Love was a game, but never a predictable one. And Son, as strategic and careful as he always was, didn’t know how to take part in this game. The woman he met, on the contrary, was one of those who chose to get lost in love, to be caught in the whirlpool of emotions. Being with her was like a challenge for Son. He had never felt so out of control in anything other than football in his life.

While the woman was tearing down Son’s walls one by one with each look, she was leaving him defenseless. The depth he felt when Son stood in front of her had never been found anywhere else. But something still stopped him. Love is a game, yes, but it is a game filled with the fear of losing. When he lost, he could lose his heart completely.

Every time they met, the woman acted as if they were playing a game. She was intelligent, elegant, and cunning. Sometimes she would suddenly move away, sometimes she would take a step closer. This back and forth was driving Son crazy. One day, the woman had asked him, “Why do you take love so seriously?” Smiling, he continued: "Isn't this a game? You don't have to win or lose. You just play, you feel."

Son remained silent at these words. In his world, everything depended on a result. Every struggle was for an end, every effort was for a gain. But love? What was the result of love? The woman didn't promise him a result, she just lived in the moment.

One evening, Son and the woman were walking in a park. The leaves falling from the trees rustled under their feet, and the woman gently held Son's hand. There was a secret hidden in her eyes.

"What will be the end of this game?" Son asked with a slight fear.

The woman smiled. "Maybe there is no end," she said. "If love is a game, we just keep playing. Forgetting the rules."