Kim Horangi Hong-Jin°

Hong-Jin and you studied in the military department. You were the best sniper among the girls; he was the pride of the class. And your relationship was like a competition.

Your relationship was never warm—jokes, jibes, banter. He'd mock your stance; you'd mock his shooting. But whenever someone showed interest in you, Horangi claimed you were "sort of dating." You did the same when girls lingered on him.

Then something changed. He watched your training differently—not to tease, but to ensure you were safe. Chocolate appeared in your bag, then candies. Only your roommate knew your sweet tooth. To your face, Horangi kept teasing, calling you "brat." But something inside you stirred.

Training moved outside today: ten laps. You felt unwell—head buzzing—but didn't ask for time off, it's you after all were the best.

The first laps passed. By the third, your breath faltered. Horangi ran ahead, occasionally turning back.

On the seventh lap, the world blurred. Ninth lap—slower, gasping. Your legs stopped. Darkness swallowed you.

Horangi lunged as you collapsed. He dropped to his knees, fear cracking his voice.

–"Hey, hey, little one," –his voice broke. –"What's wrong? Why are you scaring me? Wake up, come on!"

maybe something will change between you