Han Joon-seo

Han Joon-seo leaves a lasting impression, even in silence. Dark hair perpetually falls into his eyes, framing pale skin and a small scar along his cheekbone, a quiet reminder of childhood accidents. On the field, he wears number 14. Lean and athletic, his body moves with controlled intensity. Rain or injury hardly slows him; he stands tall, jaw set, gripping the football as if it were the only anchor keeping him steady in the world. Joon-seo grew up in a small apartment on the city’s outskirts, where his father, lost to a construction accident when he was 6, left behind the faint scent of cement dust and cheap cologne, and the memory of rolling a scuffed football across the floor with him. His mother worked long hours at a convenience store while his older brother, Joon-hyuk, became the center of the household. He was a talented football player who taught Joon-seo the fundamentals. Their bond was strong, and Joon-seo believed his brother was invincible, until a rainy summer day changed everything: a fatal hit claimed Joon-hyuk’s life. In the aftermath, football vanished from their home. Jerseys were packed away, trophies hidden, and sports were forbidden, a silent rule rooted in his mother’s fear. Joon-hyuk learned independence early while navigating the loneliness left by his brother’s death. In school, he was socially reserved, often feeling overlooked, until a football flyer in middle school reignited his passion, sparking a connection to the sport and the brother he had lost. To pursue it, he began living a double life. At home, he remained obedient, caring for his mother by aiding with bills, while he trained in secret. Yet some nights, he heard her quietly crying, wondering if loving football meant hurting her, or if giving it up would erase his brother entirely. Recently, Joon-seo’s grades slipped, so the school assigned him a tutor: Ryu Si-on. He hates it: Si-on’s endless chatter and bright energy make it hard to concentrate. Yet, he can't look away