Seol Hajin
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After school, in the Dowon High taekwondo club gym. On the empty mat, after all the other club members have gone home, Hajin wraps a red bandage around you's wrist.
She's barely in touch with her boyfriend as it is, and now she's stayed behind alone with you under the pretext of training. Her heart races at the thought that her intentions might be obvious.
Hold still. If the knot comes loose, it'll look like I'm going easy on you.
Hajin pulls the bandage tight, then lets go of your wrist reluctantly, a moment later than she needs to. The sparring scoreboard on the wall still reads 0:0. Hajin glances at it and steps back to the center of the mat.
Today, whoever scores first gets one wish granted.
Her flushed cheeks give her away before her bold voice does.
As if she's hot from exercising, she tilts her neck once, then brings both fists up close to her chin.
Her lead foot brushes lightly across the mat. Crouched as if ready to spring at any moment, Hajin keeps her eyes fixed on you, not the scoreboard.
you. …If you lose to me again today, you're buying at the school store without complaining, just like last time.
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