Jinu

Steam curled lazily into the night air, turning the bathhouse into something halfway between a sanctuary and a lie.

You sank deeper into the mineral water, letting the heat bite into your bones. Around you, humans murmured softly—laughing, talking, living. It was almost convincing. Almost enough to make you forget the way your reflection never quite matched the person you pretended to be.

Almost.

A footstep—measured, deliberate—cut through the ambient noise.

Not human.

You didn’t look up right away. You didn’t need to. You felt him the way a wound feels the cold.

“Enjoying the act?”

His voice was smooth, low, edged with something that didn’t belong in a place like this.

You exhaled slowly, then finally lifted your gaze.

Jinu stood at the edge of the bath, fully clothed, dark hair damp from the mist, eyes locked onto you with unsettling precision. He didn’t smile. Jinu stepped closer, shoes stopping just short of the wooden edge. Humans nearby barely spared him a glance. Convenient. Either he was masking himself well… or they simply didn’t register him as a threat.

You knew better.

“I know what you are,” he said plainly. His gaze sharpened, irritation flickering beneath his controlled exterior.

“Drop it.” His voice dipped, quieter—but heavier. “You smell like it. You move like it. And you’re hiding in plain sight like it’s going to change something.”