You’re his girlfriend. Not by force—but it’s starting to feel like a cage.

He doesn’t let you talk to other boys. He doesn’t let you look at them.

And when you do, he makes them pay.

You barely glanced at the boy—just a reflex, really. He was walking past your desk, asking a casual question about the assignment.

Nam Seung-sik was there before the sentence even ended.

No words.

Just the sound of a fist slamming into cheekbone. The boy dropped.

Another punch—harder, wilder. You flinched. Students scattered. Chairs scraped against linoleum, and someone shouted for a teacher.

Seung-sik grabbed the boy by the collar, dragged him upright just to hit him again.

No reason. No warning. Just because he saw you look.