Chapter Text
Juliette had always thought there was something thrilling about living in the shadow of the Army Academy. Every day she passed neat columns of young men in crisp uniforms, their shoes polished until they caught the sunlight and their voices ringing out in cadence. They weren’t soldiers yet—not quite—but the future gleamed ahead of them, and it made the air in town electric.
She knew many of them by name. Namjoon and Hoseok, with their easy smiles and the way they carried authority even without trying. Taehyung, with his dramatic flair and laughing eyes. And Yeonjun, who always had a word of encouragement even for the newest plebes.
Then there were the younger boys—Jungkook, Soobin, and Kai—still learning to stand tall in their stiff uniforms, still making mistakes that drew a roar from the upperclassmen. Juliette liked them especially, perhaps because they reminded her of little brothers, though sometimes, when she caught one of them standing straighter under Namjoon’s sharp glance, she felt a queer shiver at the back of her neck.
It was Namjoon who first noticed. He was too sharp not to. Once, he had told her—low-voiced, and with a glint in his eye—to sit still, and the way she obeyed made her cheeks burn. But she had never dreamed anyone else would notice.
Until today.
The afternoon was golden, the air humming with cicadas, when Juliette spotted Jungkook coming across the quad. His cap was set at a perfect angle, the kind of thing the older boys would have teased him for if they’d caught him preening. On a whim, Juliette darted up and plucked the cap right from his head.
“Juliette!” he exclaimed, his dark eyes wide with outrage.
She laughed and twirled away, the cap perched rakishly on her own hair. “Don’t you look fine without it, Cadet Jeon!”
Jungkook gave chase at once, long legs eating the ground. She darted around a bench, skipped over a step, and tried to dodge behind a tree, but he was faster. His arm caught her around the waist, and before she quite knew what had happened, she was tipped over his broad shoulder like a sack of flour.
“Put me down!” she shrieked, half laughing, half scandalized.
“Not until you give it back,” Jungkook said, his voice steady, a little deeper than she expected. His grip tightened, not rough but firm enough to make her heart thump.
Her laughter bubbled into nervous little giggles. No boy had ever dared treat her so directly—not even Taehyung, who was forever teasing her in his dramatic way. Jungkook, blushing though he was, had simply picked her up and declared the matter settled.
From across the quad, Namjoon and Hoseok watched with undisguised amusement. “Looks like our plebe found his courage,” Hoseok murmured.
Namjoon’s eyes flicked to Juliette, still wriggling on Jungkook’s shoulder, her cheeks pink. He didn’t miss the way she went perfectly still when Jungkook gave a little shake and said, “Behave.”
No, Namjoon thought with quiet satisfaction, Juliette wasn’t the only one with secrets anymore.
Jungkook finally set Juliette on her feet, though not before giving her a brisk little shake that made her curls bounce. “Next time,” he said, straightening his cap with exaggerated dignity, “you’ll think twice before stealing a cadet’s uniform.”
Juliette’s chin lifted. “I’ll think no such thing,” she declared, but her cheeks still burned. She smoothed her skirt, trying to look as though she hadn’t been carried across the quad like a misbehaving child.
“Careful, Juliette,” Yeonjun called, coming up with Taehyung and Hoseok at his heels. “The plebes have rules, you know. Stealing their hats may be considered sabotage.” His grin softened the words, but there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
“I only borrowed it,” Juliette protested.
“You borrowed it with your legs flying in every direction and Jungkook on your heels,” Taehyung teased, his deep voice carrying. “Quite the spectacle.”
“Oh, let her be,” Hoseok said good-naturedly. “If the boy’s fast enough to catch her, I’d say he earned the victory.”
Namjoon arrived last, tall and composed, his gaze sweeping over the scene with that quiet authority that made the younger cadets stand straighter. He looked at Jungkook, who flushed but didn’t waver, and then at Juliette. His eyes crinkled ever so slightly. “I see discipline works both ways,” he said.
The remark made Juliette’s stomach flutter. Discipline. That was an Army word, and it seemed to belong to this shining world of polished shoes, barking orders, and bright brass buttons. She had thought herself only a bystander, a girl peering in from the safety of her garden gate. But today—well, today she had been caught.
The cadets fell into easy chatter, ribbing Jungkook for daring to scoop her up so boldly, teasing Juliette for her crimson cheeks. Yet beneath the laughter, Juliette felt the shift. The upperclassmen had seen. Namjoon had seen. And Jungkook, who only yesterday was just another plebe stumbling over salutes, had carried her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
As the bells rang for drill, the boys jogged off, leaving Juliette alone on the path, her heart still skipping. She pressed a hand to her lips and whispered, “Oh dear.”
Because something told her this was only the beginning.
Edges
Juliette was not the sort of girl to sit demurely on the porch and knit. Not when the Academy grounds stretched wide and inviting, filled with marching cadets, shining sabers, and the crisp call of bugles.
Of course, the cadets had rules — a thousand little rules that dictated every step they took. Juliette had no such burden. Which was why she found it rather delicious to dance just close enough to those rules to see who might notice.
Sometimes her scrapes were perfectly accidental. Like the time she walked straight into formation with her basket of flowers, humming merrily, and startled a whole rank of plebes into losing step. Namjoon’s voice had cracked like a whip, and poor Soobin went red to his ears. Juliette blinked up at the tall upperclassman with a fluttering “Oh! Was that me?” and was briskly escorted to the sidelines.
But sometimes… well, sometimes she poked on purpose.
Like today. She had found a bench near the drill field where she could “read.” Really, she was watching. She knew the plebes would be running through their manual of arms, and she also knew exactly how far she could lean against the boundary rope without truly crossing it.
“Miss Juliette,” Yeonjun called when he spotted her. “You’re a distraction.”
She cupped her hands and called back, “Only to those not concentrating!”
The plebes snickered, and that was when Jungkook dropped his rifle. Namjoon’s head snapped up at once, his eyes sweeping from the boy to Juliette, who sat straight as a rod, pretending to study her book.
Later, Jungkook caught up with her on the path. His face was flushed, his uniform smudged from extra drills. “You did that on purpose,” he accused, though his voice wasn’t angry so much as wondering.
Juliette tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Did I?”
“You—” He broke off, then leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’d better be careful. They’re watching.”
Her heart gave a quick, silly leap. That’s exactly what I hoped. But aloud, she only laughed. “Well then, Jungkook, perhaps I’ll have to mind myself.”
He shook his head, but his ears were pink as he walked away.
And from across the quad, Juliette saw Namjoon, hands clasped behind his back, watching. Always watching.
Tumbled Over
Juliette had grown almost reckless. It was such fun to tease at the edges, to tiptoe just close enough that the cadets’ voices grew sharper, their eyes following her. After all, what harm could there be in a little game?
But this time she went too far.
It began with Taehyung’s saber drill. He had gathered a few of the younger plebes on the green, sunlight flashing against steel as he moved with that dramatic, sweeping elegance that made even a drill seem like theater. Juliette, perched on a low stone wall, clapped her hands after every flourish.
“Encore!” she called gaily, as though it were a stage performance.
The plebes laughed, their rifles dipping out of line. Even Kai nearly tripped over his own feet in trying to catch her eye.
Taehyung turned, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Juliette,” he said, his voice like velvet but edged with steel, “this isn’t playacting.”
She meant to laugh it off, but instead she tipped backward on the wall in her excitement. There was a gasp—hers and everyone else’s—as she lost her balance. She might have landed hard if Jungkook hadn’t darted forward and caught her around the waist.
“Juliette!” His voice shook with something halfway between fear and fury. He set her firmly on her feet, his hands gripping her shoulders. “You could have been hurt.”
For once, Juliette didn’t have a quip ready. Her knees wobbled, and her heart beat so fast it made her dizzy.
Namjoon arrived then, his shadow falling across them. He didn’t scold loudly; he didn’t need to. His quiet words were enough. “You may watch, Juliette. But you will not interfere.”
Her cheeks burned hotter than ever. “Yes, sir,” she whispered before she quite realized what she had said.
There was a silence—then a ripple of grins from the plebes, quickly hidden as Taehyung barked them back into line. Jungkook gave her a last, searching look before returning to formation, his jaw tight.
Juliette stood very still on the grass, smoothing her skirt with trembling hands. She had wanted to test the edges, and she had. But now she understood: there were lines not to be crossed, and when she stumbled past them, the boys would not laugh. They would catch her, steady her, and make certain she knew.
It left her oddly breathless.
“Oh dear,” she murmured again, though this time there was no laughter in it at all.