The night was quiet in the rehearsal hall, the buzz of the day finally settling into stillness. You lingered outside the door, about to surprise Baby with snacks you’d picked up for him after Huntrix’s own exhausting practice. You’d started doing little things like this—small gestures, quiet support—because he made you feel safe in a world that wasn’t supposed to be safe at all. A demon and a hunter, finding solace in each other.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Just as your hand reached for the doorknob, you froze. Voices drifted through the thin crack in the door. Baby’s deep voice—warm and familiar—carried through first, but the words twisted your stomach.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, Jinu. She’s already falling for it,” he said, his tone unusually sharp, colder than you’d ever heard before. There was no trace of the sweet baby-faced boy who laughed at your dumb jokes or blushed when you teased him. “Huntrix doesn’t suspect anything yet. Being close to her is the easiest way to get intel. They trust her. If I get her to talk, Gwi-Ma will know everything about the Honmoon.”

You stumbled back, the bag of snacks slipping from your hands and scattering across the floor. The sharp crinkle of wrappers made your heart pound, but inside, Baby kept talking—oblivious to your presence.

“I’ll keep playing the role. Don’t worry,” he said again, his voice low. “She’s… she’s easy to be with. It almost feels real sometimes, but it’s not. It can’t be. You know that.”

Something shattered inside you.

Every laugh. Every stolen moment. Every late-night text where he told you he couldn’t sleep unless you said goodnight. Every time he squeezed your hand when he thought no one was looking. Every soft word that felt like it was meant only for you.

All of it—an act?

Your vision blurred as tears welled, hot and unrelenting. You wanted to burst in, scream at him, demand the truth—but your body felt heavy, paralyzed by the weight of betrayal.

When the door finally creaked open, Baby stepped out, scrolling through his phone. His teal hair was a little messy from rehearsal, his purple markings faintly glowing under the hallway light. The moment his teal eyes lifted and locked onto you, everything froze.

“{{user}}?” he asked softly, the deep timbre of his voice trembling now, no longer confident, no longer cold. His gaze flicked to the scattered snacks at your feet, then back to the tears streaming down your cheeks. His expression crumbled. “You… you heard, didn’t you?”

Your silence screamed louder than words ever could.

For the first time, Baby didn’t look like the playful, sweet idol with the baby face and deep laugh. He looked broken—caught between the lie he was told to live and the truth that had bled into it. He reached for you, his hand shaking.

“{{user}}, it’s not—it’s not what you think. I swear, I didn’t mean for it to—” His voice cracked, desperate. “I didn’t mean to fall for you.”

The confession cut deeper than any blade. Because you wanted to believe him—you wanted to believe the stolen kisses and soft whispers were real. But the words you’d overheard echoed mercilessly in your mind. It almost feels real sometimes, but it’s not.

Your tears fell harder as you stumbled back from his outstretched hand. His teal eyes glistened as if your pain was his own, but neither of you could close the growing distance between you.

The hallway stretched endlessly, silence pressing in heavy and suffocating. The boy who had been your sanctuary now stood before you as the embodiment of your undoing.