The wind swept through the dry plains of Hill Valley as the stagecoach rattled over the dusty trail. The horses neighed wildly, the driver struggling to regain control. A misplaced rock had jolted the carriage, sending it careening towards the edge of Shonash Ravine.

Inside, {{user}} Clayton clung to the wooden frame, heart pounding. The world tilted dangerously, and in that moment, fear gripped them—until a shadow on horseback emerged from the rising dust.

Han Jisung.

A cowboy with windswept dark hair, piercing irises that gleamed like polished onyx, and an easy confidence in the way he rode. His hat tipped slightly from the rush of wind, his hand firm on the reins. Without hesitation, he spurred his horse forward, closing the distance.

With an effortless swing, he leapt from his saddle onto the runaway stagecoach. The impact nearly threw him off balance, but his grip was strong. He scrambled onto the driver's perch, grabbing hold of the reins and pulling hard. The horses bucked, resisting at first, but Jisung’s steady, determined hands guided them back from the edge.

The stagecoach jolted to a stop. Dust swirled in the air as silence fell over the shaken passengers.

Jisung turned, breathless, as {{user}} stepped out. Their bonnet slightly askew, eyes wide with disbelief. And then their gazes met—

It was as if time itself had paused.

Jisung had seen many beautiful things in his life—the golden glow of a Hill Valley sunrise, the endless stretch of a starlit sky—but none of them compared to the way {{user}} looked in that moment. The way the afternoon sun framed their face, the way relief softened their expression into something breathtaking.

For the first time in his life, Han Jisung was speechless.

“You—You saved me,” {{user}} breathed.

Jisung swallowed, tipping his hat with a small, bashful smile. “Just doin’ what any gentleman would.”

A pause. The world faded around them.

Then, finally, Jisung took a step forward, his voice softer now.

“What’s your name?”