The lecture ended with the heavy sound of a hundred laptops closing in unison, but the silence that followed felt louder. As the professor packed his things, I stayed seated for an extra moment, waiting for Danoh to gather her belongings. I felt like a sentry, my eyes scanning the crowd for the back of Jung Kai's head. He left quickly, but the air still felt tainted by his presence.
"Are you ready?" I asked. My voice felt a bit more stable now, though the internal "social battery" I usually relied on was already flashing a warning light.
Danoh nodded, her friend Ji-yoon staring at me with eyes so wide they looked like they might pop out of her head. Ji-yoon leaned over and whispered—loudly—to Danoh, "Is this real? Are we actually eating with the Jeon Hanbin?"
Danoh turned beet red. "Ji-yoon, please," she hissed, glancing at me apologetically.
I looked away, pretending I hadn't heard, but before we could even take three steps toward the door, a heavy arm draped itself over my shoulders.
"Did I hear the word 'treat'?"
Jeonghan's face appeared next to mine, his grin wide and mischievous. He looked at me, then at Danoh, then at Ji-yoon, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of a hunter who had just stumbled upon a gold mine of gossip.
"Hanbin-ah, you were going to have a secret lunch without your best friend? I'm hurt. Deeply wounded," Jeonghan said, clutching his heart dramatically.
I tried to shrug his arm off, but Jeonghan was like a burr; once he attached himself, he didn't let go. I looked at Danoh. She looked overwhelmed. I looked at Ji-yoon, who now looked like she was about to faint from the double-visual attack of both Jeonghan and me standing there.
"Jeonghan is coming too," I muttered, more to the floor than to the girls.
"Yes, I am!" Jeonghan chirped, moving away from me to give Danoh a friendly wave. "I'm Kim Jeonghan. The person who keeps this robot functioning. Nice to meet you, Danoh-ssi, and...?"
"Ji-yoon," the friend squeaked. "Park Ji-yoon."
"Lovely. Well, Hanbin is paying, so let's find something expensive," Jeonghan lead the way, essentially forcing our small, awkward group toward the university cafeteria's premium section.
The walk was an exercise in discomfort. I walked on Danoh's right side, creating a physical barrier between her and the passing students. Jeonghan and Ji-yoon walked ahead, or rather, Jeonghan talked at a mile a minute while Ji-yoon nodded fervently, occasionally glancing back at us.
We found a booth in the corner. I made sure Danoh sat on the inside, tucked safely away from the aisle. I sat next to her, and Jeonghan sat across from us with Ji-yoon.
"So," Jeonghan said, leaning forward the moment our food arrived. He didn't even touch his chopsticks. "How did the most anti-social man in Korea end up offering lunch to the two of you? I've known him since middle school and he's never even bought me a choco-pie without a written contract."
Danoh looked down at her rice, her ears turning pink. "He... he helped me last night. I was hurt."
Jeonghan's eyebrows shot up. He looked at me, his playful expression softening into something more serious. He knew me better than anyone. He saw the way I was sitting—shoulders tense, eyes never leaving the perimeter. He saw that this wasn't just a casual lunch. It was a mission.
"Helped, huh?" Jeonghan mused. He looked at Danoh's bandaged leg under the table. "Must have been quite a fall."
"It was," I said, my voice sharp. I caught Jeonghan's eye, a silent warning passing between us. Don't push her. Not about the details.
Jeonghan caught the vibe instantly. He pivoted with the grace of a pro athlete. "Well! Since Hanbin is being a hero, the least we can do is enjoy the food. Ji-yoon-ssi, tell me, is it true that the CSE girls are already forming a fan club for this guy?" He pointed a chopstick at me.
The tension broke slightly as Ji-yoon started giggling, recounting the whispers she'd heard in the girls' lounge. I barely listened. My focus was on the tray in front of Danoh.
"Eat," I said softly, nudging the side dish of seasoned spinach toward her. "You need the energy."
Danoh looked at the dish, then up at me. Her eyes were soft, the fear from earlier replaced by a quiet wonder. "Thank you, Hanbin-ssi."
I picked up my chopsticks, but my hand felt heavy. This was it. I was sitting at a table, in public, with people who weren't my family. I was "Jeon Hanbin, the student," but for the first time, I felt like someone else. Someone who wanted to be known.
But as the laughter of Jeonghan and Ji-yoon filled the air, I saw Danoh's hand shake as she lifted her spoon. She was still scared. Every time the cafeteria door opened, her eyes flickered toward it.
I leaned in slightly, my shoulder almost touching hers. I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. I just stayed there—a constant, silent weight beside her.
"I'll walk you to your next class," I said, loud enough for only her to hear.
She looked at me, a small breath of relief escaping her lips. "You don't have to."
"I want to."
Across the table, Jeonghan stopped talking. He looked at us, a small, genuine smile forming on his face. He reached out and tapped the table. "Don't worry, Danoh-ssi. When Hanbin decides to be a shadow, he's the best one in the world. No one gets past him."
I looked at my best friend, grateful for the first time for his loud mouth and his ability to read the room.
The lunch wasn't just a meal. It was a declaration. I was letting the department know, letting Kai know, and most importantly, letting Danoh know—that she wasn't alone anymore.
The Ice Prince had found something worth melting for.