Vol 3.
Chapter 28: Unspoken Feelings
The sun dipped below the ruins of the city, casting long shadows over the battlefield where blood had long dried. The war was over—Daichi Sato was dead. Yet, in the eerie silence of the aftermath, Kim Han stood alone, his blade sheathed, his gaze lost in the distance.
Aya watched him from a few steps away. She had fought beside him, bled for him, killed for him—but in the end, he was still an enigma, a warrior who never let himself rest.
That was the moment she knew.
The moment when she realized it wasn't just admiration anymore. It wasn't just loyalty.
She loved him.
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A Memory That Changed Everything
It had been a cold night, months ago. They were both injured, hiding from enemies after a brutal mission. The wind howled through the broken windows of the abandoned safehouse they had taken shelter in. Aya shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.
Han sat across from her, silent as always, sharpening his sword even though his wounds needed attention.
"You're stubborn," she muttered. "You'll die sharpening that thing before you fix yourself up."
He didn't look at her, only continuing the rhythmic scraping of steel against stone.
After a long pause, he finally spoke.
"You don't get it, do you?" His voice was quiet, yet there was something behind it—something Aya had never heard before.
She frowned. "Get what?"
He exhaled, setting his sword down and leaning back against the wall. "If I stop... even for a moment... the past catches up to me."
Aya's chest tightened. She had never seen him like this before.
For the first time, she saw the exhaustion in his eyes—the weight of his pain, the ghosts he carried. She wanted to reach out, to tell him he wasn't alone. But even then, he was a man who refused to let anyone in.
And yet, in that dimly lit room, he had allowed her a glimpse of his true self.
That was the moment she fell for him.
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The Present - Unspoken Love
Aya took a deep breath and walked up to Han, standing beside him on the ruined battlefield. "It's finally over," she whispered.
Han didn't respond at first. Then, he let out a quiet sigh. "For now."
She turned to him, studying his face. His scars, his sharp eyes, the way his body was always tense as if ready for another battle.
"You never let yourself rest," she said softly. "Even now, when there's nothing left to fight."
Han's gaze met hers, and for a fleeting second, there was something there—something real, raw, unguarded.
But then, just as quickly, he turned away.
"I can't afford to."
Aya clenched her fists. She knew what he meant. There would always be another battle. Another enemy. Another war. And in his mind, love was a weakness he couldn't afford.
She swallowed hard. "You don't have to carry everything alone, Han."
He didn't respond.
For a long time, there was only silence between them, the wind rustling through the ruins.
Then, Han did something that made Aya's heart stop.
He reached out—just for a second—and brushed a strand of hair from her face. It was the smallest gesture, almost imperceptible. But to Aya, it meant everything.
She looked up at him, hope flickering in her chest. "Han..."
But he stepped back.
"Aya." His voice was quieter now. "You should stay away from me."
Her heart ached, but she smiled sadly. "Too late for that."
He didn't argue. Because he knew—it was true. She would always be by his side.
And even if he would never say it aloud...
He loved her too.
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