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When she turned around, his heart thudded in his chest.
Judging from the dead soul-shifter that had already concretised at the back, and the way she could now wield her sword in her hands, it was really her, it was really Naksu, who had come back.
But she had come for him. His Mudeok, the one he knew, was still in her.
She had to make a decision now.
“You are still alive… my pupil.” She said, voice flat and hard, masking whatever that was behind she did not want him to see. But he could see it, she knew that too.
“Why did you hide it?” He put it forward, straight to the point.
She would hate him. She would hate him, for luring her into coming into the room to kill that soul-shifter, for pushing her to reveal herself, for making her face it all - the truth, her feelings. She would hate him for making her choose to decide, because for all the altruistic reasons there were, he knew that none of them mattered more than what he was to her. And it boiled down to giving up everything she was living for to avenge her father, and him.
Forgive me, Mudeok-ah, I have to do this.
“Because…” She looked away, not willing to look at him. “I wanted you to die.”
“But why did you come for me?”
Something in her stoic composure was shaken, as if the thought of him dying she could not bear, just like how her family had been taken away from her, he would be taken away from her too, by a monster, just like how she thought she was one now. She drew in a shaky breath, swallowing.
“Because… I thought you would die.”
Her admittance was short-lived relief. She still had to make her decision, a decision that he would have to help her make.
“Since you’ve unsheathed your sword, make your decision.” He said, ignoring the lump in his throat.
He strode across the chamber. “I know that you’ve been avoiding me. I also know that everyone’s lives are in your hands.” He stopped right in front of her, where he could see now, her, just her, all her. “Like you promised, point your sword at me.”
She did, raising her sword, pointing it at his chest. He drew in a breath almost sharply, an instinctive response, but he controlled himself from recoiling away. He would take responsibility, for himself and for her, for hiding, protecting and releasing a soul-shifter, the assassin, even if letting her go broke his heart.
He would take full responsibility with his life, and it was her decision after all, he had only set himself up for it, he convinced himself. If this was the last time he would be seeing her, he still hoped that he was able to convey an unspoken apology to her in his eyes, one that she would understand.
Yet, somewhere deep in his heart, there was a little yearning, a little plea, one that he thought would be too selfish to show its true extent and had suppressed because the thought of forcibly hindering her freedom seemed too cynical. He would never take her cause and her purpose for vengeance from her, she never deserved that.
But there was still a little voice, afraid and pleading.
Please don’t leave me, Mudeok-ah.
Please don’t let this be the end of us.
Then she lowered her sword, hand falling to her sides weakly.
His heart stopped.
“Fine.” It wasn’t acquiescence, or defeat, but her surrender to her fight.
But when she looked at him again, her eyes were firm, her voice vehement, decided. “Make me another promise, just like you said you would.”
It was only fitting, that he reciprocated the fervour she had shown, so when words failed to describe the intensity of the emotions that swells in him, and the intensity of his promise, his oath to her, his lips found hers. I promise you . She gave in, parting her lips to meet his helplessly. He poured whatever emotions he had into this. I promise you. His hand moved to cradle the back of her head, angling her, marvelling at how well they fit, and he became even more sure that this was right. It felt right. Their lips moved slowly but steadily, both of them drowning in each other as he relished in the feeling of her scent, her touch. And in that moment, the world swirled to a stop, stabilising to a focal point. Her hands encircled his waist hesitant at first, but then pulled them closer with surety.
The kisses grew more desperate when he let loose the insecurity and fear he had been feeling earlier, and she reassured him, pressing into him deeply such that he could feel and hear their hearts aligning. Something devastating and hot erupted in him when their bodies made contact and he became hyperaware and consumed this warmth. He was almost regretful when they pulled away to breathe.
Later, when they cooled down and their heartbeats were in sync again, he told her, “I have so many plans.”
“Tell me all about them.” She smiled.