[Six months earlier]
The ball hit the backboard, kissed the rim, and dropped through.
For half a second, nobody moved.
Then the buzzer screamed.
Noise burst over Jae-min so hard it felt physical—his teammates crashing into him, shoes screeching across the court, somebody grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him so violently the world blurred around the edges. The scoreboard above the bleachers flashed the final score in glaring red, but he could barely make it out through the rush in his ears.
They'd won.
"Han Jae-min!"
Someone slammed into his side again, nearly knocking him over, and Jae-min laughed breathlessly, clutching the front of his jersey with one hand as if that would somehow steady the pounding in his chest. Sweat rolled down the side of his neck. His shirt was plastered to his back. His lungs still burned from the last sprint, his legs humming with leftover adrenaline that had nowhere to go now that the game was over.
He could still feel the shot in his palm.
The cut, the turn, the split-second opening—then the ball leaving his hand with the clock already dying overhead.
"Did you see his face?" one of his teammates shouted, half bent over and cackling. "That bastard looked ready to start praying when you stole the ball."
He laughed through it, sweat cooling on his skin now that the game was over, the gym too bright and too loud and stinking faintly of rubber soles and body heat and old varnished wood. The crowd was still roaring in the bleachers. Someone had started chanting his name from the upper row. One of the freshmen on the bench looked seconds away from crying.
Jae-min tipped his head back and grinned at the ceiling.
Damn, that shot was beautiful.
"Jae-min!"
He looked up toward the bleachers.
Min-woo was hanging over the railing with absolutely no shame, both hands wrapped around his mouth as he yelled down at him like a lunatic.
"You're paying for dinner!" he shouted. "And if you say no, I'm posting that embarrassing middle school picture of you!"
Jae-min barked out a laugh. "Do that and I'll kill you!"
A few girls standing nearby laughed. Min-woo bowed like he'd personally orchestrated the entire game, and Jae-min rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.
By the time the team was done celebrating and Coach was done yelling something about "discipline" and "don't let this get to your heads," Jae-min had changed out of his jersey and into a black sleeveless shirt. His sports vest hung open over it, and his hair was still damp at the roots from the rushed rinse he'd taken in the locker room. He slung his bag over one shoulder, basketball under his arm, and headed out of the school building with Min-woo at his side.
The evening air hit his skin like cold water.
Jae-min exhaled through his mouth and rolled his shoulders back. The heat from the gym was still clinging to him, trapped in the cotton at his spine. The campus had thinned out now that the match was over, but there were still groups of students lingering near the front lawn, talking too loudly, replaying moments from the game, throwing glances his way.
He heard his own name once or twice.
Min-woo, naturally, noticed.
"Look at that," he said with a click of his tongue. "The star player can't even walk to the gate in peace."
Jae-min bounced the ball once on the pavement and caught it. "Try not to sound jealous."
"Jealous?" Min-woo scoffed. "Of what? The sweat? The ego? The incoming flood of girls with terrible taste?"
Jae-min snorted as he shook his head, but his mouth was already pulling into a grin again.
"You saw that last shot though, right?" he said, bringing it up again. "If I'd gone left, I would've been blocked. I had to cut through the center."
Min-woo made a dramatic face. "I'm begging you. Please find a personality outside of basketball."
"It's not my fault I'm gifted."
"You're insufferable."
"And yet you continue to stay."
"Tragic, really."
They were halfway across the parking lot when Jae-min spotted the car.
Seo-yeon was leaning against the driver's side door, one arm folded under the other, her keys looped around a finger. She had changed out of her work clothes, but not completely—still in slacks, still neat, still carrying that clean older-sister air that made Jae-min feel like she had come out of the womb already knowing how to manage bills and keep plants alive.
The second she saw him, her face softened.
Something in Jae-min loosened at once.
Min-woo saw it happen and groaned. "Oh, look at him. He's got his noona smile on."
"Shut up," Jae-min muttered, already walking faster.
"Yeah, yeah. Go. I know I've been replaced."
"You were never first."
Min-woo clutched at his chest. "Cruel."
Jae-min lifted a hand in a lazy wave and jogged the rest of the way toward the car, the basketball tucked against his side.
"Noona."
Seo-yeon smiled. "There he is."
"Did you see it?"
She laughed softly. "Hello to you too."
"Did you see it?" he repeated, stepping right in front of her. "The last shot. Tell me you saw it."
"I saw it." Her eyes ran over him once, taking in the damp hair, the flushed face, the smug expression. "You were good."
"Just good?"
"Very good," she corrected, and reached up to push his fringe off his forehead before her hand stopped halfway there. Her nose wrinkled. "And absolutely disgusting."
Jae-min stared at her. "What?"
"You smell horrible."
He looked offended on principle. "I just won us the game."
"And I'm very proud of you," she said, already laughing. "From a safe distance."
He took one step closer.
Seo-yeon's eyes widened. "Don't you dare."
Jae-min lunged anyway.
She yelped the second he threw an arm around her shoulders and leaned his full post-game body into her. "Jae-min!"
"You said I smell."
"You do!"
"That hurts me."
"You're sweating on me, you psychopath—get off!"
She shoved at his ribs with both hands, laughing so hard she had to lean back against the car, and Jae-min only tightened his hold for another second out of spite before finally letting her go.
The moment he stepped back, she swatted his arm.
"Disgusting."
"You love me."
"I loved you more before this."
Jae-min grinned and opened the passenger door.
The drive home was easy in the way it always was with Seo-yeon.
Jae-min spent most of it talking with his hands—about the final quarter, about how one of the opposing forwards had nearly tripped over his own feet, about how Coach was definitely pretending not to be proud. Seo-yeon listened with the small smile she always wore when he got like this, one hand on the wheel, occasionally humming in response when his storytelling got too dramatic for real words.
They had been living together for almost two years now, ever since Jae-min had started college. Their parents had hated the idea at first, mostly because Jae-min had once nearly set a pot on fire trying to boil noodles and because Seo-yeon had the unfortunate habit of pretending she was fine even when she was exhausted to the bone. But eventually the objections had died under logistics and distance and Seo-yeon's stubborn insistence that she could manage just fine. She did.
The apartment wasn't large. Two bedrooms, a narrow living room, and a kitchen. But it was theirs. Jae-min's sneakers piled carelessly by the shoe rack, her mugs in the cupboard above the sink, his game schedules stuck to the fridge with magnets she kept threatening to throw away.
Home, in other words.
The second they stepped inside, Jae-min kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag by the couch.
"I'm showering first," he called, already backing toward the hallway.
"Go," Seo-yeon said, setting her bag on the counter. "You smell like a public health issue."
"Wow. You'd think I wasn't your favorite sibling."
"You're my only sibling."
"Exactly."
He showered fast—just enough to wash the sweat off, enough to stop feeling sticky. When he came back out in a loose shirt and gray shorts, rubbing a towel over his hair, the apartment smelled like sesame oil and garlic and something simmering with soy sauce. His stomach clenched so hard it almost hurt.
By the time they sat down, the windows had fogged a little from the cooking and the TV in the living room was murmuring quietly to itself. Jae-min was starving enough to eat in silence for a full two minutes, which Seo-yeon took obvious pleasure in.
"I should record this," she said, scooping rice into her bowl. "Nobody would believe Han Jae-min is capable of shutting up."
He pointed at her with his spoon. "Don't get used to it."
"Too late."
The food was hot enough to sting his tongue. Jae-min hissed through his teeth, swallowed anyway, and reached immediately for more.
Seo-yeon laughed under her breath.
For a while, it was nothing. Just dinner. Chopsticks clinking against bowls, Jae-min stealing pieces of meat from her plate and getting smacked for it, the low murmur of the TV carrying in from the next room.
Then he noticed it—the way Seo-yeon kept checking her phone beside her bowl, not even properly looking at it—just touching it with the back of her fingers every few minutes like she was making sure it was still there.
Jae-min narrowed his eyes.
"Who is it?"
Seo-yeon didn't look up. "Who is who?"
"The person you keep waiting for."
"I'm not waiting for anyone."
"You've looked at your phone six times."
"That's because I have friends."
"You have a boyfriend."
At that, Seo-yeon's mouth twitched.
Jae-min caught it immediately and pointed. "There. That. That's the face."
She lifted her head at last. "What face?"
"The face you make when it's him."
Seo-yeon rolled her eyes, but there was a color high on her cheeks now that hadn't been there before. "Eat your food."
"Oh my God." Jae-min leaned back in his chair and stared at her like he'd just uncovered a national scandal. "It is Jihan."
"I didn't say that."
"You don't have to. You've got this whole embarrassing glow happening."
"I do not."
"You do. It's disgusting."
Seo-yeon kicked him lightly under the table.
Jae-min grinned around another bite of food. "So? What did he say?"
"Nothing."
"You're smiling."
"I am literally just eating."
"No, you're doing that thing where you pretend to be normal but your ears go red."
"My ears are not red."
"They are. I'm looking at them."
She reached up and covered one ear with her hand.
Jae-min burst out laughing.
"Wow," he said. "You're down bad."
Seo-yeon pointed her chopsticks at him. "One more word and I'm taking the food away."
He raised both hands in surrender, still laughing. "Fine, fine. I'm done."
A minute later, after stealing another piece of meat from her plate, he said, "So when am I meeting him?"
Seo-yeon paused.
It was small—just the slightest hitch in movement, her chopsticks hovering over her bowl before she set them down.
"You've seen him before," she said.
"Not properly." Jae-min scooped rice into his mouth. "I've seen him pick you up. That doesn't count. I need to assess him."
"You make it sound like a police interview."
"It is a police interview."
Seo-yeon snorted. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because you'll be annoying."
"I'm always annoying."
"Exactly."
Jae-min clicked his tongue. "You're being suspicious. How long have you two been dating now?"
Seo-yeon took a sip of water before answering. "Almost a year."
"A year," Jae-min repeated. "And I still haven't had one proper conversation with him. That's weird."
"He's busy."
"Busy men can still come say hello to the younger brother."
"You say younger brother like you're somebody's overprotective father."
Jae-min pointed at himself. "I take my role very seriously."
Seo-yeon laughed, but it faded a little as she lowered her gaze to her bowl. She used her spoon to push rice from one side to the other, not really eating.
Jae-min noticed the change immediately.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That's not a real answer."
Seo-yeon was quiet for a second.
Then she reached for her glass, took a sip, and said without looking at him, "He said he wants to take me somewhere next month."
Jae-min blinked. "Somewhere where?"
"I don't know yet. He said it's a surprise."
The words were simple enough, but her mouth curved when she said them. It was softer. Quieter. It made her look younger somehow.
Jae-min set his spoon down.
"Okay," he said slowly. "That sounds serious."
Seo-yeon's fingers curled a little tighter around her glass. "Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"He's just…" She let out a breath through her nose, almost laughing at herself. "I don't know. Lately he's been acting strange."
Jae-min's brows drew together. "Strange how?"
"Not bad strange." She shook her head quickly, like she regretted saying it at all. "Just... secretive. Distracted, maybe. But in a good way, I think."
"In a good way," Jae-min repeated.
"I think he's planning something."
That got his full attention.
Jae-min leaned forward. "What kind of something?"
Seo-yeon's eyes flicked up to his face, then away again. A smile tugged at her mouth, but there was a nervousness to it too, something shy and disbelieving.
"I don't know," she murmured. "Maybe I'm reading too much into it."
"Into what?"
She laughed once, quietly, and covered part of her face with her hand. "Jae-min."
"What?"
"I'm not saying it out loud."
"Why not?"
"Because if I say it and I'm wrong, you'll never let me live."
Jae-min's eyes widened. "No way."
"Stop."
"No way." He sat up straighter, grinning now. "You think he's going to propose?"
Seo-yeon made a strangled sound and reached across the table to hit his arm. "Keep your voice down!"
Jae-min was already laughing. "You do! Oh my God, you actually do."
"I didn't say that!"
"You basically did!"
Seo-yeon hid her face fully this time, shaking her head while Jae-min cackled like a menace.
"Okay, okay," he said eventually, still grinning. "Fine. Maybe not propose. But if you're thinking it, then it means you're serious."
Seo-yeon lowered her hand little by little.
The smile on her face had faded to something smaller now. Not embarrassed. Not exactly happy either. More fragile than that.
She looked down at the tablecloth instead of at him.
"I am," she said.
Jae-min went still.
There was nothing dramatic about the words. She just picked up her spoon again, turning it once between her fingers.
"He's…" She swallowed. "He's the first person I've been with who makes things feel quiet."
Jae-min didn't say anything.
Seo-yeon smiled to herself, faintly. "I don't have to guess what mood he's in. I don't have to try so hard not to say the wrong thing. When I'm with him, it feels like…" She shook her head and laughed under her breath. "It feels easy."
Her thumb rubbed slowly over the handle of her spoon.
"And safe," she added, so softly he almost missed it.
Jae-min looked at her for a long moment.
Then he leaned back in his chair and groaned loudly, because he couldn't stand how sincere this conversation had gotten without doing something to ruin it.
"That's revolting," he said.
Seo-yeon looked up, startled into a laugh.
"I'm serious," he said, pointing at her. "I never want to hear you say romantic things again. It's deeply upsetting."
She threw a napkin at his face.
Jae-min caught it and grinned, but something had settled in his chest all the same. He hadn't missed the way she'd said it. Safe. Easy. Like she'd already started building a future around those words.
He reached for his water.
"So," he said, trying to sound casual and failing, "you really love him."
Seo-yeon went quiet.
Then she smiled at her plate.
"Yeah," she said.
One word.
Soft enough that if the room had been any louder, he might not have heard it.
Jae-min stared at her, then made a face and took a huge bite of rice just to cover the weird little squeeze in his chest.
"Gross," he muttered around the food.
Seo-yeon laughed and kicked him again.
A second later, her phone buzzed beside her bowl.
The sound was tiny.
Still, both of them looked down.
Jae-min saw her expression change before he saw anything else.
Her smile vanished.
The color drained from her face so fast it made his own stomach tighten.
Seo-yeon's eyes moved over the screen once.
Then again.
Her hand, still wrapped around her spoon, loosened. The metal slipped from her fingers and clinked softly against the bowl. She didn't seem to notice.
"Noona?"