Yejun seemed to wonder the same thing, for as he caught me, one hand slid under my sweater and to my abdomen, worming beneath the Kevlar, his fingers cold against my skin. I knew, when I felt his fingers on smooth, unbroken skin, that it was only the fake blood.
I looked up at where Hana had been, but she was gone. I tried to recall her face, but with her hood down, I hadn’t gotten a good look, and now all I could imagine was a black hole, an abyss instead of answers.
Why would Hana shoot me?
I hated knowing so little about my sister. She’d used blanks, so clearly she wasn’t actually trying to kill me, but why would she shoot me at all?
The crowd had stilled at the sound of gunfire, and now everyone had spread out in a circle around me and Yejun.
“There’s blood!” someone shouted, prompting a few people to scream and start pushing away.
“Are you okay?” Yejun whispered, one hand cupping my cheek.
“I’m fine,” I whispered back, now that the ache had faded and I could breathe again. “We have to keep going.”
The crowd was screaming now. Some people were pushing, everyone rushing for the exit. The police were trying to force their way toward us but couldn’t make it far through the packed crowd. Yejun slipped one hand under my knees and lifted me up to avoid being crushed. I yelped in surprise, clinging to him so I wouldn’t fall. My face was definitely bright red as I realized how easily he carried me, which was a far cry from the bloodless look I was going for.
“You’re not doing a very good job at playing possum,” he whispered.
I managed to loosen my grip, then flopped over. He stumbled, struggling to adjust his hold, and I swore I’d kill him if he dropped me. He headed in the direction of headquarters, because that was what the supervising agent would want to see. By now, the crowd was screaming and shoving in all directions. Yejun tucked me closer to his chest, shielding me from the crowd.
Though I couldn’t see, I felt the change in temperature as he made it out of the crowd, ducking into the alley by the fruit market where there were no cameras, exactly as we’d planned.
He set me on my feet, his hands lingering over the fake blood, his expression pinched. I took his wrist and pressed it to my heart.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Just corn syrup. You can have a taste if you want.”
He laughed sharply and drew his hand back, then took his yeouiju from his pocket and placed it in my palm. “Do it now,” he said. “Before they catch up.”
My right hand closed around the ball of light, my left hand holding my own box of time magic. Blue light wound its way up my right arm, purple light spiraling up my left arm, the whole alley glowing indigo around us.
Yejun and I had shared magic so many times, but now I was holding his soul in my hand, and he’d given it to me like he hadn’t thought twice about it. I held it delicately, feeling the warm pulse of blue light in time with his heartbeat.I’ll take care of this, I thought.I promise.
“Go,” Yejun said with a smile, as if he’d heard my thoughts. “I’ll see you and Hana when you’re done.”
Then he stepped back, waving with a soft smile as the ribbons of light around me grew brighter, devouring the street and Yejun along with it.
I landed in an empty construction lot in the dark.
The bakery near the alley we’d been standing in hadn’t been built in 1988, so it eliminated the risk of me appearing on top of a customer. Around me, there was nothing but loose scaffolding and cinder blocks abandoned at night, remnants of coffee cups and footprints in the pale dirt.
I checked my watch.
1:58A.M.
Only two minutes until the timeline would reset, and I would find out for sure if the ladybug theory was right, or if the refresh would obliterate me.
If this doesn’t work, I’m going to die anyway, I thought, hiking my bag higher on my shoulder and stepping carefully out of the construction zone.
Eunpyeong was quiet this late at night. All the shops were different in 1988, and some tall buildings were mysteriously absent,but I recognized it in the same way I was certain I knew Hana. Even now, no matter how much had changed, it felt like my home.
I squatted behind a dumpster and quickly shed the Kevlar vest and bloody shirt, dumping both on top of the trash, then pulled on a clean shirt from my bag and carefully tucked Hana’s sweater back inside.
I walked to the Bulgwang stream and stood on the footbridge where I’d stopped so many times to look at the sky. It was a bit narrower now but had the same crop of purple flowers on either side, the same unhurried pull toward the sea. If I was going to be wiped from existence on the hour mark, I wanted it to be here, looking out at the stream that disappeared into the horizon, the white foot-bridges, the pale stepping stones, the clean pinpricks of stars in the dark sky. I wanted to be at home.
I checked my watch again.
Ten seconds.
