Scarlet Between Us

“Hey, bitch,” she drawled. “You lied. You said you killed him.”

Her eyes dropped to where Cha Eun‑ha’s hand was threaded through my arm.

“And yet,” she added, “he’s out here, holding hands.”

Ah, fuck.

She must be the Black Sun’s master? I have no idea what kind of relation Si-Woo had with her. She looks like a ticking bomb.

Eun‑ha’s fingers tightened on my arm once, then uncurled.

She stepped forward, putting herself between us. Just enough that I had her shoulder and the edge of her jaw in my view, not

Yeonhwa’s full stare.

“Yeonhwa,” she said.

Her voice didn’t rise. It went quiet.

“Cha Eun‑ha,” Yeonhwa replied. “You have rather interesting hobbies. Creating fake death reports. Kidnapping subordinates. Taking them on walks like pets.”

The air around was suffocating.

Heat coiled tight around Eun‑ha, not flaring outward yet. At her feet, the scorch marks from old battles, perhaps.

At Yeonhwa’s boots, the shadows didn’t stretch away like they should under the streetlights.

They bunched up, clung to her soles, crawled higher along the hem of her coat.

Her ability is related to shadow manipulation, then?

“You have two seconds,” Eun‑ha said. “Leave.”

“I gave him years,” Yeonhwa said. “You gave him a basement and chains. I think I’m owed at least a conversation.”

Her gaze slid back to me.

“You belong to me first,” she said. “I won’t let you dress in her colours and play house with her.”

WHAT? Why does every woman want a piece of Si-woo?

“Si‑woo.” Eun‑ha didn’t look back. “Don’t answer her.”

Yeonhwa’s lips curved.

“Are you training him?” she laughed. “Hahaha, Sit. Stay. Don’t speak unless Master says?”

“He’s Red Dragon,” Eun‑ha said. “If you touch him, I’ll burn you to ash.”

“He was mine before he ever met you,” Yeonhwa shot back. “Slum. Alley. Monster blood up to our knees. Where were you then?”

“Even after all that he left you, didn’t he?” Eun‑ha said.

“Ah.” Yeonhwa laughed, short. “Is that what you think?”

Their mana pushed against my skin from both sides, ready to kill each other.

Hold on. Maybe, it's perfect.

If they tore each other apart over me, wasn't that ideal? Go on, girls. Fight!

“You turned him into a pet,” Yeonhwa said. “Do you even hear yourself? ‘Don’t talk. Don’t move. Don’t breathe unless I sign the form.’”

“At least I kept him breathing,” Eun‑ha said. “You drag everything you touch back into the gutter.”

“You worked him until he broke,” Yeonhwa snapped. “Then when he finally crawled to me, you stamped traitor on his back.”

“Better traitor than lab rat,” Eun‑ha shot back.

“Lab” landed heavily between them.

So that’s another landmine.

The ground under my feet vibrated.

“Walk away,” Eun‑ha said again.

“No,” Yeonhwa said. “Give him back.”

They were done talking.

The air twisted.

Flame burst from around Eun‑ha’s fists in a rush, swirling up her arms in coils. The heat pressed against my face from behind her, trying to force sweat out of my skin.

At the same time, the darkness at Yeonhwa’s feet shot upward like spears, long and thin, carving through the asphalt without resistance.

They launched in the same breath.

Fire screamed across the street.

Shadows stabbed back to meet it.

They didn’t care about what happened to the rest of the world.

The car alarm started wailing. Somewhere else, someone screamed.

I dug my fingers into the pavement and pushed myself upright. My ribs complained.

The street between the two women was a crater of broken concrete, boiled tar and floating embers.

Eun‑ha walked through her own fire like it was air. Flames clung to her like armour, dragon‑scale patterns crawling over her shoulders.

Yeonhwa slipped in and out of her own shadows. Sometimes she was to the left, sometimes a little behind where a normal person’s eyes would track.

The darkness swallowed parts of her, then spat her back out a few metres away.

“You don’t own him!” Yeonhwa shouted. “He’s not your toy, Cha Eun‑ha!”

“He’s mine,” Eun‑ha shouted back. “You don’t get to say his name after what you did!”

“What I did?” Yeonhwa laughed, too loud. “After how you treated him for years? I dug through corpses looking for one that looked like him!”

Three metres to my right, a narrow alley opened between buildings. Cluttered with bins, a fallen sign, scattered bottles.
Still: exit.

They were busy trying to out‑scream each other over who loved me more.

Neither had eyes on me.

Good.

It was the perfect time to bail.

I braced a hand on the dented car and started limping toward the alley. Not running. Just a brisk, “I was never here” walk.

If I can get out of line of sight, I can—

A familiar blue panel slid into view right in front of my nose.

[SYSTEM NOTICE]
[HI, HOST. LONG TIME NO SEE (´▽`)]

My eye twitched.

This fucking bastard.

I had a lot to say, but this wasn’t the time.

Something groaned overhead.

I glanced up.

The top corner of the building beside me, already cracked from the earlier blast, sheared off like a rotten tooth.

“Oh, fu—”

The chunk of concrete slammed into the pavement right where my next step would’ve been, exploding into dust and shards.

I stumbled back, coughing, half‑blind.

So much for the alley. I had to thank a certain Cosmic Devil.

Back to zero, the shouting was still going on.

Flame coiled tighter around Eun‑ha’s right arm, from shoulder to knuckles. It wasn’t wild now.

The air around her fist shimmered.

Her eyes were locked on Yeonhwa.

“Step away from him,” she said. “Or I will rip your heart out.”

“You’ll have to burn through him to reach me,” Yeonhwa called back, grinning. “Can you do it?”

She stood just off to my left. From their end, it probably looked like I’d edged closer to her.

From mine, the line between Eun‑ha’s arm and Yeonhwa’s chest ran right through my body.

“Don’t move,” Eun‑ha barked. “Si‑woo, stay there.”

“Yeah,” I thought. “I don’t want to turn into roasted chicken”

Shadows gathered around Yeonhwa’s legs, bunching like muscles. A dark shield formed next to her, rough‑edged and taller than she was.

They kept going on.

“You chained him in your basement and call that ‘keeping him safe,’” she shouted. “You don’t deserve his back, let alone his life.”

“You sold kids for parts,” Eun‑ha snapped. “Don’t talk about what anyone deserves.”

“Those kids didn’t matter to you,” Yeonhwa said. “He did.”

The heat went from “too much” to “this is how ovens feel.”

Eun‑ha drew her arm back.

She looked at Yeonhwa.

Then at me.

Just for a second.

“…Don’t move,” she repeated. Softer. Like a prayer she was trying to make into reality.

She thrust her arm forward.

The dragon roared out.

It wasn’t a metaphor. Flame shaped like a dragon’s head tore across the ruined street, jaws open, fangs of fire bared. Its whole being was focused on tearing through the shadow wall and the woman behind it.

From where I stood, it was also going to tear through me.

My body flinched sideways on its own.

To me, it looked like “get out of the way.”

To anyone watching, it probably looked like I’d thrown myself into the line between Yeonhwa and the dragon.

“Si‑woo!” Eun‑ha’s voice broke.

The dragon’s eyes snapped toward me.

Her hand jerked. The arc of the flame twisted, trying to pull away from my chest.

Flame doesn’t like to change direction once it’s committed.

The dragon’s path bent, but not fast enough.

For half a heartbeat, I stood at the crossing point.

To Eun‑ha, it must have looked like this:

I saw her attack.
I saw Yeonhwa behind me.
I stepped in front of it.
To save her.

“No,” she said. Not a shout. A crack.

The fire sheared off the centre, scraping past my side instead of punching straight through my sternum. Even so, the edge of that power kissed my ribs.

Pain screamed down my left flank. The coat smoked.

I staggered.

The dragon’s head, robbed of its clean line, lurched. It smashed past my shoulder toward the ground instead of Yeonhwa’s chest.

For the first time, I saw fear in Eun‑ha’s face.

Not of Yeonhwa.

Of me.

Of what she thought I’d just done.

“Why? What are you doing?” she shouted. “Why are you—”

“That’s my line,” Yeonhwa cut in.

She was already moving.

While Eun‑ha was still trying to rein in her own flames, while the dragon’s path wobbled, while I stumbled from the near‑miss, Yeonhwa stepped.

Shadows flared under her boots. The dark shield surged forward, taking the brunt of what was left of the blast. It screamed, edges burning away, but it held for a breath.

She appeared in front of me.

“Always doing something that makes my heart stop,” she said.

"Right?"

I had no idea what she was talking about.

Then her hand snapped out, not to punch, but to grab.

Fingers hooked into the front of my borrowed coat, right by the charm at my collar.

Cold rushed up from the ground.

Shadows climbed my legs, my spine, my throat. It felt like being shoved into deep water without the courtesy of getting wet.

Behind her, I heard Eun‑ha lose the rest of her control.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Heat exploded outward.

Fire surged in a ring, a desperate, furious blast that would have roasted anything still on the street.