Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“1...  2.  3.  And…”

Fuck, A weak tap of a slim hand on the ring’s ground gathered the attention of the referee, the flashes of the camera picture Miru’s partly conscious body on her stomach. My head almost fuckin’ slipped away you jackass!! Her peer eyes crossed over to the young man who had just nearly choked her out, a tall red-haired man with broad shoulders and back who extended his hand to help the blonde-haired woman up to her stance. “Jang Miru has tapped out!” the host shouted in English despite having a Korean accent. The host’s remark ticked her usual facade away like a fly, encouraging a frown across her glabella. Her jaw tightened, as she stared at the tall man before her. Her pride strangled her neck like a pair of hands tightly wrapped around her neck though her weakened state screamed at her to take the man’s hand.

Her jaw tightened, her eyebrows furrowing north. The male’s keen eyes picked up on this body language ; is she angry? Upset? “I'm fine.” Her tone said otherwise—despite the negative expression, she responded to him softly. Her tone is at odds with her expression. He raised an eyebrow. Usually, anger sparked a forceful response, yet Miru's behavior was unexpected. “Are you alright?” This reaction piqued curiosity at the red-haired male, “How many times do I have to tell it to ya, bastard.” However Miru’s patience had reached its peak and now she couldn’t hold back and flicked the man’s forehead as opposed to actually punching him in the face—Miru imagined that if she punched him, or worse, kicked him in the side. She could be disqualified.

Miru Lee. Ssireum Champion—I never expected you to be this mature.

“Don’t get too cheeky with yer ass, Han-Byeol.” Han-Byeol Lee, MMA rising star, Daddy Lee (Nickname). “I'm not gonna lose next time. On the streets.” a smile traced Han-Byeol’s attractive, magnetic features. His narrowed round black eyes gape at sultry, grey almond-shaped eyes, the smile on his face made the crowd around them go wild—shouting and cheering, “Must be nice to have someone cheer for you, huh?” she questions, fixated on Han-Byeol’s eyes as he stared back. Though not friendly, it wasn’t unpleasant—it was nothing but a friendly banter between opponents. “Not really, I get DM’s every day—” he pressed his lips in a thin line manner that raised an eyebrow from Miru. “Like, thirsty—”

“I get that.” Both athletes sigh in unison from the shared experience. “And— don't change the subject dumbass,” she remarked, turning away from the handsome male. Sliding off the hem of her judo dobok, wearing the opposite attire from the half-naked male where you could see the sweat — from the recent match — pricking down his chiseled abs, broad shoulders, and back. Reflecting the light on his skin from the bulbs above, his eyes were drooping, almost closing his eyes from exhaustion. “I’m telling you to avoid getting yer ass beaten in the streets.”

Laughing, Han-Byeol’s chest heaves with each laugh. “It sounds like your gonna beat my ass,” he pants out, the air out of his lungs laughing. “Whatever, just don’t go cray-cray on the streets,” she remarked with a sigh. Her eyes subtly shifted to the side, her eye spotting a man with a nametag on his shirt saying ‘Baek Do-yun’. “You’re already a fuckin’ athlete,” she said, the words hanging heavy in the air as she turned and walked away. Her hair that had fallen down the side of her face, shadowed her heavy-lidded, dull eyes as she walked paths away from the male from the contrary side. Her head tilted almost imperceptibly before a fleeting glance, lingering only a moment, a final glance at the man before she turned away. 

“Fuck this shit.” she spat underneath the shallowness of her breath, her hands balled into a fist albeit relaxed once a reporter held out a mic towards her direction, causing her to glance at the reporter who was forcing himself to walk closer to the athlete’s direction though was blocked by a security guard’s broad build. Her eyes once again caught sight of Han-Byeol, wearily, eyes lingered on the man a little longer until something, an abrupt announcement forced her to divide her attention and shift her gaze to the speaker. “Everyone, thank you very much for coming and we’ll see you again next time!” 

Once the announcement ended, her eyes once again desired to catch sight of the man again, though his footsteps echoed away. “Ah fuck,” she hurried to the locker rooms, her legs quick towards her destination she couldn’t hear the shout clearly and stopped—her left foot accidentally conflicted with her right foot which made her lose her balance and fall to the ground. “Who’s bald noggin’ called me,” she groans. “I'm goin’ to shower, jackasses.” As she spoke in English, her eyes detected a man’s shadow slowly approaching her from behind—she called out, her assertive, “Who the fuck are ya?” she swiftly stood up, swerving around to look at the person behind her, her eyes glanced to the side before her tone returned softly. “it was fucking you?”

“Coach fuckin’ Baek?” she said, placing her hands on top of her wide hips. Do-Yun shook his head before emitting a sigh, his arms crossing over his chest—leaning back from Miru who asked. “What da fuck is up with yer ass today?” Shaking his head, Do-Yun took a long time to respond which prompted Miru to recall her actions—subtly craning her head to the side, her grey eyes spoke for themselves. 

As though asking, Do-yun finally responded however his tone wasn't exactly casual albeit, softer and— sorta understanding? “I saw you earlier,” he said, raising his hand to pat her on the shoulder—though their height difference made it so that Do-yun had to raise his subtly broad arm higher. Miru subtly lowered her head, shadows covering her face, turning blue, her eyes wearily glanced to the side. “Are you okay—” her voice, filled with a recent scar formed. 

Her silhouette moved closer to the tall man with a grey mustache, a frown was encouraged as she moved closer. Her eyes cast over the man’s name tag pinned on the left side of his shirt just above his chest. “Coach Baek,” she calls out, her smooth voice rolling on their ears. The man’s attention directs— no, is directed to Miru. As Miru towers over the ssireum coach, her mouth opens though his rough, ragged yet comforting voice cuts through her. “It’s alright, champion,” he lifts his right hand with a scar on the side of his palm, as though something had been struck through.

“You don’t have to say sorry.” he coos with a pat on her shoulder. “No,” a simple word of denial divided his attention as he was about to add another sentence. “That’s not it.” her vulnerable eyes cast down to the ground, her long blonde hair falling to the side of her face and covering her side profile. Guards block the entry of any reporter that tries to approach the door, the clamors and shouts of people blocking her senses. Heels, loud stomps everything all at once, an overwhelming sense of defeat as though she had hit an unbreakable mountain. 

“I want— no, I'll quit ssireum.” Those few words left her coach’s mouth agape, he comprehended that he could not change her mind, sure— she was exhausted from ring matches however desire, and desire to talk once more overwhelmed his heart until it was overflowing like four volcanos. 

“I can’t stop you champ, but—” he softly sighs. “Don't go creating a ruckus in the streets after your loss, don’t fight recklessly like how I did or you’ll lose what you love the most.” Miru nodded slowly, her facial expression softening as she craned her head to look at her coach’s eyes. She took a deep breath before responding in a murmuring voice. “I get it, and..” her coach raised an eyebrow as she continued to speak in a mellow tone. “Don't bother looking for me anymore.”

As her footsteps fade into the darkness, silent yet bright as a candlelight. Her attention wasn't solely on her mind, from years built into her skills—some challenges were faced, though Nietzsche once said; The Obstacle is the Way, Ego is the Enemy. She had to solve her problems and herself to defeat her biggest enemy—herself. Of course, it had prices to pay but that's off the charts, let's focus on— “What in the—?” A giant card appeared before her with gold platings on the edge. It was humongous—yes indeed, she calculated every possibility of what would've happened in the women's shower room.

She calculated she was put on a bounty on the dark web, like an assassin moving after her life although she never expected to see a purple giant fucking card in front of her as soon as she crossed the threshold—she hasn't even closed the door yet. It had two options, though she decided to read the card's content first.

[ Challenger Card ]

‘Become a Helping Hand!’

Whoops, I'm unexpectedly strong in this new life—Do you find comfort in my presence? I'll always choose to stand by you, no matter the challenge, I'll favor your life in any given situation.

—> You will be reincarnated to another world with the same ability, strength, and intelligence you had in your past life. You will be stuck with the player until the quests are over.

For the Helping Hand’s convenience, they can always open up a status window to check the Player’s location, health and mind if needed. 

Warning! You are not able to go back to your original world once you enter the new world!

Ah, so what the hell is going on right now? “What the hell is this?” she shouted another curse upon seeing the two options she had: Yes, or Yes. “You should have just transferred me there then!” she exclaimed, closing the door behind her before attempting to punch the card away from her—my fist is fucking weeping! With only one swipe of her balled fist, the air served as an obstacle however that only made the will in her fist stronger—the air was forcefully propelled and thrusted away.

“Fuck dat—!” Out of pure rage, she had accidentally pressed the Yes button instead of driving the purple card away from her. Importantly, her shadow started gleaming brightly—creating a distraction that made her eyes close in instinct, “What the hell even is this?!” She shouted, her hands flying to her face as an attempt to cover the light reflecting unto her. She braces herself for the worst, will she travel to a fantasy world? With orcs and whales flying in the sky? Luckily, it wasn't what she thought and nothing had hit her yet.

“Who—?” A teenager’s voice called out to her, his voice was shaking slightly that Miru picked up on, fuck did I scare a kid?! However the curiosity hanging in between the line of bewilderedness said otherwise. Slowly, Miru opened her eyes to look at the person in front of her—it was just in fact a short teenage boy with ordinary black hair styled in a bowl cut and blue eyes, he had a small build and no noteworthy features other than his skin being lighter than most Koreans. 

Observing the boy's heightened sense of alertness evident in his stance, she took the initiative to speak. Sighing, she mumbled a small “Don't panic” to him before returning to her usual upbringing, confident bravado. “Listen, kiddo,” she said with an American accent, “Are ya okay? Yer cute but why didja even pick to summon me, I just recently quit fucking Ssireum.” The boy, or shall I say Suhyeon—couldn't form a single coherent word in front of the woman. Upfront he did seem curious, however the questions in his mind dissipated as he continued to stare at the woman.

(That wordings sounds like she's fucking a person named Ssireum and I hate it.)

Am I talking to a monster or a human? Is the question inside of Suhyeon’s mind, sure , she looked— no, she is pretty, Her grey eyes are somewhat mischievous though still cheerful—she had a grin on her face that reached the eyes, is it permanent or what? She had a slim-brawny build that was covered underneath her dobok, the lines of muscularity in her loose sleeves were undeniably imposing. From Suhyeon's perspective, she seemed like she was standing at an impressive six feet four inches tall. 

She ran a slim hand through her bangs and her disheveled blonde hair that reached down her mid-back—and the way the air surrounding her was confident and unyielding unlike his— “You okay?” She dropped the formalities— or slangs and went straight to questioning him. “Ah— yeah I'm alright—” an awkward chuckle escapes Suhyeon's lips, his hands lacked the grace as he fidgets nervously while avoiding eye contact, however this action made Suhyeon buried deeper in a pickle. 

“I'm not good with comforting people,” Warmth, was what Suhyeon felt on top of his head after a few moments. While a tense silence hung in the air and Miru's hand almost wrapped around his whole head in one go—the unyielding ambience of Miru's facade was overpowering and somewhat made Suhyeon's body at ease as he brings up the courage and raise his head to look back at the woman. “So take it easy kid.” Suhyeon swore Miru's upbringing eyes were shattered by a second.

Soft grey eyes cast over his alerted blue eyes, however it was short lived until the door to his bedroom swung open. A thin woman with accentuated curves standing underneath the door frame, Miru reacted quickly and stood where she couldn't be seen, under his bed. “Dahyeon—! knock before you enter!” He exclaimed, his breathing slightly ragged although Dahyeon doesn't seem to notice this. Holy shit, I almost got caught with a kid—fuck do I sound like a pedophile? 

“Ugh, shut it,” Dahyeon retorted as she entered his room. “I just left my charger here.” As Dahyeon’s slippers approached Suhyeon's bed, he closed his eyes and mindlessly shouted, “Wait—!” his arm extended out and gripped Dahyeon's shoulder, causing Dahyeon to stop in her tracks and ask, irritated. “The fuck’s wrong with you?” her words were laced in annoyance, a frown in between her glabella deepened. 

“Nothing—! It's just that—” his eyes warily glance over his bed trailing over to his desk, he hurriedly searched for his phone charger before shoving it into Dahyeon's arms. “Take this and go.” Miru — under the bed — could tell that Suhyeon was trying to act naturally in front of his sister, whom she guessed Dahyeon was. After Dahyeon left, Miru patiently let five seconds past before crawling out of Suhyeon's bed, she yawned softly before speaking. “Kid, what's your name and was that your sister?” 

Suhyeon's head swerved back to look at Miru, he was still — by a small bit — a little wary of Miru's presence; however, he didn't try to lie in front of her. “Suhyeon, Suhyeon Kim and that's my sister Dahyeon.” He responded, closing the door shut before his thumb pressed the lock in order to ensure his privacy. Miru nodded in approval after a few moments, Suhyeon grew curious what Miru's name was so he decided to ask while Miru was busy looking to his desk. “How about you? What's your name?”

Miru turned her head to look back at Suhyeon's interested gaze, she responded with her casual manner. “I'm Miru Lee, with the last name Lee like Bruce Lee,” she smiled, closing her eyes in the process. “I don't have a middle name cause Koreans don't have one.” She added, she paid no attention to how she wasn't wearing any slippers and was just wearing a loose Judo dobok as her outfit. She sat down on the ground, her back hitting the wall before Suhyeon spoke. “Well, I suppose it's best to learn about each other right?”

Miru took a good look at him, the way his lips stretched into sheepish grin. She let out a small chuckle, amusement was evident in her tone her, encouraging Suhyeon to press his lips into a thin line—thinking he must've spoken weirdly. “Agreed,” she nodded. “I'm an athlete— well, was a national athlete but fuck that job.” She remarked, her words hung heavy with despondency in the air. Her teeth were gritted however her eyes attempted to appear positive, he desires to ask more questions but he comprehends it might be a shitty topic to open.

“Y'know,” she said. “Ya can ask more questions, I won't mind.” Usually, sensitive topics were avoided however she spoke casually of her situation without any problem. Suhyeon took this opportunity to ask, “Can you..” he sucked in a sharp breath. “How old are you?” Miru's eyebrow raised, finding the question hilarious however he doesn't talk it out. “20, however I can be a high school student.” Not act?

“Not act?” He questioned. “Nah, but if you need my help just call me, I'll always know your location.” She giggled as low as a mumble. “Open status window.” A blue tab opened right in front of her like a pop-up ad for illegal gambling sites, it featured Suhyeon's face and his stats, his heartbeat and his current location like a Google map. “I don't think you could see it but I could see your status at any time.” she said, standing up from the ground and dusting her sleeves. 

“I can actually.” he responded, Miru closed the distance between them in a second, her upper body leaning forward to match Suhyeon's eye level. “That makes everything easy for me, so I think you do somethin’ like quests here, m’ right?” She questioned and Suhyeon responded almost immediately, however he was still in the state of utter shock from her speed, she was able to move in a second—even in a millisecond. “Yeah, uhm— yeah .” His tone lowered on the last word. “And— we're in Gangbuk right?” 

Her head rested on top of his head as her warm arms wrapped around his waist, albeit she still needed to bend her knees to match his height or risk lifting him up as she hugged him. “Yeah—..” Suhyeon's mouth managed to speak while his body remained glued to the floor, his lower stomach tingling  against her embrace, the warmth of Miru's embrace counterbalanced by the chilly air blowing in from the window. “Gangbuk sucks, i'll tell you.” Miru yawned softly, emitting a soft sigh afterwards, she leaned away after giving the boy a hug. 

What the hell's wrong with me? She questioned why her body decided to hug the boy while she was well aware they had just met, she didn't just hug the boy, Suhyeon deliberately. It was her body that made the choice alone without her permission, sure she is a carefree woman but to hug someone right after meeting? Fuck—she finds that embarrasing, luckily the boy didn't emit a single word of protest or make an attempt to move away until she stopped. “Y'know what? I'll just become a transfer student in your school,” she proposed. “Shit doesn't matter, you look like a loser.”

Blunt.

“Well—thanks?” Even as the person he had called a loser called him a loser, his brain was unable to process the words to respond. He rubbed the back of his head with his palm without realizing it as his lips stretched into an awkward grin. “Well, I know I shouldn't say that,” she remarked. “'Pologies, I'm not used to babysitting, especially males.”

Chapter Text

Hello! Author-ssi here, I wanted to say that I'm going to abandon this fic out of unlucky reasons;

1. My parents almost seperated, I had to put a hiatus because of that.
2. The AO3 curse is consuming me and I think this fic is the reason of it.
3. I'm tired.

Whenever I wake up, of course I think of this fanfiction, but looking back. My body hurts whenever I wake up, it hurts to the point I want to sleep in more. But I understand that it'll only hurt more if I sleep in.

Again, I'm sorry but my decision is final. I am abandoning this fic. But you may visit me on Wattpad, I might put this in Wattpad instead. My username is; "LilithStarhorn" and that is an old account I'm actively using. You can check out my other works on Wattpad as well!