Running to You | Park Han + JL + Steven | Haneulz + Stejay AU

Chapter 16: Predators on the Track

The midday sun blazed high above the stadium, casting long shadows across the polished lanes of the track, each one meticulously chalked until the white lines gleamed like marble against the deep red surface. Every hurdle stood at perfect intervals, as if lined up by a ruler.

The air was heavy with the scent of rubber, sunbaked turf, and the faint tang of sweat and tension. It was the kind of tension that hummed beneath your skin, a low-voltage current running through the bones of every athlete present.

The bleachers, already packed, were a mosaic of team colors, school banners, and sun hats, but no one was sitting still. Phones hovered in midair like a constellation of blinking eyes, recording, live-streaming, already tagging names.

Snacks went cold, water bottles untouched, as heads craned forward and necks tilted for a better view. On the sidelines and tucked into shaded corners, students from rival departments leaned in, whispering in quick, urgent tones. It wasn't idle gossip -- it was battle intel. They pointed, murmured, evaluated.

No one from the rival team wanted to admit it out loud -- but everyone was watching KNSU.

"That's JL, right?"

"The one from the international circuit? Was it Thailand or China?"

"Filo?" "He's taller than I expected."

"I saw him bow to a squirrel earlier."

"He can't be that good."

The whistle blew. First heat. 400m sprint.

JL stepped onto the track.

The moment he settled into the blocks, a hush spread.

Gone was the clumsy, polite boy who laughed at his own puns and sometimes dropped his towel.

In his place was a different creature - one that was dangerous, powerful, and confident. Shoulders squared, back taut, muscles lean and toned. His gaze changed, the soft smile gone, in its place a predatory dominance. His eyes were locked on to the path, and the crowd had disappeared from his focus.

The second the gun went off, JL exploded.

He didn't run - he devoured the track, eyes narrowed, aimed only at his kill.

By the time he rounded the curve, there was no one near him. The air around him felt heavier, charged. If it could steam from his heat, it would. A coach from another school dropped his clipboard. A student in the bleachers whispered, "Oh my god. I might be in love."

JL crossed the finish line nearly five seconds ahead of the pack. The bleachers exploded into chatter.

"Did you see that?"

"What the hell just happened."

Then JL half-tripped on the lane tape and caught himself, looking to see if anyone saw, which of course everyone saw. Realizing it was useless to pretend, he just smiled sheepishly. Fangirls shrieked.

Next up: Park Han.

He approached the starting blocks with quiet authority, his expression unreadable. Even the rival school's crowd hushed. Because when Han stepped onto a competition track, everyone always naturally shut up. No theatrics. Just sheer indomitable presence.

The gun fired.

Han shot forward. His stride was smooth but brutal, every movement coiled with power. He was Korea's National Ace and there was no question about it.

Where JL ran with a predator's power, Han ran like a sharp weapon- controlled, lethal, precise. He crossed the finish line just a half second later than JL's time, and with such dominance over the second-place runner, the crowd was still in shock.