Halfway across the playroom, Jiyu released a long sigh and stopped. Without turning around, she asked,
“What is it? I don’t have time, so make it quick.”
She was pleased by how cold her voice sounded.
Behind her came the scrape of Hunter pushing back his chair, followed by his approaching footsteps. A moment later, he stepped in front of her and blocked her path.
Jiyu stubbornly kept her gaze lowered, refusing to look at him.
“You really don’t know what I’m about to say?”
Even when asking for a favor, Hunter had no idea how to humble himself.
Jiyu turned her head aside and let out an exaggerated sigh for his benefit.
“If you have nothing to say, I’m leaving. I have homework to do at home.”
When she tried to walk around him, he quickly moved in front of her again.
“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not finished.”
“……”
“There’s a tournament on Friday. My first L1 tournament.”
Jiyu waited for him to continue, but apparently that was the entirety of his explanation.
Junior tennis tournaments were organized into levels, beginning with the lowest, Level 9, and progressing all the way to the highest, Level 1.
She had heard from her mother that Hunter, who had recently broken into the UTR 7 range, had been seeded in the USTA National Indoor Championships, an under-fourteen Level 1 tournament.
Her mother was forever gossiping about the Hamilton family, so the news had reached Jiyu whether she wanted to hear it or not.
When she remained silent, Hunter added irritably,
“This is Level 1. A national tournament. Don’t you understand what that means?”
“No, I understand. So what? What does it have to do with me?”
Jiyu knew that, as always, she would eventually give in.
Ever since they were children, an invisible hierarchy resembling that of master and servant had existed between them.
But this time, she did not want to bow her head so easily.
It was a strange stubbornness she had never felt before. Perhaps the hormones of puberty, raging through her body, had chosen Hunter rather than her parents as the target of her rebellion.
“Kiss me.”
Hunter held out his hand.
“No.”
She turned her head away obstinately.
“Hah… Are you still sulking over what I said back then? Stop acting like a child, Ju Parker. You were the one who started saying weird things in the first—”
Jiyu seized his fingertips and lifted his hand. She brushed her lips against it in the briefest, most perfunctory kiss imaginable, then flung it aside and glared sharply up at him.
“Satisfied? I’m leaving now. If you block me again, I’ll scream. Move, Hunter Hamilton.”
Her knees threatened to buckle, and her voice trembled beneath the force of her first-ever act of defiance.
Jiyu clutched her notes and workbooks tightly against her chest like a shield. Leaving the stunned Hunter behind, she fled the playroom and raced through the living room as though her life depended on it.
She yanked open the elevator doors, hurried inside, and repeatedly jabbed the lobby button, terrified that he might come after her.
When the chime sounded and the elevator began its descent, she released a breath of relief and slumped against the wall.
It was the first time she had ever spoken harshly to Hunter.
Her body was still trembling faintly. Deep inside, she felt refreshed, but anxiety soon followed.
What if I can’t keep attending the math tutoring because of this? It would be far too expensive to study alone.
Mom loves visiting the Hamilton house more than anything. What if she can’t come anymore because of me?
Hunter… He probably hates me even more now.
For some reason, the thought made her sad.
Jiyu sat on a bench in the courtyard for a while before going home, letting the cold air strike her face.
It was an early winter evening, and the solitary treehouse standing in the courtyard looked strangely lonely.
***
At his first L1 tournament in Chicago, Hunter delivered the worst performance of his career and failed to win a single set.
His UTR rating dropped as well.
Unable to resist her curiosity, Jiyu checked his match results on the tournament website. Even though she knew it was not her fault, she could not help feeling slightly guilty.
His scores had been disastrous not only in the main draw, but also in the consolation bracket reserved for players who lost their opening matches. It looked as though he had simply given up on the tournament.
Hunter usually played even better against stronger opponents ranked above him, darting across the court with relentless energy.
Even when he lost, the score alone made it obvious that he had fought with fierce determination.
This time, however, he had lost by humiliating margins even to players with lower UTR ratings whom he had always defeated with ease.
That surprised her.
On Sunday, the day Hunter returned to New York from Chicago, he summoned her to the treehouse in the courtyard.
Jiyu had decided to ignore his message and stay home. Yet shortly before the appointed time, she changed her mind on impulse.
She pulled on a thick sweater and stepped into the courtyard.
The last traces of yellow afternoon sunlight barely clung to the edge of the garden. The fountain had fallen silent for the winter, and the entire courtyard lay beneath a gloomy wash of bluish-gray light.
Cold wind slipped beneath her sweater.
Jiyu hunched her shoulders, wrapped her arms around herself, and walked toward the treehouse.
Thump. Thump.
The sound of a tennis ball striking the wall echoed through the courtyard.
Several balls Hunter had left behind rolled around inside the treehouse, and children who came to the playground occasionally played with them.
But the person hurling the ball against the wall now was unquestionably Hunter.
The violence of each impact made it sound as though he were trying to smash something apart.
He was anxious.
And furious.
Jiyu hesitated, considered the situation for a moment, then turned around.
‘I shouldn’t have come.’
She did not want to deal with Hunter when he was angry.
She had taken only one step toward home when the pounding abruptly stopped.
“Ju Parker. Stay right there.”
It was unmistakably Hunter’s voice, yet she had no idea when it had grown so deep and low.
Not long ago, whenever he raised it even slightly, it would crack awkwardly in several places.
Jiyu did not want to turn around.
She wanted to fling open the courtyard door, run home, and hide.
But her legs stiffened as though wax had been poured into them, leaving her unable to move.
As he always did, Hunter jumped down in a single motion through the slide entrance. Then he strode quickly toward her and stopped directly in front of her.
Clutching a tennis ball in one hand, he breathed heavily as he looked down at her.
Jiyu stood with her arms wrapped around herself and her gaze fixed on the ground.
She forced out her voice.
“…Why did you call me?”
“I have something to say.”
“What is it?”
She cautiously lifted her head a fraction, but for some reason she could not summon the courage to meet Hunter’s eyes.
Logically, she knew that his defeat was not her fault.
Even so, a strange sense of guilt had seized her by the hair and refused to let go.
‘I should have kissed him properly when he asked.’
She had never imagined that such a ridiculous superstition could ruin Hunter’s tournament so completely.
“Ju Parker, you’re not my winning jinx anymore.”
Jiyu’s head snapped up.
Hunter’s vivid blue eyes flickered intensely, like sparks from a welding torch.
“…That’s why you called me out here?”
“Yeah. Having to beg you pathetically every time I had a match was fucking annoying. But I don’t need you anymore, Ju Parker. You’re not my winning jinx or anything else now.”
He bared his teeth and repeated the last word with deliberate cruelty.
“You’re nothing. Nothing.”
Jiyu’s lips trembled.
Her arms and legs tingled as though they were about to cramp.
The faint guilt she had felt vanished in an instant, swallowed completely by rage.
Her nose stung.
Then her eyes began to burn.
She felt wronged.
She felt hurt.
Jiyu bit her lower lip until it ached. Only after the trembling had subsided did she lower her gaze and draw a deep breath.
“Good for you.”
She was relieved that her voice sounded calmer than she had expected.
Apparently dissatisfied by her reaction, Hunter scoffed.
“What?”
“I’m relieved too. Now I don’t have to play along with your ridiculous jinx anymore.”
Jiyu glared up at him through narrowed eyes.
She could not stop the tears from spilling from their corners.
She had known Hunter since she was six years old and had endured countless things because of him, yet this was the first time she had ever cried in front of him.
“I was annoyed too. I hated it too, Hunter Hamilton.”
Her voice was as cold as the winter wind.
Watching shock slowly seep into the eyes fixed on her face gave her a strange sense of satisfaction.
Tears slid down her cheeks, gathered at her chin, and fell one drop at a time.
All color had drained from Hunter’s face.
He opened and closed his mouth as though he wanted to say something. When he swallowed hard, the small protrusion in his throat bobbed visibly.
That had not been there before.
Jiyu stared at his throat for a moment, then turned away coldly.