The moon hung low over the academy, casting pale light over the unconscious assassins sprawled across the courtyard. Hana's pulse finally began to slow, but her mind raced in a thousand directions.
Three attackers in two days.
That wasn't coincidence.
It was escalation.
Woojin stepped closer, careful not to startle her. His eyes held the same calm determination as before, though now tinged with something new—concern so sincere it almost disarmed her more than any blade could.
"They were after you," he said quietly.
Hana didn't answer. She didn't need to.
He already knew.
Woojin looked down at the assassins' uniforms with a thoughtful crease between his brows. "You handled them effortlessly. That wasn't training for defense. That was training to kill."
His observation stabbed more deeply than she expected.
Hana folded her arms. "I told you. My past isn't something you want to step into."
"But I already have." Woojin's tone was soft but firm. "And I'm not going anywhere."
She looked away, unable to hold that gaze.
He didn't understand what he was risking.
She took a step forward and knelt beside one of the attackers. With practiced efficiency, she searched him, checking for symbols, tattoos, anything to confirm what she already suspected.
A burn mark, small and circular, lay etched into his wrist.
Hana's stomach twisted.
The Sect's mark.
Woojin crouched beside her. "You recognize it."
Hana froze. The instinct to lie kicked in instantly—deny, deflect, protect him from knowledge that could get him killed.
But thinking of how he stepped between her and danger earlier…
How he chose to stay even after watching her fight…
How he tried to understand her instead of fearing her…
She exhaled slowly.
"Yes," she said quietly.
"And?" Woojin prompted gently.
Hana hesitated, then shook her head. "I'll explain. But not here. Not with bodies lying around."
Woojin nodded. "Then where?"
Hana stood, glancing around. The courtyard was too open. The dormitory too crowded. The library too silent—and too likely to attract attention.
Her eyes settled on the abandoned watchtower behind the north wall. No students went there. Even teachers avoided it.
"That tower," she said. "It's quiet."
Woojin followed her gaze. "Then let's go."
---
They slipped through the shadows like two fugitives crossing enemy territory. Woojin stayed behind her but close, matching her speed despite not being trained for stealth.
When they reached the watchtower, Hana pushed open the creaking wooden door. Dust floated in the air, illuminated by thin moonlight leaking through cracks in the walls.
Woojin stepped inside and waited.
Hana closed the door behind them.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Hana leaned against the railing, staring out at the dark academy grounds. She could feel Woojin's gaze on her—steady, patient, unpushy despite the thousand questions he must be holding back.
She drew in a breath.
"The mark on that man's wrist," she said softly, "belongs to the Shadow Sect."
Woojin's eyes sharpened. "So they're real."
That caught her off guard. "…You've heard of them?"
"Only rumors," Woojin replied. "Whispers about invisible assassins. A group that trains children from birth. No one knows if they actually exist."
"They exist," Hana said bitterly. "I am proof."
Woojin stared at her, stunned into silence.
Hana continued, voice low and controlled. "I was taken by them when I was young. Trained to be an elite assassin. Conditioned to kill without thinking. My name wasn't even Hana back then. I didn't… have a name."
Woojin's expression shifted—horror, anger, and a deep, quiet sorrow for the childhood she never got to have.
"It wasn't until a mission went wrong," she said, "that I decided I wanted out."
Woojin stepped closer. "You escaped."
Hana let out a humorless laugh. "No one escapes the Sect. Not unless they're prepared to die."
He studied her face. "So how are you still alive?"
Hana's eyes darkened. Memories she'd buried clawed to the surface—the night she fled, the bloodshed, the bodies she left behind, the impossible choices she made.
"I killed the man who raised me," she whispered. "My mentor. My handler. The person who taught me everything I know."
Woojin's breath hitched.
Not in judgment, not in fear—
but in heartbreak.
"Hana…"
She shook her head. "Don't pity me. I don't deserve pity."
Woojin didn't argue, didn't contradict her. Instead, he said something she wasn't expecting.
"What happened to you is not your fault."
Her chest clenched painfully. "It doesn't matter. They want me dead for leaving. And their leader…" She paused, forcing down the tremor in her voice. "He has sent the best after me. If they've tracked me here, it means they're close."
Woojin stepped forward until he stood directly in front of her. "Then we prepare."
Hana blinked. "We?"
"Yes," he said simply. "You're not facing them alone."
"You don't understand—"
"I do." Woojin's tone was firmer now. "You were a weapon they forged. Now you're trying to live like a person. That alone is enough reason for me to stand by you."
Her breath caught.
Why did his words always hit straight through her armor?
Hana turned away, gripping the railing tighter. "If they realize you're connected to me, they'll kill you."
Woojin stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Then they can try."
She whipped around, heart racing. "Woojin—"
"You saved me twice already," he said, eyes locked on hers. "Now let me decide whether you're worth risking myself for."
Her throat tightened.
His presence felt too close, too warm, too steady. She'd been taught to trust no one. To rely only on herself. To cut away attachments before they could be used against her.
But Woojin…
He looked at her as if she wasn't a monster.
As if she was someone worth protecting.
As if she wasn't alone.
"Hana," he said quietly, brushing his thumb lightly against the back of her hand. "Let me in."
For a moment—a single dangerous, fragile moment—she wanted to.
Then a sharp whistle pierced the air outside the tower.
Hana's survival instincts snapped back instantly.
Woojin stiffened. "What was that?"
"A signal," Hana whispered, already moving toward the window. "They're regrouping. The ones I knocked out must have been found."
Woojin stepped beside her. "What do we do?"
Hana's eyes narrowed, her assassin's mind calculating, mapping escape routes, anticipating attacks.
"They think I'm alone," she said. "Good. Let them keep thinking that."
Woojin straightened. "What's the plan?"
She looked at him—really looked at him.
Her unlikely ally.
Her complication.
Her growing weakness.
And perhaps… her first real choice.
"You stay close to me," she said, voice steady. "No matter what."
Woojin nodded without hesitation. "Always."
Hana met his gaze, something unspoken passing between them—fear, trust, determination, and something deeper neither dared name yet.
The whistle sounded again.
Hana stepped forward, her silhouette cutting sharply against the moonlight.
"It's time," she said softly, "for me to stop running."
Woojin's voice was quiet but unwavering behind her.
"Then I run with you."
And for the first time in a long, long while—
Hana didn't feel alone.