Ling shoved him hard.
"Don't come between us," Ling said, voice low and dangerous.
Roin staggered back a step, hitting the wall with a dull thud. He didn't retaliate. He didn't raise his hands. He only looked at Ling with controlled anger.
Before Ling could take another step—
Rhea moved.
She surged up with sudden strength, grabbed Ling by the collar, and yanked her back with a force born of panic and rage.
"What do you want?" Rhea shouted, eyes wild, face streaked with tears. "Did I ask you to come here?"
Ling froze.
Her hands lifted instinctively not to touch, not to restrain just open, empty.
"Rhea, please—" Ling tried.
"No," Rhea snapped, cutting her off brutally. "You don't get to talk. You don't get to explain."
Her grip tightened.
Her body trembled, but her voice sharpened.
"You come near me like this," Rhea said, breath shaking, "like I didn't tell you to stay away like I didn't beg you to stop—"
She shoved Ling back once, hard.
"There is no us," Rhea said. "There never will be again."
Ling's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Rhea stepped closer not afraid, not backing down tears burning hot in her eyes.
"Don't you dare come again," she said. "Don't follow. Don't watch. Don't breathe in my direction."
Ling whispered, "I'm trying to—"
Rhea exploded.
"If you come near me again," she screamed, voice breaking through the corridor, "I swear I'll kill you myself."
The words were not a threat.
They were desperation.
Silence slammed down.
Roin moved instantly to Rhea's side, one hand hovering near her arm.
Ling stood frozen.
Her face drained of all color.
She looked at Rhea really looked and saw something worse than hatred.
She saw fear.
Fear of her.
Ling stepped back.
Once.
Then again.
"I won't," Ling said hoarsely. "I won't come near you."
Rhea didn't respond.
She turned her face away, body shaking, chest heaving as the adrenaline drained out of her too fast.
Roin guided her gently toward the wall, blocking Ling from her view without saying a word.
Ling took another step back.
Then she turned.
And walked away.
Just retreat.
Every step felt like walking on broken glass.
Behind her, Rhea slid back down the wall, sobbing again harder this time, hands gripping her hair, breath tearing.
Roin knelt beside her immediately.
"You're safe," he said quietly. "She's gone."
Rhea shook violently.
"I hate her," she whispered. "I hate that she still makes me feel like this."
Roin didn't correct her.
He stayed where Ling no longer was.
Ling walked toward the stadium tunnel, jaw clenched, eyes burning knowing she had crossed a line.
This was no longer unresolved love.
This was active damage.
And consequences had begun to move.
——
The crowd roared in waves.
Flags. Chants. Drums pounding against concrete ribs of the stadium.
Rhea sat rigid in the audience stands, hands clenched in her lap, eyes fixed forward but seeing nothing clearly. Her face was pale, jaw tight, breath shallow — like she was bracing for impact that hadn't arrived yet.
Roin sat beside her.
Too close.
Not touching but close enough to be noticed.
Ling saw them the moment she stepped onto the field.
She didn't need to search.
Her eyes locked instantly on the stands on Rhea's dark figure, on the unmistakable outline of someone sitting beside her, angled inward, shielding.
Something inside Ling cracked open again.
Her jaw flexed.
Her shoulders rolled back.
The whistle blew.
THE MATCH BEGINS
From the first sprint, it was obvious.
Ling wasn't playing strategy.
She was playing rage.
She charged harder than necessary, body colliding with opponents with brutal precision. Tackles landed a second too late. Shoves carried too much force. Her eyes burned not focused on the ball, but on release.
The crowd mistook it for dominance.
"She's on fire today!"
"That aggression—!"
Only those who knew Ling saw the difference.
Rina, watching from the side, stiffened.
Jian's mouth tightened.
Rowen muttered, "This isn't controlled."
On the field, an opposing player tried to block Ling's run.
Ling drove straight through him.
He hit the ground hard.
The referee's whistle shrieked.
Ling didn't stop immediately.
She stood over the fallen player for half a second too long chest heaving, fists clenched before backing away.
Yellow card.
The crowd erupted.
Rhea flinched at the sound.
Her fingers dug into her sleeves.
Roin leaned slightly closer, instinctive. "You don't have to watch."
"I do," Rhea said tightly. "I just— I need to know where she is."
Roin nodded, eyes never leaving the field.
Ling looked up again.
And saw it.
Roin leaning in.
Rhea not moving away.
A quiet, protective angle to their bodies.
Something hot and irrational surged up Ling's spine.
Her next play was reckless.
She intercepted a pass that wasn't hers to take slamming into her own teammate in the process. The ball flew loose. Chaos erupted.
An opponent shouted something sharp mocking, laughing.
Ling snapped.
She shoved him hard.
Not play-hard.
Personal.
The referee blew again.
Red card this time.
The stadium gasped.
Ling stood frozen, staring at the official not surprised, not apologetic.
Rina swore under her breath.
From the stands, Rhea's breath hitched.
Roin felt it immediately.
Ling's gaze lifted one last time straight to the stands.
Straight to Rhea.
For a split second, the stadium disappeared.
Rhea felt it like pressure on her chest familiar, invasive, unwanted.
Roin shifted then.
Deliberately.
He leaned forward, blocking Ling's line of sight with his body.
Ling saw only his back.
Something vicious twisted inside her.
She turned away sharply as officials escorted her off the field.
The crowd buzzed confused, excited, hungry.
Ling walked down the tunnel alone.
Boots echoing.
Breath uneven.
Hands shaking now that the movement had stopped.
She slammed her fist into the concrete wall once.
Hard.
Pain flared up her arm.
Good.
She deserved it.
Rhea exhaled shakily only after Ling disappeared.
Her body slumped back into the seat, drained.
Roin didn't speak.
He simply stayed where he was solid, unmoving.
Rhea whispered suddenly. "I make her worse."
Roin shook his head once. "You didn't cause this."
Rhea didn't answer.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the empty field where Ling had been moments earlier where power had turned into destruction, and obsession into something dangerous.
The locker room corridor smelled of sweat, disinfectant, and adrenaline that hadn't burned off properly.
Ling stood with her back against the cold wall, jersey half-unzipped, chest still rising too fast. Her knuckles were scraped. One wrist throbbed where she'd slammed it earlier. She hadn't looked at the injury.
She was still thinking.
Rhea.
That man.
Too close.
Rina came fast, footsteps sharp, controlled anger in every step. She didn't soften her voice. She never did with Ling when it mattered.
"Ling."
No response.
Rina stopped right in front of her. Close enough that Ling had to look up.
"This," Rina said flatly, "is not how you're going to earn her back."
Ling let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a snarl.
"I wasn't trying to earn anything today."
"That's a lie," Rina shot back immediately. "You don't burn yourself like this for sport."
Ling pushed off the wall, pacing once, then stopping again. Her jaw was tight enough to ache.
"I said I won't be angry," Ling muttered, forcing her voice into something resembling control. "I promised Dadi. I promised myself."
She stopped walking.
Then, quieter dangerous.
"But I hate that chimpanzee who's sitting with her."
Rina's eyes narrowed. "Don't."
Ling turned sharply. "Don't what?"
"Don't reduce her choices to your jealousy."
Ling laughed once, sharp and humorless. "Choices?" She stepped closer to Rina, voice low. "He's not a choice. He's a placeholder Kane shoved in front of her, I'm sure. He's a shield. A message."
Rina didn't move. "And what message are you sending?"
Ling's lips parted. Closed again.
Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
"That I still exist," she said finally. "That I'm still here. That I see everything."
Rina exhaled slowly. "Ling. You scared her today."
Ling flinched not outwardly, but her shoulders stiffened.
"She screamed at you," Rina continued, relentless. "That wasn't strategy. That was trauma."
Ling dragged a hand through her hair, nails scraping scalp.
"I know what she said," Ling snapped. "I heard every word. I replayed them while I was running like an idiot out there."
She looked down at her palms.
"She told me to stay away. She told me she'd kill me herself if I came near again."
Her voice cracked just slightly. Enough that Rina noticed.
"And yet," Ling added bitterly, "she sat there. She watched."
Rina softened just a fraction. "Because she can't turn you off. Not yet."
Ling swallowed.
"That man," Ling said again, slower now, colder, "doesn't belong there. He doesn't know her. He didn't hold her when she broke. He didn't hear her breathe change when she felt safe. He didn't—"
"Stop," Rina cut in. "This isn't possession. This is punishment. You already punished her."
Ling's eyes snapped up. "I punished myself too."
"Not enough," Rina said quietly. "Because if you had, you wouldn't be looking at her like she's something stolen from you."
Ling looked away.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Ling said, almost to herself, "I don't want to hurt her anymore."
Rina studied her face. The tension. The denial layered over guilt.
"Then you need to learn how to be present without claiming," Rina said. "Without threatening. Without pushing other people just because they exist near her."
Ling laughed again softer this time. Tired.
"You're asking a lot."
"I'm telling you the truth," Rina replied. "Because if you keep doing this, Kane won't have to destroy you."
Ling's mouth tightened.
"She already is," Ling said. "Using him. Using the crowd. Using distance."
Rina didn't deny it.
"But you can't fight that by becoming what Kane wants you to be," Rina said. "Unstable. Obvious. Easy to point at."
Ling leaned back against the wall again, eyes closing briefly.
"I hate him," she admitted. "I hate the way he looks at her like she's fragile. Like she needs guarding."
"She does," Rina said. "Just not from you if you do this right."
Ling opened her eyes.
"And if I do it wrong?" she asked quietly.
Rina held her gaze. "Then you lose her for real."
Ling nodded once.
Not agreement.
Acceptance of the risk.
Ling still stood against the wall, jaw clenched, eyes dark, anger barely contained under layers of discipline she was forcing onto herself.
Rina watched her for a long second.
Then she laughed.
Not loud.
Not mocking.
Calculated.
A short, sharp sound that made Ling look at her instantly.
"We'll deal with the chimpanzee too," Rina said lightly, tilting her head. "And do it so well that Rhea won't even get angry at you for it."
Ling frowned. "That's impossible."
Rina smiled slow, dangerous. "You're thinking like someone who wants control. Not like someone who understands optics."
Ling straightened slightly. "Explain."