Don't Go
The child was looking out the window.
She was looking, but not really seeing.
It wasn't an alley. It wasn't a streetlamp. It wasn't a discarded umbrella.
There was a floor. Right under her feet.
A cold floor. Countless feet. Passing shoes. Black ones, brown ones, white ones. Ones moving quickly. She couldn't see above the ankles. Her eye level only reached that far.
There was a hand.
A tiny hand. The child's hand. Her own hand. It was clutching something.
Fabric. The hem of pants. Rough fabric. It hurt the tips of her fingers to hold on. But she didn't let go. She couldn't let go.
The footsteps quickened. The fabric grew taut. Her fingers slipped.
She let go.
Feet surged forward. Black, brown, white. The child's body was pushed aside. She fell. Her knees hit the ground. It hurt, but there was no one to tell.
She looked up.
A back. A back receding into the distance.
It didn't turn around.
She reached out her hand.
It didn't reach.
"Kong-i, what's wrong? Bad dream?"
I approached Kong-i carefully.
That's when Kong-i said something.
The sound was barely there. Just a breath carrying it.
My approaching foot stopped.
"Kong-i?"
Kong-i didn't turn. Still facing the window.
Her lips moved again. A bit clearer this time.
"Ha Yujin."
"Yeah. I'm here."
"Ha Yujin, don't go."
Her voice was trembling. The first time I'd heard this child's voice shake.
Don't go.
Kong-i's first words.
I'd heard them back in that alley. The tiny hand clutching my pant leg. Holding on like the world would end if she let go. Same words then, too.
Don't go.
"……Kong-i."
I crouched down beside her.
I could see Kong-i's face. Under the streetlamp light. No sunglasses. They were on the floor. Pink frames by my toes.
Her eyes. They were wet.
I'd never seen this child cry. Even when we first met, crying but no tears. Just shoulders shaking. No sound, no tears.
No sound now, either. Just wet eyes.
Why she was crying, what she was seeing, what had made her like this.
I couldn't know.
So I decided not to think too deeply.
I just hugged her.
With both arms. Wrapped around her small back. I felt her body heat. Cold. How long had she been breathing in the dawn air?
"I'm not going anywhere."
Kong-i's body stiffened.
"Kong-i. I'm not going anywhere."
I said it again. The same words.
Kong-i's hand moved. Slowly. The limp hand rose. Touched my hem. The fabric on her back.
She grabbed it. Hard.
"Ha Yujin."
"Yeah."
"……Ha Yujin don't go."
"Yeah. I'm right here."
Kong-i didn't move, clutching my back. Neither did I. Four a.m. in the seven-pyeong one-room. Streetlamp light filtering through the curtains.
Heukgu came down from the bed. Silently. Lay beside us. Tail still. Just pressed his nose to Kong-i's instep, staying put.
How much time passed?
The strength left Kong-i's hand. She'd fallen asleep. Standing, in my arms.
I lifted her up. So light. Unbelievably light.
Laid her on the blanket. Covered her. In her sleep, her hand groped the air. I slipped two fingers between. She grabbed them. Tight.
Only then did her breathing even out.
Pink sunglasses on the floor. I picked them up, placed them on the locker.
Glanced out the window.
Dawn alley. Streetlamp. Empty road. Umbrella by the drain.
……What did Kong-i see here?
The thought flashed, but I let it go.
Time to sleep now. Her, and me.
I opened the blanket, lay beside Kong-i. Her hand gripped my fingers again. Heukgu climbed onto my legs.
Cramped.
I closed my eyes.
Two blocks from Ha Yujin's one-room, on a building rooftop.
Too shabby to call a makeshift observation post. Two folding chairs, one sensor mount, one thermos. Not under the roof, so the wind hit full force. Dawn air bitingly cold.
Lee Seojin poured coffee from the thermos into a paper cup, set it before Park Doyoung.
"Won't you need sleep?"
Park Doyoung, leaning back in his chair, glanced sideways at her.
"Why aren't you home, Seojin?"
"Night shift today."
"Ah, got it."
Park Doyoung picked up the coffee. A sip. Lukewarm. Thermos failing.
Lee Seojin sat opposite.
"You're on duty tomorrow, Hunter Park."
Park Doyoung's head turned. News to him.
"……? I'm S-rank. Why would I—"
"I'm in overall command."
"……."
Park Doyoung took another sip. Instead of answering.
Wind blew. Past the rooftop railing, one-room rooftops clustered. Streetlamps dotted here and there. Most windows dark. Few awake at four a.m.
A brief silence.
"What do you think, Seojin?"
Park Doyoung asked, gaze on the one-rooms.
"About what?"
"Ha Yujin."
Lee Seojin didn't answer. Park Doyoung continued.
"What she's hiding. What lets her draw in calamities. Ever thought deeply about it?"
Lee Seojin's gaze halted.
Have I?
At first, yes. Pre-contact. Surveillance phase. Awakener neutralizing calamity barehanded. Possible concealed S-rank-plus combat power. Intentional hiding. Disguise. Words filling reports.
But she opened the door in slippers and sweats. Jumped for shelf she couldn't reach. Burst snack bag opening it. Called about underwear size.
After that.
"……Not really."
Lee Seojin said.
"No matter how I look, Ha Yujin doesn't seem the hiding type. Thought maybe S-rank awakener at first. Not now. She's just…… Ha Yujin."
Park Doyoung turned to look at her.
"You haven't thought deeply, huh?"
Lee Seojin didn't reply.
Park Doyoung looked forward again.
"Maybe that's her ability."
"……Pardon?"
"Perception distortion."
Lee Seojin stared at him. Eyes demanding explanation.
"Hypothesis."
Park Doyoung set down his coffee.
"Ha Yujin's bio-mana? Zero every time I check. You've seen the reports. But that's impossible. Living things have mana. Even pre-awakeners. Bugs. Plankton. Zero doesn't exist. Unmeasurable. Immeasurable."
Lee Seojin listened.
"And calamity shrank to lapdog size. Danger-grade predator shares triangle kimbap. Friendly behavior? From a danger-grade anomaly?"
A soft chuckle escaped Park Doyoung.
"Anomalies stop being anomalies around her. Beyond appearance—actually. By her side."
He paused.
Finger tapped the paper cup rim. Tap, tap. Habit while organizing thoughts.
"Not scary?"
Tone shifted.
"I'm terrified of dogs."
Lee Seojin looked at him.
Park Doyoung's face was usual. Drawling, listless, inscrutable behind sunglasses. But that line carried the honesty of thirteen years fighting anomalies.
Lee Seojin couldn't respond.
Then.
Park Doyoung's head turned.
Toward the one-room.
Lazy eyes narrowed.
Lee Seojin instinctively checked her wrist sensor.
Numbers rising. 0.2. 0.3. 0.5.
Her hand went to the communicator.
Park Doyoung's hand moved first. On her wrist. No words. Just a head shake.
Lee Seojin stopped.
0.7.
Rooftop air grew heavy. The weight resisting her lungs. Density prickling an A-rank hunter's skin.
Park Doyoung narrowed his eyes, focused breathing. Expanding detection field. Lee Seojin held her breath beside him, watching the numbers.
0.7.
0.4.
0.2.
0.0.
It subsided.
Lee Seojin asked.
"What…… was that just now?"
Park Doyoung didn't answer right away.
Picked up the paper cup again. Coffee cold from night air.
"Not sure."
A sip.
"Probably a danger-grade entity's presence leak…… something like that."
That's what he said.
But.
What Park Doyoung had just felt wasn't easily categorized that way.
How to describe it? Maybe…… emotion?
Labeling mana with emotions was absurd. Mana was physical. Measured, quantified, compared. Poets slapped sad or happy on it. Park Doyoung wasn't a poet.
Yet.
What brushed his skin just now.
Cold somewhere. Lonely.
Like that.
Park Doyoung set down the coffee. Paper cup nearly empty.
One-room windows dark. Four a.m. As if nothing happened.