FALLING FOR THE FIGHTER

SEOUL SOUTH KOREA
Seoul General Hospital

The storm didn’t wait for her to land.

By the time Jennie arrived at the hospital, Seoul was already buzzing.

Flashes exploded the second her black SUV pulled up to the ER drop-off. Dozens of reporters swarmed the front entrance, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder like a riot in slow motion. They weren’t there for her — not initially. They’d come for Lisa.

The undefeated. The prodigy. The girl who bled her way into MMA history.

But when the car door opened — and Jennie Kim stepped out, sunglasses on, hoodie pulled low, jaw tight with fury and exhaustion — everything changed.

Gasps. Screams. Paparazzi shoved forward, cameras raised, mouths already open.

“JENNIE! OVER HERE—”

“IS IT TRUE YOU LEFT THE MET GALA—”

“ARE YOU HERE FOR LISA MANOBAN?!”

The questions hit like bullets, but Jennie didn’t flinch. Mina was already two steps ahead, clearing the path with practiced precision, holding up her phone like a shield while security flanked them both.

“Keep moving,” Mina whispered. “Don’t stop. Don’t say a word.”

Jennie didn’t plan to.

She breezed through the entrance, heels loud against tile, her pace unrelenting. Her hoodie was oversized, but nothing about her presence felt small. The hospital’s lobby turned into a war zone of whispered gasps and shaky phone recordings. But Jennie didn’t break stride. Not once.

She took the elevator to the 6th floor. Recovery Wing. Her hands clenched inside her sleeves. Her jaw locked so tight it ached.

When the doors opened, she stepped out into the quiet corridor—

And saw them.

Jisoo, Seulgi, Chaeyoung, and Jeongyeon.

All sitting casually like this was a reunion picnic. Cracker crumbs. Canned coffee. One of them barefoot. Another playing Sudoku. Jisoo stood the second she saw Jennie, her face frozen between guilt and mischief.

Jennie stopped.

Arms crossed. Voice low. Lethal.

“You said she wasn’t okay.”

Jisoo blinked.

Then smiled — slowly, innocently. “Technically… I said she was bleeding.”

Jennie took one step forward. Dangerous. Controlled.

“You said she wasn’t waking up.”

“She wasn’t!” Jisoo defended, her hands raised like a criminal caught mid-crime. “For like… fifteen minutes. It was very dramatic.”

“Jisoo—”

“We just needed confirmation!” Chaeyoung blurted from the bench, not even pretending to look sorry. “Of you two!”