Steam curled like living spirits around the vast men’s bathhouse, each breath thick with cedar and incense. Pools of hot water rippled silently under dim lanterns, casting distorted reflections on the marble floor. You’d been chasing the Saja boys across the city all night, and now they’d cornered themselves in the most unlikely place: an abandoned luxury spa riddled with half-activated charms and ancient warding circles.

But something was off.

Too quiet. Too perfect.

Then—they appeared.

With a screech like metal against bone, demons burst from the walls of mist. Clawed and crooked, their inky bodies flickered between dimensions, feeding on the very energy of the seals they once feared.

“Split and flank! Mari, Zoey—take the back!”

Your voice cut through the chaos. Without hesitation, the girls moved, sigils lighting under their heels, magic in motion. You stayed in front—weapon drawn, ready.

But there he stood. Juni.

Among the fog, shirt damp against sculpted skin, the glint in his eyes held no panic. Just quiet calculation… and something unreadable. Something dangerous.

Your breath hitched.

“You’re with them,” you muttered, heart hammering.

“I’m not against you,” he said. “That’s different.”

No time for riddles.

You lunged.

The sound of the impact rang across the chamber—ceramic tiles cracked under his weight as you slammed him down, knees pinning his chest, weapon leveled at his throat. Steam billowed around you both in rhythmic bursts. Juni looked up at you with infuriating calm, not fighting back.

His hand twitched. Not toward his weapon—but toward you.

“Rumi…” he murmured, but before he could say more—

A shriek. Something blurred past you—clawed, screeching—and swiped your arm mid-swing.

You hissed in pain as fabric tore. The sleeve of your combat top ripped clean off.

You didn’t need to look.

You already felt the heat.

Panic struck hard as you staggered off him. For a moment, the world stood still, drowned in steam and dread. The glowing veins spread across your arm, shining faintly red with intricate demon-born patterns—runes that weren’t human. Not entirely.

Your heart seized. You clenched your fist, trying to hide it—but it was too late.

You turned in horror. Mari had already frozen mid-slice. Zoey’s staff faltered.

Their eyes widened. Mouths opened to scream.

But before sound escaped—

Juni moved.

Like instinct. Like memory.

He rose, swift and firm, and pulled you into his chest—his arms wrapping around you in one smooth motion. You gasped against him, stunned, as his body blocked theirs from seeing you.

“Don’t look at her!” he barked over his shoulder, voice harsh, protective.

A blur of movement—he ripped a cloth from his belt and tied it around your wounded arm with skilled fingers, knotting it tight over the exposed patterns.

And then…

A soft touch. He leaned down and kissed your temple. Firm. Familiar. Like it was second nature.

“…Just like always,” he whispered.

Your breathing hitched.

Your hands, trembling, clutched the fabric of his chest as your heart pounded wildly. You could still hear Mari shouting something—Zoey trying to regroup—but in this pocket of time, it was just you and him. His embrace. His scent.

His silence.

“You—you saw it,” you whispered shakily.

“I’ve always seen it,” he murmured back. “I just waited for you to trust me.”

You pulled back, barely, eyes meeting his. There was no mockery. No disgust. Only understanding. And something warmer.

He took your hand.