Pay the Repair Costs First

"Both of you — let's talk about the repair costs now."

Cha Yura looked down at the calculator screen I'd pulled up.

"Right now?"

"The damage happened right now."

Baek Sion examined the severed sales contract and the sword marks on the wall in turn.

"I'll cover everything."

"That won't be necessary."

"If the repair costs are the issue, I can take care of them."

"Who pays how much is one problem. Treating this like money settles everything is a bigger one."

Baek Sion's lips pressed shut.

I started logging the damage items in my phone's notes app. Broken window. Refrigerator door with a knife stuck in it. Wall gouged by a sword. Two shattered glasses and a chair cracked from being knocked over. And the sales contract the two of them had sliced clean in half while fighting.

As I entered the last item, Cha Yura spoke up.

"You can just reprint the paperwork."

"It's the original with the buyer's seal on it."

"Is the reissue fee that high?"

"The fee isn't the problem. Explaining it is."

I held up the severed contract.

"I'd have to tell them that the night before the main contract, two S-class hunters got into a fight in the shared kitchen and cut the contract in half."

Cha Yura had no reply. Baek Sion asked instead.

"How much for the window?"

"I don't know yet."

"Didn't you say you'd bill us immediately?"

"First we establish who's liable. I can't invent amounts without getting estimates."

I assigned names next to each item. Window and refrigerator: Cha Yura. Wall: Baek Sion. The rest: joint liability.

Cha Yura looked at the screen and gave a short laugh.

"I broke the window, sure, but the refrigerator happened while I was dodging that woman's attack."

"You're the one who threw the dagger, Cha Yura."

"If I hadn't been hit by a sword, I wouldn't have needed to throw a dagger."

Baek Sion's gaze went cold.

"If you hadn't taken Seo Doyun hostage, I wouldn't have drawn my sword either."

"Says the person who showed up with a sword in the first place?"

"The root cause is illegal entry."

"Both of you, stop."

I cut them off and set my phone down in the middle of the table.

"I'll determine the liability ratio later after checking with the insurance company and the repair contractors. What we settle now is that neither of you hides the damage you caused, and that you both cooperate with the verification process."

Cha Yura's eyes lingered on the bandage on my neck.

"Does that include the injury?"

"Of course."

"I'll cover the medical costs."

"Please put that in writing."

"You don't trust me?"

"Wouldn't it be stranger if I immediately trusted someone who held a knife to my throat today?"

Cha Yura stared at me for a while. Then she pulled out her device and tapped the screen rapidly. A moment later, my phone buzzed. A text from Cha Yura.

It was short, but it covered what was needed.

"You left out the illegal entry."

"That's for the investigation to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠decide."

"Do you admit you broke the window to get in?"

"I admit it."

"And that you entered without my permission?"

"I was tracking a Time Anomaly Signal."

"I asked about permission."

Cha Yura's fingers tapped the side of her device.

"I didn't have it."

"And you had no authority to put a knife to my throat either?"

"It was a field judgment."

"Meaning it was justified?"

This time the answer came late. Wind through the broken window stirred the edge of the severed contract.

"I'm not saying it was justified."

Cha Yura finally said it.

"It was an overreaction. But I won't retract the judgment that I needed to verify the signal originating here and your identity."

It wasn't an apology, and it wasn't purely an excuse either. She had separated what she got wrong from what she still considered necessary.

I saved the text message screen.

"Are you going to report this?"

"That's my decision to make."

"If this goes to the Time Anomaly Response Bureau, it might not be handled as an ordinary case."

"Being affiliated with an agency doesn't make the victim disappear."

Cha Yura's mouth closed. I turned my phone toward Baek Sion.

"Baek Sion, please leave your contact information as well."

"You can contact me directly without going through the Baekya Guild."

"I need the guild contact as well."

"Why?"

"I can't just take a personal promise of responsibility and leave it at that."

Baek Sion hesitated briefly but eventually entered both her personal number and the guild emergency contact.

"I'll cover the repair costs for the wall and the shared damage."

"I'll bill you after verification."

"I'll send the money beforehand."

"You don't even know the estimate — how much are you planning to send?"

Baek Sion had no answer. The sword that could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cut through national-level disasters had stalled out on prepaid repair costs.

I closed the notes app.

"Now it's time to clean up."

Glass shards still covered the floor. I hadn't noticed while standing, but fine fragments had sprayed all the way into the back of the shared kitchen. Glittering pieces were lodged under the sink and beneath the table.

"Cha Yura, start by documenting the scene with photos. So we can confirm the entry position and the damage marks from when you first came in."

"I already took them."

"Send them to my phone as well."

"Those are investigation materials."

"This is my house."

Cha Yura opened her mouth, then closed it. Eventually she selected a few and sent them.

"These can't be shared externally."

"I'll only send what's needed to the insurance company and the repair contractors."

"And the originals?"

"I'll keep them."

After checking the photo angles and damage locations, Cha Yura said the glass could be cleaned up. I turned to Baek Sion.

"There's plywood in the storage room. Please bring it."

"You're boarding up the window?"

"If it rains tonight, the kitchen is finished."

"I'll stand guard outside."

"The wind won't go around you, Baek Sion."

Baek Sion stiffened for a moment, then headed for the hallway. Two steps later she stopped and looked back at me.

"Will you be all right alone with Cha Yura?"

"No, I won't."

"Then—"

"That doesn't mean the plywood will walk itself over here."

Cha Yura crossed her arms.

"Go get it. I won't pull a knife while you're gone."

"I don't trust your promises."

"I don't need your trust either."

They were about to start again. I picked up a broom and planted it between them.

"Bring the plywood first."

Baek Sion looked at the broom in my hand for a moment. Only then did she head for the storage room.

Cha Yura started collecting glass shards around the window. She also pulled fragments lodged in the soles of her tactical boots one by one and bagged them as evidence. Her hands were fast, and she missed nothing.

"Do you do this kind of thing often?"

"Preserving entry traces ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is basic."

"It's a bit surreal watching the person who broke the window to get in clean it up herself."

"Keep talking and I'll put the reason I broke it in the report too."

"You should."

Cha Yura's hands stopped.

"You want me to write that I saw the future?"

"Start with the facts your agency can currently verify. You tracked a signal, chose the window over the front door, entered without my permission, and put a knife to my throat."

"I saw a scene of you clashing with Baek Sion."

"That's what you saw, Cha Yura."

"Sounds like you're saying you don't trust me."

"I'm saying we should separate what can be verified from what can't."

Cha Yura folded the mouth of the evidence bag and looked up at me.

"The future you used to talk just like that while cherry-picking evidence."

"Please distinguish that person from me."

"It's the same face."

"If we have the same face, am I responsible for things I haven't even done yet?"

Cha Yura's fingers stopped on top of the bag. No answer came.

A moment later, Baek Sion returned carrying two sheets of plywood and a toolbox. She held the plywood upright with one hand and had a screwdriver and a container of screws in the other.

"Where should I secure them?"

"Inside the window frame. We need to clear all the glass first."

"I'll do it."

"Put on gloves first."

"I don't need them."

"If you cut your hands, the repair billing gets even more complicated."

Baek Sion quietly put on the rubber gloves. Watching yellow dishwashing gloves cover the hands that held a sword somehow drained the intimidation factor.

Cha Yura offered a comment from the side.

"They suit you."

"You stay quiet."

"I was told not to fight. Nobody said not to talk."

"Both of you, work."

Baek Sion set the plywood against the window frame. She put too much force into it — the old wood creaked low.

"Ease up."

"I won't drop it."

"It's not the plywood that'll break — it's the frame."

The strength left Baek Sion's arms. I cleared the remaining glass fragments from the frame and drove in the screws. Every time the wound on my neck pulled, Baek Sion's gaze followed, but this time she didn't try to take over the work.

Cha Yura collected the remaining shards while periodically checking the red dot on her device.

"How's the signal?"

"It's weakened."

"Gone?"

"No."

"Location?"

Cha Yura zoomed in on the screen. The red dot was still marked over Haewoljang.

"The whole building. At least with current equipment, I can't narrow it further."

"We've confirmed that the distance returned to normal once the two of you stopped fighting."

"That doesn't prove this house is the cause."

"I haven't confirmed that either."

"The key Baek Sion has needs to be investigated."

Baek Sion's expression hardened as she held the plywood.

"I refuse."

"It could be an item from the future."

"I won't hand it over to you."

"The Bureau needs to preserve it."

"A member of that Bureau just tried to go for my wrist a moment ago."

Cha Yura started to rise again. I tapped the window frame with the screwdriver handle.

"We agreed not to touch each other's belongings today."

Both of them stopped moving.

"Keep the key and the notebook. But if you're going to take them out or use them, notify me first."

Cha Yura's eyes dropped to the inside of her coat — where the blood-stained notebook was.

"When did you see my notebook?"

"It was visible before the fight even started."

"The contents too?"

"Just the cover."

"Don't even think about opening it."

"I won't look without consent."

Baek Sion looked at me.

"You examined my key."

"Because you gave permission, Baek Sion."

"I see."

A short reply. I didn't ask what she meant by it. What I needed to know right now wasn't the identity of future items — it was making sure no more blades flew around this house tonight.

By the time all the plywood was secured, well over an hour had passed. The shared kitchen was still a mess, but the wind ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was blocked. I'd also unplugged the refrigerator. The side dishes and ingredients inside had been moved to a smaller working fridge, and I'd taped plastic sheeting under the sword gouge on the wall to keep debris from falling. It was enough to get through the night.

I leaned the broom against the wall.

"That's enough cleanup for now."

Baek Sion removed the rubber gloves.

"Now show me Room 201."

"No."

"I'll cover the damage costs."

"Repair costs and tenancy are separate matters."

"I need to be here."

"That reason hasn't been verified."

"Hasn't today's events confirmed it enough?"

"What today's events confirmed is that you're strong, Baek Sion, and that if you fight Cha Yura, my house gets destroyed."

Baek Sion's face hardened.

"I came here to protect you."

"When someone who claims to protect you ignores your permission, that's not protection — that's control."

Only after saying it did my neck sting more sharply. Baek Sion's gaze dropped to the bandage.

"The future me waited for permission and lost you."

"That future me is not the current me."

"It's the same person."

"Then respect the decisions the current me is making."

Baek Sion had no answer. Standing bare-handed looked more precarious than when she'd held her sword. Even so, I couldn't give her a room.

It wasn't just because the two of them were dangerous. If I handed over my present house and my choices based solely on claims of some future relationship, from that moment on I'd be living someone else's life — a life I didn't know.

"I'm not letting anyone move in today."

I pointed toward the entrance.

"You too, Cha Yura. Please leave. If you need further investigation, contact me through official channels."

Cha Yura held up her device.

"The signal is still here."

"That still doesn't mean you can stay without permission."

"I'll monitor from outside."

"Outside the front gate."

"What if you run?"

"I have no intention of running."

"What if you destroy the evidence?"

"We've already shared the photos and the texts."

Cha Yura studied me for a moment. Eventually she collected her dagger and tucked it inside her coat.

"I'll come back to check in three hours."

"If you want to come in then, start by ringing the doorbell."

"Because the window's boarded up?"

"Because this time I'm telling you to use the door."

Cha Yura looked at the plywood that had replaced the broken window. Without a word, she headed for the entrance.

Baek Sion didn't move.

"You need to leave as well, Baek Sion."

"I'll wait until you give me Room 201."

"Outside?"

"In front of the entrance."

"I don't permit that."

"I know."

Baek Sion set her travel bag upright by the handle.

"I'll stay outside the front gate. If any danger comes to this house or to you, I'll come in immediately."

"Don't come in unless I call for you."

"If your life is in danger, I won't comply."

"That's not for you to decide on your own, Baek Sion."

"Waiting for permission on that judgment is what made me late."

Baek Sion offered no further explanation. She opened the front door and went outside.

Beyond the gate, under a streetlamp, she set down her travel bag and stood where she could see Haewoljang's entrance. Cha Yura was leaning against a wall across the alley. Two people who didn't trust each other were watching the same door from outside the house.

I locked the front door. I fastened the safety chain as well, then returned to the shared kitchen.

The window boarded with plywood. The gouged wall. The refrigerator with a hole in it. The contract sliced in half. It was hard to believe this was a house the night before it was supposed to be sold — it was that thoroughly wrecked.

I checked my phone. Three missed calls. All from the same person. The real estate agent.

A text arrived shortly after. The buyer wanted to re-inspect the building's condition before the main contract.

I stared at the plywood-boarded window for a long time.