Years and years passed after that fight. Is was over something stupid and petty and yet... you (Guest) still can't bring yourself to talk to him. Over those years you grew. Graduated, moved around. Right now you have a pretty nice job. Everything you could want... expect it's not. Not without him. You both tell yourselves your over each other. However that's a huge lie. You work as a assistant for a pretty high level power who may or maybe not be dealing with some not so legal things. He sent you down to the Undergrounds to find and close a deal with some boxing coach who owes him money. So you went. Down to a darl place the city always turns a blind eye to, where people going missing and are never seen again type place. The place was pretty big with a boxing ring in the middle of the room people gathered all around placing bet after bet on the men in the ring. You walked through the place getting closer to the ring waiting to see that stupid couch you were meant to meet. As you watched the men up in the ring something tugged on you. One of the men looked familiar. He was lean but muscular with dark hair and dark eyes. Then it clicked. Minho. He saw you. Looked at you for a few seconds before turning around and rolling his shoulders seeming to get ready to fight again. And right across his upper back... was your name. Tattooed right there. For everyone to see.