Dahyun was pulled out of focus because of the rowdy excitement from the soccer boys. They trailed on longer now. Unlike the sporadic, short bursts of cheers when someone scored a goal or made an incredible pass.

She paused her typing and the song playing from her earbuds became background. She looked up to see them dispersing loudly. It was midnight, and Tuesday had just gone around. They were done with practice.

This had become a new routine: sitting at the corner side of the very long bleachers. There was a speckle of others like her too, extraneous and nosy, lounging around. It had started the week before. When she finally took Jungkook's suggestion to settle on the rows of tables behind the stadium. When it became uncomfortably late to be alone. Remarkably, it was a weird place to be in. To hear and feel the palpable thrill of the game rush through her but not to see what had incited such reactions. It left her with an itching curiosity that made it hard to focus. It was unremarkable that she wound up at the stadium, found a seat among the many empty ones, watched the game for a bit from the distance and went on to do some light work. Only, she kept doing it.

Though, unlike the couple of times before, she stayed until the end this time.

She watched most of the boys unhurriedly grab their bags, and then leisurely walked towards the nearest building she knew had an extensive washroom. Au contraire, some stragglers were headed her way. Although no one had their attention on her except for a fleeting glance. Dahyun averted her gaze from overtly affectionate couples that were suddenly everywhere and threw her gaze far when she caught the sight of him. His expression was unabashed with amusement at a joke he shared with Kim Yugyeom. She had seen him wear his frustration unapologetically earlier too. It was like he had his door wide open. Like he was not afraid of people and what they thought of him.

He paused when he caught her looking. She froze only for a little then nodded at him in acknowledgement. He returned it. Then, he was gone. Soon enough, they were all gone.

But Dahyun loitered.

She cut across the tartan track, found a wayward deflated ball, and dribbled it along testingly until she was in the middle of the field. She dropped her bag nearby on the wet, dewy grass. It felt vast. The sky and the ground seemed endless here; like she could never run fast enough to escape. She wondered how anyone could feel empowered here.

"Why are you still here?" Someone hollered and Dahyun whirled to see that the security guard making rounds had his attention on her.

Dahyun jogged over to the edge of the field so he could hear her reply, "Just thought to run around for a bit," she said, in a raised voice. Her mother would have baulked. She had always been a stickler for etiquette and social niceties. Dahyun would not have done it if she had not thought it would be a waste of his time. To make him wait for her to close the big distance just to engage in polite conversations.

"The lights will turn off in a minute," he warned.

"That's alright," she said, disarming, "I won't stay long. And there's still light from everywhere," she said pointing at the streetlamps and lit buildings close by, "You must be busy. Please don't mind me and go ahead," she smiled at him politely and waved him goodbye.

"It's not safe," he told her, "I'll keep one of the lights on for you. Don't stay too long."

"Please, that's not necessary," she told him. She did not like feeling like she was imposing.

"I'll keep it on," he said, firmly, the tone in his voice brooked no argument, "And you'll leave in half-hour."

"I will," she said to placate, "Thank you. Have a good night," she wished him farewell and hoped that only good things come his way and his family.

The day-like brightness suddenly dimmed after he was gone. But he had kept on one floodlight beaming as he had promised. She still could see the entire stadium, from end to end. But now, she felt the companion of night. She could tell some stars apart if she squinted.

Dahyun kicked the ball around as she ran, trying to put some measured and deliberate force so it would go where she wanted it to go. She felt rusty. But it was almost as easy as she remembered it to be. She used to play around with the avid boys obsessing over football when she was so much younger as their parents hung out. They competed over everything. Even fought to teach her some cool tricks they had learnt. She had been an embarrassing player when she was seven: had let a very slow ball roll past her guard into the makeshift goalpost because she could not get it to stop with her foot when she could have used her hands. They had lost because of her. But all of them had only been patient and kind. Kim Yugyeom had been one of them.

She got better because of them, of course. Good enough to be the first few picks for games they would play during pe in middle and high school.

She dribbled along purposively now. Had gotten used to the feel of the ball on her feet. Her attention honed towards the goalpost while she zigzagged as she remembered going against the older boys in her childhood.

In one moment, the ball was hard on her inner foot, and in the next, it was rolling backwards. It was confusing until she understood it was a steal. The tackle was too fast; too smooth that she did not realise while it was happening. She did now. Dahyun struggled to turn her body against the inertia that had her running forward still.

It was surprising to find Jeon Jungkook grinning at her just a little away. He was fresh from the showers. Wet hair, white tee, black joggers, and ball he had stolen in the air with his fancy foot tricks.

His mirth was contagious.

"That's not fair," she jogged towards him, eyes focused on the ball, brain trying to see an opening for a steal, "I didn't know I was playing against someone. I didn't have my guards up."

It was true. But it was also her excuse because she was no match for Jeon Jungkook. This was his turf. It was stunning to see him play from the stand. But nothing quite prepared her to see his precise manoeuvres this up close. His entire body winded confident and graceful as he teased the ball at her. The movements enamouring: he was enamouring.

"I didn't know you play," he said while he countered her attempts to take it back from him easily.

"I don't play. I'm just messing around. Everyone around me liked football and I liked them around. You get the picture," she said, brow furrowed in concentration.

"You're quite good," he said matter-of-factly.

"Doesn't feel like it," she grunted jokingly, "But since it's coming from someone as great as you, I shall believe it and take the compliment," she beamed.

He eased his footwork, and she took the opportunity to tackle the ball away from him. Dahyun smiled wider because of it, proud, "I know you've gone easy on me. But it's still a big feat. Not just anyone can steal that from you," she breathed heavier because of the many words she said to ward off any comments from him that might curtail her achievement.

"I didn't say anything," he told her but had slyly taken the ball back into his well-defended fort.

Dahyun huffed, equal air and sound, in frustration. She grabbed his shirt from the back; tugged at it like she had seen the older boys do. She knew it was bad sportsmanship. But there was no referee to call her out on the foul, and he was not calling her out on it either. In fact, he looked like he enjoyed seeing her struggle. She intended for it to physically restrain him from finishing his perfect dribbling. But he was stronger, better at using his body to protect the ball. He blocked her with his shoulders skilfully.

Small wonder that he had not expected the slide tackle from her. She took pride in that. It caught him off guard. Though not enough that he would let her finish the manoeuvre. Breathlessly, he shifted to gather her by her waist before she could hit the ground to stop her. He hauled her upright. She grasped him. It was inadvertent.

But it did not translate as beautifully as he must have imagined it in his head. Because he had tripped over her limbs. The momentum had them floundering over a long distance, held onto each other. He steadied her when it felt like she was free-falling before the tables turned, and they went round and round. What a picture they made…A desperate, artless waltz to defy gravity.

When it finally ended and they both regained their balance, she had her entire torso pressed firmly against his side; his forehead gentle on hers. Belatedly, her breath staggered. She closed her eyes to pretend that it was not him this close to her. It was not his hard breaths she heard, not his flesh and sinews she felt under her palms. She did not need to worry. The moment was gone before it even began.

He twisted around her; the ball loyal to him. He ran straight towards the goal like he was desperate to escape her. But it had not been his limits. She knew he could run faster; run as if his life would depend on it. She wished he did so it would not feel like she could still run after him.

She was barely at the centre line when he crossed the penalty area line. He kicked a long ball meant to score then. The impact thundered indignantly. Unlike that of a well-inflated ball. Yet, it arced beautifully in the air; sailed strong towards where he wanted it to go. Dahyun watched the net catch it mid-air securely before it dropped to the ground, stone-cold.

Dahyun wished she had a net to stop herself from catching all these feelings. It was so easy to like him. She was as much as the ball a marionette, going in any direction he wanted them to go. No matter what, she could not tell herself that this was a bad idea. So, Dahyun crossed over the centre line to pick up her bag and his that was nearby. Then, went to him who was collecting the wretched ball.

“That was beautiful. You should teach me that sometimes,” Dahyun hollered over the distance.

“Is it Yugyeom?” He asked when she was closer.

“’ Is it Yugyeom’ what?” she echoed his question, thoughtful.

“Is he the one who likes football, and you like around?”

“Is that what you’ve been thinking since a while ago?” She broke out into a teasing smile.  

“Not for that long. I’m just trying to get the picture,” he corrected, unwilling for her to misunderstand his intentions behind the words. It felt comforting. Even if she had no net to stop her; could not stop running toward him, she could trust him to maintain the distance between them.

She smiled and answered, “One of them. We grew up together.”

He frowned.

"We should go. The lights are going off soon," Dahyun said bringing him out of his reverie.

Awareness eased the lines on his face.

“Right. Why isn't it turned off already?" He wondered, curious.

"The guard offered to keep one on for me," she told him.

“He did?”

“After I asked him to.”

"He never did even when we begged him to," he told her.

"He must have been new,” she guessed. 

“Everyone seems to like you,” he observed. She pretended that his intense gaze was not discomfiting.

She fought the urge to tense her shoulders. Instead, wearing languidness over them, she challenged, “Do you?”

“I won’t say that I like you,” he said after her question railed him off the track of his thoughts.

She laughed. It blew the splinters of awkwardness away gently.

“That’s fine. I won’t say that I like you too.”