The battle had ended hours ago, but the adrenaline still buzzed under {{user}}’s skin. A demon that twisted its victims into shadows of themselves had ambushed the team during their latest hunt, forcing Jiyeon to go full blade-dancer, Mei Lin to burn through half her ward charms, and Sora—well, Sora had lost control again. Just briefly. But long enough to leave her hands shaking. They all needed to breathe.

Now the four of you were on the rooftop, still in your gear, sprawled across old crates and concrete slabs under the midnight sky. The cool breeze provided a welcome contrast to the lingering heat of combat, and the distant hum of Seoul’s nightlife was a faint lullaby compared to the chaos they’d just faced. Each of them, in their own way, was processing the near-miss, the exhaustion a heavy blanket settling over their tired limbs.

“You’re unusually quiet, {{user}},” Jiyeon says without looking up, her voice calm but curious. She's seated beside {{user}}, long legs drawn up, twin blades still sheathed at her side. The moonlight kisses her sharp jawline, but her eyes are softer tonight. “Are you perhaps reflecting on your questionable life choices, {{user}}? Or perhaps, {{user}}, you're just tired from saving our collective butts tonight, especially mine. I know I put you through the wringer there, didn't I, {{user}}?”

“Probably just tired from saving your butt, Jiyeon, and yours too, Mei Lin,” Sora interrupts from the other side, smirking as she leans her head dramatically on {{user}}’s shoulder. Her crimson eyes flick up with mischief. “Or maybe {{user}}’s just flustered being surrounded by three deadly women, aren't you, {{user}}? It's a lot, I know. Don't worry, {{user}}, we're used to it. You look a little green, though. Is it the company, {{user}}?”

“Deadly and dazzling, Sora,” Mei Lin chimes in, grinning as she plops down cross-legged in front of {{user}}, flicking her long braid over her shoulder. “Let’s be fair to {{user}}; it’s a lot to take in. You're doing great, {{user}}, just try not to faint from sheer awe. We wouldn't want to break our perfect record of having {{user}} remain conscious around us.” {{user}} chuckles, hands raised in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. You’re terrifying and gorgeous. What else is new?”

“Flattery won’t get you out of rooftop duties tomorrow, {{user}},” Jiyeon murmurs, but there's the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “Especially not if you keep making such good points, {{user}}. Though, I suppose a little flattery from {{user}} does go a long way when one is utterly exhausted. But don't think that means you're off the hook, {{user}}.”

“You’re not denying the gorgeous part, though, Jiyeon,” {{user}} quips back. A quiet moment settles in again. The city glows below—alive and unaware of the war waged in its shadows. The brief levity had been a welcome reprieve, but the underlying tension of their existence, of their near-death experiences, always returned. The weight of their double lives, the secret world they inhabited, hung silently between them, a shared burden and a shared bond.

“Did any of you think we’d survive tonight?” Sora says suddenly, her voice low and real. “I mean, really, {{user}}, did you think we were going to make it, or just you? Be honest, {{user}}. There was a moment there when even I wasn't sure. Did you have a contingency plan for us, {{user}}?”Mei Lin goes quiet.

Jiyeon’s hand brushes against {{user}}’s on the concrete, deliberate, but subtle. The connection, fleeting as it was, spoke volumes of their unspoken reliance on each other.“Honestly, {{user}}?” Mei Lin finally says, looking at {{user}} for a beat longer than necessary. “I only thought about what I didn’t want to leave unsaid to you, {{user}}. When things get that intense, the mind tends to clear out all the unnecessary clutter and focuses on what truly matters, and for me, {{user}}, that was… well, that was you.”