The soft light of dawn filtered through the small windows, casting a pale glow across the room. One by one, the boys stirred, groggy and heavy-lidded, the haze of sleep reluctantly peeling away. Joon-ho stretched first, letting out a stifled yawn as he blinked at the ceiling. His mind, still fogged from restless anticipation, took a moment to process the most unexpected discovery—nothing had happened.
Min-jae sat up next, rubbing his eyes and glancing around. The silence of the room was almost eerie, considering how their nerves had been stretched thin the previous night. No sudden alarms, no freezing water, no instructors looming with devious grins—just the stillness of the morning.
Tae-young groaned as he rolled onto his back, his ego bruised by the realization that all his calculated confidence about staying prepared had been for nothing.
"All that for this?" he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
Kang-dae was slower to rise, his massive form unfolding as he rubbed his stiff neck. He glanced at the others, noting their shared, sheepish expressions. Despite his gentle demeanour, he couldn't suppress a low chuckle at the absurdity of their collective overthinking.
In-su and Chin-hwa moved almost simultaneously, gathering their blankets and straightening their corners with meticulous care, their faces unreadable but their movements brisk. Neither spoke, yet their actions seemed to echo the same sentiment: a quiet acknowledgement of how utterly unnecessary their mental turmoil had been.
Kyu, true to his silent nature, remained in his corner, tidying his sleeping space with deliberate precision. His expression betrayed no embarrassment, but the slight pause in his movements hinted at a sliver of introspection.
As they folded and stacked their blankets, the unspoken embarrassment hung in the air. Each of them, in their way, felt the sting of having been outplayed—not by the instructors, but by their imaginations. The realization was humbling, even if no one was willing to voice it aloud.
The instructors, of course, had planned this perfectly. Repeating the same test would have dulled its impact, rendering it ineffective. The previous morning's surprise had achieved its purpose, leaving the boys guessing and, ultimately, teaching them the value of readiness. Now, as the boys moved about in quiet reflection, the instructors' lesson lingered, even in their absence.
The boys moved as a group toward the shared bathroom, their pace unhurried and the silence between them still charged with the lingering awkwardness of their self-inflicted restlessness. As they turned the corner to the entrance, they were met with the sight of three figures stepping out—Instructor Dong-soo, Instructor Ji-woo, and Instructor Seung-hyun.
The instructors were mid-conversation, their casual postures betraying none of the stern authority they often exuded during training. At the sight of the boys, they paused, their eyes briefly scanning the group before a mischievous grin spread across Instructor Dong-soo's face.
"Well, look who finally decided to join the day," he quipped his tone light but carrying just enough edge to make the boys squirm. "Late risers today, huh?"
Instructor Ji-woo raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in mock disappointment.
"You'd think after yesterday's lesson, they'd be ready for anything. Guess we were wrong."
Instructor Seung-hyun chuckled, stepping aside to clear the path.
"They must've been so confident nothing would happen this morning that they just decided to sleep in." His words dripped with a teasing sarcasm, the kind designed to poke at fragile egos.
The boys froze for a fraction of a second, their minds racing for the right response. Of course, the instructors knew exactly what had transpired—how the fear of a repeat test had kept them all awake, tossing and turning. But none of the boys were about to admit it. To react would be to give the instructors the satisfaction of knowing their plan had worked perfectly.
Tae-young was the first to move, his expression impassive as he brushed past the instructors without so much as a glance. The rest of the group followed his lead, adopting various shades of indifference. Min-jae kept his gaze fixed ahead, while Joon-ho muttered something inaudible under his breath. Kang-dae offered a polite nod but nothing more, his large frame towering over the instructors as he walked by.
In-su and Chin-hwa mirrored each other in their restraint, their faces unreadable as they sidestepped the instructors. Kyu, as always, remained utterly silent, his measured pace and calm demeanour giving nothing away.
The instructors exchanged knowing looks, their smirks widening as the boys disappeared into the bathroom.
"Looks like we struck a nerve," Instructor Dong-soo remarked, his voice low but laced with satisfaction.
Instructor Ji-woo shrugged, his grin still lingering.
"Let them stew on it. They'll thank us one day… maybe."
Instructor Seung-hyun laughed, shaking his head.
"Doubtful. But it's good for them, either way."
Inside the bathroom, the boys exhaled collectively, though no one dared to comment on the encounter. They went about their morning routines in silence, each replaying the scene in their heads. The instructors might have gotten the last word for now, but the boys silently resolved to regain their footing in the days ahead.
The boys trudged into the dining hall, freshly showered but still weighed down by the fatigue of a restless night. Their spirits dipped even further when they saw the breakfast trays laid out—identical to yesterday's bland offering. The nutrient-packed meals were undoubtedly designed to fuel their bodies for the gruelling days ahead, but their tastelessness felt like an additional punishment.
Seated around the long table, the boys quietly poked at their meals, forcing themselves to eat despite the lack of enthusiasm. The room's atmosphere was heavy, each bite was a reminder of the challenges they had already faced and the gruelling weeks still to come.
As the boys settled into their seats, the girls entered the hall, their lively chatter filling the space with an energy that contrasted starkly with the boys' gloom. The girls looked well-rested, their faces relaxed and free from the dark circles that adorned most of the boys. They greeted each other cheerfully as they took their seats, and their bright demeanour did not go unnoticed.
Joon-ho, sitting near the edge of the table, found himself next to Soo-jin as she took a seat with her tray. He leaned slightly toward her, lowering his voice so their conversation remained private.
"Why are you all so... chipper this morning? Didn't the anticipation of another test keep you awake too?"
Soo-jin paused, a small smile playing on her lips as she placed her tray down.
"We weren't worried about it," she said simply, picking up her utensils.
Joon-ho frowned, lowering his chopsticks.
"Why not?"
Soo-jin sighed, glancing around briefly to ensure their conversation remained between them.
"During our free time last night, we ran into Instructor Min-ji and Instructor Hye-won," she began. "It was late, and we were still soaked from earlier. The two instructors seemed to notice something was off, so they stopped us to talk."
Joon-ho's curiosity deepened as he listened. Soo-jin continued, her voice soft.
"They apologized for the way the morning test was handled. I guess they realized it might've touched a nerve. You boys had buckets of water thrown at you, right? Well, for us…" She hesitated, her smile fading slightly. "They jumped on us. In their suits."
"Jumped?" Joon-ho repeated, blinking in disbelief.
Soo-jin nodded, her expression briefly troubled.
"It was supposed to test our alertness, sure. But some of us… felt like it was something else. The way they pinned us down—it didn't feel like a test. It felt like an attack. Some even said it felt…" She trailed off, her gaze dropping momentarily before she forced a reassuring smile. "Let's just say it wasn't well-received."
Joon-ho swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling over him. He hadn't considered how different the experience might've been for the girls.
Soo-jin continued, her tone lightening a bit.
"Anyway, the instructors realized their mistake and told us it wouldn't happen again. They said they were sorry and made sure we knew we'd have a normal morning. That's why we all slept fine."
Joon-ho leaned back slightly, the pieces falling into place. The girls' relaxed demeanour, the boys' anxious sleeplessness—it all made sense now. He nodded thoughtfully, glancing down at his tray.
"Guess we overthought things," he muttered, more to himself than to Soo-jin.
Soo-jin chuckled softly, giving him a small nudge with her elbow.
"Yeah, you did. But hey, maybe this will teach you boys to stop assuming we're all in the same boat all the time."
Joon-ho smirked faintly, shaking his head as the lively chatter of the girls continued to fill the room, a stark contrast to the boys' silence.
Soo-jin's words lingered with Joon-ho as he stared at his half-eaten breakfast. Around him, the boys remained quiet, their focus shifting between their trays and the occasional glance at the girls, who were now laughing softly among themselves. It was clear that the boys' pride had taken a hit—not from the instructors' test, but from the realization that they had let their imaginations get the better of them.
The girls, meanwhile, had faced their challenge head-on, dealt with it, and moved forward without carrying the same burden of unnecessary dread. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and yet, as Joon-ho watched Soo-jin animatedly talking to Hana across the table, he couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for their resilience.