Across from him, pairs of students—one boy and one girl—stood in formation, and to his right, a friend was waving frantically, signaling for a pass.
“Mu-ryeong! Hurry up!”
Having no other choice, Mu-ryeong took a step forward and passed the ball. The student in front of him was standing awkwardly, but he had no real intention of targeting them.
The moment his teammate caught the ball, they immediately hurled it at a male student standing just a few feet away. The sound of impact was loud enough to make the entire court wince.
“Ow! Damn, that hurt for real!”
Current score: 5:6.
The opposing team had five pairs left, while Mu-ryeong’s team had six. And out of those, Mu-ryeong and Hwan-young were still standing.
Mu-ryeong slowly retreated toward the edge of the court, moving in sync with his partner. Behind him, Hwan-young readjusted his grip on Mu-ryeong’s waist, sighing again.
“...Hoo.”
To understand how they ended up in this position, they had to rewind about fifteen minutes—back to when the PE teacher had finally shown up, tossed a dodgeball into the air, and blown the whistle.
"Today, we’re playing paired dodgeball. Girls attack, boys defend. You’ll pair up, and if the boy gets hit, you’re out. Partners will be chosen by drawing lots."
At first, Mu-ryeong hadn’t given it much thought. Paired dodgeball was something they had played often, and he had never lost a match—not even once. Whether it was paired dodgeball or regular dodgeball, it was all the same to him.
"Alright, pick your lots."
Mu-ryeong had only hesitated for a second. That was when he spotted Hwan-young standing in the line for third-year boys.
Paired dodgeball required physical contact—the defender was supposed to hold onto their attacker’s waist for protection. It was the Ki Hwan-young, the most untouchable person in the entire school. How was someone like him supposed to play dodgeball?
At that realization, Mu-ryeong subtly counted the number of students present and took a small step back. Luckily, Hwan-young was standing at the very end of the boys’ line.
A moment later, the PE teacher frowned as he checked the roster.
"Hmm, the numbers don’t match up."
That was Mu-ryeong’s chance.
He immediately stepped forward. The teacher, who had just lifted his head, spotted him and casually gestured. Then, he uttered the exact words Mu-ryeong had been hoping to hear.
"Mu-ryeong, you’ll have to take a girl’s role today. Just use one hand instead."
Mu-ryeong nodded as if he had been waiting for this moment. Without hesitation, he picked a lot. Then, after seeing the number Hwan-young had drawn, he used his natural charm to swap lots with a student from Class 3.
Acting as if it were a mere coincidence, he casually paired up with Hwan-young.
Hwan-young didn’t even bother hiding his disbelief.
"...You switched, didn’t you?"
"Yeah."
There was no need to lie. Mu-ryeong decided to be shameless about it.
"Isn’t it better for you to be paired with me?"
Hwan-young didn’t reply. But his silence was as good as an agreement.
And so, the two of them entered the court together. Like everyone else, Hwan-young took his position behind Mu-ryeong, gripping his waist lightly.
From the opposing team’s side, Seung-joo let out a single comment upon witnessing the scene.
"Wow. That looks ridiculous."
He wasn’t wrong.
With Mu-ryeong standing in front, Hwan-young’s tall figure was completely exposed—his head and broad shoulders towering over him. It was like standing behind a lamp post and calling it cover. Even though other pairs had a similar formation, Hwan-young was just too big for it to look normal.
“Pass! Pass it here!”
“Over here! Throw it this way!”
Now, despite the ridiculous setup, Mu-ryeong and Hwan-young were playing an exceptionally stable game.
As a minor handicap, Mu-ryeong kept one hand behind his back. Even so, catching and dodging the ball was no problem. Hwan-young, despite his size, had incredible reflexes, effortlessly avoiding every attack.
“Woooooah!”
Another pair was eliminated as the ball struck its target.
Now, only two pairs remained on the opposing team.
Meanwhile, on Mu-ryeong’s team, only he and Hwan-young were left standing.
Mu-ryeong glanced up absentmindedly—only to immediately grimace when he saw Seung-joo in the outfield, holding a dodgeball in his hands.
“Ugh, getting hit by Seo Seung-joo hurts...”
He had meant to say it to himself, but suddenly, Hwan-young tugged at the hem of his uniform. Then, leaning in, he murmured softly into Mu-ryeong’s ear.
“Just dodge it. I’ll take the hit.”
Huh.
So Ki Hwan-young wasn’t the competitive type.
Even with all those sharp, intense eyes watching them—eyes that practically screamed ‘If you lose, you’re dead’—he was still saying something like that.
As the two stood close, whispering, Seung-joo shouted across the court, making an exaggerated demand.
“That’s cheating! Sacrifice Ki Hwan-young already!”