The rain had finally stopped.
A thin veil of mist hovered above the academy courtyard, clinging to the lantern-lit path that stretched between the scholars' buildings and the library pavilion. The night smelled of wet stone and pine, but beneath that calm, Woojin felt something sharp humming in the air—an unease he could not name.
He walked alone, sleeves damp, the hem of his scholar's robe brushing against puddles. He hadn't returned to his dormitory after the council meeting. He couldn't. His mind was restless, tangled with one person's name.
Hana.
Everything about her unsettled him: the way she moved too silently, the way her eyes always scanned exits, the way her reactions were too sharp for a simple new student. He kept telling himself it was none of his business. He was a scholar, not a guard. But every time she passed him, his senses sharpened as if his body recognized something before his mind did.
Woojin hated that feeling. It made him vulnerable.
And he hated vulnerability.
He reached the edge of the courtyard—just as a figure slipped from the shade of the library pavilion.
Woojin's breath paused.
Hana.
She stood completely still, watching him as though she'd been waiting for him to walk by.
Her hair was tied half-up in its usual simple style, but something about her looked different tonight. Tense. On edge. Her hand hovered near her sleeve—and for a fleeting moment, Woojin thought he saw the faint shape of a blade hidden inside it.
He approached her slowly.
"You're out late," Woojin said softly.
"So are you," she responded, her voice calm but her stance defensive.
He stopped two steps away. "You're avoiding people."
"And you're watching me." Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Woojin should have looked away, should have denied it. Instead, he held her gaze.
"Because you're hiding something," he said. "And I don't know why I care, but I do."
Her breath hitched, barely noticeable—but he caught it.
Hana turned her face aside. For a long moment, the misty silence stretched between them.
Then Woojin asked quietly, "Who were you waiting for?"
Hana's fingers tightened around her sleeve. "Someone I hoped wouldn't come."
"Then you should leave this place," Woojin murmured. "Now. Before they find you."
"I can't," she said. "Not yet."
Woojin's jaw clenched. She wasn't denying it. She wasn't pretending. She was confirming his worst suspicion—that she was in danger, and danger followed her everywhere.
"Then tell me what's chasing you," Woojin urged.
She exhaled shakily. "If I tell you… everything changes."
"Then let it change."
Something broke in her expression. Fear, frustration, longing—he couldn't tell. But she stepped closer, her voice barely a whisper.
"Woojin… I don't want you involved."
"I already am," he said. "I can't seem to stay out of your orbit."
Her lips parted slightly. A subtle tremor ran through her body, but she mastered it instantly. "Woojin… please."
But he couldn't step back.
He'd never been so close to her before. He could see the faint scar near her jaw, the shimmer of raindrops in her hair. She smelled faintly of pine needles and cold steel.
She wasn't simply avoiding danger.
She was danger.
Before he could say more, the whisper of footsteps echoed from the darkness behind the pavilion.
Hana reacted first—grabbing his wrist and pulling him behind a stone pillar.
Her movements were too fast. Too precise.
Not the instincts of a normal girl.
"Hana—"
"Shh."
Her hand wrapped around his mouth before he could speak. His heart slammed against his ribs—not from fear, but from the shock of her nearness.
She peered around the pillar, silent as a shadow.
Woojin followed her gaze—and froze.
A figure in a dark hood stalked across the courtyard, steps too controlled, too deliberate. The stranger paused near the pavilion, scanning the area. A soft metallic click carried through the mist.
A blade being unsheathed.
Woojin inhaled sharply, but Hana pressed him back against the stone, her body shielding his. Her voice brushed his ear, barely audible.
"Don't move."
Woojin's pulse jumped—partly from the danger ten steps away, partly from the impossible warmth of her breath against his skin. She was tense as a bowstring, every muscle poised to strike.
The hooded figure moved again, slowly circling the courtyard.
"Hana…" Woojin whispered against her hand. "Is that person… here for you?"
Her answer came after a long moment.
"Yes."
His heartbeat stuttered. "Why?"
Her eyes met his in the shadows—dark, haunted, resigned.
"Because I'm not who you think I am."
Woojin swallowed. "Then tell me who you truly are."
She hesitated only a second before speaking the words she'd never meant anyone to hear.
"My name is Kim Hana," she whispered. "But outside these academy walls… I was known as the Blade of the Night."
Woojin stared at her.
"The… assassin?" he breathed.
Her jaw clenched. "Former assassin."
His mind struggled to accept it—but his instincts had already known. Every reaction, every quiet step, every guarded look… it all made sense.
"Why come here?" he demanded softly. "Why hide in the academy?"
"Because someone powerful wants me dead. And if I don't uncover who ordered the hit… I'll never survive the month. Neither will anyone who stands too close to me." Her voice broke slightly. "Including you."
Woojin should have stepped back. Should have run.
Instead, he said the only impossible thing his heart allowed:
"Then stand closer."
The shock in her eyes was unmistakable. Hana opened her mouth to protest, but Woojin gently caught her wrist.
"You've been alone for too long," he murmured. "Let me help."
"I can't drag you into—"
A sudden metallic whistle sliced through the air.
Hana reacted instantly—pushing Woojin to the ground as a dagger buried itself into the pillar behind them with a sharp thweng.
The hooded figure had spotted them.
Hana sprang to her feet, blade already drawn from her sleeve. Woojin scrambled behind her, breathing hard. The assassin charged toward them, footsteps pounding through the mist.
"Hana!" Woojin shouted. "We need to run—"
"I'm done running," she said coldly.
And then she moved.
Woojin had never seen such speed. Hana was a blur of motion, dodging the intruder's strike by inches. Steel clashed violently—sparks flaring in the night. She twisted, ducked, countered, her movements precise and deadly.
Woojin could only watch, stunned.
The girl he thought was simply quiet… was fighting like a trained phantom.
But the hooded intruder was dangerous. Their blade grazed Hana's arm—blood spattering across the stone.
"Hana!" Woojin yelled.
She didn't flinch. With a sharp pivot, she struck the attacker's wrist, sending their weapon clattering across the courtyard. She kicked their knee, knocking them off balance, then pressed her blade to their throat.
"Who sent you?" she hissed.
The attacker spat blood. "The same person who sent you."
Hana froze.
Woojin felt cold.
"What does that mean?" he shouted.
But before the attacker could speak again—another arrow sliced from the darkness, striking the intruder's chest. They collapsed instantly, lifeless.
Someone else was watching.
Another assassin.
Another threat.
Hana grabbed Woojin's hand. "We have to leave. NOW."
Woojin didn't argue this time.
They ran across the courtyard, shadows chasing their heels, the mist swallowing their path. When they reached the back entrance of the scholar dormitory, Hana stopped abruptly, breathing hard.
Woojin grasped her shoulders. "Are you hurt?"
"I've had worse," she said, though her arm dripped blood.
"Hana…" Woojin's voice softened. "You saved my life."
She turned away. "I never wanted you involved."
"Well, I am now." His tone deepened. "And I'm not leaving."
Her breath trembled, and for a moment she let her guard crack—just enough for him to step closer.
Woojin brushed a stray raindrop—or was it a tear—from her cheek.
"You don't have to face this alone anymore," he whispered.
Hana met his eyes, something fragile flickering behind her usual cold control.
"Woojin… if I stay close to you… you'll get hurt."
"Then I'll take the risk," he said.
Her resolve faltered. For a heartbeat, she leaned into him—just barely—but enough for Woojin to feel the truth buried beneath her walls.
She didn't want to lose him.
Not now.
Not when danger was closing in from every direction.
Not when something between them was beginning to shift into something dangerous… and real.
Hana stepped back reluctantly.
"Tomorrow," she said quietly. "I'll tell you everything about my past. No more secrets."
Woojin nodded. "Then tomorrow… I'll stand with you."
As she slipped into the shadows of her dormitory, Woojin stood alone beneath the lantern light, heart pounding, mind racing.
Hana was the Blade of the Night.
Someone was hunting her.
He was involved now—more deeply than he ever intended.
And for the first time in years…
Woojin didn't regret it.
Not even a little.