Just Another High School Cliché

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The long, trying practice session was, mercifully, over, after what felt like 163 eternities, but was actually just 163 minutes. All were tired beyond explanation, and Min Yoongi was more satisfied than he'd been in a long time.

"I don't want anyone ditching practice on Monday," he called to the kids before leaving, his voice firm. "Tolerate a few months of hard work, it's for your own good; if you can't, then just quit."

He grimaced after turning away from them and mouthed, Please don't quit.

The players, who were at the bleachers having rest and water, watched him walk away and made sure he was gone before unleashing all the curses, frustrated head bangs and dramatic cries of pain.

"What're we gonna do with these!" Guanlin gazed dreadfully at the box that was occupied by the weight cuffs once again. Everyone took them off the moment they were allowed to.

"I say we hide them," Minhyuk's voice had a serious undertone. "No one will know, we'll just say they're lost."

"No," Hyebin refused immediately. "As much as I like the idea, we can't. We won't. It would've been fine if they were funded by the school, but they're not. Mr. Min took the initiative to get these for us from his own pocket, and we can't let that go waste. We can- and will- request him to notch things down a bit, but the cuffs aren't going anywhere besides the sports office."

"Second that," Jimin said shortly. He'd finally sat- for the first time since practice started- on the ground with his legs lazily spread in front of him and his back against the lowest step of the bleachers.

Minhyuk let his head hang back. "Fine, but please, do request."

Luckily for all, it was a Sunday the next day, meaning practice was off. They started leaving, one by one, mostly in pairs- those who left in pairs were the ones that needed some physical support to start off their journey home. They dragged themselves, stumbled, even limped, but well, at least they could move.

When Jisoo left, Y/N and Jimin were the only ones remaining. The younger girl sighed loudly, hanging her head low. The Park boy, who was still unmoved from his place at the foot of the bleachers and had been using his phone for a while now, paid no attention to her.

The girl's eyes shifted, setting themselves on his legs. His muscular, strong legs that could withstand so much. Then her gaze moved on to his arms- oh, his arms, those sinewy arms, those biceps and triceps- they were a beautiful physical specimen, all his muscles were. Inevitably, envy hit her like the KTX.

Damn I wish I had muscles like those, she thought to herself wistfully.

She didn't know if his were the best on the team- she'd never compared- but she was sure she couldn't build herself up even half as much as any of them.

Her phone rang, breaking her line of thoughts and indicating that their family driver had arrived to pick her and Taehyung from practice. Just to make sure, she checked the caller ID before zipping her bag close and getting up on her feet- and doing her best to ignore the muscle soreness as she did- to leave. Y/N accepted the call as she began on her way to the gates.

"I'm coming," she told the driver.

"I'm waiting outside, dear," he responded.

"Okay," she said before hanging up.

Once she'd stepped beyond the sideline, she didn't forget to turn back, bend down, touch the ground of the court and then her heart with the same hand. It was this small ritual among the team members and the coach. They did it everyday before entering the court and after leaving it, as a sign of respect and love.