Chapter 164

< The Last Festival (2) >

***

Princess, whom I hadn’t seen in three years, hadn’t changed much.

The patchy, dried-up grass and the still non-existent electronic scoreboard.

A small crowd, far more athletes than spectators, and busy officials running around.

The color of the stands had changed, perhaps repainted.

From yellow to green.

The biggest change was Jin-hyeok’s impression of the other athletes.

‘They all look like monsters.’

The tall high jumper, the shot putter who looked more solid than Shin Woo-sung, the javelin thrower with stronger shoulders than Lee Seung-hoon, the hurdler with long legs, and the long-distance runners who were skinny but had prominent muscle fibers.

Among them, the sprinters were the most eye-catching.

‘Middle schoolers with bodies like that? No joke.’

Jin-hyeok marveled as he observed his competitors, unaware that they might be looking at him the same way.

In elementary school competitions, only a few athletes stood out, but in middle school, everyone showed off their well-toned bodies. It seemed that the combination of talent and effort created a physique that was beyond ordinary.

“Byung-taek, did you and Seol-chan race against guys like that back in your grade?”

“Yeah. They’re all familiar faces. That guy over there, the one who does weight training, won the 100 meters last year, beating third graders.”

Jin-hyeok had also noticed that athlete during the relay preliminaries.

Though his friends had impressive builds, racing alongside athletes like Yeom Byung-taek and Jo Seol-chan seemed even more remarkable.

Well, at least on the surface.

After all, running isn’t just about physique.

And Jin-hyeok, who was second to none in height and build, had already made it to the finals of two sprint events with his best times.

‘Unfortunately, there’s no real competition here.’

Maybe he’d find worthy opponents at the national competition in Seoul. Jin-hyeok’s eyes glazed over as he forgot about the heat.

As a kid, he ran desperately to catch up with Jang Gun-i and to avoid getting his butt pecked by Johnson the rooster. At thirteen, the desperation of it being his last national competition gave him the strength to push through.

‘Lately, I just can’t seem to find that drive.’

There’s a force bubbling inside, but it won’t burst out—like a dud.

At least he’s faster than the others, so that’s something to be grateful for, but since his only competition is himself, it’s also frustrating.

But his sprint times weren’t the main concern now.

The goal was to safely get through the upcoming relay semifinal.

It was time to wrap up the last festival with his friends on a happy note.

[The men’s middle school 400-meter relay semifinal will begin shortly.]

He took off the long pants and long-sleeved shirt he’d worn to warm up.

This was the most skin Jin-hyeok had ever shown. He usually wore oversized clothes bought from the U.S. through Yoo Se-ra’s friend, but running in loose clothes wasn’t an option.

Ooooh-.

Ignoring the stares, Jin-hyeok’s eyes searched for Min Yong-rak.

“Please keep track of the time.”

Min Yong-rak clenched his fist in response.

***

This was the first time he’d ever been this nervous.

For three years, he’d led the team to regional competitions, managing just four athletes, so it wasn’t a burden. Last year, he’d even taken athletes from other schools, making the team larger, but the best result was reaching the semifinals, so it was more of a fun event for both the athletes and the teacher.

But this time was different.

Not only had they made it to the finals in two sprint events with record times, but they were also in the relay semifinals.

Lee Byung-se couldn’t sit still, pacing around the track with a stopwatch in hand.

He ignored the scorching sun, his eyes fixed on the athletes.

– “We’ll definitely make it through the semifinals. The order you’ve set is important, but we should also consider changing it based on the times.”

This was Jin-hyeok’s suggestion after the relay preliminaries.

Taeyang Middle School had placed 5th in the preliminaries. Since the semifinals were separate, they wouldn’t advance to the finals based on prelim times, but it was still a meaningful reference.

‘Numbers don’t lie.’

The regional competition had just ended after the break.

When Lee Byung-se met the athletes, now tanned, he was at a loss for words.

It wasn’t their skin—it was their bronze-like muscles and skin.

‘I had high hopes.’

The individual athletes had improved, but without Son Jin-hyeok’s sprint as the anchor, making the semifinals would’ve been impossible. In relays, the anchor’s role is that crucial.

But if the lead runners fall too far behind, even the best anchor can only close so much. In Jin-hyeok’s case, it was about 20 meters. It would be great if he could close more, but the other teams’ athletes, also talented, wouldn’t just stand still.

It’s an impressive ability, but everyone has limits. No team can rely solely on one anchor. Everyone has to run well to succeed in a relay.

Lee Byung-se rolled his eyes as he looked over the data Jin-hyeok had handed him.

「Jo Seol-chan, Yeom Byung-taek, Park Sang-ki, Son Jin-hyeok」

This was the current order.

[On your marks-.]

As the official’s signal came through the speakers, Lee Byung-se roughly folded the record sheet and stuffed it into his pocket, still deep in thought.

[Bang-!]

They started behind, in 7th and 8th place. The reaction time at the start was the slowest, so they were last off the blocks. They could’ve started faster, but to avoid a foul, they went for a safe timing.

Some of the starters had times in the late 11 seconds, but Jo Seol-chan’s time, even after training camp, was in the early 12 seconds. He was decent on the curve, but his speed wasn’t fully coming through.

Starting behind was almost expected.

The second runner caught up a bit.

Now, Yeom Byung-taek, a specialist on the straight, had moved up to 5th.

The third runner was a surprise.

Maybe dropping the baton during practice had been a lesson, but Park Sang-ki didn’t repeat the mistake. Of course, his speed was decent, so he maintained the position.

“Jeong-hwaaaa-!”

That weird guy wouldn’t go faster unless he shouted his girlfriend’s name.

It’s a good thing they don’t give warnings or ejections for yelling.

In the past, Lee Byung-se would’ve smacked him, but he held back. These were the first athletes he’d seen so motivated and proactive, and he knew interfering could ruin the mood.

He decided to stick to checking their plans and helping with conditioning, staying strictly in a supporting role.

Whoaaa-!

The moment everyone was waiting for had arrived.

When the baton reached the anchor, the festival truly began.

All eyes were already on Taeyang Middle School’s number 94, who had set unofficial middle school records in the 100 and 200 meters.

The beautiful arc drawn by Son Jin-hyeok’s baton as he swung it up, down, forward, and back.

Maybe Lee Byung-se had endured all the criticism and kept the track team going just to see this.

The cheap uniform, blue with a white sun, didn’t look awkward at all.

Ah, how lucky to witness this in person.

[Ding-!]

The electronic signal for the finish sounded again.

Almost simultaneously, Taeyang Middle School’s anchor crossed the finish line.

3rd place.

They’d made it to the finals.

“Woo-hoo!”

Clenching his teeth, Lee Byung-se tightened his fists.

*

Jin-hyeok, with his hands on his hips, walked toward the bench with a dissatisfied expression, tilting his head.

‘They’re all so good, being professional athletes. This won’t do.’

The lead runners weren’t standing still, and the fastest athletes in the region were giving it their all. No matter how fast he was, there was a limit to how much he could close the gap.

Each athlete has their own style, but Jin-hyeok felt that having someone push from behind helped maintain pace better than chasing someone’s back.

‘I need to change it.’

Sometimes, instinctive decisions based on experience are better than logical analysis. For Jin-hyeok, who usually relied on logic, this was a fresh approach, like a breeze over a stream.

***

The secure phone was off-limits to outsiders. It could stir up negative feelings, so even friends weren’t allowed to know about it.

Jin-hyeok found a quiet spot to call home.

– Jeong-won, don’t chew on the phone-.

Bleh-. Bleh-!

With more family members, there were more people to talk to.

He tried to talk to Jeong-won last, but the baby, more skilled with his tongue than his hands, seemed more interested in chewing the receiver than talking to his brother.

“Mom, just leave him. I’ll see him when I get back the day after tomorrow.”

– Really? It must be hot there too. Make sure to eat well. By the way, it hasn’t rained at all. The whole neighborhood’s sweet potato fields are drying up from watering.

Mom was starting to sound like Dad, always bringing up unrelated topics.

What should I say to empathize in situations like this?

“Uh, well…”

Having experienced it before and with more responsibilities and lives to care for, the family wasn’t too hung up on not being able to attend the competition. Jin-hyeok could always call using the secure phone, so not seeing them for a few days wasn’t a big deal.

– Mom! Mom! I have something to say to oppa-!

Jin-hyeok, wait. Yoo-jin has something to say.

As Yoo-jin’s bouncing figure came to mind, Jin-hyeok’s lips curled up.

“Yoo-jin, what is it?”

– Oppa, I love you-.

“……”

– Huh? Why aren’t you saying anything?

She was a cute and mischievous little sister, but she’d never said something like that before.

She must’ve learned it from Dad or kindergarten.

She must’ve missed him since he hadn’t been around for a few days.

– Oppa? Oppaaa-?

“Uh, yeah. I, I- love you too-. Hello? Hello?”

Jin-hyeok slowly moved the phone away from his ear.

Click-.

Weirdly embarrassed.

It was hot even at night in late August, but Jin-hyeok hugged his arms and shuffled back to the dorm.

*

They held an emergency meeting in the dorm.

This was the first time both Lee Byung-se and the friends had been so serious.

Lee Byung-se usually just booked rooms, bought meals, and managed the schedule.

The athletes also passively followed the teacher’s lead.

Min Yong-rak, who had come along as Jin-hyeok’s manager, distributed the analysis sheets.

“As you can see, we’re fifth among the eight teams that made it to the finals. After closely examining the other teams, there were no teams just participating for fun. They all have long traditions and participate every year. Just making it to the finals is a big deal for Taeyang Middle School.”

Despite the tone and setting that might feel awkward for middle schoolers, the friends’ expressions were dead serious. Why wouldn’t they be? They wanted to finish the festival on a high note more than anything.

They had thought the summer camp itself was the festival.

Until the competition, that is.

Though Yeom Byung-taek narrowly missed the finals in the 100 and 200 meters, his and Jin-hyeok’s semifinal appearances in two events had excited the team.

The thrill of excitement might be short-lived, but its impact lasts. The kids craved fuel to keep that feeling going longer.

The positive experience from three years ago, back in elementary school—then called the junior division—still gave Yeom Byung-taek and Jo Seol-chan a thrilling sense of accomplishment. Seeing Park Ji-beom, who occasionally kept in touch with Yeom Byung-taek, reminisce about those times, it was clear this wasn’t just their feeling.

“During training, Jin-hyeok suggested we switch the order during relay practice. That data is on the back page. It’s from the last week of training, so it should be similar to our current times. It’s close to the top three teams in the finals.”

Swish-.

As if on cue, everyone flipped to the next page of the analysis sheet.

Lee Byung-se, squinting, stretched his neck like a giraffe toward the sheet.

“Huh? What’s this order?”

He was the only one surprised.

***

The constant buzz of the crowd and the intermittent noise from the speakers made his head throb.

Min Yong-rak hadn’t slept well last night.

There was no one snoring in the dorm, but Lee Byung-se snored so loudly it was almost unbearable.

‘Ugh, it’s so hot. What’s the point of a tent in this weather?’

But without it, they’d have been worse off.

Blinking tired eyes, he unfolded the record sheet.

After days under the scorching sun, it crinkled like a cracker, ready to fall apart.

‘I wish it would just rain.’

How could it not rain for over a month?

It’s not just farmers who curse the sky.

Whoaaa-!

The women’s middle school 200-meter final was underway.

Though he was there on business and the weather was sweltering, watching the competition was still a joy for Min Yong-rak.

Expectations followed.

If they ran that impressively at regional competitions, they’d be even more amazing at nationals. Where do such incredible athletes go when they grow up? Do they just disappear, still flying but unnoticed by the media? All sorts of thoughts crossed his mind.

[Next up, the men’s middle school 200-meter final will begin shortly. Participating athletes, please proceed to the starting area. Non-participants, please step back one meter from the track.]

This was a race everyone was interested in, not just Min Yong-rak.

No event in track and field draws as much attention as the men’s sprint finals, and Taeyang Middle School’s number 94 had been a focal point since the preliminaries.

Someone in the stands, chatting behind him, caught Min Yong-rak’s ear.

“Is he on something?”

“What?”

“Him, number 94. An Asian at that height can’t be that fast, right?”

“That makes sense.”

“Ah, think about it. At that height, sprinting like that—only Black athletes can do that.”

Annoying, especially in this heat. Min Yong-rak sighed softly and turned his gaze to Jin-hyeok at the starting line.

Seeing him every day, he hadn’t noticed, but Jin-hyeok was tall compared to the others.

Not basketball-player tall, but tall enough to pass as one.

Not that the other athletes were short.

The shortest athlete he’d checked was 174 cm.

Only a 10 cm difference from Jin-hyeok.

“First of all, Koreans have this thing called the ‘crane stance’ running style, right? But this guy has a wide stride and fast feet. Is that even possible for a human?”

“True. Korea can’t do that.”

Damn.

Min Yong-rak’s lips twitched in irritation.

A rough-looking man pointed behind Min Yong-rak.

“Hey-, what the hell are you bastards babbling about? Who the hell do you think you are, talking nonsense like that?!”

It was Lee Byung-se.