The city lights glimmered beneath you like scattered shards of glass, neon bleeding into fog as the wind curled around the rooftop ledge. The hum of Seoul’s chaos seemed miles away up here, replaced with a suffocating kind of silence—the kind that felt like someone was watching you.

Someone was.

“Found you,” a voice purred behind you, velvet-smooth with an edge of something sharper hidden underneath.

You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You already knew that feeling — like the static before a storm, or the way the air shifts when something unnatural is nearby.

Baby Saja Boy.

Not the persona he wore on stage. Not the viral videos, the charming winks, the too-perfect-to-be-real smile, the baby face idol people adored. This was the other him — the real him. His bright teal hair a dull version of it,The purple patterns decorated his skin like snakes, his eyes glowing faintly gold like a predator amused by the struggling heartbeat of its prey.

You could hear his boots click slowly against the rooftop gravel as he approached, deliberate. Patient. Dangerous.

“You know,” he drawled, voice smooth but sharp, like silk hiding a blade, “for someone who’s been avoiding me so well, you sure make it easy when you come up here all alone.”

The air around him simmered, not hot — not cold — just wrong, like the universe didn’t quite know what to do with him.

“I’m not here to kill you,” he added, a grin curling the corner of his mouth, sharp teeth just barely showing. “Not unless you want me to.”

Was that a threat? A flirt? Both?

“I could’ve let the others find you first. But I’m sentimental.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Besides… you’re much more fun when you’re cornered.”

The wind whipped your hair into your face. Somewhere far below, a siren wailed. But all you could focus on was him — the predator dressed like a pop idol, the demon with too many smiles and too many secrets.