"You look tired." This was his effort to appear concerned. "Portland went well. Strong performance." He studied me. "I wanted to check in. The enhanced protocols are necessary, but restrictive. If they're causing stress, we can discuss adjustments."
"They're fine."
"Are they? You seem tense." His voice softened. "I've noticed you relying heavily on Griffin for reassurance."
"He's doing his job," I said.
"Of course, but there's a difference between professional protection and personal dependence." He almost sounded kind. "I worry the lines are blurring. For both of you."
"The lines are clear."
"Are they?" He took a half-step closer. "Griffin has his own history. Complicated circumstances. And you're vulnerable right now. It's natural to seek comfort when systems feel unstable."
"This isn't about comfort."
"Then what is it about?"
I didn't answer.
He let the silence sit for three beats before continuing. "I care about you, Yoon-jae. I always have. Which is why I need you to understand something."
He used my real name. He was trying to reclaim the intimacy he'd surrendered eighteen months ago.
"People get hurt when systems destabilize. Nobody wants that to happen, but chaos creates gaps. Those leave opportunities for harm we can't predict or prevent."
A cold knot settled in my stomach.
"Enhanced security exists when there's a genuine threat. But threats don't always come from outside. They can come from internal fractures. From relationships that compromise judgment and create vulnerabilities we can't see until it's too late."
"What are you saying?"
"That the safest way to protect everyone, the group and the tour, is to adhere to structure. Clear boundaries. Appropriate distance." He nearly smiled. "And if those boundaries continue to erode, I can't guarantee what might slip through the gaps created."
Perfect deniability. He wasn't saying he'd hurt anyone. He was saying that the system would fail, and that would cause inevitable, unpredictable harm.
"Minjae has been asking questions," Soo-jin continued. His voice remained gentle. "About why security protocols are changing. Why everyone seems worried lately. He's perceptive. Sensitive to emotional undercurrents."
My blood ran cold.
"He's also young. Still learning how to navigate pressure without letting it affect his performance. He has to learn how to manage fear without destabilizing." Soo-jin's gaze remained steady. "It would be unfortunate if he became anxious or uncertain because of tensions that have nothing to do with him. If the stress started affecting his sleep or his focus during his performances."
No threats against me. He was lodging them against the people close to me.
"Leave him out of this," I hissed.
"I'm trying to, but if the current situation continues to escalate and boundaries keep eroding, I can't control every variable. Systems break under strain. And when they break, people get hurt. Not intentionally. It's because we can no longer hold everything together."
Minjae's fear. The group's cohesion. It was all acceptable collateral damage in the effort to erase me.
"I understand what you're doing."
"I'm protecting you. All of you."
"No, you're controlling me."
"Sometimes protection and control are the same thing."
"They're not."
