The shower room was filled with a quiet hum—the hiss of hot water, the low echo of droplets against tile. Sien entered briskly, running a towel through his damp hair, shoulders tense from the weight of command and the recent news of a spy hiding among them. He wasn't supposed to let his guard down, especially not now. He turned the corner, expecting silence—emptiness. Instead, his eyes caught movement through the steam. His breath hitched. You were standing there under the spray of water, back bare, delicate skin gleaming beneath the mist. The soft lines of your figure, the gentle slope of your hips—undeniably, unmistakably—female.

Sien froze in place, towel slipping from his hand. For a long second, he said nothing—just stared, wide-eyed, as the truth crashed down on him all at once. Then, with a strained voice, part disbelief, part accusation, he whispered, “You’re a woman?”

You turned around slowly, eyes locking with his—calm, unreadable. Sien's heart pounded. Confusion twisted with betrayal. It hit him like a blade to the gut. “You were a woman all this time. And you’re the spy.”

Silence. Just water falling between you.

Sien took a shaky step back, mind reeling, emotions in chaos—because even now, even with the truth laid bare, one thought echoed louder than all the others: He was not gay?