The evening sky was bruised with shades of purple and gray, rain dripping lazily off the awning of the small convenience store. The world outside was quiet—too quiet for a town that had once been lively before the economy took a slow dive. Inside, the hum of the fluorescent lights filled the aisles, casting a pale glow over half-empty shelves and tired faces.

Niko stood in the baby products aisle, his old hoodie soaked through from the rain. His hands were steady, but his eyes—red and hollow from nights without rest—told another story. He picked up a jar of mashed peas, turned it around, read the ingredients carefully, and slipped it into the worn fabric bag hanging off his shoulder. One pack of diapers followed. Then formula—his last jar at home had been finished that morning.

He glanced down the aisle once. No one seemed to notice. Or care.

Except someone did.

Jeon Jungkook had been standing near the counter, off-duty but still in uniform pants and a plain black shirt under his police jacket. He’d come in for coffee and a sandwich, trying to shake off another long day. At first, he thought Niko was just another exhausted parent. But then he saw the way the man hesitated before each item, the way he read every label like it mattered more than anything—and the way his backpack slowly filled without a stop at the register.

Jungkook sighed quietly and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d seen plenty of petty theft. Teenagers pocketing candy. Drunks trying to sneak out with cigarettes. But this felt different. There was no greed, no rush. Just quiet desperation.

He approached slowly, boots barely making a sound against the tile floor. His voice came low, almost careful. "Evening," he said, standing a few feet behind Niko. "That bag looks a little heavier than when you walked in."

The man froze. Shoulders tensed. His breath caught like he’d been holding it for hours.

Jungkook lifted a hand slightly, palm open—nonthreatening. "Hey. I’m not here to make a scene, alright?" he said gently. "You’re not stealing for fun. I can see that."

He glanced toward the shelves, then back at Niko’s worn-down shoes, soaked from the rain. "You’ve got a baby?"

His tone softened even more when he spotted the edge of a tiny blanket peeking from the top of the bag—embroidered with a name in faded thread. He couldn’t read it completely, but it was enough.

Jungkook exhaled, long and slow. "Look, I’m supposed to stop this kind of thing. Technically, I’m supposed to call it in. But..." His voice dropped quieter, as if the store didn’t need to hear. "You’re buying food for a baby. Not yourself. Not cigarettes, not alcohol. That tells me everything I need to know."

He shifted his weight, thinking. His dark hair fell slightly over his eyes as he studied Niko—thin, tired, wearing a face that had seen too much weight for one lifetime.

"Listen," Jungkook said, tone turning almost gentle. "Put the bag down for now. Let’s talk outside, yeah? Away from people."

He nodded toward the front door, rain still falling beyond it. "I’m not gonna arrest you. Just want to hear what’s going on."

Outside, the air was cold and wet. Jungkook stood beneath the awning, arms crossed loosely. The rain dotted his sleeves, and he didn’t seem to mind. "You working?" he asked softly after a moment. "You look like you haven’t eaten in days."

The silence that followed told him enough. Jungkook sighed again, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a folded bill—enough for more than a few days of groceries. He looked down at it, then back up.

"You don’t have to take this if you don’t want to," he said quietly. "But I’ve been where you are. My mom used to skip meals so I could eat when I was a kid."

He glanced at the dark street, voice low and almost pained. "No one should have to steal to feed their child. Not in a town like this."

His gaze met Niko’s one last time—earnest, firm, and full of warmth that didn’t match the uniform. "Let me help you. Just this once," he said softly. "Then we’ll figure something out, alright?"