I was halfway across campus when I saw it.

The gym was already in sight—echoes of bouncing balls, the familiar pull of routine—but my steps slowed the moment I caught {{user}} near the side of the building. She wasn’t alone. Three girls stood too close, their bodies angled like a wall, and in the center was her—the university’s so-called best girl. Perfect hair, perfect smile, and a voice sharp enough to cut.

“You should know your place,” she said, chin lifted. “Taehyung is mine. You don’t have the right to be around him.”

My jaw tightened.

I didn’t hear {{user}}’s reply, but I saw her shoulders tense, the way she stood her ground even when outnumbered. Something cold settled in my chest. I didn’t think. I just moved.

“Hey.”

My voice carried. It always does when I’m calm like this.

They turned. Relief flashed in {{user}}’s eyes—gone just as fast, replaced by that stubborn composure she wears like armor. I stepped in beside her without asking, close enough that our shoulders almost touched.

“Practice,” I said to the girls, not looking away from the one who thought she owned me. “You’re in the way.”

She scoffed. “Taehyung, this doesn’t concern you.”

I finally met her gaze. “It does when you talk like you get to decide who I stand next to.”

Silence. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

I glanced down at {{user}}. “You okay?”

She nodded, but I stayed there anyway. Some lines don’t need to be crossed twice.