INV 36

“…Are you, are you saying you want to forfeit right now? It’s the finals, and you’re saying we should just give up like this without doing anything?”

“Control your breathing, I didn’t mean it like that…”

As he wiped his sweat-soaked neck with the towel handed to him by a club sunbae, his gaze, which remained fixed straight on his partner, was strangely wild, yet incredibly tender. It was enough for anyone nearby to consider him a kind and sweet hoebae comforting a sunbae whose mental state had collapsed. However, the home master, who had captured men through a lens countless times, caught on at once that it was the gaze of a predator.

And also the fact that the video being filmed right now would become a legend—if only she could get the subject’s permission.

In the next moment, the subject glanced at the camera and turned at an angle so that no more of the conversation was captured, but the home master didn’t think for a second that Kwon Yihyeon had avoided the lens on purpose.

It was because the angle was caught such that his face was captured perfectly, yet his lip movements were exquisitely missed.

“Do you want to give up? Then do so. I don’t, but I’ll still do as you wish, sunbae. We’re a team right now. If we give up, we do it together, and if we win, we do it together.”

“Kwon Yihyeon, don’t talk nonsense. I’m your sunbae and the club president. I started tennis and entered university earlier than you.”

“Haha…”

As Kwon Yihyeon burst into laughter, his black hair fluttered slightly. In the center of his eyes, which had rounded despite his sharp impression, his light-brown pupils sparkled mysteriously under the sunlight.

“I knew you would say that, sunbae. So catch your breath… and from now on, listen to me for just one game.”

“…”

“Don’t do anything. Just for one game.”

The sunbae, who had been pushed to her mental limit, failed to understand Kwon Yihyeon’s instructions at first, then widened her eyes in surprise at the beginner’s boldness a moment later.

“You want to intentionally aim for the tie-breaker rule? Even if it means throwing away an entire game? If we can’t take the game after that, it’s over, sudden-death match or not?”

“If we throw one game away, you’ll have time to rest, sunbae.”

“…”

“Then we’ll definitely win the second one.”

It was a belief bordering on recklessness, but because Kwon Yihyeon said it so nonchalantly with a kind smile, she wanted to pull it off no matter what.

Still, anxiety remained.

“Even if we drag it to a tie-breaker, we have to settle it in a sudden-death match. I don’t have the confidence to endure then…”

Around that time, Kwon Yihyeon, who had been wearing a kind and empathetic expression, suddenly smiled as the corners of his lips stretched.

“Ah, you don’t know. How persistent and tenacious I am.”

“…”

For some reason, it was a smile that felt strangely suspicious.

“You were the one who told me that ‘Psychological warfare is everything in tennis,’ sunbae…”

“…”

“If we just hold out for one game starting now, I’ll finish it.”

The sunbae nodded her head involuntarily.

She had given up on becoming a professional player because she always collapsed during the latter half due to mental issues, and she was satisfied being a club president while pretending it was just a hobby—but the sunbae, who had lived with a tennis racket since the first grade of elementary school, actually loved winning. She loved it like crazy.

And right now, trusting Kwon Yihyeon was the best move toward victory.

The home master didn’t know much about tennis rules, but she knew the important things. Swallowing hard at the surging tension, she stomped on the foot of her friend who was trying to talk to her, preventing any background noise from mixing into the precious video.

Soon after, when the game resumed, the opposing team took on optimistic expressions, seemingly thinking they had given up on the game when the female side didn’t move at all despite it being doubles.

However, as soon as that one game passed, as if he had been waiting, Kwon Yihyeon watched the sunbae’s serve. Four points per game—while those four points passed, the sunbae stubbornly kept Kwon Yihyeon’s word. Even as the crowd jeered and disappointing gazes were fixed on her, she did nothing.

And the moment she served.

“…!”

The sunbae’s serve, whose mind and stamina had returned to full power even briefly while catching her breath, exquisitely struck the edge of the court. The opponents were stunned, failing to even react, and the sunbae, who had swung her racket with all her might to win a point in an instant, turned to look at Kwon Yihyeon, swept away by unbelievable emotion.

Kwon Yihyeon was smiling faintly as if he had expected all of it.

“Three more points, you know that, right?”

“Leave it to me.”

“We’re doing this together.”

They tapped their rackets against each other.

“Because we’re a team.”

The sunbae raced across the court from then on. She didn’t even feel her stamina dropping. Instead of her slowed feet, her instincts tracked where the racket needed to be first. She was someone who had aimed for the pros. Someone who had done nothing but swing a racket since the first grade of elementary school. She took three points in a row. They took the game. Since they had gone from a 5 to 5 deuce to a 6 to 6 deuce, it was time for the tie-breaker rule to be applied. From now on, it was a sudden-death match for 7 points. Not a single mistake would be tolerated. The sunbae felt her hands shaking involuntarily. However, as soon as she noticed Kwon Yihyeon’s gaze, she said firmly:

“It’s because I’m excited. Because we’re going to win soon. Us.”

Kwon Yihyeon smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling like a fox’s. The home master, who ended up seeing that smile in high definition, let out a scream that briefly drew the crowd’s attention, but the referee started the game without minding the minor disturbance.

Because they had lost the rock-paper-scissors, the opponents had the serve, and a clever serve flew in. Instead of a strong smash, an exquisite attempt to catch them off guard with precise positioning by dropping it lightly succeeded perfectly. With sharp angle control, the ball dropped right in front of the net was bouncing low. However, even though Kwon Yihyeon realized it was going to be a difficult ball, he didn’t charge into the sunbae’s field. He trusted and waited. Because the one who taught him that sports played together were like this was the president of the tennis club and his sunbae.

In the next moment, the sunbae threw her noticeably slowed body to the floor, extending the arm holding the racket with all her strength. She desperately hoped to reach it, as if catching this one ball would leave her with no more wishes in life. It was an extremely low bounce and a ball that was hard to save, but she scooped it up. She felt the thrilling sensation in her fingertips and desperately turned her head; soon, the sound of tearing through the wind ripped through her ears.

Pang!

“Love, fifteen!”

The referee’s call sign was so thrilling and her heart was so full at the same time that she felt like she might die right then. That moment when the rally seemed like it would get longer and longer with a breathtaking exchange…

After that, Kwon Yihyeon finished the game.

‘Literally, he finished it.’

The opposing team, who had mistakenly thought they had given up while the sunbae rested for one game, were properly entangled in the sudden counterattack that followed from the next game, and they burst into anger throughout the sudden-death match.

And Kwon Yihyeon cooked the mental-shattered opposing team perfectly. He actively permitted them to get angry and sometimes pushed them with an expression that was hard to tell if it was a sneer or a smile. Inducing ridiculous mistakes—such as dropping the ball on an ambiguous line so that the two opposing team members swung their rackets at the same time and hit each other—and escalating internal division was truly no ordinary skill; yet, despite that, he maintained a perfectly gentlemanly attitude on the surface. Exquisitely enough that even the home master zooming in on him with a lens wouldn’t notice, yet enough for his partner, the sunbae, to feel it was chilling.

‘So this is how you play tennis… I think I finally understand. That saying about psychological warfare being everything in tennis!’

‘This is no joke. I really think we’re going to win!’

The club members, who played tennis as a hobby, didn’t know the details but could certainly see that Kwon Yihyeon was running wild, and they cheered until their throats were hoarse. Kwon Yihyeon didn’t know well because he was a freshman, but there were two tennis clubs at Korea University, and the one he had chosen was the one founded later and not belonging to the central student organizations. Kwon Yihyeon had simply sought out a club that said it welcomed beginners, but from the perspective of those who repeatedly lost to the central organization’s club every year, Kwon Yihyeon was a godsend. When they finally won the final by taking consecutive points while the opposing team stayed at love (0 points), the club members gave Kwon Yihyeon a wild shoulder toss. The referee, watching warmly and thinking “this is the life,” let them run wild until he had to break them apart. They even brought champagne and popped it. He didn’t know why they had bought this when they might not have won, but Kwon Yihyeon was truly thrilled in that moment.

The home master was also truly thrilled in that moment. The photo of Kwon Yihyeon smiling brightly and freshly while frowning as he was hit by champagne was worth that much. Since she had hunted… no, obtained amazing videos and photos, now it was time to ask for permission from the subjects… no, the parties involved.

The next day, the home master came to the club room with a mountain of desserts and cafe drinks, and even protein drinks in case of a gym rat, and pleaded as if she were about to go down on her knees.

“Please, let me make this video an heirloom to be passed down through generations!”

…The beginning sounded like nonsense, but the home master had a vision of her own!