Pinned

For the next round, Lee-gang returned to the center of the ring and reset his stance — and the moment he did, Harin began throwing punches again.

As the rounds wore on, she could feel the sweat soaking through, loosening the tape little by little. Her arms hung heavy, her fingertips burned as if they were being scorched, but she had to push deeper, closer, harder.

Yet her mind raced ahead of a body that couldn't keep up. Her footwork tangled, and when her balance gave way, she stumbled.

Her body — one that hadn't stood in a ring for years — finally showed its wear, and that was when Lee-gang's offense began.

His jab came in like a flash of lightning, grazing Harin's cheek before driving a dull, heavy shock into her side.

She didn't dodge. She took it head-on, already preparing her next attack.

As her left hook, riding the rotation of her hips, drove toward his face, his fist found the gap on her right side with brutal precision.

The impact slammed into her shoulder. Her forearm went numb and seized up.

"Ngh…!"

Her shoulder trembled with pain, and her guard collapsed.

Sensing something wrong, Lee-gang backed off. His eyes narrowed as he studied her.

"…What are you doing? We're not done yet."

Gasping for breath, Harin wiped the sweat from her jaw with the back of her hand.

More than two years away from the ring had taken their toll, but her eyes hadn't dimmed. The venom and the fire still burned in that bloodshot glare.

Lee-gang simply stood there, watching her eyes.

When he refused to move, it was Harin who closed the distance first. She couldn't bring herself to admit she was being pushed back. If only she hadn't been injured, a paltry physical gap like this would have been nothing — she would have overcome it easily.

Clutching the unfinished business of her past, she wanted to keep crashing into him until she could see for herself what she had left.

She threw another hook at him, but he ducked under it. And in the next instant, his gloves already stripped off, he seized her arm.

Her vision flipped. Her center of gravity vanished.

"You— son of a—!"

For a split second her body was airborne; then the mat slammed into her. The impact against her lower back knocked the wind clean out of her.

When she opened her eyes, he was straddling her, looking down from above.

"Admit it. You lost."

His roughened breath brushed against her between the words.

Lee-gang slowly leaned down, bracing his left hand beside her head, and locked eyes with her. She could see his shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath, the sweat sheening his nape under the fluorescent lights.

Maybe it was the heat radiating off his body at such close range, or maybe it was his breathing — but her already overheated skin flushed hotter, and her cheeks ignited.

"…This is a foul."

The moment she planted a hand on the floor to push herself up, his right hand clamped around both her wrists and pinned them. Handcuffed — that was what it felt like. She couldn't move an inch.

"If I didn't do this, you were just going to keep using that shoulder. Like an idiot."

The more Harin struggled, the tighter his grip bore down. The heavy pressure traveling from her wrists up her arms made it hard even to breathe.

"What's my shoulder to you?"

When his relentless gaze stabbed into her right shoulder, Harin — raw and hypersensitive there — lifted her eyes and glared up at him.

But far from shrinking back, he looked down at her with a strange expression on his face and slowly relaxed the hand that had her pinned.

Seizing her chance, Harin twisted her body — but his hand was one step ahead, catching the zipper of her jacket and dragging it down.

"How about now? Still going to deny it?"

His fingers peeled the fabric aside like he was flinging open a curtain, and Harin's shoulder — wrapped in tape — lay bare.

Stripped of any chance to hide it, Harin could only lie there on the floor and throw him a look of silent, festering resentment.

Lee-gang's eyes fixed on her right shoulder. His gaze wavered. His face was a tangle of fury and disbelief.

"…What the hell is this."

It was worse than he'd imagined. The hands that had been nothing but rough all night turned careful, brushing over the taped shoulder.

From the moment he released both her hands, the shoulder that had been hiked up toward her ears sank back into place, and a deep, dull ache came swelling up with it.

Harin clenched her teeth and tried to endure it, but his face hung so close above her shoulder.

"Ha…."

Her breath tangled, and a suppressed sound slipped out of her before she could stop it.

Lee-gang's face went rigid for an instant. Exhaling hard through his nose, making no effort to hide his discomfort, he let his gaze slide slowly down from her shoulder.

Over the tangled strands of her hair, the sweat-damp line of her throat and collarbone, and the curve that unfurled beneath them, his eyes sank heavily downward.

He parted his lips as if to say something, then closed them again. After a moment's hesitation, he slowly pulled back. The thick heat that had draped over them went cold in an instant.

Harin scrambled up, yanking her clothes back into place, and peeled the gloves off her hands. Sweat had left them sticky.

"Your shoulder — what happened to it?"

He asked with a studied seriousness, and Harin began rummaging for a lie. In the silence, their eyes met and clashed, and something strange crackled in the air between them. She couldn't find an answer, could only stand there breathing hard—

Riiing—

The phone she'd left on the bench began to ring.

Relieved to have an excuse to escape the suffocating atmosphere, Harin hurried over and picked up.

The screen showed the home number, so she'd assumed it would be her grandmother — but the voice on the other end wasn't hers.

"Oh — yes. Mrs. Go."

Harin cleared her throat and forced herself to answer calmly.

"What? Why — what happened?"

The question came out with a tremor she couldn't quite hide.

Through the receiver, she could hear Hayul sniffling in the background.

Her heart was pounding like a drum. How bad did it have to be for that timid little kid to run next door for help? Bad enough that they'd called an ambulance? Was her grandmother's life in danger? A thousand thoughts crashed over her at once.

The wail of an ambulance siren bled through, and the call cut off with a click. Harin stood clutching the phone, drained of all strength.

Grandma… Hayul… the hospital….

Still gripping the phone, she spun in place, helpless. Her mind was a jumble. Her legs kept starting to move on their own and then freezing; her lips were so dry the words wouldn't come out right.

"I — a cab…."

She stumbled out of the gym first, thinking she might flag down a taxi.

"Jang Harin!"

His voice chased her out from behind, but she only kept walking, glancing around with a blank face.

Then Lee-gang snatched her wrist.

"Hey!"

His eyes — a mix of irritation and worry — bored straight into her, and it felt as though a little light finally cut through the fog banking her mind.

"Do you know what time it is? You won't catch a cab around here."

At those words, Harin bit her lip, breath coming in ragged pulls.

"My grandmother collapsed, she can't get up, I have to get to the hospital now. Hayul's all alone—"

The words came out in panicked fragments, but Lee-gang understood.

"Ha…."

He let out a frustrated breath and sprinted straight back into the gym. A moment later, he emerged holding a set of car keys.

When he approached the black sedan parked in front of the gym, it blinked and chirped, and the engine turned over. Lee-gang rolled down the passenger window.

"I'll drive you. Get in. Now."

It was an unfamiliar tone. Nothing like his usual flippancy — low, serious, almost an order.

Harin got in without a word.

A moment later, Lee-gang began accelerating hard.

"Seatbelt."

The sharp voice cut in from beside her. With trembling hands, Harin fumbled the belt across her body and clicked it home.

Lee-gang gripped the wheel with one hand. The veins standing out on the back of it looked, absurdly, anxious.

Harin turned her face away and forced down the breath that kept surging up her throat.

When they merged onto the highway, the streetlights swept past — once, twice — each flare of light streaking and vanishing, and with every frantic blink her dread only deepened.

"Grandma's dizzy. I'm turning in early."

Those words her grandmother had said just days ago gouged at her. Why hadn't she noticed then? Was she really that sick?

She can't be sick. Without Grandma… what am I supposed to—

Her whole body went rigid, trembling down to her fingertips.

From the driver's seat, Lee-gang glanced over. He caught the fine tremor running through the shoulders of the girl with her head bowed, and his brow furrowed as he pressed down on the accelerator.

The engine growled low, and the car tore all the more violently through the dark.