Kissed Against the Ropes

Without a bell to start the round, she was the one who broke the silence first, as always. Tap, tap — she struck the tip of Lee-gang's glove, easing into a feel-out exchange.

Harin moved on her feet, and for the first time in what felt like ages, her body felt light, as if the rhythm had come back to her.

And yet, something was off.

She deliberately spread her guard, offering up an opening as a provocation — but he refused to dive into it. His defensive footwork was as nimble as ever, but this time, unlike before, he never threw the finishing blow. It almost seemed like he was stepping back on purpose. He clearly knew her right shoulder was the weak point, yet all he threw from that side was a half-hearted jab, never pressing the attack.

It puzzled her. Harin took a long step back, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

Was he playing house, or just goofing off? His refusal to take the sparring seriously sent irritation smoldering up through her.

"You haven't attacked properly this whole time."

He rolled his eyes and let his guard drop.

"I lost."

He said it so flatly, like a simple verdict, that she found herself with nothing to say — she just stared at him, dumbfounded. His face had gone bored as he pulled off his gloves.

Inside her own gloves, Harin's fists clenched tight. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was looking down on her because of her injury.

"…Then fight me properly. Like last time."

"Boxing alone, I can't beat you."

Lee-gang said it with perfect composure, but to Harin the words landed like a taunt. You pressed me hard enough last time, and now you're tucking your tail?

None of it made sense. Was he saying that if they went at it in something other than boxing, he wouldn't go easy on her — that he'd take it seriously?

Harin frowned, her gaze tracing the broad sweep of his shoulders — the line of them that had always grated on her. The air of *varsity athlete* clinging to those shoulders needled at her nerves in a way she couldn't quite name.

"So you did do sports."

"Only just figured that out?"

"Which one?"

"Keep going at it like this, and you'll find out sooner or later."

At that unhelpful answer, Harin decided not to press further. Instead, she replayed the moment from their sparring days ago — the way he had taken her down.

He had pulled her arm in and swept her leg. What technique was that? Judo? Jiu-jitsu? Hapkido?

Their bodies had tangled and gone down together. The weight of him against her shoulder, the heat of his breath soaking into her skin — it all came creeping back, detail by detail.

Somehow, she felt a little disappointed. If she'd grappled with him a little longer, lingered a little more, maybe she could have read his movements — learned something more about him.

Harin bit and released her lip over and over as she slowly peeled off her gloves. Wiping the cold sweat from her hands on her clothes, she turned her back to him.

In that moment, Lee-gang's gaze slid slowly down the line of her neck.

The nape bared beneath her tightly bound hair, stray strands brushing across that pale skin. The tight tank top clung to her upper body, tracing her figure without reserve. The red flush creeping over her ears stole his attention. Watching her hesitate there in one spot, Lee-gang tilted his head, quietly taking her in.

Harin, oblivious to his stare, sank into her own thoughts.

"Keep going at it like this, and you'll find out sooner or later."

Did that mean he intended to keep sparring with her from now on? Not that she had anything to complain about. Sharpening her boxing instincts against a live opponent was nothing but good for her.

It was only that his excessive accommodation of her felt insulting and uncomfortable for someone who'd trained as a pro. Not attacking an exposed opening on her injured right side — fine, she could grant that much conscience. He'd told her to pay her hospital bill back in sweat and sparring, and then ended the fight before her body was even properly warmed up.

Was it pity, or consideration? She couldn't tell how much of it was sincere.

She was staring blankly, reaching for the rope to step down from the sparring platform, when a low voice brushed past her ear.

"What — disappointed?"

Harin jolted and clapped a hand over her ear. The tip of it, where his breath had touched, burned hot.

"What the—!"

She whipped her head around, and his face — already inches from hers — filled her vision.

Shock and bewilderment tangled together, and her fist swung out on pure reflex. He caught the fingertips slicing through empty air with ease. And then his leg hooked between hers.

Determined not to fall for the same pattern of attack as last time, Harin dropped straight down where she stood. Lee-gang closed in tight, her upper body tipping backward at an angle, and the ring ropes shuddered.

The instant she opened her mouth to demand what the hell he thought he was doing, his breath was on her — and her lips were swallowed whole.

The soft weight of flesh pushed sudden and uninvited into her mouth. Harin startled and arched back — but the springy ropes of the sparring platform had no more give to spare.

"Hnngh—!"

Through the sliver of a gap she finally found, she dragged in a choked breath — and in that very instant he pressed closer still, denying her lips even a moment's escape.

Harin's mind went white. Dizzy. She felt as if she were inhaling nothing but heat instead of oxygen. Was that why her body was burning up?

"Haa…"

Through the parted gap, he exhaled a thin breath, then sealed his mouth over hers again.

Harin's fists balled tight. She was going to suffocate. When she decided she couldn't take any more, she grabbed hold of her reason and forced strength into her hands and arms — and shoved hard against his chest.

"Pwah…! Haa… haa…"

As he pulled away, the breath that had been on the verge of breaking came tearing out of him, ragged and rough.

Harin gulped down air and lifted her head, glaring at Lee-gang with eyes full of confusion and accusation. In the empty air between them, their gazes clashed hard.

"What?"

He traced his wet lips with the tip of his tongue and asked it simply.

Harin meant to demand what he thought he was doing — but the moment their eyes met, her chest heaved. What actually came out was closer to a petulant mutter.

"I can't breathe…"

Lee-gang looked down at her and laughed low in his throat.

"Breathe through your nose."

Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, he dipped his head again. His lips, red and glistening, touched hers in a whisper.

"Tell me if you don't want it."

For all the softness of his voice, the hand cradling the back of her head was threading unmistakably, deliberately into her hair.

Her heart plummeted. The thought that she couldn't let herself be swept along like this was the only thing that held her in place.

Strength flooded into her body of its own accord. Harin raised the pair of hands that had been hanging uselessly at her sides, squeezed her eyes shut, and set her jaw.

"S-stop it!"

Her two palms caught Lee-gang's face and pushed it back.

Cheeks blazing, Harin stared at him through ragged breaths, her eyes a mess of confusion. With him away from her, the stagnant hot air seemed to cool by several degrees.

Lee-gang, frozen mid-approach with his forehead and lips still caught in her grip, simply blinked, slow and unbothered.

Harin did her best to look composed — but the breath she tried to let out evenly trembled thin, and her eyes wouldn't stop wavering.

Lee-gang studied her look for a long moment. Then he tilted his head slightly, aimed at the fingers gripping his face — and flicked his tongue out against them.

The warm, soft touch landing on her cold, taut fingers startled Harin so badly she snatched her hand back.

"Wh-what are you doing…!"

Shuddering, she seized the ring ropes and sidestepped away in an awkward shuffle. Lee-gang's face turned mischievous.

"Running away?"

For all his words, he didn't press her further or force anything. Instead he rose obediently and drew back from her.

"…Why are you like this with me?"

Harin asked it at the back of his head. He, halfway to stepping down from the sparring platform, stopped and turned. His eyebrow twitched, as if to say, you really don't know?

"Because you keep looking me over like you want me."

Harin could only stare at him, face slack with disbelief. He stretched out one long leg and stepped lightly down off the platform, the picture of indifference.

Harin's head hung low. She couldn't bring herself to fire back a denial — she had, after all, caught herself studying him more than once.

But when she'd looked at him, it was only because he was handsome, because he was a rare sight in this backwater corner of the world. She hadn't been peeking at him like some pervert, the way he implied.

"By the way—"

Somewhere along the way, Lee-gang had come around to the side where Harin sat slumped. He spoke up, and she lifted her eyes to look at him. His strangely smiling gaze met hers through the ring ropes.

"You've never been kissed before, have you."