AFTER SCHOOL — THE PLAN
The bell rang, sharp and final.
Chairs scraped against the floor. Bags were slung over shoulders. The classroom emptied in uneven waves, but no one really left.
Jisoo stood.
"Court. Five p.m. Straight," he said.
No hesitation. No room for argument.
Everyone nodded — some too quickly.
They all knew the problem.
Seungmin never stayed.
That was why, slowly, almost guiltily, their eyes drifted toward Han.
Han felt it before he saw it — the weight of expectation pressing down on his shoulders. His fingers curled around the strap of his bag.
Me?
He swallowed and walked toward Seungmin anyway. Each step felt heavier than the last.
"Seungmin," he said, voice softer than he wanted. "Are you going home first… or going straight to practice?"
Seungmin didn't even look up.
"What about you?" he asked instead.
Han blinked, then pointed at himself with a small, nervous laugh.
"Me? Uh… I want to go home, but it's far. I'll be late. So I thought I'd go straight. But I really want to take a bath first."
He paused, embarrassed.
"I don't know what to do."
Seungmin was quiet. Too quiet.
Just when Han thought he'd messed up
"I can take you somewhere," Seungmin said.
Han's heart skipped.
"Will it be okay?"
"Yes," Seungmin replied. "Let's go."
Across the room, the others exchanged looks — relief flickering across their faces.
One by one, they drifted away, pretending nothing unusual had happened.
THE HOTEL
The taxi stopped in front of a towering building, glass reflecting the afternoon sun.
Han craned his neck upward. Forty… maybe fifty floors?
"Wait," he said, panic creeping in. "Why are we here? This place looks expensive. Just for a bath....."
"It's fine," Seungmin interrupted. "This is our hotel."
Before Han could process that, staff rushed toward them, bowing low. One reached for Seungmin's bag.
"It's fine," Seungmin said calmly. "You can take his."
Han flushed as his bag was taken from him like it was something precious.
The elevator ride was silent — soft music playing, numbers climbing steadily.
Forty-five.
The doors opened to the penthouse.
Han stopped breathing.
Light flooded the space. The city stretched endlessly beyond the windows, alive and glowing. He ran toward the glass, palms pressed against it.
"This is beautiful," he whispered. "I've never been somewhere like this."
Seungmin frowned slightly.
"Really? Your family owns places better than this."
The words landed wrong.
Han's shoulders stiffened.
"When I was little," he said slowly, "my father sent my sister and me abroad. We lived in a house there. It wasn't fancy. But it felt like home."
He swallowed.
"When I came back, there was a mansion. Huge. Perfect. Empty. I always felt like I was just standing not living."
He turned back to Seungmin. And spoke while lying down on the bed.
"This place feels like both. And being here with you…"
His voice softened.
"I feels good."
Seungmin stared at him like he didn't know how to breathe.
"With me?" he echoed.
A knock broke the moment.
"Sir, the bath is ready."
Han nodded and disappeared inside.
Seungmin remained on the couch, staring at the space Han had occupied, chest tight with thoughts he didn't understand.
PRACTICE
When they arrived at the court together, Jisoo noticed immediately.
The way Han stood closer.
The way Seungmin didn't pull away.
Something twisted in his chest.
"You're here," he said evenly. "Five laps.
Warm-up after."
They ran.
Seungmin stayed beside Han — matching his pace, never speeding up. Han noticed.
His breathing steadied.
Warm-ups followed.
They were… terrible.
Minho nearly fell over. Woohyun laughed so hard he forgot to stretch.
Chahyuk complained nonstop.
Han tried to copy Jisoo's movements and somehow turned a simple stretch into something that looked like a ritual dance.
"What are you doing?" Minho gasped.
"Summoning spirits?"
Han bowed. "If they help me play better, yes."
Laughter filled the court.
Even Jisoo smiled — just a little.
After practice, Minho nudged Chahyuk until he sighed.
"Are you guys hungry?"
"Yes!" Minho shouted far too enthusiastically.
Jisoo glanced at Han. "You coming?"
"Yes," Han replied immediately.
No one asked Seungmin.
Han noticed. He always did.
"Do you like fried chicken?" he asked, hopeful.
"Yes."
Han looped his arm through Seungmin's without thinking.
"Then let's go!"