“Talking to the moon.” She let her head rest on his shoulder. It fit perfectly in the curve of his neck.
“What about?”
“Just saying hello.”
“The moon isn’t very talkative,” Jihoon replied.
“It’s not what it says, but how.” She tilted her head back to look at him. “I was wondering when you’d find me.”
“It’s easy with this.” He held up the thread. It faded into the night, dissolving now that its purpose was served.
“A red thread. Are you my soul mate, Jihoon-ah?”
He grinned at the old myth: A red string ties together two fated souls.
“Do you want my heart?” he asked. “It’s pretty battered.”
“You already hold mine.” Miyoung offered her lips to him. He accepted them with a soft kiss, smiling before he leaned back.
Something wet, tasting of salt and metal, dripped down his lips onto his tongue. He dabbed at it and his fingers came away red.
His eyes shot to Miyoung. Blood poured from her nose, making trails down her chin dripping into her lap.
“I can’t stay,” she said, apology thick in her voice.
“You can’t leave,” he said. “I need answers.”
“Answers?” She looked pale, almost transparent.
“My halmeoni is sick.”
“What?” The word sounded harsh as it echoed around him.
“What did your mother do? Please tell me. Please help us.”
Jihoon reached out.
His hands clutched air.
She disappeared. And Jihoon was alone, with nothing but the moon for company.
42
MIYOUNG WOKE WITH a start, her heart beating so fast she felt it in her fingertips.
It had been another vivid dream. The kind that made her suspect it was more than just memories and longing. The kind that made her think he was really there. But this time something worried her, and she needed to sift through the already fading dream to find it again.
She sat up, ignoring the protest of her aching muscles. Her body felt stiff, like she’d run a marathon. She reached out for water.
The glass on her nightstand was empty.
The apartment was silent as Miyoung padded down the hall.
Shuffling into the kitchen, she refilled her glass. For the last month she never felt completely full. Nothing could quell the gnawing hunger in her belly. And they’d gone through a lot of groceries as Miyoung ate day and night. But she knew the one thing that would end the hunger was gi.
She gulped down more water, tilting her head back for the last drops when the light turned on.
“Turn it off,” she growled.
She watched, annoyed, as Junu opened the fridge, using it to push Miyoung aside.
The light from the refrigerator accented the planes of his face. His clear complexion looked perfect even in the harsh glare.
“You’re such a grouch in the morning.” Junu pulled out orange juice.
“You’re such a jerk always.” Miyoung replaced the water. “When are you going to get out of my apartment?”
“When your mother stops paying me to babysit her little darling. Your mother’s offers are hard to pass up. What kind of fool would say no to an all-expense-paid trip?” Junu sipped the juice and pulled out a slice of milk bread.
“Ya! That’s the last piece!”
“It’s the end piece,” he said, taking another huge bite. “You hate the end pieces.”
“Fine,” Miyoung conceded because he was right.
“Bad dream?” Junu asked.
Miyoung didn’t answer, which prompted Junu to poke her. “Jihoon?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m good at seeing when someone is heartsick,” Junu said with a sly smile.
“Oh, shove it.” Miyoung punched his shoulder.
He rubbed his arm indignantly. “Maybe I should ask for hazard pay.”
Miyoung frowned. She didn’t like that Junu knew Yena and apparently had for decades. It made all of her shady back-alley dealings with him seem worse somehow. But when her mother had needed someone who was good at getting information, someone who had connections in their world, she’d hired Junu. It had made for a tense first week where Miyoung wondered if Junu would bring up the Taoist talisman and Nara. But the dokkaebi seemed to know not to poke that hornet’s nest, even as he spent most of his days prodding at Miyoung a thousand other ways.
“Where’s my mother?”
“Hong Kong.”
“When’s she coming back?” Miyoung’s voice rose with surprise.
“She’s not. We’re supposed to meet her when her little angel is back from the brink of death.”
“Do you really think I’m dying?” Miyoung asked. It was a question she could never bring herself to ask Yena. But she thought Junu would give her a straight answer.
“Why don’t you just feed?”
So not a straight answer, but an answer nonetheless. He also thought she’d die if she didn’t absorb gi.