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

Chapter 28: Regionals | Day 3 - The Relay

The sun was low when the KNSU relay team assembled behind the tent. The usual banter had dried up, replaced by a silence that pulsed with something heavier than nerves. JL stood near Steven and Han, but none of them spoke. Their proximity felt accidental.

Jeongwoo was the only one who tried to bridge the stillness. He clapped JL on the back and cracked a grin. "Just don't drop the baton. That's all I ask." Chih En rotated his shoulders and nodded. 

Steven exhaled through his nose, rolling his neck with a controlled snap. JL stretched quietly. Han stood a little apart, his expression unreadable. He looked like someone who didn't lose sleep over what came next. Coach Yang didn't give them a pep talk -- just clapped once and nodded toward the track.

The Relay Race

When the gun fired, Chih En exploded from the block. His form was textbook: knees high, arms pumping, jaw set but serene. With his looks, the cameras often lingered, but he gave them a reason to stay. He ran like someone determined not to waste the day.

He reached Steven and passed the baton cleanly. Steven was already in motion before their fingers had fully disconnected.

Steven ran with pure athleticism -- each step a controlled burst, his torso leaning forward with power and rhythm. His arms and legs moved like they'd been built in a lab. No overthinking. Just instinct. Just force. As he neared JL, his face changed, a flicker of something behind the focus.

JL was waiting. Their eyes met for a second -- just long enough for the baton to transfer, just long enough for something unspoken to rise between them.

JL took off like something had snapped inside him.

He didn't run like someone chasing a record. He ran like he was trying to outrun his entire past. Aggressive, elegant, brutal -- every part of him moved with a kind of desperation that made it impossible to look away. JL didn't run for applause. He didn't run for them. He ran because stopping wasn't an option.

By the time he reached Han, his lungs burned, but his grip on the baton didn't falter.

He thrust it forward. "Go!" he shouted.

Han didn't turn. He grabbed and bolted, like they'd practiced a thousand times, but this time, the connection was different. Charged. Off-balance.

The final hundred meters belonged to Han. Everything about him shifted into cold precision. His stride was perfect, his arms slicing through air like blades. No flash, no ego. Just the clean, mechanical execution of someone who knew what winning required and had never settled for less.

He crossed the finish line first.

The stadium erupted.

Chih En caught up first, jogging in and bumping shoulders with Han, then Steven, then JL. Steven crouched beside the barrier, catching his breath. JL stood off to the side, his chest rising and falling, sweat dripping into his eyes. He didn't move to join the others. Han didn't move either.

The crowd was still buzzing when the first posts hit social media:

@relayupdates: KNSU takes the lead!!

@nationalwatchers: If they're this terrifying now... how are they going to be when they reach Regional Eliminations?

@fanvidcentral: JL and Han didn't even look at each other after the win. Tension is thicker than the humidity.