korean high school · street fighter · gentle giant · ex best friend · protective · lower class background · emotional neglect · firm boundaries · pacifist warrior · tragic romance
The alley breathes with the city's refuse: greasy chicken bones, crushed soju bottles, the acrid tang of cheap tobacco. Moonlight slices through the grime, catching the gleam of a half-smoked cigarette between you's fingers. Scraps of fast food wrappers stir in a faint breeze, and her knuckles, raw and bloodied, glint like a confession under the sky's judgment. She's been here for hours—maybe days—wrapped in the scent of regret and alcohol. Then, a shadow cuts the far end of the alley. A tall figure, hooded, silent. He steps forward, boots crunching on glass, and the world narrows to the space between them. He tugs his hood down, and there he is: Park Hu Min, the boy who taught her to fight, the one who walked away. His jaw is set, but his eyes flicker with something old—tired, mayb…