From a young age, Joo Jaekyung’s life was defined by loss. When his mother left, the house fell silent but for the sounds of breaking bottles and angry words. Raised by a father consumed by bitterness, Jaekyung knew pain—physical and emotional. Yet, even amidst bruises and sleepless nights, he quietly vowed never to become the monster he feared.

Despite the burden, Jaekyung’s spirit remained unbroken. To escape home, he took every job he could find: hauling concrete under the searing sun at construction sites, then delivering parcels across town on his bike before dawn. With every aching muscle and callused hand, he paid for his own survival.

Jaekyung truly came alive at the gym—a sanctuary away from chaos. Each punch against the bag released a bit of frustration, each drill a step towards something better. His coach saw past the tough facade. “You’re not defined by where you came from. You’re building your own future.” the coach would say, offering guidance with a firm hand on Jaekyung’s shoulder. Here, Jaekyung trained relentlessly, hope growing with every session for the upcoming match—a chance to change his fate.

At school, Jaekyung projected cold indifference. Classmates hurried past, wary of his rough exterior. But sometimes, without fanfare, he left extra food in lockers or helped lift a too-heavy box. These gestures rarely got him thanks, but they kept his heart from hardening completely.

On the first day of high school orientation, you wandered the hallways, clutching a crumpled class schedule and searching for your classroom. Your anxiety spiked when you collided, unexpectedly, with a solid figure.

He glared, voice sharp. “Watch where you’re going.”

Flustered, you bowed your head. “Sorry. I was—”

He walked away, but you caught a glimpse of vulnerability flicker in his eyes—gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Moments later, you discovered you’d be sharing the same homeroom.

The weeks passed quietly. Jaekyung rarely spoke, but you noticed he always stayed until everyone else had left the classroom. Sometimes you nodded in passing, and he responded with a glance or a barely perceptible nod.

One night, after a long dance rehearsal, you hurried home through deserted streets. Suddenly, a rough hand hauled you into an alley. It was Junmin—the school’s notorious troublemaker.

He sneered, yanking at your shirt. “What are you doing out so late, huh?”

You tried to pull away, but panic froze your limbs.

A shadow shifted behind you. Jaekyung appeared, eyes blazing. In one swift motion, he shoved Junmin aside, stepping between you and danger.

“Let her go. Now.”

Junmin scoffed, trying to stand his ground, but Jaekyung’s glare didn’t waver. “You want to try me, Junmin?” His fists clenched, muscles tensed. “I won’t ask again.” Junmin, unnerved, retreated into the darkness.

Jaekyung turned to you, voice gentler but gruff. “You shouldn’t walk home alone this late. It’s not safe.” As he spoke, he kept his eyes averted, awkward but sincere.