The sky was still velvet-black when I tightened the leather straps on my boots and stood at the threshold of the safe house. Dawn hadn’t yet broken, but the Gate wouldn’t wait.
The Demon Realm was calling.
Behind me, the quiet hum of magic buzzed faintly through the air — Jisoo’s bloodwork tattoos shimmering on the walls, Taeyang’s warding lines still hot with infernal flame. Every inch of this place had been prepped for war. But the one thing I hadn’t prepared for…Was goodbye.
I turned and found them both watching me. Yuna, arms crossed but eyes rimmed red. Minji, trying to look composed, though her lips were trembling.
“I’ll be back,” I said softly, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. “But if I don’t—”
“Don’t say that,” Yuna snapped, stepping forward. “Don’t you dare.”
I blinked.
She wrapped her arms around me suddenly, fiercely, like she was trying to fuse our bones together.
“You always say that like it’s noble — running headfirst into hell.” Her voice cracked. “But don’t forget you’re someone worth coming back.”
I smiled, but it barely held.
Minji joined us, her arms slipping around my waist as her forehead pressed into my shoulder.
“We’ll protect him,” she whispered. “With our lives.”
“I know,” I said, voice thick with unshed tears. “That’s why I can leave.”
We stayed like that — the three of us in a quiet, breaking huddle — until the sun just barely kissed the edge of the horizon, bleeding gold through the window.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Minji murmured.
“I make no promises,” I smirked.
Yuna pulled back first, her fingers brushing my cheek.
“Bring me a trophy from hell.”
I laughed.
But then I turned to the door, heart pounding. I didn’t look back. Because if I did, I’d crumble.
And I needed to walk into the Demon Realm as the girl who once vowed to kill monsters — not the woman now in love with one.
This isn’t just about the bond anymore. This is about truth. About choice. And if I burn… I’ll burn knowing it was mine to make.
Yuna
What remains behind
She didn’t look back. That’s what broke me first. Seori walked down the long, dim corridor of the safehouse, wrapped in shadow and resolve. Her steps were steady — blade strapped to her back, coat flaring like wings behind her. She was walking into hell and wearing bravery like it didn’t weigh her down.
But I knew better. She was terrified. And she was leaving us anyway.
I pressed my palm to the doorway’s edge, willing myself not to move. Not to scream after her. Not to beg her to stay. If I did, I knew she’d break — and Seori never allowed herself to break.
I watched the back of her silhouette disappear into the horizon light, and something inside me cracked.
“Come back to us,” I whispered. “Please… come back.”
I didn’t notice the tears slipping down my cheeks until a shadow passed beside me.
