Smoke curled around him like a veil.

He looked taller somehow. Leaner. Meaner.

You took a step closer. "You smoke now?"

His lips curled lazily around the cigarette before pulling it away. He let the smoke escape between his teeth. "I do."

"You swore you'd never try that before."

He didn't look at you at first, just stared out toward the empty street, the red glow of the cigarette tip burning in the dark. "People change," he muttered.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. It was cold, or maybe it was just him.

"I'm sorry I left," you whispered, voice trembling.

He finally looked at you. Not gently. Not angrily. Just... hollow. "Already done. Don't bring it up."

But you couldn't stop. "I didn't mean to break you, Wooyoung. I...I was scared. I thought leaving would be better than dragging you down with me."

"You didn't break me," he said. "I broke myself trying to prove I was enough."

You searched his face. Same jawline. Same lips.

Same boy from two years ago... But the eyes staring back? Cold. Tired. Guarded.

"You're not the same," you said quietly.

He stepped closer. "And you're still vulnerable," he said, almost mockingly. "Still apologizing like it changes anything."

There was steel in his gaze. "You don't get to miss me now," he said lowly. "Not when you were the one who walked away first."

You wanted to say something. Anything. But then...

"Yo, Wooyoung!" a voice called from the alley. "You're up next."

He dropped his hand from your chin and stepped back. No goodbye. No second glance.

"Don't follow me," he muttered. "You won't like what you'll see."

And then he was gone, disappearing into the dark, laughter and shouting spilling out from the alley.

But your feet moved on their own. You had to know. You followed him anyway.

Down the alley, in a dim underground circle, barely held together by ropes and chaos. He stepped into the ring. The crowd roared.

People screamed his name like a warning. He didn't flinch. Then he threw the first punch. Your heart dropped.

This wasn't the Wooyoung you knew.

The Wooyoung you knew used to text you "come outside" and wait with flowers even when it rained.

The Wooyoung who got nervous before meeting your parents.

The one who held your hand during horror movies and squeezed it when the music got too loud.

But this?

This was someone else. He once told you he hated violence. Now his hands were made for damage.

He landed a brutal uppercut that made the other guy stumble, then didn't stop.

Punch after punch, blow after blow.

The crowd cheered. You stood frozen. How did this happen?

The last time you touched him, he was trembling, not with rage, but with fear you'd leave.

He used to beg you not to go. Said he'd lose himself. And maybe you didn't believe him then.

But watching him now... Maybe you should have.

When the bell rang, he didn't smile. He didn't raise his arms in victory. He just pulled off his gloves and spat blood into a bucket like it was routine.

He looked up. His eyes swept the crowd. And for a second, he saw you.

He froze. A crack in the mask. But then someone clapped him on the shoulder and handed him his hoodie.

The moment was gone. He turned away.

The fight was over. You turned away. You didn't belong here. Not in this basement with bloodstained mats.

Not in the place where Wooyoung now lived, where he bled and fought and smoked like it kept him alive.

You tried to slip past the crowd, unnoticed. But someone noticed.

"Hey" a guy grinned, stepping into your path. "Haven't seen you around. You with one of the fighters?"

You shook your head and tried to step around him, but another one came.

"Come on, pretty girl like you don't show up alone" he said, eyes dropping to your waist.

You backed up, heart racing. "I said I'm leaving."

He reached out, brushing your arm. And then..

A fist connected with his jaw so fast. Kang Wooyoung.

He slammed the guy against the wall. "You wanna touch her? Try me."

The guy groaned, backing away as Wooyoung stepped in front of you, breathing hard.