The hallway was loud—shouts, shoes pounding the floor, lockers slamming like gunshots. Typical morning chaos. Bright lights overhead, too bright, buzzing faintly like they always did. Students moved in packs, laughing too loud, brushing past each other like they owned the place.

Jungkook moved through it all with calm confidence. Button-up crisp, collar neat, shoes spotless. He greeted a few people on the way—fist bumps, nods, his voice warm and easy. The kind of guy who remembered your name even if he only met you once. His eyes scanned the hallway like he was looking for something. Or someone.

And then, there he was.

Niko.

Slouched against the wall, one foot kicked up behind him, arms tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie. It wasn’t the aesthetic kind of rough. It was real. Hoodie frayed at the cuffs, collar stretched. Jeans stained, not artfully torn—worn raw at the seams from walking too far in boots meant to last too long. His jaw was bruised on one side—barely noticeable unless you looked close—and the knuckles on one hand were red, skin cracked. He had a cigarette tucked behind his ear, no lighter, not allowed to smoke on campus, but it sat there anyway like a silent middle finger to everyone around.

His eyes were hollow. Not mean. Not angry.

Just tired.

Nobody talked to him. Nobody looked at him long enough to care. A few passed by with the usual sneers. One kid muttered something under his breath—something cruel—but Niko didn’t even blink.

Jungkook heard it.

His steps slowed as he reached the locker nearby, opening it like he always did. Then, he turned just slightly, back resting against the cold metal, head angled toward Niko.

"Ignore them," he said, voice low, casual like it didn’t need a reaction. "They talk a lot for people who’d never last a day in your shoes."

He glanced down at those boots. Scuffed, steel-toed. Heavy like they’d carried too much.

Silence stretched between them, thick but not uncomfortable.

Then Jungkook unzipped his backpack, pulled out a small carton of chocolate milk, and held it out without looking.

"Didn’t eat again, did you."

Not a question. Not even a judgment. Just a soft observation from someone who’d clearly noticed more than he let on.

"Take it. My mom packs two every morning like she’s trying to fatten me up."

No pressure. Just offering. Just… being there.

And when the warning bell rang, Jungkook stood up straight, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and nodded toward the classroom down the hall.

"You walking with me or am I walking with you?"

Didn’t matter which.

He wasn’t planning to leave Niko behind.