The heat of May didn't let up—not in the streets, not in the gym, and definitely not online. By the time Ji-hye finished her evening laps at the volleyball court, breath burning in her lungs, the notifications on her phone were already blowing up. She ignored them at first. She always did. Messages were a constant—coaches, reporters, fans, LUNE staff, sponsors—but something felt different tonight. The air felt too quiet around her, too tight, as if the world was holding its breath.
She strolled into the locker room, sweat dripping down her spine, peeled off her shirt, and reached for her towel. The moment she opened her locker, she saw it: her teammates frozen in place, eyes glued to their phones. A couple girls glanced up, faces pinched with discomfort. One of them hurriedly lowered her screen, as if hiding something vulgar.
Ji-hye frowned. "What?"
No one answered. Just shifting feet, stiff backs, nervous glances.
