2014: Unforced Errors (4/4) (for 181cms)

[enaemouredmods]

( game, set, and match ) The start of the rigorous study season up until Sooneung sees less practices for the seniors and more hours spent holed in classrooms long after class has finished, or extended lectures in hagwons. Chanyeol signs himself up for extra hours of science hagwon, and Jongdae takes advanced classes in mathematics and other languages despite his already-good exam results. "Can't be too sure," Jongdae says as he stuffs his readings in his bag, frowning at the sight of dog-ears. He stares at the edges some before raising it in front of him and saying, "I'm gonna have this exchanged." Baekhyun snorts. "It's your fault the manual got dog-ears. If you got a book from my store and asked me to exchange it with a new one after getting those imperfections on the book—" "Whatever, whatever!" Jongdae dismisses Baekhyun with a wave of the hand. "I'm obviously kind enough to look past the dog-ears—" Kyungsoo sighs dramatically. "Can you really study while seeing those creases and the folds in the corners?" "You— Don't use your perfect English enunciation on me. I'm taking English and French and Chinese and I'm really struggling—" Kyungsoo snorts. "I'm taking up the same languages. You're not the only one trying to get into a Liberal Arts course, you know." "And yet!" Chanyeol interrupts, then rests a hand on Jongdae's shoulder. "Kyungsoo doesn't pronounce 'creases' as 'crisis'." "I'm dropping out of this team, of this school, of your life forever!" Jongdae leaves in a huff, heavy bag in tow, and Chanyeol runs after him with the manual he's abandoned on the bench, laughter still bubbling on his lips. "Hey," Baekhyun says now, back in his school clothes and out of his practice outfit. "Wanna grab food before we study?" They head to a food cart much closer to the bus station this time, about a good ten minutes away from the school. Baekhyun's digging into a mix of kimbap and odeng this time, saying that it's not quite a perfect day for tteokbokki. "But everyday's a perfect day for tteokbokki," Kyungsoo argues, poking at Baekhyun's lips with a slice of tteok, and Baekhyun agrees after a while. He rolls his eyes as he parts his lips, eyes fixed on Kyungsoo's own while chewing the tteok. "So," Baekhyun begins, now stealing some tteok from Kyungsoo. "Sooneung." Eight years ago, Kyungsoo would have laughed at the thought of spending so much time studying for a one-day, nine-hour exam that will dictate your future. He'd always been the studious type, but he'd somehow found a way to unwind despite the stress from school — that was when tennis came in as a form of release. Tennis keeps him sane, makes him look forward to life after school and before studying again until the whee hours of the morning and, now that it's being taken away from him forcibly for a chance to go to the school of his dreams, for his future, he's not sure if tteokbokki will be enough to get him through the insurmountable schoolwork and readings he has to study just to get a good enough score to qualify for SKY. Double fault, a voice at the back of his mind says. The sound of the buzzer is sharp in his ears. He can see Yonsei, Korea University, and Seoul University in the distance. There's the magic word for scholarship at the tip of his tongue and something akin to respite in Baekhyun's eyes. He takes a deep breath and leans forward until their shoulders bump. "I just want to play tennis and sleep and not open my books for the next few weeks. Months. But of course that won't happen because we have to study for the national exams." Baekhyun's laughter tickles his skin, too close for comfort now. The vendor's giving them a weird look, but then they bought all these dishes — they're entitled to a bit of this right now. "Wanna come over? We can study at my place," Baekhyun says. The tips of their nose touch. "Halmeoni makes the best rice cakes and tea." Kyungsoo chuckles. "You're making me want to sleep all the more." "Sleep on the way to my house. After that, we study. Or you teach me the languages you've been studying and I'll try to solve these stupid math equations." Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. He laces his fingers with Baekhyun's briefly before pulling away with an easy smile. "Sounds like a plan," he says, then eats the last piece of tteok on his plate. Baekhyun grumbles. Kyungsoo sticks out his tongue in response, skin still red and sensitive from the heat of the gochujang and Baekhyun's warmth. Three straight days of studying in Baekhyun's house and the travel seems like just a stone's throw away now. One minute, he'd be slipping into a bus with Baekhyun; the next, they'd be alighting, Baekhyun's hand a warm presence on the small of his back. There'll be tea and cookies and sweet food and basically everything Kyungsoo can ever ask for during study sessions. There'll also be Baekhyun's grandmother telling him about Baekhyun's childhood, Baekhyun's celebratory dance before drinking tea and the way he'd slump in his seat after one too many cups, completely pacified by the drink. "You're the first friend from high school he has brought over, you know," Baekhyun grandmother mentions one time, while Baekhyun's busy whipping up breakfast in the kitchen. She'd asked him to stay the night since it's the weekend, anyway. I'll talk to your mother if she thinks you're not really studying! Kyungsoo puts down the scarf he's helping her put together and furrows his eyebrows. "Not even… Chanyeol and Jongdae, halmeoni?" he asks, cocking his head slightly. "Oh, you know Baekhyunnie… He's loud and obnoxious but he doesn't like… having too many attachments." She giggles a little. "Maybe that's why I'm the only woman in his life." Kyungsoo chuckles. "He doesn't need anyone else; you're more than enough for him." "And you..." She looks up at Kyungsoo and reaches over, ruffling his hair a little. "Make the burden of having to take care of me much easier for him," she finishes. "You make him smile a lot, Kyungsoo. Don't stop doing that, okay?" He can hear Baekhyun's noises from the kitchen, Baekhyun sounding off the distress signal and calling for help without actually using the words help and I'm helpless, but he instead he reaches for her hands, squeezing them lightly. "I think I cause him more headache than anything else, but I'm glad you think I make him smile," he says in reply. "You always have, even when you were kids." She squints hard and scrunches her nose. "Has he ever told you that you're the reason he got into tennis?" Kyungsoo's eyes widen. "I… am?" "I could use some help here!" comes Baekhyun's voice, too loud for an early morning treat. His grandmother simply smiles at Kyungsoo and whispers, "You better try to salvage our breakfast," before picking up from where he has left off in the scarf. Kyungsoo stands from his seat, a funny, lurching sensation at the pit of his stomach. It's not the hunger talking, but there is the sound of Baekhyun's voice at the back of his mind, Baekhyun's obnoxious laughter filling his senses. D-day finally arrives, and the cold winds bites with a vengeance. Kyungsoo stuffs his hands deep in his pockets; Baekhyun guides a hand through the small space, as well, fingers shaking as he slips them between Kyungsoo's own. Chanyeol is wrapped from head to toe, and the only thing that isn't covered is his eyes and the tip of his nose. Jongdae tiptoes to poke at it and sneers when Chanyeol simply scowls at him. "I'm spending a day in bed after this, read books of play with my Gameboy," Kyungsoo mumbles, lips trembling as he tries his best to enunciate the syllables properly. "And I'm going to sleep and skip practice on Saturday and—" "Eat tteokbokki with me?" Baekhyun whispers, lips dangerously close when he leans in. Kyungsoo gives him a long look before replying, "Nah, sleeping sounds more inviting." Baekhyun nudges him in his side with his elbow but grins, anyway. The gates finally open and the students are asked to fall in line. The parents part with their children rather unwillingly, and it takes longer than the usual for Jongdae to say goodbye to his mother and pull away from the hug. "So, this is it huh?" Kyungsoo says, voice barely above a whisper, and Baekhyun turns to look in his direction, one hand outstretched, warmth offered in the soft smile on Baekhyun's lips. "Let's kick ass and ace this exam!" Baekhyun says, loud enough to get the attention of the other students passing by. Some snort at him, some call him crazy; Chanyeol goes for 'weird' but holds Kyungsoo's other hand, anyway, and forcibly takes Jongdae's hand to his right. Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. It's now or never. "Let's do this!" The week following Sooneung sees the seniors getting back on court, Yunho giving them drills so they can get back on track. There's one more tournament before the end of the year, one Yunho has already signed them up for saying that it will be good training, and, "Especially for these four who are applying for an athletic scholarship." Chanyeol mumbles something that sounds a lot like thanks, coach, thanks for actually consulting us and Jongdae simply shrugs. Baekhyun's the only one who expresses enough interest in clocking in earlier than the usual for practice, saying there are a lot of things that he has to catch up on. "Sometimes, I'm not sure if Baekhyun's just crazy or if he's just really, really crazy," Chanyeol comments. He scrunches his nose before tossing the ball in the air, serving to Kyungsoo's left. Kyungsoo grins before returning the shot with a forehand, and Chanyeol counters with a passing shot that ends up hitting the net. He blows at his bangs. "Who in his right mind would even want extra hours of tennis practice after Sooneung?" "He really needs that scholarship," is all the Kyungsoo says as he approaches the net. "And stop dragging your left foot — quick side steps, Yeol. You never—" "— learn, I know," Chanyeol finishes. He hits Kyungsoo on the head with the strings of his racket very, very lightly. "So, which school are you hoping to go to?" The talk on Kyungsoo's university of choice has always ended up with Kyungsoo giving an elaborate speech about pursuing dreams and going with gut feel, and half the time Chanyeol just stares at him as if saying, and your point is? "I really want to go to Yonsei," Kyungsoo answers after a while, midway through a rally, and Chanyeol doesn't say anything. Kyungsoo takes it as a sign to go on. "You know I've wanted to enter Yonsei for the longest time." "What's keeping you from going there, then?" Kyungsoo laughs a little. "Test scores?" He laughs even more when Chanyeol rolls his eyes and hits another shot to the net, scowling as the ball makes contact with the net. Kyungsoo takes a ball out of his pocket and raises it in front of him, and Chanyeol nods before Kyungsoo tosses it in the air. "And the fact that Jihoon studies there." Chanyeol snorts. "I'd ask why that's a problem, but I know you don't want to talk about it." Kyungsoo hits a forehand passing shot to the baseline, and Chanyeol shakes his head as he watches the ball speed past him. "It's not much of a story, really." "Then serve." Chanyeol isn't the type of person to prod — he'll wait, patiently looking for an opening where he can aim an unreturnable shot, or prolong a rally until the opponent gives up and gives in. He isn't the type to think that things will just fall into place, but he knows that there are times when he simply can't make things happen — when he's incurred an injury or when Kyungsoo's mouth is flaring up with all the tteokbokki he has eaten and there's no milk in sight, when Kyungsoo has all these walls up and he won't toss the key over the wall so Chanyeol can catch it, even if Chanyeol only ever has to knock thrice if he wants in. "Jihoon and I… had something going on in the past." Chanyeol stands straight, arms falling to his sides. Kyungsoo checks Chanyeol's grip — loose enough that he can expect Chanyeol to not lash out at him, but still tight enough that Kyungsoo keeps a good distance between the two of them. He stands just a foot outside the service box. "He liked me, and I liked him. I mean, he's a likeable enough. He was nice the first few months, until exams drew nearer and—" "And?" Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. He can feel a flash of pain in his elbow, shooting all the way up to his shoulder. "Until he found out I was a southpaw." Chanyeol scrunches his nose. "I… don't understand how that can be bad." "Well, Jihoon can be selfish," Kyungsoo confesses. "He found out by accident — I was out in the courts late, practicing alone. That was when I'd finally perfected the American Twist. I was serving with my left and when I got it right, I told myself I'd start playing as a southpaw again." "And he didn't like that," Chanyeol says, voice dropping to a whisper when he adds, "Because he's grown accustomed to your right-handed play." "And playing with my left will screw up our dynamics," Kyungsoo affirms. "The exhibition match was slated to happen a week after that night. He told me to never play with my left again, that he badly needed that scholarship in Yonsei and that a week wouldn't be enough to adjust to my new playing style." Chanyeol worries his lower lip. He has his hands on the net now, and his eyebrows are furrowed. "And what did you do?" Kyungsoo scoffs. "It was pretty stupid, when I think about it now. I could've just said yes because I was used to playing with my right, anyway, and being a southpaw means being the butt of all jokes. You know how it's frowned upon in amateur tennis. But… I said he was out of line and that he was being selfish. So he said, if you want to play with your left so much, then you won't need your right arm anymore. And then he… struck my right elbow with his racket." "Oh my God, Kyungsoo. I didn't know he—" There's a small, weak smile on Kyungsoo's lips when he looks up at Chanyeol. Chanyeol's shaking all over — sad news always gets to him more than it does to Kyungsoo, but Chanyeol's lips are trembling and his breathing is uneven, and his fists are now pale. He reaches out to steady Chanyeol's hands, but Chanyeol only exhales loudly, voice choked as he says, "That fucker—" "Hey, it's all in the past now." Kyungsoo rubs circles on Chanyeol's hands. "I can play again; that's all that matters." Chanyeol takes a deep breath, closing his eyes in accord. Kyungsoo can hear the hitch in Chanyeol's breathing, can see the furrow of his eyebrows, and if only he can reach up then he can ease those creases and somehow make Chanyeol feel better. Like doubles, a voice at the back of his mind says. Teamwork. Someone's down for the count, so the other covers for him. No one has to pull nobody further down. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Chanyeol asks. "I could've— The seniors that time were all going on about you being weak and unfit for tennis and that you were only good because Jihoon—" "That fucker, yes." "Because Jihoon—" The beginnings of laughter bubble on Chanyeol's lips. "I really, really hate you, you know that?" Kyungsoo reaches up, tiptoes to the best of his ability, and Chanyeol meets him halfway by bending his knees a little. "And I hate you, too, for doing that," he replies, ruffling Chanyeol's hair. "And well, I wanted to sort out my shit before getting other people involved." "I'm not one of those other people, Kyungsoo. I'm your best friend." Kyungsoo cackles. "Yeah. Could've been more, though." Chanyeol scoffs, snorts, makes this unattractive noise that has Kyungsoo taking a step back and raising an eyebrow at Chanyeol. Chanyeol's skilled at masking his feelings, but the trick is in observing him during the first few seconds of a reaction — then you'll see the rawest of emotions, the pure ones that Chanyeol hasn't had the chance to filter yet, the ones Chanyeol sometimes can't be assed to hold back. "Nah, I don't—" Chanyeol laughs a little, worrying his lower lip, and his mouth slowly eases back into a smile. "I think you deserve someone who has the balls to call you out on your fears." Baekhyun's yelling two courts away, pointing an accusing finger at Jongdae while gesturing something about the lines and the big court and — Jongdae's face? Baekhyun makes clawing motions in front of Jongdae, racket tucked between his knees. Kyungsoo laughs a little. "You mean, someone who can annoy the shit out of me that I won't have a choice but to go with what he says?" "Well…" Chanyeol gives him a long look, both hands secure on his shoulders. He's warm again, and there's a peculiar smile on the curve of the lip. Kyungsoo looks around for an audience, then leans his head on Chanyeol's hand, the heat seeping through his skin. "That's a pretty good way to put it," Chanyeol says after a while, and he withdraws his hands, picks up his racket, and extends a hand in Kyungsoo's direction. "That was a great match." "It was pretty one-sided, to be honest," Kyungsoo says in reply. There's still the hint of Chanyeol laughter in the corners of his lips. He counts to three, waiting for the ball toss, waiting for Chanyeol's serve. Chanyeol squeezes his hand, brief and warm. "Yeah," Chanyeol says, chuckling. "Pretty one-sided. Baekhyun takes the ball for him. The point has been won. Life after Sooneung means sleeping earlier at night, or at least spending hours lying in bed, thinking about the results. Only a week until the test scores come out, and Kyungsoo's arranging application forms on his study table, each set of documents labelled according to which school is asking for what, color-coded so he won't lose track of his things. "Do you do this all the time?" Baekhyun asks, turning over so that he's lying flat on his belly. He has his hands propped under his chin, and Kyungsoo simply throws a crumpled piece of paper at him. "Shut up, I'm trying to concentrate." "You've been arranging and rearranging your papers for the past thirty minutes. If you did accidentally throw something like—" Baekhyun raises the ball of paper and throws it back at Kyungsoo. "Like that one, then chances are you won't get it back. And you're welcome; I think that's supposed to be in your Yonsei folder." Kyungsoo narrows his eyes at Baekhyun. "Fuck you," he mumbles, then slips the papers in their respective folders. "I just want to make sure everything's ready for when the results come out, you know? Make things perfect and—" "Nothing's perfect. Nothing will ever be." Baekhyun pushes himself off the bed and extends his legs in front of him. "You just have to do your best and make the best out of what you have." "Well," Kyungsoo begins, shifting in his seat so that he's facing Baekhyun. "That explains why you moved to Whimoon during second year. Halmeoni said I was the reason you even picked up a racket—" "She did not." "And that—" Kyungsoo gets up from his seat and makes his way to the bed, straddling Baekhyun as he gets on it, knees trapping the latter beneath him. "—you followed me all the way to Whimoon to worship me." Baekhyun chuckles but snakes his hands around Kyungsoo's waist, anyway, pulling him close until Kyungsoo is sitting on his legs. "Okay, you're definitely making that thing up." Kyungsoo stops for a while, taking a deep breath as he leans in until their foreheads bumps. "Of course I was," he whispers, and he presses his lips lightly on the corner of Baekhyun's mouth, smiling when he feels the upward tug of Baekhyun's lips. "But it's half true, you know that." "Well…" Kyungsoo traces the length of Baekhyun's face, fingers landing on the collarbones. Baekhyun stills. Baekhyun's almost always moving, heading in many different directions, but right now he's trapped under the weight of Kyungsoo's body, Kyungsoo's lips hovering his. It feels different, Kyungsoo thinks, when he's on this side of the court, when he's the one pushing and pushing until Baekhyun doesn't have anything more to give, taking and taking until Baekhyun so helplessly surrenders (but he knows Baekhyun has a lot of tricks up his sleeve; he'll never run dry of magic). "Well, thank you," Kyungsoo says, pausing to catch Baekhyun's upper lip between his lips. "For making that move, for going to Whimoon." "I just wanted you to teach me that serve, y'know," Baekhyun teases, giggling. The vibrations tickle Kyungsoo's skin. Beyond the door, there's the sound of his mother calling their names, telling them to come down, dinner is ready, it's your favorite, Kyungsoo! Or was it Baekhyunnie's? "Your mom's calling," Baekhyun says, and Kyungsoo shakes his head, presses their lips together, mouths sliding inelegantly with every lick and suck and groan. "Do we tell her we snuck in spicy snacks?" Baekhyun says, massaging his lips in front of the mirror. Kyungsoo chuckles and reaches out to curl his fingers on the base of Baekhyun's neck to pull him closer, pulling away just before their lips brush. He turns the knob. "We can tell her we got into a row because you called dibs on Yonsei." "But I did call dibs on Yonsei!" "Not before I was born, you didn't." Kyungsoo gives Baekhyun a slap on the butt and tells him to go, go, get a move on. It will always be a competition, but nobody ever said somebody had to lose. It's a win-win situation, really. Three months until the day the results are released and scouts from SKY arrive in the courts. Yunho's got this commercial smile of his on his lips, and Chanyeol tries really hard to keep it together despite Jongdae and Baekhyun doing their best Yunho imitations just a few feet away. "We're really glad to have you here," Chanyeol says as a greeting, and they all bow to the scouts, hands clasped together in the hope of landing a scholarship in Korea's top universities. "Since the scouts don't have much time, we'll just have two matches," Yunho explains. He shows the scouts to their seats, then turns to the four as he continues, "Baekhyun and Kyungsoo, you're up first. Chanyeol and Jongdae, your match starts ten minutes after theirs ends." "We're… not playing as a doubles team?" Baekhyun asks, eyebrows furrowed. Yunho shakes his head, a perfunctory smile on his lips. The last time they'd ever had a match against each other was months ago, a match they hadn't even kept score of. Kyungsoo had won then, 7-6(9), and Baekhyun complained about the wind blowing too strong, the tension of his racket strings not being in good condition, the court seemingly too big for just one person to stand on one side of the court. Kyungsoo lays a palm flat on Baekhyun's shoulders and squeezes hard enough to earn a yelp from Baekhyun. "Scared, Byun?" Baekhyun snorts, spine straight, chin turned up. "You wish." Kyungsoo watches as Baekhyun walks to the net and nearly trips on his own foot, watches as Baekhyun cracks his neck and locks his arms behind his back, a new light in his eyes. It feels like 2003 again, that match in the open courts where he'd beaten Baekhyun to a pulp. Or maybe that match when they'd seen each other again for the first time in so long, and in Whimoon even. Kyungsoo takes a deep breath as Yunho signals for them to come closer for the coin toss. "Heads," Kyungsoo says, voice loud enough that it rings in his ears. Baekhyun raises his eyebrows for a while before slipping back into a more composed look. "Tails, then. Heads gets to serve first." Yunho flips the coin and snatches it midair, placing the coin flat on the back of his hand. Yunho then lets his other hand fall to his side as he calls out, "Heads!" Kyungsoo gives Baekhyun a curt nod before retreating to the service court. Baekhyun has been moving around quicker than when they'd last played alongside each other and against each other. He's employing a completely different technique to reach the shots Kyungsoo has been aiming at the corners, sliding from left to right whenever possible, right arm extended as he hits a forehand down the line. The angle is deep enough that the ball bounces sharply outside the court even before Kyungsoo can attempt to return it with a backhand. 4-4 now. Baekhyun pumps his fist in the air as Yunho announces the score. Kyungsoo simply shrugs as he heads to the baseline, preparing to serve. He takes time to bounce the ball with his hand, observing the way Baekhyun's eyes follow the movement of his hands. He tosses the ball in the air, draws his left hand back, and swings forward, cutting through the air with a slicing motion as he sends the ball to the other side of the court. Baekhyun is quick to react, stepping to his right and closer to the center as he meets the ball with a forehand. Kyungsoo counters with a backhand passing shot, and Baekhyun scowls when the Zitao calls the ball in. Don't choke, Kyungsoo reminds himself. He tosses the ball in the air, slightly to the left, and adjusts his swing from the extreme left, moving to the right as he hits the ball. He can see the faintest hint of a smile on Baekhyun's lips. 30-0. Kyungsoo hits a flat serve to the middle this time, and Baekhyun reacts quickly enough to counter with a double-handed backhand. The ball catches the tip of the net and tips back into Baekhyun's side of the court, and soon Baekhyun's laughing out loud as Zitao calls the ball a fault, giving the point to Kyungsoo. 40-0. "Is this the part where I wait for you to screw up your own game?" Baekhyun asks, grinning. Kyungsoo simply shakes his head. In this dream, he's hitting clean shots, playing carefully enough that he won't make wrong calls as to the strokes he's supposed to employ but not too stiff that he second-guesses himself for a split second before hitting the ball. In this dream, he's at 40-0, just a point shy of keeping his service at 5-4, and setting himself up to win the match at 6-4. He clenches his fists, nails digging deep into his skin, and in a blink of an eye he can hear Yunho telling him to get going and serve, can see the challenge scrawled all over Baekhyun's skin, the teasing glint in his eyes, the upward curl of the lip. He tosses the ball in the air again — only slightly to the left — and draws his left arm back, waiting for the ball to fall to the exact spot where he wants it to be before swinging from left to right. He exhales as he hits the ball, the sound of the ball hitting the sweet spot making him smile on instinct. Game, Do — 5-4. "Hey, don't choke," he calls out to Baekhyun, and Baekhyun just rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue at him as he dribbles the ball with his hand, preparing for his service game. Kyungsoo bends his knees and grips his racket tight. Baekhyun serves. "Well, someone's nervous." Kyungsoo looks to his side and raises an eyebrow at Baekhyun. A huge crowd isn't a foreign sight to him, especially in a match, but the dome makes the court seem so much bigger than it is. He's lost all the feeling in his hands since they've entered the stadium, and Jongdae's chants of we are the pride of the nation; we've got to do our best. This is the Olympics. We can't screw things up. only make his insides turn all the more. "Says the guy who dropped his service game and let me win 6-4 in front of SKY's scouts," Kyungsoo teases. He clears his throat, clenches his fists, then unclenches them again. "Aren't you, K.U. kid?" he adds, nudging Baekhyun with his elbow. "Oh, I'm sorry — the pride of Korea University, I mean. I keep forgetting that people there hate it when outsiders abbreviate the university's name—" Baekhyun scowls, one foot hovering Kyungsoo's own. He applies pressure on it just before Chanyeol can look over his shoulder, mouthing, someone make Jongdae stop, please? Two years of tennis training in university, of playing in the professional tennis scene, and Kyungsoo still feels like he knows nothing about tennis but the types of grips and how to toss a ball. He feels like he's ten again, or maybe even eight, still holding a pan in his hand and playing with a pomelo, both the thrill and fear of getting caught by his mother driving him to try out something he's never done before. "Doubles two for Korea?" says the umpire, and Baekhyun rests a hand on the small of his back, pushing him forward just slightly. "Well I'm really fucking nervous," Baekhyun whispers as they pass the gates. They follow the umpire to the net, and Kyungsoo keeps his eyes on the ground, like at any moment he'd trip on his feet and screw things up. "Any idea how I can fix that, genius from Yonsei?" "Years after and you're still counting on me to pick up after you?" Baekhyun cackles. "Old habits die hard." They're up against Australia today, and the umpire's asking them to choose a side of the coin. He acts on instinct, says, "Heads!" as soon as the question is given. Baekhyun makes no move to counter, just nods in agreement. Kyungsoo watches as the umpire flips the coin, as he takes it and lays it flat on the back of his hand. He takes a deep breath and thinks of all the matches he's played — the victories and losses, even the draws — late nights spent practicing and running through tennis routine in his head. He thinks of standing on the court alone, of looking over his shoulder to find a soothing presence just beyond the baseline, giving him a toothy grin and a thumbs up as he mouths, don't choke, Kyungsoo. He thinks of fulfilling dreams. He dreams of winning the gold for Korea. "Heads. Korea takes the opening serve." He turns on his heel, and Baekhyun's racket finds his as they make their rackets clash in the air, the soft sound of the contact making Kyungsoo smile. Opposite him, Baekhyun is grinning, his smile reaching his eyes. There's still the same old Baekhyun he played against back in 2003, the same Baekhyun he has trained with back in high school — Byun Baekhyun whose dreams he'd shared with when they played doubles, when they slipped back into singles, and met again on court to play alongside each other, two souls yearning completion. Kyungsoo takes a step back from the baseline and tosses the ball in the air. He can hear Baekhyun's light laughter a few feet away. He dreams with Baekhyun. one | two | three | four MOD NOTE: You've reached the end of the fic! Thank you for reading. If you'd like to leave a comment, please do so in THIS Livejournal post! 1. The entire fic is set in 2010. The last section, the part where Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Jongdae represent Korea in the Olympics, happens in 2012. 2. The rehabilitation facility at Arabellastraße is a real place. 2. Goran Ivanisevic, Andy Murray, and Michael Chang did not take a blow to their tennis playing arm and get injured because of it, but these tennis players are real. 3. Quick lesson on the parts of a tennis racket! The beam is the frame of the racket, while the sweet spot is somewhere towards the center of the face of the racket. It's where you want the ball to hit so you can return it with a nice enough shot. The throat is the empty triangular space just between the head of the racket and the grip. The grip is the handle of the racket. 4. Andy Roddick's matches mentioned in this fic (winning over Dudi Sela and losing to Novak Djokovic) are real. 5. Hagwon is the Korean term for "cram school", but more than just providing necessary tutoring sessions for students struggling with their grades, hagwon can also help students who are looking for supplementary education and looking to advance their knowledge in preparation for a big exam. 6. Bungeoppang is a Korean pastry that is much like the Japanese taiyaki. 7. The ah-un technique was shamelessly taken from Prince of Tennis — the match where Momoshiro and Echizen teamed up for doubles in particular. 8. The stores in Kolon Sporex in Seocho-dong are fictional. The sports center, however, does exist in real life. 9. Sooneung is the Korean College Scholastic Ability Test, held only once a year, every second or third Thursday of November. 10. SKY is an acronym for the top three universities in Korea — Seoul National University, Korea University, and Yonsei University. 11. Students in Korea hoping to take a Liberal Arts course when they go to college are required to know at least four different languages — Korean, English, and then two others.