Chapter 18: Ashes Don't Fade
It had been a week since Park Ilho's death.
The city had returned to its rhythm, with honking horns, whispered gossip, and neon lights flickering above cracked sidewalks. But inside the mansion, time moved more slowly. The tension didn't ease just because the war was over. Sometimes, it felt heavier in the silence that followed.
Yeri sat in the library, sunlight pouring over her like a soft blanket. Her hands rested on an unopened book, and her eyes were vacant as she stared out the window.
Birds chirped outside. The garden bloomed.
But she didn't feel it.
She didn't feel anything.
Not fear. Not anger. Not even relief.
Just… empty.
The kind of emptiness that settled behind your ribs and whispered questions when everything was supposed to be fine.
---
Down the hall, Yunjun stood at the edge of the kitchen, watching her from the doorway. A cup of coffee sat forgotten in his hands. He didn't drink it. He just kept watching her, quietly.
She hadn't cried since the night they came back.
She hadn't screamed or talked about it.
She just folded into the quiet, as if it was the only place she belonged.
He walked in slowly and sat down across from her.
"You haven't touched a book in days," he said gently.
"I don't feel like reading."
"Do you feel like anything?"
She looked at him for the first time all morning. Her eyes were calm. Too calm.
"No," she whispered. "That's the problem."
---
They went for a drive that afternoon. No destination—just the road.
Yunjun rolled the windows down and let the wind tangle Yeri's hair. He wanted the world to distract her, even if only for a while. The car moved through the hills and back roads, far from the city, where no one knew who they were or what they'd done.
He glanced at her. "Do you want to talk?"
"I don't know what to say."
"That's okay," he said. "You don't have to."
They passed a lake surrounded by wildflowers.
"Stop here," she said suddenly.
He pulled over.
---
They sat by the water's edge. Yeri took off her shoes and dipped her feet in. The cool water made her gasp slightly. She looked around, then up at the sky.
"It's too peaceful," she said quietly.
Yunjun sat beside her. "Do you want it to be loud?"
"No. I just… I don't know how to live when there isn't danger anymore."
He didn't respond immediately. He just stared at how her reflection shimmered in the water.
"I used to be the same," he said. "Always looking over my shoulder. Planning for the next blow. I didn't know how to be still."
"And now?"
"Now I'm learning. Because of you."
She looked at him. "I'm still figuring out who I am without the fear."
"You're not just your scars, Yeri."
"Then who am I?"
He paused. "You're the girl who brought books into a mansion filled with guns. The girl who saw the worst of me and stayed anyway. The one who never gave up—even when you had every reason to."
Her throat tightened.
"But I'm also the girl who pulled the trigger," she said, her voice shaking. "And I don't know if I'll ever be okay with that."
"You did what you had to do."
"Is that supposed to make it easier?"
"No," he said. "But maybe it makes it survivable."
---
They drove back as the sun dipped behind the hills. The sky turned orange and pink, as if trying to be kind.
When they got home, Soojin was waiting in the hallway, arms crossed.
Yeri tensed automatically.
But Soojin's face was unreadable. Not cruel—just tired.
"Can we talk?" she asked, looking at Yeri.
Yunjun looked between them. "You sure?"
Yeri nodded. "Yeah."
---
They went into the old music room—one of the few places in the mansion that still smelled of cedar and forgotten lullabies.
Soojin leaned against the piano. "I'm not going to pretend we're going to be friends."
"Good," Yeri said honestly. "Because we're not."
Soojin cracked the faintest smile. "But I owe you something."
Yeri said nothing.
Soojin stepped forward. "When you were kidnapped, I didn't sleep. Not because I was scared for you. But because I knew if anything happened to you… Yunjun wouldn't survive it. And if he fell apart, I would've lost the only person I have left in this world."
She met Yeri's eyes. "So you saved him, and I owe you for that."
Yeri's voice was steady. "He's not yours to owe me for."
"I know," Soojin said. "But still. Thank you."
Yeri didn't answer right away.
Then she said, "You hurt me before. Physically. Emotionally. That doesn't vanish just because we're both breathing."
Soojin nodded. "I don't expect forgiveness. Just… a truce."
A long silence.
Yeri stood. "We'll see."
---
That night, Yunjun brought her tea and sat beside her in bed. The room was dimly lit and quiet.
She sipped slowly.
"I talked to Soojin," she said.
He raised a brow. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Strangely."
"She's trying," he said. "In her own twisted way."
Yeri smiled faintly. "We're all a little twisted now."
He looked at her, really looked. "Can I ask you something?"
She nodded.
"Do you ever think… we're too broken for peace?"
She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Sometimes. But then I remember… broken things can still bloom."
---
Later, as the city slept, Yeri tiptoed to the rooftop.
The wind was colder up there. She wrapped herself in Yunjun's coat and stared at the stars.
A few months ago, she would've given anything just to feel safe.
Now she had safety.
But healing was slower than survival.
And scars didn't vanish when danger did.
Still…
She was here.
She was alive.
And for the first time in a long time, she believed that maybe, just maybe, she could be whole again.
To be continued....
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