Shadows of Past Lovers
The woman introduced by my friend was a complete stranger to me. My social circle was paper-thin to begin with, so even if we'd gone to the same high school, I only had two or three close friends—calling her a stranger was just easier. My friend had only introduced me as a talented shaman who could read people well. Word must have spread quietly among their circle, because she immediately said, "Ah, you? Nice to meet you. I'm Hyein, Seon-ah's friend."
"Hello."
Without any stuffy introductions or persuasion from me, she got it right away and confirmed who I was. Her boyfriend, though, didn't seem to know exactly what I did—he vaguely thought I was some kind of tarot reader or philosopher or something.
"I do shaman work, peeking into people's pasts and predicting futures. But think of this as just for fun, haha."
"Please take care of us."
The woman didn't jump at the idea of past or future readings but clearly came out of curiosity. The guy, on the other hand, seemed amused—like someone who didn't believe in shamans or ghosts had that casual leisure about him. If shamans could really see the past and predict the future perfectly, they'd just invest in stocks and make bank instead of listening to other people's sob stories, right?
"Let's order coffee first and get started. The reading won't take long anyway."
"Sure."
We'd ordered ahead, so I stood up to get theirs from the kiosk. As the cafe music drowned things out, Seon-ah, sitting next to me, leaned in close.
"What do you think of that guy?"
"Eh, nothing special stands out. Just your average dude walking the streets."
"Not some male prostitute or gold-digger, right?"
"Nah, I can say for sure he's not that type."
"Phew, good. She said they locked eyes when she briefly worked at her dad's company. But hearing how they got close, it felt too coincidental."
"Meeting people is all coincidence. Why overthink it?"
"That's 'cause I'm your friend."
She seemed a bit embarrassed handling all the worrying and requests her parents might make herself. But I didn't mind her nosiness—it was why she stayed my friend. It wasn't intrusive because it came from caring extra about her friends and family. Amazing how that didn't bother me.
"They seem like a good couple, but there's just one thing I can tell you."
"What?"
"Something about the guy's ex-girlfriend..."
"Hmm?"
I wanted to ask right away when the ex came up, but they were coming back with their coffee, so I held back. Seon-ah's curious face was kinda cute. Better satisfy that itch quick.
"I took a quick peek at your compatibility."
"Huh? Like birthdates or something...?"
"That stuff's for scholars deep into ancient texts. Someone like me wouldn't know even if I saw it. Watch out for anyone throwing around stroke counts or the sexagenary cycle—they're usually scammers."
"Oh, really?"
It seemed like small talk to break the ice, but I took it seriously, and she flinched a bit. They looked like they wanted some chit-chat, but I wasn't that leisurely. My inventory—equivalent to that here—was filling up, and it was time to offload some stuff.
"I'm no expert to pontificate on your relationship. My words won't sway your parents' opinions either."
"Ah... okay."
"But what I can say is, your boyfriend has an ex from way back—a high school girl, by the look of her face."
"Pardon?"
The guy startled at the sudden ex-girlfriend mention. A new flicker of doubt entered Hyein's eyes, which had only shone with love until now.
"Not trying to expose any skeletons. She's standing right behind him. Not for bad reasons—more like she's personally vetting the women he dates."
"Hmm..."
"Like a guardian spirit. The good kind."
I shot them a look saying not to drag sad, sentimental stories into a cafe blasting upbeat tunes. A high school girlfriend who'd died becoming his guardian was proof of his character—of course, the positive side. I could banish her with one necromantic command, but no need.
"For him, that's the vibe. For her... it should go smoothly if you take it naturally. As long as you don't get greedy."
"Greedy?"
"Like chasing what you can't have. You'll figure it out in time."
I cut her off with a glance before she pried deeper into personal history—I had no interest. To inherit more from her parents, his abilities fell short. He was a good guy, capable of section chief or deputy manager, but too small-scale to run a whole company. Even if they dated now on youthful vibes, the future depended on her. Easy to say she'd live well later, but not here.
"Plenty of books on living well together, and even your parents have made it work for years—ask them. Faster that way."
"Ah, yes."
"You two probably have a lot to say to each other. We'll head out first."
"What about a tip or...?"
"No need. I'm not a fortune-teller—if I take money, the association comes knocking."
"There's an association for that too?"
"Anywhere money flows, there's always some union or association."
I stood with my friend before I lost my temper. We'd finished our drinks during the talk, so we slipped out quick, giving them alone time. Seon-ah, hearing fresh gossip about her friend, kept going "Ooh, ooh" with fascination.
"They seemed all lovey-dovey, but apparently not entirely."
"Everyone's got baggage—they date anyway. What's dating if not that?"
"Pfft, at our age, it's just dating. Lips mix, bodies follow naturally."
Once you start getting physical, it's hard to stop—that was her womanly view. As a former playboy with multiple women, it didn't resonate much.
"Is that so?"
"That's 'cause you don't date. Try a one-nighter with a stud who's good in bed—you'd get it."
"Shut it, you slut. No filter around other people."
She was closer to offering to hook me up with athletic studs or hot actors over pushing sex, so I brushed it off. Relationships with men were always my losing battle.
We got a gift as a tip of sorts, so no need for elsewhere—we stopped by her parents' antique shop. To unload my inventory's otherworldly goods, I'd packed them in a big wooden box from the trunk. Seon-ah opened the lid first.
"These jewels have a unique style. Pretty old, but the craftsmanship is top-notch. From which country?"
"Dunno exactly. Got them from jobs—heard they're from somewhere in the Middle East."
"Middle East? That explains why I don't know. Lots of dictatorships there, hard to verify provenance, so they don't fetch full value."
"You know your stuff."
"All my education's good for. Dad might know more?"
Dad came to appraise but couldn't pinpoint origin either. Publishing research could net a PhD, but that was for boosting value. Certification might get tens of billions per relic, but it took time—I passed.
"Me holding relics as owner just brings hassle. Old saying: personal relics bring misfortune."
"Hmm... then we'll have to go with average gold and silver coin rates."
"Sounds good."
"We'll handle taxes too."
"Thanks."
He felt uneasy shortchanging a future boss's friend, so taxes were on them. Better than letting unknowns rot when I could die anytime—I was satisfied.
"Call if more stuff pops up?"
"Of course. Bring as much as you want."
She grinned, relieved about her thesis post-grad. Staff bustled checking purity, patterns, shapes—snapping photos, handling delicately to avoid scratches or breaks. Made me embarrassed for tossing them loose in the box.
"Got cash—let's grab food."
"Yeah. Tell me more about those two."
"Sure."
Quiet on the drive, but she couldn't hide her curiosity—spilling third-party romance was perfect bar snack.