There Won't Be a Next Time

A hotel somewhere in Seoul.

The room was lavish enough to pass for five stars, or something past even that.

A blond young man sat perched on a chair, humming in high good humor. In its cage, a white bird drowsed and nodded, as if the humming were pleasant to hear—until the door flew open.

Bang!

"Whoa. You scared me."

Andrea, the Fortune Teller, had been resting his chin on one hand. He flinched, shoulders jumping, and turned toward the door.

Yijun, in a black suit, strode straight up to him without so much as taking off his gloves.

"Yohan? Where have you been?"

Yijun didn't answer at once. He dropped into the chair opposite Andrea, and when he swept his hair back with a light hand, the faintest scent of cologne touched the tip of Andrea's nose.

But Andrea knew. He didn't wear cologne.

This was his own scent. More precisely, the fragrance of his unique ability—Pheromone.

Loosening the cuff button that had been fastened too tight, and rolling the sleeve up a little, Yijun answered short.

"The Association. Only for a moment."

Maestro had signed with the Korean Hunter Association months ago. There was nothing strange in his paying the Association a visit.

"Mm... I see."

Even so, Andrea flicked his gaze aside, as if some corner of him had been pricked.

"You did something useless, Andrea."

So it had come, just as he'd known it would. Andrea blinked, all innocence.

"Useless? You mean delivering the prophecy to the Association?"

At that brazen tone, Yijun's eyes sank. His expression never changed, but Andrea could tell all the same. His mood was foul.

Andrea, the Fortune Teller, had used a carrier pigeon to deliver a prophecy to Go Daeyun, president of the Korean Hunter Association.

Assuming the president put his trust in it, Korea would be able to prepare in advance for the disaster soon to come.

The concrete shape of that preparation was not a matter for GIA to meddle in. It shouldn't have been.

"...Mentioning the attributes was only a little extra. On the house."

"And? Did you collect a tip?"

Yijun curled one corner of his mouth. His eyes, of course, were not smiling in the least.

"Have you clean forgotten your promise to me—that you'd keep quiet about the attributes?"

"That was..."

Andrea trailed off, fumbling.

"S-still, thanks to that, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Korean Association will be able to ready something more concrete, and in the end more people will live. That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Isn't it, Yohan?"

Andrea looked at him. Yijun answered with a face that left no room for argument.

Cold, to the point of sounding irresponsible. His eyes, by contrast, had sunk under a weight with no bottom.

Whenever Yijun recalled the past, his eyes took on that look. Andrea read the feeling they held.

Grief. He was certain of it.

On the surface, Yijun was rational and calculating, and he wrote off the small sacrifices required to reach a goal as unavoidable. On the surface.

Andrea knew better. If Yijun had truly been that sort of man, he would never have worked as GIA.

He would never have turned his back on Chaser, the guild his father had built, and decided on a sudden journey to Korea like a man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠possessed.

—Nor would he have tended, for thirty years, the grave of someone he didn't even know.

Before the silent Andrea, Yijun gave a shrug.

"Not even your prophecies can save everyone. You know that."

The Fortune Teller's ability was extraordinary in that he could see the future. Among every awakener in the world, there was likely no one else with the gift of foresight.

It was, however, an unkind ability.

Even Andrea never knew when his Hyeonan—the Wise Eye—would open and let him see what was coming, and he could not call up the future of whatever day and hour he wished. Had he been able to, a run of lottery wins would long since have made him the richest man alive.

A white tree, glimpsed only in fragments, in a Hyeonan that had opened by chance.

Reading it as the sacred attribute and the wood attribute had been little better than forcing the pieces to fit. As if a single tree would be all that gate contained.

And whether that tree was a danger at all could not be known until someone stepped inside.

Even so, Andrea had gone out of his way to add a word of advice about the opposing attributes when he sent his message to the president. Fire and darkness, named outright.

Like a man tossing bait.

"Just say it plainly. You had another purpose."

At Yijun's voice, sharp as a blade, the air in the room went cold. The white bird in the cage beat its wings at the change.

Andrea, who had kept his eyes fixed on the cage, broke a long silence and moved his lips.

"...Yohan. She is a savior."

Even as he said it, he could not look toward Yijun.

She. No name was spoken, and yet both of them called up the same person.

The Princess of Dark Flare.

"This is only the beginning. The real disaster is about to start. When it does, humanity will need her."

"This will make her grow a great deal. And then, in the true disaster that's coming, she will surely—"

"Stop."

Yijun cut him off at a stroke. He raked his bangs into a mess as if sick of the sound, and opened his mouth, hard.

"At the party. Last time."

Not even a formal smile remained at his mouth.

"Did you think I wouldn't know you borrowed my name to invite her?"

"That was..."

Andrea faltered, then spoke again.

"Even after you came to Korea, you never once went to see her of your own accord. Honestly, I still don't understand. The reason you came to Korea in the first place was the Princess of Dark Flare."

"Am I wrong?"

Andrea stared straight at him. Gaze met gaze, and a silence settled. Yijun gave no answer.

"...Why."

Andrea's lips barely moved.

"Why are you pushing her away so hard?"

"Yohan, tell me. I know. The truth is, you still—"

He flinched.

Andrea shut his mouth.

The eyes of the man sitting across from him changed all at once. Even Andrea, who had watched him for no short span of years, had never seen a face this sharp.

"...Andrea."

Yijun called him low, and slid off the glove he wore.

Nothing more than that. And yet Andrea could not move, as if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠invisible chains had bound his whole body tight.

A crimson haze rose along Yijun's silhouette. With it came a thick fragrance, vivid and near, and Andrea's mind went soft.

"I think of you as a colleague. And to me, as I am now, a colleague means only the Fortune Teller and the members of GIA—you among them."

"Ah..."

When he closed his eyes and opened them, he was already on his feet, his chin caught in Yijun's hand. In the interval he had not been able to resist at all. Same as always.

"Real disaster or whatever else it is, the lot of us will be enough on our own. We don't need anyone else. Do we?"

The voice was close, as if whispered right against his ear. As though something had taken hold of him, Andrea slowly nodded.

Yijun smiled, faint and satisfied, and gently let go of his chin. Only then did focus return to Andrea's vacant eyes.

A faint throbbing in his head, like just waking from wine. Andrea understood.

It was thanks to this skill that he twisted the Association president around his finger whenever he needed to. Because of it, Yijun could have what he wanted without spending much of his strength. Making the Association give up digging into the Princess of Dark Flare, for instance.

That was dangerous.

If Yijun had felt like it, three seconds later Andrea would probably have been licking his shoes. The thought made him shudder. He felt it all over again: he was truly glad to be this man's colleague.

Yijun drew the glove back on and rose. He gave his suit jacket a small flick and walked toward the door.

Hand on the knob, he added one last thing without turning his head.

"You're really quitting?"

The director's office at Kang Haenguk Dog Grooming Academy. The director looked up, regret plain in his eyes.

The person sitting across from him was Lee Yura, a new student who had only recently enrolled. And yet, not long after she had started, she had come in out of nowhere to say she was done.

"There's still six months left on the term, and under the rules a refund would be difficult..."

"That's all right."

Eunha answered with perfect calm. The director, hearing it, could not manage ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the same.

"People with a talent like yours are rare, Yura... It's a real shame."

He let the words trail off, watching her face, as if he still hoped she might change her mind even now. Eunha only smiled faintly.

"Thank you for everything."

Click.

Coming out of the office, she didn't move at once. She stood where she was and took in the surroundings: the academy hallway, familiar by now; the three or four doors that led to the training rooms; a dog barking now and then, and the snip of scissors through fur.

Over all of it, a man's voice laid itself.

Eunha remembered the man smiling proudly as he looked at her. In a funeral hall empty of anyone but the two of them, he had smiled just like that.

The Director in the memorial photograph had been smiling that way too.

Before she left the hall, the Director's son had bowed his head to her and said:

"..."

Eunha slowly stroked her left wrist.

The new Wish Bracelet, a gift from Jehwi. Beside it lay an old Wish Bracelet of nearly the same color, the two of them overlapping.

She stood blankly in place for a long while. At last she started slowly toward the elevators. And then—

"Yura! Yura, wait!"

Someone called her to a stop in an urgent voice. It was Yoonho, thoroughly disheveled, nothing like his usual neat self.

"I—I heard you're quitting the academy. Is it true?"

Standing in front of her, his chest rose and fell hard. His hair streamed all one way in the draft. He must have run flat out.

"Yes. Today's my last day."

Eunha answered flatly. Yoonho, who had barely caught his breath, crumpled all at once.

"So it... really is true..."

Thud. He bent his knees and sank down, covering his face with both hands. Eunha lowered her dark gaze and looked at him.

"Thank you for teaching me all of that. I hope you pass the certification exam."

"Well, then."

She turned her back with perfect ease. Quitting the academy was already settled inside her. There was no need, now, to feel the loss of it, or to hesitate.

"Yura!"

She had taken only a few steps when his urgent cry came from behind.

She turned her head and met his eyes. His face was flushed deep as he looked at her.

He drew a long breath, then opened his mouth.

"I... I like you, Yura."

"...What?"

"I fell for you at first sight, the day we met at the academy. I-it's sudden, I know... but if I don't say it now, I think I'll regret it."

What is he saying? Eunha blinked, and a yellow message window chimed into the air before her eyes.

"Yura, please go out with me."

Beyond the windows, Yoonho waited for her answer with a grim, determined face.

Only then did Eunha understand, a beat too late. He was confessing.

"..."

She kept her mouth shut.

He was, certainly, a good person. Diligent, kind, the sort everyone took to. Nothing about his looks or his character had a sharp edge.

It was no great surprise that he had all the popularity at the academy to himself. Eunha thought so too.

If she had been an ordinary college student, she might have looked at him as a man and come to like him. The way most of the other students did.

But.

"I'm sorry."

Her lips moved, small.

"For the time being, I mean to set everything else aside and give myself only to my real work."

"I apologize."

She said it once more and looked at him. Yoonho smiled, bitter, as if he had expected as much.

"...So you have a real profession. It must keep you busy."

"Yes."

Having answered short, Eunha turned smoothly around. Black hair that fell to her waist swelled in a round sweep and settled again.

The hallway window. The iron bars, bent like pulled taffy in a crushing grip, were still exactly as they had been. With her eyes fixed on them, she spoke plainly.

"Last time, when a gate opened in front of the academy, you asked me what I meant to do if I went over there."

She glanced at Yoonho with only her eyes.

"I save people."

Her lips drew a gentle curve.