I wake to the soft glow of moonlight filtering through paper windows. For a moment, I don't remember where I am - the forest, the bandits, the blood and fear all threatening to overwhelm me again. Then I feel it - the warmth of another body beside me, the steady rise and fall of a chest against my back.

"阿诞？" (Dan?)

Jin's voice is low with sleep, but there's concern in it that cuts through the fog of my memories. I turn carefully in his arms, wincing at the soreness still lingering in my muscles from my escape. His face is close in the dim light, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced than I remember. He's older, more burdened, but still my brother.

Our eyes meet, and I see the fear there - not for himself, but for me. The memories come flooding back then: the bandits' camp, the boiling pots, the faces of the others... I shudder involuntarily.

Jin pulls me closer, his hand gentle on my back. "You're safe now," he murmurs, his breath warm against my forehead. "You're home."

Home. The word feels foreign after so long away, yet his embrace feels like exactly that. I realize in this moment how much I've missed him, how empty my life as a performer was without the anchor of family.

I reach up to touch his face, my fingers tracing the轮廓 of his cheekbone. He doesn't pull away. Instead, his eyes soften with an emotion I can't quite identify - protectiveness, certainly, but something more complicated too. Something that makes my heart race faster in the quiet darkness of the room.