Chapter 1: Let's Go On A Date?
Contains: Romance, canon-typical violence, action, friendship, slight angst i guess, mature content (in later chapters), Seongje acting like an ass(?), etc etc...
The first thing Geum Seongje noticed when he saw Hong Iseul for the very first time was the ribbon.
The soft pink bow, tied neatly at the back of her head, gathering half of her hair together, a few loose strands escaping and brushing against her cheeks as if they refused to be tamed. She looked... delicate.
And even more out of place.
There was warmth in her eyes that didn't belong in a room like this โ soft, steady, and stubborn as she stared at the boy sitting across from her, her arms folded across her chest in a way that wasn't defensive, but firm. She looked like she had already decided she wouldn't be moved, no matter what was said to her.
It clashed with everything else around her โ the dim lighting, the suffocating tension, Na Baekjin's sharp gaze at โ and yet, somehow, she didn't shrink under it. If anything, she softened it without even trying to, like a flame that refused to flicker out no matter how strong the wind blew.
Seongje leaned against the doorway at first, cigarette resting lazily between his lips, with the faint glow at its tip the.
He wasn't supposed to be here โ not really. He rarely followed Baekjin's orders unless it was very important or benefited him, and even then, it was more of a suggestion than a rule. So when Baekjin told him to step outside, his body didn't even react.
If anything, he did the opposite.
He pushed himself off the frame and stepped further into the room, uninvited, the scrape of his shoes against the floor cutting through the silence as the smoke curled from his lips, slowly and deliberately seeping into the air.
Iseul blinked, the shift so subtle it could have been missed if he wasn't already watching her so closely. Then her gaze moved, landing on him.
And then their eyes met.
Seongje didn't look away, and neither did she.
His gaze dragged over her face with an ease that bordered on shameless, slow and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to take her in.
From the intensity in her eyes to the soft slope of her nose, to the faint part of her lips as if she was about to say something but stopped herself at the last moment.
It was neither hurried nor polite.
And she felt it.
It settled under her skin, subtle but undeniable, sending a faint shiver down her spine that she tried to ignore, even as her fingers curled slightly against her arms.
When his eyes finally met hers again, there was something different in them now โ sharper, more interested โ and the corner of his mouth lifted just enough to form a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes, but lingered there anyway, already deciding something about her.
"Seongje, I asked you to step out."
Baekjin's voice cut clean through the moment, firm and edged with irritation, snapping the tension just enough to make it shift, but not disappear.
But before Seongje could respond-
"There's no need."
Iseul's voice came in, soft, but steady enough to hold its ground against Baekjin's, threading through the space without raising itself, yet refusing to be overlooked.
She stood up from her chair, the movement smooth and unhurried, like she had already made up her mind long before this moment and was only now choosing to act on it, seeing there was no hesitation in the way she reached for her bag.
"I'm leaving," she stated.
And for some reason, Seongje found himself listening more closely than he should have.
He didn't focus on what she says, rather the steadiness in her tone, the calm that didn't crack even under pressure, the softness that didn't make her weak โ it pulled at something he couldn't quite name, something unfamiliar and irritatingly persistent, like a thought that refused to leave once it had settled in.
He shifted slightly, cigarette still resting between his fingers now, forgotten for a second longer than usual as his gaze stayed on her.
"Iseul," Baekjin called, his voice threading through the heavy air like a chain meant to pull her back.
Her movements halted mid-stride, though she made no effort to turn and face him, her back a wall of resolve that spoke louder than any glance over her shoulder ever could, the pink ribbon in her hair catching the dim light like a fragile flag of defiance amid the room's gathering shadows.
"Think about what I said," he pressed, his tone dropping low, laced with the weight of whatever tangled conversation had unfolded before Seongje's intrusion, each word carrying the subtle pressure of expectations she had no intention of shouldering.
She drew in a deep breath, holding it for a suspended moment as if gathering her patience, then let it out slowly โ an exhale that carried the suppressed frustration.
"I won't, Baekjin," she said, her voice steady, "I don't care whatever you say, but I'm not joining this stupid Union of yours."
A sigh followed, light as mist but heavy with finality, drifting into the space between them like smoke refusing to dissipate.
"And you know how I am," she added, finally turning just enough to glance at his stiff figure, her eyes meeting his with that same serene intensity. "I stand my ground, no matter what you do and try to change it."
Adjusting the bag on her shoulder with a deliberate shift, she turned fully toward the door and left the suffocating room behind, the click of her steps echoing faintly, while the weight of Seongje's dark and unblinking eyes, laced with newfound interest, followed her every movement, tracing the sway of her hair, the ribbon's gentle bounce, until she vanished from sight, leaving Baekjin with a jaw clenched so tight it carved shadows along his face.
Without a word, Seongje threw a sidelong glance at Baekjin, his smirk curling lazy and sharp.
"That went well," he drawled, the sarcasm dripping thick and deliberate.
Despite the growing storm in his chest, Baekjin drew a measured breath, forcing composure over the irritation that clawed at his edges, he slid open his drawer with a soft scrape, pulling out his maths worksheet and bent his head to it, pen scratching equations into existence as if solving them could unravel the knot she'd left behind.
"Follow her and drop her off at her home," he said without looking up, eyes fixed on the worksheet, his voice clipped and the grip on his pen whitening his knuckles as it bit into the paper, betraying the frustration he tried to shove down.
"Was gonna do that anyway," Seongje chuckled, savoring the way Baekjin unraveled so subtly and unnoticeably to anyone else and knowing โ with a thrill that ran through his veins โ that the reason for it all was the very girl who unintentionally drew him out the door with a pull he had no desire to resist.
He followed her out of the bowling alley, the heavy door swinging shut behind him with a dull thud that released her into the sharp bite of the night air, crisp and laced with the faint scent of rain on pavement.
"Iseul," he called out loudly, his voice cutting through the quiet street, making her steps falter in confusion as she paused mid-stride, the cold wind tugging gently at the loose strands of her hair.
She turned slowly, brows furrowing with a mix of bewilderment and wariness, her pink ribbon catching the dim glow from a nearby street lamp as the chill brushed against her cheeks.
He stopped right in front of her, close enough that she could catch the faint smoke clinging to his jacket and the warmth radiating from him against the night's edge, his lips curving into a shit-eating grin that held no trace of kindness or humility, only sharpening her suspicion.
"Geum Seongje," he said with a smirk, extending his hand for a shake while drawing in a deep breath of the cold air, as if savoring the moment stretching between them.
She eyed his hand with open suspicion, her grip tightening on her bag strap until her knuckles paled slightly, a battle flickering in her chest before she let out a soft sigh and reached out, her fingers meeting his in a clasp that felt both firm and fleeting.
"I heard. Hong Iseul," she said, introducing herself even though her voice was hesitant, and she found her gaze lingering on his eyes behind his glasses a beat too long, caught in their steady intensity while his hand held hers just a fraction longer than polite, the warmth of his palm seeping through her skin.
"I know," he nodded, that smirk lingering as he let his eyes trace her face once more, slow and unhurried, unable to pull away from the delicate lines of her features or release the connection of their hands.
Even as she couldn't deny the handsome pull of his sharp jaw and easy confidence, Iseul felt wariness coil tightly inside her, an instinctive shield rising because she understood he was affiliated with none other than Na Baekjin, whose world is the one with shadows and dangers.
Finally, Iseul eased her hand from his grip with an awkward smile tugging at her lips, the lingering warmth of his touch fading into the cool night air as she turned and started walking ahead, her steps quickening slightly along the dimly lit sidewalk edged by parked cars and the distant hum of city life.
Seongje fell into step beside her without a pause, his longer strides matching her pace effortlessly, the faint crunch of gravel under his shoes blending with the soft rhythm of her own.
She glanced at him sideways, confusion knitting her brows as the wind toyed with her hair again. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice carrying a mix of bewilderment and caution, slowing just enough to search his face under the street lights' glow.
"Walking you home," he replied simply, that smirk softening into something almost casual, his hands slipping into his pockets as he kept his gaze ahead, though it flicked back to her with easy amusement.
Iseul stopped for a beat, turning to face him fully, her bag shifting on her shoulder. "You don't have to do that โ I can walk by myself," she said, exasperation creeping into her tone, even as she started moving again, hoping he'd take the hint.
He didn't.
"Come on, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a girl walk alone at night?" he shot back, his voice light but insistent, falling back in beside her with a chuckle that warmed the chill between them. "Streets like these aren't always kind after dark."
She rolled her eyes, her breath visible in the cold air.
Her suspicion flickered back as she shot him a sidelong look, her fingers twisting the strap of her bag as she asked, "Did Baekjin tell you to walk me home?
He met her eyes steadily, the smirk fading into something more genuine, his breath steady despite the cold. "No โ I mean, he did, but I'm doing this because I want to. Not for him."
The words hung there between them, simple yet heavy, pulling at the wary thread of curiosity she'd felt earlier, and she could only sigh exasperatedly, shaking her head as they continued on.
When they finally reached her house โ a modest two-story place, nothing fancy but cozy and comfortable โ she fished her keys from her bag, the metal jingling softly as she stepped toward the gate, already half-turning away.
"Iseul," he suddenly called, his voice pulling her back before she could slip inside, standing a few steps away with his hands tucked deep into his jacket pockets, shoulders relaxed against the night but eyes intent on her.
She turned, brows raised in surprise, the porch light casting a soft halo around her as she waited, heart picking up a notch without knowing why.
"Let's go on a date?" he asked, the words direct and unhurried, hanging in the air like an invitation wrapped in that same confident pull.
"What!?" She exclaimed, her voice pitching up in disbelief, eyes widening as color rushed to her cheeks, the sheer audacity of it hitting her since they'd only just met minutes ago, leaving her shocked.
A Year Later
Iseul collapsed onto the mat with a heavy pant, her chest heaving as sweat clung to her skin and every muscle screamed for mercy. She spread her arms and legs wide like a starfish, too exhausted to even twitch a finger, the cool rubber beneath her being the only thing keeping her from melting into the floor.
"C'mon, Iseul, don't quit on me now," Baku said from beside her, his voice a mix of teasing and encouragement as he sat cross-legged.
He held out a water bottle, the condensation dripping cold onto her arm even though she made no move to take it, her limbs feeling like lead weights sunk deep into the mat.
God, I feel like I'm dying right here, she thought.
Theย throbbing ache through her legs and arms from two straight hours of this torture โ warm-ups that dragged on forever with sneaking in โ maybe thirty minutes โ of dozing with her eyes half-shut, though that's beside the point because who could blame her when the sun's barely up on a Monday morning?
"Why the heck do I have to do this on a Monday morning of all days?" She groaned, her voice muffled against the mat as she buried her face for a second, refusing to even think about dragging herself up for another round of combat drills with Baku.
That dude treats a full on combat like a warm-up while she has never thrown a real punch in her life and she knew deep down she'd crumble like a dry leaf if a fight ever found her.
"Because you need to learn how to defend yourself, you dumbhead," he shot back, already on his feet and reaching down to grab her arm, his grip firm but gentle as he tugged, trying to haul her up like she was some ragdoll he can just yank into action.
"Not happening, no way," she mumbled, clinging to the mat with her free hand, flashing him one of her best smiles that usually melts people like an ice cream on a hot sidewalk โ all wide eyes and sweet tilt of the head โ the one that gets her out of chores or extra homework every time.
"I'd rather just let you fight for me, pretty please?"
But nope, it bounced right off him like water on a duck's back.
Baku is completely immune to my charms, I swear to God, she thought.
His face is set in that stubborn line that said he's not budging an inch, which only made her want to burrow deeper into the mat and hide.
"Not happening, Iseul," he said, shaking his head with a sigh, though his eyes softened just a fraction because that's Baku for you, tough on the outside but always checking if she's really okay underneath.
"What if one day there's no one around to save you? Not even me? You can't just wait for a hero every time."
"Then I'll just admit defeat and call it a day," she exclaimed, propping herself up on her elbows now, the dramatic whine in her voice half-real because her body's screaming at ger to stop.
Especially with the clock ticking towards 7:00 a.m. and school looming like a storm cloud. "Or, you know, die a quick death โ either way, no more of this!"
"You can't do that, Iseul! If you die, who's gonna let me copy off your paper during exams? Who's gonna sneak me those extra snacks? Who's gonna feed me? I'd starve out here all alone!" He said while dropping to his knees beside her in mock horror, clutching his chest like she stabbed him right through the heart.
"Drama queen," she muttered, shaking her head with a laugh bubbling up, finally pushing herself to her feet.
She stretched out her arm like she was about to help him up, only to give his knee a light kick instead, which was not hard but just enough to make her point.
"Ow, Iseul! You monster โ my leg! I'll never walk again!" He groaned loudly and flopped back onto the mat, rolling side to side with his hands over his knee, eyes squeezed shut in exaggerated agony.
"Oh please, I didn't even kick you that hard," she scoffed, flexing her toes because honestly, they stung more than his knee probably does. "You're such a baby sometimes. Get up already."
"Baby? Says the girl who was snoring through warm-ups not even twenty minutes in." He peeked one eye open, grinning through the fake tears.
"I was just meditating! You need to get your ears checked, or maybe an appointment with a psychologist cuz you're hallucinating," she fired back, crossing her arms. "And easy for you to say. You're suspended, remember? No school dragging you down. Some of us actually have to show up looking alive."
Baku finally hauled himself up, brushing off his pants with a dramatic huff, but his smile gave him away, warm and brotherly in a way that made all this morning madness bearable.
"Fine, fine, lazy ass. We're done. But only because I can't survive without your exam cheats, i can't have you dying with exhaustion" he laughed.
She stuck her tongue out again, rolling her eyes, secretly glad for the push, which she'd never admit, because deep down, his worry feels like the kind of care that sticks with you through the ache.
Ahhhh here's the first chapter. I hope it's good though i feel like I ended it lowkey awkwardly?? I'm not sure..Okay, this chapter was previously written in first person pov but then I rewrote it into third person pov, cuz I realised I'm not that good at writing it.
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