Im'the son of the Villainess's at the Academy

The silence between them had shifted—less tense, but no less fragile.

Rena stood there, her golden eyes puffy from crying, lashes still damp, and her fiery hair a little tousled, wild from the storm of emotion she had just released. Her breath came softer now, her hands clutching each other in front of her as if trying to hold herself together.

Jin glanced at her again. His shirt was soaked where she had cried into him, but he didn't care. He didn't even look down. It was a trivial detail. An inconvenience at most.

His red, scarlet eyes glimmered softly—not with warmth, but with a quiet calm. The kind of stillness born of discipline, of countless years of training himself to feel less, to feel nothing.

He looked at her with a faint, polite smile, as if she hadn't just broken down in front of him. As if her pain hadn't soaked into the fabric between them. His voice, when it came, was gentle and measured—eerily so.

"Rena," he said, "I already told you. I won't interfere in the competition between House Amberhart and the Frosts. That is your family's affair."

His words, though kind in tone, were distant. Deliberately removed.

Rena nodded slowly, still trying to gather the fragments of herself. "Yes," she said quietly, "I understand."

Jin's expression didn't change. "Good. I will help you become stronger. That, I can promise you." He stepped back just slightly, folding his arms. "But House Rotschy will not involve itself in this matter. We have no interest in conflicts that are not our own. My mother, Naoko, made that perfectly clear to your mother, I'm sure."

Rina bit her lip, her fingers curling tighter.

He continued, voice steady, uncaring of how it might sound. "We have no reason to get involved. No gain. No motive. We watch. Nothing more. That's how we've survived for centuries. The world outside is nothing but chaos, Rina—and chaos is beneath us."

He turned his gaze toward the tall, The street her, as if he were speaking not just to her, but to something far beyond the garden "We have wealth, influence, power. There is nothing we *need* from the world. So we remain apart from it. My mother and I live in this palace. We rarely leave. And when she does leave… it's only ever when she chooses to."

He paused, then tilted his head toward her.

"I assume you noticed the barrier surrounding our estate."

Rena blinked, surprised. "Yes… it was strange. I felt like we crossed into a completely different space."

Jin nodded. "Exactly. That barrier keeps out everything. Not just people. Animals. Birds. Even insects. Nothing enters this domain unless we allow it. This is the law of House Rotschy. We allow no intrusion."

Rena felt a chill run down her spine—not from fear, but from the cold, clean precision of his voice. Like it had been carved in ice.

"You are part of our house now," he said calmly. "But you are still an Amberhart. You are their heir. Their future leader."

He stepped forward slightly, looking into her eyes.

"And that… is your responsibility."

She inhaled sharply, lips trembling just a little.

"My family will never interfere in internal affairs of another house," he said. "Not even for you. Not even if you ask. Because . Your obligations to House Amberhart are yours alone. Not mine. Not my mother's. Do you understand?"

Rena nodded, but her throat felt dry. "I… I understand."

But her mind screamed.

Her thoughts twisted.

He was right—she knew that. But hearing it like this, so plainly, so coldly, so devoid of emotion—it unsettled her.

Was this what it meant to marry into the Rotschy family?

To stand beside a man who listened to your tears and held no opinion?

To be watched… and never touched?

But even through the coldness, even through the dissonance of their connection, she couldn't deny the strange safety she felt in his presence. His detachment wasn't cruelty—it was protection. Ironclad, impervious. And maybe, just maybe… she wanted some of that invincibility for herself.

Jin's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Still," he added, walking toward her once more, "we want you to become stronger. That's all. But how you handle your family's affairs… that is between you and your mother."

Then, unexpectedly, he reached forward and pinched her cheek—gently, not teasingly this time, but almost affectionately.

Her eyes widened. Before she could react, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. The touch was feather-light, almost ceremonial. And then he stepped back again.

"That was a reward," he said with a faint smile. "You're the first person I've ever kissed on the forehead. Congratulations."

Rena stood frozen.

Her heart thudded loud in her chest, too loud. The warmth from his lips still lingered on her skin, but it contrasted painfully with the knowledge that it meant nothing to him. That it was a gesture of acknowledgment—not love.

But still…

Something about it made her eyes burn again. Not from pain this time, but something she couldn't quite name.

Maybe it was the emptiness in his gaze. Maybe it was the way he spoke—like he was reading from a script written long before she was ever born. Maybe it was because, despite everything, she still wanted to matter to him.

"I'll become stronger," she said quietly, her hands clenching. "Stronger than Sarafina. Strong enough to never embarrass you."

Jin looked at her—expression neutral. Not approving. Not dismissive. Just… listening.

"That's good," he said simply. "You'll need it."

And then, turning away, he added softly under his breath:

> "Don't die like Estelle…"

But Rina didn't hear that part.

She only watched his back as he walked away, straight and unwavering, and wondered what kind of world he had lived through to learn to smile like that—with nothing behind it.

She knew the tragedy of Estelle's death and how it affected him and how his mother and Sion helped him get up. She only knew a little about the things he told her when she was at Rotschy's house in the garden outside the training room. 

And somewhere, deep inside her, a fire began to light—not of love, not yet…

But of purpose.

Of survival.

Of the desire to stand at his side… not behind him.

Even if it meant learning how to become cold

*"I think I should ask my mother-in-law to train me"*

She said these words, her golden eyes burning with a desire for something very, very deep.