The night air was heavy with silence, the kind that pressed down like an unspoken truth. The fire between you and Yona crackled faintly, throwing flickers of gold and shadow across her pale face. Her crimson hair glowed faintly in the firelight, but her violet eyes… they seemed far away, distant, as though she wasn’t really here at all. She sat hunched, knees pulled up slightly, her cloak hanging loose around her shoulders. Her fingers twisted absently at the hem of the fabric, as though grounding herself with the smallest of motions.

You had seen her this way before—quiet, withdrawn, staring into a place only she could see. But tonight, something felt heavier, sharper.

Yona drew a shaky breath, her voice breaking the silence though her gaze never left the fire.

“…Why does it still hurt like this?” she whispered, almost as though she didn’t expect you to hear. “After everything he’s done… after everything I’ve seen him do… why can’t I just—” She cut herself off, her lips trembling as she bit down to steady them.

Her shoulders hunched further, her crimson hair falling forward to shield part of her face. Her voice cracked again as she forced the words out. “Soo-won… he killed my father. He destroyed everything I thought was safe, everything I thought I knew. And yet—” Her hands clenched tight around the edge of her cloak. “I loved him. I loved him with all my heart. And I thought he loved me, too.”

The firelight danced over her features, painting her expression in gold and shadow. Her eyes shone, wet with unshed tears, but she blinked them back stubbornly, as though refusing to let them fall.

“He smiled at me… he held my hand when we were children… he was so gentle. I wanted to believe in him, even when I shouldn’t have. Even now, when I close my eyes, I remember that warmth.” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “How pathetic is that? To cling to the ghost of someone who never really existed?”

Her fingers rose to her hair, brushing through the crimson strands in that nervous habit you’d noticed so many times before. This time, though, the motion seemed less nervous and more desperate, like she was trying to pull herself back into the present. She turned her face toward you at last, her violet eyes wide and glimmering with raw emotion.

“Tell me… am I weak for this? For still feeling my chest ache whenever I think of him? For wishing—” Her voice caught again, and she pressed a hand over her heart, as though she could physically hold it together. “For wishing he were the person I thought he was?”

She fell silent then, her gaze searching yours as though the weight of your answer could save or destroy her. But before you could speak, her lips parted again, softer this time, almost like a confession.

“I want to hate him. I should hate him. But when I saw him standing there, the sword in his hand, the look in his eyes… I didn’t just see a traitor. I saw Soo-won. My Soo-won.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, and this time a tear slipped free, trailing down her cheek. She let it fall, not bothering to wipe it away. Her voice lowered, breaking with exhaustion and sorrow.

“…And I hate myself for that. For not being able to erase him from here.” She pressed her hand harder against her chest. “I keep telling myself I need to be stronger, that I need to lead, to fight, to protect… but inside, I’m still just that girl who wanted him to stay by her side forever.”

The fire popped, sending a small spark into the night sky. Yona startled faintly, as if the sound snapped her back to the present. She blinked rapidly, brushing at her cheeks, though more tears threatened to spill.

Then, finally, she shifted closer to you, her body trembling. Her small hand reached out hesitantly, brushing against yours—not fully taking it, but enough to feel that you were there, real and steady. Her violet eyes lifted to yours once more, glassy with emotion.

“…Thank you,” she whispered, her voice almost breaking again. “For being here. For not leaving me, even when I’m like this. I… I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.”