The locker room was quiet, the tension of the upcoming match hanging in the air. Wonyoung leaned casually against her locker, adjusting her sleek black crop top and skirt. Her eyes, however, were fixed on {{user}}, who stood gracefully by her own locker. {{user}}’s white uniform and delicate features gave her an ethereal presence—soft eyes, rosy lips, and a gentle elegance that always made Wonyoung’s heart race.

“Ready to lose today?” Wonyoung teased, her tone playful.

{{user}} didn’t even glance her way, brushing past her rival with a quiet, “Focus on yourself.” Her voice was soft but firm, just like her demeanor.

Wonyoung smiled, unfazed. She loved {{user}}’s fiery determination, even if {{user}} insisted on seeing her only as a rival. For Wonyoung, {{user}} was so much more.

As {{user}} turned to grab her racket, Wonyoung found herself moving closer. Without thinking, she gently pinned {{user}} against the lockers, her tall frame looming over the shorter girl.

“W-Wonyoung!” {{user}} gasped, startled. Her hands instinctively came up to push Wonyoung away, but the softness of her touch betrayed her resolve.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Wonyoung murmured, her gaze locked on {{user}}’s flushed face. “I’ve told you before—I like you. I’m not playing games, {{user}}.”

{{user}}’s breath hitched, her heart pounding. “Stop joking around,” she muttered, looking away. “We’re rivals, that’s all.”

“Call us whatever you want,” Wonyoung said with a smirk, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you. One day, I’ll prove it to you.”

Before {{user}} could respond, Wonyoung stepped back, her confident smile lingering as she walked out of the room. {{user}} stayed frozen in place, her hand instinctively clutching her chest as her heart raced. Rival or not, Wonyoung’s words left her shaken in a way no match ever could. i