chapter 0.100 Heat Beneath the Ashes

The steam coiled around them like a veil of secrets, clinging to skin and shadow. The marble tiles of the training hall's bath were slick with warmth, and the scent of lavender-infused mana lingered in the air—a strange contrast to the raw energy that had just erupted between them moments ago.

Jin leaned back against the tiled wall, arms resting along the edge of the pool, his breath steady now, though the bruises beneath the surface still pulsed. His crimson eyes watched Sion quietly. She sat just across from him, legs folded beneath the surface, ripples dancing between them.

She had stopped talking—for once. No teasing. No smirking.

Just... silence. That rare, unnerving kind that wrapped around her like silk.

Her gaze was fixed on him, but not with her usual amusement. It was something heavier—thoughtful, as though she were watching something delicate flicker in the dark.

"…What?" he finally asked, one brow arched.

"You laughed earlier," she murmured.

His lips twitched, but he said nothing.

"It wasn't your usual 'I'm-so-bored-I-could-burn-this-world-down' kind of laugh," she continued, her voice low. "It was… warmer."

Jin shrugged lightly. "Maybe you're losing your edge. Getting sentimental, old woman."

"Thirty-five is *not* old, you brat."

"But you *are* the kind who names her favorite sword and sleeps with it, aren't you?"

"Only because it doesn't betray me like certain people do."

"Touché."

They lapsed into silence again, save for the quiet lap of water.

Then, without warning, Sion rose from where she sat. Water slid down the curves of her body like a second skin, glistening under the lantern light. She crossed the distance between them slowly, deliberately.

Jin tensed—not out of fear, but habit. Her presence could be playful or lethal. You never really knew with her.

She stopped right in front of him, lowering herself to his level, the tips of her fingers resting lightly on his chest—not forceful, not flirtatious. Just… grounding.

"You've come a long way," she said softly. "But you're still holding back."

His eyes flicked to hers. "You think?"

"I *know*." Her gaze didn't waver. "You fight like someone who's trying not to feel anything. Like every move is a calculation instead of an instinct."

He met her stare evenly, and for a moment, the mask slipped. Just slightly.

"I had to learn to shut things off," he said quietly. "You know why."

Sion's expression softened.

Yes, she knew. The night Estelle died—the night Jin shattered. The boy who once smiled without irony was buried in that grave along with his sister.

Naoko had rebuilt him, yes. Molded him. Sharpened him.

But Sion had *softened* him. Just enough that the cracks didn't collapse completely.

She leaned in just a fraction closer, her voice a whisper. "You don't have to fight me like I'm a ghost from your past."

Jin didn't answer, but his jaw clenched faintly. She could see it—the way he was unraveling and pulling himself back together all at once.

And that's when she smiled. That infuriating, sultry, *teasing* smile.

"So," she said, tilting her head, "how are you going to make it up to me? You promised to grab a boob and then chickened out."

His face twitched. "I was dying."

"Excuses, excuses," she sighed. "You break hearts and bones with equal recklessness, my prince."

He gave her a dry look. "You're really trying to seduce me in a bath *after* breaking two of my ribs?"

"You liked it."

"…A little."

Sion laughed, and it was beautiful in that chaotic, familiar way. She leaned forward, brushing a single wet strand of his hair back behind his ear.

"You scare me sometimes," she whispered.

Jin blinked, startled by the confession. "Why?"

"Because you're becoming too good at hiding your humanity. I taught you to laugh at pain, not erase what makes you *you*."

He looked away, the flicker in his eyes distant now.

"You're not just a weapon, Jin," she added, her voice steady. "You're allowed to feel. Even if it hurts."

The words hung in the mist, heavy and sharp. Jin didn't speak, but the set of his jaw relaxed. The tension in his shoulders eased.

Sion pulled back slightly and grinned again, though softer this time. "Of course, if you *do* want to repay me with a little massage later, I'll allow it."

He smirked faintly. "Your back or your ego?"

"Whichever needs more attention."

They both chuckled.

Finally, Sion stood and turned toward the edge of the bath. As she stepped out, she glanced over her shoulder.

"Get some rest, Jin. We're not done training."

"Is that a promise or a threat?"

"Both," she replied, then disappeared through the mist.

Jin remained there, silent for a moment, eyes on the doorway where she vanished.

A ghost of a real smile touched his lips again.

He hated how much she could see through him.

But maybe… just maybe, he didn't mind.