You've Got This

"Ah, Hunter! Over here!"

The moment she stepped out of Immortal Guild Headquarters, Jehwi, who had been waiting by the entrance, flung both arms up and waved them wildly. On Seongyun's advice she had sent him the address ahead of time, though if she had known it would come to nothing—if it really was nothing—she never would have called him out at all. Sliding into the passenger seat and drawing the belt across her chest, Eunha turned that thought over.

Jehwi, about to set his foot on the accelerator, sniffed, then whipped around.

"Whoa. You smell like a bar. Just how much did you drink?"

"I don't know."

Pardon? Jehwi blinked. She didn't know—did that mean she had drunk enough not to remember?

Well. Anyone who knew anything knew the Great Sage Equal to Heaven was a prodigious drunk. So the instant Eunha's message arrived with the address of Immortal Guild Headquarters, Jehwi had dropped what he was doing and come at a run.

"Senior went where?"

"Th-the Immortal Guild, she said..."

"Why?"

"I don't know either—eek!"

That was precisely why Siwoo's eyes had gone sharp the moment he learned Eunha had set foot in Bulmyeol. Even the celebrated drinkers of the hunter world were said to spend days and nights flat on their backs after a single sitting with the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. The rumor went so far that the Association President himself—no modest drinker—avoided sharing a table with the man.

Jehwi studied Eunha's face and said nothing.

Contrary to everything he had feared, the face that had come out of the Immortal Guild was as calm as ever. If you set aside the reek of alcohol filling the car, that is.

"I knew you liked a drink, Hunter, but your tolerance must ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be something else."

He offered it lightly as he took the wheel, the way a man makes small talk, and Eunha answered as if it hardly mattered.

"There used to be a lot of reasons to drink."

"So that's how it... was?"

"Yes."

There had been a time when dying at any moment, in any fashion, would not have been strange. When staying in her right mind was more than she could manage, she and the others from her cohort had drunk as if the only order were to pour it all out. In the end it became a kind of ceremony inside the squad: every time they finished clearing a Gate, they threw a drinking party.

Well, nothing seems to have happened, at least... Relieved, Jehwi still snatched up his phone whenever a light caught them and tapped hard at the screen, for the sake of the one man who would be waiting on the report with his neck craned halfway off.

A reply arrived before even a few seconds had passed.

Of course that was what he wanted to know. Jehwi set the phone down as if it were nothing and stole a glance at Eunha.

"Ahem... Hunter, what made you visit the Immortal Guild all of a sudden? Was it the Jagalchi Market Unknown Gate, or...?"

"No. Something else."

Eunha shook her head, and the Yu Hwan she had seen just before leaving Bulmyeol Headquarters rose in her mind.

"Uuugh, Rose... not there..."

Sprawled on the floor like a great starfish, he had been grinning with a face flushed scarlet. The sight must have been wretched enough, because the cat had unloaded a scathing volley of curses right in his face.

Eunha folded that unexpected side of him neatly into a corner of her memory and parted her lips.

"...The Great Sage Equal to Heaven passed out today, so we couldn't really talk. I'll have to go back soon and finish the conversation."

"Pardon?"

Startled, Jehwi's eyes went round. Her saying she would visit the Immortal Guild again was one thing, but—

Passed out? Who? The Great Sage Equal to Heaven? Question marks crowded his head.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a horn blared behind them. The light had already turned green.

Ah—no, never mind that. The Great Sage passing out was not the point. Turning the wheel, Jehwi decided to sound her out.

"Then... when ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you say soon, when would that be?"

"They said they'd get in touch. Tomorrow at the earliest, a few days at the latest. Speaking of which, Manager."

Having said that much, Eunha turned sharply toward him, as if something had just occurred to her.

"What's a butt-smack?"

The next day, word came from Bulmyeol. The Great Sage Equal to Heaven still could not get his head up through a vicious hangover. Seongyun apologized over and over, promised to call again tomorrow, and hung up.

And the day after that, the call came not from Bulmyeol, but from Ayeon.

She said it in a bright, excited voice. The theater she meant was only a short distance from Eunha's officetel.

"Sure. Sounds good."

"Now?"

Phone in hand, Eunha glanced at the clock on the wall. Half past four on a weekend afternoon. Anywhere they went would be packed.

"The theater's near here, so come to my place."

All at once a sound came through the receiver, a little moan choked with feeling.

"Yeah. It's nothing special, if you don't mind."

Ayeon hung up like a lightning strike, and about thirty minutes later the doorbell rang.

"Hello!"

"What is all this?"

Opening the front door, Eunha stared in puzzlement at the bags filling both of Ayeon's hands.

"Um, a toothbrush, pajamas, a cup... Oh! I brought skin lotion just in case. This is the only brand I use."

Ayeon began setting the things out on the table, one after another. Eunha could not tell why, but she looked terribly pleased with herself.

Eunha regarded the purchases without much warmth. Should she say it, or not... After a long moment of weighing it, she spoke.

"...I never said you could sleep over."

"Oh, come on, you never know. Better to bring it just in case. Ta-da! I bought you pajamas too. I'm Donald Duck, and you're Daisy! Cute, right?"

Met with silence, Ayeon looked from the pajamas in her hands to Eunha and back again, then said, deflated:

"...Do you want to be Donald Duck?"

About ten minutes later, with everything she had hauled in finally put away, Ayeon at last looked around the apartment. Afternoon sun poured, blinding, through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the veranda, and the marble floor glittered like sand on a beach. Even the living-room lights had a stately cast, the sort that called up a café with the lamps turned low.

A sofa in fine leather, a television vast enough to swallow the wall, a carpet thick and soft underfoot. The smell of money had started at the officetel's front door; inside, it was stronger. And yet.

"Have you not lived here long? Why is it so empty?"

Aside from the furniture that was strictly necessary, there was nothing that suggested a life being lived. It felt, if she had to name it, like standing inside a model home staged to be looked at.

"Sit. I'll get you something."

"It's fine. I bet the fridge is totally emp—"

...ty? Ayeon's eyes went round.

The refrigerator was full: side dishes and sauces, frozen food ready to be pulled out at any moment, instant meals, and liquor and drinks besides. Nor was that all. Homemade syrups—lemon, yuzu, green plum—filled pretty glass bottles, lined up by color. Every one of them was something Jehwi had made himself.

Out of all that food, Eunha happened to take out heat-and-eat meatballs, spin them in the microwave, and bring them to the table.

So this place has a snail bride. Watching her, Ayeon was certain of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it. However she looked at the woman, she could not picture her stocking all that food herself and keeping it so neatly.

"You're not going to the academy today?"

At the question, Eunha stabbed a meatball with her fork and answered short.

"I quit."

"Huh? You quit?"

Ayeon, lifting a meatball toward her mouth, froze. The last time they had met, this was someone who had said she was going to start preparing for the certification exam. Why, all of a sudden?

"Something more important came up."

"Something important..."

Ayeon murmured it back, then jerked her head up.

"Oh, I get it! You're going to keep being a Hunter after all, right? Seriously, good call. Then have you thought about partnering with m—"

Rrrrr...

The phone rang. Eunha's.

It was not saved in her contacts, but the number was familiar. Bulmyeol, most likely.

"Give me a second."

Excusing herself to Ayeon, Eunha rose from the table, took the phone, and disappeared into the master bedroom.

Left alone, Ayeon propped her chin on one hand and rolled a meatball around the plate with her fork, waiting. Her gaze drifted without aim through the empty air, then stopped hard. A bag sat abandoned beneath the standing lamp beside the sofa.

What is that?

It did not match the clean interior—zipper gaping, left carelessly where it had fallen—and she wanted to know what it was. Ayeon got up from the table and went closer.

Ah.

The logo printed on the bag told her what it was: Eunha's bag from the dog-grooming academy. Around the open zipper, brushes and scissors, a pencil case, workbooks, and the like lay scattered in a mess.

It was not hers. Better not to touch it. Ayeon turned away without laying a hand on the bag, meaning to go back to the table.

"Ah."

Something caught her foot. A notebook.

She had not torn it by stepping on it, had she? Just as she reached down, Ayeon froze in that bent posture and did not move.

The open pages were crammed with a clumsy hand. At a glance it looked like class notes—breeds of dog, the order for trimming claws, things of that sort. Letters filled one side without a gap, and at the very bottom she found a short line scrawled in ballpoint.

For some reason her eyes would not leave those three words. She was still tilted forward, gone stiff, when Eunha came out of the bedroom and shut the door.

"Sorry, but I think we'll have to cancel the movie. Somewhere I need to go."

Brushing her hair back as she came over, Eunha tilted her head at Ayeon, who stood awkwardly beside the sofa.

"...What are you doing?"

"Ahaha, the notebook was just lying on the floor, so..."

"Ah."

The light in Eunha's eyes sank, quiet and flat. She started to speak, closed her mouth again, and turned away with a detached face.

"I don't need them anymore."

At that, Ayeon only let her gaze fall, and looked again at the notebook under her feet.

The notes were so dense that from a distance the page might have been black paper. She had never seen Eunha sit through a class, but the notebook alone let her feel, as if against her own skin, how hard the woman had been trying.

But a moment ago she had said it.

"I quit."

Plain as anything.

"Anyway, I'll finish this and head out. It's urgent. We'll see the movie next time."

Eunha said it while spearing a meatball that had already cooled a little. Across from her, Ayeon took up her fork as well.

"Will it take long?"

"No. I'm just going to talk and come back, but I don't think I can make the showtime. Sorry."

"Then we can just push it. What time should I pick? Around ten tonight, maybe?"

"Push it? How?"

"What do you mean, how? You open the app and change the time. Takes a second."

What a world. Eunha felt, all over again, how far the technology had come.

Once the showtime was changed, Ayeon slipped the phone into her pants pocket and asked,

"Done. You said it'd be over quick, right? Then why don't I just come with you? That'd be faster."

"I don't mind, but... you probably won't be able to come inside headquarters with me."

"Headquarters?"

Ayeon tilted her head.

Good lord.

About an hour later, arriving at the "headquarters" Eunha had mentioned, Ayeon was badly thrown. High on the building, a red flag snapped in the wind, and a fist emblem was drawn across it, huge.

Eunha glanced at her. Ayeon had gone stiff as stone.

"Wait here a minute. I'll finish and come right out."

Ayeon forgot even to answer. She only blinked, dazed. No—wait.

This... this is Bulmyeol!

The sting of sweat at her nose, and that tacky flag hung up as if it were something to be proud of—both were exactly as she remembered.

"No, why would you come h—"

She whipped her head around a beat too late. Eunha had already gone inside.