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

Chapter 65: If You've Seen It

The thing about metal bats was the satisfying way they rang -- clean, sharp, merciless.

Thwack.

Han liked that sound. The echo of it. The brief illusion that something had been settled with one perfect hit.

He adjusted his stance, rolled his shoulders once. The machine whirred. Another pitch came.

Thwack.

The ball sailed into the net, fast and unceremonious.

He didn't look up.

It had been almost a month since Supermeet. Since Eli showed up like a virus from JL's past and detonated whatever ground he'd just started to stand on.

Han hadn't spoken to JL since the locker room. Not really. He'd said things -- things that made sense in his head, that sounded like discipline and strength.

"One bad memory and you fall apart."

He winced now just thinking about it.

Thwack.

The cage rattled faintly. It was cold tonight. His breath fogged up in front of him in little puffs, like everything he wasn't saying was trying to leave his body another way.

He didn't go to the team gym anymore.

Steven and JL were always there now -- spotting each other, lifting like gods sculpting themselves from marble. JL had changed. Gained definition in places Han hadn't expected. His shoulders broader. His posture taller. His presence louder, even in silence.

Steven was always nearby. Steady. Unassuming. Devoted in that unbearable way that made Han feel both admiration and envy coil in his chest.

Thwack.

The bat vibrated in his hands. A little sting. A little reminder.

He remembered the way JL used to hold himself -- tight, inward, like a secret. And now...

Now he laughed sometimes. Not loudly. But real.

He saw it once. From a distance.

JL, wiping sweat from his jaw with the hem of his shirt, Steven tossing him a protein bar, their shoulders brushing like it meant nothing -- or maybe everything.

Han stepped back.

The machine paused.

He inhaled slowly. Rolled his neck. Slid another token in.

The truth was, he didn't resent Steven. Not really.

Steven had shown up. Said the right things. Held JL through the worst of it.

Han... Han had punched a wall in frustration and called that love.

He didn't know what he was angrier at -- JL for not breaking the way he understood, or himself for not trying harder to understand the way JL actually broke.

Thwack.

Another clean hit. Straight into the net.

He imagined every ball as a version of what he should've said.

You did your best.

You didn't deserve that.