Chapter 42
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: FILE 3. Long Halloween
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In the wardrobe watching through the crack that suddenly opens,
Beneath the lantern at the head of your bed as you sleep,
In the tree shadows reflected in the fragmented moonlight of twilight,
I lurk within all those shadows.
Even in places without light, you cannot be alone.
The new moon hag is coming,
The new moon hag is coming.
FILE 3. Halloween
October 31st. Sunday. Halloween.
A few minutes later, Ibi came to her senses, and the moment she saw four pairs of eyes staring at her, she nearly fainted again right after waking up.
Once she realized they were familiar faces, her heart calmed a bit. But when she recalled the events leading up to her passing out, a rush of intense emotions hit her in a different way.
Anger and embarrassment at being tricked, lingering fear that hadn't faded—her face flushed red as she huffed and puffed, then slunk to a corner and started sniffling pitifully all alone.
"There, there. No ghosts or monsters in this world. It's all lies."
Coming from a yokai, it was hardly reassuring, but Ibi buried her face in Mina's chest and whimpered.
"Damn... Just because I was late once... That's too much. I'm still in my twenties—I wanna go out and have fun sometimes, wear sexy clothes too..."
"Yeah, yeah. That's right. There, there. Good girl."
As she did, Aerin, feeling guilty as the culprit, came over to pat her back and pulled a strawberry cake from the fridge to offer her.
Ibi sniffled and grumbled about being treated like a kid, but the cake was delicious anyway. It was leftover from sales, and she hoped there'd be plenty more like it.
It was late. The shop door was locked. But the rain was still pouring hard.
No reason to stick around with nothing to do, but going out now would leave her soaked like a drowned rat even with an umbrella.
Of course, she had no intention of spending the night, but waiting a bit might see the rain stop or at least lighten up. If it didn't change, she'd have to brave it anyway.
While Ibi ate her cake, Aerin sat at the opposite table. Unlike before, she sat calmly, almost meditatively, which was striking.
Aerin picked up something on the table. A jet-black inkstick. With restrained yet fluid motions, she began grinding it on the inkstone. It took a good while to produce a lump of ink.
In front of Aerin lay Nati's fan, unfolded. She took up the brush. Unlike her leisurely movements before, they were now precise and swift like a bird of prey.
For a brief moment, tension flickered in her eyes, then the brush tip moved in a flash. Dipping ink, she swiftly scrawled something on the fan.
The short motion happened in an instant, but it seemed to demand considerable focus—Aerin let out a long exhale as she set the brush down.
Ibi saw Nati's unfolded fan up close for the first time. He'd carried it everywhere, and she'd seen him open it a few times, but never examined it this closely.
A single ink wash painting filled the fan: a stone bridge visible only at the edge, and a sleek fox darting off somewhere raggedly.
Storm clouds in the sky, depictions of fierce wind gusts—but judging by the wet ink, Aerin had just added those.
"Do you have to make it so dramatic every time?"
"It's my style. Got a problem?"
Nati, who'd snuck up and was peering over her shoulder, got a sharp retort from Aerin.
Nati didn't argue and changed the subject.
"All fixed now?"
"Not even close."
"Sloppy work."
At Nati's needling, Aerin replied in a low but clear tone.
"If you're unhappy, find someone else. Though I doubt there's anyone else in the Eight Provinces who can fix this."
"Fine, fine, sorry."
Nati backed down. Aerin grumbled as she packed away the calligraphy tools.
"To begin with, who was it that idiotically dragged in that much golden essence and wrecked it this bad?"
Ibi flinched at that. Rightly so—Nati wouldn't have done it without her involvement. She'd apologized a few times after, but she still squirmed whenever it came up.
Not just because of that, Ibi stood up. No sign of the rain letting up—she'd have to dash home anyway.
The bus stop was close enough. With an umbrella and a sprint, she wouldn't get too wet.
"I'll head out. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah. Don't be late tomorrow."
"......"
Ugh, really. Thought she was cool, but she's got some serious lingering resentment.
Still, after pulling a stunt like that over one tardy, she was scared to think what came next—no way she'd risk being late again.
With a nagging feeling, Ibi stepped out into the pouring rain.
"Take care."
Mina and Haewon saw her off at the door. As Ibi waved and vanished into the rain, Mina went back in first, but Haewon gazed up at the overcast sky with unease.
"Mom and Dad aren't out today."
He added after a moment.
"Something weird's going on."
The next day.
October 31st. Sunday. Halloween.
FILE 3. Halloween
Raindrops outside the floor-to-ceiling glass were thickening. Two women in uniquely altered hanbok paced inside the building. The shorter one approached the window. The other spoke up.
"Want a scary story for a night like this?"
"No!"
"Halloween fitting—a witch tale? From 16th-century England."
"I said no!"
"As you know, witch hunts were rampant in England then..."
Aerin calmly brought the pipe to her lips and continued.
"16th-century England, a rural manor as the setting..."
Suddenly, Aerin stopped. Ibi, who'd been freaking out at the abruptness, turned. Aerin was furrowing her brow, deep in thought.
"What's wrong?"
"This story... Did I ever tell it to you?"
"Huh? No?"
Still, Aerin looked uneasy. But she shrugged it off. It was a tale she'd just made up—who'd she tell it to?
"How the protagonist ended up on the witch's path..."
"I said I'm not listening!"
The next day.
October 31st. Sunday. Halloween.
FILE 3. Halloween
"There, there. No ghosts or monsters in this world. It's all lies."
Ibi was sniffling in Mina's arms. A scene where you couldn't tell who was the little sister. Haewon watched with curious eyes nearby.
"Yeah, yeah. That's right. There, there. Good girl."
Aerin set down a few slices of strawberry cake with a slightly awkward smile. To cheer her up. Mina perked up, while Ibi still sulked with teary eyes.
Tch. Do they think I'm some kid?
"Nom nom."
Still, better eat fast before she hogs it all.
As she forked it quickly, she noticed Mina pause mid-bite. Weird for her to stop with food in front of her. Then, with a puzzled look, she said,
"Feels like I've eaten this before."
"Strawberry cake isn't exactly rare."
"No, not that..."
Mina hung her head, trying hard to recall, but frustration mounted as nothing came.
The next day.
October 31st. Sunday. Halloween.
FILE 3. Halloween
"...find someone else. Though I doubt there's anyone else in the Eight Provinces who can fix this."
"Fine, fine, sorry."
She heard Nati and Aerin bickering lightly. Ibi glanced outside.
The rain that started at dusk showed no sign of easing—in fact, it was getting heavier. No point waiting indefinitely; she decided to dash home.
"I'll head out. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah. Don't be late tomorrow."
"......"
As Ibi opened the door, the two kids trailed after to see her off.
That's when it happened. Nati suddenly scowled and strode toward her, reaching out as if to stop her.
"Wait."
"Huh?"
Nati looked confused. She'd never seen him like this.
"You... shouldn't go."
"Huh?"
Ibi repeated herself, but Nati just frowned without elaborating.
"Can't explain it properly, but..."
"What? Come on. Nothing'll happen. Just gotta sprint to the bus stop. Can't spend the night here, right?"
Ibi laughed it off with a casual wave and plunged into the rain.
Her tiny folding umbrella barely shielded against the gusts. Water splashed up her legs, soaking her socks instantly. Ugh, laundry hell.
Exiting the alley was scary. It wasn't the cheeriest spot to begin with, and one streetlamp had burned out. Dark, though not pitch black.
Just a bit farther to the main road. Ibi steeled herself and hurried.
But it wasn't needless worry. Nor baseless fear. She never reached the main road. Someone grabbed her first.
"...Huh."
Before she could scream, a pot-lid hand clamped her mouth. Before she could grasp it, something gleaming grazed her throat.
"Happy Halloween."
The masked brute muttered. Released, Ibi's body crumpled emptily. Her gaze naturally turned upward.
Blood gushed from her severed throat. She could only manage faint groans.
Right above, the streetlamp flickered briefly—thought broken, it wasn't fully. But she couldn't see her killer's face.
In the wavering light stood a man in a hockey mask riddled with holes. His face was hidden.
The next day.
October 31st. Sunday. Halloween.
FILE 3. Long Halloween
In the wardrobe watching through the crack that suddenly opens,
Beneath the lantern at the head of your bed as you sleep,
In the tree shadows reflected in the fragmented moonlight of twilight,
I lurk within all those shadows.
Even in places without light, you cannot be alone.
The new moon hag is coming,
The new moon hag is coming.