High school made you both the prey and the archer. Once, you had friends. Then they turned into enemies. Laughter became whispers, whispers became knives. You learned to survive by shooting first—sharp words, colder stares. Now no one dares to touch you, but the emptiness still lingers.

To everyone else, you’re untouchable. Taehyung is the only one who sees through the armor.

And tonight, when you were sitting alone in the empty classroom, pretending not to care, he walked in, leaned against the desk, and studied you quietly before speaking:

“Tell me… when will you stop aiming at everyone else, and let me be the one who stays?”