Chapter 15 : The Weight of Truth
The sky was gray the next morning, neither stormy nor clear. It hung like a breath held too long, matching the tightness in Yeri's chest. She sat on the edge of the bed, watching Yunjun sleep for the first time in what felt like forever.
His normally guarded face was relaxed with exhaustion. A bandage wrapped around his right hand, and another rested on his brow. His lips were slightly parted, and even in sleep, his fingers occasionally twitched, as if they couldn't let go of what they had done.
She wanted to reach out, to touch his face, to tell him it was over.
But it wasn't. Not really.
The battle outside was finished, but the one between their hearts was still being fought in silence.
Yunjun stirred sometime around noon. He blinked slowly, momentarily unsure of where he was.
Then his eyes found hers.
"You're still here," he mumbled.
Yeri smiled faintly. "You sound surprised."
"I am," he admitted, his voice raspy. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you left."
Her eyes darkened, not with anger but sadness. "Is that really what you think of me?"
He sat up slowly, wincing a bit. "I don't know what to think of anything lately."
She rose from the chair, picked up the mug of tea she had made hours earlier, and handed it to him. "Then let's start with the truth."
He looked up at her, his brows slightly drawn. "You want to know everything."
"I think I deserve that."
Yunjun nodded. "You do."
They sat together in the quiet room, his tea going cold in his hands. He didn't speak right away. When he finally did, his voice was calm but heavy, as if he was pulling each word from a place he usually kept locked.
"My father was a tyrant."
Yeri blinked. That wasn't what she expected.
"He ran the business before me. Ruthless. He cared more about power than people. When I was twelve, he ordered a hit on a man for stealing a shipment. The man had a family. A daughter. She was about your age now."
His jaw tightened. "I saw her cry at the funeral. Not because of grief. Because no one else cried with her."
Yunjun paused, his eyes distant. "That night, I told myself I'd be better. I wanted to protect the people who couldn't protect themselves. But somewhere along the way, I became him. Cold. Calculating. I turned away from anything soft… anything real."
He looked at her.
"Until you."
Yeri's breath caught. "Yunjun…"
"I brought you here because you reminded me of someone I couldn't save. But then I started wanting you here. For you. Not because you were a ghost from the past. But because you were the only thing that made this place feel like more than just concrete and blood."
He set the mug down. "But I was too much of a coward to say it. I thought if I kept you at arm's length, I could protect you from people like Jack. From people like me."
Yeri reached for his hand, threading her fingers carefully through his.
"You're not your father," she whispered. "And you're not a monster."
Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. "I'm not good, Yeri."
She smiled softly. "Good isn't always clean. Sometimes it's just... trying. Every day."
Later that day, Yunjun took her to a place he had never shown anyone before.
The vault beneath the mansion wasn't filled with gold or weapons. It was full of memories. Dust-covered photo albums, journals, old music tapes—his mother's favorite perfume bottle still half full.
"She left when I was a kid," he said quietly, brushing his fingers over a photo. "But sometimes I wonder if she just didn't know how to stay."
Yeri looked at him, her voice gentle. "Maybe she thought disappearing would protect you."
He looked at her. "And maybe that's what I've been doing too."
She stepped closer, standing toe to toe with him. "You don't have to disappear anymore."
He searched her face, something fragile and fierce in his eyes. "I don't want to."
Then, for the first time since the hospital, he pulled her into his arms—not cautiously, as if she were made of glass—but as if he had finally remembered she was real, and so was he.
The days that followed were quieter.
They had breakfast together, simple things—toast, eggs, tea. Sometimes, they didn't even speak. But the silence felt full, not empty.
Yeri started reading again—books she had left half-finished when everything went dark. She sat in the garden, under the morning sun, while Yunjun watched from the window, quietly stunned by how someone so broken could still appear so whole.
But not everything was calm.
One night, just as they finished dinner, one of Yunjun's men rushed in.
"Sia's gone," he said.
Yunjun stiffened. "What do you mean 'gone'?"
"She left a note. Said she was handling something personal. But she took weapons."
Yunjun cursed under his breath. "She's going after the last of Jack's network. Alone."
Yeri stood. "You have to go after her."
He hesitated. "I don't want to leave you."
She stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest. "Then take me with you."
He blinked. "What?"
"I'm not staying behind anymore. I want to know what you face. What you fight. I want to stand with you."
His first instinct was to say no. But then he saw the fire in her eyes—steady, unafraid.
He nodded. "Okay."
That night, they drove through the city—Yunjun, Yeri, and three guards in separate cars.
Yeri had never seen this side of the world. Not through books or gossip.
Real danger didn't glow red or make loud sounds. It whispered, hid in shadows, and watched.
They found Sia in an abandoned train yard, cornered but still fighting, her gun raised at two men who looked like they hadn't slept in weeks.
Yunjun didn't wait. He stepped between her and them, like he was made of stone.
"Drop your weapons," he growled.
And for once, they listened.
Later, after the dust settled and Sia was safe, Yunjun turned to Yeri.
"I was wrong to shield you from this," he said. "Not because you aren't strong—but because I forgot strength doesn't come from being alone. It comes from trust."
She leaned against his shoulder. "Then let's keep trusting."
He nodded. "Together."
Back at the mansion that night, they didn't say much.
They didn't need to.
Yeri stood by the window again. This time, she wasn't alone.
Yunjun stood behind her, his arms gently wrapping around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.
The city still sparkled below. But now, it didn't seem so far away.
Now, it felt like home.
To be continued...
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