Just Holding Hands and Sleeping♪
I spotted the Gym Owner and Seung-hee chatting while looking at someone. I sidled up quietly. Soon enough, I knew who it was.
No way I wouldn't recognize him. Nine wins, zero losses, made it all the way to Road to WFC, but had to drop out mid-tournament due to a weigh-in failure.
He was from the same gym as me. We'd never met in person, though. And after that weigh-in flop, he'd gone on a two-fight skid and was basically on the retirement track. That guy was here now.
As I approached slowly, Seung-hee waved at me.
"Hey, it's Si-hyeok. Si-hyeok, over here!"
"Hm?"
The guy they were talking to turned around. Golden-dyed hair, tanned brown skin. Long limbs. Ban Jin-ho. Ring name: Ban Desanya. A conditional Adesanya-style striker, true to his moniker.
"Ah, this is the kid? He's young."
"Hey there."
"Yeah. The Gym Owner talks about you a lot."
"Haha, I've watched a ton of your fights too, hyung."
"Heh, Gym Owner. I'm not washed up yet."
The mood lightened up. But I couldn't smile. He was one of the guys I'd always wanted to fight.
The Gym Owner looked worried. "Jin-ho, I get that you wanna enter like Si-hyeok here."
"If this young punk can do it, why can't I? I wanna start over. No more wandering."
"Still, you've been out a long time. I can help with the entry, but..."
"Don't you know me? I'm Ban Jin-ho. Ban Desanya!"
I glanced back and forth between Jin-ho and the Gym Owner. Jin-ho's face looked dead serious. If he was truly passionate about fighting and had the talent...
That's romance right there. Perfect fit.
Plus, Jin-ho had his reasons to come back. That unfinished dream: WFC. Or even if not quite that, he probably wanted one more shot at his prime.
If your dream ends unfinished, it'd eat at you.
Even now, Jin-ho was trying to convince the Gym Owner. Sure, some gym rats are smooth talkers, but Jin-ho was showing his heart with his clumsy words.
I asked carefully, "Gym Owner?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I spar with Jin-ho hyung? No-holds-barred full sparring."
"What, what?!"
Not just the Gym Owner—even the other gym folks training nearby turned to stare in shock.
Jin-ho whistled. He looked intrigued.
The sweating Gym Owner shook his head. "Si-hyeok, I know you're good. But Jin-ho..."
"He's this serious. Gotta give him a shot."
"You know how it is coming back after a long layoff? One injury could end it all."
"Then let him prove it to himself. Jin-ho hyung's not dead yet, right?"
Jin-ho grinned at my words. "Call me hyung."
"Got it, hyung."
Seung-hee swallowed hard. Sudden, but she was a fighter too. Probably hooked now.
"Si-hyeok, still... it's Jin-ho."
Then Jin-ho shook his head and slung an arm around my shoulder. "I'm in. I'll show you."
"Fine, fine. Sigh."
The Gym Owner relented reluctantly. He'd retired early himself, so he probably got it—that desperation.
And just like that, the spar was on.
Hiss, whoosh. I slipped on my gloves and caught my breath. This was proof.
For me. For Jin-ho.
We climbed into the cage. He followed. Facing off, the weight was different. Nothing like my previous opponents.
This is the real deal.
Voices from the crowd. The usual hard-training guys were all spectators now.
"This is pay-per-view worthy, right?"
"Even Si-hyeok can't beat Jin-ho. Fact."
"Jin-ho made it to WFC's door."
"Jin-ho by 1-second KO."
The Gym Owner stepped in as ref, eyeing us reluctantly before declaring, "Both of you, back up."
We retreated to our corners. He yelled, "Ready? Ready?"
We nodded. My chest burned.
"Fight!"
Glove touch. Then—thwack! Thigh pain. As I registered it, a straight came at my face.
Whoosh! I ducked and swallowed. Chills.
I'd thought it was out of range. He's half a beat faster on attacks. Speed? No, those long limbs.
Jin-ho shrugged his shoulders sporadically, then calf-kicked again. I checked it, threw a one-two to gauge distance. But a check hook flew in. I leaned back to dodge.
Tough. Distance is tricky, and combos and setups keep chaining.
Jin-ho eyed me like a beast. Not the mild guy from before. A monster. The one who'd crushed rivals in the cage once.
Sweeps, feints, hooks! No room to attack. It got frustrating. No momentum, setups disrupted. Stuck.
I charged straight in. "Hoo."
Snapped jabs to close distance. Thigh kicks hit both legs anyway. As another came, I switched stance and uppercutted. But a hook grazed my cheek simultaneously.
What? I turned my head, barely slipping it. Heart pounding.
Jin-ho had switched too. Insane. Is this what makes a real fighter?
But why the shakes? Why the thrill?
First real rival. Fear of losing. Nobody likes defeat. But me? Shaking like a kid on Children's Day waiting for gifts.
This is fun. Let's go.
Light steps. Jin-ho's specialties: quick feet, varied combos. Striking on another level. Answer? One.
"Huwook!"
I exploded off the mat. Ducked low four-lows to close. Baited with big whooshing hooks. He went for a check hook—I ducked lower. Knee to his hand.
"Kuh!"
Jin-ho recoiled in surprise. I chased, grinning. Striker like that? Ground's your relative weak spot.
One-two into high kick. He guarded, just defending—unlike before. Mixed light strikes, threatened takedowns. Jin-ho slowed.
Gotta slow eventually. Long layoff. Only heard about me.
I smacked my lips. Breathing crisp, unreal. Body accelerating. Vision locked on him—bliss.
I'm alive.
Jin-ho jabbed to check. I watched the end. Slipped by head slip, ducked in.
Smack! Body shots in flurries. As he ducked more, overhand hook skimmed his cheek.
His shocked face. Now!
Closed tight, drove to cage. Punched his armpit to block clinch. Knee to thigh, side, body.
Momentum flipped. Crowd gasped.
"What? Jin-ho's backing up?"
"Weird. He had the edge."
"Long break. Stamina dropped."
"Yeah, first workout in ages."
Wrong. I out-tacticked him.
Pushed his chin with my forehead, kept kneeing. Then dropped for single leg. His right leg trembled.
"Krrk!"
Jin-ho tried to spin to side. I followed, dumped him. Cage floor thud—cheers erupted.
I tilted to his right. "Tch!" As he reached for my wrist, I guard-passed opposite. Half guard, pinned his arm with knee.
Whoosh, thud! He punched back. Cool, even now.
But too close to hurt. This is my turf!
He grabbed my wrist. Shake and stand—he'd gain edge. I released the pinning arm, took top mount.
He flowed to give back, turning head to stand. First and last mistake!
One arm across throat, other dug behind neck—locked. His face, looking up: shock.
Clean Ezekiel choke.
"Mmph! Kuh, kekk!"
Panicking to escape, too late. Should've stayed grounded, wrist-fought, swept. But layoff and ground not his forte—error.
Tap out quick. Gym Owner rushed in. "Tap, tap! It's over!"
"Phew. Good work."
I released, stood. Cells raging. Body hot. I'd zoned in hard.
Cheers and claps around. "Crazy, beat Jin-ho?"
"Ban Desanya?!"
"Where's this guy flying to?"
"Genius. Pure genius."
Offered hand to Jin-ho. Helped him up, smiled. "Good fight. Still got it."
"You too. Got talent, kid."
"Nah."
"Hah, next time I won't lose?"
I chuckled, left the cage. Seung-hee smacked my shoulder like she'd been waiting.
"Ow!"
"Dude, you're insane. Beat Jin-ho?!"
"You're scarier."
"So cool! Hiya, that was awesome! Hehe."
She beamed like it was her win. I smirked, headed to shower.
Post-shower, homebound. Felt freer than usual.
This is me.
Checked time—shocked. Way later than normal. How deep was I?
Didn't wanna bask in today's win.
Wanna get stronger. Got things to protect now.
The girls' faces flashed by. Entered home. Dark, as expected. Headed upstairs to my room, paused. Slipped to Romi's door. Knock knock.
"What?"
"It's me."
"Hmph, come in."
Still up? Surprising. Entered. Romi was in bed, about to sleep.
"What?"
"Uh, just... bedtime?"
"Check the clock."
"Right, then."
Turned to leave, stopped. Faced her again. "Let's sleep together."
"Oppa, you nuts?"
"Who you take me for? Just holding hands. For real."
"Sigh, whatever."
No refusal from Romi. Grinned, shed my padding, killed the lights. Slid into bed, lay beside her. Hugged her warm.
"You weren't waiting, right?"
"Hmph, no?"
She was. Tough face, but her heartbeat thrummed. Cute.
She caught my look, changed subject. "Warm, in your arms, oppa."
"Course. Who am I?"
"Mine."
"Yeah, yours. Hehe."
Stroked her hair. Inhaled her scent, met eyes. Her pale pink lips moved.
"Won't say look only at me. I'm confident."
"Yeah."
"But love me most?"
"Duh. You're mine."
"Night."
"Night, my girl."
Peck with Romi. Turned to kiss. Sticky, sweet—bodies trembled. Eyes closed, embraced, we slept.
Quieter, holier than any night.