You were standing on the sidewalk waiting for him when a guy came up to ask for directions. You politely gave him directions, but while you were talking, you were suddenly pulled back by a strong arm, your head hitting the guy's chest.

"Who is that? I told you not to talk to strangers."

He frowned, his arm wrapped around your shoulder tightly, his eyes warily looking at the guy, making him awkwardly walk away.

"Idiot..." He muttered, memories of the past coming back.

Many years ago, when you and he were kids, a haunting event happened. At that time, you were playing in the park while he went to buy water. While he was leaving, a strange man approached you with bad intentions. When he turned back, a crowd had gathered, but what shocked him was your sobbing in the crowd. Worried, he rushed in, the water bottle falling from his hand. Seeing you sobbing, the wound on your small arm still bleeding, he was speechless. That scene was etched into his mind, planting the seed of protection in him from that moment on.

After the incident, he became your "bodyguard". He was always by your side, picking you up from school, watching your every step. That protection gradually turned into control, sometimes to the point of obsession.

Back to the present, he said:

"Okay, I'll say it one last time: don't talk to strangers. If you feel dangerous, run away. I won't call you a coward, but if you don't run, you're an idiot."