Dawn's New Routine

The faint pattern of footsteps echoed down the corridor in the early morning stillness. The rhythmic sound grew closer, deliberate yet unhurried. Three figures moved with quiet precision, their strides steady and purposeful. Instructor Dong-soo, Instructor Seung-hyun, and Instructor Ji-woo, freshly showered and dressed in their usual training attire, were heading toward the boys' sleeping quarters.

Their expressions were neutral, giving little away, but there was a glint in their eyes—a subtle hint of curiosity, perhaps even expectation. It wasn't uncommon for them to launch surprise drills at such ungodly hours, testing their students' alertness and readiness. The memory of past mornings filled with groggy protests, cold water assaults, and startled yelps brought a faint smirk to Instructor Dong-soo's lips.

However, this time, the instructors carried no buckets of cold water, no loud whistles, or blaring alarms. Their hands were empty, their posture relaxed, as though this visit was to be different.

Reaching the door, Instructor Ji-woo slid it open smoothly, the soft click echoing in the dim corridor. Without hesitation, Instructor Dong-soo flicked on the lights, flooding the room with a harsh, artificial glow.

What met their eyes was not what they had expected.

All nine male students—Tae-young, In-su, Chin-hwa, Kyu, Joon-ho, Min-jae, Baek-hyeon, Kang-dae, and Kyung-mi—were already awake. Not only awake but alert, positioned in ways that suggested they were ready to react, to leap away from any perceived threat.

Their eyes blinked against the sudden brightness, but their bodies were poised, muscles tense as though waiting for the next command.

"Well, well," Instructor Seung-hyun said, crossing his arms and leaning slightly against the doorframe. "Looks like we're late to the party."

Instructor Dong-soo chuckled, the sound warm but laced with approval.

"Seems like all those early wake-up drills weren't for nothing."

Instructor Ji-woo glanced around the room, his sharp eyes noting the steady breathing and calm focus of the students. There were no signs of sluggishness or grogginess, just readiness.

"Impressive. But don't get too comfortable—this doesn't mean the drills are over," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

The boys exchanged glances, a flicker of satisfaction visible despite their otherwise disciplined demeanour.

"Alright," Instructor Dong-soo said, clapping his hands once to grab their attention. "No surprise tests today, but we've got something new lined up. Morning jog. Outside."

This announcement elicited a few raised eyebrows. Fitness training had always been confined to the sleek machines in the facility's gym—treadmills, stationary bikes, and resistance equipment. Running outside was a break from routine, a shift in their structured schedule.

"Outside?" Min-jae echoed, his tone reflecting a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"Did I stutter?" Instructor Dong-soo shot back, his expression amused. "Get changed and meet us in the courtyard in ten minutes. Don't be late."

Without further ado, the instructors turned on their heels and left, their footsteps retreating down the corridor.

As the door slid shut, the boys relaxed slightly, their poised stances easing into more casual movements.

"Outside, huh?" Joon-ho said, scratching the back of his neck. "That's new."

"Guess they want to shake things up," Tae-young replied, already rifling through his belongings for his training gear.

Kang-dae stretched his arms over his head.

"It's probably about endurance. Machines are good, but running on uneven terrain? That's a whole different beast."

Kyung-mi nodded in agreement, lacing up his sneakers.

"Could be. Either way, it beats being doused with cold water."

The group chuckled at that, their shared memories of those brutal wake-up calls enough to bond them. One by one, they readied themselves, pulling on training clothes and tying their shoes with practised efficiency.

By the time the ten minutes were up, all nine boys were gathered in the courtyard, the cool morning air crisp against their skin. The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and orange, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon. The instructors waited for them, their expressions calm but watchful, as though evaluating their charges even in this quiet moment.

"Alright," Instructor Dong-soo said, his voice cutting through the stillness. "This isn't just about running. It's about pacing yourselves, reading the terrain, and pushing your limits. Stick together as a team, and don't slack off."

With that, the group set off, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps blending into the morning's stillness. As the boys ran, their breaths forming faint clouds in the chill air, they couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. This wasn't just a drill or a routine exercise. It was a testament to how far they'd come, and how much further they were willing to go.

As the group jogged along the marked paths, their steady pace took them toward the stretch of land where the obstacle course had been set up for their initial trial weeks ago. The course, once a bustling hub of activity filled with adrenaline-fueled determination, now stood silent and still. The ropes swayed gently in the breeze, and the mud pits had dried into cracked earth. The towering walls and dangling nets loomed like forgotten sentinels, a stark reminder of the gruelling challenge they'd faced when they first arrived.

Tae-young, running near the front of the group, glanced at the familiar obstacles and chuckled softly.

"Man, remember how I aced through this obstacle like a breeze? Never was a challenge."

"Whatever makes you happy, Tae-young. Whatever makes you happy," In-su, running beside him, shook his head with a small smile.

From the middle of the group, Kang-dae chimed in, his voice carrying over their rhythmic footfalls.

"And now we're running laps past it like it's just another morning routine. Funny how things change."

"But to think they only used it once… Kind of feels like a waste, doesn't it? All that effort to set it up, just for a single day," Min-jae let out a low hum of agreement, his eyes scanning the remnants of the course.

"That's life," In-su added, his tone philosophical as he matched his pace to the others. "Once something serves its purpose, it gets left behind. It's like that old saying: when the arrow hits the target, the bow is put aside."

"What, you reading fortune cookies now?" Joon-ho, running a little ahead, snorted.

The group chuckled, the sound light and easy despite the strain of their workout.

But as they passed the obstacle course, a different thought settled in their minds. This wasn't just a relic of the past—it was a piece of their journey, a symbol of how far they'd come since their arrival. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn't entirely forgotten.

"Well," Kyung-mi said, his voice thoughtful. "This place isn't just for us. It's a training ground for future representatives, right? I bet they'll use it again for the next batch of students. Maybe they'll even tweak it, make it harder."

"Let's hope the next group is as good as we are. Wouldn't want them to think we set the bar too low," hearing this, Chin-hwa smirked.

"They'd better be ready to work. If they're not running laps or climbing walls, are they even training?" Tae-young laughed at that.

As they rounded a bend, the instructors jogging alongside them remained silent, but their expressions hinted at quiet approval. They'd heard the students' musings, and while the obstacle course's fate wasn't for the students to decide, their reflections showed growth—an understanding of purpose and adaptability.

Instructor Dong-soo finally broke the silence, his voice carrying over the group.

"You're right. This place will get used again, just not in the way you think. Every challenge has its time. The question is, will you be ready for the next one when it comes?"

The students exchanged glances, a mix of determination and curiosity flickering in their eyes. They didn't know what lay ahead, but they knew they'd face it together, stronger and sharper than before.

And as the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting its warm light over the silent course and the jogging group, it felt like a promise—that this place, and the students within it, still had many stories to tell.

The group continued their steady jog, their breathing in rhythm with their strides as they lapped the obstacle course a couple more times. Each lap brought new observations—details they hadn't noticed during their first trial. Tae-young spotted faint claw marks on the walls from where someone had slipped and scrambled up, likely the others and not his. Baek-hyeon recognized the faded footprints pressed into the dried mud near the net climb, remnants of their initial frantic efforts to prove themselves.

With each lap, a quiet sense of camaraderie grew among them. No one fell behind; no one complained. They pushed forward together, their pace unbroken even as sweat glistened on their brows and their breaths grew heavier. It wasn't about competition now—it was about resilience, about showing they had all grown from the wide-eyed rookies who had stumbled through this course weeks ago.

As they approached the starting point, the instructors slowed their pace and gestured for the students to follow. They eased into a walk, allowing their muscles to cool down.

"Good effort," Instructor Ji-woo said, his voice calm but firm. "Head to the showers and clean up. Breakfast starts soon."

The students nodded, exchanging small, satisfied smiles. They had come far, and this was just the beginning.