jaeyong is on his way home from visiting a friend when he sees a ghost.

he stops first, curious about a small crowd gathering, only to discover a street performer strumming away at his guitar, singing along to wonderwall by oasis. a classic. jaeyong lingers, listening, trying to judge his guitar technique, when he sees a familiar face out of the corner of his eye.

a familiar, dead face. a face that should be dead, anyway. kang jihoon.

at first, he wonders if he imagined it, if maybe subconsciously he is in mourning and wants to see him again, even though they just barely toed the line of friends before hoon’s death. no; he decides to trust himself, especially when he turns and sees that quickly retreating figure.

jaeyong quite literally stabbed hoon in the back last year. he thinks he would recognize it now.

he gets stuck in the crowd, but pushes through, and hoon is fast.

jaeyong already knows the truth in his heart.

it’s like daeyong, this denial, this belief that maybe, maybe, he did not become the enemy. for daeyong, it was maybe he really died. for hoon, it’s maybe he didn’t really die.

but no, jaeyong knows, deep down, that hoon did die. maybe he’s a werewolf, but jaeyong suspects vampire.

his heart drops into his stomach, and a deep sadness overtakes him, even as he rushes to catch up to the other hunter, or likely a former hunter now.

becoming what they hate is the cruelest fate. who did this to him? he’ll kill them. he will.

hoon turns into an alleyway. jaeyong picks up the pace, steps into the alley himself, and there, they are alone.

they’re right back where they started, too-- the alley where jaeyong did his best to kill hoon himself. “we have to quit meeting like this,” jaeyong jokes, but when he smiles, it’s sad.

he stands in uncharacteristic silence for too long, that mildly agonized look on his face, then adds, voice quiet: “they said you died...what happened?”