The sun had already dipped halfway below the horizon, casting long shadows across the empty training field. Winter, broom in hand, trudged around the dirt, mumbling dramatically to herself as she kicked a stray rock out of her path.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, sweeping the dirt in lazy, grumpy circles.

“Absolutely ridiculous. Me! Cleaning up this stupid field! I didn’t sign up for this. I’m the Winter Yu—heiress, genius, the legend. Not some… janitor.” She swatted at the ground with more force than necessary, sending a puff of dirt into the air.

She paused to glare at the tires she’d been tasked with stacking. “Do you know how much money I have? Do you know how many people I could pay to do this for me? And yet here I am. Cleaning. With my own two hands. It’s criminal.” She threw the broom down for effect, crossing her arms and glaring at the sunset like it was the source of her misery.

The field was so quiet that Winter almost forgot someone might be watching—until a voice interrupted her brooding.

“Are you planning to finish anytime this year?”

Winter whipped around to see Karina standing at the edge of the field, arms crossed, her silhouette outlined against the warm hues of the setting sun. Her expression was as impassive as ever, though her voice carried an edge of impatience.

“Or should I just leave you here for the night?” Karina added, raising an eyebrow.

Winter narrowed her eyes, picking up the last tire dramatically and slamming it onto the stack. “You know what? Why don’t you finish it? I’ve had enough!” She spun on her heel and started walking away, her steps exaggerated with all the righteous indignation she could muster.

Before she got far, she felt a firm tug at her collar. “Oh, no you don’t,” Karina said, her tone calm but laced with authority.

Winter yelped, stumbling backward as Karina pulled her around to face her. “Let me go!” she protested, struggling in Karina’s grasp.

“You’re not going anywhere until this place is cleaned up,” Karina replied, her voice steady and unyielding.

Winter yanked herself away with a sharp movement, but her foot caught on the edge of a tire. Her balance faltered, and before she could stop it, she was falling—straight into Karina, who also lost her footing.

They landed in a tangled heap on the ground, the air knocked out of both of them. Winter’s hands braced instinctively against something solid—Karina’s chest—but her momentum carried her forward until her face hovered mere inches above Karina’s.

Time seemed to freeze. Winter’s anger evaporated like steam, replaced by a sudden, dizzying awareness of how close they were. Her hands trembled slightly as they pressed into the dirt on either side of Karina’s shoulders, her body hovering just above hers.

Karina stared up at her, her normally sharp eyes wide with surprise. The setting sun cast a golden glow across her face, accentuating the curve of her jaw and the soft flush creeping up her cheeks. Winter’s gaze darted to Karina’s lips, dangerously close to brushing against her own, and then back to her eyes, which burned with an intensity that Winter couldn’t place but couldn’t look away from.

Her breath hitched. “Uh…” she started, but the words dissolved in her throat.

Karina’s lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but no sound came out. The space between them felt charged, the air heavy with something unspoken yet undeniable.

Winter’s heart pounded in her chest, loud and erratic. She could feel the faint rise and fall of Karina’s breath beneath her, her own heartbeat echoing in her ears. She didn’t know why she couldn’t move, couldn’t look away, but something about the moment had her frozen in place.

“Private,” Karina finally said, her voice low and almost uncertain.

The sound of her name broke whatever spell had fallen over Winter. She scrambled to her feet, backing away quickly and dusting off her pants to avoid looking at Karina.

Karina sat up, brushing a strand of hair from her face as she eyed Winter with a mixture of curiosity and something else that Winter couldn’t quite name.

“Don’t… don’t sneak up on me like that again,” Winter muttered, her face burning as she turned away.

Karina, still seated on the ground, smirked faintly. “I didn’t sneak up on you. You’re just clumsy.”

Winter shot her a glare over her shoulder but said nothing, her thoughts a jumbled mess as she grabbed the broom and marched toward the stack of tires. Her hands shook slightly, but she refused to let Karina see it.

Behind her, Karina got to her feet, brushing herself off and watching Winter with a faint smile tugging at her lips. Neither said another word, but the tension between them lingered, unspoken and undeniable.

The drive back to the safe house stretched on in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the air. Ningning and Yuna exchanged glances in the rearview mirror, sensing the unspoken tension radiating from the front seats, but neither dared to say anything.

Winter, sitting beside Karina, stole a glance at her. Karina remained perfectly still, her face turned toward the window, watching the passing scenery. The golden light of dusk spilled over her features, softening her usual sharp demeanor, but her silence was heavy.

Winter wanted to say something—anything—but every word she thought of felt wrong. She clenched her jaw and turned to her own window, huffing softly under her breath.

The safe house finally came into view, and as soon as the car came to a stop, Karina was out, heading straight for her room without a word. Winter frowned, hesitating before stepping out of the car.

“Don’t even try it,” Ningning said suddenly, stepping in front of Winter just as she made to follow.

Winter blinked, confused. “What?”

Yuna joined Ningning, blocking her path, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, you’re not going anywhere just yet,” Yuna teased, leaning casually against the car.

“What are you talking about?” Winter said, feigning ignorance as she tried to step around them, only for Ningning to sidestep in sync.

“You tell us,” Ningning said, her smirk growing wider. “What happened back there?”

“Yeah,” Yuna chimed in, crossing her arms. “The vibes were so weird on the way back. Did you say something? Did she say something? Did you two fight?”

Winter groaned, rolling her eyes. “Nothing happened, okay? Can I go now?”

“Not until you spill,” Ningning insisted, wagging her finger.

Winter pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath. “You two are annoying,” she grumbled.

“Oh, come on!” Ningning said, leaning closer. “Team leader doesn’t just storm off like that. You definitely did something.”

Yuna snickered. “Or maybe something happened.”

Winter’s face heated instantly. “Nothing happened!” she snapped, a little too loudly. She pushed past them, ignoring their protests.

“Winter!” Ningning called after her, laughing.

“Fine, keep your secrets!” Yuna added, chuckling as she leaned back against the car.

Winter didn’t stop until she was inside, her cheeks burning. She muttered under her breath, heading straight for her room.