Chapter Text
The sea breeze hit them the moment they stepped out of the van. Zoey inhaled like she could breathe in the entire coastline. “SALTY AIR! I’VE MISSED YOU.”
“You’ve never lived by the coast,” Mira deadpanned, slinging her duffel as well as Zoey’s over one shoulder. “Still!” Zoey skipped ahead down the narrow cobblestone road lined with small cafés, seafood vendors, and guesthouses with paint peeling in that picturesque way. Her pastel bucket hat nearly flew off in the wind as she twirled dramatically, nearly clocking a passing cyclist with her tote bag. “ZO. EEEE.” Mira lunged and caught the edge of her shirt just in time to stop her from tumbling into the street. “After fighting demons for so long, please don’t let your death be by vehicular collision.”
“Oh please! ” Zoey fluttered her fingers like a magician and kept walking backwards. “I’m too fabulous to die. Mira, feel the vibes . This is a healing montage waiting to happen.” Rumi followed quietly behind them, her suitcase rolling over the uneven stones with a faint rattle. The air did feel different here, crisp and open. Boats bobbed in the harbor below, and the water glinted gold under the late afternoon sun. They turned a corner toward the villa Bobby had rented for them: a two-story wooden house built into the slope of a hill, with a small porch and a tangle of wisteria vines crawling up the railing. A sign with faded calligraphy hung above the gate:
달의 숨결 — Breath of the Moon.
“I love her,” Zoey declared instantly. “She’s giving haunted seaside princess and I’m here for it.”
“You’d love a haunted toaster,” Mira sighed. Inside, the house smelled of old cedar and lemon oil. A spiral staircase led to the upstairs bedrooms, and the windows offered a view of the ocean below, waves spilling softly against the rocks. They took a few minutes to dump their bags, claim beds, and raid the complimentary snack basket Bobby had bribed someone to fill.
By sunset, they were wandering again, because of course Zoey couldn’t sit still. The streets had grown quiet as the sky darkened into cotton-candy streaks. Lanterns flickered to life over food stalls and boutiques, casting the alleys in warm glows. A busker with a worn guitar played something slow and nostalgic near the pier. Mira walked beside Zoey, pretending she wasn’t enjoying herself as she made mental notes of vintage shops and secondhand bookstores to return to. Rumi trailed a little behind, sipping a barley tea from a paper cup.
She was halfway past a small boutique when something made her stop. Across the street, among the crowd, she saw him. Black hair parted from the left, small smirk gracing his lips and a bright mischievous shine in his eyes.
Jinu.
He was in just a plain hoodie, face half-shadowed under the streetlight. But she knew that jawline. That stillness. That presence like a cord humming through her chest. “Jinu!” she shouted before she even realized it. The crowd shifted and someone blocked her view. She blinked and when she looked again, the man was gone.
Rumi stared at the spot like she could rewind the moment. Her hands clenched around her cup. “Rumi?” Zoey called, jogging back toward her. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she said automatically. “I just thought I recognized someone.”
Zoey peered across the street. “Cute?”
Rumi huffed a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Crazy.” They rejoined Mira, who was busy sniffing candles at a nearby vendor and pretending to be unimpressed. Mira glanced up from a candle labeled Ocean Rain and raised a skeptical brow. “You don’t look crazy. You look haunted.”
“I always look haunted,” Rumi replied dryly, recovering enough to sip her tea again. The warmth had faded from the cup, but she drank it anyway. Her hand didn’t stop shaking. Zoey bumped her shoulder gently. “Want me to buy you a silly hat? You know, like a protection charm against seaside ghosts?”
“I’m good.”
“Because I will buy the hat,” Zoey warned. “And it’ll have a crab on it. A sparkly one.” Rumi managed a small smile. It faded the moment she looked across the street again. The space where she’d seen him, now just a cluster of tourists browsing shell bracelets and roasted squid skewers. There was no trace of that familiar posture.
It couldn’t be him, Jinu was gone.
And if he wasn’t… why wouldn’t he say something?
“Okay,” Mira said, suddenly next to her with an armful of candles, “I’ve made some very serious decisions about scent profiles. We’re doing calming lavender upstairs, salty sea witch energy downstairs, and sandalwood near the porch to ward off Zoey’s fashion poltergeists.”
“I’m telling you, that shirt was vintage!” Zoey called from the next stall over, where she was now enthusiastically examining octopus-shaped earrings. Rumi snorted under her breath. It was a small relief, hearing them bicker like this. It reminded her that things had changed, yes, but not everything. Mira was still Mira. Zoey was still Zoey. And she…
She was still trying to remember how to be Rumi.
They wandered a little longer, letting the slow rhythm of the town lull them into something like peace. At one point, they passed a local bulletin board plastered with faded posters and event flyers. Rumi caught sight of a hand-drawn map. It marked out tourist trails, hiking paths, and a few historical landmarks. One particular location caught her interest. In smudged black ink, there was a dot marked Yeonghae Temple Ruins , with a tiny note scribbled beside it: Echoes strongest during moonrise . Rumi didn’t know what that meant. But she felt something stir in her chest at the words. “Yo,” Zoey said through a mouthful of candied sweet potato, “I think my feet have actually started to become one with my shoes.”
Mira checked the time on her phone. “We should head back before your feet achieve sentience.” She glanced at Rumi, who was still staring at the map. “You coming?” Rumi hesitated. The scrawled words curled in her mind like fog. She didn’t know why, but it felt like something was tugging her in that direction. “You guys go ahead,” she said softly. “I’ll catch up in an hour. I want to check something.”
Zoey looked instantly suspicious. “Check something?”
“I’m not summoning anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Zoey crossed her arms. “That’s exactly what someone summoning something would say.”
Mira just sighed. “Don’t fall off a cliff. Text us if a ghost starts giving you riddles.”
“Got it.” Rumi offered them a quick, grateful smile, then turned and began walking uphill. It took her twenty minutes to find the start of the trail. The path was narrow, overgrown in places, and wrapped around a bend that overlooked the coast. As she climbed, the town lights fell away behind her, replaced by the silver hush of moonlight on stone.
She reached the ruins just as the moon cleared the edge of a cloud. There wasn’t much left, just crumbling stone markers, a half-standing archway, and what looked like the foundation of an old altar. Trees surrounded the clearing, their branches twisting into shapes that caught the light like reaching hands. Somewhere below, she could hear the ocean crashing softly against the rocks.
Rumi stepped into the center of the ruins and waited. Nothing happened. She sat on a mossy stone block and folded her arms tightly, tapping her foot impatiently. After a few minutes, she sighed and dropped her stance. “Okay,” she muttered. “This is stupid. What were you hoping to happen? That he’d just… appear? Again?”
The silence pressed in around her.
She sighed and stood up, brushing off her jeans. “Maybe I’m the crazy one” The wind stirred the trees gently, and she turned to leave when a sharp click broke the silence. Suddenly, a beam of white light cut through the dark, blinding her. Rumi flinched, stumbling back with one arm raised. “Hey!”
“Who are you?” a voice asked. Calm, but wary. Familiar in a way that made her breath catch. The light lowered slightly, shifting from her eyes to her chest, then to the ruins behind her. Rumi blinked as her vision adjusted, taking a good look at the person in front of her. In case she wasn’t certain before, the blue tiger crouched on the stone beside his feet, its fur shining brightly. The bird with three eyes perched silently on its head, feathers shifting in and out of the light.
It was him.
“Jinu?”
He stared at her with confusion. “I don’t know that name,” he said slowly. “Do I… know you?” Rumi took a shaky breath. Her fingers curled at her sides. It was him, she was sure of it, but his expression held none of the warmth. He looked at her like a stranger, like he didn’t remember saving her life.
Or losing his.