Chapter Text
“What are you doing here?” Jungkook blurts out first thing in the morning, on a Monday.
It’s not just any Monday, though. In fact, it’s the very Monday he’s supposed to start his brand new job as a high school P.E. teacher, back in his alma mater. In hindsight, Jungkook believes he shouldn’t have been that surprised. He knows how shitty his luck is—it has sort of become his brand.
Of course he couldn’t rid himself of fucking Kim Namjoon. Not permanently, at least.
The fact that he looks even better than the last time Jungkook saw him is the final insult. Nobody has any business looking that hot in simple, round wire-rimmed glasses and a buzzcut. Those two things sound like a contradiction—but not on Kim Namjoon.
“I… work here?” Kim Namjoon says, eyebrows crinkling up. He’s blinking at Jungkook, puzzled. As if he doesn’t quite understand why Jungkook is so shocked about seeing him. Jungkook seethes, inwardly. Namjoon flashes him a stupidly warm, polite smile, the barest hint of dimples appearing in his equally stupid face. (Jungkook’s heart definitely does not skip a beat.) “It’s been a while, Jungkook-ssi.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook manages to say—not forcing his voice through gritted teeth or anything. He successfully bites down a childish, petty remark, like Oh, so you remember me now. Which is points in his book. Yay. “It has.” He bows, a bit belatedly. “I look forward to working with you from now on. Please take care of me, sunbaenim.”
His parents would be proud. Such a polite son they’ve raised.
“You too, Jungkook-ssi. I’m happy you’re working here. I’m sure you’ll be a great addition to the school,” Namjoon replies, bowing back. Him being so nice to him rubs Jungkook the wrong way, setting him a little on edge. He can’t help but think Namjoon’s words insincere. Why would he be happy about Jungkook being there? He doesn’t even like him.
But, despite his shock and all the unpleasant thoughts Namjoon’s presence made spring into his mind, Jungkook is glad that Namjoon doesn’t ask why he’s working there, at their old school, and not… somewhere else. Jungkook doesn’t really know how to broach the topic. But it’s not like they have much time to make small talk.
As he straightens up, Jungkook catches the vice principal signaling for him to come over. Jungkook excuses himself quietly and definitely does not walk away faster than he normally would.
He’s not running from Kim Namjoon.
He just wants him as far from him as possible, so that he doesn’t have to look at him and think about all his past embarrassments. They still sting.
The thing about Jungkook’s life is that nothing really goes the way he wants it to.
He starts his job alright, meeting his new fellow teachers—or, rather, his old teachers, since most of the staff has remained the same since he graduated six years ago. His former P.E. teacher retired, obviously, since he was the one who contacted him about the job in the first place. His third year homeroom teacher is now the principal, surprisingly. His favorite teacher, though, is currently on maternity leave. A handful other teachers have also retired, or left.
Kim Namjoon is the English Literature teacher, replacing the now-principal. Really, that’s just Jungkook’s luck. He was certain he wouldn’t be seeing Namjoon ever again after his first year of university. Clearly, the Universe loves proving him wrong.
At least he managed to avoid talking to him the entire day. He just has to keep it up. Five days a week, for who knows how many years—until he retires, probably. Yay.
“Jungkook-ssi,” the Principal calls out to him during lunch break. Jungkook finds himself in the Principal’s Office, trying very hard not to feel like he got in trouble and he’s getting lectured for it. “How are you settling in?” he asks, eyes crinkling up in a smile. He’s still wearing the same massive glasses as back in Jungkook’s school years, and the only real difference between then and now is that his hair has turned completely gray.
“Just fine, prof—I mean, Mr. Principal,” Jungkook replies with a smile he hopes is not as awkward as he feels. Being back here still feels strange, especially when he walks down the hallways during class hours. He instinctively feels like he’s doing something wrong, like he’s still a student and cutting classes. Not that Jungkook ever did that when he was actually a student, but still. It’s weird. “It’s nice to be back. Although it does feel strange not to be wearing the school uniform.”
The principal laughs. “Namjoon-ssi said the same thing when he first started.” Jungkook fights back his scowl at the mention of Namjoon’s name. “Speaking of which… You both were in the volleyball club, right?” he asks, in the tone of someone who already knows the answer.
“Yes, but we were never on the same team together. Namjoon-sunbaenim had already graduated when I started high school,” Jungkook replies anyway. Remembering it makes his stomach do something funny, and not exactly pleasant. “Why?”
The Principal sighs. “Well, you see… this year, the Girls’ Volleyball Club has no advisor, since Professor Shin resigned. I was wondering if you’d like to take on the position.”
Jungkook blinks. He’s not sure he heard right. Him, a club advisor? Him, a coach?
“I… don’t know if I’m qualified for that, sir,” he says, grabbing his knees so that he doesn’t start fiddling with his thumbs. He studied Physical Education and Sports Science in college, yes, but he has absolutely no experience coaching.
The Principal waves a hand. “Nonsense. You’re the best player this school ever had. You’re a legend to your juniors even to this day.”
Yeah, but being a good player doesn’t mean being a good coach. Jungkook chooses not to say that. It’s clear the Principal has made up his mind. He’ll keep hounding him until he agrees, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to be hounded.
“I guess,” he replies instead, shrugging awkwardly. “If you’re certain, then… I think I can give it a try?”
The Principal claps, once. “Wonderful! You can meet them today after school hours. They train in Gym 5. I’ll see you there.”
Gym 5. Back when Jungkook was still a student, there were four gyms for the high school section of the Academy, three for middle school. He knows which one is Gym 5, though: it’s the biggest of the five, situated on the edge of campus, on a lot that was not part of the Academy before. They must’ve bought the land to expand the school grounds sometime after Jungkook graduated.
Sometimes, Jungkook forgets he attended a really… elite school. His family has always been working class, even after his dad’s promotion and transfer to Seoul, which came with a higher salary. The move came with a higher living cost, after all. He was a scholarship student as well—a sports scholarship.
“I’ve wasted enough of your time already, Jungkook-ssi,” the Principal says at last. “You’re free to go.”
The lunch break is almost over. Jungkook nods and stands up, bows to the Principal, and leaves. Only when the door to the Principal’s Office closes behind him does his brain process everything that happened.
What did he just agree to?
Jungkook isn’t just unlucky. He’s also—sometimes—a bit too dumb.
At least, he feels like it. Agreeing to coach a team with zero previous coaching experience? What was he even thinking? There’s no way he can do that.
“Hyung, there’s no way I can do that,” Jungkook whines into the phone. He’s hiding behind the high school building after his last scheduled class of the day, panicking. “I don’t know why I said yes. I don’t even know women’s volleyball that well! What was I thinking.”
Taehyung lets out a long, tortured sigh on the other end of the line. “Jungkook,” he says, and Jungkook stops his frantic pacing to listen to him. “You do know about women’s volleyball. You bleed pink and purple for the Spiders.”
That, he does. “But I’ve never played women’s volleyball!”
There’s a beat of silence. “I’m not even going to acknowledge what you just said,” Taehyung decides. Which is probably the most grace Jungkook will receive today. He still pouts. “I can hear you pouting,” Taehyung says. Jungkook pouts harder. “You’ll be fine, JK. You’re good at volleyball, and you’re good with kids.”
“Teenagers barely count as kids. They’re demons.”
“It’ll be fine,” Taehyung insists. “You’re a cool adult, and you’re really fucking good at volleyball. Those kids will love you.” Jungkook hears movement on the other end of the line, a bit far away from the phone. “Sorry, JK, I gotta leave you. Jiminie says to call if you’re dying.”
“Why am I friends with you,” Jungkook sighs, sinking down into a crouch.
“Because you love us,” Jimin sing-songs. “Go kick some ass, Coach!”
And then the call ends.
Jungkook checks the time. It’s 4:45PM already, which means he should be heading to Gym 5 soon. Not much has changed schedule-wise at the Academy, so classes wrap up at 4:30PM and clubs usually start their activities by 5PM. He straightens up, brushing dust off his pants and neatening his clothes. The upside of being a P.E. teacher, Jungkook thinks, is being able to wear tracksuits for work—and he has a ton of them. The one he’s wearing right now is black and beige, perhaps a bit too baggy, but Jungkook loves oversized clothes.
He gives himself an extra minute for a mental pep talk before heading to Gym 5, ready for whatever the meeting with his new team may bring.
Turns out, Jungkook wasn’t really ready for anything.
As he approaches the building, he swears he starts sweating even thought it’s the beginning of March and the weather in Seoul is rather chilly. He struggles to think of the last time he felt so nervous. Rationally, he knows it should be fine, but Jungkook can hardly think of something scarier than a group of teenage girls.
The Principal is already waiting by the doors leading into the gym, so Jungkook picks up the pace.
“Have you been in this one yet?” the Principal asks. Jungkook shakes his head. “It was finished three years ago—exclusively for the high school volleyball clubs.”
Jungkook whistles, eyebrows rising on their own accord. “That’s a huge investment,” he comments. Just the outside of the building screams fancy, and it’s so modern and polished that Jungkook would believe it if someone told him it was actually a brand new KVA facility.
“The school board was very inspired by your achievements after you graduated,” the Principal tells him, softly. It’s the kind of tone that gets under Jungkook’s skin the most—the tentative gentleness, as if he’d shatter if spoken to in the wrong way, as if he couldn’t bear hearing about what happened to him. It bothers him because, sometimes, he thinks they may be right.
“A bit poetic that now I’m here to coach future generations, don’t you think?” Jungkook says, willing himself to smile. He desperately wants to change the topic of the conversation, so he motions towards the doors and asks, “Shall we go in?”
Jungkook is immediately assaulted by the smell of polished hardwood floors and rubber. No sweat, luckily, since it’s still too early for actual physical activity to be taking place. Then he properly takes in the space.
His first thought is: massive. There is space for four full-sized courts, the lines of which are neatly painted on the light hardwood floors. Jungkook counts four changing rooms and two bathrooms, and other unlabeled doors that probably lead to the equipment storage room and the janitor’s closet. There are actual stands on the second floor—five rows only, but still. Jungkook has played official matches in places with worse amenities.
The walls are painted white and blue—the specific shade of light blue that is part of the Academy’s emblem. And its uniforms. And every piece of institutional paraphernalia they can reasonably demand be blue.
One quarter of the gymnasium is sectioned off, divided from the other three courts by a white safety net. That is, perhaps, when Jungkook’s bad feeling should have started.
It didn’t.
He sees a group standing in a circle, over there. Simply hanging around, talking to each other, exchanging greetings and anecdotes, perhaps. They are, presumably, the members of the girls’ volleyball club. Or so Jungkook assumes, since they are high school girls, and wearing light blue-and-white tracksuits. He’s always been rather proud of his deductive skills.
One of them notices Jungkook and the Principal when they start making their way to them, and straightens up. She’s tall but with a slight build, and not the tallest member of the team. She is, however, the one all the others pay attention to, reflexively fixing their postures before following her line of sight.
“Mr. Principal, sir,” the girl says, with a strong, clear voice that almost doesn’t match her appearance. “Good afternoon.” She bows, and all the other girls follow her lead. Her eyes—dark and sharp—go to Jungkook next, and she blinks, clearly confused but politely trying not to show it. Considering Jungkook has not seen this girl before, she’s either not in any of the classes Jungkook taught today, or not a first year at all. The second seems more likely.
“Professor Jeon?” another girl asks. This one, Jungkook does remember, by appearance if not by name. She’s also tall, although not as tall as the first girl, and with an athletic, lean build. Quick reflexes, good stamina and flexibility, Jungkook recalls.
Jungkook gives her a wave and a smile, and the all the girls break out in excited whispers. He represses a fearful shiver. Gossip. He’s never liked being the topic of it.
“Girls,” the Principal starts, and the group falls silent. Jungkook counts thirteen heads, and wonders if this is the entire team, or if there are a few members missing who are yet to arrive. “I want you to meet Jeon Jungkook, the newest addition to the Physical Education department of the High School section. He’s also an alumnus, and was part of the volleyball team back in his years at the Academy. At my request, he has kindly agreed to coach the Girls’ Volleyball Team this year and become the club’s Head Advisor. I trust you will greatly benefit from his guidance.”
Jungkook bows. “This is my first time coaching a team, so I’ll be in your care.”
The silence that follows is stunned. Until the first girl, who is clearly the captain, snaps out of her shock and clears her throat. “Please take care of us, Coach Jeon,” she says as she bows back, and her team echoes the statement.
The Principal hums in approval. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then?”
“Ah. Yes, sir. I’ve got this from here,” Jungkook replies. He then turns back to his new team, praying that teenage girls aren’t like bloodhounds and cannot smell the fear welling up inside of him. He was never quite sure that it wasn’t the case. The girls stare back at him, most with undisguised interest and wide eyes, some with suspicion, and some with consummately blank expressions. “Um. Is this… the entire team?”
The captain nods. Thirteen people. Rather small, as clubs go. They’d barely have enough players to fill the bench.
“Should we have an introduction round—” Jungkook’s question gets drowned by loud cheering coming from the other end of the gym. A chorus of distinctly male voices. He turns to the source of the sound, and catches the irate frown in the captain’s face as she does the same. Uh, oh. That doesn’t seem good.
There’s a group of boys there, at least three times bigger than the entirety of the girls’ team, Jungkook included. They’re also dressed in tracksuits, solid blue in their case, crowding around a ball cart. One of them picks up a ball, making a show of bouncing it on the floor, and his teammates start chanting… something. It’s not very coordinated.
The boy tosses the ball high up in the air, and Jungkook understands what he’s about to do right that second. He fights his own scowl, to match his team’s. He’s the adult here. The boy spikes the ball towards their court, and, privately, Jungkook judges the hell out of his form. It’s not proper jump serve form—the toss is skewed, the jump too low, and the ball barely stays on course, veering to one side instead of shooting through the air straight as an arrow. It’s hardly even a good spiking form.
It hits their safety net right in front of Jungkook’s face, and he feels the way most of the girls, still standing a fair distance away from him, flinch back, startled. The ball drops to the floor, somehow managing to roll into their side of the net, since the bottom part of it is a little loose.
It bumps against the tip of Jungkook’s sneakers, and he stares down at it.
The captain lets out a breath so controlled Jungkook can’t help but admire her self-restraint, as she manages not to growl her next words, “I told them to stop spiking our way, and he can’t even claim it was an accident this time around—”
“Does this happen often?” Jungkook asks, picking the ball up. It’s a Mikasa ball in white, blue, and red. The weight and shape of it feel familiar in his hands.
“Only every other day,” a different girl mutters, glaring murder at the boys, who are now laughing and taking turns pushing each other in their direction. She’s by far the tallest of the bunch, taller than even Jungkook—although he’s not that tall, for volleyball players standards. If he had to guess, he’d say she’s a bit over 180cm.
“What do we do with the ball?” asks Jungkook’s student. He makes an effort to remember her name—it was something with Chae, he’s certain. Eunchae? Chaewon, perhaps? Chaeyoung, his brain helpfully supplies at last. Moon Chaeyoung, First Year, Class 3.
The look on the tall girl’s face tells Jungkook she has thought of many creative things to do with the ball, no doubt, but he does have to maintain at least a semblance of civility. As, you know, the responsible adult here.
“They can come look for it when they need it,” he decides, because he may be an adult but he is also petty. And he can’t stand unprovoked, unwanted teasing. So. Pettiness it is.
The captain looks at him with renewed interest—and a hint of respect—in her eyes. “I agree. It does not seem they have much use for it, right now.”
Jungkook nods. “So, how about those introductions?”
“I’m Lee Eunji, Third Year, Class 6. I play setter. I’m also the captain,” she says, bowing her head. “Please excuse our manners, Coach. It’s been… a while since we had a proper coach, and we’ve grown used to being by ourselves.”
“A proper coach?” Jungkook asks.
“Our previous advisor was not… familiar with volleyball, sir.” She puts it delicately, but Jungkook can’t help but frown. The girls’ team he remembers from his high school year was good—they consistently ranked in the top four in the Seoul Metropolitan Area. He remembers their coach, who was once part of the Women’s National Team herself. He also remembers she wasn’t exactly young then, less so now, and she’s already retired. But still—to not even bother looking for someone qualified to take her place…
“I’m guessing…” Jungkook starts, hesitating to just state the facts plainly. But it’s so obvious. Jungkook did keep up with male High School competitions, after graduating himself. The boys’ team has been doing quite alright, even if they haven’t been able to replicate the results of Jungkook’s tenure. It appears the girls’ team didn’t share the same luck. “The Academy doesn’t much care for this club, does it?”
The tall girl smiles grimly. She has a very expressive face, Jungkook notes. “We haven’t gone past quarter finals in any championship in over three years. Last year we barely qualified. They don’t really like us.” And a very bold personality, uncaring of, ah, proper forms of address. Jungkook doesn’t really mind it, though.
“That’s hardly your fault alone,” Jungkook says. “What happened to the coach after Kang Yeeun? Professor Shin, was it?”
“So that’s her name?” the girl replies, raising both eyebrows. It’s a sarcastic reply, yet it tells Jungkook everything he needs to know. “Oh, I’m Im Sohee, Coach. Third Year, Class 2. I'm a middle blocker.” She gives him a short, belated bow. “I’ll be in your care from now on. I hope you’ll be around enough for me to remember your name.”
Jungkook smiles. “That’s my plan.”
Which is approximately the point in which everything starts going sideways.
The gym door opens again, rattling noisily and catching Jungkook’s attention. He starts turning towards the sound, just as the person stumbling inside calls out, “Sorry I’m late! I had a matter to tend to after class.”
Jungkook freezes. He recognizes that voice—and, sure enough, Kim Namjoon finishes making his fashionably late entrance and looks up at the boys’ team, who have subdued significantly upon hearing his voice.
“Coach!” one of the boys exclaims. “You can’t miss the first training of the year. We were about to start without you!”
No. Nonononono—
“You have to be kidding me,” Jungkook blurts out.
“Jungkook?”
Why can’t he escape Kim Namjoon?