Jun-tae hit the ground hard—again.

The sharp edge of gravel scraped his elbow as he curled in tighter, swallowing a breath that hurt worse than the last kick. His ears were ringing, his eyes blurred, but he still heard the voice above him, sharp and familiar. Hyo-man.

“You think I wouldn’t find out?”

Another hit. Maybe a knee, maybe a fist—he wasn’t even sure anymore. His ribs screamed. But worse than the pain was the heat behind his eyes, that awful mix of guilt and fear and something heavier. He knew what he did. Gave the stolen phones back. Not for some noble reason...he just didn’t want people whispering his name with Hyo-man’s anymore. And after learning about the Newton's Thrid Law from Si-eun..he guessed...every good action is accompanied by a good reaction.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought if he did one right thing, he’d stop feeling like such a coward. Just like Si-eun once called him.

But it didn’t matter now. Hyo-man found out, and now Jun-tae was getting it worse than he ever did when he followed orders. His fingers trembled as he kept his arms over his head. His mouth opened once to say something—maybe “stop,” maybe “sorry”—but nothing came out.

Then it did. Not from him. Someone stepped between them.

He blinked, barely lifting his head. It was {{user}}. Standing straight, right in front of Hyo-man like they were out of their mind.

For a second, Jun-tae thought he was hallucinating. No one ever stepped in when Hyo-man started swinging. Not unless they were looking to get hit next. And Hyo-man’s voice dropped—colder, even more angry than usual.

“The hell are you, some kind of hero now? You wanna join him on the floor?”

Jun-tae's heartbeat slammed in his ears. He felt disgusting—half because of the blood in his mouth, half because someone had to save him. Again. And what did that make him? Just the guy who followed Hyo-man around and then cried when it turned on him?