The impact jarred up her arm.
Satisfying.
She threw another.
Harder.
Then another.
Building rhythm.
Jab. Cross. Hook.
Again.
Again.
Letting the motion clear her head.
"Your form's off."
She spun.
Haejin stood in the doorway.
Still in his hoodie and sweats.
Arms crossed.
Expression unreadable.
★☆★☆★☆
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I could ask you the same thing."
"I couldn't sleep."
"Neither could I."
He walked into the gym.
Let the door close behind him.
"Your left hook drops. You're telegraphing."
"I'm not here for coaching."
"No? Then what are you here for?"
"To hit something."
"Mad at someone specific?"
She didn't answer.
Just turned back to the bag.
Threw another punch.
He was right.
Her form was off.
Sloppy.
Frustrated.
She reset.
Tried again.
"Rotate your hips more," Haejin said from behind her.
"I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?"
She stopped.
Turned to face him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You tell me."
