Chapter Text
Seulgi’s breath ghosted white in the night air before thinning into nothing.
She shoved her hands deeper into the pockets of her branded parka, pulling it tighter around her. The rest of her team filed off the bus and into the hotel behind her- laughing, full from the pre-game meal, already thinking about sleep and the game ahead of them.
A chance at defending their national title.
Seulgi's first chance at winning one.
She was extatic- no, that wasn't the right word. She was hungry. To prove herself, to establish herself as a competitor on the national scale, especially at such a young age. There was only one as good as her in all of Korea.
"Yoo Jaeyi."
The foot traffic had thinned around them, Seulgi's team disappearing, leaving her behind. She didn't mind. She wanted to talk to the woman alone.
Jaeyi turned with the lazy confidence of someone used to being called by name.
A fitted running top clung to her frame, gloves pulled tight, cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion alike. Heat still rose from her, steam curling faintly into the dark.
It was Seulgi’s first time seeing her up close like this. They’d played against each other, sure, but everything was different on the field. And on screen, all that Seulgi saw was the talented Chaehwa striker and daughter of a national treasure.
Jaeyi was talented, and she knew it. Rumor had it, she had a tendency to make it everybody else's problem.
She removed a headphone and eyed Seulgi, waiting.
"Do you want an autograph?"
Seulgi chuckled, forcing her shoulders back. “No. I'm not a fan- well-" she paused. "I am, but I'm also a competitor." She stepped forward, more into the light on the side of the hotel. "I play for Hanguk university. My name is-"
“I know your name,” Jaeyi interrupted. “Everybody knows.”
Seulgi’s heart pounded in her chest. "Don't flatter me."
“I don’t waste energy flattering people,” Jaeyi said. “And you shouldn’t waste yours on humility.” Her gaze didn’t flicker. “You rattled a lot of people when you were put on the starting roster.”
Jaeyi didn’t look away.
Neither did Seulgi.
She tilted her head, curiosity edging past caution. “Did it rattle you?”
Jaeyi shook her head. “You were the obvious choice.”
For a moment, Seulgi almost asked why. What Jaeyi had seen. How closely she’d been watching. Whether she’d studied Seulgi the same way Seulgi had studied her—footage, interviews, patterns, tells.
She didn’t.
Silence stretched, taut as a pulled line.
“Well,” Seulgi said at last, swallowing. “It should be a good match tomorrow. Congratulations on making the final.” A beat. “And… good luck.”
She held out her hand.
Jaeyi looked at it for a moment longer than necessary before taking it, her grip firm, unyielding. Warm. Alive with strength.
“You won’t be so polite tomorrow,” Jaeyi said calmly. “When we strip Hanguk of its title.”
Seulgi huffed out a quiet laugh, more reflex than amusement, and eased her hand back into her pocket. “Maybe not,” she said. Then, meeting Jaeyi’s eyes at last, “But I mean it anyway.”
Jaeyi studied her for another second- something like interest flickering there, sharp and brief.
“We’ll see.”
The December air stung every inch of exposed skin.
Every breath puffed into the air, every drop of sweat cooling, every muscle aching.
Her core burned hot, though- with exertion, and with that same hunger she felt last night. Every woman on the field felt it. Seulgi could see it in their eyes, could hear it in their breaths, could feel it in the air.
It was the essence of soccer.
It was why they played.
Seulgi tugged at her ankle, stretching out her quad as the pregame buzz thickened around her. Cleats scraped, laughter burst and died, the field alive with anticipation.
A presence slid into her periphery.
Jaeyi stood beside her, hands on her hips, gaze cool and appraising.
“Was it everything you imagined?” Jaeyi asked, eyes fixed somewhere over the field, pointedly not on Seulgi.
Seulgi resisted the urge to scoff. She glanced around first, instinctively, making sure none of her teammates were paying attention. “You’re a freshman,” she said. “It’s your first nationals too. Don’t act like you’ve been here longer than me.”
Jaeyi’s mouth curved, slow and deliberate. Like she’d been waiting for that.
“I meant getting ready to play on the same field as me.” She turned then, finally, eyes flicking to Seulgi’s face. “You’re a fan, aren’t you?”
“I’ve played on the same field as you before,” Seulgi said flatly.
Jaeyi hummed. “And lost.”
“It was an off game.”
“A loss is a loss.”
“We won’t lose this time,” Seulgi said. “And I’m not your fan when I’m on the field.”
There was no hesitation in it. No room for play.
Jaeyi hummed, gaze dropping to the white line at their feet. Technically, still not on the field.
Seulgi followed her eyes, then deliberately stepped forward, cleats crossing the line, planting herself in the grass. Her heart kicked hard in her chest- not from nerves, but from something like defiance.
Jaeyi’s smirk widened, amused. Interested.
“Cute,” she said. “You’re serious about this.”
“I’m trying to focus,” Seulgi replied. “This is an important game. Shouldn’t you be with your team instead of hovering over here trying to get under my skin?”
Jaeyi tilted her head. “Is it working?”
Seulgi shot her a look. “It’s not good sportsmanship.”
“Ah.” Jaeyi nodded, thoughtful. “You feel disrespected.”
Seulgi scowled. This time, it landed.
“It’s about respect for the game,” she snapped. “I don’t care whether you respect me.”
"I do respect you," Jaeyi said, plain and simple. "And when we're off the field. Later tonight- after I beat you- I hope you'll still be my fan. It gives me a reason to work hard."
“If you need external validation to work hard, you don’t have discipline,” Seulgi fired back.
Jaeyi scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re a walking motivational poster.” Her gaze softened, just a fraction. “Everybody wants to be known, Woo Seulgi.”
The whistle cut sharp through the air.
Jaeyi turned immediately toward center field, calling out to the ref, motioning for the captains. She started back toward her huddle, all confidence and clean lines and infuriating ease.
Then she stopped.
She looked back at Seulgi once more, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.
“Good luck,” she said, formal now, deliberate. A nod. “You’ll need it.”
The whistle cut clean through the air, and the stadium erupted.
Seulgi glanced up at the jumbotron and barely recognized herself- face slick with sweat, jersey streaked with grass and dirt, mouth set hard. She looked feral. Earned. The kind of exhaustion she trusted.
This was how games were supposed to be won.
Except they weren’t winning.
At halftime, the score glared back at her: 0–1. The knowledge curdled in her stomach, sharp and sour, tightening her chest in a way the cold never could.
It wasn’t just that it was the final.
It was that she knew exactly why they were behind.
Yoo Jaeyi.
She watched her wave at the fans on her way to the tunnel, trailing behind her team. Not in a hurry- completely and utterly at ease.
Seulgi had spent her whole life fighting for that feeling.
“Seulgi, let’s go!”
She broke into a jog with the rest of the team, down the tunnel and into the locker room. A water bottle was pressed into her hands; she drank until her throat burned. Someone draped a jacket over her shoulders. She shuddered, tugging it closed, breath still coming hard.
“Zero–one,” the coach said, voice steady. “It's far from over, you all know this. It's an opportunity for a comeback.”
Murmurs went around the room- agreement, motivation. Seulgi grit her jaw.
“Their striker- Jaeyi. She’s dangerous,” he continued. “I don’t want her breathing near our box. Man-to-man whenever she crosses midfield. No space. No mercy.”
"Yes, coach," the center back nodded.
“And Seulgi.”
She looked up.
“Keep doing what you’re doing. Pressure their defense. Make them work for every touch. Be smart, but be hungry.”
She nodded. "Yes, coach."
Hunger wasn’t the problem.
She wanted it. Wanted to take the air out of the stadium and leave nothing but her name behind.
And she wanted to be the one to stop Yoo Jaeyi.
To take that certainty from her.
To put her down.
Seulgi pushed open the door to the hotel's pool and was immediately hit with a wave of chlorine and condensation. Every step ached as she padded across the tile towards the hot tub, then stopped short.
Yoo Jaeyi was already sitting inside.
She was stretched out in the hot tub, arms draped along the edge, dark hair damp and slicked back, a glass of something golden sat close, ice bobbing gently. When the door shut behind Seulgi, Jaeyi lifted her head lazily, eyes sharpening the moment they landed on her.
“Are you following me now, Woo Seulgi?”
Seulgi tightened her grip on her towel. “No,” she said, evenly. “It’s a public pool.”
Seulgi hesitated- just long enough to feel ridiculous for it- then stepped forward. She lowered herself into the water on the opposite side, setting her towel down with deliberate care, keeping as much distance between them as the tub allowed. The heat sank into her muscles, loosening.
She let out an involuntary sigh.
“I would congratulate you,” Jaeyi said casually, “if I didn’t hate you.”
The bluntness startled a laugh out of Seulgi. Jaeyi didn’t join her. Her eyes stayed locked on Seulgi’s face, unblinking.
“It was a good match,” Seulgi said, the words sounding thin even to her own ears. “Chaehwa fought hard.”
Jaeyi tilted her head. “Would you be saying that if you’d lost?”
Seulgi considered it. Honestly.
“No,” she admitted. “I’d probably be sulking.”
“Thought so.”
Seulgi shifted, studying her through the steam. “Then what does it say about you,” she asked, “that when you thought you’d win, you wanted me as a fan, but now that I beat you, you hate me?”
Jaeyi leaned back against the tile, eyes drifting closed for a second. “Says I don’t like losing,” she murmured. Then she opened them again, gaze sharp. “And that I’m not going to pretend I enjoy losing to you.”
"Nobody likes losing," Seulgi said. "It's just sportsmanship."
"Losing is awful," Jaeyi agreed. "Losing to you is worse."
“I thought you respected me.”
“I do,” Jaeyi said easily. “You’re still a people-pleaser. And I still hate you.”
Seulgi laughed again, softer this time. There was no real venom in it—just bruised pride, sharp edges, and something almost playful beneath it all. Jaeyi’s indignation was… compelling. Seulgi found herself wanting to poke at it just to see what would happen.
“So,” she said, leaning an elbow against the edge of the tub, “what would I have to do to make you stop hating me? I’m asking out of curiosity. Not because I need your approval.”
Jaeyi studied her, brow furrowing like she was weighing a real proposition. “I haven’t decided yet,” she said finally. “I think I’ll stop hating you when I beat you again. It felt good the first time.”
“We won’t play each other for a while,” Seulgi pointed out. “That’s a lot of time to hold a grudge.”
Jaeyi’s gaze flicked briefly to Seulgi’s mouth, then back to her eyes. “I have great stamina.”
Seulgi’s breath hitched before she could stop it. She nodded once. “For what it’s worth,” she said, “I’m still a fan.”
“I thought you might be.”
“You’re arrogant,” Seulgi said. “You know that?”
“I do,” Jaeyi replied, unbothered. “And you’re-"
"A people pleaser, I get it," Seulgi interrupted. "I don't think it’s a bad thing to be aware of how people talk about me,” she countered. “Or to want the narrative around my name to be positive.”
“Because of your brand deals?”
“Because I’m not an asshole.”
Jaeyi considered that, then nodded. “Sure.”
She lifted her glass and took a slow drink, eyes never leaving Seulgi. When she set it down, she spoke casually, like the words didn’t carry any weight at all.
“If you care,” she said, “I’m pleased. Talking to you.”
Seulgi looked up.
“You please me,” Jaeyi added, then smiled.
Heat rushed to Seulgi’s cheeks, far more intense than the water could explain.
“And,” Jaeyi added, her eyes dark and intent, “you play better when I'm under your skin.”
"Who said you were under my skin?"
"You didn't have to say it. I felt it." Jaeyi leaned in. "You felt disrespected when I talked to you before the start of the game."
"I told you, I don't care about your respect. But distracting me was-" she paused, watching Jaeyi smirk. There she was, doing it again. "Forget it."
Seulgi rolled her eyes, but heat crept up her neck anyway. She leaned back, closing her eyes, telling herself to relax. To ignore the woman across from her. She heard the soft sound of ice clinking against her glass, then felt eyes on her.
She opened one of her eyes and- as expected- came face to face with Jaeyi. She’d moved closer. Not by much, but by enough.
“What?” Seulgi asked.
“Do you want to go to a bar with me, Woo Seulgi?”
“A bar?” Seulgi scoffed. “That’s your idea of a recovery?”
“It’s one of them.”
“I already told you. I don’t drink,” Seulgi responded easily. “Especially not with the enemy.”
“See, I’d understand the sentiment if you lost the national title to me, but you didn’t. And I’d understand the ‘not drinking’ thing if you were in season, but you’re not. So?”
Seulgi narrowed her eyes. “Are you flirting with me?”
Jaeyi blinked, genuinely surprised. Then- “Would it be so terrible if I was?”
Heat rushed to Seulgi’s face. “I’m not gay.”
Jaeyi tilted her head. “Going for a drink isn’t a marriage contract.” Her gaze flicked down, then back up, deliberate. “Besides—you’re the one who followed me into a hot tub. And you’re flushed bright red.” She leaned in, arrogance settling comfortably across her features. “It’s obvious you want me.”
Seulgi sputtered, pressing a hand to Jaeyi’s shoulder and pushing her back—controlled, restrained, necessary. “I’m in a hot tub,” she snapped. “That’s why I’m flushed.”
“Are you sure,” Jaeyi murmured, unfazed, “it’s not because you’re thinking about something strange?”
Seulgi’s mouth went dry. Her gaze betrayed her, dropping to Jaeyi’s lips before she yanked it back up. Jaeyi noticed. Of course she did. She looked pleased—like she’d just scored again.
Annoyance flared, sharp and sudden. Seulgi searched for something cutting, something that would wipe that smug look right off her face.
Instead, she said, “We’re in a public pool.”
Her smile sharpened. “So you are thinking about it.”
“It’s a public pool,” Seulgi repeated, pushing Jaeyi back by the shoulders—firmly this time. “Enough.”
“It’s empty.”
“I don’t care,” Seulgi said, even as her body betrayed her, heat pooling low and insistent. She stood abruptly, water streaming down her legs, and grabbed her towel.
Behind her, Jaeyi’s voice followed- smooth, unhurried, infuriatingly calm.
“If you change your mind about being gay,” she called, “I’m in room 1441.”
Seulgi paused. Just for a heartbeat. Then she glanced back over her shoulder.
Arrogant.