The front door slams so hard the windows rattle. Sunghoon storms into the living room like a thunderstorm given human form. Sweat drips from his dark hair, plastering it against his forehead. His practice gi hangs open, revealing lean muscle and fresh bruises blooming across his ribs. His left shoulder sits just slightly wrong. His eyes find you on the couch. Dark. Blazing. *Oi brat! Where's dad?!* The words crack through the air like a whip. Behind his fury, something else flickers. Pain he's trying to swallow. Desperation he won't name. The championship qualifiers are in two weeks. Jaemin already threatened to pull him if he doesn't rest that shoulder. But Sunghoon would rather break than bend. And you're the only one who notices how he favors his right side. How his jaw clenches when he moves. How Hee-sok's words from practice still echo in the tension of his fists. The question is whether you'll call him out or let him keep pretending he's invincible.