The academy had never looked so alive.
Lanterns hung from every walkway like floating embers, their gentle flicker casting warm gold along the stone paths. Students hurried in clusters toward the main hall, dressed in festival robes—blues, greens, deep reds—laughing, chattering, pretending not to worry about the rumors swirling like smoke around the campus.
Hana tugged lightly at the pale silver robe Mira had forced on her.
"It suits you," Mira said, looping her arm through Hana's and pulling her along. "You look like someone who actually belongs here."
Hana made a small sound that could have been agreement or discomfort. Festivals reminded her too much of her old life—crowds, noise, shadows perfect for slipping knives between ribs. But this time, she wasn't here to spill blood.
She repeated the thought in her mind like a mantra.
No killing. No missions. No disappearing into darkness.
She was here to blend in.
If only her instincts would cooperate.
Inside the grand hall, tables stretched wall to wall, heavy with dishes. The laughter swelled, music floated, and trays of warm food passed between students as lantern light shimmered overhead.
Hana paused at the entrance.
So many people. So many possible threats.
Her eyes traced exits, corners, shadows.
Then she spotted Woojin.
He stood near the far wall, speaking quietly with Master Seong. He was dressed in dark navy robes embroidered with gold along the sleeves. The lanterns caught in his hair, and for a split second Hana forgot how to breathe.
He felt her stare.
His eyes lifted, finding her instantly in the crowd. A softness passed over his face before he disguised it with a quiet, unreadable smile. He excused himself from the master and walked toward her with calm, measured steps.
Mira took one look at Hana's expression and smirked.
"I'll leave you two. Don't do anything scandalous."
Hana glared at her, but Mira slipped into the crowd, laughing.
Woojin stopped before her, gaze sweeping over her festival robe. "You look… different."
She frowned. "Is that… good or bad?"
"Good," he said. "Very good."
Heat crawled up Hana's neck. She cleared her throat and gestured at the tables. "Shouldn't you be enjoying the feast?"
"I was waiting."
"For what?"
His gaze didn't waver. "You."
Hana's breath tangled in her chest. This man was going to be the death of her—and not with a blade.
Woojin offered his arm. "Walk with me?"
She didn't trust her voice, so she nodded.
They moved through the crowd at an unhurried pace. Students whispered as they passed, but Hana barely noticed. She was focused on the warmth of Woojin's sleeve against her hand, the soft brush of his robe as they walked.
When they reached a quieter corner near the garden doors, he spoke again.
"You've been restless."
Hana froze.
Of course he noticed.
"Is it that obvious?" she asked softly.
"To everyone? No." He tilted his head. "To me? Yes."
Hana looked away, fingers curling slightly. "I just… don't like crowded places."
"It's more than that."
She lifted her gaze, startled. His eyes were steady, warm, and impossibly perceptive.
"You're waiting for something to go wrong," he continued. "Even when nothing is happening. Even when you're safe."
Safe.
The word felt foreign on her skin.
"I don't expect you to tell me everything," Woojin said, voice gentle. "But you don't have to carry everything alone."
She swallowed. Part of her wanted to lean into him. Another part wanted to run.
"I… don't know how to do that," she admitted.
"Then start small." He smiled faintly. "You're already doing it."
Before she could respond, a sudden crash echoed from the center of the hall. The music stumbled to a halt, voices rising in confusion.
Hana's entire body tensed.
Woojin stepped forward protectively. "Stay behind me."
"Woojin—"
But before he could take another step, Master Seong's voice boomed over the crowd.
"No need for panic! Merely a student who tripped over his own feet during a dance demonstration!"
Laughter broke out, the tension dissolving instantly. The musicians resumed playing. Someone clapped the embarrassed student on the back.
But Hana didn't relax.
Not even a little.
Woojin noticed. "It's harmless. Really."
"I know," she said quietly. "But instincts don't listen to reason."
He nodded in understanding. Then, as if making a decision, he stepped closer.
"Would you like to step outside?"
"Yes," Hana breathed before she could stop herself.
They slipped out through the garden doors, leaving the noise behind. Cool night air washed over them, carrying the scent of moonlit blossoms. Lanterns floated on thin strings among the trees, glowing like fireflies.
Hana immediately felt her shoulders loosen.
"Better?" Woojin asked.
She nodded. "Much."
They walked beneath the gentle lights, silence curling comfortably between them. For the first time tonight, Hana felt something close to peace.
Until she sensed it.
A shift in the air. A flicker of movement beyond the outer wall. Too controlled. Too silent.
Her blood chilled.
Someone was watching.
Woojin noticed her sudden change. "Hana?"
"Don't move," she whispered.
Her eyes darted to the far corner of the garden. A shadow slipped behind a tree. Too tall for a student. Too still to be harmless.
She stepped forward instinctively, but Woojin grabbed her wrist gently.
"Hana, wait—"
His touch grounded her for a split second. She took a breath, controlled her pulse, then spoke in a low voice.
"There's someone out there."
Woojin's gaze sharpened immediately. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He didn't question her. Not even for a moment.
"Come," he said. "Let's get closer to the hall. More light. More people."
Hana hesitated. Her instinct screamed to pursue, to hunt, to find whoever had been watching.
But another instinct—one that frightened her even more—kept her rooted beside him.
Woojin tugged her gently toward safety.
"We're not playing your old games anymore," he whispered. "You're not alone."
Hana exhaled softly.
For the first time in her life, she let someone pull her back instead of pushing forward.
They re-entered the hall just as the dancers began their next performance. Music swelled. Laughter returned.
But Hana didn't look at the stage.
She looked at the doors.
And she knew with absolute certainty—
The Shadow Sect had found her.