InkBound
patreon
CH144
🕑 Added 2025-02-03 08:50:01 +0000 UTC“Ah, I feel a cough coming on.”
Jack discreetly excused himself, pretending to head to the restroom.
Devon, clueless about what was going on, simply blinked in confusion.
What was the question again?
Oh, right. Something about why there were so many Ultimate-brand clothes.
“I just really like this brand.”
“Just liking it means you can buy all of it?”
“It’s a bit tricky, I’ll admit.”
“Did you get them through resellers?”
“Some of them, yeah.”
Devon pouted.
“I want to buy them too, but they don’t fit me.”
“What size are you?”
“4XL.”
A size no regular brand would ever carry.
“Just once, they released a big-size collection. I bit the bullet and bought it.”
Ah, it must be that T-shirt I saw last time.
“Why not take this chance to slim down a bit?”
“Wouldn’t it be faster for them to release more big sizes?”
“Fair point.”
Who would’ve thought I’d end up chatting with a teacher about Ultimate-brand clothes?
Half amused, half intrigued, I smiled warmly at the half-eaten pizza in front of me.
***
That night.
Peter and I were checking the bulletin board.
I wanted to post something, but another post caught my eye.
<Student Council President Candidacy Declaration (Julian Burnett)>
Of course, someone who loves being in the spotlight wouldn’t let this chance slide.
And that wasn’t the only post.
Curious, Peter clicked on the post.
<Looking for a talented individual to assist the best president.
The key trait of a vice president, above all else, is unwavering trust in the president.
Respect the leader in any situation and possess a dedicated mindset… (omitted)…
Seek someone who prioritizes challenge, passion, and growth over immediate results… (omitted)… Aims for a family-like relationship.>
Good luck with that.
Julian wasn’t the only one posting—there were quite a few others, though most were casual chatter.
<By the way, who runs this bulletin board?>
<Isn’t it managed by the school?>
<Would the school manage it like this?>
<Then it must be privately run?>
<But how could a private individual manage this?>
Well, back in those days, not everyone was tech-savvy.
It was natural that people couldn’t figure it out.
Anyway.
Peter clicked on the post creation button and turned to me.
“What are you planning to post?”
“I’m recruiting for the rugby team.”
<We’re holding tryouts for first and second years. Anyone interested, please leave a comment.>
The plan was to have a showdown against the upperclassmen.
I wasn’t expecting a huge response, but in less than an hour, there were quite a few comments.
The reason was simple.
<The disciplinary committee hearing was disgusting, lol.>
Still, I couldn’t take these as definitive public opinion.
It was an anonymous bulletin board, so it was important to filter the noise.
“Even so…”
Just hinting that we were preparing for a match against the second years seemed to have had its intended effect.
All I had to do now was wait patiently for the rumors to spread.
***
Two days later.
Maybe it was because of the post on the bulletin board, but during PE class, a surprising number of students volunteered to play rugby.
Thanks to this, we were able to try out various things.
One of those was a match between the first-year A-team and B-team.
I volunteered to join the B-team.
“The A-team will represent us in the real match anyway.”
I wanted to experience our team’s full strength by playing from the other side.
The A-team’s lineup was quite impressive.
For starters, Jack was positioned at the forefront.
In defense, the solid frames of Gary and James held the line.
“You two playing on the same team is cheating.”
“Yeah, split up. Otherwise, it’s not even a game.”
These two had opposed Jack and me being on the same team.
They were so competitive that they even argued about balance in friendly games.
Their skills were undeniable—they were among the best in the first year when it came to physicality, defense, and overall game sense.
In contrast, our team was… well…
“There’s a reason we’re the B-team, right?”
Still, we had Leo, a quick and agile player, which was a bit of a saving grace.
Anyway.
“We’ve trained hard until now.”
It was time to put what we’d learned to use.
Tweet!
And so began a one-sided match.
We had the first possession.
Without any feeling-out phase, the opposing team launched an aggressive press.
Among them…
BAM-BAM-BAM!
When Jack charged in full force—
“Ugh!”
Our team, flustered, repeatedly passed the ball backward in panic.
In rugby, there’s no forward pass, so every backward pass reduced our options.
“Arghhh!”
When Jack charged again, flustered, my teammates kept passing the ball back further and further.
By the time there was nowhere left to retreat—
“Here!”
Leo called out.
Swish!
One teammate desperately passed the ball to the left.
It was our last line of defense.
Now, it was do or die—we had to push forward.
BAM-BAM-BAM!
Leo sprinted out of Jack’s range with all his might.
But it was as if the opponents had anticipated his move.
They began closing in on him in double and triple layers.
Amidst the chaos—
Glance.
Leo first checked my position.
Had he noticed Jack drifting toward me?
Leo decided to buy some time.
Whoosh.
Pretending to turn his body to the right as if to pass—
Snap!
He dashed left instead.
Of course, the opponents weren’t going to let that slide.
Some were momentarily thrown off, but others had already launched tackles in Leo’s direction.
Leo’s quick feet allowed him to evade the first tackle.
Thud!
But he couldn’t avoid the one flying at him from the opposite side.
Just when it seemed like he was about to crumble—
Swish.
Even as he fell, Leo managed to fling the ball toward me.
It wasn’t a clean pass—his posture had completely collapsed by then.
Expecting pinpoint accuracy would’ve been too much.
I sprinted with all I had toward the slightly long ball.
My competition was Jack.
Jack might have had the upper hand in explosive power—
BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM!
But once I hit my top speed, I wasn’t going to be outdone.
It wasn’t just speed that mattered, though.
CRASH!
There was also the inevitable physical clash.
Our shoulders slammed into each other with force.
“Phew!”
Fortunately, I was the first to recover my balance.
Tap.
I barely managed to grab the ball.
But it wasn’t over yet.
Jack, regaining his stance, launched a ferocious tackle toward me.
At such a close distance—
There’s no way to dodge.
I had to endure it somehow.
Damn it.
Could I fend off Jack with only my left hand while holding the ball in my right?
What choice did I have?
Thud!
Jack’s tackle struck my lower body with brutal force.
Crunch.
I resisted the momentum, pressing down on Jack’s shoulder to stop myself from being flung upward.
At the same time, I leaned backward, stubbornly creating distance between us.
As Jack lunged with another tackle—
Grip!
I pressed my shoulder against him again, feigning as if I was bracing for another clash.
Swish.
In reality, I twisted my body and deflected Jack’s shoulder entirely.
Thud!
“This is it.”
The moment I confirmed Jack had fallen,
Whoosh!
I bolted toward the opponent’s territory with everything I had.
Perhaps they hadn’t imagined Jack would go down.
“…!”
The shock on their faces was almost palpable.
“Hold your positions!”
Gary barked orders from the backline, but it was too late.
Chaos erupted as the defense scrambled in my direction.
Even if they had held their ground and fought me head-on, it might have been a tough call.
But challenging me to a speed battle instead?
The outcome was obvious.
Dash-dash-dash!
I tore through the field, reaching the far end of their territory all on my own.
Now, only Gary and James remained—the last line of defense.
It wouldn’t have been hard to curve wide and sprint straight for the goalpost.
But.
“In war, close combat is slow but the most decisive way to advance.”
Remembering my coach’s advice,
Whoosh!
I deliberately charged straight toward Gary and James.
Despite the open field, I chose to force my way between the two of them.
Perhaps feeling insulted—
“What, you think we’ll lose in a physical clash?”
“Alright, bring it on!”
The two of them fired up, bracing themselves as if building a fortress wall.
They held their ground, prepared for the impact.
But—
Thud!
The moment my shoulder slammed into them with full force—
Wobble.
Both of them lost their balance, almost in unison.
And before they could recover—
Crash! BOOM!
I hurled myself forward again with all my might.
Thud!
They collapsed entirely, landing on the ground with a heavy thud, both falling on their backsides.
It worked.
From Jack to the last line of defense, I had broken through them all.
As I reached the goal line, I turned around slowly to take in the aftermath.
“Huff… huff…”
The defenders who had tried to stop me lay sprawled across the ground, stunned and breathless.
In contrast—
“Woohoo!”
Leo and the rest of my team erupted in cheers, celebrating with joy.
I clicked my tongue softly.
Though I felt some pride in executing the play just as Devon had taught me, I couldn’t be entirely happy.
“The fact that their lineup couldn’t fully stop a rookie like me just getting into rugby…”
It left a bitter aftertaste.
At this rate, how could we even think about stopping someone like Carl Bernstein, let alone a decent vice-captain?
Dramatically improving individual skills in the remaining time wasn’t realistic.
But it wasn’t entirely hopeless either.
“Wait! Don’t rush forward—stay until the end! Now! What are you doing? I said now!”
When Devon commanded the defensive line, it felt like we were a completely different team.
“This just proves we need a defensive leader.”
As someone’s face came to mind, I instinctively turned to glance at one corner of the field.
***
Tennessee Grosvenor was watching Park Ji-hoon from a distance.
What was taking him so long? He said he wanted to invest—so why hasn’t he said anything yet?
He’d made it sound like he’d give an answer later, but there hadn’t been a word since!
“Did he… forget?”
They crossed paths almost daily, exchanging brief smiles.
It didn’t seem like he’d completely forgotten, but still…
“……”
Some might wonder: If you’re so curious, why don’t you just ask him yourself?
“Not a chance.”
What if he came across as someone desperate or impatient? How could he possibly handle that humiliation?
Sigh.
While Tennessee was stewing in frustration, Park Ji-hoon roamed the field with an utterly carefree expression.
“What’s so fun about that?”
Tennessee had played rugby for quite some time.
For aristocrats, rugby was practically unavoidable.
To prove their superiority—both mentally and physically—many nobles threw themselves into the sport with fervor.
Tennessee had been dragged onto the field countless times by his tutor.
Eventually, he ended up becoming a player.
Was it thanks to his natural athletic talent?
Tennessee rose to become one of the most promising athletes in his region.
But that was as far as it went.
Not once had he ever stepped onto the field because he enjoyed it.
Every time he headed to the grounds, he’d hear the same words:
“Go and prove just how extraordinary you are, young master.”
How his tutor could repeat the same phrase without a single variation was beyond him.
There were even times when that voice buzzed incessantly in his ears during games.
Perhaps it was the memory of those unwelcome experiences.
A bitter smile spread across Tennessee’s lips.
“Why am I even thinking about rugby now?”
With a look of disdain, he quickly averted his eyes, as if even glancing at the game was unbearable.
