
KAP 13
Rummaging through his memories, he recalled the morning of a home game one year ago.
It was while he was having breakfast with his teammates at the school cafeteria, psyching themselves up for the game as usual.
Suddenly, Levinsky screamed as if he had seen a ghost, drawing everyone's attention.
"Fuck, fuck...! They're out of Lucky Charms!"
Levinsky was clutching his head with a look of utter despair in front of an empty cereal dispenser.
Lucky Charms was a brand of cereal. It was a product where small marshmallows symbolizing luck, like clovers and horseshoes, were scattered over corn puffs.
Levinsky absolutely had to eat that cereal before a game; it was, so to speak, a kind of jinx.
Levinsky shouted at the kitchen staff, asking if there were any more Lucky Charms.
The staff member replied in an irritated voice, "We're out. They come in tomorrow."
Upon hearing this, Tristan's eyes narrowed.
Liar.
They were probably getting revenge for when Levinsky complained a while ago that there weren't enough protein options on the cafeteria menu. He brought it on himself.
"Captain... something's wrong. Do you think I'm going to get injured in this game?"
Watching Levinsky whine while slumped over the table, Tristan let out a sigh.
Levinsky's role as the goalie was crucial for this game, and it was a problem that his mental state was collapsing even before it started.
In fact, not just Levinsky, but most hockey players had all sorts of jinxes.
One guy who never shaved his beard throughout the entire season. Another who would put his stick in the toilet to "punish" it if the game wasn't going well. And one who drank water until his urine came out transparent before a game.
Since hockey is a sport where the outcome is swayed by all sorts of variables, it wasn't surprising that they had jinxes. However, Tristan found it pathetic.
'Jinxes are just superstitions that only work on weaklings who believe in such things.'
That's why I shouldn't create such things in the first place.
Tristan pathologically avoided relying on anything.
He didn't even drink coffee, as he hated relying on it for alertness. For the same reason, he avoided alcohol, the ultimate social lubricant.
Regardless, managing the teammates' mental state was the captain's responsibility.
'What to do. This is getting tedious.'
The timing was awkward to go to a grocery store before the game, and persuading the kitchen staff was exhausting. Just as the situation was becoming bothersome in every way.
An Asian girl sitting at a distant table was staring intently in their direction. Tristan's brow furrowed at her curious gaze.
What are you looking at?
He shot her a cold look as a warning.
Usually, students would be intimidated and slowly look away when he stared like that. Instead, the girl abruptly stood up and began walking toward them.
What is this?
Tristan leaned back deeply into his chair, staring at her with an arrogant posture.
Her spirit is commendable, but I hope she doesn't annoy me with some brazen trick before the game.
Having reached the hockey team's table, the girl pulled something out of her hoodie pocket.
Then, ignoring the male students who were whistling with interest, she silently tore open the packet and poured it over Levinsky's bland bowl of corn cereal.
What tumbled into the bowl were colorful heart, clover, and star-shaped marshmallow pieces. Once mixed with the corn cereal, it looked quite like actual 'Lucky Charms.'
Seeing this, Levinsky's eyes widened as if they were about to pop out.
"Uh! W-what is this? Are you an angel? Th-thank you!"
The moment Tristan let out a low laugh and was about to offer his thanks, the girl indifferently turned away.
Returning to her seat, she pointedly put in her earphones and went back to focusing on her meal.
Her attitude was as if to say, I've solved the problem, so now shut up and be quiet.
At that moment, Tristan couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh.
It was the moment he realized how ridiculous his assumption had been—that she would ask for an autograph or a photo.
Levinsky poured 110% of his capability into the game that day and blocked every single one of the opposing team's pucks.
The teammates agreed that the victory that day was thanks to the protection of the 'Marshmallow Girl.'
He had forgotten about her since then, only to encounter her again by chance at the pub on the day of the initiation. It was also the first time he learned her name.
Kora Han.
The haughty woman reminded him of a kitten with its claws fully extended. But how much could it even hurt if she scratched him with those tiny claws?
Above all, that gaze—which seemed to pierce through his inner thoughts—was irritating.
That was why he had deliberately provoked her at the pub.
It was better to be hated than to be ignored.
Looking at her, he wondered what she was hiding beneath that prim attitude.
I wonder how long you can keep acting so composed in front of me.
Suddenly, a powerful impulse arose to completely break that girl. What would it be like to swing wildly, dig through everything, and make her cling to the soles of his feet?
In truth, Tristan wasn't particularly interested in women.
Nevertheless, there were many women around him desperate to get involved with him. To those who valued appearances, Tristan was a coveted trophy.
Even if he showed no particular interest, women would misinterpret and inflate the fleeting kindness he threw their way like alms, suffering through self-inflicted hope before inevitably getting hurt. It was a nuisance.
However, Kora, who still seemed uninterested in him, was an opponent who required a sophisticated strategy.
So, just as he used fakes to lure defenders during a hockey game, he threw her a bait.
Last time at the pub, just before paying, he deliberately opened his credit card app and pressed the 'Temporary Suspension' button.
The declined payment was planned, and by leaving his expensive watch with her, he set a sophisticated trap that forced her to come find him of her own accord.
After a week of waiting, he didn't know how thrilled he was when she finally appeared.
He even lured her into the arena and called her into the locker room just to show her him playing.
'She'll be thinking of me constantly after that day.'
The fact that Kora had mimicked him ridiculously at the pub was proof of that. Proof that his existence was deeply etched into her subconscious.
However, Luca Cruz, who was sticking close to her, was quite annoying. A quarterback as a rival... Not bad, Kora.
"¿Es tu novia, verdad?" (She's your girlfriend, right?)
"Todavía no, pero pronto." (Not yet, but soon.)
From the looks of it, Kora didn't understand Spanish at all.
To think she was smiling like that, unaware that Luca Cruz was hiding filthy intentions behind a harmless 'boy next door' mask.
A surge of irritation hit him.
To think he's capable of smiling like that after scanning her as if she were a bug.
Luca Cruz was skilled at making people lower their guard. His attitude toward Kora was excessively intimate, and he had no hesitation with physical touch.
Tristan closely observed as Luca's hand naturally wrapped around Kora's shoulder.
The fact that Kora showed no particular aversion to the contact proved that the psychological distance between the two was quite close.
'But at least they haven't fucked yet. If they had, Cruz's hand would have been on her waist or ass.'
It had become a bit more bothersome, but perhaps it was actually for the best. The more obstacles there are, the more interesting the game becomes.
.jpg)