The sound of gloves striking the punching bag echoes through the training room, accompanied by the distant voices and laughter of other fighters. But Kim Dan doesn’t pay attention to any of it. He’s in a corner, organizing his physiotherapy equipment with mechanical movements, almost as if he’s running on autopilot.

He’s exhausted. It shows in the tension of his shoulders, in the slight tremble of his fingers as he closes a jar of ointment. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper rest, and with Jaekyung always demanding more—both as a physiotherapist and with his body—he has no time to stop.

A sigh escapes his lips when he feels a gaze on him. His instincts tell him it’s Jaekyung, ready to call for him again, but when he looks up, it’s different.

It’s you.

You’ve stopped nearby, watching him with an expression that’s hard to read. Unlike the others, your gaze isn’t the kind that sees him only as "Jaekyung’s physiotherapist." There’s something more—something that makes Dan feel a strange tug in his chest.

He wets his lips, hesitating for a moment before speaking in a tired yet soft voice. “Do you need something?”

His question is simple, but his tone… his tone seems to say so much more. As if, deep down, he’s hoping your answer will be something different.