Then,
Clap. Clap.
"Well. This is... cozy."
Rina's voice cut through the moment like a blade.
Ling turned sharply. "What do you want."
Rina leaned against the tent pole, arms crossed, grin wicked. "Relax, Captain Control. I was just checking if you're alive. Didn't expect to find you hovering."
Rhea scoffed instantly, jerking back. "Don't flatter yourself. He was being annoying."
Ling stepped back at the same time, jaw tight. "Nothing happened."
Rina raised an eyebrow. "Of course not."
She tilted her head, eyes flicking between them. "Let me guess... accidental closeness, mutual denial, dramatic silence?"
Rhea snapped, "You're imagining things."
Ling added coldly, "Get out, Rina."
Rina laughed, completely unbothered. "Wow. Both of you denying in perfect sync. Impressive."
She stepped closer, voice dropping into something teasing, but sharp. "You know what's funny? One day you'll both fu*k each other and still deny it."
Ling's glare could've frozen fire. "Watch your mouth."
Rina smirked. "Or what? You'll deny harder?"
Rhea stood abruptly. "This conversation is ridiculous."
"Sure," Rina said lightly. "Keep telling yourselves that. While everyone else is f*king rotting my brain because of you both."
Then she turned to leave, then tossed one last glance over her shoulder. "Just saying... people who spend this much energy insisting there's nothing going on... usually mean the opposite."
The tent flap fell shut.
Silence rushed back in.
Ling and Rhea stood there, not looking at each other now, both rigid, both breathing a little too fast.
Ling broke it first, voice flat. "She talks too much."
Rhea folded her arms. "You let her."
Ling said nothing and got back to his work, crazy right?? but it's kwong.
His fingers still for a fraction of a second after the bandage is secured.
He leaned back, jaw clenched, eyes deliberately cold again, as if nothing intimate just happened with his mouth at Rhea's skin, as if his hands didn't memorize the curve of her waist.
"Done," Ling said flatly.
Rhea didn't thank him.
She didn't even flinch.
She hopped down from the cot like her body wasn't buzzing, like her breath hadn't almost fractured minutes ago. Her face was perfectly composed, chin lifted, lips neutral, eyes sharp.
"Overreacted," Rhea said, brushing invisible dust from her shorts. "It was nothing."
Ling's mouth curved, not a smile. A warning.
"Nothing bleeds that much."
Rhea's eyes flashed. "You enjoy control too much."
Ling stepped closer once. Just once. "So did you. You just pretended it was pride."
Silence snapped between them.
Rhea didn't look at Ling again. She turned and walked out.
Her back was straight. Her steps were steady.
Only when she was far enough, past the trees, past the noise of students, past the place where Ling's presence stopped pressing on her lungs, did her control finally crack.
She ducked behind a supply tent.
Her hands shook first.
Then her breath stuttered.
Her shoulders trembled, but no sob escaped, just silent, violent breaths tearing through her chest.
Kane's voice rose uninvited: Victor's blood ran in her. You are not allowed to be weak. You would destroy him, or I would destroy you.
Tears spilled anyway.
Hot. Furious. Humiliating.
She hated herself for them.
Hated that Ling Kwong's touch had felt safer than anyone else's ever had. Hated that her body had leaned in when her mind screamed don't. Hated that revenge suddenly felt like standing on a cliff with no ground left behind her.
Kane's voice echoed in her head again. I'll break you before him.
Rhea dug her nails into her palm until it hurt enough to anchor her.
"I'm not weak," she whispered to no one.
But her chest ached like a lie.
Then a call came.
Rhea's phone vibrated, the screen lighting up.
Shyra.
Rhea stared at the name for a full three seconds before answering. She wiped her face hard with the back of her hand, dragged in a breath, and schooled her voice into something passable.
"Hey."
There was a pause on the other end.
Not long, but long enough.
"How is the trip?" Shyra asked lightly. Too lightly.
Rhea pressed the phone closer to her ear, turning her face toward the canvas wall so no one passing could see her expression. "Fine. Loud. Dirty. Typical university nonsense."
Another pause.
Shyra heard it.
The way Rhea's words were steady but her breathing wasn't. The way her voice sounded stretched thin, like silk pulled too tight.
"You sound tired," Shyra said gently.
Rhea swallowed. "Long day."
In the background, Kane's voice cut in, sharp, impatient. "Ask her if she's enjoying herself."
Rhea heard it.
Her fingers curled around the phone.
Shyra exhaled softly, then raised her voice just enough. "Mom wanted to know if you're enjoying the trip."
Rhea closed her eyes.
This was the dangerous part.
"Yeah," she said, forcing a careless laugh that scraped her throat raw. "I'm enjoying it."
Silence.
Not from Kane.
From Shyra.
Shyra looked at Kane, who was watching her closely, reading her face like a battlefield map.
"She says she's enjoying it," Shyra told Kane calmly.
Kane nodded once, satisfied. "Good. Tell her to remember why she's there."
The line clicked dead on Kane's end.
Shyra didn't hang up.
Instead, she walked away from Kane, into the quiet of the corridor, and lowered her voice.
"Rhea."
That one word almost undid her.
Rhea turned her face, biting her lip hard to stop the sound that tried to escape her chest. "What?"
"You're crying," Shyra said softly. Not accusing. Just knowing.
Rhea squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm not."
"Rhea."
The way Shyra said her name, slow, aching, protective, cracked something fragile.
"I'm fine," Rhea whispered. "I just... I hate this place."
Shyra sat down on the edge of the bed back home, phone pressed to her ear, heart heavy. "Did someone hurt you?"
Rhea thought of Ling's hands, careful, warm.
Of his voice, low, furious, protective.
Of how safe that terrified her.
"No," Rhea said quickly. "No one hurt me."
Shyra knew better than to push.
"Listen to me," she said quietly. "Whatever Mom is planning... you don't have to bleed for it."
Rhea's throat tightened. "You don't understand."
"I understand more than you think," Shyra replied. "And I understand that you don't cry for nothing."
Rhea pressed her knuckles to her mouth.
"I'm okay," she repeated, but now it sounded like a plea. "Please don't worry. Don't tell her anything."
"I won't," Shyra promised. Then, softer, "But Rhea... if someone makes you feel safe and scared at the same time..."
"Don't," Rhea cut in sharply.
Shyra fell silent.
After a moment, she only said, "Call me if it gets worse."
Rhea nodded even though Shyra couldn't see it. "Okay."
The call ended.
Rhea lowered the phone slowly, her hand trembling now that she was alone again.
Outside the tent, the camp buzzed with laughter and movement.
And somewhere beyond the firelight, Ling Kwong sat astride his bike, staring into the dark jungle like it might give him answers he refused to ask.
Both of them breathing.
Both of them breaking.
And Kane Noir, miles away, smiling, completely unaware that the weapon she forged was starting to turn inward.