[Lecture Hall]
As we waited for class to start, Jack and I sat side by side. I thought he seemed lively, probably because of the rugby talk. But he seemed deep in thought, almost like he was always immersed in his own world. Just how much time had passed?
He leaned in close, lowering his voice as if he were sharing a huge secret.
"But you did decorate, didn't you?"
"Decorate what?"
"The magazine and the store, remember?"
"Oh, right."
Jack glanced around as if checking the coast was clear, then leaned in even closer.
"So, that's the Queensman?"
I nodded.
"Did Ultimate… come out of that?"
"Yes."
"So, do they really line up every day… with something you made?"
Did he even listen to what I just said? He looked stunned, jaw dropping.
Maybe he didn't believe he could still be surprised by anything I did after my time in Korea. But apparently, he could.
"What's up with that?"
"Yeah."
"Then this Gucci thing you're doing now, is it going to be a big hit too?"
"…?"
"Everything you touch turns into a hit."
Compliments are difficult to handle right in front of me. Jack probably meant well, but it was still embarrassing!
Fortunately, the teacher came in. It was our economics class. Sometimes our teacher would come in five minutes early to make announcements. Today was one of those days.
"We'll be holding elections for the first-year student council president. If anyone is interested…"
Before he could finish, a hand shot up.
"I'm running!"
The person raising his hand was none other than Julian Barnett, whom I liked a lot.
"Supporters should come to my office with their pledges, rather than announcing it here. Understood?"
A notice would probably go up on the bulletin board about the candidacy soon.
Anyway, my mind was focused only on rugby.
"When's the PE class again?"
I was just waiting for the time to head out to the field.
***
Meanwhile.
Coach Devon was going through monotonous days. After leaving his flashy life in America, he returned to Britain, reluctantly settling into a hectic teaching life in Hanolani.
"A nobleman, a naval officer, joining an NFL team?"
Even with a second-round pick, the treatment wouldn't be so bad.
Sigh
Not everyone succeeds after joining. But seeing his draft pick thrive still made him feel a bit wistful.
It wasn't so much about missing the taste of the field but rather the wild parties, drinking, and singing that followed games!
"Oh, America, how I miss you…"
The classroom was empty.
Devon yawned so wide his jaw almost popped. He was on the verge of nodding off when he remembered he had a class coming up. There wasn't anything to really kill time with, so he lazily reached across his desk, grabbing a magazine that had been left there.
If there was one thing that kept him going in this dull teaching life, it was yoga, without a doubt. Who'd put this collection together? It was all about men switching outfits, condensed into these pages. But it wasn't cheap—far from it. It had the kind of sophistication that even aristocrats would carry without hesitation. The pages were worn from reading it so many times.
"Nothing else to do."
Devon popped a lollipop into his mouth, leaned back, and put his feet up on the desk, ready to sink into his reading.
"Sir."
A voice sounded from behind.
Turning his chair, Devon found himself looking up at a towering figure close to two meters tall. He recognized the face.
"I'm Ralph, a second-year student."
The guy bowed his head deeply.
"I came to make a proposal."
"A proposal?"
"Yes. Aren't you the advisor for the rugby team?"
"Am I?"
"Yes, that's right."
Well. Thinking back, he vaguely remembered something about that. There'd been a day when a conflict arose between the first and second years. Someone had asked him to draft a report, or something like that. At the time, he'd brushed it off. Now here he was, faced with a student seeking his help.
"So?"
"We came to ask you to arrange a friendly game with the first-years."
"Why? Planning on beating them up legally?"
"Huh?"
Ralph tilted his head, confused.
"Why pretend to be so innocent? Shoulder slams, jaw locks, brutal tackles—you know the drill."
"What… what are you talking about…?"
Instead of answering, Devon just stared at Ralph. Eventually, Ralph clarified, adding hesitantly,
"Well… there are no new recruits in the rugby team this year. We were hoping for an opportunity to connect with them through a friendly game."
"Why aren't there any recruits?"
"It's just… a small misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?"
"… …"
"Got nothing better to do, huh? Get going."
Even though Ralph stood nearly two meters tall, he had no choice but to meekly lower his head before Devon, whose forearm alone was the size of a bowling ball.
"Well? What're you waiting for? Move along."
***
Finally, the long-awaited PE class returned. The first month had been full of regular classes, but after that, it had devolved into a chaotic form of self-led exercise. I'd thought that, being a prestigious school, we'd have activities like horseback riding or canoeing as the main events. But these fancy activities were usually reserved for the girls, while the boys were typically all about rugby.
Of course, I had mostly focused on individual exercises until now—running here and there, doing some bodyweight workouts. But given the situation, I thought,
"I'll join the rugby game."
Everyone seemed a bit bewildered by my sudden interest in playing rugby.
"New recruits are always welcome, right?"
Luckily, Jack stepped in and helped smooth things over.
"So, about the game…"
Naturally, I didn't actually know how to play rugby. I wasn't familiar with the positions, let alone the strategies. Sensing my lack of experience, Jack came over quietly and said,
"Don't worry about it."
"…Huh?"
"When I pass to you, just run with all you've got. See that? All the way to the end."
I nodded.
"Picture yourself diving into enemy lines, with the courage of a soldier!"
The military metaphor, again?
"Remember," Jack added, "grab the 'bomb' and hurl yourself into the enemy territory!"
Not everyone agreed with Jack's dramatic take on rugby, though.
The game was seven-on-seven. Although we weren't an official rugby club, an impressive fourteen players from the senior class were ready to hit the field. Most were from noble backgrounds, so they had a surprisingly strong understanding of the game.
Piiik!
The whistle blew, and the game began.
"Hold the side!"
"Break through!"
"Stick with it! Keep it up!"
I didn't even know how the first five minutes passed. I just ran, keeping up as best I could, chasing the ball as the players surged around it. Defense, offense—it was all a blur. Watching from the sidelines was so different. Now that I was actually on the field, my field of vision felt narrower.
Luckily, as time went by, I started to get the rhythm, seeing the path the ball would take and where the defenders would cluster. Eventually, even without Jack's calls, I could anticipate where to be.
Bam!
Once, I held my ground in a spot where the ball was likely to come. Yeah, I thought, this is it—I'd slow down the opponent's advance, forcing them to make a risky pass. And in that opening…
Flash!
Jack caught the ball. The opposing players closed in, forming a wall around him. But Jack, with impressive skill, made a quick, faint sidestep, painting an opening.
Shook!
He passed the ball toward me with a deft flick.
"Jump!"
Jack's voice boomed so loudly that everyone instinctively covered their ears.
Regardless…
Pow!
I bolted forward. Running was my strength, especially in a straight line. But instead of charging straight ahead, I used a hook and feint, weaving between opponents like I was playing soccer. Of course, I could still be tackled, so I had to stay on guard.
Every moment, I adjusted my pace to fend off defenders.
Bam bam bam!
Once my speed fully kicked in…
"Ahhh!"
It was almost impossible for the opponent to catch up to me. After about ten minutes, we were scoring one-sidedly. Maybe it was because I was relentlessly pressing forward.
"Is this really your first time?"
"How many points have you scored on your own?"
"Should we even ask?"
Voices of frustration rang out from all around.
"It's unfair for you two to play on the same team."
"Yeah. It's like cheating… or not even a real game."
Just as the opponents were trying to get Jack away from me, a gentle voice came from a distance.
"Who's causing all this fuss on this sacred field?"
It was, of course, Devon. He was the type to toss a ball at us and then lay back on the bench, watching the clouds. Naturally, when Devon approached, everyone felt a bit uneasy.
"What's going on, rookies?"
One of the most disgruntled players spoke up in response to Devon's question.
"Well, it's just… They put him on Jack's team because it's his first time, but he's way too good for a beginner!"
"Are you the discipline committee?"
"No, sir."
"What's your name?"
"Gary."
"And you?" Devon pointed to another grumbling player.
"I'm James."
"You two, step out. I'll join in instead. Shall we?"
What? Was Devon, who even played on the national rugby team, about to join the game himself? The entire field started buzzing. This was probably the first time Devon had actually set foot on the field. For a first-year playing against a second-year team, this was an incredibly valuable experience.
"I'm nervous," I muttered, a bit intimidated.
So now, with Devon on our team for balance, we'd play with seven players against their six.
"I'll only play defense, so don't worry," Devon assured us.
I'd known he was big, but facing him on the field was a whole other story. Just seeing him in front of me made my anxiety skyrocket.
Piiik!
The whistle blew, and the game resumed. Ten minutes earlier, it had been a one-sided match. The only change was Devon joining us. I didn't know much about rugby, but with an extra player, especially with someone like Devon…
My thoughts froze.
Whoosh!
Every time Devon approached, the ball was passed to the other side.
Whoosh!
When Devon moved, the ball was sent to the opposite side again. We managed to hold our own like this for the first few minutes, but…
What was this?
Hook!
Just when they seemed to have adapted to the passes,
Boom!
Devon's incredible athleticism kicked in. In an instant, he intercepted the ball out of thin air.
"What… was that?"
True to his word, Devon didn't participate in offense.
Shoo!
He'd pass the ball back to our team and return to defense. Essentially, the opponents had to play offense with only five players without Devon. It was like wolves guarding a flock. Naturally, Jack managed to strip the ball from an opponent with a single tackle. Jack then checked Devon's position. Seeing that Devon was far enough away, he decided it was safe to pass to me.
Bwoom!
Jack sent a high, floating pass, wary of Devon's jumping ability. The problem was that this slowed the pass down considerably! So…
Thud!
Before I even caught the ball, the opponents closed in on me. Fortunately, I leaped, catching the ball, and…
Pow!
I took off the moment my feet hit the ground.
But not for long.
"…!"
Somehow, Devon, who had been way back a moment ago, was already charging up the field toward me! It was like facing a lion on the savannah. I was already scared enough, but then he shouted with lethal determination:
"Get him!"