“…What are you talking about? At least say something that makes sense, Hunter.”
Jiyu rolled her eyes and sighed.
Was it the calluses on his fingers that made her pulse difficult to find, or was it simply his impatience?
Probably the latter. Hunter had never been good at examining anything carefully. Patience had never been one of his virtues either.
Jiyu slapped his hand away and felt for the pulse herself. Though faint, it took her only a moment to locate the steady beat beneath her skin. With a deadpan look, she glanced at Hunter, who now stood with his arms folded, then placed her fingers over the spot and held out her wrist.
“Here.”
Idiot.
She left the final word unspoken.
“Let me see.”
Hunter unfolded his arms, caught her hand, and pulled it toward him. As he bent down, his hair brushed against her forehead. Jiyu leaned her head back and raised her chin to avoid touching him.
The familiar scent of cool pine and crisp lavender drifted from him—the expensive detergent used for his workout clothes, which were washed every day.
A single box of sixty detergent capsules supposedly cost one hundred and twenty dollars.
Hunter gripped her hand roughly and pressed three fingers against the pulse point. Then he gave a sharp scoff.
“Not dead yet.”
After tossing out the teasing remark, he fixed his eyes on the clock mounted on the wall, silently counting under his breath.
Jiyu narrowed her eyes and stole a glance at his profile. Then her gaze dropped to her wrist.
‘When did his hands get so big? Just how much taller is he planning to grow?’
Ever since they were children, his hands and feet had always grown first, followed by a sudden jump in height. Jiyu’s own hands were perfectly average—not especially large or small—but enclosed in Hunter’s, they looked like a child’s.
‘What happened to the back of his hand?’
Unlike before, blue veins now stood out unevenly across it. Because of their “jinx” ritual—during which he solemnly held out his palm before an important match and she gave it a half-hearted kiss—she had never had a chance to examine his hands closely. Those moments barely lasted half a second.
For no apparent reason, unease stirred in her chest. Her palms grew damp and clammy.
Why was one minute taking so long?
“Rate, eighty-one. Pulse weak. Regular.”
At last, Hunter muttered and looked away from the clock. Jiyu immediately raised her head.
“…Weak?”
“It was so faint I could barely feel it, even concentrating as hard as I do when I serve. Check it yourself if you don’t believe me.”
While he wrote the results on the worksheet, Jiyu frowned and touched her wrist again. Now that he had mentioned it, the pulse did seem rather weak.
‘Is something wrong with me? My knee has been aching so badly these past few days that I couldn’t sleep. Maybe that’s why.’
She tilted her head, concentrating on the beat, when Hunter extended his wrist toward her.
“Your turn.”
Jiyu moved the fingers from her own wrist and placed them lightly against his. Fortunately, she found the pulse after only a couple of tries. Her pale fingertips pressed gently against his healthy, tanned skin. The beat beneath them was strong and regular.
“Rate, eighty-three. No, eighty-four. Pulse is… on the strong side. Regular.”
When she finished recording the result and looked up, Hunter was wearing a triumphant smirk, as though to say, See?
You really have to beat me at something this trivial to feel satisfied, don’t you, Hunter Hamilton?
Jiyu barely restrained a pout and rolled the sleeve of her workout shirt, which reached her elbow, all the way up to her shoulder.
“This time, the brachial pulse.”
She held out her milky-white arm. Hunter shifted closer until their knees nearly touched, gripped her upper arm firmly, and probed the inside with his fingers several times.
Then he frowned and looked up again.
“Hey.”
Jiyu sighed and narrowed her eyes.
“What now?”
His bright blue eyes regarded her with an odd gleam. Then he blinked rapidly.
“Why… is there no muscle at all on your arm?”
Jiyu opened and closed her mouth, unable to think of a response. She ran track three times a week at school and played tennis twice, so it was not as though she never exercised. Even so, no visible muscle ever formed on her arms.
“…W-what does that have to do with taking my pulse?”
Her protest came a moment too late.
“It feels weird. It’s all soft and wobbly, like pudding.”
Hunter muttered as though genuinely perplexed, scratching the back of his neck as if it had suddenly begun to itch.
“What kind of… Just measure it already.”
He casually swept the hair from his forehead and reached out again. This time, however, he hesitated for a moment and glanced up.
The instant their eyes met, both of them looked away in opposite directions.
For some reason, Jiyu’s breathing quickened.
Hunter carefully pressed her upper arm a few more times before finally locating the pulse. The minute that followed felt even longer than the last.
“Ninety-one. Pulse strength… medium. Regular.”
Once he had written down the result, Hunter cleared his throat.
“Ahem. Your turn. Hurry up and measure mine.”
He extended his arm straight out and waited with surprising patience for the slow-moving Jiyu.
At last, she straightened three fingers and pressed them gently against the middle of his upper arm.
The sensation was strangely ticklish, as though feathers had been attached to her fingertips. Hunter bit the inside of his lip against the tingling and clenched his fist. His arm tensed automatically, the muscles hardening and the veins rising beneath his skin.
“Don’t tense up, Hunter. I can’t press properly.”
Jiyu grumbled as she searched the inside of his arm with her fingers.
Unable to bear it any longer, Hunter caught her hand.
“Ow! That hurts!”
He immediately released her and bared his teeth in a growl.
“It tickles! Just press harder. Are you really that weak?”
“…O-okay.”
Jiyu bit down on her lower lip and returned her fingers to the inside of his arm. This time, she applied more pressure as she searched.
It was still unbearably ticklish.
“Oh, I found it!”
Jiyu exclaimed softly and pressed firmly against his inner arm. Her neat, unbitten nails dug into his skin.
Hunter turned his head away like someone receiving an injection, puffing out his chest as he held his breath.
Damn it. Why is it so hot?
Jiyu watched the digital clock on the wall and measured his pulse for one minute. When she finished, she tilted her head uncertainly.
“Ninety-eight. The pulse is strong, but… it feels a little irregular compared to before.”
Hunter yanked his arm back and gave her a suspicious glare.
“Ninety-eight? Are you sure you measured it correctly? It’s only been a few minutes since you checked my wrist. That’s too big a difference.”
And now it was irregular too.
He had not even exercised. Why would it suddenly change?
He could not believe a word she said.
Jiyu mumbled defensively.
“I’m only telling you what I felt. It wasn’t very irregular, but it was a little less steady than before. Really, I’m not lying!”
“Cut the bullshit. What’s next, the neck? Hurry up and offer it.”
Hunter decided he wanted to finish this ridiculous exercise as quickly as possible.
Jiyu pursed her lips several times in displeasure before pressing them tightly together. Then she quietly turned her head and tilted it to one side.
The moment the pale curve of her neck was exposed, the hair draped over her shoulder slipped down and covered it again.
It was a rare shade of brown, muted and soft, streaked here and there with honey-blond highlights. Indoors, it looked simply brunette, but under sunlight, the blond strands shimmered, making the color appear to shift with every movement.
Without thinking, Hunter reached out and swept her hair aside.
Jiyu flinched and covered her neck with one hand.
Startled by her reaction, Hunter shouted.
“What? Why?”
She glanced around, then lowered her head and muttered. Her ears had turned red.
“Be quiet. Everyone’s staring.”
Hunter clicked his tongue and swept a menacing glare around the gym.
‘What are you looking at?’
He mouthed the words and widened his eyes. The curious students who had been watching immediately turned away.
Jiyu had always hated being stared at. Lauren said it was because she was introverted and painfully shy.
Hunter snorted in irritation and looked down at her.
‘She never runs out of things to say to me, but this is what scares her.’
Whenever Jiyu acted like this, it annoyed him for reasons he could not explain.
It was not as though the other students were firing bullets from their eyes. What was she so afraid of?
Cowardly Ju Parker.
“Lift your head. No one’s looking anymore.”
Only then did Jiyu raise her head slightly and glance around to make sure. After confirming that the others had turned away, she released a quiet sigh of relief.
“Okay, only five minutes left! Stop fooling around and finish quickly!”
Ms. Shapiro called over the din of the class.
“We’re out of time. Hurry up and give me your neck.”
Hunter urged Jiyu.