The next day…
Missy stepped out of her room, already dressed neatly.
A small smile formed as the familiar scent of Raven's cooking reached her.
Warm. Quiet. Grounding.
For a moment… everything felt normal again.
They had breakfast like usual.
Simple conversation. Light. Easy.
As if nothing had happened the night before.
And somehow… Missy didn't bring it up.
Maybe because she didn't know how.
Or maybe… she wasn't ready to hear the answer.
The shop opened.
Time moved as it always did—steady, predictable.
Missy kept herself busy, organizing items, checking orders, handling small tasks that filled the silence between customers.
Raven remained behind the counter, focused, composed.
Untouchable.
"Will you… be going out again today?" Missy asked softly, standing beside him.
His hand paused on the mouse.
"No."
Short.
Simple.
Missy nodded.
Strangely… relief settled in her chest.
"I didn't even hear you come back last night," she added, a little awkward.
A pause.
"If… next time you go out, or stay out overnight… could you tell me?" she continued, words tumbling out faster than she intended.
"I mean—it's not a demand. Only if you want to. So I'll know… in case there's a call for you, or something urgent, or—"
She stopped herself.
Realizing she was rambling.
Raven turned to face her fully.
His gaze steady.
"I'll tell you."
That was all.
But it was enough.
"Thank you," Missy smiled softly.
"It's not that I'm scared… I just feel a little…"
She hesitated.
Lonely.
Restless.
Words she swallowed instead.
"…strange," she finished quietly.
"So you'll know," Raven repeated.
Missy nodded.
And for some reason…
That was enough to make her feel at ease.
That night…
Missy walked at an easy pace, a small box of pastries resting in her hands.
A soft hum slipped from her lips as the streets grew livelier, glowing with early Christmas lights.
Winter had brought so many unexpected things into her life… and yet, somehow, she still found herself smiling at the warmth of the old town welcoming the season.
"Right… the holidays," she murmured.
"I wonder if Raven would let me go home…"
She tightened her gloves—
Then paused.
Just for a second… she caught sight of a familiar figure in the crowd.
That's… him, right?
Missy quickened her steps.
Even among so many people, she could recognize him instantly.
That scarf.
She lifted her hand, about to call out—
But he was moving.
Fast.
Too fast.
Without realizing it, she followed.
He stepped out of the crowd, heading toward a quieter street where the shops had begun to close.
Missy smiled faintly.
Maybe she could surprise him.
Something simple.
Something… normal.
He turned into the alley near the shop.
Then—
She heard it.
A voice.
Shaking. Hoarse.
"Please…"
Missy froze.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
She knew she shouldn't—
But her feet moved anyway.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Until—
She saw them.
Two men.
On their knees.
Begging. Crying. Trembling.
In front of him.
Raven.
Missy's chest tightened painfully.
She recognized them.
Those voices—
Her bag slipped from her hand, hitting the ground with a dull thud.
"Please… forgive us… please…"
They sobbed, desperate—too desperate to notice her.
"W-we didn't know… we regret it…"
Missy couldn't move.
Not forward.
Not back.
"Oh… you knew."
Raven's voice cut through the air.
Cold.
Flat.
Unfeeling.
Then—
He moved.
Just once.
A simple motion.
As if cutting through empty space.
But—
Something followed.
A shadow.
The faint silhouette of a blade slicing through the dark—
Through them.
And—
They collapsed.
Still.
Silent.
Just like that.
As if it meant nothing.
Missy's breath caught.
Her vision blurred.
Raven stood there.
Watching.
Calm.
Unmoved.
Then he turned—
And saw her.
Missy staggered back.
"T–they…" her voice trembled.
"Received their punishment."
Calm.
Too calm.
"A–are they… Raven?"
Her thoughts refused to form.
Her body shook.
"You shouldn't be here."
His voice remained steady.
Too steady.
And for the first time—
Missy saw it.
That coldness.
Sharp.
Unavoidable.
The part of him that didn't belong to the world she knew.
Raven—
The man who cooked for her…
Who spoke softly…
Who gave her a place to stay—
Now stood before her like someone else entirely.
Missy took another step back.
Her heart pounded violently.
She couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Then—
She turned.
And ran.
She didn't know where.
Didn't know why.
Only that she had to get away.
From what she had just seen.
From him.
Raven didn't follow.
He simply stood there.
Watching her leave.
Silent.
Still.
As if… he had already known this would happen.
Missy just ran.
And ran.
She didn't know how her feet carried her—only that she needed to get away.
Away from that alley.
Away from that sight.
Away from him.
The cold air cut against her skin as she pushed through the streets, her breath uneven, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
Too loud.
Too fast.
By the time she reached the shop, her hands were shaking.
She fumbled with the door, nearly missing the handle before finally forcing it open. The familiar space welcomed her—but it didn't feel the same.
Not anymore.
She rushed inside, locked the door behind her, then walked quickly—almost blindly—toward her room.
The moment she stepped in, she shut the door.
Then leaned against it.
Her breath broke.
"…what was that…?" she whispered.
Her legs gave out, and she slid down slowly, sitting on the floor.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her face, trying to steady herself.
She had seen it.
Not a story.
Not a guess.
Not something hidden behind shadows.
She had seen it.
Raven—
Standing there. Calm. Cold. Unmoved.
Taking lives as if it was nothing more than… a task.
Missy's fingers curled against her sleeves.
"I… I should be scared…" she murmured.
And she was.
God, she was.
Her body still hadn't stopped shaking.
But then—
Something else crept in.
Something quieter.
Something she didn't want to admit.
"…they were the ones who hurt me…"
Her breath faltered.
The memory—being dragged, the knife, the fear—
It flickered across her mind.
And then—
Gone.
Just like that.
Erased.
Missy swallowed hard.
Her grip tightened.
"That's… over now…"
The words felt strange on her tongue.
Heavy.
Wrong.
Relieving.
Her eyes closed tightly.
"I shouldn't feel relieved…"
But she did.
And that frightened her even more.
A tear slipped down, unnoticed.
"I shouldn't…"
Her voice broke softly.
Silence filled the room again.
Thick.
Unsteady.
And then—
A soft knock.
Missy froze.
Her breath caught instantly.
"…Hart."
Raven's voice.
Low.
Calm.
Right behind the door.
Missy didn't answer.
Couldn't.
She stared at the floor, her fingers slowly curling tighter into the fabric of her sleeves.
Another pause.
Then—
"…are you hurt?"
Still that same tone.
Steady.
As if nothing had happened.
As if everything had.
Missy's throat tightened.
She wanted to answer.
But the image—him standing there, unmoved—flashed again in her mind.
Her lips parted slightly.
No sound came out.
Outside, Raven stood in silence.
His hand hovered for a moment near the door.
Not knocking again.
Not forcing it open.
Just… standing there.
Waiting.
"…get some rest," he said finally, quieter this time.
A pause.
Then his footsteps retreated.
Slow.
Measured.
Until there was nothing left but silence again.
Inside the room, Missy remained still.
Her heart still hadn't settled.
And for the first time—
She didn't know which was more terrifying.
The man she had just seen…
Or the fact that a part of her still felt safe when he called her name.
She didn't remember when she finally moved to the bed.
Or when her body gave in.
Only that her thoughts refused to quiet… even as sleep took her.
It was restless.
Her fingers clenched tightly around the blanket.
Her head shifted slightly from side to side.
Her brows furrowed.
As she slipped into fragments of something…
A dream.
She was standing there…
In the middle of a battle, on a vast open field.
She saw countless soldiers.
Clad in armor.
They were ancient knights.
They shouted.
Two sides—one bearing red banners, the other gold.
The clash of swords rang everywhere.
"Aah!"
Missy instinctively ducked in fear as two soldiers swung their blades at her.
But then she straightened again.
They passed right through her.
Like she wasn't there at all.
Like a spectator watching a historical scene unfold before her eyes.
Missy looked around.
"Your Highness! We must retreat!" a soldier shouted at a man on horseback who was busy cutting down his enemies.
"Never! Hyaah!" he roared.
He surged forward instead, pressing the red-bannered soldiers back.
And when the knight leapt, Missy's chest tightened painfully.
That…
That…
It was the same…
The same blade…
The same silhouette that had cut down the two men who had kidnapped her.
"No!"
Missy gasped and jolted awake.
She swallowed.
Her breath came unevenly.
Her body was drenched in sweat.
"Oh God… what was that dream…" she murmured, exhausted.
She wiped her forehead.
Slowly, she got out of bed.
She felt incredibly thirsty.
Whether she liked it or not, she had to step out of her room for a moment.
After peeking outside briefly, she walked quietly, as if trying not to make a sound.
She opened the refrigerator and took a bottle of cold water.
Not wanting to stay there any longer, she grabbed a glass and turned to head back to her room.
Then…
She froze.
On the dining table—
The bag she had left in the alley… was now there.
Placed neatly beside the box of pastries.
She swallowed.
Her grip tightened around the glass as she instinctively glanced toward Raven's closed bedroom door.
Then she quickly walked back to her room, closing the door as softly as possible.
Without Missy knowing—
Raven was standing inside his room, behind the curtain, hidden in the darkness.
Watching her.
Until she disappeared back into her room.
His gaze… unreadable.
***