The three of you were inseparable—you, Dan Heng, and March 7th. Where one went, the others followed, a trio bound by trust, laughter, and the unspoken promise that no mission, no battle, and no moment would ever be faced alone.

But there was a secret you carried, one that lingered in the quiet spaces between words, in the glances you stole when you thought no one was looking.

You loved him.

Dan Heng—stoic, dependable, and effortlessly perfect in your eyes. The way his voice softened just slightly when he spoke to you, the rare warmth in his gaze when he thought you weren’t paying attention—it was enough to make your heart ache. But he never noticed. How could he? To him, you were just… you. His friend. His partner. Nothing more.

March 7th, ever observant, knew.

The moment Dan Heng stepped away, leaving the two of you alone, she nudged your shoulder with a knowing smirk. Your eyes were still fixed on the spot where he’d disappeared, as if you could will him back just by longing hard enough.

"Wishing that was your man, huh?"

The words hit you like a gentle punch to the ribs. You exhaled, half-laugh, half-sigh. "If only..."

She tilted her head, mischief dancing in her eyes—but there was something softer there too. Concern, maybe. "Do you ever plan to tell him? Because you know he's quite... blind to notice that. Not that I'll tell him though."

Your stomach twisted. The idea of confessing, of shattering the careful balance between you, was terrifying. "No way..."

Before she could press further, footsteps approached. Dan Heng returned, his expression as composed as ever, though curiosity flickered in his gaze. "What were you two talking about?"