Yejun shook his head. “The vast majority of ripple effects are inconsequential. Most butterflies don’t actually cause typhoons all on their own. A lot of factors have to line up for the typhoon to happen, and the butterfly is only one of them. It’s actually not that hard to implement change without negative effects if you know what you’re doing. The problem is, back when they first discovered time magic, no one knew what they were doing.”
I blinked as his words sank in. It was so contrary to everything I’d learned in my descendant classes. “Then why do they teach us to be so neutral and obey the ‘almighty timeline’?” I said.
Yejun rolled his eyes. “Because they don’t want you making changes on your own.Theywant to be the ones who call the shots.”Then he straightened up and glanced at his watch. “But at any rate, the sushi in and of itself isn’t going to save the ferry. The watermelons should help with that.”
“Watermelons?” I echoed.
“Don’t worry about that yet,” he said, standing up. “I only calculated for a half-hour meal, so we should go back. Meet me in the bathroom in five.”
He went up front to pay, and after four awkward minutes sitting alone, I followed him to the accessible restroom. I knocked twice, then Yejun cracked the door open and glanced around the hallway before letting me in and locking the door behind us.
“Duty calls,” he said, smiling half-heartedly and holding out his hand. I reached for him, part of me alarmed at how natural the gesture felt, how familiar I now was with the color of his magic, the way it felt like silk caressing my skin and sunlight blooming in my bones.
The mirror shattered.
Yejun shielded his face as shards flew at both of us, white light spilling from behind the mirror like a dam unstopped. Whiteness crashed through the bathroom, peeling color from the walls, ripping up the tiles.Another paradox, I thought, scrambling back against the far wall.
Then the floor tiles disintegrated, and I dropped into the void.
Instantly, my whole body went numb. My mouth tasted like static, my vision blurry and monochrome. Below me, a vast canyon of nothingness yawned open like a stark white sea. Wind roared in my ears, tearing my hair in front of me, which I could see was slowly turning white.
A hand closed around my wrist, halting my fall.
Yejun was perched on the edge of the hole in the bathroom floor, holding me up. Blue light sparked between our skin, his warmth spreading through me. His eyes were wide, a screaming wind whipping his hair around his face.
“We have to go!” he shouted, sending a pulse of magic toward me.
I tried to move my hand toward the box of time magic in my pocket, but everything had gone numb.
“I can’t move!” I said.
“Try!” Yejun said, looking around desperately.
The wind tore out my ponytail holder, more of my hair turning silver as it blew in front of my face. My feet were completely numb now, like they weren’t there at all. What would happen if I was sucked into a paradox? Would it be just like being erased? Or would the timeline chew me up and spit me out in spaghetti strands?
Hana, I thought desperately.You said you’d protect me.
Warmth surged through my hand, brighter than before. My hair blew out of my line of vision, and there was Yejun, forcing more time magic into me.
“The descendants will be able to track you!” I said, shaking my head. Wasn’t that the whole point of working together? Past a certain threshold, he would light up like a Christmas tree on the agency’s radar.
The wind spiraled even louder around us. The only light I could see anymore was Yejun’s eyes, searing blue from time magic. The only thing I could feel was his claws hooked into my wrist, tethering me to him, blood running down my forearm. He closed his eyes, whispering something to himself, and then a wave of time magic surged into my bloodstream.
It felt like Yejun had breathed me into his soul. His heart unfolded and lush green mountains filled the horizon, stark white skies blooming overhead. He was a thousand quiet summer mornings and warm citron tea, the scent of white silk drying on a line beneath the afternoon sun, soft grass and forbidden hope.
But the sun fell below the horizon, shadows suffocating the bright sky. There was that bone-deep ache of sadness that I’d glimpsed before, but this time it screamed within the tight cage of my bones.Yejun’s human face could pretend to be confident and careless, but the map of his soul whispered the truth to me.
The ground turned to glass between my feet, broken shards biting into my soles and plummeting into an abyss of hungry darkness. Gray clouds blurred my vision, choking me with freezing water, and I didn’t realize until it was too late that I was tumbling into the empty sky.
And there, beyond the clouds, was…me.
There I was, asleep in a library on Yejun’s shoulder as he read a book by warm lamplight. It was a moment that had never happened, but somehow I could feel the lamp’s gentle glow, the scent of old paper, the softness of the blanket he draped over my shoulders.
And there I was again, sipping coffee across from Yejun at a café, walking beside him along the stream, pressed close to him in a packed subway car. They were moments I’d never lived, days that had never happened, yet each one felt glass-sharp in its vividness. Were these Yejun’s dreams? The wishes he hid deep inside his heart? Somehow, I had a home within Yejun’s soul.
I stepped into myself, no longer watching from above but beside him in a whispering field of silver grass beneath a white sky.
Mina, his soul said as he tucked my hair behind my ear, his touch as gentle as the silken grass swaying around us. I had the name of a spy and a liar, but from Yejun’s lips, it sounded bright and true. I moved closer, letting him pull me in by my waist as he leaned over me and blocked the soft edge of the sun…
