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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Post-Meal Drowsiness Persists
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Even though I was younger now, that post-meal drowsiness hadn't gone anywhere.
I'd stuffed myself full at lunch and slumped over my desk, lost in a daze.
Sure, my stamina had improved, so maybe it wasn't all bad. But turning seventeen had ramped up my appetite, and I felt wiped out from eating even more.
'It's only been two days, but this school really feels different coming back. I didn't notice it back then.'
Still leaning on my desk, I gazed down at the sports field.
Students kicking a ball around in nothing but their shirts, running outdoors, laughing and chatting without a hint of fatigue—they caught my eye.
School, uniforms...
The fresh-faced kids at that age looked good no matter what they did, and their chatter was making me delightfully sleepy.
"They're cute, those kids."
Watching the young, healthy bunch chatter and move nonstop, the words just slipped out.
That's when Woo-sik's face suddenly popped into view.
Whoa, that startled me.
I'd forgotten.
The one guy in this school who never got tired was right here too.
"Who's so cute?"
Woo-sik's eyes sparkled as he glanced toward the window I'd been staring out.
Without thinking, I shot him a deadpan look.
"What's with that face?"
"Man, you're the same as ever."
Fame aside, everyone else was too busy scraping by to keep in touch—it was hard just to hear news about them.
Even the ones I remembered now were only from news or articles; I hadn't stayed in contact with anyone.
Seeing kids I hadn't known what became of after graduation—it hit different this time around.
But having been here once before, it didn't feel all that foreign.
Was this a good thing?
Even I hadn't expected to adjust this quickly.
Humans really are creatures of adaptation, huh.
Just then, grumbling voices drifted in from the hallway.
"Ugh, I hate this."
"Why not just practice singing instead during that time."
Wondering what that was about, I turned and spotted the timetable.
Next period: PE.
Right, I'd thought the same back in the day.
I started to get up to head to the field, but Woo-sik grabbed my arm.
"What're you doing?"
"Going to PE class, what else?"
Woo-sik's expression turned weird.
What? Did I say something dumb again?
I was about to get serious too when—
"You're just gonna go like that?"
"Well..."
"Aren't you changing into your gym clothes?"
Oh, right. Gym clothes. Those existed.
Woo-sik shook his head as he walked off, while I clapped like I'd had some grand epiphany.
Thought I'd adapted, but apparently not yet.
***
"One kid's at the nurse, so everyone else is here, right?"
I glanced around—Lee Cheong-ha was missing.
I'd heard occasional coughs from her in class since the vocal test, but skipping PE altogether?
No, that wasn't it. Definitely...
"First day, so I'll take roll. Answer quick since I'm calling fast!"
"Yes, sir."
The PE teacher called roll at rap speed, like it was some freestyle battle.
It'd only been two days since enrollment, but he seemed to have memorized every name already.
Behind the smug teacher, the kids already looked exhausted.
We'd barely done roll call, and they were drained.
"You all have one big misconception about getting into this arts high school. You think PE class is pointless."
The PE teacher boomed it out like a dramatic King Kong.
He'd always talked that loud back then too—I thought I'd go deaf.
"To do art, you need stamina as your foundation. Not just art—stamina's basic for anything. Nothing screams pro more than managing your stamina and condition. Condition starts with stamina. You there!!"
I'd been lost in memories, staring blankly at the field, and now he'd zeroed in on me.
I turned, and there he was, glaring right at me.
"What'd I just say?"
I hadn't heard, but I could guess.
His speeches always followed the same script.
"A healthy body houses a healthy spirit."
He flinched a bit at my answer, then turned away.
One corner of his mouth was definitely twitching up.
"Ahem. Right. A healthy body houses a healthy spirit. Keep that in mind always."
No teacher hates a student who nails their garbled lines perfectly.
***
Don't rush from the bottom up—too much tension's bad, too loose is worse.
I frowned, carefully tying my shoelaces, when Woo-sik's incredulous voice came from above.
"You training for a marathon or what?"
At the starting line, every student stared at the PE teacher with bored expressions.
"No whining that stamina tests don't count for grades—give it your all! If someone's struggling to keep up, I'll run with 'em."
Ready. Set.
At his command, the students took off at a half-hearted jog, barely faster than a brisk walk.
At seventeen, none of us had the pure drive to pour effort into stamina tests.
But amid the zombie horde, one guy shot ahead.
'You guys won't get it. How precious this time is. Get out in the field someday. No one gives you free stamina-building hours. You'll hit thirty, regret it. "Man, I should've built stamina back then..."'
Memories of downing fever meds to drop 39-degree heat, dragging my wrecked body onstage anyway.
Pushing a voice that wouldn't cooperate no matter what, straining to sing.
When that moment hits later in life, you'll definitely look back on this and regret it.
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
My unexpected sprint left the class wide-eyed and flustered.
Some started picking up the pace without realizing it.
"...Lee Do-hyun?"
"No way I'm losing."
Kim Sun-woo upped his pace wordlessly.
Moon Woo-hyuk gritted his teeth and pumped his legs.
Song Ha-na scoffed and leaned forward.
Vocal and acting tests.
One guy acing both fields shows fire, and it sparked rivalry in the trio.
When a top dog runs like that, there's a reason.
The Cheongyeom Arts High freshmen, caught up in the sudden competition, outran any other newbies and nailed the long-distance run.
'A kid with real spirit finally showed up.'
The PE teacher's pleased gaze settled on one spot.
***
Man, the practice rooms are still the best.
I wandered around the room, killing time waiting for Lee Cheong-ha.
Seeing the spots where I'd practiced like mad alone or with Ji-woong—it almost brought tears.
Never dreamed I'd come back here.
I idly lifted the piano lid, peeked at the courtyard through the window.
A time when worries about the future didn't exist, pure focus on practice.
A place I could only return to in sweet dreams—and here I was.
"Sorry! Did I keep you waiting long?"
It was evening, classes done. I was in a private practice room waiting for Lee Cheong-ha.
She stood at the door, panting like she'd run here.
"Hey."
"Hey."
She gave an awkward smile and greeted me back.
Today was our first one-on-one.
After duet partners were assigned, I'd been swamped sorting dorm stuff and prepping constant assignments.
For first-years, private rooms needed advance booking.
Knowing how tight it was, I'd reserved for Monday ahead of time.
Second-years got assigned rooms, but first-years? Not enough rooms for all of us.
First-years had constant assignments too, so fewer sought them out than upperclassmen.
Still, with less practice time overall, bookings for first-years were brutal.
"You feeling better?"
She must've heard, but she pretended not to, scanning the room instead.
That confirmed it.
Yeah, not a cold.
"Wow... this practice room's amazing! They say first-years have a hard time snagging one—you're something else."
I chuckled at her obvious topic dodge.
It wasn't annoying; it was kinda pitiful.
"I didn't hear you sing at the test, so mind if I hear it first?"
No more circling—I went straight for it.
Her smile faltered for a second.
"Ah, sorry. I'm still not feeling great."
She smiled like she really meant it.
Might fool someone else, but not me.
I'd chosen her as my partner myself; we needed to ace the duet test.
I stepped close and pressed a hand to her forehead.
"Yeah? No fever, though."
She startled and stepped back, face flushing as she rolled her eyes for excuses.
"Ahaha. Still got some cold symptoms left. Kinda chilly too..."
Perfect opening—I pulled the prepared Kwandong pear juice from my pocket and handed it over.
"What's this?"
"Drink it. Best thing for a cold."
As a kid, I had no clue how good it was.
Mom nagged me to drink it, but I'd dodge and refuse.
Years later, tried it on a whim—symptoms gone like magic next day.
Nothing beat it for body aches.
"Th-thanks. I'll drink it good."
She took the bottle and chugged it down.
No way she could refuse now.
She finished the whole thing despite not being sick, then sneaked a peek at me.
'Lee Cheong-ha. Great actress.'
Lying that hard? Yeah, that pre-regression interview was true.
No connection with her in high school.
Later, saw her star interview floating around: she had stage fright.
Huge hurdle overcoming it, she said.
One bit stuck: back in her first arts high days, stage fright was so bad she'd fake sick and skip tests.
That's why I picked her.
Knowing her issue, all the signs clicked.
Voice fading in the vocal test.
Throat finally cracking into coughs.
Homeroom teacher Huh Ji-woong calling it early.
But no plans to call out her lie right away.
If some near-stranger exposed her carefully hidden secret?
Just breed resentment.
Her talent? Obvious without checking.
I knew she'd be Broadway's youngest actress.
No way second-time-around me had better ears than Broadway pros.
"How's it taste? Good?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
She beamed at the unexpected pear juice.
Part of coming here was connections. Might as well be remembered as the benefactor of Broadway's queen.
But no rushing.
No forcing her to sing in crowds to "fix" stage fright—that old-school crap.
Past life taught me it'd just backfire.
So, how to handle this?
I smiled back at her clutching the empty bottle, pondering.