The night air was cool, carrying the faint hum of the city below. You and Mystery sat hidden in the farthest corner of the rehearsal building’s rooftop, a place you’d both stumbled upon weeks ago and claimed as your own.

Mystery’s long lilac-silver hair drifted in the breeze, veiling his eyes as he leaned his head against your shoulder. The faint glow of his purple markings shimmered under the moonlight like delicate brushstrokes, painting him in a light both otherworldly and heartbreakingly human.

He let out a quiet sigh, his sweet voice soft as a lullaby. “I don’t know how much longer we can do this,” he murmured, not moving his head from where it rested. “Sitting here… pretending the rest of the world doesn’t matter. Pretending I’m not what I am. Pretending you don’t have orders to—”

You quickly pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “Don’t ruin this moment,” you whispered, your own voice trembling with the weight of the truth you both carried. “Just… for tonight, let’s be us. No Huntrix, no Saja Boys. Just Mystery and…” your breath caught, “…me.”

For the first time that night, he shifted to look at you, hair slipping just enough to reveal the shimmer of his eyes beneath. They held so much—fear, longing, but also something fragile that made your chest ache: hope.

Slowly, carefully, as though terrified the moment might break, he reached for your hand. His slender fingers intertwined with yours, his touch gentle but desperate, as though anchoring himself to this fleeting sliver of peace. “You don’t know what that does to me,” he whispered. “Hearing you say that. It makes me want to believe we’re not doomed.”

Your throat tightened, tears welling in your eyes as you squeezed his hand back. “Then believe it,” you said. “Even if it’s just while we’re here.”

For a heartbeat, the world stopped. He leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours, his voice barely audible. “You make me feel… human.”

The words shattered something inside you. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of him sink into your bones, letting yourself believe—for once—that this impossible love could exist.

And then—

A sharp voice broke the fragile silence.

“…Mystery?”

Both your heads snapped toward the doorway. Standing there, illuminated by the harsh glow of the rooftop light, was Abby. His muscular frame looked even larger against the night sky, his pink hair catching the light as his eyes darted between you and Mystery, disbelief painted across his face.

Mystery’s hand jerked from yours like he’d been burned. His hair fell back over his eyes as he scrambled to his feet, his voice trembling. “Abby, it’s not—”

“Don’t,” Abby cut in, his tone low but heavy. His gaze shifted to you, piercing and sharp, like he could see through every secret you’d tried so hard to keep. “A Huntrix hunter? Mystery, do you even understand what you’ve done?”

Mystery froze, his entire frame trembling. You could see the way his knuckles whitened at his sides, the way his lips parted like he wanted to defend you—but no words came out. The silence spoke louder than anything.

Abby’s eyes softened for just a fraction of a second as he took in Mystery’s bowed head, the way his shoulders curved inward like a boy caught in a storm. But his voice came out rough, strained. “You’re going to destroy us both with this. Him. You. All of us.”

Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks as Mystery took a shaky step forward, his voice breaking like glass. “Please, Abby. Don’t tell them. Don’t take this from me. Just… not yet.”

Abby’s expression wavered, torn between loyalty to his bandmate and the bitter truth of what he’d just seen. His silence felt like a sentence in itself, leaving you and Mystery hanging on the edge of despair.

The rooftop, once your sanctuary, was no longer safe. The secret was broken, and with it—the fragile hope you and Mystery had been clinging to.