Chapter 4
Specter stood atop a rooftop, her masked gaze scanning the city below. The streets were restless tonight—an unnatural tension hung in the air, thick like a brewing storm.
She had spent the last few nights chasing down rumors. A villain with powers beyond anything the city had seen before. Someone who didn’t just commit crimes for greed, but for something bigger.
And then, she found him.
Across the street, alarms blared from inside a high-end bank. Red and blue lights reflected off the wet pavement, but Specter wasn’t looking at the escaping civilians or the panicked security guards.
Her attention was locked on him.
He stood in front of the shattered glass doors, completely at ease, as if he wasn’t in the middle of committing a crime.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding an aura of absolute control. His slicked-back hair gave him a polished yet menacing look, and his dark coat swayed slightly in the night breeze.
But what stood out most was the way he smirked when he saw her.
Like he had been waiting for this.
Specter landed silently in front of him, her stance firm. The tension between them was instant—a collision of forces that knew they were bound to fight.
The man chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “Specter,” he mused. His voice was deep, smooth, too casual for someone about to face a fight.
Specter narrowed her eyes behind her mask. “You have a name?”
He let out an amused breath before nodding. “Call me Erebus.”
The name sent a chill down her spine. It suited him—dark, ominous, like something lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
She clenched her fists. “What do you want?”
Erebus sighed dramatically, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “Such a broad question,” he mused. “Should I start with short-term or long-term goals?”
Specter’s muscles tensed. She didn’t like the way he was speaking, like this was some kind of game.
“You’re robbing a bank,” she stated. “You must need money for something.”
Erebus let out a short laugh. “Oh, Specter. You’re thinking too small.”
The air around them shifted.
Without warning, flames erupted from his hand, swirling and twisting unnaturally. The fire danced along his fingers like a living creature, casting a golden glow against the night.
Specter didn’t flinch.
Erebus examined the fire lazily before extinguishing it with a flick of his wrist. His eyes gleamed with something dark—something far more dangerous than greed.
“I’m not here to steal,” he continued, stepping forward. “I’m here to take control.”
Specter’s heartbeat slowed, steadying herself. Control. That was worse than stealing.
“You want power,” she said, voice even.
Erebus smirked. “I am power.”
The ground beneath him cracked as ice shot upward, forming jagged spikes where he stood. The temperature around them dropped instantly.
Specter barely had time to move before the ice shattered into shards, launching toward her at high speed. She flipped backward, dodging the majority, but one sharp piece grazed her side, slicing through the fabric of her suit.
She landed on her feet, one hand pressed to her wound. Blood.
He was stronger than before.
“You see,” Erebus continued, flexing his fingers as the ice melted into water at his feet, “this world is built on illusions. Rules, governments, laws—they give people the false belief that they’re safe.”
He lifted his hand, and in an instant, the water at his feet turned into lightning.
Specter barely had time to jump before the electricity surged, crackling against the pavement where she had just stood.
Erebus turned toward her, smiling. Smug. Confident.
“But safety is an illusion, too.”
Specter gritted her teeth.
He wasn’t just a criminal.
He was a fanatic.
“You want to destroy everything,” she said.
Erebus chuckled. “Destroy?” He shook his head. “No, no. I want to fix this world. Rebuild it.” His eyes gleamed dangerously. “Under my control.”
Specter didn’t wait for him to make another move—she attacked first.
She lunged forward, twisting midair and aiming a sharp kick at his ribs. But he was ready.
A gust of wind slammed into her, knocking her off course. Erebus sidestepped easily as she skidded against the pavement.
Damn it. He was faster. Stronger. More prepared than their last encounter.
Specter rolled onto her feet, breathing hard. Her mind was racing. How was she supposed to counter someone who could switch between elements so effortlessly?
Erebus tilted his head at her, amused. “I expected more from you.”
Specter didn’t answer. She was already analyzing. Fire. Ice. Lightning. Wind. His abilities weren’t random. He could only use one at a time.
That meant there was a gap. A window between switching.
She just had to find it.
Erebus sighed, shaking his head. “Disappointing.” He lifted his hand, fire flickering to life once again. “Shall we end this—?”
Specter moved.
She dashed forward, feinting left before twisting right—forcing him to react.
Erebus instinctively switched from fire to ice, forming a protective barrier—and that’s when she struck.
The switch took a split second.
A split second where he wasn’t protected.
Specter exploited it.
She ducked low and swept his legs out from under him.
Erebus’s smirk faltered as he stumbled, but he caught himself before fully falling. He spun, eyes flashing with annoyance.
“Oh,” he muttered. “That was clever.”
Specter didn’t let up. She pressed forward, landing a solid punch to his ribs before he could fully recover. Erebus winced, staggering slightly.
For the first time tonight, he looked irritated.
“Well,” he exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “This was fun.”
And then, before Specter could react—he vanished.
The ice beneath his feet cracked, and in an instant, he was gone. The remnants of his power flickered in the air, leaving behind only the cold and the eerie silence of the abandoned street.
Specter stood frozen, her breathing uneven.
He ran.
Not because he was scared.
Because this wasn’t the real fight.
This was just the beginning.
Jinsol clenched her fists, her injuries burning, but she ignored the pain.
Erebus wanted control.
And he wasn’t going to stop.
She had to be ready.
Yoona sat on her bed, legs crossed, fingers tapping against her phone screen. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying the fight she had seen the night before—the way Specter moved, how her body twisted mid-air, how she countered Erebus’s attacks like she was born for battle.
And then there was the moment Specter had said her name.
That part wouldn’t leave Yoona’s head.
Across the room, her housemate, Lily, was lying on her stomach, scrolling through her own phone. She hadn’t said anything for a while, but then, as if sensing Yoona’s thoughts, she spoke.
“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Lily mused, not even bothering to look up.
Yoona didn’t answer right away. She bit the inside of her cheek, then sighed. “It’s not weird to think about her.”
Lily finally looked up, resting her chin on her palm. “It is when it’s every day,” she teased.
Yoona scoffed, tossing a pillow at her. “Shut up.”
Lily caught it easily, laughing. But then her expression shifted, turning more curious. “You really like Specter, huh?”
Yoona hesitated. Like? That wasn’t the word she’d use. She was fascinated by Specter. Drawn to her.
She had always admired the vigilante, ever since the first time Specter appeared in the city. But now, after seeing her up close, after hearing her say her name, after noticing the similarities between Specter and someone else in her life—
Yoona wanted to know her.
“She’s different,” Yoona admitted.
Lily raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”
Yoona looked down at her phone. A news article was still open—“Mysterious Vigilante Specter Faces New Threat: Who Will Win?”
“She’s not like other heroes,” Yoona said slowly. “She doesn’t work with the police. She doesn’t try to be in the spotlight. She just—”
“Does her own thing?” Lily finished for her.
Yoona nodded. “Yeah.”
Lily hummed, flipping onto her back. “You know, most people would just watch her fights online like normal fans.” She turned her head, smirking. “But not you. No, you’re out here tracking her like a detective.”
Yoona rolled her eyes. “I’m not tracking her.”
Lily raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe a little,” Yoona admitted, huffing. “But it’s not just her. There’s also this new villain—Erebus.”
At that, Lily sat up, fully interested. “Oh, yeah, I saw the news about him. Dude’s crazy. Controls elements, right?”
“Yeah,” Yoona confirmed. “And he’s powerful. Specter struggled against him last night.”
Lily frowned. “That bad?”
Yoona exhaled, staring at the ceiling. “She got hurt.”
The words tasted bitter in her mouth. She had felt helpless watching from the sidelines, unable to do anything while Specter took hit after hit. It was the first time she had seen her falter.
And that scared her.
Lily studied her for a moment. Then, in a softer tone, she asked, “Why does it bother you so much?”
Yoona opened her mouth, then closed it.
She didn’t know how to explain it.
Was it admiration? Worry? Something else?
After a pause, she finally muttered, “I just… don’t want her to lose.”
Lily was quiet for a beat. Then, she grinned. “Damn. You’ve got it bad.”
Yoona groaned, flopping back onto her bed. “Shut. Up.”
Lily laughed, but then she turned thoughtful. “So, what now? You gonna keep playing detective?”
Yoona stared at the ceiling.
“…Yeah.”
Lily snorted. “You’re insane.”
Yoona smirked. “Maybe.”
But deep down, she knew it wasn’t just about finding out who Specter really was.
It was about helping her.
Jinsol shut the door behind her and leaned against it, exhaling a shaky breath. The moment she stepped into her small apartment, the exhaustion hit her all at once.
Her body ached—more than usual. She peeled off her hoodie, wincing as she felt the sting of fresh wounds. The fight with Erebus had pushed her to her limit, and even though she had landed some hits, it hadn’t been enough.
She had failed.
She made her way to the bathroom, flicking on the light. The mirror reflected the damage she had been ignoring—burn marks, bruises, cuts. Her once-pristine suit was torn in several places, dark stains spreading across the fabric.
She hissed as she lifted her shirt, revealing an ugly burn along her ribs. It had gotten worse since earlier, the edges darkening. She touched it gingerly, feeling the heat still radiating from her skin.
Damn it.
She turned on the faucet, running cold water over a cloth before pressing it against the wound. The sudden chill made her shiver, but it was better than the pain.
Her mind raced.
Erebus wasn’t just some criminal with a gun or a knife. He wasn’t like the low-level gangs she had taken down before. He was something else entirely—stronger, faster, unpredictable.
And worst of all?
She didn’t know how to beat him.
Jinsol clenched her jaw. That wasn’t acceptable.
She had spent years training, honing her abilities, learning how to read her enemies. But this was different. Erebus could control elements, switch between them at will. He didn’t just fight—he commanded his environment.
And she had barely made it out alive.
The thought made her stomach twist. If she hadn’t figured out that small delay in his power switch, would she have even escaped?
Would she have survived?
Jinsol let out a frustrated breath, gripping the edge of the sink. The cool porcelain against her fingertips grounded her, but it didn’t erase the feeling gnawing at her chest.
She was Specter. She was supposed to protect this city.
But right now?
She felt helpless.
Her eyes flickered to the mirror again, taking in her own reflection—the tired eyes, the fresh wounds, the weight of failure settling into her bones.
She had to find another way.
She had to get stronger.
Kyujin was observant. She didn’t always say much, but she noticed everything.
And lately, there was one thing she couldn’t ignore—Yoona was always near Jinsol.
It wasn’t just coincidence anymore.
At first, Kyujin thought Yoona was just being friendly. Maybe she was finally warming up to people outside of her usual circle. But then it became consistent. Every time they had class, every time they met up for their project, Yoona found a way to sit next to Jinsol, talk to Jinsol, walk with Jinsol.
Even now, as they sat in the campus café, Kyujin watched as Yoona subtly leaned in toward Jinsol, asking her something in that quiet, thoughtful tone she always used.
Jinsol, for her part, didn’t seem to notice how unusual it was. She just answered naturally, laughing a little at something Yoona said.
But Kyujin noticed.
She leaned toward Haewon, nudging her lightly. “You see this, right?” she whispered.
Haewon, sipping her iced coffee, barely glanced up. “See what?”
Kyujin rolled her eyes. “Them.” She nodded toward the two. “Yoona’s been glued to Jinsol lately.”
Haewon finally looked over and raised an eyebrow. “Huh. You’re right.” She smirked. “Damn, never thought I’d see the day. Yoona actually chasing someone?”
Kyujin hummed, still watching them closely. “It’s weird, though.”
“What? That she’s interested in Jinsol?” Haewon teased. “I mean, it makes sense. Jinsol’s hot.”
Kyujin sighed. “Not what I meant.”
Haewon laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Okay, detective, what’s your theory?”
Kyujin crossed her arms. “It’s too sudden. Yoona’s never shown this much interest in anyone before. And now, all of a sudden, she’s actively seeking Jinsol out?”
Haewon tapped her fingers against her cup. “Maybe she’s just crushing.”
Kyujin frowned. “Maybe… or maybe she’s up to something.”
Haewon scoffed. “What, you think she’s a spy? That she’s investigating Jinsol?”
Kyujin didn’t answer right away. But the thought lingered.
Something about Yoona’s behavior wasn’t normal. The way she observed Jinsol, the way she asked subtle but specific questions, the way her eyes flickered toward Jinsol’s hands, her movements, even the way she walked.
It was like Yoona was looking for something.
“…I don’t know,” Kyujin murmured. “But I’m gonna find out.”
Haewon raised an eyebrow. “Damn, now you’re the one acting like a spy.”
Kyujin just smirked. “Call it curiosity.”
But deep down, she had a feeling—
Yoona wasn’t just interested in Jinsol.
She was searching for something.
Jinsol and Yoona had gotten closer over the past few weeks, their conversations shifting from formal to casual, and eventually to something that felt almost natural. Jinsol never imagined she'd be on such friendly terms with Yoona, the same girl she once thought was unreachable.
At first, it was small things—Yoona would greet her first, linger a little longer after class, ask her about things unrelated to their project. Then, as time passed, it became effortless. Jinsol found herself joking with Yoona more, teasing her, and to her surprise, Yoona teased her back.
It was refreshing. It was dangerous.
Because the closer they got, the more Yoona observed.
And Jinsol knew she had to be careful.
They were sitting outside after class, enjoying the warm afternoon sun. Kyujin and Haewon had already left, leaving just the two of them.
Jinsol stretched her arms above her head, groaning. “I swear, if that professor talks for another five minutes about ‘engaging discussions,’ I might just drop out.”
Yoona smirked. “And do what? Become a full-time gym rat?”
Jinsol gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I have many other talents, thank you very much.”
Yoona arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Like what?”
Jinsol opened her mouth to answer but hesitated. She couldn't exactly say, "I can knock out five armed criminals in under two minutes."
“…Cooking?” she tried instead.
Yoona gave her a look. “No way.”
Jinsol scoffed. “I’ll have you know, my ramen game is top-tier.”
Yoona burst out laughing. “Wow, boiling water? That’s some real talent.”
Jinsol narrowed her eyes playfully. “Alright, Gordon Ramsay, what about you?”
Yoona smirked. “Unlike you, I can actually cook.”
Jinsol groaned. “That’s not fair, you like cooking.”
“Exactly.”
They both laughed, and for a moment, it was easy.
No fights, no criminals, no Specter—just them.
But then Yoona, still grinning, reached out and poked Jinsol’s side.
It was meant to be playful, lighthearted.
But the moment Yoona’s fingers touched her ribs—
Pain.
Jinsol tensed, her breath hitching as a sharp sting shot through her body. She instinctively flinched, barely managing to suppress a wince.
Yoona immediately noticed. Her laughter faded, her smile replaced by a look of concern. “Wait—” Her voice softened. “Did I hurt you?”
Jinsol forced a chuckle, waving a hand. “What? No, I just—” She shifted slightly, trying to play it off. “You caught me off guard.”
Yoona didn't look convinced.
She studied Jinsol, her dark eyes flickering with something unreadable. Before Jinsol could react, Yoona reached out again.
This time, her touch was lighter, more careful—but it still landed right where the burn was.
Jinsol winced.
It was slight, barely noticeable—but Yoona caught it.
Her expression changed in an instant. Her playful smirk was gone, replaced by something sharper, something curious.
“Jinsol.” Her voice was softer now, careful. “You’re hurt.”
Jinsol quickly shook her head. “It’s nothing, I—”
But Yoona wasn’t buying it.
She leaned in slightly, scanning Jinsol with that same analyzing gaze she always used when trying to solve something. Jinsol could practically see the gears turning in her head.
Yoona wasn’t just concerned.
She was suspicious.
Jinsol swallowed, forcing a nonchalant shrug. “I just pulled a muscle at the gym,” she lied smoothly. “Happens all the time.”
Yoona stared at her.
Jinsol kept her face neutral, holding her ground.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt thicker, heavier.
Then, finally, Yoona leaned back.
“…Right.”
Jinsol let out a slow breath, pretending to take a sip from her drink as if the entire interaction hadn’t just made her heart race.
Yoona didn’t say anything else. She didn’t push further.
But something in her eyes changed.
She was watching Jinsol differently now. Not just as a classmate, not just as a friend—but as someone she was trying to figure out.
Jinsol had been careful all this time. But now?
Now, Yoona was getting too close.
And Jinsol didn’t know if she should be worried—
Or if a part of her wanted Yoona to find out.
—
The city was alive with the hum of cars, the chatter of pedestrians, and the distant wailing of sirens. Neon lights flickered against the dark sky, illuminating the chaos unfolding in the middle of a busy intersection.
Specter stood her ground, breathing hard, her body aching from the repeated blows she had taken. Erebus—the new villain terrorizing the city—stood across from her, barely scratched.
His ability to manipulate elements made him nearly untouchable. One second he was hurling fire at her, the next, he was coating the ground in ice, making her footing unstable. Every time she tried to land a hit, he either blocked it effortlessly or countered with brutal force.
Jinsol gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stand. Her body was screaming at her to stop, to retreat—but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
Erebus, noticing her struggle, let out a low chuckle. “Getting tired, little hero?” His voice was smooth, mocking. “You’ve been falling an awful lot tonight.”
Specter didn’t respond. She was too busy scanning her surroundings, looking for an opening—anything she could use against him.
But there was nothing.
Just a busy street filled with terrified civilians watching from the sidelines. Some had their phones out, recording. Others had fled the moment the fight started.
Erebus rolled his shoulders, his hands glowing with a molten red hue. Fire. He was going for a stronger attack this time.
“You’ve been fun,” he mused, raising his hand. The flames crackled dangerously, illuminating the cruel smirk on his face. “But I think it’s time we end this.”
Specter couldn’t move fast enough. Her legs were sluggish, her body barely responding. She tried to dodge, but she knew—this was it.
The attack was coming.
Then—
Something hit Erebus in the head.
Hard.
The villain stumbled slightly, blinking in surprise. The flames in his hand flickered as he turned his head to see what had just struck him.
A small, half-empty soda can rolled onto the pavement.
And standing a few feet behind him, looking entirely unafraid, was Yoona.
Specter’s breath caught in her throat.
Yoona?!
She was supposed to be far away from this fight. She was supposed to be safe.
Yet there she was, standing in the middle of the street, her expression unreadable, her stance unwavering.
Erebus let out a slow chuckle, rubbing the back of his head where the can had hit him. “Really?” He turned to fully face Yoona. “That’s your big move?”
Yoona didn’t flinch. “It was either that or my shoe,” she said flatly.
Specter nearly choked.
Was she insane?!
Erebus tilted his head, seemingly amused. “And who might you be?”
Yoona didn’t answer. She simply crossed her arms and stared him down.
Specter knew that look.
Yoona wasn’t just trying to distract him.
She was buying her time.
And Specter wasn’t about to waste it.
Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to move. While Erebus was still focused on Yoona, she launched herself forward, using the last of her strength to land a powerful kick to the back of his knee.
Erebus stumbled, momentarily caught off guard.
That was all she needed.
Specter spun, using the momentum to slam her fist into his ribs. The impact sent him crashing into a parked car, the metal denting under his weight.
The fight wasn’t over.
But Yoona had given her an opening.
And that was enough.
Erebus shook off the impact, his dark eyes narrowing as he straightened up. His smirk was gone, replaced by something colder. Annoyed.
"You know," he said, flexing his fingers as ice began forming at his fingertips, "I usually don’t bother with civilians." His gaze settled on Yoona, who still stood her ground despite the clear danger. "But since you’re so eager to get involved…"
He raised his hand, a jagged spike of ice forming in his palm.
Specter’s heart dropped.
Yoona was too close.
Too close.
The ice shot forward.
Specter didn’t think—she moved.
In an instant, she was there, grabbing Yoona and pulling her out of the way. The ice spike shattered against the pavement where Yoona had been standing just seconds ago.
Specter barely gave her time to react before taking off, dragging Yoona with her as she ran.
“Wait—what are you—?!” Yoona’s protest was cut off as Specter pulled her through the maze of streets and alleys, her grip tight, firm. She had to get them far from Erebus, somewhere safe, somewhere quiet.
Yoona stumbled slightly but kept up, her breath uneven. "You—You're bleeding," she managed to say between steps. "You—You need to—"
"Shut up and run," Specter said, her voice sharp.
Yoona did.
They ran until the sounds of the city faded, until the streets grew quieter, until the neon lights didn’t shine so brightly. Finally, Specter pulled them into a dark, empty alleyway, pressing Yoona against the brick wall and shielding her with her body.
Silence.
For the first time since the fight started, Specter allowed herself to breathe.
Yoona was safe.
Erebus hadn’t followed.
She let go of Yoona’s wrist, taking a step back. Her body screamed in pain, but she forced herself to ignore it.
Yoona, still pressed against the wall, stared at her.
Neither of them spoke.
The only sound between them was the distant hum of the city and their uneven breaths.
Then—
"You know my name."
Specter froze.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as Yoona’s words settled between them.
Her voice was soft, but her eyes—sharp, certain.
"You called me Yoona back there," she said, stepping forward. "Before you grabbed me."
Specter clenched her fists.
She had slipped.
Yoona knew.
And for the first time in a long time, Specter—Jinsol—didn’t know what to do.
Jinsol felt her body freeze.
She had been through countless fights, faced dangerous criminals, dodged death itself—but this? This was something she wasn’t prepared for.
The way Yoona looked at her.
The way she knew.
"You called me Yoona," Yoona repeated, her voice quieter this time. "And you’ve never slipped up before."
Jinsol didn’t move, didn’t say a word. She knew that denying it wouldn’t work. Yoona was too sharp, too observant. She had been watching her closely these past few days—too closely.
Then—
"Jinsol."
Hearing her real name come from Yoona’s lips while she was still in the suit sent a shiver down her spine.
Jinsol didn’t stop her when Yoona stepped forward.
Didn’t stop her when her fingers reached up.
Didn’t stop her when she grasped the edge of her mask.
Jinsol only watched as Yoona slowly, carefully, pulled the fabric away.
The cool night air hit her face.
The mask slipped from Yoona’s fingers, falling onto the pavement between them.
For the first time, there was nothing separating them.
Jinsol stood there—exposed, vulnerable—as Bae Jinsol, not Specter.
And Yoona?
She only stared.
The way the dim streetlight flickered above them made the moment feel unreal. Jinsol could see the way Yoona’s lips parted slightly, the flicker of emotions in her eyes. Shock. Realization. Understanding.
But what Jinsol feared most—what she had been terrified of since the moment she started growing closer to Yoona—wasn’t there.
There was no disappointment.
No anger.
No betrayal.
Just Yoona. Looking at her as if she was seeing her for the first time.
Jinsol swallowed, her throat dry. "Say something."
Yoona blinked, as if pulled from a trance.
Then, after a long, deep breath—
"I knew it," she whispered.
Jinsol let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
Yoona’s gaze softened as she stepped closer, her fingertips trailing along the cut on Jinsol’s cheek.
Jinsol tensed at the touch, her muscles instinctively flinching. Not from pain—she had endured worse—but from the gentleness.
Yoona was touching her like she was fragile. Like she wasn’t the masked vigilante who had spent the night getting tossed around by a man who could control the elements. Like she wasn’t used to fighting through pain, pushing past exhaustion, bleeding without complaint.
The warmth of Yoona’s fingertips against her skin felt too soft. Too careful.
"You’re hurt," Yoona murmured, almost to herself. Her fingers followed the path of a dried streak of blood, her brows knitting together.
Jinsol had been ready for a confrontation. A thousand questions. Accusations. But not this.
Not Yoona touching her like she mattered.
Jinsol swallowed. "It’s nothing."
Yoona’s eyes flickered up to hers, sharp and disbelieving. "It’s not nothing." Her voice was steady, but there was an undeniable edge of frustration. "You took a direct hit back there. You can barely stand right now."
Jinsol almost scoffed. "You sound like Haewon."
Yoona ignored her deflection. Her fingers lingered, tracing along Jinsol’s jaw, then down to the bruise forming on her neck.
Jinsol let her.
Even though her body ached, even though she was standing without the mask she had always hidden behind, she let Yoona touch her.
"Why didn’t you tell me?" Yoona finally asked, voice softer now.
Jinsol looked at her, at the way the streetlight reflected in her eyes, at the quiet intensity in her expression.
"Would you have believed me?"
Yoona hesitated.
And in that moment, they both knew the answer.
Jinsol exhaled sharply, stepping back—just enough to break the contact. She couldn’t afford to be this close to Yoona. Not now. Not when her body was screaming from the injuries, not when Erebus was still out there, and definitely not when Yoona had just learned the truth.
"You need to get away from me," Jinsol said, her voice low and firm.
Yoona’s brows furrowed. "What?"
Jinsol clenched her fists, ignoring the dull throb in her knuckles. "If you don’t want to die, stay far away from me."
Yoona blinked, her expression shifting from concern to something sharper. "You think I’m just going to walk away after this?"
"Yes," Jinsol said immediately.
Yoona scoffed. "Are you serious? You’re standing in front of me—bleeding, barely able to hold yourself up—telling me to leave? After everything?"
Jinsol hated the way Yoona was looking at her.
Like she wasn’t afraid. Like she wasn’t about to walk away.
"Yoona—"
"No," Yoona cut in, stepping forward again. "You don’t get to push me away like this."
Jinsol inhaled sharply, her patience thinning. "This isn’t a joke. You saw what Erebus can do. He almost killed you. If you keep getting involved, it won’t be ‘almost’ next time."
"I know," Yoona said, her voice steady.
Jinsol froze.
"I know it’s dangerous," Yoona continued, holding her gaze. "I know what you’re up against. I know that if I stay, I could get hurt. But that doesn’t change anything."
Jinsol gritted her teeth. "Then you’re an idiot."
"Maybe." Yoona shrugged. "But I’d rather be an idiot than abandon you."
Jinsol felt her heart lurch in her chest.
No.
She couldn’t let Yoona do this. Couldn’t let her get closer.
She forced herself to look away, to take another step back. "You don’t understand, Yoona. People like me—" She swallowed hard. "We don’t get to have things. Not friends, not normal lives, and definitely not—"
She stopped herself before she could say it.
But Yoona heard it anyway.
Definitely not you.
A heavy silence settled between them.
Then, softly—
"I’m not leaving you, Jinsol."
Jinsol clenched her jaw.
She wanted to argue. Wanted to push Yoona away again. Wanted to make her understand that getting close to her only led to danger, to loss, to pain.
But Yoona was looking at her like she had already made up her mind.
And for the first time, Jinsol didn’t know if she had the strength to fight her.
Jinsol swallowed the lump in her throat.
She had fought criminals, taken hits that could’ve killed her, stared death in the face too many times to count. But this? This was harder.
Because Yoona wasn’t an enemy she could punch. She wasn’t someone she could just walk away from.
And she wasn’t making this easy.
Jinsol’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You don’t get it, Yoona. I can’t do this."
Yoona didn’t move. "Why not?"
"Because I can’t afford to care about you like that," Jinsol snapped, the words sharper than she intended. "I can’t—" She took a breath, steadying herself. "I can’t have something like that. It’s too dangerous."
Yoona just stared.
And then, finally, Jinsol saw it—understanding.
Yoona had always wondered why Jinsol had never dated anyone, never even seemed interested. She had turned down every confession, ignored every lingering glance.
And now, Yoona knew.
This was why.
Because Jinsol wasn’t just a normal university student. Because she spent her nights bleeding in alleyways, throwing herself into danger. Because anyone close to her would become a target.
Because caring about someone was a weakness.
Because losing them would be unbearable.
Yoona exhaled, crossing her arms. "So you’re just going to push me away?"
Jinsol forced herself to nod. "Yes."
"You think that’s going to work?"
"It has to."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Jinsol took a deep breath, steadying herself before looking Yoona in the eyes. This had to end here.
"Yoona," she said, her voice firm. "Stop chasing Specter. Stop writing about me. There’s no point now—not after knowing who’s under the mask."
Yoona’s expression barely changed, but Jinsol saw the way her fingers tightened around her sleeves. The way her posture stiffened.
"And what if I don’t?" Yoona challenged, lifting her chin.
Jinsol exhaled sharply. "Then I’ll make sure you have no reason to."
"Is that a threat?"
"It’s a warning."
A silence stretched between them, heavy with things unsaid.
Jinsol knew Yoona—knew how stubborn she was. She wasn’t the type to back down just because someone told her to. But Jinsol needed her to understand.
"You wanted to meet Specter," Jinsol continued, her voice quieter now. "You got what you wanted. So let it go."
Yoona’s jaw tightened. "You think that’s why I did all of this?"
Jinsol didn’t answer.
Yoona let out a breath, shaking her head with a bitter chuckle. "You’re unbelievable, Jinsol."
Jinsol clenched her fists. "I’m trying to protect you."
"By pushing me away?"
"Yes."
Yoona stared at her for a long moment, and Jinsol saw it again—the understanding.
She wasn’t just telling Yoona to stop writing about Specter.
She was telling her to stop chasing her.
To let her go.
Yoona’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Instead, she exhaled, taking a small step back.
"Fine," she said. "If that’s what you really want."
Jinsol nodded, ignoring the way her chest ached. "It is."
Yoona didn’t say anything else. She just looked at her one last time before turning away.
She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t angry.
She was just waiting.
Waiting for Jinsol to change her mind.
But Jinsol didn’t.
She couldn’t.
And Jinsol let her go.
The next day, Yoona sat at her usual spot in class, trying to focus on her notes. She told herself she wouldn’t think about Jinsol. That she wouldn’t let last night’s conversation affect her.
But the moment Jinsol walked in, Yoona’s resolve crumbled.
Her eyes immediately landed on the fresh bandaids covering Jinsol’s cheek and temple. There was a faint bruise along her jaw, and the way she moved—slower, stiffer—told Yoona that her injuries weren’t just limited to her face.
Jinsol hadn’t healed.
If anything, she looked worse than before.
Yoona’s grip on her pen tightened. She shouldn’t care. Jinsol made it clear—stay away, stop chasing, forget about Specter.
But how was she supposed to do that when the evidence of Jinsol’s reckless self-destruction was right in front of her?
And to make things worse, the only empty seat left in the room was right next to her.
Jinsol hesitated for half a second before sliding into the chair, placing her bag down with a quiet thud. She didn’t look at Yoona. Didn’t greet her. Just sat there, arms crossed, staring straight ahead.
Yoona did the same.
For the first few minutes, they didn’t speak.
Yoona wanted to say something. She wanted to ask about the bandaids, wanted to ask if Jinsol had even bothered treating the rest of her wounds.
But she knew how that conversation would go.
Jinsol would dismiss it. Would say it was nothing. Would push her away again.
So Yoona bit her tongue, tapping her pen against her notebook, pretending she wasn’t boiling with frustration.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jinsol shift slightly, rolling her shoulder with a wince.
That was it.
Yoona turned to her, voice quiet but sharp. "Did you even put medicine on the rest of your injuries?"
Jinsol’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look at her. "It’s fine."
Yoona let out a dry laugh. "Of course it is."
Jinsol exhaled through her nose. "Yoona—"
"You told me to stop chasing Specter," Yoona cut in. "Fine. But you’re still Jinsol. And I’m still going to notice when you show up looking like you got thrown off a building."
Jinsol finally turned to face her, her expression unreadable.
For a moment, it looked like she was going to argue.
Then she sighed, leaning back in her seat.
"I’m used to it," Jinsol muttered.
Yoona frowned. "That’s not the point."
"Then what is?"
Yoona held her gaze. "That you don’t have to get used to it alone."
Jinsol stilled.
She didn’t reply. Didn’t push Yoona away this time.
And that silence told Yoona everything.
The moment class ended, Yoona grabbed Jinsol’s wrist and pulled her out of the lecture hall before she could protest.
"Where are we going?" Jinsol asked, already sounding suspicious.
"Somewhere quiet," Yoona said vaguely, not slowing down.
Jinsol sighed but let herself be dragged along. "You know, if anyone saw this, they’d think you’re kidnapping me."
"Good," Yoona deadpanned. "Maybe then you’ll actually listen."
Jinsol groaned but didn’t fight back. That alone told Yoona just how exhausted she really was.
She led them to an empty study room in the library, dropping her bag on the table before turning to Jinsol with a no-nonsense look.
"Sit."
Jinsol raised an eyebrow. "Bossy."
"Jinsol."
"Fine, fine," Jinsol muttered, plopping down onto a chair.
Yoona pulled out a small first-aid kit from her bag, making Jinsol blink in surprise.
"You just carry that around?" Jinsol asked, eyeing the kit warily.
Yoona rolled her eyes. "Not usually. But after seeing you show up like this, I figured I should be prepared."
Jinsol didn’t know whether to feel touched or called out.
"Now, sit still," Yoona ordered, opening the kit.
Jinsol tried. She really did.
But the second Yoona pressed disinfectant onto a particularly bad cut, she jerked back with a yelp.
"OW—Yoona, what the hell—"
"Stop moving," Yoona scolded, gripping Jinsol’s shoulder to keep her still.
"It stings!"
"It’s supposed to sting!"
Jinsol pouted. Actually pouted.
Yoona paused, staring at her. "Are you… tearing up?"
Jinsol immediately wiped at her eyes, offended. "No! It’s just—reflex!"
Yoona bit back a smile.
"Okay, big baby, I’ll be gentler," she said, softening her touch as she continued treating the wound.
Jinsol grumbled under her breath but didn’t protest anymore.
After a while, the only sound in the room was the quiet rustling of bandages and the occasional sharp inhale from Jinsol whenever Yoona touched a particularly sore spot.
When Yoona finally finished, she leaned back, inspecting her work.
"There," she said, satisfied. "Try not to get yourself killed for at least a week, okay?"
Jinsol huffed. "No promises."
Yoona shot her a look.
Jinsol grinned despite herself. "But… thanks."
Yoona just sighed, shaking her head. "Someone has to take care of you."
Jinsol’s grin faltered slightly.
Because for a moment, it felt like Yoona actually meant it. Not just today, but always.
And that thought?
That was more terrifying than any villain she had ever faced.
Jinsol had barely recovered from Yoona's surprisingly gentle treatment when Yoona hit her with something far worse than disinfectant.
"I want to help you fight Erebus."
Jinsol froze.
The room, which had been filled with soft grumbles and teasing just moments ago, suddenly felt too small.
Jinsol snapped her head up. "What?"
Yoona didn’t waver. "I’ve been researching him. He’s dangerous, but he has weaknesses—"
"No."
Yoona blinked at the immediate, cold rejection. "Jinsol—"
"I said no."
Jinsol’s voice was sharper than it had been all day. Gone was the Jinsol who had been whining about disinfectant or teasing Yoona with a grin.
This was Specter.
"You don’t understand," Jinsol said, standing up abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. "Erebus isn’t some street thug, Yoona. He’s not just a villain in your little research project. He’s—he’s different. He wants to burn this city down, and he’s strong enough to do it."
Yoona stood too. "Then all the more reason you shouldn’t be fighting him alone!"
Jinsol clenched her fists. "I’ve been doing this for years. I know what I’m doing."
"Do you?" Yoona challenged. "Because last time, he almost killed you."
Jinsol’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.
"And what, you think I can just sit here and do nothing?" Yoona continued, stepping closer. "You think I can just watch you get yourself hurt over and over again?"
Jinsol took a step back, voice low. "Yes."
Yoona stared at her.
"That’s exactly what I expect you to do," Jinsol said, her expression unreadable. "Because this isn’t your fight. It never was. And if you’re smart, you’ll stay out of it."
Yoona’s fingers curled into fists. "I thought you said you were trying to protect me. But you’re not just protecting me, are you?"
Jinsol stayed silent.
"You’re protecting yourself."
Jinsol’s eyes flickered.
"You don’t want me to help because you’re afraid," Yoona said, voice quieter now. "Afraid of what happens if you let someone in. If you stop fighting alone. If you lose me."
Jinsol flinched.
And that reaction was all the confirmation Yoona needed.
She softened. "Jinsol—"
"Drop it."
Jinsol’s voice wasn’t angry anymore. Just tired.
Yoona hesitated.
"I mean it, Yoona," Jinsol continued, looking away. "This conversation is over."
Yoona exhaled sharply, frustrated but knowing she wouldn’t win this argument. Not today.
Jinsol didn’t respond.
She just grabbed her bag, turned, and walked out—like she was running from something.
Jinsol stormed out of the library, her breath coming in sharp bursts. She needed to get away, to clear her head—
But Yoona wasn’t done.
"Jinsol, wait!"
Footsteps rushed after her. Jinsol gritted her teeth, ignoring them, but Yoona grabbed her wrist before she could disappear down the stairs.
"I promise I’ll be careful!" Yoona pleaded. "I won’t do anything reckless, I just—"
Jinsol whipped around.
"That’s what they said too!" she snapped, voice cracking with something dangerously close to grief.
Yoona froze.
Jinsol’s chest heaved, fists clenched at her sides. She looked… furious. But beneath the anger, there was something else—something raw, something that made Yoona’s heart ache.
"The last time I let someone get involved with me," Jinsol continued, voice low, trembling, "I lost them."
Yoona’s grip on her wrist loosened.
Jinsol exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair before glaring at Yoona.
"I barely survived that." Her voice was barely a whisper now, but the weight of it was crushing. "You think I can survive losing you too?"
Yoona’s breath hitched.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt too heavy.
Finally, Jinsol shook her head, stepping back. "Just… stop, Yoona."
Yoona’s throat tightened, but she refused to look away.
"Jinsol," she whispered.
But Jinsol was already walking away.
And this time, Yoona didn’t chase her.
Jinsol walked away, her steps quick, deliberate, as if putting distance between them would also put distance between the ache growing in her chest. But no matter how far she walked, the weight of Yoona’s voice, her pleading, her determination, still clung to her like an invisible chain.
She could still feel Yoona’s eyes on her, filled with so much emotion—confusion, frustration, something deeper, something raw.
Jinsol didn’t turn back. She couldn’t.
Because if she saw Yoona’s face right now, if she let herself look into those eyes that had been watching her so closely lately, she would break.
She could pretend all she wanted, but the truth was clear.
She loved Yoona.
It wasn’t just a crush anymore. It wasn’t just admiration or curiosity. It was real. And it was terrifying.
Maybe she had known it from the moment she saw Yoona standing in front of Specter, smiling at her like she was something more than just a masked hero. Maybe she had known it when she started watching Yoona from afar, memorizing the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking too hard, or the way she always chewed on her straw when she drank something cold.
Maybe she had known it when she stopped wanting to be just Specter in Yoona’s eyes, and started wanting to be Jinsol.
But it didn’t matter.
Because loving Yoona meant keeping her safe.
Jinsol clenched her fists as she turned a corner, finally out of Yoona’s sight. She leaned against the cold brick wall of a building, her breath shaky.
Letting Yoona get close to her would only bring her danger.
She had already lost someone before. Someone who had believed in her, someone who had wanted to fight alongside her. And now, that person was gone.
She had barely survived that grief.
She couldn’t go through it again.
She couldn’t lose Yoona.
So if that meant watching from the shadows, if that meant letting Yoona believe she was just a classmate, a fleeting presence in her life, then that’s what Jinsol would do.
She would watch from afar, she would protect Yoona in secret, she would let her think she was just another face in the crowd.
Because Yoona deserved a normal life. A life without fights, without wounds, without the weight of Jinsol’s world dragging her down.
Even if it meant that Jinsol would have to suffer alone.
Even if it meant that Yoona would never know just how much Jinsol loved her.
Jinsol would rather suffer in silence than let Yoona get caught in the fire that burned everything Jinsol touched.
Jinsol wasn’t the only one hurting.
Yoona walked back to her dorm slowly, her feet dragging against the pavement. Her chest felt tight, suffocating, like there was something heavy pressing down on it.
She clenched her fists.
She had been so sure.
Sure that Jinsol felt something for her too. Sure that if she pushed a little harder, if she proved that she wasn’t just some reckless girl chasing after danger, Jinsol would finally let her in.
But instead, she was met with a wall.
A wall built from fear, from grief, from something she couldn’t quite reach.
Yoona let out a bitter laugh, rubbing her arms as the night air grew colder.
She had spent so much time watching Specter, writing about her, admiring her from a distance. But now, she realized—
She had been watching Jinsol too.
The way she always sat at the edge of a group, never fully letting people in. The way she laughed and teased but never really talked about herself. The way she would disappear at random times, coming back looking exhausted, but pretending nothing was wrong.
And now, the bandaids on her face.
Jinsol was suffering alone.
And the worst part?
So was Yoona.
She hadn’t even realized when it had started—when her admiration turned into curiosity, when curiosity turned into interest, and when interest turned into something too deep, too painful, too real.
She cared.
She cared so much that it scared her.
And now, she knew the truth.
Jinsol was pushing her away not because she didn’t care, but because she did.
But was that supposed to make her feel better?
Yoona bit her lip, her steps slowing even more.
Was she supposed to just accept this? That Jinsol would always keep her at arm’s length, always choose to suffer alone rather than let someone in?
Was she supposed to just go back to pretending? To sit next to Jinsol in class, laugh at her stupid jokes, drink coffee with her, knowing that Jinsol was carrying something so heavy all by herself?
That she was choosing to love Yoona from afar rather than risk losing her?
Yoona clenched her jaw.
No.
She wasn’t going to let this end like this.
She wasn’t going to just walk away.
Even if Jinsol refused to let her in, even if she insisted on suffering alone—
Yoona would be there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Loving.
Even if it hurt.