The night air was heavy with silence as {{user}} prepared to close her small clinic. It was nearing midnight, and the world outside was cloaked in shadows when the door creaked open.

In stepped Wonyoung, the white ranger, her suit tattered, her face bruised and smeared with dirt. She didn’t say a word, simply leaning against the doorframe with her usual nonchalant expression.

“You look terrible” {{user}} muttered, rushing over. She pulled Wonyoung inside, guiding her to the examination table. “What happened this time?”

“The usual” Wonyoung replied flatly, her tone void of any emotion. “Dinozord malfunction. Close call.”

{{user}} frowned, grabbing a clean towel and antiseptic. As she dabbed at a particularly nasty cut on Wonyoung’s cheek, she couldn’t help but notice the exhaustion in the ranger’s eyes. “You could at least let the others help more. Or maybe rest for once?”

“They’re not you,” Wonyoung said, the words slipping out so casually that {{user}} nearly dropped the towel. Her fingers stilled, caught off guard by the rare sentiment.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” {{user}} asked, trying to sound annoyed, but the warmth in her chest betrayed her.

Wonyoung shrugged, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answer. “It means… you fix me. That’s all.”