(Y/N) POV:

"Oh look~ my very own saesang." Jin's voice trills, a wide grin on his face as he walks over to the courtside, catching the bottle to his chest, not quite so catching the towel to his face, spluttering as he drags it down sweaty, flushed skin.

"That's not very adoring fan of you."

"I thought saesangs were obsessive fans."

"Ah~ so you know you're obsessed." he teases, dabbing up his face and neck, flushed despite the chill. Pink cheeks and beading sweat despite the cold, cold wintery air.

"Dream on Jin."

"If you weren'twould you be freezing that cute ass off watching me train outside?"

"You asked me-you told me I had to come!"

"I am bossy like that. Demanding... never had complaints." a teasing quirk to his mouth, eyes flashing as his grin deepens.

"Oh fuck off." I laugh.

"I don't think I will. And disappoint my fan? When she's so right to be obsessed with me?"

"Talk about being big-headed."

"Talk about being big? (Y/N)! There's a time and place for that kind of conversation."

"You're insufferable." rolling my eyes at him, watching the amusement in his face morph into a smug, preening expression, lashes fluttering as he places a hand to his chest, lips jutting out. Pouty soft.

"You love me."

"I tolerate you."

"You love me."

"Oh my god is that what it feels like to be Jungkook?"

"I don't know whether to feel offended or pleased."

"Take it as a compliment-kindred spirits you and I Jin."

"Cos, we live to mess with each other?"

"Bingo. You're good with the racquet."

"I've been told I'm good with my hands."

"You're fast too."

"Is that your indirect way of commenting on my stamina too?

"Can you shut up for one second and let me say you're a good tennis player?" I sigh, exasperated, already knowing that the stretching grin and preening, satisfied look on his face is all too familiar.

But usually, it's on my face and Koo's doing the sighing.

Oh, how the tables turn.

"Sorry, sorry my bad... go on... tell me how great I am." nudging me along with his racquet to flop down beside me, sprawling across the bench. The lines and angles of his body sprawled wide, eyes tracing the line of sweat trickling down from his temple, down his jaw and trailing down the line of his throat.

I blink.

Stupid. Stupidly attractive.

"You're alright at playing tennis I guess."

"Just alright?" Incredulous.

"I'll have you know I'm more than alright... you'll be seeing me at the Olympics." he puffs with a righteous air.

"Winter Olympics for me and Summer Olympics for you? Sounds like a plan to conquer the year." I grin, the thought sparking a fizzing giddy exhilaration.

"Damn right. So, my playing is more than alright." he sniffs pointedly.

"Sure ... I could do without the moaning and grunting though."

"And leave you with nothing to fantasise about? Alone at night?"

"Who said I'm alone at night?"

"Your hand doesn't count as company."

"You piece of shit--"

"Ah ... that's not how you speak to your elders." he tuts.

"And how should I be speaking to the wise and aged?"

"With respect brat. Or next time I won't invite you to watch me train."

"Wouldn't that just save me from freezing my ass off?"

"And miss out on the noises? Sure you wanna miss that show?"

"I'm sure I'll live."

"Well why don't you actually play with me? I've always got a spare racquet." But there's a listlessness, a lack of willpower to actually bring myself to get up and train or move.

"As easy as it looks like it could be... I think that's your talent." I shrug.

And I watch the teasing look on his face flush warm and pleased, grin softening at the corners.

"Figure skating's protégé can't pick up a skill or two? You're already fast on the ice... imagine how fast you'll be off the ice with solid ground."

"I don't think my hand-eye coordination is great."

"Let me beat your ass sometime at Mario Kart...make it a hobby enough and your coordination will improve." Jin teases, slugging down water, breaths slightly labored with laughter and exertion.

Even though it's winter, the heat seeps off him warms my side.

"So... gaming with you will make me a pro tennis player?"

"Don't know about pro but it'll be a start-tennis is great cardio."

I muse over the words. Cardio other than just running daily.

"Can we use the indoor courts?"

An arm slings around me, drags me heavily backwards, the two of us nearly toppling off the bench with the weighted pull of his arm around me. Our balances teetering.

"Anything you want... though I figured you'd like the cold ice princess."

"Don't call me that!"

"Why not? Hobi showed me some of your old competition clips-it's your title."

"It's cold."

"It's cool." Jin corrects.

"What's your title?"

"Prince of tennis. WWH... you name it."

"WWH?"

"Worldwide handsome. I serve in tennis and looks wouldn't you agree princess? Makes us a perfect match."

"You're too good to be my match. You got your shit together."

"So do you. I didn't realise how insane figure skating could be... I can see why you've got your own fan club... and why Hobi runs it." Jin laughs softly but there's a marveling impressed look in his eyes.

"It feels that way but I... I don't." a flicker of uncertainty bleeds in, unbidden and sudden.

"I couldn't... I woke up and I knew I needed to train and practice today but I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to skate."

"Is that why you called me?"

"Kook's doing a dance class with Hobi, and he deserves a day off from me yknow and I just-"

A finger pokes my side. Scolding and rebuking without saying.

Stare pointed; eyes narrowed with a slight hint of warning.

"You're getting into your head again."

"I don't do it a lot-what do you mean again?"

"You sometimes... sometimes seem to drift. Before centering yourself again."

"I just-I like being around people rather than..."

"Being alone. Which is good." Words encouraging, voice warmer.

Jin sets down the bottle, fiddling with the hem of his shorts before his gaze turns towards me. Earnest and blazing with a truth and strength in them that bolsters something inside me. That makes that sense of uncertainty seep from my body, drain away under the look of resolve in his stare.

"It might not feel that way, but things get better. Things get rough but they do get better too (Y/N). I promise that." knee nudging against mine, balance righted, hand brushing down the loosened line of my spine.

"Do they? Cos it feels like I've got my shit together 90% of the time and I really don't give a fuck about Park--" his name leaves an ashy, poisoned aftertaste in my mouth. Flames and bitterness. Heat and corrosiveness. Ugly and decayed and burnt down. Nothing but ashes left of us.

But the name still sticks on my tongue regardless, gets stuck in my throat. Chokes the breath there.

As if sensing the acrid bitterness left on my tongue, as if Jin senses the way the smile on my face plummets, turns brittle and crumbles away, the arm around me squeezes gently.

A hollow, aching cavernous emptiness that stretches open wide with a sense of despair and then one that's swallowed back up again. Bitterness down my lungs. Forcing the welling surge of pain-ache-misery and letting it be consumed whole by the burning fury-resentment that prickles as it inches up my throat.

Because he doesn't deserve it, he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve anything but my anger and rage.

"10% of the time you want to scream and rage though... I don't know what Park's problem was (Y/N) but it sounds like he wasn't confident and that backfired on both of you. I got the solution though." Jin says so assuredly, hand looping around my wrist to tug me up alongside him, body stumbling to stand at the sudden pull of a hand at mine.

"And what's that?"

"Busy today?"

"I asked you to hang out with me-"

"Let's go to a rage room and then grab dinner."

"A rage room?" I echo, bemused.

"Are you mad at him?"

"Yeah."

"Are you unable to train cos he's pissed you off?"

"Yeah."

"Is the reason you can't be asked to skate today is cos today Park's on the mind?"

"...yeah."

"Then be angry properly ice princess-do I need to teach you that?"

"I know how to get angry!" I retort.

The hand at my wrist squeezes lightly once before falling away.

Grinning unrepentantly at the way my voice rises with indignation, with a spark of insistence.

"I don't mean that cute little tantrum you're tryna throw."

"I'll show you cute Kim Seokjin-"

"Okay. Show me. Let's get the others too."

"Why? Want me to go mad in front of all of you?"

"No... so I can get Hobi to pay the entrance fee."

"Stingy."

"Do you want to pay-"

"Hobi's good."

[......]

Sweat and exhilaration feel different when it comes from training and it feels very, very different when it comes from standing in the aftermath of a room shattered and torn apart, tugging the goggles off my head. Watching with shaky, raw breaths the damage left in our wake.

Koo's grinning, wide and eyes sparking with a sharp brightness. And his eyes meet mine across the scattered remains of broken vases and shattered ceramics.

"We should come here more."

"Damn-that's some workout." Hobi grins, breathless as he lets the hammer fall to the ground with a loud clatter.

Broken shards that crunch underfoot as he picks his way over, smile flushed.

"Feeling better princess?"

Tugging off the protective gloves, fingers reaching to absently carding through the tousled mess of my hair, smoothening them out. My head turns back, nodding as my lips stretch wide, grinning at him.

Heart hammering behind my ribs, blood singing and roaring with a surging wave of satisfaction.

"Loads. Thanks Jin."

Anger and resentment gone from mind, expelled into the shattered remains of the rage room. As if the anger's been wrung out of me, leaving that pleasantly drained and tired feeling, limbs well worn out, mind blissfully blank.

"Any time. In fact, cos you're so relaxed-how bout you pay for dinner?"

"Yknow what Jin? Just this once."

Behind him, Koo and Hobi whoop loudly.

And that phantom pressure in my chest fades entirely from thought.

------------------

"How've you still got energy? No!" Kook grumbles, yanking his duvet up to his chin, tucking himself further into his self-made burrito.

Expression distinctly huffing as he frowns at me.

"Oh, but Kooooooo-" I begin, hovering at the threshold of his dorm room, peering in at him.

"No! I'm not getting out of bed-it's freezing outside!"

"We skate in sub-zero temperatures all the time!"

"I'm not going for a run in the dark when it's meant to frost overnight."

"We'll bundle up."

"(Y/N)." a firm no-nonsense tone to his voice, stare unyielding.

"Get your ass into bed."

"Oh, but Koo I wanted to-"

The pile of blankets on the bed shuffle as he moves, hand darting out to grip the edge of his duvet and yank it open slightly.

"Get in."

My body dithers.

Eyes turning to glance longingly towards the door.

"I'm not dressed for bed, I'm dressed for a run."

"Which is stupid cos you're not freezing to death out there... and I'm definitely not joining you. Guess you gotta change."

Reluctantly, I shuck off my shoes, padding into the room, resigned to the set expression on Kook's face-brooking no argument and no willingness to budge.

Spoilsport.

"You're no fun."

"I hope you remember that when we go for our dawn run."

"That's not fun-that's torture you sadist."

"Get changed." Kook grins, letting his head flop back onto the pillows, turning onto his side, peering as I shuffle towards his wardrobe to pull out pyjamas.

Watching me with a lazy slowness, tracking my movements across the room, changing into pyjamas far too big and entirely smelling of Koo, shuffling towards his bed.

A hand reaches out to promptly yank me onto the mattress, duvet immediately swamping me, an arm curling around to wrap me further into his limbs, into the burrito he's now encased me in, grinning, face hovering close to mine.

"Yknow I think you just wanted to sleep with me tonight, but you were being a shit about it."

"Dunno what you mean."

Shuffling closer to burrow into the warmth of his limbs, legs tangling with his, head tucking under his. Fingers worming underneath his shirt to splay across warm, warm skin, chasing his body heat, fingers curling into him to steal the heat seeping off him.

Body flinching against the cold press of fingertips against his back, squirming futilely, leg knocking against mine.

"I think it means you could've snuck out rather than drag me down too." a hiss of breath, squirming as he tries to yank my hand off him, glaring at me, cold fingers chasing warm skin.

Laughing as he scowls.

"I could... I could've but I figured if I'm awake enough to do stupid shit at night... the least I can do is drag my partner... my other half with me."

"You're not allowed to skate late at night by yourself. And I'm sure I'd rather and eomma would rather not get a heart attack knowing you're out for a midnight run in Seoul but campus keeps the facilities open... so go for a run. In the gym. Just drop me a text."

I worm my way closer to him.

"Well-I'm here now so I guess it can wait until tomorrow."

His face is smooshed against the pillow, scrunched grin with amusement.

"Ahh... how wise of you."

I nod. Wriggling nearer.

"And it seems like too much effort to get redressed for a run when this oh so wise advice could've been said when I was at your door."

"Yeah well...tomorrow we're running through the Weir lunge and knee slide combo tomorrow... gotta make sure you're rested and not messing up." a droopy smile, lips tugged up.

"Me mess up? Don't get too cocky now cap'" I murmur, finger poking his nose. Watching it scrunch.

"Prove it tomorrow. Now sleep."

"But Koo I'm not tired yet... tell me a bedtime story." I grin.

The stare he looks at me is unimpressed, eyes rolling resignedly, words huffed out.

"Once upon a time an innocent young boy got a clingy shadow who chased after him-"

"I'm not clingy!"

"Shush and listen dumbbell."

"And he was a quiet boy who didn't know what to do with this extremely loudmouth of a pest that followed him everywhere-"

"Hey!"

"Will you shut up... I'm telling the story."

"Okay okay...sorry, sorry... go on..." staring at him attentively. Fingers dance across my ribs, poking and prodding, watching me squirm and twist back, duvet trapping the two of us, not able to evade and escape, shrieked protest silenced by a hand clamping over my mouth. Laughter muffled between us as Kook grins.

Grin falling into a disgusted look, hand yanking back from where I've licked it.

"You're so fucking gross."

Hand dragging to wipe his palm on my jumper, his jumper.

"Tell the story Kook... you don't need to gag me for it-"

"I swear to god I will kick you out my dorm-"

"Okay, okay I'll be good."

I mime silencing my lips, staring at him.

Scowling face twisted with a grimace.

"I don't wanna continue it anymore."

"Oh please Koo~"

"And this pest problem followed him around all his life... in fact rumours say the shadow's grown stronger and refuses to leave him at all."

"Sounds like he can't live without that shadow."

"Oh I'm sure he could. Just don't think he can be bothered to."

[......]

"Hold... hold-straighten her arm out more Jungkook-ah. (Y/N) hold your core stronger... hold, hold-hold for five." Hobi's voice counts us down, slow, drawn out. Pushing the 'for five' pause longer, eyes pinned on us with a sharp observing scrutiny.

And the look of sharp intensity cracks into a bright shining grin, face glowing with satisfaction and approval as a smile cracks the look of focus he'd been sporting.

"Good-- that was good!" Hobi breathes, voice rushing out with an exalted exhale of breath, eyes lighting up.

"Just good?" Kook teases, a heavy thump where his hands abruptly let go of their hold at my ankle and wrist, body tumbling to the floor, a mess of limbs sprawling bonelessly. Feeling tingles across my limbs where my wrist and ankle have been gripped and held into position over and over, held into a taut line and spun. Body twisting and being held as Kook turned.

"It was brilliant-careful!" warning sharp and reproachful, melting into a laugh when my foot kicks out at Kook, twisting to lie on my back, breaths hot, skin slowly trying to cool. When Hobi asserts that I'm good.

"Yeah Koo careful... don't damage the goods." I huff, lungs feeling taut with breath, feeling the air in my chest rattle slightly, feel tightly coiled limbs sag and flop, each exhale hot and wavering.

"Aren't I the goods? I do the heavy lifting."

Another kick. Solidly to his ankle.

"Are you calling me heavy?"

"I'm just saying... I have to carry you a lot in certain parts of this routine...all those lifts."

"You get a chance to show off those pretty biceps."

"Your fans enjoy the lifts."

"Seeeee?"

"Just as much as they enjoy (Y/N)'s legs wrapped around you."

"Hobi hyung that's gross-"

"It's artistic!"

"Oh he wishes he could have them around him in any other situation. Dream on Koo!"

"It's art! And besides there's a reason Kook and you balance so well-there's good chemistry there."

"After weeks of working on this choreo-I hope so. I really fucking hope so Hobi." I exhale, eyes drifting to float upwards.

"It feels-different. The chemistry you guys are channelling this performance round." Hobi muses.

I feel the ground under me reverberate slightly, the force of Kook letting his body slump down beside mine, a hand drawing my head to his lap, body limp, pliant to the hand tugging me to flop more comfortably.

"It is. We're going with a darker heavier type of chemistry." I murmur, blinking up at Hobi who looks at the two of us, curiosity thinly veiled in his look. The way his gaze dips to behind his phone that he angles at the two of us, sprawled limbs and bodies heated to the point where it's discomforting to feel Kook's heat seep into me but I'm far too sprawled to actually do something about it.

Somewhere across the dance studio there's two simultaneous buzzes. From both our phones.

Phone clicking shut before Hobi joins us, stretching out languidly with a deep leisurely groaned sigh, sprawling his weight across the both of us.

A soft complaining oof as Kook groans and lets himself fall back too, lets his elbows thunk and his body stretch out across the floor. A myriad of limbs entangled and draped over each other.

"Why's it different this time? You've won plenty of competitions by playing onto that intimate chemistry before." Hobi muses, the question hovering over us. Suspended. Hanging there.

"We felt differently with this piece. We tried it out with our usual... signature style. Our brand..."

"We changed it after I got-after I came back from Busan."

Slithering wisps of that cold, heavy fog ghosts along the corners of my mind, a pressing weight that briefly sinks down on my sternum, threatens to crush my ribs, to pierce flesh with its force. And then it dissipates, it recedes, knife slipping out from between my ribs, from the thudding beat that still echoes in my ears, sweat cooling on my skin.

The sensations of a thigh under my head, a body sprawled over my legs, the sound of each inhale and exhale-noisy where it's from Koo, quiet and soft where it's Hobi.

"Then this? This is going to be your swan song. Your rebirth." Hobi enthuses, pride and strength coiled into the low hum of his voice. Words steel-wrapped and firm, unwaveringly confident.

And quietly his hand reaches across to lace together with where mine rests against the floor, fingers tangling together and squeezing.

Grounding.

Comforting.

Focus, focus, focus.

And the voice that roots me to them sounds the same way Hobi's had in the diner, slowly piecing back together the fragmented pieces, holding it firmly, carefully between the grasp of his hands.

"You know what Hobi? I really think it is."

[......]

"You're so fidgety. Does training not tire you enough?" Jin asks, staring at me with a mixture of amusement and curiosity over the living room floor. Limbs stretched out contentedly across the carpet, letting my head flop onto a cushion.

Groaning as I still.

"I am tired." I insist.

"Then why are you fidgeting?" stare pointed.

"I am not."

"I'm not going for another late night run or gym session-I've got to do practice for the first years tomorrow. I'm not rocking up tired as fuck because you get restless." Kook groans, flopping into the pillows, lying so still, so stretched out and limbs so unwound that it's clear he's not budging for the night. That he's done for the day. Already in pjs and smelling so soft, post-shower and ready for bed. Half buried into his clothes with how he curls into them.

"That's what treachery looks like you snake." I hiss.

His voice is muffled into the pillows.

Not bothering to glance up, to lift his head, to turn to look at me.

"It's what common sense looks like. It's winter in Seoul (Y/N). I'm not freezing my ass off."

"I never said anything!"

"I can hear the cogs turning. Rattling about that empty mind." Comes the retort.

"You rude little shit."

"I hate to say it (Y/N) but your brain thinks pretty loud-"

"Are you agreeing she's got an empty head Hob-ah? That's not nice." Jin clucks, grinning as he purposely pokes and prods, adding fuel to the fire with a shit-eating grin Kook would be proud of if he lived that heavy-ass head off the pillow to bother to look at anyone.

"I never said that! Hyung!"

Jin laughs, face splitting with the force of his laughter, shoulders shaking as he grins.

Breaths wavering, amused-filled gaze flickering towards me. Settling there.

An odd sense of scrutiny and a carefulness as he watches me, amusement slowly morphing into quiet curiosity.

"But he's right you know? You're more fidgety than usual-got ants in your pants?"

"No!"

"Well you don't have a guy trying to get into them~ not after that... show you and hyung put on-"

"There was no show! Yah Jung Hoseok watch that mouth-" a warning chiding scold on the tip of his tongue, falling short at the way Hobi grins-eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Trust me Hobi I'm not fidgety because I haven't been getting dicked down-" ignoring the splutter and the way Kook groans, the sound muffled into the cushions, dragging one overhead to suffocate the sound of my voice from his ears. Lips twitching.

"I just-feel like doing something."

"Late night skating practice doesn't cut it anymore?"

[......]

Mid-turn my eyes catch sight of a figure standing at the top of the steps. Mid-turn I know who's standing at the top of the stairs, a sudden lurch that feels like my heart's twisted violently where it sits in my chest. As if suddenly...abruptly it's been yanked forward, a vice grip that briefly strangles my breath before the next exhale loosens it all.

Mid-turn I recognise the very figure, the very sight of the person I've done everything to avoid, everything to forget, everything to grow past. Briefly... briefly, the blade of my skate wobbles, digs into the ice harder to steady myself-the wobble's minute, unnoticed. But I know. Even if he doesn't see it I know. I know that for one single instant I'd almost let him know that seeing him again, even at a distance, caused something inside me to feel like a knife sliding between my ribs. Cold ice sinking into flesh. Driving itself into the hilt. Breaths stuttering unevenly.

Keep going, keep going, keep going. Because of all people-he... he's the last person I'll ever show I'm affected by. He's the last person who gets to see me fail and fall and fumble. He's the last person I'll ever let see me weak or caught out or vulnerable in front of. I owe him nothing. And yet-yet I don't look away. A part of me knows I can't look away. A part of me revels in knowing that he can't look away either. Surprise dilates his gaze and then it keeps him rooted.

A part of... a great big part of me delights in knowing that this time I choose to look, and he can't look away if he tried. And that he makes no effort to. A transfixion. Feet cemented where he stands.

And I want to scream it from the top of my lungs, want the breath from his lungs to rattle with the force of the

I want to scream it from my lungs. Look what I became. Look at me now. Look at me still standing after you tried knocking me down.

And I want his body, his flesh and bones, to rattle with the force of it all.

I want him to look and see and know. That what he did, what he choose to do, what happened... at the end of it all... I came back stronger. I came back stronger for Koo, for myself. I came back stronger because I'm not done giving it my all.

Watch me now Jimin. Watch me now and see what you've lost.

Watch me now and try fucking looking away.

Watch me and now and see what I can do without you.

Watch me.

Body twisting on the ice, limbs melting into an endless series of spins, blades fleeting on the ice. Body light, strings cut, movements fluid.

Watch me.

The sight of him blurs, melds with the ice. He stands there. But it's me who moves, me who turns, me who sweeps across the ice, blades scouring their path into it, body crackling with an anger, a rising crescendo of fury that grows the more he remains there, the more I skate.

Watch me.

Even if he doesn't deserve to-I want him to see. A vindictive, selfish pleasure and sharp exaltation because despite it all... Koo was right. I had more to give. And I wanted him to burn in my loss.

Watch me Jimin.

Watch what you threw aside.

[......]

"Something happen?"

"No."

"Something happened." No longer a question, eyes full of curiosity, gentle probing. A frown furrowing his brows as Jin looks at me.

Silently, Kook's head turns.

"Nothing happened." I insist.

Eyes burning intensely as they look at me, body cemented where it stands as if the ice itself anchors him there, solidifies itself around his legs and keeps him stuck. Distance between us but something about him being there makes my body burn, fury and ache, anger and pain, resentment and the sharp sting of betrayal, of being torn down, of being brought down to my knees, my worth and efforts all torn and tossed aside like they never held any value, any strength to them in the first place.

"What happened icicle?" Kook probes, voice softer, part of the sleepiness ebbs away from his voice, a flicker of something concerned, watchful, something that quietly picks apart whatever he reads from my posture, slowly easing himself up onto one arm.

Gaze turned to me.

"I just want a different place to do some cardio or some training or anything-"

"Did Park come up to you?" the sharpened jagged edge to his tone is laced in a violent protective fury.

Hobi's stare sharpens-a hint of a fiery fury flickers in his gaze.

"No!"

"Park? Park's the mystery ex?"

"I wouldn't call it an ex. According to him we weren't worth a label and I was the only fool who caught feelings." I reply, laugh sardonic, strained. It catches in my throat, the lie, the way it stings to say. The way it makes something uncomfortably hot burn in the centre of my chest, pushing away the urge to ground my palm against my sternum, where my heart thuds loud and painful.

Beaten and bruised,

Wounded.

Pride more so.

Because something bitter and vengeful rears its head at knowing that even though it'd ended whatever we both had I'd been the one to take the knock back, to struggle to stand back up, he'd stood there staring as if he'd had every right to be there despite all that running, all that hiding, all that avoiding. As if at the end of it I'm the only one to walk away scathed and bruised and feeling stripped raw again.

"Icicle..."

"But--but that mess is done and gone now. No...I ran into him at the rink when I was practicing. So maybe I just need to be getting out more...getting my other training done so I'm not tempted to head back to the rink all the time--"

"Are you running?!" incredulous, voice sharpening as Kook's expression stiffens, a glower in his eyes as his head straightens.

"No!" defensive, sharp, grating. Firm.

I wasn't running.

I was putting more distance and space and time between the chances of me and him running into each other again.

Because there'd been one firmed certainty in my mind-he didn't deserve to see me at my best when he'd already torn me down to my worst.

I didn't owe him shit.

"I just figured I could do something else when I'm a bit..." wound-up. Antsy.

"Rather than go to skate."

"We could always go skating together." Kook offers.

"We're always down for a late-night tumble." Hobi offers, voice warmer, gentler. Eyes knowing. Flickering with an echo of understanding.

"As long as that tumble is on Jin or something. Not the ice." Kook adds.

"What do you mean if the tumble is on Jin? Where's the hyung you brat? Like this-isn't prized goods?" Jin exclaims, raising his voice with mock disbelief, hand gesturing to himself.

It tugs a smile out of me, a short laugh.

And I know he's purposely trying to distract me. I know he's mock arguing to pull me further out of the brief dip in mood.

And I know he's offering a lifeline-an easy tug to draw me out of the depths before I even begin to flounder-

"What about swimming?" Hobi prompts.

"Swimming?" I echo.

"It's good for the core, it works out a lot of your body and it helps build endurance and stamina... it's a hard workout. Or yknow... swim because it's a good way to unwind, it's warm because they've got those temperature-controlled Olympic pools..." Hobi lists.

"Swimming feels like something you do with friends..."

"Dunking us and splashing us isn't swimming... though we can do that." Hobi grins at me.

"But if you're seriously looking into different forms of cardio-dance, swimming... they're more enjoyable than your winter runs yknow? You're not out in the cold for one."

"I've never really used the pools on campus. I haven't swum for ages."

Not until summers back in Busan with Jungkook.

"Try it out. Swim-whether it's to clear your head or get solid cardio in or to just float. Try it out." Hobi encourages.

Kook's still looking at me. A scrutinising intensity in the quiet depths of his eyes. Searching, searching, asserting.

And then an unspoken resolution to talk later.

To prompt later.

To check in later.

Lets his lips tug up into a wry smile.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

JIMIN POV:

"Listen... we've had time to watch over some of their game footage and these guys are ruthless."

The team circles around Joon, huddled around our Captain.

Drawn to the sharp competitive gleam of his eyes, the set determined expression on his face.

Bolstered by it, a familiar rush of adrenaline buzzing under my veins, limbs coiled tight, a shoulder nudging into mine. Bambam's serpentine eyes shine with a sharp feral hunger, antsy to start playing, to let the gameplay do the talking.

Riled and thrilled at the prospect of a solid competitor if their gameplay and match footage is anything to go by.

We've had challenging opponents, we've played against teams that have pushed against our plays and where we've well and truly worked for the victories we've slimly clutched onto our fingers before it slipped away. We know our competition is tough.

But watching their gameplay, watching their old matches to get a glimpse, a feel for what they were like as a team, eyes mapping out our rival counterparts, breaking down and analysing their body language, trying to figure out even an indication of their tells. Of how their minds might work in their game against us.

It'd been easy to figure out that their centre was going to play a more offensive approach to getting the puck to his team. It'd been almost predictable to pinpoint him in the lineup, to size him up at a glance, and then as he played, that our opponent's centre had the more typical broad and big bulked build. A force to be reckoned with.

Knowing that when the stand-off came I had mere moments to analyse his stance and pick a point in his defence to attack. That push came to shove, that it all came down to quicker reactions and reflexes and who was able to steal the puck into possession at the blow of the whistle.

That often the first moment of stand-off between me and him would set the tone of the match in the first few minutes.

But I'd noticed he was quick, aggressive and forceful in his attack, mind mentally sweeping through gameplays that would work better with a more aggressive line-up.

I'd watched Joon pour over strategies and outlines of the rink, talk game strategy to the team, to the substitute players. I'd seen him outline them and then we'd implemented them. I'd been part of the hours pouring over plays and planning, practicing and executing them to work out the kinks and flaws in our own teamplay-working with each other and then playing against each other. Pitching ourselves against each other because who better knew a team's flaws then the team itself? Who else could identify the chinks in our game-armour and then rebuild then the very team that created the gaps in the defence?

"We play a strong offence with you, Bambam and Yugyeom but we need to remember that this team's gotten their hands dirty before." Joon mutters, brows furrowed. Rewinding the clip to replay, watching as a player's sent off the ice for checking an opponent, a slam of limbs that body-checks their on-screen opponent off the ice to slam into the rink, skating ahead before the ref blows the whistle.

Watch as the team's aggressive stance to playing seems to be an underlying current to the way they seem to play.

They're fine with getting their hands dirty.

So we should be prepared for it.

"I dare one of those guys to try bodycheck Bambam-our guy's a beast Namjoon." I grin, unruffled by the prospect knowing full well that the cunning sharpness he and Yugyeom exuded as players would lean fully into the tit-for-tat retaliation.

"I don't want our guys sent off." Joon murmurs, face creasing into a frown, jotting down a note on the expansive list on his lap, eyes intently focused on the freeze frame as he notes their spacing.

There's only so much scouting and guessing and prep we can do based on footage, based on old games. There's only so much we can try figure them out, already knowing that they'll have done the same.

There's only so much we can do when it comes to it on the weekend, the matches will be a test of skill and teamplay at the core of it all.

"Relax Namjoon. Our team's solid. See those aggressive lines? Their stances?" pointing out the jagged formation.

"They're unpredictable. And that might be their advantage but it's also going to be their disadvantage." Eyes sweeping over the screen.

Joon makes a questioning sound, intense stare flickering to me. Waiting, prompting.

"It means their defence line and offence line will have weak spots in it at any given moment. Because they like playing it rough it means we'll always have an in if we use it properly."

Knowing it all, helping plan as much as we could doesn't erase the jitteriness under my skin that only amplifies and swells knowing that surrounding the ice is a sea of people. A mass of noise, of cheering, yelling, support and its counterpart.

It doesn't matter how strong the faith I have in our team, in my own ability, when it comes to pre-competition nerves.

And those nerves are magnified by the looming awareness that this weekend helps our prospects with the first round of National qualifiers. That this weekend is only the first set of matches against every other professional hockey team in the country, the brutal grind to narrow it down to one singular best hangs there. Suspended.

I glance over towards the rest of the team. JB bolstered by Joon's low firm voice, full of confident belief, Jackson's face flickering between antsiness and nerves, Yugyeom and Bambam's expressions sharp with a thrilled eagerness, lips curled with eagerness.

Despite Joon's pep-talk, I know he's got his own worries and nerves he's shouldering. That for the sake of the team his Captain voice is strong, encouraging and firm.

His faith unshakeable.

Watch as the rest of the team, the substitutes, the benched players, the med-staff and Coach all cluster as Joon rallies us all.

"No injuries."

"No injuries!" we chorus.

"No penalties."

"No penalties!"

"Brush off any knockbacks you hear me?"

"Yes Cap'!"

"Play like we practice and we're good."

"Yes Cap'!"

"Have each other's backs."

"Yes Cap'!"

My lips tug into a wide grin at the voices growing louder in volume with each echo.

The adrenaline fizzes and crackles.

"Let's slam our victory in their faces."

"Fucking let's GOOOOO!"

"LET'S GET IT!"

"They won't know what's hit them!"

"Drinks on me when we win!"

"Dinner's on Captain when we knock their asses down!"

Between the growing cheers and hollers, Joon's face splits into a grin.

Dimpled pride as he nods.

"Get your asses to the end without an injury and celebration's on me."

The cheering grows louder.

Joon's hand moves to the centre of the huddle first. Curls into a fist as he looks at all of us in the eyes, his own blazing with a competitive roaring heat.

"This win's ours."

My hand reaches over to clamp around his, squeezing tight, gaze finding his, nodding tightly.

Hands layering onto each other's, gripping on tightly, a silent but thick wave of anticipation brews as an overhanging thrum. Potent and addictive. The familiar rush of blood roaring in my ears, of my pulse beginning to quicken.

"Get us that puck starboy."

The grin that curls across my mouth is unrestrained, it stretches wide with a hum of confidence that seeps into my veins. A sureness that I got their back. They got mine.

"We're a strong team. Let's show them that." head tilting to the door.

The cheers grow louder, hyping every member of the team up, feeding us, following us out with the uniform clacks of skate guards against the floor and then the soft sharp glide of blades against ice, falling into formation on the rink. Eyes honing in on the puck.

Fingers curling tighter against the hockey stick.

Breaths evening out. Regulating.

"You got this Jimin." I whisper to myself.

[......]

The tense beats of silence are endless. Infinite.

And just as wide and vast that this infinity stretches, it shatters. The slam of the puck careening into the goal, hitting the net.

An infinite silence that as quickly as it'd threatened to stretch across the rink, across the stands, over the speakers... it shatters.

And the deafening explosion of cheers and music and voices and the din of the speakers and the racing voices of the commentators make my ears pulse, sounds swarming in from every angle until it's replaced... no... it's muffled by the swarm of bodies all colliding into each other, arms overlapping and gripping at jerseys, voices raised and disbelieving, body rattling as it's shaken and then crushed into a mass of arms, team huddled together. Laughter tinged with disbelief and the rush of air shuddering out of lungs, faces split with grins.

"You fucking legend!"

"Hyung you did it!"

"Jimin-ah that was some shot!"

"Well done Min-ah."

"You're a beast!"

The hockey stick in my grip feels slippery, sweat-slick palms tightening their hold onto it but the cluster of people... of my team around me jostles me, makes the grip loosen, wide-eyed astonishment in return swarmed with giddiness, pride and joy. With laughter and shouts.

"We just-" I begin.

"We won! We won the match!"

"It went in?"

It'd been a wild, last minute attempt to break through their converging offence line, a final shot at trying to break out of the draw, to grab onto a victory that seemed already lost even as I aimed the puck towards the goalkeeper's unguarded right side.

"It went in!"

"You fucking beauty Park Jimin!"

"It went in." dazed.

Somewhere in the din, Joon's eyes find mine. Shining as he looks at me.

Full dimpled grin stretched wide, face flushed, and hair rumpled but grinning widely at me.

"It went in." he echoes in confirmation.

[......]

"I thought that game was going to end in a draw."

"I know you're the star centre but holy fucking shit that last minute goal was something else Jimin-ah." Voice hoarse and strained, expression grinning. As if he'd been screaming at the top of his lungs.

And in that din, in the swarm of the team converging on me, somewhere in it Tae had rushed onto the rink, steps slipping and almost losing balance, toppling forward to wrench me into a bone-crushing hug, limbs wrapped so tightly around me, squeezing the air from my lungs, choking the laughter from my throat.

"Thanks Tae."

"You were seriously insane! And hyung... I didn't know Namjoon hyung was ruthless-the gameplays have got his brains all over them. Holding down the fort and planning the other team's destruction-fuck that's hot." He grins unashamedly, watching as Joon's face pinkens at the praise, fingers fondly tousling dark riotous curls, pushing them back from shining awed eyes. Dimpled fond grin as he looks at Tae.

There's a bubbling welling feeling of pride and satisfaction that wells up in my chest, lungs expanding with a lightness, a floatiness that makes my lips curve wider, face splitting into a grin as I watch the team cheer over the tables, toasting to the win. A mix of friends from across campus scattered across the tables, Coach's stance is broad and puffed with pride.

It feels like the win's left the team feeling more relaxed now that the first official match of the season's happened. As if all the pressure and stress and expectations have finally gotten a result. And with a win under our belts it felt like the upcoming match the following weekend was more manageable, something we could grasp, something that with the same intensity, the same determination we could win.

That the building blocks of our success, of working towards the end of season goal...of the National championship title seems with this match one step closer.

The buzz of adrenaline and endorphins pulsing through my body makes my skin feel just as flushed and warm as it had mere seconds after the win, heart still racing wildly under my skin, hammering with the post-match high.

"Told you you'd be fine." Joon says, eyes meeting mine as he raises his glass in silent toast. Worries that now seemed unfounded now that the win has everyone's face flushed with exhilaration. Now that we've won all that stressing and worrying seems pointless. All the pressure seems like it'd been pushing for this moment, melting off my body now. Stress leeched away from my limbs.

"I guess we were."

He's about to say something but the sound of a voice booming, carrying across the tables has a quieter hush falling as Coach stands. Heads turning towards him, his posture radiating a pride and approval that has a smile tugging at my lips as we all twist towards him.

"I want to say I'm proud of you boys. I knew you all had the drive when I picked each of you for the team... I knew you'd win today. Well done." words imbued with pride, eyes sweeping over each of us, a feeling of soul-deep relief so intense it swarms my body, makes my skin buzz as a heavy weight lifts off my shoulders, stance straightening and unconsciously sitting slightly taller.

"If he picked the teams, he'd have Lee playing games and fucking us all over." someone mutters a few seats down.

"I thought the sponsors and Head of Winter Sports made the decisions." Yoongi hyung murmurs, eyes sharpened with focus as he listens to Coach's toast, his accolades of praise and validation that with each word makes something inside my chest loosen, too focused on Coach to really note the tight curl of Yoongi's mouth. The intensity that flares in his eyes.

"I knew you'd all bring the wins to my sport, my team, my legacy."

"Is he celebrating the team or himself? Give the players some credit." Tae's voice is slightly bemused but when I glance at him, his brows are furrowed and lips twisted downwards. A tight curl of fingers against his own glass. In the next moment he glances over and his face melts into a wide smile. Shoulder nudging mine as he presses into my side.

"Give my Jiminie credit where it's damn well due. You did amazing Minnie."

"You did. Joon did. The team did." Yoongi hyung asserts, a displeasure in his eyes.

"Coach did get us here... he was right. If I focus...if I put my all in I can do it." I defend, a brief wave of loyalty crashes through me. The incredulous looks on their faces, the disapproving sharpness in Namjoon's expression is what's unexpected though.

"You put your all in all the time. There's not a player more focused than you." words firm. Unwavering.

"Yeah, but Coach...he's been waiting for this win, hasn't he? We finally have a proper shot at Nationals this year." I shrug.

"He can have one night off from making the whole thing about himself. Doesn't get off enough from the tight leash he keeps you all on?" Yoongi hyung's throat bobs as he swallows down his drink quickly. The glass slamming down a fraction too hard. The heavy thunk of it against the wood draws a few glances.

"Hyung--" I begin.

"Hyung we can all bitch about their Coach at your flat. Now smile. Namjoonie hyung and Jiminie deserve to be celebrated without all your frowning."

"Yah..." hand swatting the fingers that poke at the corners of his mouth, at the space between his brows, face melting from its defensive ire, lips twitching at Tae's hand darting to poke and prod at his cheek.

"There we go... we know you're an old soul, but you don't need the early wrinkles like one ahjussi."

"Aish...Kim Taehyung come here." lunging half a swipe, a gummy grin as he wraps an arm around him, slinging it heavily to tug Tae forward.

Watching as he grins and flails at the fingers poking scoldingly, poke-pokes to his ribs, to his side watching as Tae squirms, spluttering and laughing helplessly, knee knocking hard against the table. Glass sloshing heavily.

"I'm going to do a quick round." Joon grins as he slowly gets up.

"Don't take too long Captain." Tae calls before his voice dissolves into laughter, a stream of babbled okay-okay-sorrysorry you're not an ahjussi-sorry-sorry-HEY I SAID I WAS SORRY!

The air in my lungs seems to expand. Breathing easy for the first time since preparing for the match.

Finally feeling like...like it'll all work out.

[......]

"You did good today Jimin-ah."

"Thanks hyung but it was a team-"

"I know that. I meant you did good... it felt like you were playing for yourself today. For yourself and your team."

"I had something to prove."

"To who?"

"To myself." That if I sacrificed it all like Coach said, that if I gave it all up... if I gave her up then it was worth something. That it amounted to something. To wins. To victories. To this floaty sensation of flying amongst the clouds, airborne and weightless. The same way she looked whenever she executed those jumps, the same way she looked; exhilarated and alive in a way that felt impossible to know but I saw it in her eyes when she was airborne. I wanted to feel that. For a moment.

Today...today it felt like I got an echo of it. Of how it felt like to soar. As a hockey player.

"If I wasn't already your fanboy and hopelessly in love with you I'd have fallen for you today anyways. What a man~" Tae grins, fanning his face as he flutters his lashes at me. Lips stretching wide and boxy, eyes sparked with an echo of the adrenaline that continues to buzz under my skin, pulse through my veins. A simmering humming crackle of it, the high of winning, of pulling through in the last minutes and turning the game into our favour still pulses through my limbs, addictive in the way that high is echoed on every teammate's face.

"Whipped." Yoongi mutters under his breath, lips twitching with amusement when Tae's gaze widens, head twisting to shoot an affronted look.

"Don't act like you weren't cheering louder than me in the stands hyung. Yknow Jiminie... Yoongi hyung couldn't stop mentioning how solid your form was today and how proud he fe- ow!"

"Stop telling stories Taehyung-ah and pour our star boy a drink."

But the way hyung says it, eyes gleaming with pride he won't say he has, cheeks slightly tinged pink and gums peeking through... even without saying it explicitly, it's unmistakeable. Hyung is proud.

And the nickname, the title that tips so easily into burden, weight, expectation is celebratory, cheering and soft. Like I've earnt it.

And Yoongi hyung's validation sits warm in my chest, behind my ribs, in the steady thudding of my pulse, spreads its warmth through every limb until my skin feels flushed with it, eyes ducking away as I tip my glass out to Tae, lips curving up.

Hyung's proud of you Jimin-ah.

He doesn't say it and yet it's there for me to hear anyways.

"In love with me huh?" I grin, watching Tae pour out a shot, expression creasing with a beaming smile.

"Didn't you know? I don't give one half of my soul to just about anyone you know."

That warm feeling under my skin makes me feel light, bubbly. Airy and floating on that rushed high.

Affection swells under my skin.

"Damn right you don't."

"Couldn't wait for your soulmate so you had to rush to him in the final days of the year?" Yoongi hyung grins.

"Exactly! The stars and my angel knew I was meant to find my Jiminie~ and see...look at us now... I'm the adoring love of his life cheering him on in the stands."

Laughter melts into easy smiles, chest lighter than it's been in months.

"You know I'll be the same...play my turn as your adoring fan for your competitions."

"Not good enough! Be my pretty boy waiting for me after swimming-"

"With a towel, ready to fulfil your every need after you're all swimmed out." Playing into the exalted look in his eyes, into the way Tae's boxy grin widens impossibly further. Nodding approvingly.

"I know the pools are on the other end of campus but if true love can't get you there...nothing will."

"I'll be there, I'll be there." I laugh.

"It's a date! A promise! Don't you talk your way out of this."

"I won't."

"Monday?"

"Yeah! Hyung you wanna join?"

"No thanks."

"But hyung-"

"Wouldn't want to get in between this soulmate romance."

"There's always space for you hyung...do you feel left out? We can always hold hands again...you don't need to ask for permission-"

The silent grab of Tae's hand to silence him, the grumbled endeared huff of breath and the oh-so-slight pout as Yoongi hyung rolls his eyes and laces his and Tae's fingers together cuts off all the teasing. Smile radiating with preening satisfaction as Tae scoots closer.

"I'll to your swim meets Taehyung-ah." of course hyung will are the unspoken words in his eyes, a peek of gums as he looks at the two of us, glass clinking against mine, pouring a shot of juice for Tae before he clinks their glasses together too.

Tae's eyes are vibrant, vivid with exhilaration, a mirror to my own.

"Cheers!"

"Thanks guys."

"Wait...wait me too!" a rush of words, a hurried clink, a body tumbling forward to press between our seats, grin deeply dimpled and face flush with giddiness.

"To Nationals." Joon cheers.

"To Jimin-ah's year of knocking Lee's ass onto the ice."

"To escaping your Coach's bullshit."

"To all our wins."

Glasses clinking together, the infectious giddiness only seems to well up, only seems to chase its way up our throats, buzzing in the air. The congratulatory shot doesn't burn on its way down my throat, it leaves behind a trail of warmth that suffuses itself with my skin.

An arm slung around my shoulders, dragging me into his side as Tae cheers, raising louder and louder toasts towards the team, welcomed with the loud call of voices echoing his toasts, drawn into the buzz of victory and celebrating its high with us, floating on the same high with adrenaline glittering in his eyes.

"To Jimin-ah... he'll take your team places. And to Namjoon hyung-the best Captain on campus!"

[......]

The phone sits heavy in my hand, staring aimlessly at the screen, thumb hovering over a number I haven't reached for in weeks. Joy and the feeling of triumph have ebbed away and left in its wake a feeling of something...missing.

Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it. You don't get to anymore.

But there's an ache sitting behind my ribs as I stare at the number, staring at it but knowing full well I wouldn't call, I wouldn't message. Knowing full well that it was unfair.

Leave her alone.

Because she deserves everything. Because she deserves to be free of you.

Because what? You want her to see you won too? That in the tally of it all you're evening up the score?

Even before it all... even before us... (Y/N) had always known about my wins. She'd heard of them, she'd had them flaunted in her face in the same way she boasted her victories, eyes gleaming with triumph and lips curled with a mirroring goading smirk.

Even before it all... in all my wins... (Y/N) had been a part of them.

Even before it all-she knew when I'd won, and I'd felt a surge of satisfaction in her knowing.

And now...now there's an ache behind my ribs and a want as I continue to stare at my phone knowing full well, she wouldn't know, she wouldn't care to know.

Her eyes had goaded me the other day. Had flaunted how high she'd climbed and how far behind she'd left me. How below I was from the constant soaring flight she was on, airborne and reaching for stars and new peaks that I couldn't dream of. That's what her eyes had said. An endless storm of words in the burning depths of her fury and hate.

She wouldn't care if you're winning or losing. Why would she bother?

But still...still that ache throbs with each slowed thud of my heartbeat, echoes in my ears.

The high of it all has come down, leaving behind a brewing storm of thought, of wishes and wants and feelings I don't deserve to feel because I ended it and if I ended it then I was the last person who was allowed to let myself be dragged back into them.

Because...because Coach was right. Today's win proved it.

And letting her go, letting it all fall apart, letting myself fall apar-it was all for the team. For everyone. For me. Just like Coach said.

But despite it all... despite it all I want to tell her; I want to share it with her. I want to...I want to celebrate it with her.

Now, in the quiet, in the solitude of an empty dorm room, sheets bereft of a figure skater stretched out across them, room empty...empty...her absence is a screaming reminder of what it could've been like to celebrate with her. And what it feels like now.

Quiet...it's too quiet in the dorm room. And somewhere between it all I'd gotten used to seeing her stretched out across the sheets even on the nights we didn't hookup. That some nights it'd been just the two of us curled under blankets or sprawled over them, limbs entangled, bodies pressed into one another, worn out after practice and slowly...slowly unwinding. Finally relaxing. Complaining, arguing and sometimes...talking. Sometimes...silence. But it was companionable, it was a shared sense of unspoken awareness that sometimes...sometimes neither of us wanted to go back to an empty dorm room. Sometimes we wanted that exhaustion in the solace of each other's beds.

There's none of the fire, none of the flames, none of its dying embers of her presence in my room, an endless infinity of quietness while my mind races. No competitiveness, no gloating, no pride, no preening.

I know that when I saw her practice, that when I walked in on her dancing and skating across the ice-all flame and fury, all hate and hard strength...I know my performance today wasn't like that. And yet... yet for the first time since it all ended...today I feel like I was worth something. That it was for something. All that sacrifice and pain paid off.

And I wanted to share the victory with (Y/N), that feeling of elation because I know she'd understand it, kindred spirits, two sides of the same coin.

I wanted her to know...someone who knew what it was all worth, the struggle, the pain, the difficulties, the hardship...I wanted to share today with (Y/N).

I let the phone lie open in the palm of my hand, eyes fixed to the photo, deep buried feelings gnaw at me, thumb pressing onto it. Eyes transfixed.

A crown icon where a name should be.

That's all she was.

That's all I dared label her as. Nondescript and unnamed.

"It's so easy to get under your skin ice princess." the taunted murmur echoes in my ears, a soft hushed whisper. When had it softened in my memory? When had it become less of a taunt?

Quietly, it changes.

Forever unknown for it.

(Y/N).

Too little too late Jimin-ah. You played the game to your own rules, and you still ended up losing.

Today you hadn't.

But you lost the game then. And you lost the opponent too.

I sit there for a long time.

The phone stays open.

-------------------

It's quieter under the water. Everything muffled under the rippling blue. Overhead lights a distant blur from underneath the water. Body breaking past the surface. Lungs burning slightly, chest expanding to draw in air, pulling myself up out of the water, body briefly feeling as if it'll be pulled back down into the waters, feel it slosh against my sides as I twist to perch on the side of the pool, watching the more leisurely wading motions as Tae swims towards me, skin rippling under the surface.

Water streaking off his skin, dripping from sodden curls plastered to his nape and jaw, grinning breathlessly as his body bobs up and down in the water slightly, propping himself up on my legs, looking up between wet curls.

"Not a bad swimmer. Who taught you? An Olympian contender?"

The water sloshes as I kick water at him, grinning.

"Don't know any Olympian contender... there's a whole year until the summer Olympics. There's a year until the representatives are chosen... but-"

"But?" probing with boxy amusement.

"But there's this great swimmer in the making who dragged me to the pool and threatened to dunk me under the water if I refused to get into the deep end."

"Huh...exposure therapy? Immediately effective I'd say." Tae muses, fingers absently brushing through curls, hands against the tiles, feeling water streak off my limbs, puddling around me, swim shorts clinging to skin.

"Maybe the threat of drowning was too strong."

"Or you just needed to finally get your ass onto this side of the campus. It's not a different planet you know...always lazy." He grumbles good-naturedly.

"Sorry... I know I've been a shit friend recently Taehyung-ah."

The smack of water against my face is sudden, choking on chlorine, spluttering around the water that I blink out of my eyes, dragging a hand across my face as I scowl at him.

"What was that for?"

"Going through shit and being a shit person are two different things Min." Tae corrects, voice a balance somewhere between softness, an understanding in his eyes that makes something inside my throat stick, and a firmness in the admonishment, in the way he looks at me that makes me pause.

"It's not too different Tae. I was a shit person because I was going through shit." The mention of who remains unspoken, but he knows. He knows exactly who I'm talking about.

Understanding creases his brows, hands squeezing my knees gently. Wading forward to tilt his face up, to be as near as he can in the water as he peers at me.

"I didn't say you didn't make mistakes but... sometimes its easy to label things as black and white. You did something wrong so you're just wrong. But... it's you did something wrong but it's not all that you are Jimin-ah."

Forgiveness and understanding is so easy in Tae's eyes, so willingly given. A refusal to see me for what I am. A refusal to paint me as the bad guy I know I am, I know I became.

It's different. For Tae. To stand on the sidelines and draw his conclusion.

But things were black and white.

I hurt her. I used her. I tossed her aside.

She hurt and hurt and hurt.

Because of me.

She got hurt.

Because of me.

I hurt her.

For me.

For my career. For my self.

"I fucked up. And then I kept myself busy. And you've been there for me, Joon's been there for me, Yoongi hyung's been there for me. But I haven't been there for you guys." Apology thickens my voice, the weight of it sits heavy on my chest.

His fingers pinch at my leg.

"We're not going down that road. If you feel that bad I'll tell you how to make it upto me." words tugging my eyes to his. Nodding.

"Go on."

"Race me." warmth wells in my chest, Tae really is such a-

And then hands abruptly yank me from the pool's edge and deep into the waters, a grinning sharpness all I see before the water swarms around my head, scrabbling to push upright, legs kicking me to the surface, breaking through with a choked yell.

"Fuck! Give a guy some warning!"

"I told you... exposure therapy does wonders in making the mind blank. Figured you needed a wakeup call."

"And what the fuck would that be?"

"Drowning in blame isn't going to help you. Spending time with us will. And then once you've finally beaten me we'll grab food. Cos nothing beats the food after a swim. And then you're staying in my dorm room. And then..." he continues to list as he wades backwards, easily slipping out of reach from me retaliating- seeing the calculating look in my eyes.

"Wakeup Jimin-ah. You're in a better position than you've been all year. You're training healthier. Stick around... I promise I'm worth the time." damp lashes fluttering as he lets himself tip back to float, limbs stretched out with a languid ease.

"I guess you are soulmate." I grin.

Swimming forward towards him, hand shoving him down into the water.

Unbothered, dripping and grinning as he surfaces.

"Swimming and confessing? Damn Jiminie you got me all wrapped around your finger..." Tae lilts.

A playful gleam in his eyes.

"Now if you want to beat me I suggest using those arms to actually put power into each stroke."

The water around us ripples as he lazily swims backwards, arms wading through the water at a leisurely pace. Unrushed. His own arms rippling with built-muscles he's not even needing to use.

"Show off."

"Gotta make it worth your while." He winks.

[......]

It was a pity win.

It felt like a pity win.

And the thought stings my pride more than it should.

The thought that Tae handed me the win purely to get us out the water, to get food, stirs a familiar riled up competitiveness. Mouth opening to protest, to demand a rematch because I will win dammit Tae-

"I give up! I give up-let me eat! I'm starving." He groans, steps quickening to hurry out of the poolside and to the showers, ignoring my protest Tae did you let me win you sneak?

"I surrender!" he yells over his shoulder.

"I don't need that pitiful win-rematch... rematch it now!" I demand, steps slippery on the tiles as I hurry after him.

"Nope!"

"Tae!"

"Jiminie~"

"Tae once more!"

He steps under the cascade of the showers, dragging a hand through curls, letting the water batter at skin to wash off the chlorine. Thumbs hooking into the waistband of his swim shorts, pausing.

Eyes gleaming with a smug satisfaction as he grins at me from under the overhead spray of water.

"Competitive are we?"

And then his grin widens.

"Welcome back Jimin-ah."

As if he's seeing an old friend, as if he'd been waiting for that competitiveness to rear its head, as if he'd been waiting for me.

As if he's found me again.

The burn of competitiveness ebbs away.

And another breath loosens my lungs. Another bit of weight is lifted off my chest as I grin back at him.

"How'd you feel now?"

"I feel okay." Feel like some part of my personal axis rightens.

And I believe it too.

(WOEIGHWEIGHWEG THE FINAL CHAPTER BEFORE T H E EWGOEIWGWEIOG MOMENT I BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS AND WHAT YOU THINK'S COMING UP AND EJGWIGNW THE WAY I CAN'T WAIT Midiiplier FOR IT ALL)

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3