Minji
Blood in the rain
She was slipping.
Not just in battle — though tonight proved that too — but deeper than that. In her eyes. In the way her hand hovered just a beat too long before drawing her blade. Seori had never hesitated. Never missed a kill.
Until now.
And I didn’t know what scared me more — that she was distracted, or that I already knew why.
The bond mark.
That cursed thing that burned into her shoulder the night she faced him — Rheon. Demon prince. Enemy. And something else I couldn’t quite name but saw plain as day in her face.
We pressed deeper into the ruins after the first ambush. Yuna scouted ahead, quiet as moonlight. I took Seori’s flank, keeping my steps just behind hers, eyes scanning every shadow.
But I wasn’t watching the shadows anymore.
I was watching her.
The stiffness in her shoulders. The way her breaths trembled like they didn’t belong to her. Her fingers clenched the hilt of her blade like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. I had seen her wounded before. Bleeding. Exhausted. But I had never seen her haunted.
And I hated it.
“I’ll take rear guard,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t notice how often my gaze flicked to her back.
She didn’t respond. She was a million miles away again.
Damn it, Seori…
Then it happened — a second demon burst from the collapsed ceiling, talons aimed for Seori’s chest.
I screamed her name too late.
She spun instinctively — but not fast enough.
Claws scraped across her ribs. Blood bloomed beneath her jacket.
She fell.
“No!” My voice cracked as I lunged, driving my dagger into the demon’s throat in a single motion. It thrashed, shrieked, then collapsed in a pile of ash and shadow.
I was on my knees beside her before the dust even settled.
Her breath hitched as I peeled back the edge of her torn jacket. Red soaked through her undershirt. The gash was deep — not fatal, but painful as hell.
“You didn’t see it coming,” I whispered.
Her lashes fluttered open. “I… I tried.”
Tried?
Seori never tried. She did.
“I told you this would happen,” I snapped, voice low. “You’re not fine, Seori. You’re falling apart.”
She winced, trying to sit up. “I just—”
“You froze again. You hesitated. You’re not fighting like yourself anymore.”
She blinked at me. Her lips trembled. “Minji…”
And for the first time since we were kids, I saw something raw behind her eyes.
Fear.
Not of the demons. Not of death.
Of herself.
Of what the mark meant.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and grabbed her hand, hard.
“I don’t care if the bond’s burning you from the inside out. I’m not letting you fall. Not to him. Not to fate. You hear me?”
She nodded — barely.
And I knew it wasn’t enough. But it was all we had for now.
“Come on,” I said, helping her to her feet. “Yuna’s waiting. And if you drop again, I’m dragging you by your braid.”
That got a weak smile. But as we pressed forward, I saw her reach for her ribs — for the wound — and then pause. Her fingers trembled… and shifted up to her shoulder.
Where the mark still burned beneath her skin.
And I knew we were running out of time.