Once the exams ended, everything returned to the same routine as before. It had been said that students who failed two or more subjects would have to clean the bathrooms, but fortunately, no one in Class A ended up having to clean the entire five-floor dormitory. Sihyeon felt relieved at that.
And the next day—
At the central entrance of Strongest High, the midterm rankings for the first semester were posted in enormous print.
Seriously—so large they practically covered the entire wall.
On his way to school, Sihyeon saw the massive sheet and ended up swallowing wrong, breaking into a coughing fit.
This kind of aesthetic felt way too outdated. Why was it that, despite being set in 2019 and using modern concepts like Pairing and Awakening testing devices, they insisted on this old-fashioned style just for posting grades?
Cough, cough.
Still coughing roughly, Sihyeon watched as Hamin, who had passed by him, checked the rankings with his hands in his pockets. Rolling his eyes toward the sheet on the wall, Sihyeon spotted two number ones.
1) A Kang Sihyeon (tie)
1) A Lee Hamin (tie)
“……”
That’s strange. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him study.
Hamin always had his head down sleeping during class, and even during study sessions, he barely put in effort. Since Sihyeon himself had gotten perfect scores in every subject, Hamin being tied for first meant the same for him.
Perfect scores?
Sihyeon’s brows furrowed. As he mulled over the numbers, a familiar headache crept in, and he pressed his temple before lowering his gaze. In third place was Dawoon. Fourth was Seowoo, fifth was Haeun.
And surprisingly, Jihye was right next to Haru in rank.
“Hmm… I think I improved compared to middle school!”
Jihye’s upbeat voice rang out.
Sihyeon decided to let go of the assumptions he’d made based on appearances.
***
It turned out taking photos on the day of the exam had been a stroke of genius, because by the following week, spring rain began pouring down.
For rain in May, it felt unusually intense—relentless, almost violent.
It poured as if the sky had split open.
Patter, patter.
As raindrops fell, cherry blossom petals tumbled down along with them. Watching the scene through the window, Sihyeon rested his chin on his hand and blinked slowly. Maybe because of the rain, everything felt calmer and more peaceful than usual.
“Unlike ordinary Irregulars, those capable of opening ‘Rifts’ are referred to as the ‘Lord’ of that Irregular entity. Through a single Rift, only one type of Irregular can emerge…”
Listening to the quiet, theory-heavy lecture, his eyes kept drifting shut. Maybe it was because Haeun had clung to him late into the night, pestering him to play board games.
I should’ve just knocked him out.
Unable to withstand the threat that Haeun would sing every time he tried to sleep if he ignored him, Sihyeon had eventually given in and played. Of all things, Kang Haeun’s singing was the hardest to endure. He’d shout like the world was ending, yet not hit a single note. Even if someone paid him, it’d be hard to sing that badly on purpose.
Maybe I should just sleep now and borrow Yoo Seowoo’s notes later. His notes are always neat.
Debating as drowsiness overtook him, Sihyeon eventually slumped over his desk. Considering Seowoo still owed him from the Monthly Evaluation, he’d probably lend his notebook without hesitation. Better to sleep now and regain focus during training later.
Only after sleeping for an hour did Sihyeon wake up. Changing from his uniform into training clothes, he frowned. Normally, training time was for individual practice, but once a week, there was always group training.
And Sihyeon hated group training the most.
“Cadets, are you ready!”
Because their instructor was completely consumed by a military concept.
Every time he addressed them in that booming voice—Cadets!—it was embarrassing enough, but he also made everyone clap whenever Sihyeon achieved top scores. Watching the instructor’s usual over-the-top enthusiasm, Sihyeon sighed and followed along with the warm-up.
He really wanted to pretend he was sick and sit this out, but their instructor would just make them chant, “A strong mind governs the body,” even if they claimed to be ill. It was complete nonsense.
“Today, we will be conducting basic physical training.”
“Ah…”
A short groan escaped. Of all the things he disliked, this was the worst. In the wide gym, the instructor set up 16 cones and lined Class A up in a row. Seeing the cones placed facing each other at opposite ends, Sihyeon could already guess what was coming.
“Today, we’ll be doing shuttle runs. Everyone, move in front of your cones.”
As expected.
At the booming command, Jihye cautiously raised her hand.
“Um… how many laps are we doing?”
Come to think of it, he’d said shuttle runs—but hadn’t said how many. Last time it had been 50. The length of the gym alone was easily over 50 meters. That day, Sihyeon had felt like he might actually die running 50 laps.
Surely it wouldn’t be more than that…
As he swallowed nervously, the instructor placed his hands on his hips.
“We will not set a number. I will not define your limits!”
“Ah… then do we stop when we’re tired?”
“You run until your limit. Is your question answered?”
“…Yes.”
“Then prepare yourselves.”
Fortunately, it wasn’t 50 laps. Since they just had to run until their limit, it seemed like they could stop when it got too hard. Relieved, Sihyeon lowered his stance. The instructor, showing surprising consideration, even played an upbeat song.
Beep—the whistle blew.
“Start!”
At the command, all eight students of Class A pushed off the ground at once.
It didn’t take long for Sihyeon to think that running 50 laps might’ve been better.
“Huff, huff…! Sir, I—I give up!”
At this rate, I’m going to die.
The first to give up among the eight was Haeun. As he slumped and groaned, the instructor shot him a glance and raised his voice.
“You will not stop until the music ends! Keep running!”
“…What?”
Haeun’s eyes widened in disbelief, but the instructor repeated himself like a machine. In the end, Haeun started running again, looking like he was on the verge of collapse. Watching him, it was absurd.
Only then did Sihyeon realize what the instructor meant by “limit.”
It meant running until you felt like you were actually going to die—stopping right before you passed out.
“Sir, I—”
“Keep running!”
“Sir…”
“You will not stop!”
“Si—”
“The music has not ended!”
After Haeun, anyone who tried to stop faced the exact same response. Sihyeon glanced around. Everyone was gasping for breath, their original pace long gone—they looked more like staggering zombies than runners now. Even Hamin and Haru, who had seemed to have iron-like stamina, were bent over, repeatedly straightening and collapsing as they struggled to breathe.
As everyone ran like they were on the brink of death, the instructor shouted encouragement.
“Keep running! You can still go further!”
Who are you to decide that?
The complaint rose to the tip of Sihyeon’s tongue, but he couldn’t even spare the breath to speak. A sharp pain spread beneath his ribs as he clutched his side and kept running. If he ever got a Wish Ticket, he seriously wanted to wish for a different instructor.
The hellish running only ended when the song stopped.
“Huff…! Huff…!”
The moment the instructor turned off the music, all eight students collapsed onto the floor. But even that wasn’t allowed.
“Get up and walk slowly!”
At the command, Sihyeon forced himself up and started moving. His legs felt as heavy as if weights were tied to them. Glancing sideways, he saw Seowoo brushing back sweat-soaked hair, breathing hard—clearly exhausted as well.
After slowly walking four laps around the gym, training finally ended.
It had been pure hell.
***
“…Whoever’s going to shower… first…”
Haeun, usually full of energy, lay sprawled on the bed, speaking weakly like a corpse. No one answered. Aside from him, only three others were left in the room—and they all looked just as dead.
Lying there without even the strength to lift a finger, Sihyeon bit his lip as he thought about the instructor.
That wasn’t passion.
It was madness.
“…Isn’t he actually insane?”
At Hamin’s muttered words, Sihyeon could only nod. After a long silence, Haru was the first to get up and shower.
After Haru, Sihyeon went next. Drying his hair, he collapsed onto the bed. Since the balcony was close, he could still hear the rain.
The steady downpour all day made him think of monsoon season. Soon, the remaining two finished showering as well. Click—Haeun turned off the lights.
Considering Haeun usually talked until midnight, lights out at 10 was unusually early.
It seemed he wasn’t the only one completely drained. Taking a steady breath, Sihyeon pulled up his blanket. His body felt heavy, sleep quickly overtaking him.
That’s when he heard it—
“Papapyat!”
“……?”
“Pyat, papapyat!”
At first, he thought it was his imagination, but the sound came again. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who heard it—Haeun, who had been about to sleep, sat up.
“Didn’t you just hear something weird?”
“It sounded like it came from the terrace.”
Haeun asked, and Hamin answered. They all listened carefully, but as if mocking them, the sound didn’t come again. Even after waiting, nothing.
“It’s gone now.”
“Should we just sleep?”
“Papapyat!”
“…….”
Are you seriously messing with us?
Just as they were about to sleep, the sound came again. Everyone in Room 207 sat up. After a brief exchange, Haru volunteered to go check.
Slide.
As the door opened, a cool breeze rushed in.
Cool—and damp.
Cool enough to wash away all the sweat from training. Damp… damp…?
“Ah…”
A beat too late, Sihyeon remembered—it was raining. Quickly grabbing an umbrella, he followed after Haru, who hadn’t returned as expected.
Stepping outside, he saw Haru crouched in a corner of the terrace, out of view from inside.
He was already soaked through.
“Haru hyung?”
What are you doing?
Even as rain poured down, Haru remained crouched there. Puzzled, Sihyeon tilted the umbrella toward him and called out. Still crouched, Haru turned his body and looked at him.
“Pyat!”
At the same sound as before, Sihyeon turned toward where it came from.
“…What is that?”
His voice, as he looked toward Haru’s arms, was filled with both surprise and confusion.
