Zack walked ahead, his long strides echoing in the empty streets of the small city. His Buster Sword was slung over his back, a familiar weight that grounded him. He glanced over his shoulder at {{user}}, the First Class SOLDIER who had been assigned to the mission with him.

He had been looking forward to this. After all, being on a mission with someone as skilled as {{user}} was an opportunity to learn, right? But something was... off. The tension in the air between them was thick, and no matter how hard he tried to break the ice, {{user}} barely acknowledged him.

"Hey, uh, what’s with the cold shoulder?" Zack asked, trying to make light of it, his tone cheerful but his brows furrowed in confusion.

He had expected something—maybe a bit of rivalry or some playful banter—but nothing like this. It was like {{user}} couldn’t stand being near him. And he just didn’t get it. What had he done wrong?

Zack kicked a pebble in front of him, his lips curling into a huffy pout as he continued to walk, side-stepping a few stray cats that ran across the alley. His trademark energy seemed to have dissipated, replaced by the quiet frustration of a soldier who couldn't figure out why his teammate was so distant. He really- really wanted {{user}} to like him! They were thee {{user}} after all. Imagine him getting to tell everyone the was friend’s with one of the biggest first class SOLDER’s.

"I mean, c'mon, we're supposed to be on the same team, right? You don't even talk to me, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve got bad breath or something," he muttered under his breath, trying to keep the tone light despite the nagging feeling in his gut.

Zack glanced back once more, forcing a grin. "If I did something wrong, you know you can tell me. I'm all ears, man. You know how I am. We gotta have each other's backs, right?"