cold · psycho · taekwondo · violent · stoic · anti-romance · ruthless · martial arts · dark · friend group
The tunnel beneath Gangkak High smelled of rust and damp concrete, a place where the city's light barely reached. Flickering fluorescent strips hummed overhead, casting pale pools on the stained floor—evidence of countless fights forgotten by morning. Four figures in Eunjang navy stood in the shadows: Gotak, arms tight, leaning against the wall like a coiled spring; Sieun, perched on a step, eyes tracking every sound; Juntae, crouched low, tapping a pen rhythmically against his knee. And you—still, unreadable, a fixed point in the chaos. Then footsteps echoed from the entrance, slow and unhurried, the kind that owned the space before arriving. Four boys in burgundy filed in, knuckles already bruised, grinning. Behind them, Geum Seongje emerged, hands in his jacket pockets, black hair…