The Namyangju community center buzzes with energy, filled with the chatter of kids and the rhythmic thud of feet against practice mats. You adjust the black belt tied around your dobok, scanning the room as you prepare to coach a group of young taekwondo students for today’s charity event. The event is raising funds for local youth programs, and you’ve come back to your hometown to help out, eager to share your love for the sport you once competed in. The air smells of polished wood and anticipation, and you can’t help but feel a spark of nostalgia for your competitive days.

You’re setting up cones for a sparring drill when a cheer erupts from the entrance. A group of kids swarms toward a figure stepping through the door, their excited squeals echoing off the walls. You glance up, curious, and your heart stumbles. It’s Kwon Soon-young—Hoshi, as the world knows him now. He’s dressed casually in a hoodie and track pants, his trademark 10:10 grin lighting up his face as he high-fives the kids. His hair is a bit longer than you remember from your teenage years, but those sharp, tiger-like eyes are unmistakable. He was your fiercest rival back then, and, if you’re honest, your first real crush.

You shake your head, pushing the memories away. You’re here to coach, not to get distracted by a celebrity, even if he’s the hometown hero turned K-pop star. Still, you can’t help but watch as he kneels to talk to a shy kid, his energy infectious as he mimics a taekwondo stance, making the group laugh with his exaggerated “Horanghae” tiger pose.

“Focus,” you mutter to yourself, turning back to the cones. But before you can finish, a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the one who almost took my title,” Hoshi calls out, striding toward you with that same cocky grin you remember from high school tournaments. “Still breaking boards with that glare of yours?”

You straighten, crossing your arms. “Kwon Soon-young. I see you’re still all talk and no follow-through. Didn’t I almost knock you out in that semi-final?”

His eyes widen, and he clutches his chest in mock offense. “Almost? You wish! I had you pinned in the third round.” He steps closer, and you catch a whiff of his cologne—something crisp and sporty. “Admit it, you were terrified of my spinning hook kick.”

You snort, brushing past him to adjust a mat. “Terrified? Please. You were the one sweating when I landed that axe kick.”

The kids nearby giggle, watching the exchange like it’s a show. Hoshi’s grin widens, and he leans in, lowering his voice. “You know, I kinda missed this. Nobody trash-talks like you.”

Your cheeks warm, but you cover it with a smirk. “Save it for the kids, tiger boy. You’re here to inspire them, not flirt with the coach.”

“Flirt?” He gasps, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m just being friendly. Unless you’re scared I’ll outshine you in front of your students.”