Lee Yena
The sound of a small child collapsing to the ground rang out with a dull, jarring impact.
Seeing the child stagger and fall snapped Yura's mind back from the shock that had seized her.
She looked exactly like Seon-a…
The thought came to her that some monster must have used a mental assault to overlay the image of Seon-a — the very face she had been thinking of only moments before — onto its own form. But the child lay face-down, features pressed against the earth, and the possibility that what she had just seen was only a trick of the mind crept back in.
A warning sounded in her head that she must not approach. Her heart, however, urged her to settle the question at once. She could not stop her feet from moving of their own accord. In the end, Yura had no choice but to look.
When she took hold of the child and sat her upright, the face that met her was Seon-a's — Seon-a as he had been around the age of five. The closed eyes and the faint, steady rhythm of breath told her the child had lost consciousness. Fearing that some monster's illusion had been cast over the features, she carefully felt the face with her hands. It was no disguise. This was, without question, a small child wearing the childhood face of Seon-a.
Joy at having found a lead on Seon-a warred with a swirl of confusion in her mind. Then she realized the Gate was still open. Gathering the child into her arms, she moved first to close the Gate behind her. No other monsters showed any sign of emerging, but so long as it remained open, an attack could come at any moment. She acted quickly. Under Yura's hand, the Gate sealed shut.
That blue, ominous portal, rippling with menace, closed — and the surrounding mist began to thin. She looked down at the face of the child cradled against her. With the fog lifting, the child came into sharper focus: her whole body was soaked with sweat, as though she had forced her way through the Gate in desperate haste. Her lips parted, and a faint sound escaped.
"Da…d…"
Who was the father this child — this child who so resembled Seon-a — was calling for? Hyuntae, Seon-a's own father? Impossible. Then the father of this child must be…
Ah…
From everything she had seen and heard, Yura's mind raced through one possibility after another until the pieces of the puzzle locked into place. Seon-a could not simply have become this young again. This child's father was, without doubt, Seon-a himself — Seon-a, whose life had been ruined by Yura's own daughter. The joy of having found a clue to him spread through her chest.
She wanted to wake the child that very instant and ask about Seon-a and Mina, but she forced herself to hold back. The child's condition looked far from good. Cold sweat still ran freely down her skin, and her complexion was deathly pale. There did not seem to be any wounds on her body, but she looked so unwell that Yura nearly carried her straight to a hospital — then stopped.
If Seon-a was the father, who was the mother? The thought struck her that the mother might not be human at all. Yura knew well enough what happened to men dragged through a Gate, and the conclusion came quickly. Taken as breeding slaves in the most literal sense — this child was both the product of the suffering Seon-a had endured and, at the same time, a lead to him. What had first been joy turned bitter in her heart.
In the end, the likelihood that this child was a monster was high. Deciding she must not take her to a hospital, Yura carried the child to her car and drove home. All the way back she could not settle the warring thoughts in her mind: that the child might be a monster, and that the child was Seon-a's own flesh and blood.
Yura kept watching the child's color the entire drive, taking the car slowly so as not to jostle her, and by the time they arrived she was exhausted herself. The child's continuous soft whimpers of discomfort had worried her so much that she had no choice but to ease off the speed. Bringing the child home while Yurin was there carried its own risk — but these days Yurin wanted nothing except to find her medicine and sink into sleep. She would not be awake at this hour.
Yura parked in the garage, unbuckled the child's seatbelt, lifted her into her arms, and carried her to the master bedroom. She stripped away the sweat-soaked clothes and dressed her in something loose and easy to move in. And when she saw the child's bare body, she understood. The face was Seon-a's — but this child was a girl. Seon-a's features had always been so fine that telling boy from girl had never been easy. A child who took after a beautiful father: it made perfect sense.
From the bathroom she brought a towel and a basin of warm water. Monster or not, she could not simply watch a child suffer. Yura tended her through the labored little moans until the girl woke — and then, worn down by her own fatigue, she fell asleep beside her.
A sudden, violent cry jolted Yura awake.
"Dad! Dad!… No — I can't do it alone… Ah…"
The owner of that voice stopped thrashing, seemed to realize it had been a dream, and then — with that small head of hers — began trying to take in the situation she found herself in. She registered the master bedroom, and looked as though she meant to work out where she was and who the woman sleeping beside her might be.
Ah…
Thinking of Seon-a as a child, Yura caught herself expecting this girl to behave the same way — and was startled by the thought. She had been overlaying Seon-a's unchildlike, sharp-minded childhood self onto another child entirely.
Before the confused little girl could ask, she needed to say who she was.
"Hello, little one. Auntie's name is Yura. What's your name?"
"You're not supposed to go with strangers… Wait — is Auntie's name Park Yura?"
The child spoke as if she already knew her. How could that be? Hiding her surprise, Yura answered.
"That's right. This auntie's name is Park Yura. Will you tell me more?"
The child did not trust her completely, but the name Yura had offered first seemed to carry enough weight that she went on.
"Dad said… if I ever got to Earth… no — if I got to Korea, I should go to a police station, say Auntie's name, and come to Auntie's house…"
Her phrasing was careful, as though she were trying to hide that she had come from another world — as though she believed no one knew she had crossed through a Gate. She seemed unaware that they had come face to face just before she collapsed. Her consciousness must have failed after Yura arrived. But if Yura spoke of that now, the child would only grow wary, so she chose not to bring it up. If this child who so resembled Seon-a vanished, she herself would lose something precious.
Then a perfectly ordinary thought struck her, and she put the question to the girl.
"Ah — come to think of it, I still haven't heard your name. What is it?"
She had never asked. Calling her "little one" forever was a little awkward; she wanted the girl's name so they could speak more easily.
"Oh… I realize I still haven't said my name. I'm sorry. I'm Lee Yena."
The earlier rambling was gone. In its place came clear, precise sentences that carried the shape of the child's own thoughts. Seon-a's childhood composure — that grown-up quality — showed itself in the girl. In Yena.
Memories of Seon-a rose so sharply that Yura fell silent. Yena, trying to break the stillness, spoke carefully.
"Where… is this?"
Yura felt a twinge of guilt for having drifted into other thoughts with someone sitting right in front of her. She took a moment to gather herself, then answered.
"This is Auntie's house. But tell me — what is Yena's father's name?"
"Ah… I made it here just like Dad said… If I wait here… Dad will…"
Her voice broke into sobs. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes. She wiped them on her sleeve and, forcing herself to answer what she had been asked, began to speak.
"Ah… Dad's name… Huh?… High-capacity seed-spreader?… Semen dispenser?…"
Yena murmured the titles under her breath, as if sorting through them in confusion.
"No… Ah… He said Seon-a. Of all the things Mom used to call him, that was the only one that sounded like a real name."
High-capacity seed-spreader? Semen dispenser?
Ah… Seon-a…
Hearing Yena's words, Yura barely managed to hold her reeling mind together. She could picture him — poor Seon-a, who had already suffered those unspeakable things at Yurin's hands, only to be dragged into the Demon Realm and endure the same all over again. And from what she had just heard, she was now certain: this child's mother was a monster. Whether monsters truly used such words was a question that still niggled at her — but the most important thing was to learn everything Yena knew about Seon-a. For years there had been no room to form an expedition, yet she still carried a private hunger to know, at the very least, what Seon-a's final days had looked like. Only then, she thought, might her own heart find some peace.
"Yena… why did Seon-a — why did your dad tell you to come to Auntie's house?"
"Dad said… if I asked Auntie for help, you would listen. And… he promised he would come to this house to get me himself."
Ah… Could Seon-a truly come back?
That Yena had crossed from beyond the Gate suggested it was not impossible. And yet she still could not understand how Yena — a monster — had managed to reach Earth at all. If Yena could pass through a Gate and emerge on this side, then when Seon-a sent her through, could he not have come with her?
Why leave it for later?
None of the questions rising in her mind was one Yena could answer. No one but Seon-a himself could resolve this mystery.