LOVE:ZERO

Jiyu  knew that Hunter wasn’t the type to share a small umbrella with someone… he’d rather sprint through the rain at full speed.

He’d always been that way. But today, despite getting soaked, he walked with deliberate ease.

‘Did he wait to walk with me?’

She opened her mouth to ask, then closed it again.

‘No way.’

Asking would only earn her a scoff. Jiyu scrambled to find a safer topic.

Fortunately, Hunter didn’t impatiently rush her, even as his answers lagged slightly, just like when they were kids. Grateful, she settled on a neutral subject.

“Are you going to Spring Fling too?”

“Spring Fling?”

He raised an eyebrow.

The ‘Spring Fling’ was a seasonal dance party for students at Manhattan’s all-girls and all-boys private schools.

The spring event bore that name, while the fall counterpart was called the ‘Fall Fest’ held in five-star hotel ballrooms or grand event halls, tickets cost $200 per person.

“You know, the dance party.”

“Oh. That.”

These coed dances had been held yearly since 5th grade, when middle school began, but Jiyu had never attended.

Chloe’s parents had banned her from going until 9th grade, and Jiyu had postponed going out of solidarity. She’d been curious but never desperate to go.

As far as she knew, Hunter hadn’t either. The parties were usually on Friday evenings, and he spent most weekends at tournaments, with Friday afternoons reserved for special training with his coach.

“What about you?”  Hunter asked back.

“I’m thinking of going this time. With Chloe.”

“When’s the party?”

“Two weeks from Friday. Are you going?”

He pulled out his phone, checking a schedule crammed with charts labeled “Tournament Dates.”

“Maybe.”

‘Maybe ‘ in Hunter-speak meant definitely. ‘

Jiyu hid her surprise. One weekend a month was tournament-free, reserved for reviewing matches apparently, the timing aligned.

When her apartment building came into view, she sighed in relief. It was astonishing they’d conversed civilly, without sarcasm or bickering, all the way home.

“Stop by the tree house first.”

Jiyu glanced up questioningly. Hunter handed her his folded umbrella.

“There’s a tournament this weekend. It’s L2, but I’m entering the under-18 bracket instead of under-16. College coaches will be scouting.”

Something cold and bitter settled in her chest.

‘Of course. I almost fooled myself. Good thing I didn’t ask.’

She’d forgotten, the only reason Hunter would wait in the rain, sharing an umbrella in step with her, was for this.

‘Stupidly.’

“You’re not even changing? You’re drenched.”

Jiyu’s voice flattened.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll wait. Go change if you want.”

“…I don’t care either.”

Deflated like a balloon, Jiyu went to the tree house, but she couldn’t afford to argue with Hunterl, she just wanted to get the ‘jinx’ ritual over with and hole up in her room, and read.

The two people who entered the apartment lobby walked in silence toward the corridor leading to the central courtyard, maintaining a slight distance between them.

In truth, Jiyu had expected Hunter to bother her for a while before realizing how foolish it was and stopping. But even in ninth grade, he still called her out like this before important matches.

After researching online how meticulously athletes adhere to pre-game routines, she reluctantly convinced herself to comply.

She only agreed to come out to the treehouse once every three requests. When they were younger, it was hard to refuse because she wanted to read books from Hunter’s personal library. Now, she could simply borrow books from the school library instead.

Yet she couldn’t completely ignore his demands, partly because Hunter’s connections allowed her to receive math tutoring from top-tier instructors at minimal cost, and partly due to the stubborn affection she felt under the shadow of Lauren’s influence.

Truthfully, whenever the great Hunter Hamilton deigned to summon her to the treehouse, she felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.

The rainy courtyard looked oddly desolate. Though it was too early for evening, the dim light had already settled over the high-ceilinged apartment complex.

The Art Nouveau-style wrought-iron benches, painted in muted green, stood between classic gaslamp-shaped fixtures that glowed faintly.

Thick raindrops swirled around the yellow light like summer moths trapped in a vortex.

Neither bothering with an umbrella, the two quickened their pace toward the treehouse.

“Go up first.”

At the ladder, Hunter jerked his chin toward the entrance.

Thud—

Lost in thought, Jiyu mechanically climbed the ladder before slipping. One leg slipped through the rungs, and the weight of her backpack nearly tipped her backward.

“Whoa!”

Her backpack slammed hard against something.

“Ugh.”

‘Was he about to call me a munchkin?’

“Munchkin” was the nickname he used when his younger sister Daisy climbed his exercise equipment for dangerous stunts. Nearly falling into a puddle in front of Hunter and being treated like a child was mortifying.

With Hunter steadying her, Jiyu wrestled her leg back onto the platform, flailing her arms to regain balance.

Hunter muttered impatiently.

“Stay still. I’ll help you up.”

He unwrapped his arm from her waist, gripped her forearm firmly with both hands, and slowly pulled her upright.

‘Oh no… My skirt’s too short. Did he see anything when I climbed up?’

Though school regulations required her to wear shorts under the skirt, her cheeks burned anyway. She shook her head violently to dispel the thought.

As a child, the treehouse never felt small, even when crowded. Now, it seemed to shrink every time she visited.

It felt like just yesterday they’d sit here… her reading on the couch, him clambering onto the roof and leaping down with a thud. She couldn’t believe years had passed.

‘Is this what adults call nostalgia?’

Growing up was… complicated.

As Hunter straightened his posture, his head brushed the cobwebbed ceiling. Startled, he ducked and shook his hair like a wet dog, spraying water droplets everywhere.

Jiyu wrinkled her nose and turned away.

Hunter trudged over and plopped down beside her.