Chapter 9

　　She had no idea how far the man had been taken, and she couldn’t return to her brother’s apartment looking like this. Muhee touched the back of her neck, which now felt strangely bare, and looked at her phone. She’d texted Muhyeok that she would stay the night and come over tomorrow, making no mention of what had happened. He had simply replied, "Okay," asking no questions.

　　"Muhee, I’m back!"

　　Was the refrigerator a portal to all places? The child ghost popped out with a bright smile and came trotting over. The little thing, who only came up to her waist, clung to her leg.

　　"I took out the recycling!"

　　"Recycling?"

　　Surely he wasn’t talking about the man from before. The child ghost beamed. "Yep! Burnable trash!" She decided not to ask what kind of trash that was. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

　　The child ghost’s red eyes rolled until they landed on Deongchi, who had reappeared at some point. A murderous silence, like an invisible staring contest, crackled in the air between them. The hands hugging her waist tightened.

　　"She’s mine. Go away."

　　"I like Mu."

　　"Muhee hates you!"

　　That goes for you too, Muhee thought. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she had no desire to join their idiotic squabble. She gathered the fallen locks of her hair, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed for the bathroom. As she went, Deongchi stood guard outside the door, but the child ghost remained stubbornly attached to her waist. She looked down at it in silence. Its innocent red eyes blinked up at her.

　　"Get off."

　　"Muhee likes me, right?"

　　"If you get off, I’ll consider it. Positively."

　　"Muhee said she likes me!"

　　Oh, for crying out loud. Who knew a conversation between a ghost and a human could be this futile? The child ghost hopped up and down before finally detaching itself. At last, Muhee was alone. She let out a heavy sigh.

　　"I’m so tired." A haggard face stared back at her from the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes were a testament to her sleepless nights, and her clumsily hacked hair was a pathetic sight. Her long, waist-length hair now barely brushed her shoulders. She’d have to go to a salon tomorrow to get it fixed.

　　She started filling the tub with hot water. Warm steam enveloped the small room, but a deep chill still clung to her bones. I can’t believe the two beings who’ve been keeping me from a night’s sleep would actually end up helping me.

　　It was unimaginable. Even if she had to confront them, she never thought it would be like this. They want to protect me? As if in a trance, she sank into the tub, clothes and all, and stared up at the ceiling. A woman with long, straight hair and a face smudged by shadows was reaching down with both hands.

　　"Pitiful," the woman giggled, echoing Deongchi’s words.

　　Pale arms and long, red fingernails. They caressed Muhee’s face, then her hands slid to her neck.

　　"Muhee."

　　Her name was spoken with such gentleness. Muhee blinked.

　　"When are you going to die?"

　　The question came, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the scrape of long fingernails against her eyelids.

　　"I hate you," the voice added, the tone still so tender that she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. Was the woman’s face, hidden in shadow, smiling?

　　The hands tightened, and her body began to sink deeper into the tub. There was no pain, but as the water closed over her face, she couldn’t breathe. Her body, which had just begun to relax, had no strength to resist. Is this it? Am I going to die so pathetically?

　　Just then, a hand yanked her forcefully upward. Him again.

　　"Mu. Don’t die."

　　Deongchi had somehow entered the bathroom and saved her from the brink of death. He glared at the female ghost as she retreated into the ceiling, then lifted Muhee into his arms. A human, held by a ghost.

　　"Put me down."

　　"Mu."

　　"I said, put me down."

　　"Why were you trying to die?"

　　"Let go!"

　　She struggled out of his bridal-carry and landed ungracefully on the slippery tub floor. She glared up at him fiercely. Why was I trying to die? Why? Is that the question he should be asking me right now?

　　"It’s because of you!" Her voice, laced with resentment, finally bared its teeth. The child ghost peeked its head through the cracked bathroom door, watching cautiously, but she didn’t care. The emotions she had suppressed for a week exploded. "You… you’re all driving me crazy again! You made me want to give up on everything, so how dare you ask me that?" What had her mother said before she left on her trip, seeing her daughter’s suffering? Pity, mixed with a hidden layer of anxiety and disgust. She had held Muhee, sleepless and tormented, and suggested they visit a psychiatric hospital when she returned.

　　She’d said it was all just a hallucination brought on by stress. To ignore it, because it wasn’t real. But if it wasn’t real, how could she feel these things?

　　Muhee stood and faced the mirror. The ghosts were not reflected in the glass, but the red, scratch marks on her neck were undeniably real.

　　"Why do you keep showing up around me? You tormented me so much ten years ago, you killed my dad, and now you’re trying to kill me?"

　　"Mu. Calm down."

　　"Or is it my mom this time? Or my brother, like in that old dream? If you’re going to do this, just kill me! If you’re going to torment me, then leave everyone else alone and just kill me!"

　　"Calm down."

　　A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she gripped the sink, gasping for breath. The child ghost tiptoed toward her, about to latch onto her leg, and she irritably jerked it away. It looked up at her, its face a mask of shock, but she didn’t have the energy to care.

　　"What do you mean, calm down? If it weren’t for you, there would be nothing to get worked up about in the first place!"

　　"Muhee. If we’re not here, you’ll be in danger," the child ghost said, fiddling with its tiny fingers. Beside it, the massive Deongchi nodded, his handsome face an unreadable mask. The sight of the two of them, looking so eerie as they watched her, too hesitant to approach, was almost comical.

　　"And who are you protecting me from? That murderer from before? Wasn’t that your little setup? How often does someone just run into a person like that?"

　　Right. Meeting a killer right after seeing ghosts, as if on cue. Muhee let out a dry, humorless laugh. In her dream, Heebeom had been a killer, too. Maybe this really was some kind of sick surprise orchestrated by the ghosts. The most horrific surprise in the world.

　　"Or what about that ghost from the ceiling?" she continued. "She flat-out asked me when I was going to die. Isn’t she one of you? Why are you pretending she’s not? You might as well just curse me blatantly."

　　"She is not our colleague."

　　"Muhee will catch a cold."

　　The child ghost scrambled up the wall and pulled down a towel. It held it out to her cautiously, its face falling when she only stared back blankly.

　　"Answer me. What is it you want?"

　　Deongchi took the towel from the child ghost and gently placed it on Muhee’s head. Her wet body was starting to shiver.

　　"Let’s go out first. Mu will get a cold."

　　"That was my precious towel," the child ghost muttered, puffing out its cheeks. "Muhee. Muhee. Should I stay with you if you’re scared?"

　　Instead of following Deongchi, the child ghost trotted back to her side and looked up with its round eyes. He was probably referring to the female ghost, but he was obviously just a boy. There was no way she was letting him stay.

　　Muhee spoke slowly and clearly, as if to someone hard of hearing. "Stop talking nonsense and get out. Now."

　　"Hmph."

　　Hmph, my ass. Based on what had happened so far, they seemed to show up whenever she was in danger anyway, whether they were right beside her or not. It was absurd for him to insist on staying. She quickly showered and was about to get dressed and leave when there was a soft knock at the door. An arm reached into the bathroom. She flinched, thinking it was the female ghost, but then she saw that the hand was holding her clothes.

　　"Mu’s clothes."

　　She could see that. The problem was why he was holding them. In what was clearly an adult man’s hand were her pajamas. When she took them, the door closed again. How did that bastard know where my pajamas were? On top of that, he had even included her underwear. The sheer audacity of it seemed to cool her anger. She didn’t know whether to be creeped out or furious at the pervert ghost. Sighing, she got dressed.

　　When she stepped out, Deongchi and the child ghost were sitting next to each other on the living room floor. Actually, Deongchi was on the floor, while the child ghost was perched on the coffee table next to him. It kept glancing at Deongchi and straightening its back, as if trying to match his sitting height. It didn’t help. He was still a short stack.

　　"Muhee! Sit here!"

　　The short stack—no, the child ghost—spotted her first and pointed to the sofa across from them. As she reluctantly approached, she noticed a cushion on the couch that hadn’t been there before. Judging by the proud, expectant look on his face, it was his handiwork. Muhee tossed the cushion aside and sat down.

　　"Who’s explaining first?"

　　"Me! Me!"

　　"You go," she said, her chin jutting toward Deongchi, completely ignoring the child ghost’s frantically raised hand. Seeing his dejected expression, as if his ears and tail had visibly drooped, felt like a small compensation for all the terror he’d put her through. She thought he looked just a tiny bit cute and had to fight to keep her lips from twitching into a smile. She maintained a stony expression.

　　The designated speaker, Deongchi, remained impassive.

　　"The dream Mu is having."

　　Muhee, who had been bracing herself for anything, widened her eyes in surprise. The dream. The strange dream she’d been having for a week, and the ghosts who had appeared at the same time.

　　"That is Mu’s future."

　　It was a statement she never could have anticipated. "…My future?"