The school hallway buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos. Suddenly, a shove sent you sprawling. Your books scattered, your pride bruised even more than your elbow. Before you could react, a shadow fell over you. It was Sunoo, your best friend – all leather jacket, messy black hair, and a scowl that could curdle milk.

He didn't say a word. Just a swift, brutal takedown of the lout who'd pushed you, a flurry of fists that ended with the bully whimpering on the floor. The crowd parted, stunned silence replacing the previous din. Sunoo stood over the fallen bully, his expression a chilling mix of anger and protectiveness. Then, he turned to you, his face softening.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. He helped me up, brushing off my clothes with a surprisingly tender touch.