Seungmin still glanced at Chahyuk — just once — but it was enough.
A silent question. A need for permission he hated needing.
Chahyuk noticed immediately.
"Seungmin," he said lightly, like it wasn't a big deal, "if you don't like fried chicken, you can order anything else. My dad cooks really well."
For a second, Seungmin didn't answer.
Then, cold as ever, he said, "No. Fried chicken is fine. Let's go."
That was it. End of discussion.
Jisoo saw everything.
He saw how they hovered around Seungmin. How they adjusted themselves around him. How they were careful — too careful. Not because they cared deeply, but because Seungmin was valuable. Because he was strong. Because he mattered to the team.
Jisoo had always mattered.
And now… maybe he didn't.
The thought dug into his chest like a slow blade.
They're just keeping him close, Jisoo told himself. Because he's useful.
Still, the fear didn't leave.
What if Seungmin replaced him?
What if the position Jisoo held — the one he bled for — slipped out of his hands?
He laughed bitterly in his own head.
Isn't that what I deserve?
After everything I've done?
Especially to Seungmin?
Maybe this was karma.
Maybe I deserve worst.
The restaurant was a twenty-minute walk.
Minho and Woohyun walked ahead, laughing loudly, bumping shoulders like nothing in the world could touch them.
Behind them, Chahyuk and Han talked quietly. Han listened more than he spoke, nodding earnestly, smiling when Chahyuk joked.
And then there was the space in between.
Seungmin and Jisoo walked side by side close enough that their arms almost brushed yet it felt like miles.
Neither spoke.
They acted like the other didn't exist.
But the silence screamed.
Every step was heavy. Every breath was aware of the other's presence. Jisoo felt it burning under his skin. Seungmin felt it tightening in his chest.
They reached the restaurant.
Chahyuk's father welcomed them warmly, his voice loud and genuine. He ushered them inside, smiling like he rarely did.
They sat down.
And without thinking without planning Seungmin sat next to Han.
The moment passed unnoticed by everyone except Jisoo.
His heart tightened.
Chahyuk stood up to help in the kitchen.
Through the thin walls, they heard his father's voice — sharp, irritated.
"Always bringing friends! Do you think food is free? You never pay! Just wasting money!"
The laughter at the table died instantly.
Everyone froze.
Han shifted uncomfortably. Woohyun stared at his hands. Minho looked like he wanted to disappear.
They all felt it — the humiliation crawling up their spines.
Chahyuk came back, expression unreadable.
Minho forced a smile. "Yeah… let's go. We don't want to cause trouble."
Chahyuk's eyes snapped up.
"Sit," he said harshly. "Just sit."
Han immediately spoke. "We'll pay. It's fine."
"Yes," Woohyun added quickly. "We really can."
Chahyuk clenched his jaw but said nothing.
After a while, his father returned — this time carrying plates of fried chicken.
His voice softened.
"Eat. At your age, you need to eat a lot."
They all bowed their heads politely, thanking him.
Then he chuckled.
"So you're his school friends? I didn't know he had friends there. Before, he only brought strange street thugs."
They stiffened.
"But you kids," he continued, smiling, "you're good kids. Come anytime. I'm happy he finally found real friends. Take care of my son."
Something settled over the table — heavy, sincere.
"Yes, sir," they all said together. "We will."
The man nodded and walked away.
They were just about to eat when shouting erupted from another table.
A man yelling.
A girl crying.
She was asking to break up.
He refused to let her go.
His words were cruel. Loud. Vicious.
The restaurant went quiet — the kind of quiet where everyone watches but no one moves.
Han's fingers dug into the table.
His chest burned.
England flashed in his mind — Jiwoo standing up, fearless, furious. Jiwoo talking about women's rights. Jiwoo never staying silent. She was a feminist.
Han had grown up with that fire.
He couldn't sit still.
Seungmin noticed.
He saw the tension in Han's shoulders. The way his body leaned forward, ready to explode.
Before Han could stand
Seungmin was already on his feet.
He stepped in front of the girl without hesitation, his body forming a shield.
The boy laughed bitterly.
"So this is him? The reason you want to leave me?"
The girl stayed silent, shaking.
Seungmin's voice was calm. Deadly calm.
"You don't deserve her. Look at how you're treating her. She deserves better. Someone that can treat her better."
The boy shoved him.
Once.
Again.
"Who the hell are you?" he shouted. "You think you can stole my girl.?"
Seungmin absorbed the pushes until his limit snapped. His fist tightened.
Before he could strike
Jisoo punched the boy.
Hard.
The boy fell.
Jisoo didn't stop.
He climbed on top of him, fists crashing down, rage pouring out unchecked.
"Stop!" Seungmin shouted, grabbing Jisoo, trying to pull him back.
The boy staggered up and shoved Seungmin violently.
Seungmin slammed into a table — pain tearing through his back.
Jisoo turned.
Their eyes met.
In that single moment, Seungmin saw it all fear, regret, love.
He loves me, Seungmin realized.
The boy punched Jisoo, knocking him down, then kicked him repeatedly.
Something broke in Jisoo.
He grabbed the boy's leg, dragged him down, mounted him, and punched until his arms burned and the boy went still.
Unconscious.
Jisoo collapsed back, gasping.
Chahyuk rushed over, grabbing him, helping him into a chair.
No one else interfered.
Because when Jisoo stood up to fight, he had said one thing — firm, commanding:
"Don't get involved. He's a figther. I don't want you guys to get hurt."
They knew why.
That boy wasn't normal.
He was dangerous.
And Jisoo was the only one willing to take the damage.