No Refunds
They stepped outside after the omakase. The sun had passed its height and was slowly leaning toward evening.
"Now tell me what it is you wish to do."
"Me?"
Hong Yumin handed the choice to the young man.
"A reward. Never in my life have I tasted food so fine, so I shall grant a wish of yours."
"...I don't really want anything."
"Come now. A date is something a man and a woman enjoy together. What sort of date is it if I alone am pleased?"
Unless the request proved truly wretched, she meant to indulge him as far as she could.
"Consider it a once-in-a-lifetime concession. You will not often find me in so generous a mood."
"Hmm..."
Watching her declare it with her chest thrown out, the young man turned the matter over.
"...Want to see a movie? We can walk the meal off."
"A film? Is there anything worth seeing at present?"
"Give me a second."
He took out his phone and searched the showtimes.
"Something decent... there's an action movie, and a noir."
"Is there nothing else?"
"There's a romance... You want to watch it?"
Hong Yumin shook her head. To her, romance was a tale from some far-off country.
"I shall have to see for myself."
She pressed in close at his side, and a cool, clean fragrance reached his nose.
"They are all of a kind. There is not one thing worth watching."
She clicked her tongue.
"...The times being what they are. Nobody has the luxury of releasing a film right now."
"At this rate we shall only be killing time."
"How about a horror movie, then?"
"A horror film?"
Her gaze settled on the only horror movie currently showing. It was a Korean one.
"I do not believe I have ever seen a horror film."
"That should be fine, right?"
"Well. Once ought to do no harm."
Hong Yumin tapped the title.
"Let us take this one."
"Sure."
She had pressed herself nearly into his arms, and he booked the tickets without making her move.
"The time is..."
Then her eyes met his, and only then did she grasp the state they were in. She was flush against him, close enough to be an embrace.
Hong Yumin eased away and cleared her throat.
"Ahem. A great deal of time remains. We shall have to fill it somehow. Have you a decent notion?"
"...There's a café nearby. Want a cup of coffee?"
"Let us go there."
She spun on her heel.
The young man made no effort to walk at her side. Only when she told him to hurry was he permitted to fall in beside her. A faint heat still lingered on her cheeks.
"There is no one in the café."
"It's been one thing after another."
The place ought to have been packed at this hour, yet it was nearly empty. After so many incidents, people had grown reluctant to leave their homes.
"What do you want?"
"I have no taste for bitter things. Order something sweet."
"Hmm... a frappé, then?"
"A chocolate frappé would do nicely. Order cake as well."
"Yes, ma'am."
He stepped up to the counter and jolted the part-timer out of a blank stare fixed on Hong Yumin.
"Order, please."
"Huh? Oh— y-yes. Wh-what would you like?"
"One chocolate frappé, one hot chocolate, two slices of tiramisu, two waffles, and four strawberry yogurt macarons."
"One moment, please."
The part-timer snatched the card and rang it through at once, points and receipts forgotten entirely.
Pager in hand, the young man went to where Hong Yumin waited and sat.
"Why ever did you order so much? We have only just eaten."
"I got hungry on the way."
"Tsk. See that you finish every bit."
"I will."
Whispers rustled through what remained of the café and reached his ears.
"She's gorgeous. Is she a celebrity?"
"If a celebrity looked like that, she'd have blown up ages ago."
"You know who she is?"
"No idea."
"The gallery is loud."
"It's because you're beautiful."
"Ha. Why must people take such an interest in others."
Uneasy under the sidelong looks, Hong Yumin flicked her fingers twice. At once the stares were wiped away, and the people who had stopped out in the street went on about their business.
Right then, the pager chimed.
"I'll go get it."
While he was fetching the order, a customer stepped into the shop.
"...?"
Hong Yumin's gaze turned toward him. There was nothing distinctive about the man at all. He came in like anyone, ordered like anyone, sat down like anyone, and waited. The sort of customer every café contained.
And yet she could not look away. It was not that he was handsome. She had not trained so carelessly as to be dazzled by a face. Nor was he dangerous. Her intuition sent no warning whatsoever. Reason and instinct alike told her there was nothing there.
But.
What is this...?
Once the question had taken root, it would not leave her.
Why can't I ignore that customer?
"Yumin. I brought it."
"Ah— yes."
The young man blocked the customer from view, and her attention shifted to the food.
"You feeling sick? You're sweating a lot."
"Am I?"
She wiped her brow on reflex. Water pattered off her skin, as if she had just washed her face.
"Here. Cool off with this."
"...Very well."
She took the chocolate frappé he offered and set her lips to the straw, tilting her head. She still needed to see whether that customer remained.
"What's wrong?"
"It is nothing."
His head tilted with hers. She could not see the man.
"Yumin. It's going to go bad. Let's eat."
"Let us."
She took the fork, speared a macaron, and ate. Sweet strawberry bloomed across her tongue.
"Keep eating for a minute. I'm going to the restroom."
The young man stood, and the space behind him lay wide open.
The customer was gone.
"Oh, Yumin."
"What is it?"
"Nothing's going to happen. So—"
"Hm?"
Hong Yumin realized the mask that had hung at his hip was gone.
And the world was washed in gray.
Slurp. Slurp. A man in a coat was drinking coffee through a straw.
The young man walked up to him.
"Korean coffee really is good. You don't get this flavor out of American coffee."
"Cafés are probably second only to churches around here. If you're going to sell the stuff, it has to taste good."
"Fair enough."
The man finished the coffee and tossed the cup into the trash. The bag in the bin did not so much as sway.
"How is it, stepping out for air after so long?"
"Rather good. Seeing a thing and living it really are different."
He stroked a car that had stopped mid-run.
"It tastes of life. Like it's being driven straight down my throat."
"I wouldn't know. I can hardly feel it."
The young man looked around. A pedestrian had frozen mid-step. A falling maple leaf had frozen. A person shouting into a phone had frozen. The wind had stopped. The air had stopped. The cars racing down the road had stopped. The sky had stopped. The light had stopped.
He swept his gaze across the ground. Not a single mote of dust stirred. The world had halted, as if time itself had stopped, and within it only two beings still moved.
"Can you taste anything in a world that's been stuffed and mounted?"
"You have a point."
The man leaned his back against the car.
"Sorry for interrupting the date. I've gone and spoiled a pleasant time."
"You get to the point quickly."
"Are you angry?"
"Not particularly."
The young man shrugged.
"Good, if you're not."
"This once. Next time you come, bring a gift."
"I'll remember. Next time I'll bring tribute."
"Tribute?"
"Isn't that what they call it, when a fan gives a gift to a star?"
The young man's face crumpled all at once.
"A fan?"
"I may not look it, but I am your number-one fan."
He went on as if proud of the fact.
"Phantom. You shattered every expectation I held and gave me a pleasure beyond words. Each time I watch you, my heart pounds, and tomorrow becomes something to look forward to."
The man's face rippled. The human head collapsed and sank back into formless dark, and a black drop spread across the gray canvas.
"I first came to know you in the matter of Sword. On Jeju I beheld an incomprehensible Chaos. When you met Heaven my heart raced, and in Hawaii I watched a phantasmagoric performance. And the Heavenly Punishment—what is there even to say!"
Darkness spread as if night had fallen. Every color collapsed into one.
"Heaven, dismantled. The meeting of mortal and immortal has come to promise eternity. The world ought to thank you. You saved lives without number."
Beneath the feet of the young man—the only thing that still had color—mud began to seethe.
Space wanted it. A whole made one. A one made whole.
You too. Come with us, and go on toward what lies beyond.
It courted him. It hungered for him. It desired him. Without end.
"Phantom. I find myself curious."
"You speak in words no one could understand."
A mask settled over the young man's face. Three lines, pressed shut into a single flat stroke, stared straight into the dark.
"If you have come out for a stroll, kindly refrain from being a nuisance, and go back."
Gray light flared and died. A new picture was added to the canvas. A full moon descended.
"Otherwise I shall send you back by force."
"Now that, I look forward to."
For the record.
"Those who spoke to me that way—"
"All of them died."
"The archangel who governs fire, the First Awakened, Heaven's great elder, the Seven Sins, the one-eyed sage, the lord of Olympus, the giant of ruin—the list has no end."
Ah.
"A certain family in Hawaii died as well."
"All but one."
"I am aware."
I know.
"There is no need to boast."
I already know every bit of it.
"Good. Then show me your performance."
"Human who came from the Origin."
"Request received."
"Customer."
"I never asked for one."
The final boss of the comic Forever.
Another One set foot upon a stage meant for an audience of one.
