Hana woke before dawn, long before the first bell of the academy tolled. The morning air prickled against her skin, cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of pine trees surrounding the scholar compound. She sat at the edge of her cot, elbows on her knees, her breath steady but heavy. Sleep had been shallow, broken by fragments of memory she wished she could bury deep enough to never claw back again.
Last night's ambush had proven one thing—
The Shadow Sect still wanted her.
And they were getting closer.
She pressed her palm lightly over the bandaged cut on her shoulder. It throbbed with a warning pulse, a reminder of how narrowly she'd escaped. Woojin's worried face flashed across her mind, the way he'd insisted on tending to her wound himself, his fingers trembling even while he tried to hide it.
If the Sect attacks again, Woojin will be caught in the middle.
The idea alone made something sharp twist inside her chest.
She stood, dressed quickly, and stepped outside. Mist clung to the ground as she walked along the narrow courtyard path. Each footstep felt like a question she didn't yet have the courage to answer.
---
She wasn't alone.
Woojin stood beneath the old plum tree, its branches heavy with morning dew. He must have been waiting—he didn't even flinch when she approached. His dark hair was tied loosely, a few strands falling across his forehead, giving him a softer look than usual.
"You didn't sleep," he said quietly.
"Neither did you."
He exhaled, looking her over, eyes lingering on the shoulder she tried to pretend wasn't hurting.
"Hana… how many enemies do you have exactly?"
She shook her head. "Too many to count."
"Then you can't face them alone anymore."
A bitter laugh escaped her. "I've been alone my whole life, Woojin. It's how I survive."
He stepped closer. "You don't have to survive like that anymore."
The softness in his voice disarmed her more quickly than any blade. Hana looked away, but he reached out, catching her wrist—not forcefully, just enough to anchor her.
"Tell me what happened yesterday."
She hesitated. The truth would drag him into danger. But the lies were already crumbling.
"An assassin came for me," she said finally. "One of the Sect. One of the best."
"And you killed them."
Her silence was confirmation.
Woojin's jaw tightened. "So this isn't going to stop."
"No," she whispered. "It won't."
There was a long, tense pause. Then Woojin said, "Then I'm staying by your side."
"Woojin—"
"Stop trying to push me away," he said, voice sharp. "Every time you bleed, I feel like I'm losing my mind. And you still expect me to walk away?"
Her lips parted in shock. Woojin never raised his voice. Not like this.
"Why?" she asked softly. "Why take that risk?"
He swallowed hard. "Because… I care for you."
The words fell between them like something fragile and dangerous.
Hana's breath hitched. For a moment, the world felt painfully still. She wanted to believe him—but believing meant exposing a part of herself she had locked away for years.
Before she could answer, footsteps echoed from across the courtyard. A slim figure hurried toward them—Joon, the ever-cheerful scholar who had somehow befriended them both.
He stopped abruptly when he saw their expressions.
"Oh—um," he said awkwardly. "Did I interrupt something?"
"No," Hana said quickly.
"Yes," Woojin said at the same time.
Joon blinked. "Ah… okay. I will pretend I heard neither."
He handed Woojin a scroll. "Senior Tutor wants all advanced students in the Hall this morning. There's a sudden change in the examination schedule."
Woojin frowned. "A change?"
"Yes. Apparently a royal inspector is visiting the academy."
Hana stiffened. Woojin noticed instantly.
"What's wrong?"
She lowered her voice. "A royal inspector means more guards… more eyes. If the Sect wants me, they'll try to blend into the crowd."
Woojin's expression darkened. "Then I won't let you out of my sight."
Hana opened her mouth to protest—but Joon cut in, waving both hands.
"Actually, Woojin, Senior Tutor said you have to guide the inspector personally."
Woojin's face fell. "What?"
"And Hana," Joon continued, "they want you to help prepare the examination hall."
Hana groaned internally. Separation. Exactly what she didn't want.
Woojin's frustration was clear, but he forced a steady breath. He stepped close enough that only she could hear him.
"Stay alert. Don't go anywhere alone. And if anything feels off—anything—find me."
She nodded.
But the uneasy tightening in her stomach didn't ease.
---
The Examination Hall
By midday, the academy was buzzing. Matrons cleaned the rows of wooden desks, scholars rushed back and forth carrying ink stones and scrolls, and the nervous hum of anticipation filled the air.
Hana arranged ink brushes carefully, pretending not to feel the burning sensation of someone watching her.
Every instinct screamed danger.
She scanned the faces in the hall—students, tutors, attendants. Nothing stood out. Nothing obvious. The Sect was good at blending in. Too good.
As she reached the back of the hall, a soft metallic click sounded behind her. Not loud. Almost hidden.
But she knew that sound.
A pressure-triggered dart mechanism.
She turned sharply—
—and shoved a student aside just as a poisoned needle shot from under the desk.
It embedded into the wooden pillar with a faint hiss.
The student stared at her in shock. "W-what was that?!"
"Leave. Now."
She didn't wait to see if he obeyed.
Hana ducked under the desk—no attacker, just the mechanism. Which meant the assassin was nearby… watching.
A whisper of movement sounded above her.
She rolled just as a blade sliced through the air where her head had been.
She sprang up, facing her attacker.
A masked figure in academy robes.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
They infiltrated the academy after all.
"Hana of the Shadow Sect," the masked assassin said. "You are ordered to return. Dead, if necessary."
Hana flexed her fingers, her gaze narrowing.
"I'm not going back."
"Then you will die here."
The assassin lunged.
---
A Fight Beneath Silence
They exchanged blows with lethal speed. Every movement was sharp, controlled. Hana struck low, aiming for the knees, while the assassin spun, blade slashing upward.
The hall was too open. Too exposed. She needed to end this fast—before more students returned.
She grabbed a desk and kicked it forward. It slammed into the assassin, buying her a moment. She launched forward, flipping over the desk and landing a hard elbow strike into the assassin's jaw.
They staggered back—but didn't fall.
"You've grown soft," the assassin hissed. "Playing scholar."
"Maybe." Hana wiped blood from her lip. "But soft doesn't mean weak."
They lunged again.
This time, Hana anticipated the feint. She twisted behind the assassin, trapped their arm, and dislocated the shoulder with a sharp, brutal crack.
The masked figure gasped.
Hana didn't hesitate—she struck the back of their neck, knocking them unconscious.
Her breath trembled as she stood over them.
That's two assassins in two days. They're closing in.
Footsteps echoed from the hallway—several of them.
No time.
She dragged the assassin's body behind the storage screen just as the doors opened and Woojin rushed in.
"Hana!"
Their eyes met.
His widened at the sight of blood on her arms.
"Hana, what—"
"Not here," she whispered. "Help me."
Woojin didn't question. He moved instantly.
Together, they pulled the screen closed and stood shoulder to shoulder, tense and silent, as more scholars entered the hall.
Woojin leaned close, whispering, "You're hurt."
"So are you," she whispered back.
He didn't deny it.
Their eyes stayed locked, the air between them fragile and intense.
"Hana," he murmured, "I meant what I said this morning."
Her heart hammered.
And for the first time… she didn't look away.