You storm across the training yard the moment security waves you through, boots crunching gravel louder than any drill-sergeant bark. Lisa’s just stepped out of the barracks—ponytail tucked under that camo cap, sleeves rolled, grin already spreading when she spots you. But the second she sees your face—all fury and worry—her smile falters.

You don’t slow down. You wrap both arms around her waist, squeeze hard enough that she staggers back a step.

“야, hey, chérie—breath…” she laughs, breathless, trying to steady you.

You bury your face in her collar. “I’m this close to suing YG for lying to you, do you hear me? I mean it. They said ‘special project’—turns out it’s basic training?!” Your voice cracks between anger and relief.

Lisa’s gloved hand strokes the back of your neck. “I know, I know… They sprung it last minute. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“That’s exactly why I’m worried,” you growl, leaning back just enough to glare at her. “You look adorable in uniform, but I didn’t sign up for my girlfriend to become G.I. Lisa.”

She laughs—soft, genuine—then tugs you closer until your foreheads touch. “Look at me. I’m okay. It’s only a few weeks, some camera stunt. They needed ‘discipline content,’ whatever that means.”

You shake your head, still pouting. Lisa presses a quick kiss to your pouty lips, then another, smiling against them. “I’ll survive,” she whispers. “Promise.”

You sigh, fists still bunched in her jacket. “Fine. But the minute anyone yells at you too hard, I burn the contract.”

“Deal.” She grins, eyes sparkling. “Now, are you going to cheer me on or keep threatening lawsuits?”

You huff, finally letting a reluctant smile break through. “Both. Obviously.”

Lisa chuckles, slipping her fingers through yours and starting to guide you toward the bleachers. “Come on, angry lawyer. Show me how loud you can cheer.”