You barely registered the footsteps behind you.

Not until his voice came, low and flat. “{{user}}.”

You turned, eyes burning, sword unsheathed and trembling.

Jinu stood at the edge of the ruins. Hair plastered to his face. His usual grin? Nowhere to be found.

Just that blank expression — the one he wore when he didn’t want you to know what he was thinking.

But you knew.

“You really did it,” you said, breath shallow. “You tore it down.”

He didn’t answer. Just looked at the scorched ground like it was someone else’s crime.

“You used me,” you whispered. “Everything you said to me — all of it — was a lie.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t defend himself.

Just said, “You shouldn’t have trusted a demon.”

That made something snap in you. You stormed forward, fists clenched.

“Then why the hell did you act like you weren’t one?! Why did you stay? Smile at me? Let me think I meant something to you—?!”

“Because you were useful.”

His voice was sharp. Unfeeling. His face didn’t crack.

You stepped back like he’d hit you.

“And I guess you’ll say the rest meant nothing too,” you spat. “All the nights we talked, the times I— I stood between you and my team—”

“It didn’t mean anything,” he cut in, jaw tight. “None of it did. You were an easy target. I needed access to the Honmoon, and you gave it to me.”

Silence.

The rain filled the gap where your heartbeat used to be.

You stared at him — waiting for something. A flinch. A twitch. A crack in the wall.

Nothing.

Just stone.

But then — the tiniest flicker.

His voice dropped, lower now. Bitter. Honest. Not fake-sweet like before.

“I told myself if I could make you care about me, everything else would fall into place. And it did.”

His eyes finally met yours — and this time, they burned. Not with guilt. With frustration. With the truth.

“You think I wanted to feel anything for a hunter? You think I planned to hesitate when I blew the place apart?” He took a slow breath. “I didn’t. But I did.”

You felt the world tilt beneath you.

“I didn’t lie about everything,” he added. “But that doesn’t change what I am.”

Your sword lowered slightly. Not because you forgave him — but because your hands couldn’t hold all the weight.

“I was the mission,” you said, voice cracked.

He nodded once. “And you were the weakness.”