I’d just dropped off my clothes and grabbed my school bag, then hurried outside so I wouldn’t risk running into Hyebin again. I’d planned to go home and study calculus until I crushed the shame of failing Hyebin under indefinite integrals, but it seemed that the universe had other plans for me.
Hyebin said descendants had predator senses, and while I doubted I could so much as scare a pigeon if my life depended on it, I still had an innate ability to sense when someone was watching or following me. Of course, one of the only dragon senses I’d inherited was paranoia.
I took a sudden left turn, and sure enough, the figure followed me. I could hear their fluttering heartbeat as I took off faster, speed-walking into the Eungam subway station. I rushed down the stairs and fumbled for my T-money card as I hurried through theturnstiles, just barely sliding through the train doors before they closed.
I watched the station flash away in the windows as the train glided smoothly into the dark tunnel. At last, there was silence.
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to move, clinging with sweaty hands to the metal pole. I thought of the neutralization mission, how maybe today was the day that sealed my fate as a failed descendant and now Hyebin and Hong Gildong were after me. I felt dizzy, so I pressed my forehead to the cool metal pole to ground myself.
When the doors opened up at Hapjeong Station, I hurried across the platform before I could get stuck behind any ajummas and vaulted up the stairs two at a time. I slipped through the closing doors of another train and dropped into the closest seat. If anyone was following me, I’d definitely lost them now. My heartbeat hammered in my chest as I imagined the feeling of my tortoiseshell box crunching between my teeth, scratching down my throat, my whole body turning to dust.
Then, as the train took off again, I heard it.
A heartbeat.
At the other end of the train, the shadow had found me.
I straightened up, suddenly wide awake with adrenaline. When the doors opened at Hongik University, I raced out of the car, past the subway bakery, past the vendors selling shoes, past the racks of discounted clothing that I nearly toppled as I tried to escape.
Mina, a voice whispered.
I froze, tripping the people behind me in the crowd.
If the descendants wanted me dead, they wouldn’t have given me time to run. I thought of the photograph in my backpack, the girl just about to turn around in the sunlight.
Maybe I wouldn’t have to find Hana. Maybe she would find me first.
A hand closed around my wrist.
I screamed, right in someone’s ear, and a man screamed back in mine. We fell against the tiled walls as I wrenched my arm away, reaching for my tortoiseshell box.
The stranger straightened up, his blond hair glowing white under the station lights.
“Kim Yejun?” I said, shoving my box back in my pocket. “You were following me?”
“Sorry, what? I think you just blew out my eardrums,” he said, jamming a pinky in his ear.
I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head. Though I’d wanted to personally feed him to Hyebin piece by piece yesterday, I’d take an annoying guy like him over a team of descendants trying to kill me any day.
I sighed and glanced at the exit. “I’m hungry,” I said, turning without another word and heading up the stairs
“Was that an invitation?” Yejun called after me, following even though I didn’t answer.
I squinted in the sunlight as I emerged from the station, turning away from the main road. Unlike the wide streets of Eunpyeong, Hongdae was an area for tourists, so all the stores and restaurants were crammed close together and stacked on top of each other. Colorful signs jutted out from every floor, advertising bakeries, BBQ restaurants, noraebangs, and themed cafés. Clothes racks spilled onto the streets under thin tents, right next to vendors selling hotteok and spiral potatoes on sticks. Hardly anyone drove through such a dense area, so the streets were filled with people instead of cars. Big cities often felt soulless, but here, under the kaleidoscope of neon lights and the scent of crispy chicken and pork belly, Hongdae had a beating heart.
I strode toward the center, winding my way through the crowd until I stopped in front of a restaurant with star-shaped paper lanterns in the windows.
“Are you coming?” I said, glancing over my shoulder.
Yejun took a hesitant step closer. “Is that okay?” he said.
It wasn’t, not really. But something about sitting in my cramped apartment all by myself when I was supposed to be working felt immensely pathetic.
“You’re paying,” I said, shoving the door open.
A waiter led me and Yejun around a narrow corner to a small room with cool, pulsing lights. There was no room for anything but booth seats on either side of the table, a window overlooking the street, and a button to summon the waiter. Seoul had lots of restaurants like these, which were ideal for discussing things you didn’t want just anyone to overhear.
Yejun slid into the booth across from me and set his bag down. “Mina,” he said, “I—”
