"Left, check the spacing."
"Le-eft! Spaaaacing! Pay atteeeention!"
They say his dream is to be a soldier.
Maybe that's why his voice is already fit for a battlefield.
Tennessee had never, in his life, heard such a loud voice.
It wasn't just loud.
"Don't run."
"Don't ruuun! You're scouts! You don't have to grab everything!"
As expected of Jack, who had a knack for tactics.
"Fall back."
"Faaaall back! Check the rearguard liiiine!"
Even the shortest phrases transformed into highly detailed orders.
At this point, he wasn't just a megaphone — he was practically a translator.
Of course, immediate improvement in gameplay was too much to expect.
Even as they conceded a few goals, they worked steadily to organize the lines and stuck with defensive play until the end.
It took a solid 15 minutes to instill this basic principle.
The good news was that the defenders were starting to catch on.
By now, they were more or less holding their positions without needing explicit orders.
But as if to mock this progress:
Pa-ba-ba!
Park Ji-hoon charged straight into the densely packed defensive zone.
The defensive spacing was impeccable.
Perfectly coordinated.
The movements were synchronized beautifully.
And yet, he was coming through anyway?
Tennessee watched Park Ji-hoon's movements closely and gave the signal.
"Now."
"Garyyyy!"
In that instant, flash!
As if on cue, Gary dove.
Just before Park Ji-hoon could change direction, Gary wrapped his arms tightly around Ji-hoon's waist.
Normally, this would have been enough to knock him down.
But instead:
Swish.
Park Ji-hoon shifted his center of gravity backward to escape the immediate danger.
Grip.
He pressed down on Gary, loosening his grip.
Pop!
Finally, he broke free of Gary's hold entirely.
The defenders, confident that Gary's tackle had succeeded, dove in succession.
Thud.
They ended up lunging into thin air.
Having evaded the defense in one swift move, Park Ji-hoon glanced briefly in Tennessee's direction, almost tauntingly.
Even if he ran to the opposite side, he could still aim for a goal.
But instead:
Pa-bam!
Park Ji-hoon deliberately advanced toward Tennessee.
Oh, so he wants to take me on, huh?
At that moment.
"Move."
Tennessee spat out the short command.
Jack, mistaking it for an order, was about to shout it out loud but quickly replaced it with a puzzled look.
"I'll stop him. Step aside."
Did Park Ji-hoon have the same idea?
When Jack stepped aside, a smile spread across Park Ji-hoon's face.
And then.
Pa-ba-ba!
Like a raging bull, he charged forward with full determination.
Tennessee, like a seasoned matador, kept his eyes fixed firmly on Park Ji-hoon.
The distance was about 15 meters.
Will he change direction at the last second?
10 meters.
Or is he really planning to throw his body into this?
5 meters.
By now, neither could avoid a head-on collision.
Gritting his teeth, Tennessee lunged forward.
Kwah-ang!
He stopped Park Ji-hoon's advance with his entire body.
But that wasn't all.
Boom!
He managed to lift Park Ji-hoon completely off the ground.
'I won!'
All that was left was for Park Ji-hoon to fall flat on the ground. Or so Tennessee thought.
But then.
A quick glance.
Park Ji-hoon's head turned slightly to the left.
Swoosh.
Just as he was about to fall.
Whip!
He launched a behind-the-back pass!
Even though Tennessee had firmly secured his arms.
In the middle of falling, Park Ji-hoon twisted his body, breaking free from the grip.
And the ball?
"...!"
It landed perfectly in the hands of Leo, who had been trailing behind Park Ji-hoon.
The result?
Step.
With the last line of defense completely shattered, Leo casually waltzed toward the goal line unchallenged.
"Huff. Hufff."
Was it the release of tension?
All the breaths Tennessee had been holding back came rushing out at once.
I failed to defend?
How… is that even possible?
Tennessee looked at the fallen Park Ji-hoon and asked.
"Were you reading my tackle timing?"
Covered in grass, Park Ji-hoon nodded in response instead of speaking.
"How?"
"Can't you help me up first?"
Ah.
Tennessee grabbed Park Ji-hoon's outstretched hand.
Thud.
He pulled him up swiftly.
"How did you know?"
Park Ji-hoon's answer was simple: he had more or less anticipated Tennessee would tackle him the moment both his feet were airborne.
"So you turned that against me?"
"Not exactly."
"…?"
"I just wanted to hold my ground somehow. But it wasn't easy."
Of course not.
It had been a perfectly timed tackle, after all.
"What about the pass?"
"Would've been a waste not to make the most of how far I'd come. So I gave it a shot."
"Improvised, huh?"
Park Ji-hoon nodded.
Ha!
I let a rookie score on me?
Awakened by a surge of competitive spirit, Tennessee straightened up.
"Let's do it again."
"What?"
"What you just did. Try it again."
Tennessee's voice was dead serious.
***
After school, in the training room.
"He wouldn't follow me here… right?"
Jack's words made me chuckle.
"I thought he was indifferent about everything, but that guy's obsession is borderline monstrous."
The reason Jack was saying this was obvious: Tennessee kept challenging me to rematches.
It wasn't just during gym class.
We continued competing until the very moment the next class began.
And that wasn't all.
We battled on the field every break time.
At first, it was 5-on-5.
But as the games went on, it became 4-on-6, with Tennessee's experienced side taking the upper hand.
By then, perhaps realizing the absurdity of it all, Tennessee blurted out something unbelievable:
"This is why I hate rugby."
Then, looking embarrassed, he slinked away.
"Not tired?"
"I'm actually having fun."
And why wouldn't I?
This was the first time I'd faced a decent defender.
Up until now, I'd been playing against Devon, but he wasn't even close to being a match.
When I sparred with Jack out of frustration, it didn't work either — we were both attackers, so our playstyles didn't align.
But then, along came Tennessee, a brilliant defender who kept challenging me every single chance he got!
I mean, seriously, thank you, Tennessee.
While I was deep in thought, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
Clomp, clomp.
It sounded like a teacher was arriving earlier than usual today.
But instead…
What on earth?
"Ugh!"
Seeing the shadow looming over the entrance, Jack let out a groan.
'That guy's here again!'
Jack shot me a look as if asking, Are you okay with this?
Hehehe.
I couldn't be more thrilled!
Tennessee silently began stretching, as if his sole purpose for being here was weight training and had nothing to do with us.
Yet he kept sneaking glances at me in the mirror.
If he's come all this way, it must mean even a 6-to-4 win ratio isn't good enough for him.
He's bound to seize the moment to challenge me again.
Fine by me!
I simply smiled again, delighted.
***
Meanwhile, in the faculty room.
Classes were over, and Devon quickly changed into his clothes.
An Ultimate Hoodie!
It was oversized, so he thought the competition for it wouldn't be too intense.
Still, just in case — really, just in case — he had gone to the store the day before.
But what was this?
There was already a line!
Thinking back on it gave him shivers.
"If I'd gotten complacent, I would've been in big trouble."
Devon shook his head in disbelief.
Anyway!
It was a piece he had fought sweat and tears to get.
"That Park Ji-hoon… It's not like he brags about having so many Ultimate Hoodies, but he wears a different one every day… Well, guess what? Now I have them all, too!"
Feeling good, Devon got up, only to be startled by a deep voice behind him.
"Teacher?"
Good grief!
Turning his head, he found a face as big as a watermelon standing right there.
"I'm Ralph, a second-year."
"What now?"
"Well, uh, I'm here about the selection match against the first-years."
"You said you weren't doing it."
"Ah, well, after thinking it over, we decided it would be best to accept."
"You've got to be kidding me."
Devon glared, and Ralph shrank back like a turtle.
"What's gotten into you this time?"
"Well, rugby is indeed about unity. But we thought that accepting the first-years' proposal could also be considered a part of unity in the broader sense…"
"Did Carl Bernstein tell you to say that?"
"Pardon?"
Ralph's expression screamed, Why do we need to explain this to another player?
"No, not at all. We came to this conclusion democratically…"
"Even dictators hold votes."
"Excuse me?"
"They just check who voted for who with guns and knives."
"Ah, no, we would never… we don't have anything like that…"
Ralph was just about to discreetly bow and leave when—
"And you."
Devon's voice carried a sharp edge, causing Ralph to hurriedly turn back.
"Sometimes, you'll run into conflicts with juniors. It happens. Schools are just microcosms of life, so I don't intend to meddle in every little thing. But."
"…!"
"Don't go picking fights recklessly on concrete floors or anything like that."
"What do you mean by that…"
"If you don't get it, memorize this: no fighting unless it's on the mat."
"…?"
"Say it after me."
"No, no fighting unless it's on the mat."
"Again."
"No fighting unless it's on the mat…"
"Louder!"
"No fighting unless it's on the mat!"
After making Ralph repeat it three full times, Devon finally let him go.
***
30 minutes later, in the training room.
"Eight! Nine! Ten!"
When I lifted the barbell ten times,
"Ten! Ten… plus… one…"
Tennessee stubbornly forced himself to lift one more rep.
While I had been training consistently, he must've taken a long break from exercising.
Yet Tennessee gritted his teeth and somehow managed to keep up.
One peculiar thing stood out, though.
No matter how exhausted he got, Tennessee never sprawled on the floor.
Was it out of pride?
Most of the time, he stood to rest, and only when he was utterly spent did he sit halfway on the bench, gasping for breath.
"Huff… huff…"
With a rookie working this hard… maybe it was time for me to shift gears, too.
I tightened my core, gripped the barbell, and told myself, Let's go all out until I hit my limit.
Maybe he sensed my determination.
"One! Two! Three!"
Even Devon's voice became charged with energy.
"Fifteen! Sixteen! Seventeen! One more? Ohhh, eighteen! Park Ji-hoon's on fire today!"
Too out of breath to respond, I just nodded.
"Alright, alright. Look at him go. Keep it up, buddy," Devon teased lightly.
Now it was Tennessee's turn.
A guy who couldn't stand losing, he must've known the match was already decided before he even started.
His face, as he stared down at the barbell, didn't look great.
But still, he gave it a shot.
"Ten! Eleven! Twe-e-e-e-lve! Thirtee-e-e-een—hey, stop! You're gonna keel over."
Though he clearly wanted to keep going,
Thud.
The barbell hit the ground.
Because lifting weight takes more than strength and technique—it also takes knowing your limits.
"Damn it."
He swallowed his frustration and turned away, heavy-hearted.
Throughout the rest of the training session, Tennessee kept facing similar moments.
When it was all over—
"What do you want to eat?"
"…"
"Fine. Just eat whatever they serve you."
After Devon left to grab food, Jack and I were sprawled out on the floor when, to my surprise, Tennessee came trudging over to me.
"Want me to give you a chance for revenge?"
His words came out of nowhere.
"Rugby. I've won more matches. Doesn't that bother you?"
I propped myself up halfway and replied casually.
"Bother me? Not at all."
After all, having a defender who could beat me watching my back was pretty reassuring.
"Feels pretty solid, actually."
"…?"
"We're a team, aren't we?"
It must not have been the answer he wanted to hear, because Tennessee pursed his lips and abruptly turned away.