Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 5

It happened in the first week of May, right after the second-year midterms ended. Something unexpected shook up the usual rankings that always ended the same way — a constant tug-of-war between some guy in Class 7 and a girl in Class 4.

“Is he insane or something? This has to be rigged.”

Voices full of disbelief were already echoing through the hall.

“How does someone have that face, that height, that personality, and still be good at studying? If a character like that showed up in a webtoon, people would drag the author.”

Of course, my seat had to be by the window. I could hear every word from the girls groaning dramatically just outside.

I glanced over — Cha Seokyung was standing under the basketball hoop. The ball he’d just tossed slipped cleanly through the net.

I’d heard so many girls fawn over him that my ears practically itched by now, but I had to admit, this time even I was impressed. How is that even possible?

They said he got a perfect score in every subject. And in our school, math is brutal — no one’s gotten a perfect score in the past two years.

With “Top of the Class” added to Cha Seokyung’s growing list of titles, he was now basically a myth. The looks, the brains, the athleticism…

Part of me wanted to resist the hype, but honestly? I couldn’t.

The way he moved across the court, bouncing the ball with ease — it wasn’t even fair to compare him to other guys our age. He looked that good.

I believe everyone has their own kind of beauty, but it’s honestly hard to find that in guys my age.

But Cha Seokyung? It wasn’t hard with him. He had a vibe — his own unique atmosphere. How do I put it… it was almost pure.

It sounds weird to describe a guy like that, but there’s no better word for it.

His skin was so clear, and his features so delicate, that it just made sense. At the same time, his build and the line of his shoulders screamed testosterone. Masculine, in every sense.

I found myself resting my chin on my hand, just watching him.

How tall was he?

He’d looked tall from far away, but up close, I was sure he was over 187 or 188 cm. I wasn’t short myself, but I had to crane my neck to look up at him — maybe he was even 190 cm.

I didn’t know if he was kind or gentle, but he’d followed up about that girl who might’ve been in danger, and he never acted flashy. He had this calm, quiet demeanor — that alone scored high marks.

“He probably comes from money.”

“Right? He looks like a young master from a drama.”

Yeah… that too made sense.

That clean, refreshing aura of his came not only from his clear skin but also from how he dressed.

Sure, it was the same uniform we all wore, but his shirt always looked freshly ironed, crisp, and clean — like he washed it every day. Definitely not like the other guys, who wore the same one for three or four days straight.

His sneakers and backpack were always spotless too — every single thing he wore or used was clearly high-end. But it didn’t feel like he was bragging. It was more like… if one pair got wet or dirty, he just had another set to use.

Who even is he, really?

No one knew what he was like before he transferred, where he lived, or what cram school he went to.

What does Cha Seokyung do when he goes home?

What does he do when he’s alone?

What kind of things does he talk about with his friends?

Does he like talking about girls like the other guys?

How does he act when he likes someone?

That’s where I stopped and suddenly flinched. I hadn’t felt this curious about someone — especially a guy — since middle school.

It felt weird.

“….”

Maybe he felt my gaze. Cha Seokyung turned in my direction. Our eyes might’ve met — I wasn’t sure. But this time, I didn’t flinch or look away.

For a moment, I just looked at him.

Like we were in a staring contest. But in the end, I was the one who looked away first.

The last class of the day was P.E.

I slowly changed into my gym clothes and dragged my feet to the field.

Our P.E. teacher had been on medical leave, and now it was official — he was taking a break for health reasons. So for the time being, our class was merging with Class 2 for gym.

The girls in my class were thrilled, of course, because Cha Seokyung was in that class. But the problem was… Kim Eunho was in that class too.

About 60 kids packed the field that late afternoon.

“Alright, find a partner and start practicing. Count how many times you can keep the shuttlecock going without it hitting the ground. I’m gonna use it for your practical scores, so don’t slack off, got it?”

As always, the teacher tossed out instructions and headed off to rest in the shade.

Teacher, aren’t you supposed to be my partner forever? You’re not even pretending anymore. I awkwardly raised my hand.

“Sir, me.”

“Oh, right. Ji Yeonseo.”

He looked at me like he’d just remembered. Then, after a short pause, he began to hum in a sing-song voice.

“Class 1’s got 29 students, so they’re out… Hey, Class 2 rep — doesn’t your class have 31? Who’s the extra? Anyone without a partner?”

Kids milling around to find their partners turned to look. Even after going through this a few times, standing by the teacher while everyone stared was still awkward.

And that’s when I met eyes with Kim Eunho.

Don’t even think about it. I glared. But he winked back like he was delighted to be my savior and took a step forward.

“I don’t have a partner.”

A calm, clear voice came from the back. Someone taller than all the other guys raised his hand like he was worried no one could see him.

“I’ll do it.”

Cha Seokyung hesitated a second after speaking, then walked up and handed me a badminton racket.

As I took it from him, his expression looked like he already regretted volunteering. I bit my lower lip for no reason and clutched the racket tightly.

We stood face-to-face, finding a spot among the scattered students hitting shuttlecocks across the field.

For some reason, Lee Hojung and a few other girls came to stand near us — despite the field being huge.

Trying not to let that distract me, I lightly tapped the shuttlecock toward him.

“…Let me try that again.”

Too light. The shuttlecock dropped pathetically at his feet.

I tried again — same result.

“Wanna serve first?” I offered, pretending to be generous.

He accepted, adjusted his stance, and served. His navy gym shirt hugged his shoulders cleanly, and the light movement showed the tendons in his forearm as he hit the shuttlecock.

I was staring before I even realized it. I quickly lunged back, chasing after the shuttlecock.

“Ugh—whoa!”

Despite all the effort, I missed completely. The shuttlecock landed exactly where it wanted, ignoring my dive.

“…Sorry.”

It didn’t get much better after that. We hit it back and forth so few times that calling it a rally felt embarrassing. I never thought of myself as clumsy, but now I felt like dead weight. Even when I played with the teacher, it hadn’t been this bad.

I looked at Cha Seokyung awkwardly. I’d already apologized nearly every other serve — I didn’t even have the nerve to say it again.

Honestly, part of me assumed he wouldn’t get mad. He was always so gentle and calm — or at least indifferent.

That he’d just shrug and say “it’s fine.” That it didn’t matter.

“….”

But the moment our eyes met, all those assumptions evaporated.

His brows were drawn together, and there was the faintest hint of irritation in his eyes. Maybe it was because we couldn’t get more than two hits. Or maybe he was worried about messing up his score. Either way, he clearly wasn’t happy.

That’s when it hit me — he was taking this seriously. Of course he was. He’s good at everything.

I opened my mouth to apologize again, but the bell rang.

“Alright, gather up! Put the shuttlecocks in this basket and rackets over there!”

Everyone started sorting the equipment. But the rackets ended up tossed together in a jumbled mess.

“God, you punks do this every time! Is this how you treat your own stuff? Who had the worst rally count today?!”

No one dared rat out Cha Seokyung. The teacher’s eyes scanned the group, but everyone stayed quiet.

“Let’s see… who’s the prettiest pair around here…”

The teacher’s tinted lenses scanned the crowd like he was playing. Finally, he pointed a finger at us.

“You and you! Ji Yeonseo and Cha Seokyung — you two are the cutest. You get to organize this mess and take it to the storage room.”

“Teacher, that’s discrimination!” someone whined.

He just laughed and said, “Then don’t be ugly,” and walked off.

He must’ve seen me totally failing to return Cha Seokyung’s serve.

Seokyung didn’t complain. He quietly started organizing the rackets, ignoring offers to help and moving quickly.

I rushed to do my part, but bumped shoulders hard with Lee Hojung on the way. She gave me a glare and walked off. Kim Eunho and his buddies were snickering nearby, but I ignored them too.

Cha Seokyung neatly stacked the rackets and carried the box in one go toward the storage room.

I grabbed the shuttlecock basket and followed behind him.

As we stepped inside, the musty smell of sand and old gym mats filled the space. Balls, nets, and gym equipment were piled up around us.

Cha Seokyung placed the box down effortlessly.

I set down the basket and spoke cautiously.

“Um… sorry. I’m not really good with sports.”

(Or anything else, honestly — but I didn’t say that part.)

“If you want to switch partners, you can.”

Facing away from me, picking up a stray racket, he said calmly, “Then who would I play with?”

“I could go back to being with the teacher…”

He stood up and turned around. We were suddenly face-to-face, only a step or two apart. I looked up — his dark eyes met mine.

The inside of the storage room felt removed from the noisy field. It was a strange kind of intimacy. My heart beat a little too fast — I’d never let anyone this close, not since family.

I expected him to say, “Alright, let’s do that,” because what else would he say?

Instead, his voice dropped coldly.

“Are you always like this?”

“…What?”

Was he talking about badminton? Or something else?

“Do you always like getting attention like that?”

“…What the hell are you talking about?”

My eyebrows pulled together. My eyes sharpened. He didn’t seem fazed by my expression. He looked serious — like he truly wanted to know.

Unbelievable.

“Hey. Cha Seokyung. Do you know me?”

We weren’t friends. We’d barely spoken a few times. Other than attending the same school, we had nothing personal between us.

What do you even know? Do you know if I’ve ever tried to get attention? Do you know what kind of person I am? What I care about?

Even I barely know myself after two months — who the hell are you to act like you do?

Cha Seokyung didn’t answer. He just slowly scanned my face — my eyes, my nose, my lips. His gaze lingered a beat too long.

Just as I felt my face heat up, he turned without another word and brushed past me.

…Seriously?

I stood there in disbelief, replaying everything that had just happened.

It felt like someone had poured cold water over my head while I was just walking along, minding my business.

And as the anger and frustration bubbled up, all I could do was stand there — too stunned to move.