Han Soyeon’s POV
A slender neck, fragile enough to snap with a twist.
"Gah... Gack..."
"Who’s that girl calling you ’nuna’? Are you that close? Since when have you been eting her? Did you know her before? Behind my back? Answer , Yuseong. Answer now, because I’m losing my mind."
Only I should be your "nuna."
You said I was family.
No one else deserves that title.
"It’s not... that kind of ’nuna’... Gack... Please, just let go..." Yuseong choked, his voice quivering under my grip.
"Not that kind? What’s that supposed to an? You told I was family, and now you’re tossing that word around with so other girl? Were you just playing with ?"
My rationality had burned away, leaving only a seething rage coursing through .
"You never even called family—" Yuseong began.
Crack!
The grass near his feet shredded under the weight of my unleashed killing intent.
"...What did you just say?"
I tilted my head, as if I’d misheard sothing unthinkable.
"I’m too worked up to hear clearly. What did you say?"
Gulp.
His throat twitched beneath my loosening fingers. In his obsidian eyes, I saw my reflection—cold, hollow, lifeless.
A mont later, his lips parted. "...You’re the only family I have, nuna."
"That’s right, isn’t it? My Yuseong’s a good boy." I ruffled his hair with one hand, the other lingering on his neck. "Such a good boy."
Relief flickered across his face, but I wasn’t finished.
"So, who was that girl?"
"Hic!"
Tears welled in his eyes as my killing intent surged again.
"T-The... the g—"
"The what?"
"...That bitch..."
It was the first ti I’d heard a curse from Yuseong’s lips. And I loved it.
"That’s right. That’s how you should call her. Listen, Yuseong. Every girl except ? They’re all bitches. Got it?"
"..."
"No answer?"
"Y-Yes!" he yelped.
"Good. Keep going. Why was that bitch there?"
"I-I was waiting for you, nuna... and she ca up out of nowhere... asked who I was waiting for. I said I was waiting for you because you help train... and she said she’d help instead..."
"Oh... I see. She approached you first, huh?"
I stroked his hair, a smile curling my lips. "You didn’t do anything wrong, Yuseong. I just misunderstood, didn’t I?"
"Y-Yeah... I didn’t do anything wr—"
"Nothing wrong, huh?"
Crunch.
"Guh!"
I tightened my grip, pulling his face close, our breaths intertwining. His pained expression twisted before .
"When that happens, you say you have soone and brush her off. Why’d you just stand there and take it?"
"Gack... Gah..."
"What’s with that wronged look? You think I’m being unfair?"
"N-No... I... I ssed up..."
"What did you ss up?"
"I... I shouldn’t have... laughed with that bitch while ignoring you..."
"That’s right. You ssed up, didn’t you? Not being unreasonable, right?"
"Y-Yes... Hic... It’s all... my fault..."
Yuseong curled into himself, trembling like a frightened rabbit.
"Exactly. And since you ssed up, you need to be punished, don’t you?"
"P-Punished?"
"When soone screws up, they get punished. That’s how Huashan works, isn’t it?"
"Sob... Hic..."
Grip.
I seized his cheeks, squeezing them. "If you answer with tears again, I’ll shut that mouth and do whatever I want."
Tremble tremble tremble.
Fear deepened in his eyes, but he forced his lips open. "I-I get it... I’ll take the punishnt... Just... ease up a little..."
"You’re still misunderstanding sothing."
I cranked my killing intent higher.
"I’m not negotiating with you."
"Urk... Ugh..."
His face teetered on the edge of tears. I softened my expression, smiling as I patted his head.
"It’s fine. It won’t hurt. It won’t even be scary. You might like it. You’re a guy—you can handle that much, right?"
"Y-Yes... Hic... I can handle it..."
"Good boy."
He’d learned, giving the answers I wanted. He didn’t fully grasp what was coming—just saying what he thought would calm .
So... what ca next was simple.
"Strip."
"...Huh?"
"Talking back?"
"I-I’ll strip!"
This perfect body was mine to claim. No, "claim" wasn’t right. Yuseong and I loved each other. This was mutual affection—not so depraved sin driven by lust.
Yuseong fumbled with his clothes, stripping in a panic. His hesitation gave way to haste, betraying his inexperience.
Rustle.
The fabric fell away, revealing pale, soft, delicate skin. Despite his training, not a trace of muscle. Even after all these years, his fra remained unchanged.
Gulp.
I snapped out of it, saliva pooling in my mouth.
"I-I’m done..."
"Everything. Underwear too."
"Huh...?"
Realization hit him—sothing was wrong.
Step back.
He stumbled backward. The next steps were obvious.
Dash.
Running.
Even a rabbit freezes before a predator, awaiting death. He was a step above that. Not that it mattered.
Grab.
"Yuseong... You shouldn’t run..."
"Let go! Let go! What are you trying to do?!"
Gone was his polite speech—just raw, terrified screams. Hadn’t I once hated seeing him in pain?
No.
Ahhh...
His agonized face, his trembling body—it was the most breathtaking sight I’d ever seen, more stunning than the sunset I’d watched with Master.
"Yuseong... Yuseong... Yuseong... Yuseong..."
I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.
How could I make him understand?
I wanted to wake to his voice every morning, quench my thirst with his essence, hold his image in my eyes all day.
"Let go!!"
Why was he running? He’d said he was fine with it. Was he just scared because it was his first ti? It couldn’t be that he hated .
Today was special, so I’d forgive so resistance. Struggle all you want.
"Sobody! Help! Anyone...!"
Crunch.
"Oh, that’s a problem."
Running was fine, but calling for help? That was cheating.
"Mmph!! Mmmph!!!"
I clamped his mouth shut, my other hand tearing at the remaining cloth. The sound of ripping fabric mingled with his muffled screams—a lody surpassing any music I’d heard.
"Hmm~ Hmmm~"
I humd along, joining the symphony. As the last shred of cloth hung by a thread—
"...Who’s there?"
Flinch!
A voice cut through. One I knew.
Why now, of all tis?!
It was Master’s junior, a man we’d often greeted together. A junior to Master, but in Huashan’s hierarchy, he was just below the elders. His skill far outstripped mine. I stood no chance.
What do I do?
He’d heard us—sensed our presence. Running was futile.
"Mmph!! Mmmph!!!"
Pretending this was a secret tryst between disciples? Impossible in this state.
"...Soyeon, is that you? What are you doing here...?"
Escape was futile. I acted fast.
Rip!
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