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KWON SAT IN HIS CHAIR, his knee bouncing uncontrollably as he stared at his phone. It sat propped against a cup on the table, angled perfectly to catch his face when the call came through. His hands were clasped together tightly, the tension evident in the way his knuckles turned white. He had been sitting there for nearly twenty minutes, his mind racing. After hours of back-and-forth texting and what could only be described as desperate begging, Aisha Robinson had finally agreed to speak with him.

Aisha Robinson. The name alone made his chest tighten. She was y/n's best friend—the one person who could either make or break any hope he had of reconciling. If this conversation went badly, he knew he'd have no chance of fixing things. And he needed to fix things.

When the screen lit up, signaling the incoming video call, Kwon's breath hitched. For a moment, he hesitated, his finger hovering over the "accept" button. Then, steeling himself, he tapped the screen and leaned forward.

Aisha's face appeared, her expression unreadable. Her tight curls resembling the mane of a lion, and she wore a simple grey hoodie. She looked calm, but her eyes carried a weight that immediately made Kwon feel like he was under a spotlight.

"Korn," she greeted, her tone neutral but firm.

"Y/n's... friend," he replied, his voice betraying the nervousness he felt. "Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. I know this is weird."

Aisha raised an eyebrow. "Weird doesn't even begin to cover it," she said, folding her arms. "Look, I'm only doing this because I don't think you're the type to hurt y/n/n intentionally. But let's be clear—if you give me any reason to think otherwise, this conversation is over."

Kwon nodded quickly. "I get it. Completely. And I'm not here to make excuses or anything. I just... I need you to understand where I'm coming from."

"Alright," Aisha said, leaning back in her chair. "Start talking."

Kwon took a deep breath. "Look, I know I messed up. I know things between me and y/n have been... complicated. But I swear, I never meant to hurt her. It's just—everything got so messy so fast. I didn't know how to handle it."

Aisha's expression didn't change. She gave him a pointed look, waiting for him to continue.

"She means a lot to me," Kwon admitted, his voice softer now. "Probably more than I've ever let anybody know. But I'm not good at this stuff. I'm not good at saying how I feel or... figuring things out when I'm in the moment."

"That's obvious," Aisha said, though there was no malice in her tone. "But what I don't get is why you're even coming to me now. y/n's not just my best friend—she's like family to me. If you want me to believe you care, you're gonna have to give me more than vague apologies."

Kwon nodded again, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I know. I just... I didn't know who else to go to. You're the one person she listens to. The one person she trusts. I thought if I could explain things to you, maybe you'd help me figure out how to make things right."

Aisha sighed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You're putting a lot on me here, Kwon. And I still don't know if you deserve it. What exactly happened that day between you and y/n?"

Kwon's hands trembled slightly as he leaned forward, rubbing them together nervously. He exhaled shakily before meeting Aisha's piercing gaze.

"It was... the other night," he began hesitantly, his voice low, almost as if saying the words would make them more real. "My halm- grandmother—she's been in the hospital for weeks now. It's been tough. I've been trying to keep up with everything here, but back home, things are falling apart. I couldn't go to see her, and it... it felt like I was failing her."

Aisha's brows furrowed, her expression softening just a fraction. "I'm sorry about your grandma, but what does that have to do with Yoo-mi?"

"I'm getting to that," Kwon said, his voice raising slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "The night before, I... I was drinking. Too much. I know it was stupid, but I just needed to shut everything out for a while. The next day again I took something. A shot I think."

Aisha stayed quiet, giving him space to continue.

"I don't even remember half of what happened," Kwon admitted, his tone filled with regret. "But I remember going to see Yoo-mi. I uh, I wanted to personally thank her for her family's aid and needed someone to look after halmoni while I'd be here in tournament. I don't know why I did it. Maybe it was because I didn't want anybody else to find out. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding my judgment. But we talked, and then..."

"And then what?" Aisha prompted, her voice calm.

"She kissed me," Kwon said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked away, shame etched across his face. "And for the first time, I didn't push her away."

Aisha's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't interrupt.

"I don't know why I didn't stop it," Kwon continued, his voice growing more desperate. "I was drunk—wasted. I didn't even realize who it was until it was over. When we pulled away, it hit me like a truck. I was standing there, looking at her, and all I could think was, 'What the fuck have I done?'"

Aisha's expression hardened again. "So, let me get this straight. You didn't just let her kiss you—you kissed her back."

"I didn't mean to," Kwon said quickly, his words tumbling over each other. "I swear, Aisha, I didn't. It wasn't like I wanted it to happen. I didn't even realize it was happening until it was too late."

"That's not good enough, Kwon," Aisha said, her tone sharp now. "Do you have any idea how much this must have hurt y/n? She already has trust issues, and you just gave her another reason to shut down."

Kwon flinched at her words, his jaw tightening. "I know I screwed up. I know I hurt her. But I can't let this be the end. I need to make it right. Please. You have to believe me—I'd never intentionally hurt her. Never. Not even in fight. Not worth winning!"

Aisha stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she spoke, her tone measured but firm. "You've got a lot of work to do if you want to fix this. A lot. And honestly, I don't even know if she'll give you the chance. But if you're serious about making it right, you need to start by being completely honest with her. No lies. No half-truths. She deserves to hear it from you."

Kwon nodded, his throat tightening. "I know. And I will. I just... I don't know how to face her after this."

"Well, you better figure it out," Aisha said, her tone softening slightly. "Because if you don't, you'll lose her for good. And trust me, Kwon—you don't want to be on the other side of y/n's walls. Once they go up, they don't come down."

Aisha leaned back in her chair, exhaling deeply. Her stern demeanor softened slightly as she studied Kwon's expression—raw, vulnerable, and riddled with guilt.

"Look," she said gently, her voice losing its earlier edge. "I'm not saying this is going to be easy, but you need to tell her. Communication is key withy/n. I know she's been through a lot, but if there's one thing she values, it's honesty. Even if it's harsh. She might not like hearing it, but she'll respect you more for being upfront."

Kwon scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "You make it sound so simple. But it's not. She doesn't listen. Not when it comes to me. And I don't even blame her. I've given her every reason not to trust me. But still... it's frustrating. Annoying. Hopeless."

Aisha tilted her head, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Hopeless, huh? If it were really hopeless, you wouldn't be sitting here, practically begging me for advice."

Kwon let out a dry laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. "Touché."

"You've got to stop thinking of this as a battle, Kwon," Aisha continued, her tone turning warmer. "y/n's stubborn, yeah, but she's not impossible. You just have to meet her where she's at. Maybe... go the extra mile. Do something that shows her you're serious about making things right."

Kwon raised an eyebrow. "Like what? Apology speech?"

Aisha rolled her eyes. "No, you idiot. Something thoughtful. Romantic, even. You know she loves cupcakes, right? Get her some with a note. Or flowers. Or something that shows you actually put effort into this."

"Cupcakes?" Kwon repeated, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

"Yes, cupcakes," Aisha said firmly. "And don't just hand them to her like it's a chore. Make it personal. Write her a note. Show her that you're sorry—not just with words, but with actions."

Kwon considered this for a moment, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. "You think that'll work?"

"I think it's worth a shot," Aisha replied with a small shrug. "You know her better than I do in some ways. Just think about what would make her smile, even for a second. And if you're honest and genuine, she won't have a reason to refuse."

A faint glimmer of hope flickered in Kwon's eyes as he nodded slowly. "Alright. Cupcakes it is. And maybe... something else, too. I'll figure it out."

"That's the spirit," Aisha said, giving him an encouraging smile.

The tension between them eased, the conversation settling into a more comfortable rhythm. They exchanged a few light remarks about their shared memories of the y/h/c-haired girl, and Aisha even cracked a joke about how y/n once beat up the entire dojo, thinking they devoured her box of cupcakes, a particularly rough day, when it reality she forgot she hid it in her locker before training.

As the call neared its end, Aisha leaned closer to the camera, her expression turning serious but kind. "Korn, I'm rooting for you. But remember—this isn't just about winning her back. It's about showing her that you're someone she can trust. So don't mess it up again, alright?"

"It's KWON! ...and I won't," Kwon promised, his voice steady. "Thanks, really. For giving me a chance to explain."

"Don't thank me yet," Aisha said with a playful smirk. "You've still got a long way to go. But good luck. And, Kwon?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't overthink it. Just be real with her. She'll see it—eventually."

Kwon nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Got it."

As the call ended, Kwon leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. For the first time in days, he felt a spark of hope—a chance to set things right. Now, all he had to do was follow through.

Kwon stood in the garden, the cool night air brushing against his skin as he crouched by the hotel's rose bushes. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for a perfectly bloomed rose, his breath unsteady. It wasn't the act of sneaking the flower that unsettled him—he'd done worse things without a second thought like stealing the last cupcake by intimidating the kid who was about to grab it. 

No, this was different. This was for her.

The sharp prick of a thorn against his finger made him wince, but he barely noticed the sting as he carefully plucked the flower. He straightened, inspecting the crimson petals under the soft glow of the garden lights.

A nervous laugh escaped him. "Really? A rose? You're that guy now?" he muttered to himself in Korean, shaking his head as he started walking back toward the hotel.

The short walk to her room felt like an eternity. Every step seemed heavier than the last, his pulse quickening as he turned over the words he wanted to say in his mind.

"Y/n, I know I screwed up. I know I haven't been the easiest person to deal with, but I... I care about you. More than you probably realize. Here have a flower. Smells almost as good as you!"

He stopped mid-hallway, shaking his head. "No, too creepy. Try again."

He started pacing as he approached her door. "Hey, y/n/n. So, funny story—I stole this rose for you. Risked my life. Got glared at by a child's mother, a thorn in my hand. No big deal. But the thing is... you're worth it. And... I wish it was your lips I kissed the other night! Ugh. Too corny."

Kwon groaned, running a hand through his hair. The nerves were unrelenting, a tight coil in his stomach that only wound tighter with each passing second. He clutched the rose like it was his lifeline, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he finally turned the last corner and stopped in front of her room.

And then he saw it.

The air left his lungs in a single, sharp exhale as his entire body froze.

Robby Keene. 

The captain of Miyagi-Do. The guy he'd just humiliated in front of everyone earlier that day.

What the fuck?

Kwon's breath hitched, and he tightened his grip on the rose, the thorns pressing harder into his skin. He didn't even notice the sharp sting of pain—his focus was entirely on the scene before him.

The boy stood in the doorway, casual and composed, like he belonged there. Like it wasn't the middle of the night. Like it wasn't weird that he was at her room.

And y/n l/n...

Y/n stood just inside, her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed in nothing but her pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, her hair slightly messy, like she'd just been getting ready for bed. Her expression was hard to read—neutral, maybe a little tired—but she didn't look uncomfortable. She didn't look surprised.

Kwon's heart dropped, a storm of emotions erupting inside him so suddenly it felt like a physical blow.

Confusion. Why is he in her room so late at night?

Anger. Why does she look so calm about this?

Jealousy. What the hell were they doing together this late?

And hurt. Deep, gut-wrenching hurt that he couldn't even fully process.

He watched as Robby said something to her, his voice too low for Kwon to hear from where he stood. y/n nodded slightly, her expression unchanging, before stepping forward and pulling the door open wider. Robby stepped out into the hallway, sparing her one last glance before turning and walking away.

Kwon's gaze flicked between them—Robby's retreating figure and y/n standing in the doorway, watching him leave. She didn't look flustered. She didn't look like she was going to slam the door and act like it was nothing. She just stood there, arms still crossed, before finally stepping back into her room and closing the door softly behind her.

Kwon felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. His grip on the rose tightened, the fragile petals crumpling slightly under the force of his fingers. He couldn't think straight. Couldn't breathe straight.

Why the hell was he here?

Why was she letting him in?

What does this mean?

Before he could stop himself, Kwon turned on his heel and stormed back down the hallway, his footsteps heavy and uneven. The rose hung limply in his hand, forgotten and crushed.

His chest burned with a mix of fury and frustration, the words he'd so carefully rehearsed now meaningless.

What's the point? he thought bitterly, taking a bite of the cupcake, his mind racing with every possible explanation for what he'd just seen.

But no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, one thought kept echoing louder than the rest.

She was with him...

And that thought alone was enough to make him walk away...

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