Dawn had barely brushed the sky when the academy bell tolled, low and heavy, as if the iron itself sensed the tension hanging over the campus. Students stumbled from their rooms in confusion, but Hana was already awake—she hadn't slept at all.
She sat on the edge of her wooden bed, boots laced, hair tied back, blades hidden where no scholar should ever have blades. Her heartbeat was steady, but her fingers trembled faintly. Not from fear. From restraint.
Last night's attack still clung to her like a shadow.
Woojin had dragged her out of the courtyard just in time, but his words echoed louder than the clang of steel.
"Hana… you're not who you say you are."
The memory tightened in her chest. He had seen too much, guessed too much, and now the academy was awake early, summoned because of the "incident." They would question students. They would search. They would pressure Woojin.
And someone—one of the assassins hunting her—had slipped into the academy grounds.
She rose and stepped into the cold corridor. The building was unusually quiet, but the silence was full of choked whispers and hurried footsteps. When she reached the main courtyard, Woojin stood alone, arms crossed, face pale in the early light.
He looked like he hadn't slept either.
His eyes found her instantly. As she approached, his jaw tightened, but he didn't step back.
"Hana." His voice was low, controlled, but something fragile lurked beneath it. "The dean wants statements from everyone who was near the courtyard last night."
She nodded, expression unreadable.
"And you?"
"I told them what they needed to hear." His eyes flickered away. "And only that."
Hana studied him. "You lied."
"Yes." He met her gaze again. "I lied for you."
The words settled between them, heavier than the bell that rang this morning.
Hana's breath hitched—just a little. "Why?"
Woojin swallowed hard, and for the first time, she saw genuine conflict flicker in his eyes.
"Because I couldn't watch them drag you away."
Her throat tightened. She shouldn't feel this. She had no right to. But something in her chest warmed sharply, painfully.
Before she could speak, footsteps approached. Dean Suh, flanked by two instructors, strode toward them with a stern frown.
"Hana. Woojin. You were seen near the courtyard last night." He folded his arms. "I need to know if either of you noticed anything."
Hana bowed, face calm. "I heard noises, sir, but when I arrived, I saw no one."
Woojin listened silently. She saw the flicker in his eyes—the moment he chose to support her lie.
He nodded. "Same for me, Dean. I saw no intruder."
The dean exhaled slowly, tension draining but not disappearing.
"Very well. Until we determine what happened, no one leaves the academy grounds. Return to your classes."
They bowed and walked away, side by side.
But the moment they turned the corner out of sight, Woojin grabbed her wrist and pulled her into an empty hallway.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"That wasn't just an intruder, Hana. I saw the way you moved last night. You recognized the attack pattern before it even happened."
Hana's breath stilled.
"And the person you fought… you knew them."
Her pulse kicked against her ribs.
She couldn't deny it. Not convincingly. Not anymore.
"Woojin…" She swallowed. "Drop it."
"No." His grip tightened—not painfully, but in desperation. "I'm not blind. And I'm not letting you face this alone."
Her eyes widened. "You don't know what you're getting involved in."
"Then tell me."
"I can't."
"Because you don't trust me?"
She opened her mouth—but she had no answer.
Woojin's expression shifted. Hurt. Anger. Determination.
He stepped closer, too close, his voice barely above a breath.
"I lied for you, Hana. I risked everything—for you. Just tell me what you're afraid of."
Her heartbeat thundered. She forced herself to look away.
"I'm afraid," she whispered, "that if I tell you, you won't look at me the same."
Woojin's breath hitched.
"And what if I already don't?" he murmured.
Her head snapped up, but he only held her gaze for a single, aching second before stepping back.
"Come to the library after classes," he said softly. "If you don't… I'll start searching for the truth myself."
Then he walked away, leaving her shaking.
---
Classes felt like torture.
Hana sat rigidly as students whispered about last night's incident. They complained, speculated, pointed fingers—but none of them mattered.
Only one person mattered.
Woojin.
His words.
His threat.
His trust.
She hated how her chest tightened every time she replayed his voice.
"I'm not letting you face this alone."
No one had ever said that to her.
Not once in her entire life.
---
Night fell quickly, shadows stretching long across the academy. Hana slipped through the corridors and reached the library. The door was cracked open, candlelight spilling softly onto the floor.
Woojin sat at one of the far tables, waiting.
He looked up as she entered, and the relief in his eyes shattered her resolve.
"You came."
She sat across from him, unable to meet his gaze.
For a long moment, silence swallowed the room.
Finally, Woojin spoke.
"I'll ask only one question tonight. Just one."
He leaned in, voice quiet but steady.
"Hana… are you running from something?"
Her breath trembled.
But she nodded.
He exhaled shakily, eyes softening—but not with fear. With understanding.
"Then let me help you."
She clenched her hands under the table. "You don't know what you're offering."
"I don't care."
"You should."
"Why?" His voice cracked. "Why does helping you feel like a crime I'm willing to commit?"
Her heart lurched violently.
She looked up—and saw him watching her like she was both a mystery and the answer to one.
Hana stood abruptly.
"This is dangerous."
Woojin rose too.
"I know."
She backed away.
"You should stay far from me."
He took a step forward.
"I won't."
Her breath caught. "Woojin—"
He stopped inches from her, chest rising with unsteady breaths.
"I don't know what you're hiding," he murmured,
"but I know you don't want to disappear anymore."
Her eyes widened.
"And I know," he whispered,
"that you're not alone unless you choose to be."
Silence.
Long, aching silence.
Then—
A soft sound outside the window.
A shadow moving too fast.
Hana froze.
Woojin saw her reaction.
"What is it?"
She didn't answer. She grabbed his sleeve and yanked him behind the nearest bookshelf just as a figure slipped silently through the window, landing softly on the wooden floor.
A familiar stance.
A familiar mask.
An assassin of the Shadow Sect.
Woojin's breath shook beside her.
Hana's blood ran cold.
They hadn't come for the academy.
They had come for her.
The assassin moved with the same precision Hana once had, stepping deeper into the library. Searching. Hunting.
Woojin looked at her, fear and realization mixing in his eyes.
"Hana," he whispered, "they're here for—"
"I know," she breathed.
For one terrifying heartbeat, Hana made a decision that would rewrite everything.
She stepped forward, drawing her blade—
no more hiding.
And Woojin whispered, trembling,
"So you really are—"
She didn't let him finish.
But she didn't deny it.
Not anymore.
The assassin's eyes snapped toward her.
And Hana faced her past head-on.