Nau Rin paused at the doorstep of her home, and Minho, who had been avoiding her all this while, suddenly slowed his pace and turned to look at her.
"Aren't you coming in?" he asked.
She stood there in silence for a moment before replying softly, "You go ahead. I'll change my clothes and join you," and stepped inside.
As she opened the door, a warm light spilled into the entryway, cozy and warm. Nau Rin went straight to her room, shedding her coat and hanging it neatly behind a chair. As she loosened her tie, her reflection caught her eye in the windowpane. She lingered there, staring at herself without blinking.
The darkness outside acted like a mirror, revealing her features with sharp clarity, cold yet resolute. Her hands moved deliberately as she loosened the tie, the line of her jaw standing out starkly in the night's shadows. Behind the glass, her eyes seemed to demand answers from her own reflection, silent yet piercing.
Eventually, she tore her gaze away and changed into fresh clothes. Stepping into the bathroom, she splashed her face and hands with icy water, the cold jolting her skin awake, as if each thought that had been tangled in her mind now snapped into place, one by one.
By the time she arrived at Minho's doorstep and rang the bell, Seohun opened it. He ushered her in and closed the door behind her.
"There you are! Why are you so late?"he asked.
"I had a lot to take care of at school," Nau Rin replied briefly.
Seohun studied her with a peculiar look, and when she asked, "What?" he shrugged slightly. "Nothing," he said, brushing past her.
At that moment, Mr. Go caught sight of her. "Ah, my daughter's home!" he exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide smile.
"Yes," Nau Rin replied, greeting the adults politely before following her mother into the kitchen.
Her mother stood by the stove, stirring the soup. "You haven't eaten yet, have you? I set aside a portion just for you. I'll heat it up now," she said, her voice warm as the steam rose around her.
Nau Rin pulled out a chair and sat at the table, quietly observing her mother's movements. The steady clatter of dishes on the wooden counter filled the room.
"Minho's father received a promotion, so we invited everyone over tonight. It's quite a celebration," her mother explained.
"Isn't this a bit understated? Shouldn't we celebrate properly, formally, and on a larger scale?" Nau Rin asked.
Her mother sighed. "We suggested the same thing. But this time, we thought it best to keep things modest."
"Very well, then," Nau Rin murmured softly.
Amid the kitchen's bustling, her mother's concern lingered. "It's too noisy here for you to eat comfortably. Take your food to Minho's room," she advised.
Nau Rin carried her meal as she made her way toward Minho's room. Upon entering, she found Taehyun sitting on the bed, absorbed in his textbook, while the other two leaned against the edge of the bed, quietly occupying the floor. When she asked someone to move the desk closer, Minho scowled but dutifully slid it over for her.
Settling comfortably at the desk with her food, she asked, "Why do you all look so bored?"
Taehyun didn't lift his gaze from the book. "We have a proficiency test coming up soon," he said.
Minho chimed in, "Exactly. Otherwise, why on earth would we be sitting here like this?" His tone carried a mock seriousness. She gave a faint smile.
Nau Rin took a bite of her meal, letting out a quiet "mmm" in acknowledgment, and asked how long they had been at it.
"Quite a while. It should be wrapping up soon," Taehyun replied succinctly.
So they continued in their quiet rhythm, flipping pages and studying while Nau Rin ate in calm contentment, the soft rustle of paper blending with the muted sounds of the room.
Eventually, the gathering came to an end. Guests departed for their own homes, some stumbling slightly, perhaps a little tipsy, while Minho's father remained behind, his face alight with joy as he waved each person off with a wide, satisfied smile.
Through the crack in the curtains, the faint light of dawn seeped into the room, signaling the approach of morning. Nau Rin tried to sleep, but exhaustion betrayed her, and she found herself opening her eyes. Glancing at the clock on the desk, she realized it was five in the morning.
Carefully, she slipped out of bed, making her way to the bathroom. After a moment, she emerged, pulling a set of training clothes and a thin woolen cap from her drawer. She dressed quietly and descended the stairs.
The house was still, her parents yet to awaken. Moving softly, she took a small piece of paper from the table, scribbled, "Out for a run," and stuck it to the fridge before stepping outside.
The morning air was crisp and invigorating, filling her lungs as she stretched and warmed her body with a few exercises. Then she began to run, not too fast, not too slow, keeping a steady, measured pace. Circling the stadium, she ran until an entire hour had passed, her feet pounding rhythmically on the track.
Stopping to drink some water, she took in her surroundings. Grandparents were exercising on stretching equipment, and a few others jogged along the paths. She paused at a bench by the small lake, sitting quietly to watch the waterfowl glide across the still surface.
Slowly, the sun rose, painting the sky with the first light of a new day, and with it, a sense of calm and quiet purpose settled over Nau Rin as the world awakened around her.
Nau Rin hesitated for a moment at the school gate, taking a deep breath before crossing the threshold. She walked slowly through the corridors, her eyes scanning every corner, her ears straining to catch even the faintest whisper. Yet there was no sign of them. No one had mentioned anything, and they were nowhere to be seen.
Even after classes ended, no one called for her. Her one-month punishment had officially ended yesterday, which meant she no longer had to clean the bathrooms. A brief smile flickered across her face at the thought, but it vanished almost immediately, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease.
Arriving home, she paused at the door, remembering that no one was around, and unlocked it with her key. She recalled how her mother used to open the door for her automatically.
Though she hadn't trained in some time, there was little to prepare—just her training clothes and shoes, which she packed quickly before heading out. After walking three blocks and weaving through crowded streets, she arrived at the gray, weathered building marked "Boxing Club."
Inside, nearly everyone had already gathered. In her shift, there were about ten kids, most between fourteen and eighteen. Among them, aside from Nau Rin, there was only one other girl—her age, though a boy. So most of the time, she trained alongside the boys under the coach's supervision.
Nau Rin made her way to her locker, changed into her gear, retrieved her glasses, and tied her hair up. Nothing remained to hide her face. She stepped into the hall and began her warm-up.
She liked coming to this club. Here, she felt at ease. No one singled her out. Everyone treated her as if she weren't there, as if she didn't exist at all.
Soon the coach entered the hall, and everyone lined up. Nau Rin positioned herself at the far edge, keeping a small distance. The coach held up a sheet of paper.
"The guidelines for the national championship have arrived. Starting tomorrow, those participating will enter a special training program," he announced.
As he turned to leave, Nau Rin raised her hand. "Is there a female division?" she asked.
He glanced at the paper. "Yes, but only middleweight. Also, it's uncertain if there will be enough participants, so we can't say for sure yet."
"If there's nothing else, get started with your training. I have important work today, so you'll train on your own," he said, leaving the hall.
Nau Rin returned to her corner, slipped on her black gloves over her wrapped hands, and faced the heavy bag.
One… two… three.
Right straight, left hook.
Again and again. Her movements were mechanical, precise, each strike powerful, her breathing steady and controlled.
Suddenly, a voice called from behind her: "Go, Nau Rin!"
She turned to see Sunbae, her training partner. They shared almost nothing in common—be it weight, height, reach, or technique. Perhaps that was exactly why Nau Rin occasionally served as his training partner. Sunbae tossed a head guard toward her and motioned for her to get into the ring.
The look on his face immediately told her this wouldn't be an ordinary session. She considered declining, but the thought of refusing felt even harder than stepping into the ring. Reluctantly, she accepted his challenge and stepped onto the mat.
He was four years older. Though he had competed in many tournaments over the years, he had never reached the podium. Strong, technically skilled, yet emotionally volatile—quick to ignite and just as quick to falter.
On the ring, it was just the two of them. No judges, no supervision.
Nau Rin shed her shirt, revealing a short-sleeved black rash guard and knee-high black shorts. She strapped on her mouthguard and headgear, raised her gloves in front of her face, and stood silently in the center of the ring, poised and alert.