EAR Ch 5

“Of course not. I’ve never lost to you.”

Instead of getting angry at that, Seungpyo rolled his eyes in annoyance, then suddenly chuckled.

“Well, I guess that’s true.”

When Jaemin unexpectedly agreed with his teasing remark, his aggressive demeanor faltered slightly, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. However, it wasn’t that Seungpyo was suddenly being lenient—he was simply finding the situation amusing.

Lowering his gaze as if to ponder the bet, Seungpyo thought to himself, Does he really think he can beat me at basketball? Is he mistaking a basketball game for preparing for an exam?

Always coming in first place after expensive tutoring and countless hours at academies, maybe Ryu Jaemin lacked a sense of reality when it came to these things. He probably thought that as long as he put his mind to it, he could excel anywhere.

The idea of someone like Jaemin—a complete rookie on the court—arrogantly proposing a bet was laughable. Even if Ryu Jaemin were a basketball prodigy straight out of a comic book, it would still be impossible for him to make enough progress in just a few days to compete with Oh Seungpyo.

After all, Seungpyo had been consistently approached by the basketball coach since middle school with enthusiastic invitations to join the team. Though he had no desire to dedicate himself to sports, he couldn’t let an amateur who took basketball lightly off the hook. Sometimes, people like Ryu Jaemin needed to learn that the world wasn’t so forgiving.

“You’re exhausting to deal with. I was going to let it go, but you’re clinging to me like a dog with a bone.”

“…”

“But it is entertaining. Fine, we’ll do it your way. But your conditions are too dull.”

“…Then?”

“Win or lose, you end up breaking even. Returning a phone you picked up isn’t something you should flaunt as a favor in a bet—it’s only natural. If we’re making a bet, we should add at least one more condition.”

Breaking even no matter the result. That was, in fact, why Jaemin, despite having no chance of winning, had been bold enough to propose the bet.

Of course, he’s the one who holds grudges, Jaemin thought, mentally cursing Seungpyo, who was clearly deliberating over an additional condition. What ridiculous condition is he going to add this time? I don’t want to regret suggesting this bet.

“Let’s do this.”

As he spoke, Seungpyo raised his hand, pinching his thumb and middle finger together in a circle. When Jaemin blinked in confusion, Seungpyo helpfully added an explanation.

“If you lose, ten flicks to the forehead.”

With that, he snapped his middle finger against his thumb in the air. Jaemin found himself involuntarily staring at Seungpyo’s hand. His long fingers were prominent with bony joints, and his nails were neatly trimmed. From his love of basketball, it was clear his hands weren’t particularly gentle.

Before and after proposing the bet, the possibility of experiencing physical pain had never crossed his mind. He was nervously wondering what kind of petty or dirty condition Oh Seungpyo might add, but the additional condition turned out to be much simpler than expected.

“Will it hurt a lot?”

Though his strict father had occasionally disciplined him, Jaemin had never been flicked on the forehead. He’d played games as a kid where classmates hit each other’s foreheads, but the difference between a child’s hand and Oh Seungpyo’s hand in size, hardness, and potential power was stark.

“Why? Are you scared?”

As the silence dragged on, Seungpyo pressed him again. Jaemin shook his head as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

How bad could it be, anyway? Even if it hurt as much as ten forehead flicks as a punishment in a game, how bad could it possibly be? No matter who won, if the bet ended with just getting flicked, it would still be a fair deal for Jaemin.

“Fine.”

“You’re the one who suggested the bet first, so no backing out.”

With that, Seungpyo snapped his thumb and middle finger together forcefully, as if testing them, and muttered to himself.

“When I used to do Taekwondo, I could break wooden boards with this…”

“Is threatening people a hobby for you?”

Jaemin felt a slight chill but pretended to scoff in disdain. Seungpyo smirked silently, as though he’d been joking. It had to be an exaggeration. No matter how strong someone was, they couldn’t break wooden boards with their fingers.

Still smiling, Seungpyo took a step closer. He tilted his head slightly, leaned in, and gently brushed Jaemin’s bangs with the tips of his fingers. Though his fingers didn’t even touch Jaemin’s skin, his forehead and brow suddenly felt itchy, like they were crawling with anticipation. The strange ticklish feeling made Jaemin frown reflexively. Seungpyo, still grinning, lowered his voice and whispered.

“You’re done for now.”

Though it sounded ominous, his tone was playful. Before Jaemin could respond, Seungpyo straightened up, took a few backward steps, opened the locked door, and added one last snarky remark while laughing mockingly.

“Practice hard. Not that it’ll make a difference.”

Jaemin wanted to counter that you never know until you try, but he held his tongue. The odds of winning were practically zero, and acting cocky without the skills to back it up was something better suited to a perpetual second-place loser. It was time to stop stooping to such childish provocations.

With that, Oh Seungpyo left the resource room. Jaemin ran his hand through his bangs, where someone else’s fingers had brushed, smoothing them down.

📚

Thunk, thunk, thunk.

Every time the heavy ball hit the polyurethane-coated floor and bounced back up, a clear and rhythmic sound echoed. It was lunchtime, and six kids who had wolfed down their meals in under ten minutes were moving busily within the rectangular basketball court.

Ryu Jaemin was the model student of all model students, always keeping his uniform neat and tidy without even unbuttoning a single shirt button. But now, his shirt was unbuttoned to the point that his collarbones were exposed, his tie was loosened and discarded, and his sleeves were rolled up as he dashed frantically across the court. His uncharacteristic appearance was enough to catch the attention of even those in the classroom. One student murmured to himself.

“If this were a co-ed school, there’d probably be a ton of girls watching him right now.”

It was still winter, but the bodies of the eighteen-year-old boys running around with the ball quickly heated up. Despite the cold weather, some were even sweating.

A boy holding the ball suddenly raised his arm as if he was about to shoot and jumped into the air. Jaemin blocked him and jumped up as well. However, instead of throwing the ball, the boy twisted his body quickly, dodging past Jaemin and slipping behind him.

Surprised, Jaemin immediately gave chase. The boy who had tricked him dribbled the ball at full speed toward the hoop, but Jaemin, who had started late, was faster. Just as the boy stretched out his hand to shoot, Jaemin had already caught up with him. The ball, now close to the hoop, hit Jaemin’s hand and bounced to the floor.

“Ah!”

The ball, now without an owner, fell into another player’s hands. Instead of running, the player immediately shot from where he stood. As the ball soared, all eyes on the court focused on it.

Thunk! The ball hit the rim instead of going through the net and bounced out. Jaemin quickly leaped up and pushed the ball into the hoop.

Goal!

Jaemin mentally cheered as he landed back on the floor. Scoring a goal after just one day of practice—he thought even he wasn’t doing too badly. Turning with a face full of delight, he saw the other boys running on the court approach him, smiling, and shout out.

“Foul!”

Jaemin’s triumphant expression turned to wide-eyed confusion.

“Why? Isn’t that a rebound?”

“This is half-court, and we’re only using one hoop right now. If you grab the ball and shoot immediately, it’s a foul. You have to either dribble at least once or pass it.”

“I didn’t know.”

Jaemin, who had been thrilled thinking he had scored, felt slightly deflated. However, the laughter of the boys surrounding him grew even louder.

“Hey, but that’s not important! Anyway, when we play Class 4, it’ll be full-court, and this time it was just because you didn’t know the rules. Dude, you’re doing so well.”

“Are you sure this is your first time playing basketball?”

Finally, Jaemin laughed out loud too and clapped hands with the others. After running hard, the cold and crisp winter air felt incredibly refreshing. His first basketball game with friends was far more fun than he had anticipated.

Last night, he hadn’t been able to fall asleep right away, even after lying in bed. It was something he’d get scolded for if his parents found out, but he had spent the night with earphones in, secretly watching basketball videos, completely losing track of time.

He had never enjoyed watching sports games before, but thinking of it as preparation for playing himself, everything suddenly felt new. He used to think it was foolish for people to run around so desperately over a single ball, but after learning about strategies and rules, it didn’t seem foolish at all. In fact, it was a game that required not only physical skill but also quick thinking.

“I studied a bit yesterday.”

“If you watched one online lecture and got this good, you’re a genius.”

“At this rate, the basketball team might recruit you.”

As they chatted excitedly, a line of boys from another class had formed next to the court, waiting for their turn. One of them, holding a ball, shouted in annoyance.

“You guys have been playing for 20 minutes. It’s our turn now.”

The schoolyard only had two basketball courts, and one was always taken by upperclassmen, so even for half-court games, securing a spot was competitive. Jaemin and his Class 2 teammates had claimed the court by running over as soon as lunch began, but now it was time to hand it over to the Class 4 boys.

Delaying here might rattle the opposing team’s focus a bit, but they had agreed to prepare for the match fairly, so the Class 2 boys left the court without protest.

“Hey, Ryu Jaemin.”

Jaemin was about to leave the court with his jumper in hand when Oh Seungpyo called out to him. Instead of replying, Jaemin turned his head to look at him.

“Put on your padded jacket right now. If you catch a cold wandering around like that, I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

Why would he care if someone else got a cold? If Jaemin caught one, wouldn’t that be a good thing for Oh Seungpyo? While Jaemin grumbled internally, Oh Seungpyo started snapping his thumb and middle finger together, as if flicking the air, as if warming up for a forehead flick. The boys nearby looked at him curiously.

“What are you doing? Finger exercises?”

“Yeah, I need to stay perfectly ready, without losing strength.”

“Well, you could sprain a finger playing basketball.”

Then the boys started mimicking Seungpyo, flicking the air with their fingers as if it was some kind of warm-up exercise. Oh Seungpyo had this talent for dragging people down to his level of ridiculousness. Without bothering to hide his feelings, Jaemin clicked his tongue coldly, his expression unamused.

As Jaemin turned his back, the kids from Class 2 flocked after him in unison. Standing at the center of the group, Jaemin seemed to have naturally become their leader. As they moved away, the kids from Class 4 entered the court and began murmuring among themselves.

“Hey, doesn’t Ryu Jaemin seem better than we thought? He’s been practicing hard too.”

“Yeah, seriously. I thought we’d have it easy since he said he’d never played basketball, but it doesn’t look like that’s the case. He might even be better than Hyeongseo.”

“I thought the only guy who was good at both studying and sports was Oh Seungpyo, but that kid’s pretty impressive too.”

At the joking admiration of one of the kids, the corner of Oh Seungpyo’s brow twitched. Watching the direction where the Class 2 kids had disappeared, Seungpyo let out a small, dismissive laugh.

“So what if he’s decent? It’s not like Ryu Jaemin is suddenly going to become the ace or anything, right?”

“I’m just saying, let’s not let our guard down.”

“Exactly. He’s not bad for a beginner. Let’s get back to practice.”

As Oh Seungpyo clapped his hands once, standing in the center of the court, the chatter among the group subsided, replaced by serious expressions. Even if it was just a casual game for fun, for high school students bogged down by constant studying for college entrance exams, this was a significant event.

The teams split into threes and decided the starting possession with rock-paper-scissors. The first turn went to Seungpyo’s team. As he stepped onto the court, even the kids playing on the adjacent court, others across the schoolyard, and those inside the building turned their attention to him.

The gazes directed at Jaemin earlier were filled with curiosity, as if marveling at a rare, unseen sight. But the eyes on Seungpyo carried a wide range of emotions—stable affection from those admiring something familiar, longing or envy tinged with jealousy, and even irritable disdain from those wishing to push him off the stage.

Unbothered by the hidden audience, Oh Seungpyo calmly passed the ball. The recipient wasted no time and passed it on to another player. As Seungpyo dashed forward to retrieve the ball, the opposing team prioritized marking him above all else. Unable to pass to Seungpyo, the player holding the ball opted for a direct shot. The ball hit the rim with a dull thud and bounced off.

The ball soared high into the air and fell back down. Players scrambled to grab the rebound, but Seungpyo, who had been the first to move, seized the ball. This time, instead of passing, he immediately raised his arms and aimed for the hoop. The ball arced gracefully, slicing cleanly through the net.

“Whoa, a three-pointer.”

“That was so clean.”

Students watching from the classroom windows let out exclamations of admiration. The kids from Class 2, now back in their classroom, had become spectators, gazing out over the schoolyard. Even in the winter cold, a few kids had sweated enough to change out of the T-shirts they wore under their uniforms.

Jaemin, who rarely perspired at school, didn’t carry a spare T-shirt. He briefly glanced at the kids changing their clothes before turning back toward the window. He noticed the dark neckline of the shirt underneath Oh Seungpyo’s uniform collar, but couldn’t tell if it was the same one Seungpyo had used to wipe his nosebleed.

Unlike Jaemin, who was preparing to focus on defense near the basket, Oh Seungpyo roamed the court freely. One moment, he was shooting a three-pointer from afar, the next, he was making a layup directly under the hoop. Sometimes, he even broke through multiple defenders to score solo. Jaemin, still unfamiliar with watching basketball games, felt dizzy trying to keep up with the rapid changes in position and speed.

In the past, he wouldn’t have even been able to tell whether someone was good or bad, nor would he have cared. But now he could see it clearly. Seungpyo was on a completely different level, as if he could join a professional team right away.

It seemed impossible to win. Even though Jaemin was the one who proposed the bet, he was already feeling defeated. Basketball was a team sport, so even if one player was inexperienced, luck and teamwork could turn the tide. Still, the idea of beating someone like Oh Seungpyo felt nearly impossible—something even the other kids watching from the classroom would agree on.

Even so, the reason Jaemin had proposed the seemingly futile bet was exactly as Seungpyo had said. Losing wouldn’t cost Jaemin anything. On the off chance he won, he could make Seungpyo delete the photos he had and even get an apology from the annoying guy.

Maybe, as Seungpyo had pointed out, erasing the photos in this day and age wouldn’t mean much. But Jaemin didn’t believe that admitting one’s wrongdoing was meaningless. Every time he’d had to acknowledge a mistake in front of others, he had felt either regret or humiliation—sometimes both. And those emotions always carried meaning.

In all likelihood, Jaemin would lose the bet. But even in losing, he had nothing to lose. The phone was going to be returned anyway, and the recording file wasn’t particularly important. Just as Seungpyo wouldn’t trust Jaemin’s claim that the file was gone even if he saw him delete it, there was little point in proving its erasure.

After scoring another goal, Seungpyo clapped hands with his teammates, laughing brightly. That cheerful smile seemed like a completely different person from the infuriating Oh Seungpyo Jaemin knew. As Jaemin silently watched him, another kid nudged his shoulder.

“Why do you look so serious? Don’t stress out too much. You might still win, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m not worried.”

Lunchtime passed quickly. Only after the first bell signaling the start of class rang did the kids on the playground head toward their classrooms in a rush. Jaemin also stopped looking out the window and straightened his posture.

In any case, Jaemin had practiced very hard. Even during breaks, he would go out alone to practice dribbling or layup shots. The students at Il-yang High School, seeing this, all had similar thoughts: “It’s because he’s so determined in everything that he never loses his spot as the top student.”

📚

When he stepped outside, the cold morning air jolted him awake as if he’d been drenched in icy water.

Having woken up early, Seungpyo set out for school earlier than usual. Blowing out his breath into the frosty air like a game, he looked up at the sky. Even though it was nearing seven o’clock, the sky was still dark. Winter, with its late mornings and early nights, didn’t bother him much, though spring and summer with their longer days were better for staying active.

The air was cold, but Seungpyo wasn’t cold at all. In fact, it felt refreshing, putting him in a good mood. Even in winter, Seungpyo would often wander around the house wearing just a short-sleeve T-shirt. His aunts and older relatives who occasionally visited would shake their heads at him, saying it made them feel cold just looking at him. They would remark that he must run hot because he was young, and they weren’t entirely wrong. Neither he nor his older brother felt the cold of winter all that much.

But why had he woken up so early today? Seungpyo mulled over his schedule for the day. There were no particularly difficult assignments, no troublesome classes, and no tests scheduled. The only unusual event was the basketball match against Class 2.

The odds of him losing to Ryu Jaemin, kneeling to apologize, and getting flicked on the forehead were practically zero, even if miracles happened a hundred times over. Still, it seemed like the upcoming match was on his mind. The fact that basketball was the first thing he thought of upon waking up made that clear.

Tsk. He didn’t want to admit that he’d been dwelling on the match, but he couldn’t deny it either. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he crossed the school gate. The area around the gate, usually bustling in the mornings, was still quiet.

As he cut across the playground, a sudden, unexpected sound made him stop in his tracks. Although there were lights on the field, only a few illuminated the edges. Turning toward the source of the noise, he spotted a shadowy figure standing on the basketball court.

No way. Frowning, he walked closer and ended up letting out a sigh of disbelief.

The ball that had just left the figure’s fingertips drew a long arc in the air before perching on the rim. It teetered there for a moment, spinning indecisively, before falling outside the net instead of through it.

Thunk, thunk, thunk… The ball bounced on the ground a few times before rolling away from the court. Jaemin, chasing after it in a hurry, finally noticed Seungpyo and looked up.

Holding the ball in his hands, Jaemin stared silently at Seungpyo, who eventually broke the silence with a blunt remark.

“Don’t tell me you’re practicing early in the morning for today’s match? Someone might think you’re on the school’s basketball team getting ready for nationals.”

“Why would a basketball player need to practice? It’s because I’m bad that I have to practice more so I don’t drag everyone else down.”

“There’s no one good on Class 2’s team anyway. It doesn’t matter who you swap in—you’ll still lose.”

“That’s what you think.”

Without caring whether Seungpyo was there or not, Jaemin returned to his earlier spot. Fixing his gaze on the hoop, he concentrated and flicked the ball. This time, it went straight in with a satisfying thud. Jaemin’s eyes widened slightly with a hint of joy, but that was it.

Like a scene playing on repeat, the same action occurred again and again. Jaemin would take a shot, chase the ball after it bounced, and repeat, while Seungpyo stood to the side, watching with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

Jaemin’s shooting accuracy wasn’t great. Since Seungpyo had arrived, Jaemin had attempted six shots, with only one going in. While other players weren’t perfect either, Jaemin still had a long way to go to meet the lofty goal of beating Oh Seungpyo.

“You’re going to play near the basket anyway, right? What’s the point of practicing three-point shots?”

“My choice.”

I ask a long question, and all I get is this rude, curt answer? Seungpyo grumbled inwardly but called out again.

“Hey.”

Unable to bear watching any longer, Seungpyo stepped onto the court. Jaemin, who had just retrieved the ball after another miss, looked at him as he approached.

“Give it here.”

When Seungpyo held out his hand, Jaemin hesitated briefly before passing him the ball. Catching it, Seungpyo immediately launched a shot. The ball arced lightly and cleanly through the hoop without any hesitation, hitting the ground with a soft bounce. Shaking his left hand, Seungpyo asked, “Are you left-handed, by any chance?”

“No.”

“Then if you’re using your right hand, you’re gripping the ball too tightly. That’s why you keep missing.”

“……”

“Look. You’re not supposed to put force on both hands when you throw it. You need to support the ball with your left hand and push with your right hand for it to fly in the right direction. The left hand is just for support, didn’t you know that?”

Seungpyo, who had retrieved the ball, demonstrated once again. This time, the ball flew smoothly through the hoop. “Did you see that?” Seungpyo looked down smugly as he glanced at Jaemin.

Jaemin, though the interference might have annoyed him, took the ball without saying a word. As he got into position to throw, Seungpyo added more advice.

“Bend your knees more. Don’t think of it as throwing with just your arm, think of it as using your whole body. Focus on your right hand and keep your body light.”

Despite normally hating interference, Jaemin didn’t protest and instead bent his knees obediently. He stared at the hoop, then jumped lightly, releasing the ball.

The ball flew in a stable arc. Both of their eyes followed it. The sky was beginning to brighten, and the round ball sailed through the air, catching the rising sunlight and passing through the hoop silently.

The ball bounced a few times before rolling to the ground, but this time, Jaemin didn’t immediately go to pick it up. There was silence between them. After a brief pause, Seungpyo let out a quiet snicker and then slung his bag back over his shoulder.

“The others should be coming soon. You should head inside too.”

“Okay.”

Even after answering, Jaemin didn’t seem ready to leave. In fact, it looked like he had become more interested in practicing, now aiming for the hoop again thanks to his successful shot.

He really is stubborn. Seungpyo shook his head and headed toward the classroom, leaving Jaemin behind. If he was going to substitute for Hyungseo as a defender under the basket, he should be practicing layups, not wasting time on three-pointers he’d barely ever get to shoot in the early morning.

The only reason Seungpyo had given advice was because he knew it wouldn’t change the outcome. Even if the rookie’s shooting percentage improved a little, the game would still be lost.

…Well, to be honest, the fact that he was taking the practice so seriously was quite unexpected.

‘Is this really why he’s ranked first in the whole school?’

Seungpyo found himself thinking the same thing, a thought he had never agreed with when others praised Jaemin. Surprised by his own thought, he shook his head and made his way to the classroom.