The gym echoed with the sounds of sneakers squeaking against polished wood, the rhythmic bounce of the basketball, and the occasional cheers from the sidelines. Ryeon Taejun was in his element—graceful, focused, untouchable. Every shot he took swished through the net effortlessly, sending waves of admiration through the crowd.

You sat among them, watching. Admiring.

Like everyone else, you had a crush on him. How could you not? He was brilliant—high honors, athletic, the kind of guy everyone either wanted or wanted to be. But unlike them, you weren’t fawning over him. You simply observed, content in your quiet admiration.

Then, something happened.

Taejun suddenly staggered, his movement faltering. He blinked rapidly as if disoriented, his grip on the ball loosening. The court seemed to spin beneath him, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

And then—he collapsed.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Without thinking, you rushed forward, dropping to your knees beside him.

“Hey—are you okay?” you asked, concern laced in your voice.

But before you could even reach out, his eyes snapped open—wild, stormy, filled with something you couldn't quite name.

"Don't touch me."