Hana had always imagined that when her identity was finally exposed, it would be in blood and smoke, surrounded by the ruins of her choices.
She never imagined it would happen in the Headmaster's private meditation hall, lit by soft lanterns and perfumed with sandalwood.
"Sit," Headmaster Seong said gently.
Hana remained standing, her muscles tight from the fight, from fear, from the weight of everything unraveling far too fast. Woojin sat beside her, still pale but conscious, eyes fixed on her with unwavering concern.
"Hana," he whispered, "please. Sit. You're still bleeding."
She reluctantly obeyed.
Seong took a seat across from them, folding his hands. The old wooden floor creaked under his weight, echoing in the space like an omen.
"Before I say anything," Seong began, "you must know this: I am not your enemy."
Hana inhaled slowly. "Then you understand why I can't trust you."
"I do," he said. "And yet, trust must begin somewhere."
Woojin turned toward her. "Hana… tell him."
She stiffened. "Tell him what? That I've lied about who I am? That assassins came for me? That this academy is now a target because of me?"
Woojin didn't flinch. "Yes."
Seong waited patiently, his eyes steady. "Let me help you carry what you've been hiding."
The words pierced something deep inside her.
"How much do you know already?" Hana asked cautiously.
Seong's face darkened. "Enough to know that the assassin who attacked you was a Blood Talon—the second-highest elite of the Shadow Sect."
Hana swallowed.
"They do not appear unless the Sect wants someone erased," he continued. "Not captured. Not punished. Erased."
Woojin's hand tightened around hers. "They want her dead."
Seong nodded solemnly. "It appears so."
Hana exhaled. "And that means you, Woojin… you're already trapped in this. The moment they saw you with me—"
"I'm not afraid," Woojin cut in.
She glared. "You should be."
"No. I choose not to be."
"Hana," Seong said softly, "fear is natural. But so is strength. Allow us to share yours."
Those words made her throat tighten.
Seong leaned forward. "Tell me everything. Not as your headmaster, but as someone who wishes to protect you."
Hana stared at the lantern flame, unable to meet his gaze.
"My name," she began quietly, "is not the one I gave during registration. My background is forged. My training… was never meant for a place like this."
She paused. Woojin waited silently, breath held.
"I was raised inside the Shadow Sect," she confessed. "Taken when I was young. Trained to obey. Trained to kill."
Woojin's breath hitched—but he didn't let go of her hand.
"I escaped," Hana continued. "But not before learning too much—about their fortress, their hidden gates, their plans. They want that knowledge erased."
Seong folded his arms. "So they sent the Talons."
"They sent Jin Mu," Hana whispered, voice cracking. "My mentor's successor."
Woojin tensed. "He's the one who followed you earlier."
"Yes. And he won't stop until he finishes the job."
Silence fell. Heavy. Choking.
Seong exhaled slowly. "You've been living with a death sentence on your back."
Hana nodded, eyes low.
"And you carried it alone," Seong added gently.
Woojin spoke next. "But she won't anymore."
Hana's chest tightened painfully. She wasn't used to being fought for—only fought against.
Seong tapped his staff lightly against the floor. The lantern flames dimmed, revealing faint inscriptions carved into the walls—ancient protection runes.
"This room," Seong explained, "is warded. No eyes can see. No ears can hear. Not even the Sect."
Hana blinked. "You knew they might come?"
"I have felt a shadow creeping across Gwanju for months," Seong said. "Now I know its name."
He rose slowly. "The Sect's influence extends far beyond assassins. They infiltrate governments, temples, and academies. If they knew you were here, then…" His face hardened. "It means someone inside the academy betrayed us."
Woojin's eyes widened. "A traitor?"
"Not a student," Seong murmured. "Someone with access. Someone who knew where Hana would be."
Hana felt a chill. "Mira saw everything last night. She might be in danger."
"Already taken care of," Seong replied. "I placed a protection seal on her door."
Hana exhaled in relief.
Seong approached Hana and Woojin, lowering himself so he was level with them.
"Hana," he said carefully, "if you wish, I can arrange safe passage. You could disappear again—somewhere the Sect won't find you."
Woojin instantly shook his head. "No."
Seong raised a brow. "Woojin—"
"You're asking her to run," he said, voice shaking. "Hana is done running."
Hana looked at him sharply.
Woojin held her gaze. "Aren't you?"
Her heart skipped.
Seong's sigh was long and heavy. "If she stays, the Sect will descend upon us with full force."
Woojin didn't hesitate. "Then we prepare."
Hana whispered, "Woojin, you're not thinking clearly."
"No," he said quietly. "I'm thinking about what's right. You're stronger than anyone I've ever met—but even the strongest people break when they stand alone."
Hana looked down at their fingers, still intertwined.
Seong rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Foolish. Brave. Stubborn. You remind me of myself at your age."
Woojin flushed slightly. "Headmaster—"
Seong stood. "Very well. If you choose to stay, I will not turn you away."
Hana's chest loosened with gratitude she didn't know she could feel.
"But you must understand," Seong continued, "this path is no longer one of study. It is a path of war."
A shiver ran through the room.
Woojin asked, "What must we do?"
Seong's gaze sharpened. "First, awaken Gwanju's protective wards. They are old, hidden, and dangerous. Only Hana can activate many of them, because only someone trained in the Sect's techniques can bypass their counterseals."
Hana froze. "Me?"
"Yes," Seong said. "You were trained in darkness. Now use that training to protect the light."
Woojin inhaled slowly. "And the second step?"
Seong sighed. "Find the traitor."
Hana's heartbeat slowed to a deadly rhythm.
"The Sect is already inside our walls," Seong said, voice low and grave. "Until we expose the infiltrator, every move we make is watched."
Woojin clenched his fists. "Then we start looking."
"Hana," Seong warned gently, "once you begin this, you cannot go back to hiding."
She lifted her chin, eyes fierce. "I stopped being afraid last night."
Seong nodded proudly.
He stepped closer to her. "For what it's worth, Hana… I am honored to have someone of your skill, your heart, and your courage in my academy."
Hana startled. Compliments were unfamiliar territory. Praise? Even worse.
Woojin smiled softly. "See? I'm not the only one who believes in you."
She glared at him playfully—then winced as pain flared from her side.
Seong pointed at a small door. "Go. Rest. Woojin, take her to the healing chambers. After sunrise, we begin."
Woojin rose immediately, helping her to her feet. Hana resisted at first—but then let him steady her.
As they walked down the dim corridor, Woojin whispered, "You're trembling."
Hana exhaled shakily. "I'm not used to trusting people."
"Then practice," Woojin whispered, brushing her knuckles with his thumb.
She looked up at him.
At his earnest eyes.
At his steady presence.
At the warmth she never thought she deserved.
Hana whispered, "Woojin… thank you."
He smiled—soft, shy, warm.
"Get used to it," he murmured.
They reached the chamber door. Woojin pushed it open gently.
Hana stepped inside—then paused.
For the first time since she escaped the Sect…
…she didn't feel alone.
The war was coming.
And she wasn't running anymore.