After the match ended, Han went to shower while Chaewon remained seated at the edge of the court.
The noise of the crowd had faded long ago, leaving behind only the echo of bouncing balls from distant courts. Everyone else had left—it was just the two of them now.
But for Chaewon, that silence was suffocating. His mind wouldn't stop racing. Maybe he's angry because I almost cheated. What if he never talks to me again? What if he leaves me here on purpose? He tried to comfort himself. If he leaves, I'll just take the bike home.
But even he knew that wasn't the point. It wasn't about the bike—it was about Han. He had seen the look on his face earlier; there had been anger in it. Should I just apologize?
He was still lost in this storm when Han finally stepped out, his hair damp, his expression unreadable. Without so much as a glance, Han walked straight past him toward the door. Chaewon's stomach sank. Each step Han took felt like confirmation. So it's true… he's leaving me here.
But then, just before the exit, Han stopped and turned back.
"Chaewon, let's go. Why are you still sitting there? Don't you want to go home?"
Relief flooded Chaewon's chest. He almost jumped to his feet. "Yes, let's go home." He hurried after Han, his earlier fears melting into happiness as they fell into step together.
On the way out, Han handed him the keys. That simple gesture felt like forgiveness, like trust. Chaewon slid into the driver's seat, still smiling, while Han leaned against the window and drifted to sleep. Chaewon kept sneaking glances at him, driving quietly but with a warmth in his chest.
When they arrived, Chaewon hesitated before asking, "Han… should we buy fried chicken?" His voice was careful, almost shy—like he was trying to keep the connection alive.
Han gave him a faint, tired smile. "I have a party to attend. But if you want to eat, I'll buy it for you."
Chaewon froze, disappointment pricking at him. So he really is still upset… He forced his voice into a cold tone. "No. I wanted to buy it for you."
The small happiness of the drive vanished instantly. They walked up the stairs in silence, the tension heavy between them. When they reached his door, Chaewon quickly stepped inside and shut it behind him, leaving Han alone in the hallway. Han sighed, then quietly went to his own apartment.
But shutting the door didn't shut out Chaewon's unease. He threw himself on the sofa, restless, before pressing his ear against the wall, trying to hear what Han was doing. Nothing. After a while, he went to Han's door, waiting, listening for footsteps. Fifteen long minutes passed with no sound. Defeated, he turned to head back—only for Han's door to open at that very moment.