The gymnasium of Haneul Private High School was electric.
Banners draped over every railing. Harsh white lights bounced off the polished court. Sneakers screeched. Whistles sliced through the air. Camera shutters clicked nonstop like insects feeding on the moment.
"CAPTAIN HAN!"
"HANEUL! HANEUL! HANEUL!"
The final buzzer rang.
Haneul High — 78
Seonghwa High — 64
The crowd exploded.
Players crashed into one another, laughter and adrenaline colliding. Coach Kwan shouted something incomprehensible half praise, half threat.
At the center of it all stood Han Ji-woo.
Breathing steady.
No grin.
No raised fists.
Just calm.
Park Min-jae leaped onto his back without warning.
"BRO. You're insane. That last steal? Absolutely filthy."
Kim Hyeon-su nodded, adjusting his wristband.
"Defense rotation was perfect. Especially third quarter."
Ji-woo wiped the sweat from his jaw.
"We won."
Min-jae squinted at him.
"You always sound like that after winning. Do you even feel joy?"
Before Ji-woo could answer, a sudden uproar rose from the stands.
Not cheers.
Chaos.
"WHY is this banner bigger than the scoreboard?!" Jung Tae-ho yelled.
"Because Seo-ah said 'bigger means more love,'" Kim Ji-hye groaned. "I regret everything."
"Smile," Bae Soo-min muttered. "If we don't help her, she'll sulk for three days."
"Guys! Hold it higher!" Seo-ah's voice rang out brightly.
"Ji-woo needs to see it!"
"Girl," Tae-ho snapped, "the whole city can see it."
Whispers rippled through the gym.
"WAIT—she actually did this?"
"No way. Again?!"
Min-jae turned first.
Then froze.
"…Oh."
Ji-woo frowned.
"What."
Min-jae's lips slowly curved into a grin.
"Dude. Look."
Ji-woo followed his gaze.
And there she was.
Choi Seo-ah.
Standing shamelessly in the front row, holding a banner so massive it nearly swallowed three students behind her.
> HAN JI-WOO MVP ♡
WIN OR LOSE, I'M YOURS
Beside her, a hired food cart was handing out free snacks.
"FREE DRINKS!" Seo-ah shouted happily.
"Please eat well! Athletes need energy!"
"She's single-handedly feeding the gym," Ji-hye muttered.
"This isn't support," Soo-min said flatly.
"This is devotion."
The cheers grew louder.
Min-jae burst out laughing.
"BRO. Your girlfriend just funded the entire gym."
Ji-woo's expression didn't change.
Seo-ah spotted him instantly. Her face lit up. She waved with both hands, bouncing on her toes.
"JI-WOO!"
He looked away.
After the award ceremony, Seo-ah rushed down with bottled water, practically glowing.
Her friends followed behind her, visibly exhausted with life.
"I'm never saying yes to her ideas again," Soo-min crossed her arms.
"You say that every time," Tae-ho scoffed. "Then she pouts."
"At least the banner slayed," Ji-hye shrugged. "Worth it."
Seo-ah stopped in front of Ji-woo, eyes sparkling.
"Here! Drink," she said brightly.
"You were so cool out there—especially that block, I swear my heart—"
"Let's break up."
The words cut clean through the noise.
Seo-ah blinked.
"…What?"
Ji-woo's voice was calm. Too calm.
"We should break up."
Phones slowly tilted toward them.
Seo-ah laughed weakly.
"Stop joking. You always act weird after games—"
"I'm serious."
Her smile wavered.
"Why?"
Ji-woo finally looked at her.
Cold. Detached.
"Because you're stupid."
The gym fell silent.
Soo-min stepped forward instantly.
"What did you just say?"
Ji-woo didn't look away from Seo-ah.
"I don't want a girlfriend who can't keep up academically. It's embarrassing."
"Excuse me?" Ji-hye scoffed.
Tae-ho cracked his knuckles.
"You're bold for someone standing this close to me."
"I don't want to babysit someone whose only achievement is cheering."
Seo-ah lifted her hand.
Everyone froze.
She tilted her head, processing slowly.
"Oh."
A pause.
"So… dumb people can't date?"
Her voice was soft. Genuine.
"I didn't know that," she said quietly.
"Is that a rule at Haneul?"
The question hit harder than any slap.
Ji-woo said nothing.
He turned away.
"Let's go."
Min-jae hesitated. Hyeon-su followed.
Behind them—
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"
"We spent MONEY!"
"Actual money!"
"Banner! Food! Emotional labor!"
"I flirted with the vendor for a discount!"
"And he dumps her? In public?!"
Seo-ah didn't hear any of it.
She was already running.
The hallway echoed with footsteps.
"Han Ji-woo!"
He stopped when her hand grabbed his sleeve.
Hair messy. Breath uneven. No smile.
"Don't break up with me yet," she said quickly.
"Please."
"Let go."
"Just three months."
He turned.
"What."
"Give me three months," Seo-ah said, nodding like she'd already decided the future.
"I'll change."
Min-jae inhaled sharply.
"Oh no."
Ji-woo laughed once. Short. Sharp.
"Change into what. Someone smart?"
"I'll try."
"You'll fail."
"Then I'll disappear."
That made him pause.
Half a second.
"Fine," Ji-woo said.
"But you don't set the rules."
"I do."
He stepped closer. Not touching.
"For the next three months," he said evenly,
"you get perfect scores. Every subject."
She swallowed. Nodded.
"You win an international academic competition."
"That's insane," Min-jae muttered.
"You don't meet me."
"You don't talk to me."
"You don't show up where I am."
Seo-ah's fingers curled into her palms.
"No trouble with teachers. One warning we're done."
"No makeup. No styled hair."
Her lips parted.
"You take the bus."
"No drivers. No money solving problems."
"Break one rule,"
"and we're done."
Silence.
Seo-ah looked at him.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
"I said okay."
She lifted her chin. Eyes shaking but stubborn.
"Three months."
"Three months."
She smiled.
Small. Determined. Dangerous.
"Thank you."
She turned and walked away.
Min-jae exhaled.
"…What the hell was that?"
"You know she's actually going to try, right?" Hyeon-su muttered.
Ji-woo stared down the empty hallway.
"That's the point."
Because if she failed
she'd hate him and leave.
And if she didn't—
The rooftop was unusually quiet.
Wind brushed past the metal fence, carrying the distant roar of the gym below. From up here, the celebration sounded distant like it belonged to a different world.
Jung Tae-ho sat on the concrete floor, legs stretched out, school jacket tossed aside.
"I swear," he snapped, dragging a hand through his hair,
"if I had one wish in life just one"
Lee Do-hyun leaned against the railing, a cigarette between his fingers.
"it would be to beat Han Ji-woo with that banner," Tae-ho continued.
"Do you know how big that thing was? MVP. Win or lose, I'm yours."
Do-hyun exhaled slowly.
"…What happened?"
Tae-ho scoffed.
"What happened?"
He let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
"You're really asking that?"
He stood up, pacing.
"I'm tired, Hyun. I'm exhausted from watching people fall for someone who's emotionally constipated."
Do-hyun frowned.
"What did Ji-woo do?"
Tae-ho stopped and pointed toward the gym.
"Seo-ah did everything. The banner. Free drinks. Free food. Smiling the entire time like she was made of sunshine."
His laugh cracked.
"And Ji-woo?"
"Cold. Flat. Like a damn robot."
Do-hyun's cigarette paused mid-air.
"…He did something?"
Tae-ho rubbed his face hard.
"I haven't even finished ranting," he muttered.
"But basically—"
He looked straight at Do-hyun.
"I have two friends," Tae-ho said flatly.
"One is a stupid, hopeless simp."
"And the other—"
He exhaled.
"Is stuck in one-sided love."
Do-hyun froze.
The words settled heavily.
"…Seo-ah?" he asked quietly.
Tae-ho blinked.
"Wait. You didn't know?"
Something dropped in Do-hyun's chest.
He crushed the cigarette under his shoe.
"What happened to Seo-ah?" His voice sharpened.
"What did he do?"
Tae-ho opened his mouth
and Do-hyun was already moving.
"Hey—HYUN?!"
Footsteps echoed as Do-hyun sprinted toward the stairwell.
"I'M NOT DONE RANTING YET!" Tae-ho yelled after him.
"I'M LITERALLY IN THE MIDDLE OF EMOTIONAL PROCESSING—"
The door slammed shut.
Tae-ho stood alone on the rooftop.
He stared at the empty space.
"…Unbelievable," he muttered.
"One runs because he's worried."
"One hurts people because he's scared."
He leaned back against the fence and sighed.
"And me?"
He scoffed.
"I end up refereeing everyone's trauma."
Whispers turned into debates.
Debates turned into headlines.
"CAPTAIN HAN DUMPS CHAEBOL HEIRESS?"
"CHOI SEO-AH CALLED STUPID?"
"ACADEMIC SHAMING OR COLD-BLOODED BREAKUP?"
Every hallway buzzed.
That was when Seo-ah's friends snapped.
"If you confuse bad grades with low intelligence," Soo-min said sweetly,
"you're announcing you peaked in middle school."
They walked off dramatically.
Behind them, Seo-ah didn't notice.
She sat at her desk. Quiet.
Which was alarming.
Perfect scores.
International competition.
No Ji-woo.
Three months.
"…Okay," she whispered.
She picked up her pen.
School was over. The black sedan waited at the gate.
Seo-ah walked past it.
Toward the bus stop.
Ji-hye turned around, key still in hand."She forgot something?"
Seo-ah stood at the bus stop, hands clasped neatly in front of her.Waiting.
Lee Do-hyun followed her gaze.
"…She's serious."
Silence.
Tae-oh ran a hand through his hair."Are we really letting her take the bus alone?"
"You say that like we've ever taken a bus before," Soo-min muttered.
Ji-hye exhaled dramatically."I swear, if my dad finds out—"
Ten minutes later, all five of them stood there.
The bus arrived loud, crowded, alive.
Seo-ah tapped her card.
BEEP.
"That's it?"
"That's cheaper than my coffee."
Seo-ah held the handle calmly.
"Hold on tighter."
The bus rattled forward.
"What did that bastard do to you?" Do-hyun asked quietly.
"Don't call him that." Seo-ah's grip on the handle tightened.
"Ji-woo is… cool."
Do-hyun's jaw clenched.
"He humiliated you. In front of everyone."
"He gave me conditions."
Silence spread between them.
"Three months," Seo-ah continued softly.
"Perfect scores. International competition."
"No Ji-woo."
"No makeup."
"Bus every day."
Do-hyun stared at her.
"…Why agree?"
Seo-ah shrugged, like it was obvious.
"Because if I fail," she said, eyes forward,
"he won't stop me anymore."
The bus passed Haneul High's gate.
Do-hyun's hands curled into fists.
"You know," he said slowly,
"if it were me—"
Seo-ah turned.
He stopped. Then smiled. Small. Careful.
"…Never mind."
The bus shook over a bump.
Do-hyun looked out the window.
"Just don't disappear," he said quietly.
"Okay?"Seo-ah blinked.
Then nodded.
"I won't." She meant it.
Do-hyun didn't smile this time.
Because he knew
she was fighting for someone
who would never fight with her.