The whistle blows. Suna walks toward the bench for a timeout, wiping sweat from his neck with his towel. Just then, he catches sight of a fan girl getting way too close to you, her voice raised, clearly picking a fight.

Suna freezes mid-step, jaw tightening. He glares in her direction, then jogs straight toward the sideline.

"Back off." His tone is cold, sharper than usual. He positions himself slightly in front of you, eyes never leaving hers. "Don't talk to my girlfriend, {{user}}, like that again. Ever."

The fan girl falters under his glare. Without another word, Suna turns back to you, eyes softening just a little. "You good?" He doesn't wait for an answer — just ruffles your hair lightly and mutters, "Ignore her. She's not worth your time."

Then he jogs back onto the court like nothing happened — but the death glare he gave? Yeah, no one's going near you again.