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

Chapter 79: Unraveling

Sunlight slipped through the gymnasium windows at Korea National Sports University. The morning air was sharp, filled with the echoes of distant city noise -- a hum of traffic from Gangnam-daero, the rhythmic footsteps of students heading to early lectures, the soft metallic clang of equipment being set up by sleepy-eyed assistants. JL arrived earlier than anyone else, his footsteps echoing in the empty gym.

He stretched methodically, first his arms, then his calves, ignoring the ache that crept into his muscles like a familiar, unwanted guest. His phone vibrated with an incoming message. It was Woongki, sending another video compilation from last night's episode of some survival idol show called UT.

"Look at that kid in the sweater. Like isn't that literally you in another timeline?" 

JL watched the contestant -- who was Southeast Asian -- smile winningly for the camera and be promptly fought over by all three judges.

Not really seeing the resemblance, he put the phone done and turned on Silent Mode. He wasn't ready for idle chat, even less for banter. He inhaled deeply, laced up his shoes tightly, and moved to the indoor track.

As he started running laps, he forced himself to concentrate on the steady rhythm of his breathing and the controlled swing of his arms. But Eli's words slithered back, insidious, anchoring themselves to every exhale.

You'll end up right back home.

Each lap completed felt insufficient, every breath drawn more labored, yet somehow essential.

You've gotten so soft.

The track blurred slightly at the edges of his vision, but he pushed harder.

You're not one of them.

Every stride forward was a stride away from Eli's laughter, away from memories of that small-town track back home, now overtaken by weeds and despair.

"You're here early," came a voice from the sidelines.

JL slowed just enough to glance sideways and saw Chih En stretching by the edge of the track. Chih En had a certain way of occupying space without seeming intrusive, each movement precise, calculated. As JL slowed to a walk, Chih En arched an eyebrow slightly, a subtle expression that was more question than judgment.

"Couldn't sleep," JL admitted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

Chih En nodded, not pressing. "Nationals coming up."

"Yeah," JL agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt his pulse racing too fast, too insistent. "It's soon."

Chih En gave him a look that seemed to understand more than it revealed. "Pace yourself. No good coming this far just to burn out."

JL opened his mouth to respond, but the doors at the far end of the gym swung open, bringing the bright, unapologetic energy of Shuaibo and Woongki tumbling inside. They were arguing about something insignificant, their laughter too loud for the calm interior of the gymnasium.

"Absolutely not," Shuaibo insisted dramatically, waving his hands with flair. "TWICE is eternal. They're the blueprint. Your little Kep1er fixation is all glitter and chaos. Real icons have lore and clean formation changes."

"Excuse you," Woongki gasped, spinning halfway around to glare. "Kep1er has range. Stage presence, vocals, visuals, and the best synchronized hair flips in 4th gen. They are the moment."

Shuaibo shrugged extravagantly, like a noble throwing off his cape. "Clearly, you and I have different priorities."

Chih En turned toward them. "If we're talking about era-defining choreography, TWICE's 'Feel Special' is legendary. Kep1er, while formed through a survival show system, has surprisingly stable vocal lines and Yujin's presence anchors the group well."