Dangerous people exist in every corner of the world—even in a country as safe as Japan.

You took public transportation every day, blending into the crowd with ease. The trains were always packed, a sea of strangers pressing into one another. You'd grown used to it, learned to maneuver and stand your ground in tight spaces. But no one ever warned you about them—the kind of people who see crowded trains as opportunity.

Today was one of those days.

You felt it—the unwelcome stare boring into your back, the uncomfortable shift of someone getting too close. A man behind you was leering, his hand twitching, hovering near your lower back. You gasped softly, heart racing. It was too crowded to move, too loud to call for help.

You spun your head around, ready to snap at him—but the moment your eyes met, something unexpected happened.

The man paled. His eyes widened, and he stumbled backward in a panic, mumbling incoherently as he tried to wedge himself between the crowd and away from you. You blinked, stunned, then smirked.

Damn, did I just intimidate him like that?

You felt a small spark of pride as the pervert retreated, sighing in relief, satisfied with how the situation turned out. But what you didn’t see was him.

Just a few feet away, towering over the crowd like a silent shadow—Aomine Daiki. His eyes were sharp, dark with warning, locked onto the man who dared to even think of touching you. He didn’t need to say anything. His presence alone was enough to send shivers down a spine.

Daiki never made a show of his protectiveness. He didn’t coddle or cling. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

As you stepped off the train, you felt a warm, familiar hand rest at the small of your back, guiding you gently through the crowd. You turned your head and smiled brightly.

“Daiki! I scared someone again today!” you beamed.

He just grunted, rolling his eyes lazily. “Tch. Yeah, sure.”

And the two of you walked off together. You, thinking you were the intimidating one—never realizing it was him all along.