#mihyun

there was another baby on their way to their lives. an extension of the love nayeon has impulsively nurtured over the years for jihyo. so, how could nayeon ignore, or even be angry, when jihyo, despite hiding it from her, carried the extension of them? nayeon can’t resist her, and then all it takes for jihyo to make her speak again is the sweet promise that, if nayeon talked to her, she’d receive an even sweeter apology. of course jihyo appeals to nayeon’s weaknesses: her voice drips like honey against nayeon’s ear, and she’s beautiful. dolled up for nayeon, because nayeon deserved it. an hour without hearing nayeon’s voice had been just enough for jihyo to get ready for her.

moving backwards, to when nayeon had deafeningly rushed down the stairs with jisoo in her lap, nayeon was thrilled. she had cried and hugged jihyo tightly then, squishing jisoo between them, and only stopping when their angry baby (she definitely got that from jihyo, nayeon thinks) bit her. the pain was, in no way, felt by nayeon, who was numbed by sheer happiness. still, nayeon pulled away, only so to avoid jisoo from biting her again, as the grown baby’s tiny bunny teeth had already left scars on her before.

it was only after putting jisoo to bed that nayeon suddenly gave jihyo the cold shoulder.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

jisoo is fast asleep at that time, and the both of them were ready for bed. words don’t instantly come out from jihyo at nayeon’s grumble of a question, instead she presses her lips to nayeon’s puffed cheek and straddles her, perching on her lap prettily, because that was what she had promised nayeon she would do. give her a sweet, sweet apology that would make nayeon feel everything — but betrayed.

“should i be honest?” jihyo’s head tilts slightly to the side, like the angle was better to inspect nayeon’s face. it wasn’t, jihyo convinces herself it was, but she was all but preening for nayeon, with her hair down and big, doe eyes staring into nayeon’s. both devilish desire and intrinsic innocence were in jihyo’s eyes — she was beautiful, even without makeup. especially without makeup. nayeon loved to stare at her bare face, instantly fixated on the mole at the center of jihyo’s nose.

“yes. why does everyone know? even soo knew before me!” nayeon grunts, irritated. or she pretends to be — she definitely does, jihyo knows, because nayeon’s hands on her waist are as soft as they always were, showing no signs of imminent anger. nayeon is exhilarated. “it’s not fair, ji, they got to meet our baby before i did.”

jihyo is left out of words then, taken aback. “im nayeon,” jihyo calls. she exhales, the corners of her mouth raising in a subtle smile. “you are so cute.”

as quick as a blink, nayeon forgets about the main topic of their conversation. “well, that’s obvious.” nayeon brags, her ego hitting the sky at jihyo’s smallest praise. instead of rigid, the way her body had stayed when she was aiming for a serious talk with jihyo, nayeon becomes soft, arms readily encircling jihyo’s thin waist. “you fell for me because i’m cute.”

“no.” jihyo promptly denies. that too, im nayeon, jihyo thinks. if jihyo wasn’t ready for something else, something other than the pillow talk — that could happen later — she would’ve told nayeon that she was, in fat, the most incredible person she’d ever met. not to feed nayeon’s already big ego, but because nayeon was, truly, the best person in her life. but the pregnancy hormones were starting to be a bother, and jihyo almost can’t hold herself back when nayeon frowns and her bottom lip sticks out. nayeon was so cute that it aroused her. “i fell for you because of this.”

nayeon groans, not expecting jihyo to palm her so abruptly over her pants. looking down, nayeon confirms that jihyo’s hand was there. she was feeling the tight grip well enough, but looking at it seemed to make the feeling even better.

“ah, that’s a lie!” nayeon pulls away, hands finding support on the mattress, right behind her. the way she poses makes jihyo fall again — because, as shameful as it was, she loved how convinced nayeon was, how much of a show-off she could be, charmingly arrogant on that matter. with a sly smile and her tongue between her teeth, nayeon looked like a dream. “you said ‘i love you’ way before you even saw it.”

“did i?” jihyo asks as she makes her way off nayeon’s lap. nayeon doesn’t have to answer her question, it is nothing but jihyo’s way to dismiss the sudden topic, but as jihyo kneels in front of nayeon, nayeon thinks about many ways she could proudly tell jihyo that her cock was great, but she had definitely fallen for her cuteness first.

the answer never comes out, because soon the very subject of their conversation is in jihyo’s mouth, making nayeon forget once again where they should have been going with their late night talk — what was once a discussion about pregnancy. it doesn’t matter anyway, because nayeon would rather have her cock sucked, keeping her eyes on jihyo’s with rapture as she received her deserved apology.

so far, their youngest baby was doing well, resting calmly in their warm nest, not giving jihyo any trouble. compared to when she was pregnant with jisoo, not a lot had changed. the baby growing in her womb didn’t seem like they were going to be troublesome, and jihyo hoped things stayed like that until the end — she was still prepared for further turbulences, pregnancy was unpredictable, but up to that point, both jihyo and their baby were getting along well.

with pregnancy, some things change for the better, while other things leave jihyo with mixed feelings. if nayeon was already overly protective over her, it gets twice as worse. it’s cute, jihyo wouldn’t contest, receiving nayeon’s calls randomly throughout her days, having nayeon constantly checking up on her, wanting to be sure that jihyo was doing well, that the both of them were doing well. at times it becomes a nuisance: when nayeon forgets jihyo had already been there and that she knew how to take care of herself.

‘so far, so good’ is what jihyo answers as a reflex when she is asked about her pregnancy. the things that bothered her, she kept to herself and to nayeon, though some of her worries were still be sealed for herself only.

it was still too early to tell if her body was going to change the way it did with jisoo. jihyo worried, not about the eventual stretch marks that would appear on certain spots of her body or the weight gain, but about how she would feel when those things became her reality again. she wasn’t prepared for another baby — her body was, jihyo had never felt more whole, sincerely fulfilled with her small family, but the pregnancy was still sudden, and jihyo still had a lot to think about her current situation.

it’s overthinking, jihyo knows, she should be happy, and she was happy. at the same time, small things about their routine start to bother her.

the first time it happens, jihyo is dressing jisoo up for a birthday party, while she herself is wearing what she deemed being rags. the twins had been invited by a friend, and the chances of them going without their best friend jisoo were shallow — it was even better if they could bring more kids, the parent organizing the party had told jeongyeon.

“baby,” jihyo calls, gentle as she brushed jisoo’s hair. to jihyo’s relief, jisoo enjoyed having her hair at a shoulder length, short enough for jihyo not to have a hard time brushing it, but long enough for it to be styled diversely. “will you want pigtail braids or buns?”

jisoo is teetering between jihyo’s knees, standing just like nayeon — unable to keep still. jihyo had tried to convince her to sit down on a chair, with the argument that it would be better for brushing her hair and styling it, but jisoo was full of energy early in the morning. she’d been babbling to jihyo about what she and the twins had been up to at school while still deciding if she wanted her mom’s lap or to stand up and keep swaying back and forth.

“buns.” jisoo answers shortly after being interrupted in her little vent about how kyungwan, no, wannie, had learned how to fish after a camping trip with his moms and beom, and that she wanted to learn too. “why don’t we go camping too? mama told me you used to do that a lot, but you never took me with you!”

jihyo laughs, sensing jisoo’s pout despite not being able to see her face. “we did. you were an even smaller baby back then.”

jihyo wonders if she should break it to jisoo that they couldn’t fish at all. maybe nayeon would attempt to learn if jisoo really wanted it, but there were other activities, easier ones, that jisoo could engage with when they were camping, especially now that she had grown. she’d grown only a tiny bit since they last went camping, but a considerable bit. enough to help on basic tasks.

“can we go again?”

jihyo frowns at what she’s looking at — she could have sworn she’d do a better job with the buns, but while one looked perfect, the other bun wasn’t coming out the way she wanted.

“we can, baby. i bet your mama wants to go too. it’s been so long,” jihyo sighs, knowing that she wouldn’t achieve perfection for as long as jisoo kept standing unsteadily. “can you sit on mommy’s lap, baby?”

jihyo eventually gets what she wants, and jisoo looks like the cutest baby jihyo had ever seen — and the fact that she was her baby had nothing to do with it. even jeongyeon melted when jihyo showed up at the party with jisoo, and she only didn’t squish jihyo’s baby and filled her with kisses because jihyo didn’t want jeongyeon to ruin her hard work.

nayeon wasn’t there with them because she had to work. it wasn’t often that jihyo got a lighter schedule than nayeon, and jihyo wasn’t acquainted with hanging out with other parents. not as much as nayeon was, at least. perhaps she should have let jeongyeon take jisoo along with the twins and avoided the party, because it’s then, when they’re already there, that jihyo realizes that all of the other kids’ moms were terribly well dressed for a kid’s party, while jihyo had barely any makeup on her face and wore the simplest clothes she could find.

that is not what jeongyeon pays attention to, or anyone else but jihyo.

how the moms holding their newborns looked pretty, dolled up even, when jihyo hasn’t thought about ‘looking pretty’ in a while. what shouldn’t be a problem becomes one when jihyo realizes it had been weeks since she last wore makeup, which was something she liked to do, but had neglected because her time was short. impulsively, she had been paying more attention to jisoo, nayeon and her worries to realize that she had been repeating a situation that had already happened — when was pregnant with jisoo.

jeongyeon’s voice takes her back to the party. jihyo, who once had been quiet and observant, stuck in her own thoughts, looks at her friend, who had made her a question.

“for how long do you think she is going to take that bunny everywhere with her?” jeongyeon sounds interestingly curious as she looks at jisoo, who was playing with the twins and the birthday kid.

jihyo’s worries are no longer there when she catches her baby with a concentrated frown, small knuckles squeezing the blue bunny hard by its ears. jisoo was starting to hate losing, indicating jihyo and nayeon’s failure as mothers on that matter, but she looked adorable when she was upset with her scores. memory games have never looked so thrilling as it did when jisoo was playing them.

jihyo smiles, both at jeongyeon’s question and because of jisoo. “until nayeon gives her another bunny.”

it’s christmas when the first week of jihyo’s fourth month of pregnancy is starting.

at the living room of the house of the ims, there was jihyo and jeongyeon, who were both taking care of the decoration. at some point, jeongyeon asks to see how her youngest niece, or nephew, was doing, and so there jihyo was: standing with her (nayeon’s) hoodie lifted up to her ribs, showing jeongyeon her growing (barely) tummy.

“it’s uncomfortably small.” jeongyeon rants, kneeling in front of jihyo, face to face with her bare tummy. she doesn’t touch it, instead inspects it, like jihyo had an odd irregularity, doomed to having small bumps during her pregnancies. the cooing makes jihyo embarrassed and her lower lip puffs out — out of everything jeongyeon could have brought up to poke fun at her, she uses the one thing jihyo can’t control. “are you sure they’re im nayeon’s baby? they’re so shy!”

 “did you come early to make fun of my bump again?” jihyo lets out a huff of an answer, covering her stomach again. she watches as jeongyeon gets up, with an annoying smile, and almost bites jeongyeon’s hand when she reaches for her head, patting it softly, proudly, tender in a way that makes jihyo lose the pout.

“that was one of my goals,” jeongyeon teases. she leaves one last pat at the top of jihyo’s head, like jihyo was a baby cat who had done an adorable thing and deserved praises and pets. she’s like that because jihyo is pregnant, surely. jeongyeon definitely wouldn’t be that soft otherwise. it was not like she found jihyo genuinely cute and deserving of such treatment. “i think you’re becoming an adult, park.”

jihyo crosses her arms under her chest, eyes narrowing as she studies jeongyeon’s face, searching for any hints of sarcasm.

“i’m 30.” jihyo replies, categorically. there is a box with the decoration left sitting on the ground. jihyo kneels and searches for tree ornaments inside the box, and soon golden and white decoration is suddenly thrown at jeongyeon. “do something useful, yoo jeongyeon.”

nighttime arrives along with sana and tzuyu, who were the last guests to make their appearance at jihyo and nayeon’s house.

they didn’t always have their friends around on christmas, but that year jihyo figured dahyun and mina would like to have them around at that date. with that, she also invited the rest of her friends. thankfully, nayeon was too busy with dahyun and mina’s baby to pay attention to the fact that she was, once again, in the same room as minatozaki sana.

“how can she be so calm with you?” dahyun lets out a frustrated noise. kazuha had been irritated since the night had arrived, refusing to eat but pouting at the discomfort of sheer hunger. not even mina managed to get her to feed and they were starting to worry, until nayeon became aware of their problem and solved it as easily as she did everything else.

“she just loves auntie nayeon,” nayeon brags.

nayeon is standing as she keeps kazuha held firmly with one arm, the other guiding a bottle filled with warm milk to the baby’s hungry mouth, cooing at the little sounds kazuha made of content, lips wide as she smiled. nayeon had missed that experience — she thinks about jisoo, remembering the time when jisoo was as small as kazuha, her chest burning when she realizes that she would soon have that again in her life.

“no, i’m serious, unnie, what did you do to make her like this?!” dahyun asks, almost desperately. kazuha looks at her mom while vigorously sucking the silicon material at the top of the bottle that replaced mina as a food source, unaware of dahyun’s frustration, enjoying being held by nayeon so much that she accepted the food.

“i’m just too good, hyunie.” nayeon boasts about her baby whisperer abilities, laughing when dahyun lets her body weight fall fully against the couch, releasing what would be the cutest ‘unnie!’ nayeon had ever heard if it wasn’t for jihyo. “all you need to do is hold her right. as a fluent speaker of the baby language, i can translate what this little girl was whining about to you earlier. it went something like this: ‘mom, quit being a dumbass and hold me like pretty auntie nayeon does!’”

mina laughs, resting on the couch next to dahyun — she’d been quietly watching their interaction. mina earns a frown from dahyun, and in order to make up for laughing at nayeon’s silly antics, she holds dahyun’s hand, kissing her temple softly after muttering a small apology.

“do you want to hold her?” nayeon offers before dahyun gets to sulk, despite not really wanting to let go of the baby in her arms. as kazuha was dahyun and mina’s, the question had to be made, but if nayeon could, she’d gladly borrow kazuha for until jihyo was in labor. 

“won’t it bother her?” dahyun asks, reluctant after spending minutes trying to get kazuha to feed. “she looks so peaceful.”

nayeon shakes her head. “she will be fine. come on, stand up.”

while nayeon busies herself giving mina and dahyun the ultimate baby guide, at another corner of the room, jisoo is distracted with jeongyeon, momo, tzuyu and the twins — much to nayeon’s relief, because jisoo could be jealous when it came to her or jihyo with other kids, unless they were interacting with the twins.

jihyo is talking to sana somewhere else, not joining the others, because sana had questions for her. they were mostly about pregnancy, like sana was trying to get her information from the best person, but jihyo was far from being an expert regardless of having had jisoo and being currently pregnant.

what was once an in-depth conversation about what pregnancy felt like and how it affected her physically turns into jihyo sharing worries about having a depressive episode again. with sana, jihyo can talk about it without being pushed to tell nayeon whatever she was feeling, unlike jeongyeon, who would make jihyo open up. jeongyeon would do it only for jihyo’s best, of course, but sana allows jihyo to talk before she gets to say anything, which jihyo appreciates.

“i’m trying to prevent that from happening,” jihyo explains, trying to find the right words to express what she felt. “i’m not bothered with anything right now, because this time i was able to detect my mistake soon. like, a couple of weeks ago i was getting lazy with things i like to do, so i watched out for that, and i’m no longer forgetting to take care of myself too.”

“so there’s nothing wrong, right?” sana asks, careful as if she was dealing with a bomb that could burst at any second. nobody except nayeon knew what it was like when jihyo was at her worst while pregnant with jisoo, but their friends knew that it had a lot of impact on her. so sana is careful because she’s afraid of the answer she could get. her kind hand squeezes jihyo’s shoulder, as if giving her support, encouraging her to talk.

“nothing is wrong.” jihyo replies, her answer carrying certainty, honest as she speaks. “it’s just hard to think about the past knowing it could happen again. i don’t want to go through that again.”

“you won’t,” sana assures. like a magnet, she hugs jihyo. it’s as protective as when she hugs tzuyu, because that was sana’s way to comfort people. jihyo nods in her embrace, trusting everything sana told her. “it’s normal to worry, but you shouldn’t keep thinking about that. just keep being jihyo and you will be fine. and talk to nayeon. always.”

“it’s hard,” jihyo lets out a whine of an answer. “she will be worried too.”

“that’s what a wife is for,” sana pulls away, with a smile on her face. “better than anyone else, you know nayeon would want you to share what you’re feeling with her. so do that.”

jihyo sighs in defeat, about to say something when she feels a pair of arms around her waist. it was nayeon, of course. jihyo knew by heart.

“do what?” nayeon asks, holding jihyo protectively in her arms.

sana bites her lip mischievously before answering. “leave you and marry me, im nayeon.”

nayeon frowns at that, attempting to let go of jihyo, but jihyo grips nayeon’s arms before she gets to intimidate sana. “jihyo!”

“sana, i think tzuyu is calling you.” jihyo says, ignoring nayeon’s irritated whine. sana winks over nayeon’s direction before she leaves, and only when she joins the other girls does jihyo lets nayeon set herself free. “she was just playing around. it’s christmas, don’t sulk, im nayeon.”

“you let her tease me but you don’t let me fight back.” nayeon mutters grumpily, circling jihyo’s waist with her arms again once jihyo turns around to face her. “you’re lucky i’m madly in love with you, or else i’d be hurt.”

“i am very lucky.” jihyo bumps her nose into nayeon’s. her arms found themselves wrapped around nayeon’s neck the moment she was embraced by her, like it was her body’s nature to be with nayeon in that way. “will you build gingerbread houses with me, unnie?”

nayeon feels like her heart wouldn’t resist and erupt in her chest the longer she stared at jihyo and her big, starry eyes, which blinked adorably to persuade her. the sweet question is followed by a word she hasn’t heard from jihyo in way too long. unnie. jihyo does that on purpose, in order to make nayeon susceptible to be easily manipulated, and nayeon doesn’t attempt to fight it.

“i’ll do anything with you, babygirl.” nayeon relents.

“unnie,” jihyo does it again.

it’s late then and their friends were already gone — nayeon had a hard time giving a sleepy jisoo a shower, and she only did it because jihyo wouldn’t let her baby sleep unless she was clean. as a reward for her hard work, nayeon able to join the jihyo in the bathtub.

jihyo’s back is against nayeon’s front. there’s a silly duck floating on the water of their bathtub because nayeon had mistakenly taken it to their bathroom instead of putting it somewhere else to dry. jihyo was entertained with the toy, so nayeon wasn’t bothered enough to take it out of the water, letting jihyo stare at it as she rubbed her tummy.

the warmth is comfortable — the water is warmer than nayeon expected it to be, and allowing her muscles to relax felt like a prize. having jihyo in her arms made it all better, truly the best alternative to taking a shower by herself.

none of them wanted to leave the cozy place and jihyo didn’t want to disturb their silence, but she wouldn’t be able to sleep unless she spoke to nayeon about a certain topic. so jihyo moves her hands to nayeon’s knees. she’d been sitting snugly against nayeon, between her legs and the tender touch makes nayeon lay a kiss over her head.

“unnie, we need to talk.”

nayeon sighs. the tone jihyo uses leads nayeon to think she might have done something wrong — it’s the same voice she uses when she has to talk to jisoo about her behavior.

“before you say anything, i didn’t mean to snub momo and jeongyeon’s house,” nayeon refers to when they were playing with shaped biscuits and candy earlier, building their gingerbread houses. “i know you don’t like it when i, uhh… teach? these things to jisoo. but they were making fun of our house too!”

 jihyo can hardly stop herself from laughing. what nayeon says takes her by surprise, as she didn’t remember nayeon saying or doing anything bad towards their friends — nayeon had just turned herself in, willingly. but jihyo doesn’t lose her focus.

“it’s not about that.” jihyo reassures. only then, jihyo notices nayeon had tensed up upon her call, because nayeon relaxes once she knows she’s not going to be scolded. “i wanted to tell you…” jihyo stops, and reformulates what she wanted to say. “share with you something that you should know.”

“is everything alright?” is the first thing nayeon asks, moving back just slightly to fix her posture. jihyo lays her head against nayeon’s shoulder, the position too comfortable for her to change it.

“mhm. it is. i figured i should tell you that i was feeling down recently,” jihyo continues. nayeon’s hand on her belly makes her feel safe to say anything — and it’s not like she’d ever not be safe with nayeon, but feeling nayeon that close, protecting her diligently, encouraged jihyo to speak. “i noticed that i was keeping myself busy with work, and jisoo, and you, so much that i was starting to stop doing basic things that i like to do.”

“baby,” nayeon says suddenly, tensing up again.

“it’s not what you’re thinking.” jihyo says in a hurry. she is forced to change her position to sit on nayeon’s lap, because that would be the only way she’d be able to look at her. there was nothing but care in nayeon’s eyes, jihyo observes as she fixes herself in a better position. “i’m talking to you about this because, in the future, i might forget that this pregnancy isn’t everything there is about me. i need you to check up on me, make sure i won’t go back to that place.”

nayeon nods, like she was letting jihyo know she understood her. nayeon was still concerned, her face no longer relaxed the way it was before. “are you sure that’s all?”

“that’s all.” jihyo answers sincerely. “nayeon, i don’t need you to worry.” warm fingers find themselves against nayeon’s neck, thumbs supporting nayeon’s chin, making nayeon look at her. “what i need is for you to make sure i won’t stop being me.” jihyo sighs, frustrated when she can’t find better words to tell nayeon to take care of her. “just… be im nayeon and make sure i’m park jihyo.”

“im jihyo.” nayeon corrects.

“im jihyo.” jihyo gives in. “do you understand what i’m trying to say?”

nayeon knows exactly what jihyo is trying to communicate to her — she will still be worried, that’s how nayeon was when it came to jihyo, but she wouldn’t let her worries consume her. that was just what nayeon was. she made things easy, which was exactly what jihyo needed in her life. someone to look at things from a brighter perspective.

nayeon lets out an agreeing hum. “do not worry. praise the babygirl. encourage her to do the activities she likes.” she makes a list, counting on her fingers the tasks she had to complete starting from that moment.

“that’s a way to put it.” jihyo smiles softly. “i love you, nayeon.”

“not more than i love you.” nayeon mutters, inching forward to kiss jihyo’s lips — she knows that once jihyo pulls away, they’d argue about who loved the other more, so nayeon makes the kiss longer, drowning in the sweetness of jihyo’s lips when there’s nobody (but a goofy yellow duck on the water) to witness it.

“minji.” nayeon says, suddenly, when they’re in bed and ready to bid their goodbyes to christmas. “i want our baby to be called minji.”

jihyo shakes her head in disapproval, her head against nayeon’s chest. the baby bump hardly prevents her from cuddling snugly with nayeon — what jeongyeon liked to constantly remind jihyo was true, it was small, barely noticeable, but the baby was healthy regardless of that.

“no. we already have a ‘ji’.” jihyo argues.

“but i like the ji!” nayeon whines. “how about yunjin?”

“we can have the yun, but not the ji again!” jihyo says, fatally determined. “what about yuna?” jihyo suggests. “wait… why are we fighting over girl names if you wanted a boy?”

“we need to think about two names. so if they’re a girl, i want them to be called either minji. or yunjin. oh, how about kyujin? i like that one! there’s also jiwoo…” nayeon rambles as fast as she possibly can, excited with the idea of collecting ‘ji’s in her life. “if they’re a boy, his name can be just jin! or jinyoung, if we want something more elaborated. woojin is another option…”

jihyo yawns, giving up on her attempt to keep up with nayeon’s blabber.

“now you’re just copying my name. and jisoo’s. jiwoo? be a little original, im nayeon.” jihyo mumbles, closing her eyes after giving nayeon her last reply.

“but i don’t like the yeon variants.” nayeon grumbles, fingers lost in jihyo’s hair as she caressed her scalp. she pouts, knowing it would be hard to convince jihyo to name their baby with the ji as an integrant syllable, but she wouldn’t give up. “just think about how cute it would be if we had a baby ji. you’re my jiji, jisoo is a mini ji, and the baby… are you sleeping?”

nayeon pokes at jihyo’s waist, receiving no answers from jihyo. all nayeon hears is the sound of her calm breathing, indicating that jihyo had, in fact, fallen asleep while she was talking to her. nayeon’s pout is even bigger then — she feels like jihyo is betraying her when jihyo doesn’t hear the things she wanted to say until the end, though it was only her fault, because she could never be straightforward, and jihyo was the only person patient enough to listen to her.

A sigh. Weary as it is, with exhaustion seeping through, it’s nothing new, unfortunately. Just the product of another late night.

The flash of the red alarm clock by her desk is enough to take her attention away from her current task.

2:47 am.

Again, nothing new. She often finds herself awake at these kinds of hours, toiling over some research paper or some case study that needs to be finished soon.

Tonight, it’s a project proposal regarding a gallery exhibit that’s aimed to target the masses through pieces on sociopolitical awareness.

Tomorrow, it’s a paper on color semantics and their effect on people when used for educational means.

And the day after that, it’s a case study that explores the exposure of a certain community near their area to visual and performance art.

Then after that…well, Dahyun doesn’t keep track of things that far ahead.

With another glance at her laptop, the blinking text cursor stares at her, almost tauntingly, as she rechecks the required word count for this paper.

2000 words. And she’s got around 1500 already done.

That merits some kind of reward, right?

With her skin itching and her teeth chewing on nothing, she puts her laptop on sleep.

Thankfully, there’s no one in her bed tonight to be disturbed. They probably all got the hint when Dahyun came home earlier in the night, alone and silent.

Her door creaks open, and the hallways of the apartment, her apartment, are only lit by the moonlight that twinkles through the windows.

Most of her tenants are nightly creatures, but in an effort to provide their landlord with the peace she needs at this hour, they refrain from making any noise. It’s something she’s grateful for, but it doesn’t really help, not when most nights she’s awake, and little can put her to sleep.

Her psych says it’s the insomnia.

Dahyun thinks it’s just the way the world works nowadays. That, and sleeping pills put a sour taste in her mouth. Literally and figuratively.

Slipping on a pair of shoes and sliding on a coat over her university hoodie and sweatpants, she steps out into the night, not really sure of where she’s headed, but hoping that the walk will be enough to take the energy out of her.

This is what happens most nights for Kim Dahyun, the Lady of the Sanctuary, as she struggles to get a good night’s rest.

And like most nights that this happens, a tenant slips out of their room, if only to wander after their wayward landlord.

Fallen (But not Alone)

Near the apartment, a few blocks away, there’s another apartment complex. It’s abandoned, with ruined rooms and decaying paint, but it’s still structurally sound.

Enough for children to wander into and play out their childhood fantasies in an urban wasteland. Enough for teens to claim a few empty rooms on their own, tagging the walls with graffiti and living it up with their friends. Enough for young adults to stay and take a breather when they need a break from it all.

Which is what Dahyun’s doing.

She’s midway up the stairs to the rooftop when she hears the ever subtle flapping of wings.

Given that there are three beings in the apartment with the capability of supernatural flight, Dahyun’s learned to tell them apart.

This one comes gently, like the falling of feathers onto skin, caring and nurturing. The sound her wings make are barely a sound, if only to let Dahyun know that she is near.

Dahyun says nothing when she hears a second pair of footsteps follow her, up until she opens the door to the roof.

Out here, in the city, the night sky is but a pale image of what it is meant to be, with the light pollution blotting out the stars in the sky, and the clouds of smog that dot the horizon.

Her hand slides into her pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter.

It is only then that the voice speaks.

“Think I could bum one off you?”

Dahyun doesn’t try to stifle the chuckle that leaves her throat.

“Fallen angels don’t have a predisposition to cancer?”

Jeongyeon sidles up to her, stepping next to where Dahyun’s postured herself, in front of the barrier that overlooks the edge of the building.

As always, the fallen angel has elected to dress simply. Almost like a college student, she’s wearing a simple hoodie folded up to the elbows, comfy pajama pants, and soft sandals. Her short hair rests comfortably on her neck as she smiles at Dahyun.

“Nah. Part of the whole ancient divinity kind of deal.”

Her fingers swipe a cigarette from the open box, as Dahyun flicks on the lighter. The small flame comes up to the stick in Dahyun’s mouth, as she puffs out a cloud of smoke.

With a smooth inhale, the end of Jeongyeon’s cigarette ignites on its own.

“Kind of takes the thrill out of it, doesn’t it?”

Jeongyeon shrugs.

“A little bit. But when you get to my age, there’s little thrill in anything.”

Dahyun’s eyes regard the stars, twinkling despite their distance. Jeongyeon merely follows the movement.

She was the first one Dahyun met, when she originally claimed the apartment. Jeongyeon had been there since the beginning, after all. Many of the ancient wards and glyphs that protected the building we crafted by her own hands.

It’s only been two years since then, since the deed to the apartment had been put in Dahyun’s name, since she moved to the city and found herself in charge of a supernatural sanctuary. It feels longer, like time stretched through syrup, waning and waxing slowly, almost painfully.

But thankfully, Jeongyeon’s been there through it all.

She’ll likely be there after it all too, when the apartment is passed onto another soul.

That’s years from now for Dahyun. But for Jeongyeon, it’s probably the blink of an eye.

“They called me the Angel of the Stars, y’know. Back when I was up there.”

Dahyun turns to her, flicking cigarette ash off the building.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that’s still what they call me. But back then, it meant a lot more.”

She rarely speaks of a time when her wings were as pure as the brightest day, before she had touched upon the earth, and before she had been bound to it. Dahyun listens.

“When I came into existence, I knew about them. Those countless constellations that dot the sky like holes in paper. They’re magnificent. Countless. Immeasurable. And yet, so far out of reach.”

She extends a hand to the sky, and for a moment, the clouds, the smog, the light, everything that hides the stars away from the world, vanishes.

And for a moment, Dahyun can see them all.

Glittering, sparkling, twinkling.

Light shines from even the farthest of them.

Thousands and upon thousands of stars.

All unique, no two alike.

It’s beautiful.

But it is only for a moment, and the darkness in the sky seeps back in as Jeongyeon chuckles.

“Funny that Father decided to put so much effort into such a vast universe, but decided to center his sights on this planet, no?”

Dahyun agrees.

Why this planet? Why this silly little rock in space, with the prevalent creature being a misshapen, angry, chaotic creature that laid waste to everything in sight? What was so special about humans that God decided to favor them so?

“I questioned it too, once. ‘Why them, Father?’ I asked. ‘What makes them so special?’ And as always, His answer was as cryptic as it is.”

Dahyun turns to Jeongyeon, only to see her already staring at her, a creature so small and insignificant, she could burn in Jeongyeon’s light if she willed it.

But instead, her eyes twinkled, like those faraway stars.

“See for yourself, He said. So I did. Willingly watched as my wings turned black for descending to Earth, and I watched. The Grigori, they called us. Watchers of Mankind.”

Jeongyeon’s hand dances along Dahyun’s wrist, before grasping softly.

“And He was right. There’s no one, nothing out there like you.”

She pulls it up, pressing her lips softly to the back of Dahyun’s palm. In an instant, her weary shoulders feel freer, and her body lifts with a natural energy to it, as if the restraints that shackled her down have been disposed of.

“No one out there like you, Dahyun.” Jeongyeon repeats.

Dahyun says nothing. Because she can say nothing. No words can amount to the wonder, affection, and confusion that Dahyun feels, knowing that such an ancient, divine, and powerful being has fallen at her knees and professed their most ardent of affection towards her.

Jeongyeon is the Angel of Stars, the Burning Light, Kokabiel. A being that willingly fell from heaven, if only to protect and nurture humanity from what darkness lies in the corners of the earth. Her kindness knows no bounds. Her care extends to all. Her love is unadulterated and pure. There is no other being like her in existence.

While she is just Kim Dahyun. A struggling college senior, trying to make it day by day. One amongst many. A dot in a sea of faceless names and nameless faces. What makes her so special? There is nothing unique about Kim Dahyun.

Yet, the way Jeongyeon looks at her, as if every secret known to man is inside her eyes, tells her otherwise.

And if Jeongyeon can see it somehow, maybe that just means Dahyun hasn’t looked hard enough.

Jeongyeon leans forward, and her lips press against Dahyun’s cheek ever so slowly. Her other hand caresses against Dahyun’s face, with so much care and affection.

When she moves away, Dahyun’s breath is stolen away, her lips curving into a helpless smile.

“Let’s go back home.”

Jeongyeon bows, disposing of her cigarette. Their hands don’t separate, all the way down the stairs of the building, to the apartment door.

When they arrive at the apartment, Jeongyeon pulls the sheets away, sinking into Dahyun’s bed, next to her.

They tuck each other in, fond smiles on each other’s faces.

“Good night, Dahyun. I love you.”

Dahyun’s smile twinkles, like a star.

“I love you too, Jeong.”

Wandering (But not Lost)

The park near the apartment is always open. The gates are never locked, and the guard post at the entrance is almost always void of any personnel.

But that doesn’t mean it’s not well taken care of. As far as Dahyun knows, there’s a caretaker here, who cares for the trees, the shrubs, the pathways, the grass, all to make sure that at least a corner of their community is inviting and pleasant.

It’s a small park, but in the morning and the afternoons, there are always people to find here. Active folk that jog around the paths. Elderly that stroll pleasantly amongst the flowers. Young lovers that hide away amongst the bushes.

Dahyun’s seen it all.

Tonight, it is quiet, which Dahyun is thankful for.

She begins her walk, and breathes in the nature around her.

Not too soon after, she hears the padding of paws against grass, and the soft panting of a wolf.

It is distinct to her, how every treading of paws is quiet, how every pant is subtle, how every movement is stealthed.

As if she does not want to be perceived.

Regardless, Dahyun’s hand outstretches next to her, and it’s only a few moments before fur tickles her palm.

“Hi, Momoring.”

There’s a small yip of acknowledgment from the black wolf.

In this form, Momo’s back reaches Dahyun’s chest, and if she cranes her neck upwards, she can lick Dahyun’s face with ease. With a sleek, yet long and muscular body, Dahyun could easily ride Momo’s back. Not that Momo would want her to.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Momo snorts, nudging her snout into Dahyun’s stomach.

“Hah…yeah, a little hypocritical of me.”

Her head tilts, looking up into Dahyun’s eyes.

“It’s the usual. I don’t…”

Dahyun pauses, and sighs.

“…I don’t wanna take the sleeping pills.”

There’s a quiet moment of understanding, where Momo acquiesces and continues to tread alongside her.

Momo has never rejected her. Not once. Through Dahyun’s worst moments since she’s started taking care of the apartment, Momo’s always just been at her side. Quiet, unmoving, but a comfort to behold.

She’s been like that since before Dahyun’s moved in.

“Momoring?”

Momo tilts her head to look back up at Dahyun.

“Can I hold your hand?”

If it were anyone else, Momo would whine quietly, tuck her tail between her legs, refuse by padding away.

But Dahyun rarely asks anything of her.

Momo pauses, only briefly, before her body begins to shift.

The transformation looks and sounds painful. Bones crack to reform, skin stretches and rips to reshape, organs shift and shrink to resize. It’s a gruesome process, one that shouldn’t be witnessed, but it happens in less than five seconds.

In five seconds, Momo stands before Dahyun, her human form still taller than Dahyun’s by a good few inches, messy and ruffled black hair down to her shoulders with bangs that almost cover her eyes. She’s always dressed the same when she shifts, a simple grey tanktop and black shorts. Scars litter her body, rippling whenever she flexes her muscles.

With gleaming silver eyes, Momo takes Dahyun’s hand.

“Is…is this okay?”

Her voice is never hoarse of lack of use, but it is always soft, barely heard over the din of the modern world.

But Dahyun makes the extra effort to hear it.

“Yeah. This is okay.”

A small smile comes to Momo’s face as her fingers swipe across Dahyun’s palm, as if trying to memorize the lines and calluses.

Together, they walk.

Momo keeps many of her lupine tendencies in human form, Dahyun’s realized. Her ears twitch at the slightest of sounds. Her nose perks up at any whisper of a scent. Her eyes track and follow any movement that comes across her attention.

With nothing else to focus on, and nothing else she’d rather focus on, Dahyun looks at Momo, the second longest staying resident of the Sanctuary.

“What was it like?”

Momo’s ear twitches in response, and her eyes turn to Dahyun’s, waiting for elaboration.

“Back then. Before…before everything.”

Momo has always been quiet. Never one to share, never one to open. Of the past two years, Dahyun has only ever learned of one thing from Momo’s past.

Before everything, before the Sanctuary, Momo had no name. She was simple referred to as Lupa, the she-wolf.

“It’s hard…to talk about.”

Momo strains. Her voice, already quiet, drops a decibel lower, barely able to be heard.

“I don’t want to force you.” Dahyun whispers back, as if trying to emulate her tenant. “You can tell me only if you want to.”

Momo’s eyes dart across the park, as if she’s seeing ghosts, shadows, trembles of a time long past, a time that has never been mentioned.

Dahyun is curious. But she would never let that get in the way of Momo’s pain.

“…before, I had a pack.”

She struggles to remember. Not because her memory has failed her, but because she has actively tried to forget.

“Two of them…I had two…pups. Then, they had pups. Many.”

They’ve long since stopped walking. They stand now on the tallest hill in the park, overlooking the rest of its green splendor basked in moonlight.

“Then…”

Flickers of a flame spark in Momo’s eyes, as if seeing something she shouldn’t be seeing. Not again.

“I lost them. All of them.”

With those simple words, uttered so quietly even the wind seemed to yell louder, Dahyun understands.

“I…left. And I—I searched. For something. Anything.”

In Dahyun’s eyes, Momo is still searching. Her eyes dart across the horizon constantly, and her body is always at unease, ready to move at the slightest hint of anything unsavory.

“Then you found Jeongyeon.”

Dahyun finishes, and it takes a moment of stunning silence before Momo nods.

There is more to it. But Dahyun has pushed enough tonight.

“Thank you, Momo.”

Momo doesn’t respond, but Dahyun isn’t expecting her to. She’s already gotten so much from her already, it wouldn’t be right to ask for more. Not when it caused her so much pain.

There are many things that Dahyun doesn’t know about Momo.

But the one thing that she does know is that Momo is her tenant.

And that means she needs to be protected.

Dahyun squeezes her hand.

“Home?”

Momo only nods.

They walk back, treading quietly through the park, back the way they came. Above them, the silvery moon hangs precariously in the sky, motes of light only barely managing to reach them amidst the clouds of the city.

When they get to the gate, Momo stops.

Dahyun turns back to look at her.

Behind Momo, the moon glows almost impossibly, casting a highlight to Momo’s form, making her presence much more ethereal, yet still as silent and as calm as the werewolf usually is.

“I am…okay now.”

The smile that barely protrudes on Momo’s face is telling, and Dahyun can’t help but smile back.

Momo’s hand travels from her side, haltingly, up to Dahyun’s face. Her fingers, scarred and callused, tread so gently across her skin, and Dahyun leans into the touch.

“…mi vita.”

She pulls forward, and Dahyun closes her eyes.

Lips press against her forehead, soft and radiant, like moonlight spilling out against a surface.

When Momo pulls away, it is with the utmost care and reverence, one that Dahyun is honored to receive and return in kind.

“Let’s get some sleep.”

That night, when Dahyun curls into her bed, arms scoop around her middle as a warm, human, body presses against her, the soft rumblings of a she-wolf lulling her to slumber.

Scarred (but not Wounded)

There is a canal that travels near the apartment. The water isn’t dirty by any means, but it would be inadvisable to drink it. By the sides of it are raised narrow walkways, allowing one to peer down into the canal that leads further down the borough.

It’s a shortcut that Dahyun passes through on the regular, on the way to school. It leads directly to a street that has an entrance to the subway system, so Dahyun usually ends up passing through either on the way to school or going back home.

She’s even almost fallen into the canal a few times, too sleepy to even walk properly.

That’s not the case now, as she gently treads on the walkway, no railings to guide her step, only the back walls of the building that close in on this little canal.

Sleep evades her, and for good reason. She’s been struggling with it, as of late. Mustering the energy to get up and work has been quite the feat, if only because of the extra work she’s had to put in because of college.

Now, no matter how much sleep she gets, she always wakes up tired and ready to go back to dreamland.

“My Lady?”

Effortless in her stealth, and perhaps one of two people in the apartment that is able to sneak up on Dahyun, the voice that comes from behind is regal in its chime, noble in its tone.

“Hiya, Satang.”

When she turns around, Sana curtsies, lifting the ends of her dress to announce her arrival. Her dress, more of a nightgown really, is laced with frills, crimson red highlights against a black fabric. Her hair is brushed immaculately, only serving to shine the gorgeous features of this creature of the night.

“It is beyond the hour of rest, my Lady. You should be in bed.”

Sana’s voice, ever so prim and proper, still manages to show the utmost of concern for Dahyun’s wellbeing.

“I know. I just can’t sleep. And the sleeping pills don’t help. I mean, I do fall asleep, but…”

Dahyun closes her eyes, and all she can recall are the flashes of lightning and thunder.

“…I get really bad dreams when I do.”

In an instant a hand is on hers. Grasping tenderly with a feather-like touch. Dahyun barely would have noticed it if she wasn’t so attuned to the care Sana placed into every touch of their skin.

“Then, my Lady, would it be too much to to ask you if I may accompany you on your stroll?”

Dahyun clenches on Sana’s hand, feeling the slight jump in Sana’s skin when she does.

“You don’t need to ask, Satang. It’s never too much from you.”

Sana hesitates, for just the slightest of moments. Then she inclines her head.

“Then I shall trouble you for tonight with my company.”

Dahyun has to chuckle at the stiff formality that always accompanies Sana’s speech.

It’s no surprise, considering it was how people spoke during Sana’s time. And as someone who used to be a noble of that time, a Countess, Sana’s probably never let go of the habit. Not that Dahyun would want her to. It’s one of her endearing traits.

“May I ask, my Lady?”

With Sana’s hand so daintily grasping hers, Dahyun turns to the vampire as they stroll down the canal’s walkways, with Sana on the side by the edge.

“What’s up?”

“What…troubles you in these dreams?”

Dahyun winces at the recollection. They are no ordinary dreams. They’re dreams that don’t make sense, don’t fit in with her current perception of the world.

“It’s different, a lot of the time. But…I always end up dying, somehow.”

It is then that Sana freezes, and with her skin already cool to the touch, it only chills Dahyun more when Sana looks, almost hauntingly at her.

“Your dreams…deal in death, my Lady?”

When Dahyun nods, Sana exhales a shaky sigh, and her grip on Dahyun’s hand loosens just the slightest bit.

“Different kinds. Sometimes, it’s a…a stab wound, or something. Sometimes, I’m burning. Sometimes, I’m poisoned. Other times, I’m…”

Dahyun kicks a pebble into the canal.

“…drowning.”

Sana stops in her tracks.

“Drowning?”

Dahyun doesn’t realize her breaths are just as shaky as Sana’s until she sighs.

“Yeah.”

When she looks up, Sana is staring, silently, into the canal.

“Are you okay?”

Sana immediately shakes her head.

“No, my Lady, I believe it is I that should be asking you that question.”

The one thing that Dahyun doesn’t like to do when it comes to her tenants is to assign stereotypes. But when it comes to Sana , one thing is for certain.

Just like the myths of the old vampires, Sana is absolutely terrified of treading into running water.

“It is…not a fate I would wish upon anyone.”

Dahyun comes to the conclusion immediately.

“You mean you…”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Sana exhales once more, eyes and fingers trembling at the gentle current that runs through the canal.

Dahyun had barely heard of Sana’s past life, before the apartment, but what she did know is that before everything, Sana had died. The life had left her body as cold as it was now.

As for how many times she died, that was another story entirely.

“It was terrifying, my Lady. The water would not stop running, and the current of the river was too strong for my body to resist. I could only be taken by the flow.”

Sana lets go of Dahyun’s hands, and she takes a slow, hesitant step towards the edge of the path, towards the canal.

“They had…they had tied weights to my ankles and wrists. Light enough to not sink me down to the bottom, but…heavy enough that I could not resurface. Iron shackles that…that tore at my skin. Blessed, I believe.”

Sana hugs her arms close to her chest, and despite all of her strength, her power, her impossible constitution, Dahyun can see nothing but a lost, scared young woman.

“I…I do not know how many times I…I passed in that river. Only that every time I awoke, the water would fill my lungs once more, and my end would come even quicker than before.”

Dahyun immediately rushes by Sana’s side, grasping her hand. The pain that suffuses Sana’s being almost courses through the connection of their skin.

“Sana, I…that’s awful.”

Perhaps, if Sana were younger, there would be tears at the recollection of such a brutal memory. But now, hardened by age and time, she can only smile wearily.

“What has happened to me has happened already. There is no turning back time and going back to such a dreadful memory. I can only be glad that I am where I am now.”

Sana turns to her, and in her eyes, Dahyun can see a fraction of that noblewoman who once stood before, before the horrifying fate she was forced to endure.

They called her Countess Carmilla, the first Vampire. But for such an honorable name, the things she had gone through because of it were close to inhumane.

And yet, despite it all, Sana smiles.

“I can only hope that by being by your side, your pain is relieved, my Lady. That you do not even dare to dream of the pain that I have gone through.”

Dahyun has to marvel at how a vampire, who by all rights is stronger, smarter, and more powerful than any other human, bows to her, her adoration for her Lady far exceeding that of anything she’s ever experienced.

“I can only hope my presence is enough for your weariness to subside.”

Dahyun brings her hands up to Sana’s cheeks, caressing them with a vivid disbelief that despite everything that has been done to her, Sana would still willingly choose to live amongst humans, if only to be with the one that she loved.

“It’s enough, Sana. More than enough.”

Sana faintly smiles, hand reaching up to hold Dahyun’s by her cheek.

“I am glad. It is all I can offer.”

“And it’s all I’m going to ask of you.”

Sana leans in, closing her eyes and pressing her lips against Dahyun’s.

Despite the chill of her skin, Dahyun has never felt so warm being in another’s presence like this. And when she pulls away, Dahyun almost chases after that warmth, the warmth that only Sana can provide.

“Shall we retire to our abode?”

Dahyun sighs, before nodding.

In one fell swoop, Sana’s arms scoop Dahyun up, the Lady of the Sanctuary letting out a small shriek of surprise as her hands hook around Sana’s neck.

“Sana! What’re you—”

“Hush, my Lady. Rest your body. I shall lay you to bed.”

Dahyun grumbles, but only for a little bit. It’s not too bad, being pampered by a vampire.

So, as she closes her eyes, she can distantly hear Sana humming a soft tune, one that sings of love and all of its hardships. And then, a soft whisper by the edge of her ear.

“My heart beats for you, my Lady.”

She goes to sleep dreamless.

Invisible (But not Forgotten)

The streets of the neighborhood Dahyun lives in are quite narrow. In the middle of the city, it’s in a nebulous area that’s urbanized enough to be quite populated and crowded, but not quite developed enough to be too heavily gentrified.

As a consequence of that, the buildings that surround the streets are only one to two storeys tall, a mix of apartment buildings and home businesses and restaurants that give the neighborhood a fairly simple feel, like an escape from the modern world while not treading too far from the conveniences of today.

It’s quiet as she walks along the roadside, air still faintly humid from this morning’s rainfall. There are still raindrops that coat the windows of cars parked on the curb, the faint smell of petrichor that lingers in the air, and the puddles that verge on every pothole in the road.

Dahyun stops in front of one such puddle on the sidewalk, a pricking feeling in her neck that raises a suspicion in her.

Her suspicion is confirmed when she catches a glimpse of a pure white dress, stained crimson, in the reflection of the puddle.

“Have you been following me this whole time, Minari?” Dahyun chuckles.

Mina only smiles, a beautiful one, as she walks closer to Dahyun in the reflection.

“You are not quite as sneaky as you believe you are, Lady Dahyun.”

When the apparition speaks, Dahyun can hear her voice, disembodied and echoey, from next to her ear. She turns, on pure habit, to greet her properly, only to see nothing there.

Still, she knows that Mina is with her. And that is enough for her.

“Walk with me?”

Dahyun glances back to the puddle, in time to see Mina bow her head.

“There is nothing I’d rather occupy my time with, Lady Dahyun.”

And with that, Dahyun continues walking forward.

It is an odd request, to ask a ghost to walk with you. Especially considering you wouldn’t be able to perceive their presence, beyond that of a cold chill down your spine and goosebumps rising on your skin.

But it is Mina, and Mina is always there, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

Dahyun catches glimpses of her as she walks down the street. In the mirrors of parked cars, the glass of building windows, the shine of metal streetlamps. It’s a great comfort to her, to know that she is not alone.

“Today seemed difficult, Lady Dahyun. You were working more than usual.”

It’s the truth. Today was definitely more tiring than most, and Dahyun would be lying if she said it didn’t weigh her down especially today.

“Tell me about it. Barely knew what I was doing today.”

Mina, in the reflection of a bicycle’s side mirror, tilts her head in confusion.

“How so?”

How? Can Dahyun really explain that in a way that someone else will understand? Still, it’s Mina, and she tries.

“It’s like…okay, imagine your mind has a lot of buttons and levers all over the walls.”

Mina nods, following along through the gleam of a bookstore window.

“Aaaand, each button or lever is a certain thing you need to do. Like, one button is you gotta take a proper shower, or another is you have to head to school to go to class, or…you gotta remember to pull on a lever to actually be able to physically socialize with someone.”

They come across a street crossing, and Dahyun unconsciously holds her hand out for Mina, even though there are no cars at this time of night, and Mina can’t even hold her hand properly.

When Dahyun feels a cold chill around her hand, only then does she cross the street.

“But sometimes, you don’t have the energy for all the buttons and switches and levers. Sometimes you can’t reach the buttons that have to do with work. Or, you forget to pull on the levers that are for eating meals. Or, you can’t find the switches that are for talking to the people you love.”

They reach the other end of the street, and Dahyun sighs, clenching her hand around nothing. The cold feeling intensifies, and she’s reminded she’s not alone.

“And then, there are those days you can’t. The buttons are stuck and won’t go down. The levers are too heavy to pull. The switches don’t do anything.”

She stops, in front of a car’s window, where Mina is standing next to her, hand enclasped around hers and eyes staring intently into her own.

“It’s…it’s like that.”

There’s a moment of silence, a moment where Dahyun is afraid she’s word-vomited too much and Mina doesn’t understand.

“Then…how was today, Lady Dahyun?”

A brief recollection of the day’s events has Dahyun scratching her head.

“Well, it was okay? The buttons and stuff…I could push them and switch them, but it took lots of energy to do. Enough that I was so absorbed in the fact of pushing the button down that I forgot to understand what it was I was pressing.”

It’s then that she realizes that what she’s saying makes absolutely no sense.

“Sorry, this is stupid. Probably makes no sense to you.”

Mina only smiles in the car window.

“It is not what it does for me that matters, Lady Dahyun. If explaining it in such a way that makes sense to you relieves some of the pressure that you experience, I would willingly listen.”

Dahyun’s side gets colder, as Mina steps closer to her, gently hooking her arm through hers.

“Even if I do not completely understand it.”

A chuckle leaves Dahyun’s lips, gratitude rising through her smile.

When she first moved into the apartment, the thought of living with a ghost, unseen unless caught in reflections, she was initially conscious of her surroundings, maybe a tad bit frightened.

But now, she can’t imagine the apartment without her.

“And if ever it should bother you that you may be burdening me with your words, there is nothing to be worried about, Lady Dahyun. I love hearing your voice.”

Mina is quiet. Not because she chooses to be, but because there is much she does not understand, and thus, not much to say.

Of all the tenants of the apartment, Mina is the only one that has no memory of her past.

Mina is Mina. That is all Dahyun, and the other tenants, are sure of.

“It…means a lot to me, Mina. Thank you.”

In the reflection, Mina’s gentle hand reaches out to tuck Dahyun’s hair back. It looks as if the air is moving her hair on its own, but Dahyun can only giggle.

Mina smiles, and presses her lips behind Dahyun’s ear.

It’s cold to the senses, but warm to the heart.

“I shall always listen to you, Lady Dahyun.”

With those words that are barely a whisper, Dahyun sighs, and with her sigh, expels a great amount of weight on her shoulders.

“Let’s go home, then. My legs are tired.”

Dahyun walks the rest of the way home, a lone girl strolling across the streets, with naught but a cold wind blowing after her.

Heavenly (But not Distant)

“Here’s your change.”

Dahyun forces a smile to the clerk behind the counter, probably an overworked and underpaid college student like her, judging by the youthful looks that are marred by eyebags and a grimace.

The bells of the convenience store jingle as she leaves. Outside, the more awake part of her neighborhood bustles, as quietly as it can. The main road crosses through here, and as such, the surrounding street’s littered with a number of 24/7 establishments that never cease to be awake.

Neon lights and brightly lit signs coat the surroundings, even though a car only comes passing through every few minutes. People that cross through here at this time, if they even do, are brisk and focused on their own business.

Despite everything, it’s still quiet, relatively.

She sits down on the curb, thankfully dry and clean, relatively.

As she’s opening a bag of chips, she hears the flapping of wings.

These wings are loud, uncaring of any passersby, and magnificent in their tone, like the thundering of an eagle’s feathers.

“Kim Dahyun.”

The accompanied voice is equally as magnificent.

Dahyun sighs, with exasperation, anticipating the lecture she’s about to receive.

“Hi, Tzu.”

“You are meant to be slumbering at this time.”

Dahyun turns, and there she is, Tzuyu, in all her glory.

A tight and high ponytail secures her long brown hair, her hardened features only enhancing her stoic beauty. As always, she’s dressed like an office worker, with a neat white button down, paired with a black tie, blazer, and pencil skirt. It doesn’t help that the already tall angel is wearing office heels that add a few centimeters.

“I know, I know.”

“That is not a healthy source of substance.”

The attention is directed to the bag of chips in Dahyun’s lap, as well as the bottle of soda next to her.

“…no, no, it’s not.”

“I shall dispose of them immediately.”

“Hold on—”

Before Dahyun can say anything, a blinding light surrounds her snack and her drink, and with a snapping noise that pops her ears, they vanish.

“…great,” Dahyun grumbles. “There goes my money.”

Tzuyu can only blink at the perceived negativity in her tone.

“You are…upset?”

“…y’know what? Yeah, Tzuyu. I am upset.”

Dahyun sees no reason to hide it. Not that she has to. Unfortunately as an angel of the heavens, Tzuyu has no concept of human grievances.

“It is dangerous, Kim Dahyun. If you ingest enough of this type of sustenance, then—”

That only makes Dahyun snap.

“I know, Tzu! I know! I know it’s unhealthy, that’s why I bought it! So that I can sit down, ignore all my problems, and stew in my own misery! So, can you get off my fucking back for once!?”

Dahyun breathes, heavily, as she recollects her breath. She only realizes then that she’s raised her voice, quickly glancing at Tzuyu.

The angel’s eyes are wide, taken aback, mouth slightly open, and she’s taken a step back.

“…God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—fuck…”

Resisting the urge to scream, Dahyun simply curses to herself.

“…I…I apologize.”

Tzuyu looks like a kicked puppy, standing the way she does, head bowed down, and lip quivering. It only punches Dahyun in the gut with a load of guilt.

“No, I…ugh, it’s my fault. I’m sorry, Tzu, I didn’t mean to yell.”

How stupid of her to let loose at Tzuyu, of all people, the one tenant in her apartment that’s more akin to a child than anyone else.

“Can you sit down with me, sweetie?”

Extending an olive branch, Dahyun pats the curb next to her, voice low and soothing.

When she does, she realizes that the bag of chips and the soda have silently appeared back where they used to be. It only makes Dahyun feel guiltier.

Tzuyu hesitates for a moment, a moment that makes Dahyun falter, but eventually she carefully sits down next to Dahyun.

The angel’s staring straight at her, wide, confused eyes that pinch at Dahyun’s heart. Eventually, she can’t take it, and turns her attention back to the snack.

“I was…not aware this was something humans did.”

“…no, it’s…well, maybe other people do it. I know I do it a lot."

Tzuyu tilts her head questioningly.

“You are miserable often?”

The innocent tone of Tzuyu’s voice makes Dahyun stop herself in her tracks. Really, of all people to let know about her anxieties, it had to be the one that didn’t understand the plight of existence.

“I…”

In that moment, she decides not to lie to Tzuyu.

“…yeah, I am, Tzuyu. I’m a pretty miserable person.”

“Why?”

She huffs a sigh.

“Why am I miserable? Geez, that’s a hard question to answer.”

There’s a way that Tzuyu’s questions are posed, so gently innocent and curious, that opens Dahyun up, and makes her want to actually tell the angel about her woes.

“You are the subject of many people’s affections. Your work is produced aptly and satisfactorily. You are not subjected to any sort of poverty. How are you miserable?”

Although, she shouldn’t be surprised. As far as Dahyun remembers, this is Tzuyu’s first time back on earth after centuries of staying in Heaven. Perhaps her definition of what a guardian angel is is a little outdated.

“Well…sometimes, I just am, Tzu. Like, my brain doesn’t work the way I want it to, sometimes. I get really sad all of a sudden. Or, I get really angry. And then it’s hard for me to do things properly. I don’t like that.”

Dahyun sighs. Who knew she’d have to spend her night explaining depression to a cosmic being that could snap her out of existence?

“Yeah, I know I have all of these things. And don’t get me wrong, I love all of that. I love all of you. Which is why I get frustrated when I’m sad, because there’s no reason for me to be sad. I just am.”

Tzuyu stays silent for a moment. A long moment, where Dahyun fears she’s overloaded the angel’s brain.

“So…eating unhealthy food relieves this misery?”

That’s a funny way of putting it, though not entirely untrue.

“Kind of? It’s more of…indulging myself in something I like relieves my mind. Keeps me calmer and stuff.”

Tzuyu nods in understanding, somehow.

“I understand. Then is there anything I would be able to assist you in indulging that would keep you calm?”

Of course. Even though Dahyun is in the worst mood tonight, and she just shouted at her, Tzuyu still has her at the top of her priorities.

When Tzuyu first descended from Heaven itself to declare herself as Dahyun’s guardian angel, she could scarcely believe it. She still remembers how it happened, too.

The ceiling of her apartment had broken in a burst of divine light, and Tzuyu, in her true form, had revealed herself, speaking in tongues that she couldn’t understand.

After yelling and cursing, she had finally reverted to a mortal form, and spoke a language she understood.

Barachiel, she said her name was. The Archangel of Blessings, and the Chief of Guardian Angels herself. Come to protect little ol’ Dahyun, who hurt herself on a daily basis tripping on nothing.

Recalling the memory, Dahyun only smiles.

“…you can indulge me with your presence, Tzu.”

Tzuyu blinks, and it looks as if she’s unaware that that’s an option.

“But you said you needed to indulge in something you like."

“Yeah, and I like you, dummy. Come here.”

Thankfully, Tzuyu obediently scootches closer to Dahyun, like a meek lamb. Dahyun intertwines her fingers with the angel.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, sweetie.”

Getting mad at Tzuyu is like yelling at a puppy, Dahyun’s realized, and she’d never want to do it again.

“No. I must take accountability for my mistakes. I was unaware of your needs and did not take your emotions into account. Your anger is justified.”

Dahyun sighs, leaning her head onto Tzuyu’s shoulder.

“That’s okay. You didn’t know. You were only worried about me.”

“Yes, but still—”

“Tzu, we’re going to be here all night if we keep apologizing to each other. Let’s just enjoy the quiet, okay?”

“…”

Dahyun hums, taking a chip out of the bag and chewing on it slowly.

Having a guardian angel was definitely not on her list of things she thought she’d be doing, but it’s happened, and she’s blessed that of all the angels in Heaven, it was Tzuyu that came down to her.

Another hand closes on top of hers.

“I…care about you very much, Kim Dahyun.”

Tzuyu’s voice is soft, almost as if she’s afraid of Heaven itself hearing it. She strokes Dahyun’s fingers, so gentle and fond, and Dahyun’s heart bursts with emotion.

“I care about you too, Tzu.”

The rest of the night is spent in silence on the curb, city lights illuminating the streets that surround the pair.

The next morning, Dahyun wakes up to a numerous amount of bags in her room, all containing the same chips she ate the night before.

Guilty (But not Irredeemable)

In the neighborhood Dahyun lives in, there is a church.

It’s honestly more of a chapel, really. Small and quaint and quite old, as far as Dahyun knows, there’s no designated minister or clergy that serves in the chapel. In fact, it’s pretty much abandoned, were it not for the few people that pass by every Sunday to pay their respects.

Dahyun herself isn’t religious. Which is a little ironic, because about two years ago, she just confirmed the existence of Heaven, Hell, God, and just about every other religion that existed. A little odd how they managed to coexist, but she doesn’t think too much about it.

Still, the chapel serves as a quiet and calm place to gather her thoughts and calm herself down.

When she enters, the only sources of light are a dull flickering lightbulb by the ceiling, and more than a few candles that are lit against the stone walls of the chapel.

Dahyun takes a seat, admiring the simple carving of Mother Mary into one of the recessions in the wall. Behind the simple altar, a plain wooden cross hangs from the wall.

At least here, she can get some semblance of peace.

Until she hears the flapping of wings. Batlike and eerie, echoing in the small chapel.

“Gotta hand it to you, babe. You pick the weirdest places to hang out.”

Suddenly an arm is around her shoulder, like an obnoxious boyfriend at the movies.

Dahyun rolls her eyes, but still curls up into the arm of the devil.

“Got tired of waiting around the apartment, Nayeonnie?”

Nayeon, the devil herself (or one of them, at least), shrugs. She’s always had a rather odd sense of fashion, with a loose grey sleeveless shirt, and black sweatpants that look comfy and casual. Her blonde hair’s loosely tied into a low ponytail, but strands of her bangs still get in the way of her face, of which the lower half is covered by a face mask.

“Jeong told us to give it a few hours, but I got impatient.”

“Of course, you did.”

Dahyun chuckles. It comes as no surprise to her that the tenants are worried about her. Hell, no matter what she does, they’ll be worried. A warmth in her chest rises when she thinks about them, and she smiles.

“So, what’s up? Why’re you in this arguably tasteless place?”

“I should be asking you that. How are you in here without getting hurt?”

“Babe, look at the state of this place. You really think someone’s in here maintaining the wards?”

Dahyun takes a look around. The pews are dusty, the floor is cracked, and the walls are barely keeping out the nighttime chill.

“Fair point.”

Nayeon only hums, not commenting on the fact that Dahyun’s avoiding the question, much to Dahyun’s gratitude.

“If you were to go back to the start of your day today, would you do anything differently?”

The question makes Dahyun blink. And think. Her day today was rather…uneventful, if you could call it that.

“Uh…I dunno. I didn’t…make any big decisions or anything, so I guess I’d do it the same way.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes, leaning back onto the pew.

“Really. Not a single thing you’d do differently?”

There’s a certain lackadaisical energy that Nayeon carries herself with, one that somehow makes Dahyun relax and feel more at home with herself. It’s comforting having Nayeon around, if she’s not too busy bickering with the two angels that also inhabit the apartment.

“Well, there’s no point in thinking about what you’d do differently when the day is over. I mean, it’s already over. What’re you gonna do?”

Nayeon’s body rumbles with a laugh.

“That’s true.”

Then she quiets down, eerily so.

“…yeah, that’s true.”

A brief moment of silence before she talks again.

“Fuck, I’m really bad at this whole comforting thing.”

Dahyun eyes her questioningly.

“Ugh, Jeong just mentioned you had a hard day, and I thought…well, maybe I can, y’know, comfort you or something, make you feel better. I don’t do anything around the apartment, so I might as well do this, right?”

At that, amusement rises to Dahyun’s cheeks as Nayeon turns her head away, clearly embarrassed. When their eyes meet, Nayeon scowls.

“Don’t give me that.” She warns. But Dahyun is too amused.

“Big bad devil worried about lil ol’ me?”

Red fills Nayeon’s cheeks at the tease as her scowl deepens.

“Knock it off. You’re lucky I’m even here.”

Dahyun understands the words as Nayeon doesn’t say them. She’s always been one of the most concerned about Dahyun’s wellbeing, even if she had trouble showing it. And Dahyun didn’t want to shame her for her shows of vulnerability.

Biting her tongue to stop herself from teasing further, Dahyun simply leans in closer.

“Yeah, I’m very lucky. Thank you, Nayeonnie.”

If possible, Nayeon’s face gets warmer.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Despite the callous tone to her voice, Nayeon leans in as well, closing her arms further around Dahyun and leaning her head on hers.

“Y’know…” Nayeon starts. “I could…I could do that for you, if you needed it. Restart the day? Make it so that…I don’t know, your day is better?”

Eager to please would be one of Nayeon’s main traits, even if she didn’t show it often. And Dahyun’s not surprised by it. In fact, it only reinforces the belief that Nayeon belongs in the apartment.

Even after everything she’s done.

“But then, we wouldn’t be here. Together.”

Nayeon tenses.

“Sometimes, there’s no easy fix to things. If something wrong happens, we just gotta truck through it and take responsibility for it.”

Of all of the inhabitants of the apartment, Nayeon’s probably one of the only ones that desperately needs to stay there, for her own protection.

Hell doesn’t take too kindly to runaway devils, after all.

“Stop saying things that make you seem wiser than me.”

Despite Nayeon rolling her eyes, Dahyun only senses the slight quiver to Nayeon’s arms.

Devils were born out of malice, hatred, and anger. The deepest pits of humanity’s dark side. But remembering how Nayeon looked when she found the apartment, wounded, scarred, and scared for her life, evil is not the first thing that came into Dahyun’s mind. Even when Tzuyu had declared her true identity.

Mephistopheles. The King of the Crossroads herself. The reason why so many humans had fallen to Hell. A devil that dealt in bargains in exchange for people’s souls. And not just any devil. The one deemed the best at damning souls to hell.

And despite that, Dahyun had welcomed her with open arms.

“Well, would you deny that I am?”

“Babe, I can gift people with the power of foresight. I don’t think you’re wiser than me.”

Dahyun chuckles, only snuggling further into Nayeon’s body.

“Plus, you let a devil come into your own apartment and live there. How smart can you be for that?”

And for a moment, Dahyun hears a sliver of it, hidden behind a facade of humor. Just a tiny bit of self-loathing.

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

Nayeon says nothing for a bit.

Until she reaches out, placing her hands on both of Dahyun’s cheeks, warm as they are.

Her lips press against the tip of Dahyun’s nose, gentle as if she’ll hurt her if she applies too much pressure.

“…no, I’m…I’m glad you did.”

Dahyun beams when Nayeon pulls away, a fond smile on her face.

“There you go. I’m wiser.”

Nayeon can only roll her eyes, but doesn’t deny anything.

“And you’re wrong, by the way. I think you’re great at comforting.”

It’s only a heartbeat of a moment, but Nayeon’s face stretches into wonder, amazement, and gratitude. Showing for a second the Nayeon that Dahyun knows is lying hidden under all the sarcasm, temperament, and guilt.

“Well, of course I am. Did you expect anything less?”

Then it’s back to regular old infuriating Nayeon.

“Of course you are, Nayeon.”

Dahyun chuckles.

“Let’s go home.”

“If that’s what you want, babe.”

When they head to bed later that night, Dahyun might be imagining it, but Nayeon’s arms cling to her a little tighter than usual.

Cunning (But not Evil)

Of all the places to head to in the middle of the night, a library was the last place Dahyun thought she’d end up in.

The library in their neighborhood was underfunded, underappreciated, and underrated. While they did have a great amount of books that were rare and hard to find, it didn’t mean that people went out of their way to look for the library.

Still, that doesn’t stop Dahyun from opening the doors to the library, thankfully open 24/7.

The librarian barely greets her, half-awake at the counter, as she strides past to her corner of the library.

Her corner of the library is a nook at the very corner of the building, where two bookshelves barely meet, and she can easily slide her small body into the space in between the two shelves. Lowering herself down to the ground, she pulls a random book from the shelf.

It honestly doesn’t really matter what book she reads, because she’s not reading them for the contents. Something to focus her attention on, something that’s not related at all to work, is exactly what she needs right now.

“Pssst.”

There’s a murmur of a voice from next to her.

When she turns to look, there’s a pure white mouse on the bookshelf, peering over to look at the book.

“Whatcha reading?”

Dahyun sighs, before closing the book and looking at the title.

“The Biology of Genies.”

The mouse skitters.

“Genies! Bleh. A bunch of scammers, really. You’re not allowed to ask for more wishes? Lame.”

Dahyun side-eyes the mouse.

“And you’d know a lot about scamming, wouldn’t you, Chaeng?”

The mouse leaps off the shelf, and in a whirlwind of a silhouette forming, Chaeyoung appears in the space the mouse used to be in.

Dressed in a pair of shorts, a simple print tee, and an unzipped jacket, the shapeshifter’s hair is flattened by a baseball cap, blonde hair drifting down her shoulders as she grins.

“Of course! I perfected the art!”

Grinning down at Dahyun, the shapeshifter puffs out her chest. It’s endearing, and Dahyun reaches out to pull Chaeyoung down to the ground. She acquiesces, sitting in front of Dahyun and smiling eagerly.

“So! Mind telling me what you’re doing in this boring place?”

Dahyun tucks the book away, knowing she’s not going to need it to be distracted.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She sighs. “Getting away from it all, I guess.”

Chaeyoung nods in understanding.

“I feel you. Sometimes, you need to get away from it all, y’know? Life’s too short to spend on stressful things!”

Dahyun raises an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you immortal?”

“That’s besides the point! The sentiment is the same. We should do something fun!”

The gleam in Chaeyoung’s eye is enough for Dahyun to immediately decline.

“Chaeyoung, your idea of fun is setting something on fire to scare the locals.”

“But that is fun! No one gets hurt too, it’s magic fire!”

A mischievous woman, Chaeyoung always was the source of some weird happenings in the neighborhood.

“Oh, like the time you made it so that that dude’s face was on the back of his head, just because he didn’t open the door for you?”

“It was temporary!”

“He had an inverted head for six months, Chaeng.”

“Like I said, temporary!”

Dahyun’s just chalked it up to Chaeyoung being out of her environment. She might be one of the most well-adjusted to modern society in the apartment, but that doesn’t mean she necessarily has human sensibilities.

“And what about the time you tried to curse someone’s car to make human-like noises?”

“Dude, that was hilarious!”

“You gave the car sentience on accident!"

“Still hilarious!”

“It drove away from the neighborhood screaming!”

“Okay, that was kinda creepy, I’ll admit. But still funny!”

Then again, considering where Chaeyoung had come from and her true nature, Dahyun shouldn’t be surprised. A god of mischief is bound to get into trouble no matter where she goes.

“Seriously, you need to keep a lower profile. You’re attracting attention to yourself.”

“Oh, I can handle it.”

“Really? And if your family comes looking for you?”

“They can’t do anything! I’m in the Sanctuary!”

“Still, Chaeyoung, you need to be more careful.”

“Ugh, stop nagging on me. You sound like my brother.”

With that, Chaeyoung crosses her arms and turns away, disgruntled and grumbling.

Stubborn and mischievous. A bad combo, especially when it came to Chaeyoung.

When a shapeshifter had shown up on her doorstep, looking for safety, she thought nothing of it.

When it was revealed that that shapeshifter was actually Loki, of the Norse pantheon, that’s when Dahyun had to actually pay attention.

Escaped from her prison and desperately seeking sanctuary, Chaeyoung had run away from her family, after everything they’d done to her. At first, Dahyun thought everything would be fine, but when Chaeyoung had shown her more…difficult tendencies, Dahyun had to adjust.

“Chaeng, you know I’m just worried about you, right?”

Chaeyoung refuses to answer, still turned away.

“It’s just dangerous for you to be putting yourself out there too much. Your family’s still looking for you, and if they were to find the Sanctuary, I’m not sure what I’d be able to do to protect you.”

Finally turning to her, Chaeyoung scowls.

“I don’t need protecting, Dahyun. I’m a god, for crying out loud.”

“And yet, you came to me when you were looking for help.”

There’s nothing Chaeyoung can say to that, so she doesn’t.

“It’s up to you. But I’d hate to see you in danger.”

Dahyun sighs. Chaeyoung is a hard person to deal with, but she would never wish harm on her.

“…ugh, fine.”

Chaeyoung crosses her arms, pouting.

“I’ll keep a low profile. There, are you happy?”

“Yes. Thank you, Chaeyoung.”

Dahyun smiles at the compromise, and leans in to kiss Chaeyoung, at the corner of her lips.

“Good. Because I told Jeongyeon this would only take a few minutes before I brought you back home.”

Chaeyoung stands, and it’s only then that Dahyun realizes.

“Wait…did you bait me into that conversation?”

The trickster god shrugs.

“I knew you’d never want to do anything fun. I figured if you were too busy worrying about me, it would take your mind off of whatever you’re worried about.”

What an underhanded tactic. Yet, it worked, and Dahyun can’t help but be both irritated and thankful at the same time.

“I guess I should know better than to try and argue with a god of mischief.”

Living up to her name, Chaeyoung smiles mischievously, with no small amount of warmth.

“You love me, though.”

She says it so arrogantly, so truthfully, and with such smugness that Dahyun can’t help but roll her eyes, take Chaeyoung’s outstretched hand, and stand up.

“Yes, I do, unfortunately. Let’s head back.”

“Wait, unfortunately?! The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what you think it means, Chaeng. Now stop fussing and let’s go.”

Thankfully, when they get home, Chaeyoung’s too lazy to keep the argument up, and they wind up sleeping in the lounge, a blanket tucked over their resting bodies on the couch.

Cynical (But not Hopeless)

There was a time when Dahyun was just a child, eager to visit her grandmother in the city.

Her grandmother who was the landlord of an apartment, in the middle of a curious neighborhood of the city.

An apartment that seemed to be home to all sorts of people, weird people. They all had their own eccentricities back then, and Dahyun was too young to judge them as anything but odd.

Her grandmother would always tell her to treat them with respect. The groundskeeper of the apartment, a young woman who seemed to perpetually have a broom in hand and a kindly smile. The larger-than-life black dog that never seemed to like her, always growling when she got near. The odd woman who always wore red dresses, sang beautifully, and only seemed to come out when the sun was gone. And many others.

At the time, she thought nothing of it.

Now, though, knowing everything, it seems as though her grandmother had known that the apartment was going to go to her.

When her grandmother had passed, her wish was to be buried in the graveyard in the neighborhood, a small detachment of the park that always seemed to be cared for, despite having no caretaker.

“Hey gramma.”

Which is where Dahyun’s found herself now.

The graveyard’s quiet, as graveyards usually are.

Dahyun comes here often, when there’s too much on her mind, and nothing to distract her.

She puts her hands together, and bows. She’s already exhausted everything she could say to her grandmother, and she was never really one to spend too much time talking about her day.

So, she merely pays her respects, whispers a faint ‘I love you’ and stands quietly.

Then she hears the footsteps behind her. Footsteps that are normally silent, but made obvious enough for her to notice.

“Ji?”

The footsteps come to a halt next to her, and with her body almost materializing out of the shadow, Jihyo stands solemnly.

“It is dangerous this time of night, my love.”

With a red tipped spear in hand, old and worn out but tight fitting leathers, and black hair braided down, Jihyo looks intimidating in the night.

But to Dahyun, Jihyo, with her soft features, round and shining eyes, lips curved into a frown, looks beautiful.

“Hi.”

At Dahyun’s voice, Jihyo sheathes her spear on her back, stepping closer.

“A burial ground is no safe place to be. A necromancer may give rise to the dead that rest here.”

Dahyun shakes her head.

“No, Jeongyeon keeps the wards up around this cemetery. It’s safe.”

Jihyo looks around, with more than a little suspicion, but bows her head in acquiescence.

“As thou wishest.”

Jihyo is from a different time, as they all are, and the question comes to Dahyun a little reluctantly.

“Ji, can I ask you something?"

Jihyo perks up.

“Anything, my love.”

“Well, this is a little sensitive…so I’d understand if you didn’t want to answer, but…”

There’s a moment of hesitation, but Dahyun ends up asking anyway.

“You knew me…like, in a previous life. Right?”

She can’t quite see Jihyo clearly in the darkness of the night, but what little moonlight does illuminate the graveyard shows how Jihyo’s body tenses momentarily.

“…that is correct. I knew thee in all thy lives.”

The concept of reincarnation is still something difficult to grasp for Dahyun, but she accepts anyway.

“What was…I…like?”

Jihyo inhales shakily, and Dahyun doesn’t hesitate to grab her hand.

“No need to answer if it’s difficult. I was just…curious, y’know?”

Jihyo’s eyes drift to the ground, and Dahyun thinks for a moment that she won’t answer.

“…thou wert always a hero.”

A hero?

“In thy first life…the life I first met, thy name was Cu Chulainn.”

The Hero of the Ulster Cycle. Dahyun doesn’t know much about Irish mythology, but the name does ring a bell.

“Thou wert…strong, compassionate, and loving. Thou wouldst fight for all that thou caredst for with everything thou hadst.”

That doesn’t sound like her at all. Now, Dahyun is just a little mouse that runs away from all her problems.

“And then…thou passed from this world fighting.”

Jihyo takes a moment, before looking up at her, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“And thou wouldst continue to do so, for every life that I had met.”

There is such sadness in her voice that it makes Dahyun ache.

“…I’m sorry.”

Jihyo shakes her head.

“No. Thou fought for what thou believedst in. I could never take that from thee.”

Her hand squeezes Jihyo’s.

“Mine only wish…is that I had known thee sooner.”

The amount of dedication that Jihyo has to her is amazing, when in reality Dahyun has done nothing to deserve it. Her previous lives may have been heroes, but the Dahyun of now is no hero.

“Dunno if I can live up to Cu Chulainn of all people. I can barely get through a school day.”

Jihyo suddenly grabs her other hand, startling her.

“No, my love. In this life, thou art the strongest, most compassionate, and most loving that I have ever known thee.”

Her eyes stare into Dahyun’s with such fiery truth that Dahyun has a hard time looking into them. Her chest warms, but her voice cracks.

“But Ji…I’m just…I’m just me.”

It’s then that Jihyo smiles, a rare gift that Dahyun receives.

“Perhaps that is what makes thee strong.”

Then Jihyo leans in, and Dahyun closes her eyes, feeling the spark of electricity that courses through her entire body as their lips meet, spreading warmth from her fingertips down to her toes.

Jihyo pulls away.

“Thy strength always comes from others, my love.”

Then, she kneels, head bowing down in respect and love.

“And if thou ever havest need of mine, thou only needst say the word. Now, and forever.”

Dahyun is stunned, and how could she not be? An immortal witch, basically proposing to her, offering up her strength for hers.

Scáthach may have been a legendary figure in mythology, but to Dahyun, she was just another woman that had her heart.

“God, you have no shame at all. Come on, get up.”

Jihyo stands, albeit reluctantly, looking up at Dahyun with expectation.

“Thanks, Ji. That makes me feel a bit better.”

“I am glad.”

Dahyun takes the hand of an immortal warrior, and smiles at her.

“Let’s head home.”

Tired (But not Resigned)

In all those other nights, Dahyun is accompanied by one of her tenants. Through stories, jokes, and love, she is comforted and kept warm.

This night, however, she is alone.

She passes by the abandoned apartment complex first. The rooftop is nice and peaceful, and the sky is clear, clear enough for her to catch a glimpse of a meteor shower in the far distance. The cigarette in her mouth calms her down, and the smoke is gentle and soothing.

The park is quiet, too. No one strolls along its paths except for her, and she catches a glimpse of a stray dog dozing off under a bush. She smiles, and continues her walk.

The canal’s stream is continuous, and pleasant white noise to her ears. Kicking pebbles into its stream, she squeals in delight when a particularly rapid current splashes her. It’s cool and awakening to the senses.

Strolling by the sidewalk, the streets are filled with a liminal feeling that secures her to the ground, as she runs through the roads with a certain carefree feeling rushing through her veins.

As she gets peckish, chips at the local convenience store are enough for her to sit down by the curb, and watch the neon lights buzz. Cars pass by with their gleaming headlights, and Dahyun takes a few pictures.

When she needs to rest, she does so at the chapel. She takes her time at each image of a saintly figure, lighting candles and wiping away grime and dirt with respect.

The library, open as always, is welcome to her, and she spends her time leafing through page after page of obscure, supernatural information that opens her mind to new possibilities.

At the graveyard, Dahyun lies down next to her grandmother’s grave. She talks, unlike before, to her grandmother, of her tiring day and her stressful work. It takes a while, but at the end of it all she’s more than a little relieved.

Then, when the sun is about to rise, Dahyun heads home.

A fulfilling night, one that’s successfully taken her mind off of everything.

But, a little empty.

Like something’s missing.

She sighs as she fits the key into the apartment door. When she twists it open, she’s greeted by a tall, imposing figure.

“Kim Dahyun.” It rumbles.

Dahyun smiles fondly. “Hi, Tzu.”

“Jeez, Tzu, you’re gonna scare the poor girl.”

Jeongyeon comes closing in, apron tied around her usual ensemble, eyebrows furrowed as she pulls Tzuyu away.

“She was gone for an extended amount of time.”

“Yes, yes, we were all worried.”

Jeongyeon smiles at Dahyun, from where she’s ushering Tzuyu off to the side.

“I made you some soup if you’re hungry. Healthy soup, by the way, not like those chips you ate.”

Dahyun has the dignity to be embarrassed, scratching the back of her head.

“Hey, let her live a little. Nothing wrong with pigging out every now and then.”

Nayeon, relaxing on one of the couches in the entry room of the apartment, winks at her.

“If you had your way, Nayeon, she’d always be eating unhealthily.”

“I mean, I could always just gift her with eternal youth, so it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

“Nay!”

“Okay, okay, I won’t.”

Dahyun feels the smile in her heart before it grows on her face.

She spends some time eating Jeongyeon’s soup, trying to fend off Tzuyu’s overbearing questions, and rolling her eyes at Nayeon’s sardonic humor.

As she’s stepping up the stairs, a ghostly white visage appears in one of the mirrors she’s strategically placed throughout the apartment.

“Lady Dahyun.”

There is an exasperated look on her face, and it’s one Dahyun is used to.

“Did Chaeyoung do something again?”

The ghost nods wearily.

A few moments later, Dahyun has a guinea pig in her hands, moving away from one of the apartment rooms.

“Hey! This is assault! Get your hands off my soft, pudgy, body!”

Mina sighs from wherever she is.

“You can always change back whenever you deem fit, Lady Chaeyoung.”

“Well, I like this form! And I like it when Dahyun carries me!”

“Then why are you complaining?”

After putting a reluctant Chaeyoung in Mina’s room, Dahyun strides through the hall, until the murmur of a soft song catches her attention.

Peering into one of the rooms, she smiles.

A large wolf’s head is perched upon a pale lady’s lap, the vampire humming softly as she gently drags her fingers through the wolf’s fur. The wolf rumbles in pleasure.

Sana looks up, pausing momentarily in her song. She smiles at Dahyun.

“Good evening, my lady.”

Momo opens one lazy eye, before exhaling through her nostrils in acknowledgment.

“I hope you had a lovely stroll.” Sana greets.

Dahyun smiles in return.

“I did, thank you, Satang.”

Momo lets out a whine of disappointment.

“Alright, alright.”

Sana chuckles, then continues to stroke through her fur, continuing her song.

When Dahyun gets up to her room, the shadows tremble slightly as a figure materializes in the corner of her bedroom.

“Was thine evening walk pleasant, my love?”

“…it was okay. A little empty.”

“Empty?”

“Something was missing.”

“Whatever could that be?”

Dahyun looks around her room, spotting the closed laptop and the papers strewn about her desk. From around the apartment, voices filter through faintly.

“Tzu, it’s just soup, it can’t hurt you!”

“It was of a heat that is dangerous to a mortal body.”

“Didn’t know you made your soup with hellfire, Jeong.”

“Mina, I swear, you’re such a buzzkill!”

“…if you get trapped in another divine seal, I’m not helping you.”

“Wait, I was kidding!”

“Lady Momo, I apologize, but would you be able to adjust your head? I cannot feel my legs.”

“Woof!”

Then, she smiles.

“Nah, it’s nothing. Let’s go to bed, Ji.”