That night, or what passed for night inside the Loom's timeless void, Jin approached her as she sat beside Hyun-tae's fragile form.
"You can't save him," Jin said. His voice was steady, but his shadow trembled with agitation. "Every moment he exists, the wound deepens."
Ahri turned sharply. "And what do you suggest? That I kill him myself? Again?"
Jin's jaw tightened. "If you won't, I will."
Her hand went instantly to her threadblade. "Try, and I'll stop you."
The shadow flickered across Jin's face, revealing not anger, but something more fragile. Fear. "Ahri… I've seen what happens when someone bargains with the Loom. They become nothing but its hand. I can't lose you."
She faltered. For a heartbeat, she saw him as he truly was, not just a blade, not just a shadow, but a boy bound by fear of losing the only anchor left.
"Then trust me," she said softly. "Trust that I'll find a way to hold both him and myself."
Jin looked at her for a long time, then turned away. "Hope is the cruelest bargain."
But he did not raise his blade.