*Guardian Angel, Part 2

---

 

Moonbyul’s strolling around Wheein’s neighborhood.

 

No, she’s not stalking the girl, per se. At least, that’s what she’s convincing herself.

 

Wheein just needs a bit more attention than the rest. It’s a mild precaution, since Wheein’s had a streak of unluckiness since birth. Moonbyul should have known that it is partly her fault. The universe always balances itself, and someone blessed with as much talent as Wheein will undoubtedly incur some penalty elsewhere. Nothing ever comes free. And it’s not like guardian angels can dole out luck. No, that’s another matter altogether.

 

So, Moonbyul hops onto a brick wall lining the sidewalk, invisible to the eye. She swings her legs up and back down to kick against the wall as she waits for Wheein to get off school.

 

Spring’s been a little chilly this year. Moonbyul isn’t too affected by the elements, but the breeze that dances by and lifts her silver locks is cold. The sun is partially hidden behind clouds of white and grey, meek rays hardly a comfort.

 

Is Wheein dressing warmly? Moonbyul wonders to herself as the final school bell rings in the distance and the first trickle of laughing highschoolers tumble from the main gates. Perhaps it’s time to intervene once more and make sure Wheein has what she needs. It’s almost her birthday, anyways.

 

If only Wheein’s parents paid a bit more attention to Wheein and a bit less to their work. Moonbyul runs her fingers rashly through her hair, grumbling to herself. The poor girl deserves more than solitary suppers and lonely nights.

 

In a few more minutes, Moonbyul sees the girl she’s looking for. A silly smile somehow finds its way onto her face when she sees the short girl, shuffling forward against the wind with a silver scarf tucked snugly against her neck. Wheein’s bare hands are stuffed deep into puffy coat pockets. Maybe she ought to get Wheein a pair of mitts. Moonbyul grins and leaps off the wall, landing soundlessly.

 

But she frowns. As Wheein continues to walk, head lowered, at a brisk pace, Moonbyul sees in her periphery, a few guys striding closer, unapologizing to the people they bump into. She sneaks a glance at Wheein’s face when the girl eyes the approaching group. Wheein scowls and tries to walk faster without breaking into an obvious run.

 

“Yo Wheein, why you so walking so fast!” shouts one of the crude boys when he’s a few feet away. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

 

“Not interested,” utters Wheein, not stopping her pace at all. It isn’t until one of the group jogs in front of her that she’s brought to a sudden halt. She firms her stance, stands straight and looks at the guy blocking her way and orders, “Get out of my way.”

 

He only laughs and tries to pat Wheein shoulder to placate her. However, Wheein harshly shrugs that hand off and shoots him an icy glare.

 

The first boy finally catches up, and he whistles as he tries to catch his breath.

 

“Why you always got to be like this, Wheein? Don’t you want to hang out? Always being so standoffish. Is it because you’re a spoiled child?” He snickers, fingers plucking at her coat. “I know how you’re from quite a well off family. Why wouldn’t you treat your friends sometime? It only seems right, you know.” He shoots his groupies an arrogant smirk. “And you know what? We aren’t too picky. We’d accept other favors as well.”

 

Wheein bites her lip in despair, almost enough to draw blood, and tries to back up. To her consternation, the last guy has maneuvered behind her and pushes her back to talk with the ringleader. She’s trapped. She gulps and in a shaky voice, pleads, “G-Go away. I don’t want to.”

 

“You never want to do anything, Wheein. We’ll have to change that.” Lazily drawling out those last words, he lumbers forward with confidence, knowing Wheein has nowhere to run. “You’ll see.”

 

You little . Moonbyul’s scans the surroundings desperately, looking for something to help her. Curse their rules that forbid her from direct interference. She cannot lay a hand on any human other than the one’s charged with. She’s always wondered why so many of their rules are made to protect humans.

 

In her scramble for a solution, she lets her gaze fall onto a crumbling portion of the wall. A pair of trembling, feline eyes stare back at her.

 

It’ll have to do.

 

Moonbyul shuts her eyes and in a deep breath, mouthing a quick apology to the animal.

 

Seconds later, she’s blinking those brilliant, now silver, orbs, staring at the situation from narrow slits of pupils. She wiggles the soft pads of her paws, trying to adjust to four-legged movement.

 

Then, she unsheathes her claws.

 

And she jumps out of the shadows at the closest guy, limbs arcing to dig her inbred weapons into Wheein’s harassers.

 

Her victim howls when claw meets skin and he stumbles back into the wall in his haste to get away. Moonbyul lands nimbly, slightly disappointed that she’s only managed the slightest of scratches on someone who obviously deserves worse.

 

The brief distraction is enough, and Wheein seizes the opportunity and the breach in their defenses to dash away, away from their horrid attention. Moonbyul musters a small smile on her furry face and watches her escape.

 

When one of the other boys shouts and starts after her, Moonbyul spins back around and leaps powerfully towards him, nipping at his sock-covered ankles, growling as she hangs on resolutely. He’s stopped his chase, but he roughly jerks his leg all over the place to relinquish her bite.

 

Moonbyul holds on as long as she can, but eventually she’s flung harshly to the side with a pitiful cry.

 

Her little body is battered when it crumples from the brick wall, and the boy who’s nursing several red scratches spits on her hatefully.

 

Moonbyul scrabbles at the gravel with her paws, trying to get up. Only now, she realizes she’s in the body of a kitten. A foolish idea it was, to just blindly charge out with the weak constitution of a barely grown, abandoned kitten.

 

Selfish of her too. When she can finally leave its body a few hours later, she’ll need to do all she can to make sure its injuries get treated.

 

She drags along a sprained paw, back towards the hole in the wall. One of the boys, still furious, raises a foot as if to kick her and she flinches, bright eyes flashing worriedly.

 

However, his friends just push him along, pointing subtly at the increased number of people nearby. Scowling to himself, he spits once more in her direction and then stomps away with the rest of his crew.

 

Moonbyul lets out little mew of relief, though exhausted, and settles herself back in the shadows, resting her bruised body and decides to nap until the time limit is up and she can leave this body.

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“Hey.”

 

“A-Are you alive?”

 

“I-I—“

 

In the midst of her slumber, Moonbyul awakes to a mumbling, hesitant tone. She tries to move—

 

Ah crap. She’s still stuck in the kitten.

 

And she’s really feeling the pain now. Much as she tries to uncurl from fetal position, every muscle, every joint, screams within her, imprint of the wall a throbbing reminder of the earlier incident. Near her hind leg is a small patch of crusted fur, beneath which is skin still sticky from seeping droplets of blood.

 

Moonbyul yowls softly, eyes blinked shut at the agony. How much longer does she have to endure before she can leave the body? It’s truly been long since Moonbyul’s felt physical pain. Or any pain at all.

 

As she’s hissing softly to distract herself from the pain, a sudden shuffling near her takes her by surprise.

 

Moments later, warm hands sneak under her torso and she’s rising, lifted ever so gently.

 

She fights against the exhaustion weighing down her eyelids when she feels those very hands begin to wrap soft cloth around her.

 

Her silver orbs flash once.

 

Worried hazel ones scrutinize the state of her wounds below choppy bangs.

 

 

Wheein?

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

When Moonbyul wakes up, the pain’s dulled to a slow, constant ache.

 

But the pain’s still there.

 

Which is startling, to say the very least.

 

Because there are stars twinkling in the sky, a full blasted moon, and a brutal wind that whips at her head when she pokes her head out of the box.

 

Box? Her eyes flit over her shoulder at her makeshift bed. She’s resting comfortably on a woolen blanket.

 

Moonbyul lifts her hands—no her paws—and props them on the edge of the cardboard box.

 

She’s still stuck in this form.

 

 

 

“Look at you,” snickers a familiar voice.

 

Moonbyul’s raised fur falls flat when she sees a figure step out from behind the shadows of the trees and into the brightly lit, paved path. Red hair shines against the artificial light.

 

She clears and tries for a witty comeback, but all that comes out is a choked meow, followed by hacking and gagging. There’s something rising with and she tumbles over the edge of the box towards the figure, pleading for help.

 

Hwasa walks forward and kneels, waiting while Moonbyul crawls to her feet, heaving.

 

Now, if only she could focus on reprimanding Hwasa for looking so disinterested about her suffering and so touchy with the of her fur—

 

 

Moonbyul jerks her head forward, mouth agape, coughing, and something rolls out.

 

They stare at the ejected hairball for a split second.

 

 

 

Then, Hwasa’s doubled over, howling in laughter while Moonbyul tucks her paws beneath her in embarrassment, ears falling flat against her head.

 

“You—holy crap.” Hwasa blows through her nose, holding her stomach. “A cat. Oh my god. I didn’t believe it when they told me about what happened. But now,” Hwasa tickles the top of her head playfully and Moonbyul swipes her little paws at the encroaching fingers, “I gotta say it suits you.”

 

She wants to say something in return, but she realizes that, well, these feline vocal cords of hers aren’t really suited for human speech. She meows urgently and paws at , eyes staring wide at Hwasa.

 

“I know. You can’t talk. No . You’re a cat.” Hwasa rolls her eyes when Moonbyul hunches over, defeated. “Anyways, I came to visit you both as a friend and as your boss. So just listen, alright?”

 

Moonbyul nods and sits back on her hind legs, tail swishing side to side.

 

“So…I guess it’s your first time trying possession?” When Hwasa receives a confirming nod, she continues, “You’ve probably been taught about how you’re supposed to watch your actions when you do possess others. And you probably know that you aren’t able to just to pop in and out. It’s a constraint on our powers so there are less people abusing the ability. So at a minimum, you’re usually stuck in the body for maybe 6 hours or so.”

 

“Now, you’re probably wondering why you’re still a cat, aren’t you?” Amusement leaks out in Hwasa’s tone as she leans forward and boops Moonbyul on the nose. “Well, it’s because of another precaution to keep guardians in line. Take responsibility for actions and all that.”

 

“While injured, you remain in the body. That’s it. Simple as that.”

 

Hwasa sighs and picks up Moonbyul, ignoring her flailing protests, and secures her in her lap, all the while patting her. “All that was official stuff that I’m supposed to relay as your boss. But as your friend, let me say that I’m worried about you.”

 

“I’m starting to think you’re taking this guardian angel job too far. To get hurt this badly?” Hwasa cradles Moonbyul’s limp hind leg, careful not to disturb the bandaging that Moonbyul notices on her for the first time tonight. In fact, her fur is glistening with a clean shine, clear of the dirt, grime, and blood of homeless living and fighting. “Much long-lived as we are, we certainly aren’t immortal. Especially when taking on other forms.”

 

“We’ve had this talk. Humans are fragile. That’s the reason they have that whole range of emotions while we’re stripped of all but the basic ones.” Hwasa’s pupils expand under the moonlight, solemn expression a warning. “Don’t let yourself get carried away by something you have no idea of. Humans can’t remember meetings with us anyways, when we approach them in our original forms. It’s quite amazing, actually, how their minds come up with the most random things to replace the memories of meeting us.”

 

Hwasa pats Moonbyul’s and she takes the hint, uncurling from Hwasa’s lap and leaps off back onto the pavement.

 

While brushing dirt off her pants, Hwasa chuckles softly to herself. “Then again, I shouldn’t be one to talk. I was never one to really follow rules, was I? And yet, here I am, promoted, nagging at you.” A tricky grin flashes over her face as she bends to scratch Moonbyul between the eyes one last time.

 

“No matter what, though, I’m your friend, first and foremost.”

 

“I’ll do my best to help you out. Just don’t be too rash, ok?”

 

A simple black portal forms behind Hwasa.

 

“Don’t be as hasty as I was.”

 

Hwasa disappears.

 

Moonbyul’s temporarily confused.

 

However, she doesn’t think too much on it. Instead, she pads back to the cardboard box, back to the snuggly blanket cushioning the bottom and sides.

 

She’ll go back to sleep and hope that soon, the kitten’s body will recover enough for her to escape.

 

And she’ll dream, wondering if that brief memory of Wheein, worried over her tattered self, was true.

 

And she fades to unconsciousness with a little, content mew, hoping that if so, maybe Wheein will be back.

 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

Wheein is back.

 

Moonbyul blinks open her eyes to unexpected daylight and the fall of a curtain of hair above her.

 

“Hi”

 

Suddenly, Moonbyul’s not sure which is brighter—noonday sun or Wheein’s contagious little smile.

 

Moonbyul clambers to her feet, maybe a little too eagerly for her weakened and just awoken state, and just topples onto her side. Shaking her head briskly, she tries again, but ends up pawing pathetically at the sides of the box. Wheein giggles at her antics and decides to assist her in getting out of the box.

 

“I hope you’re feeling better.”

 

She purrs in response, resting her head against Wheein’s thigh as the girl gently her side. Eyes lulled half-close by the rhythmic comfort of Wheein’s touch, Moonbyul makes out a field in the distance, a few wooden tables, and several worn structures.

 

It's quite familiar, this park. Guardians like her have everlasting memory, able to recall everything about everybody they’ve watched over.

 

Moonbyul unabashedly gazes up from Wheein’s lap and follows the girl’s brief glance towards the sand-filled playground. A ghost of a nostalgic smile lingers when Wheein turns her attention back to Moonbyul. The creaking of rusted swing chains follow the slight breeze.

 

“Thank you for yesterday. And sorry for yesterday.” Wheein’s fingers skim over her lithe torso, lightly brushing against the border of the bandaged wounds before falling to the side. “I tried to patch you up best I could. I’d take you home, but my parents don’t allow me to have pets. I hope it wasn’t too uncomfortable sleeping out here last night.”

 

“Oh! Also…”

 

Wheein digs into bag and comes out with a bottle of milk.

 

“I’ll try to take care of you because I owe you for yesterday. This corner of the park should be a safer home than where you were before. I’ll bring food whenever I can and change your bandages.”

 

Wheein nudges the tip of the bottle toward Moonbyul, and the girl/cat stares on in horror at the descending .

 

Does Wheein expect her to just like a newborn infant? If Hwasa could see her now, this humiliation. She’d never hear the end of it. No, she needs to retain this last little bit of pride.

 

But when Wheein eyes her expectantly with an eager, playful smile, Moonbyul can’t help but, you know, indulge her just a bit.

 

A little mortified at herself, Moonbyul’s mouth closes over the tip and begins to take quick sips.

 

“So cute~” squeals Wheein, and a smug expression forms on Moonbyul’s face, albeit strange around the mouth of the bottle. “And such a brave little kitten. I wonder if you have a name.”

 

Wheein checks around the scruff of Moonbyul’s neck, but no collar is to be found.

 

“Maybe…would you mind if I called you Ggomo?” She laughs to herself, voice twinkling like wind chimes. “What am I even doing? Asking a cat for an opinion. You probably can’t even understand me.”

 

Moonbyul stretches in response, front paws rubbing against Wheein’s thigh. Finishing the last droplets of milk, she blinks up at Wheein, whose eyes turn to crescents as she chuckles, grabbing the edge of the blanket to dab away the little traces of milk around .

 

“You have beautiful silver eyes. It’s my favorite color, you know? That exact shade…” Wheein readjusts the scarf around her neck. “I don’t know why, but it soothes me. Reminds me of something. I’m just not sure what.”

 

“Stay here Ggomo, alright?” Wheein nuzzles her nose against Moonbyul’s head and she lets out a satisfied purr, rumbling deep within her chest. “I have class, but I’ll be back soon.”

 

 

Moonbyul toddles back to her box when Wheein swings her backpack onto her shoulder and walks off with a cheerful wave.

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

“Ggomo!”

 

Moonbyul’s getting used to this.

 

It’s been a few weeks, and she’s just about healed up.

 

About time to leave, probably.

 

She knows Hwasa’s likely fuming in her office by now, tired of covering for her duties while she’s stuck as a cat.

 

“You won’t believe what happened today in Bio!”

 

It’s become routine. Her curling up on Wheein’s lap, enjoying the warmth and the sweet scenery of spring while the girl recounts the events of the day.

 

Life is simpler. Different.

 

Instead of the necessary selflessness she exhibits as a guardian angel, she almost feels selfish like this. Taking advantage of Wheein’s kindness. Refusing to go back to work because she just loves this day by day living of sleeping until she wakes to Wheein’s voice.

 

Even though there are others who need her. How selfish.

 

Sometimes, she wonders. Why are guardians the way they are? Why are their attentions forcefully spread among so many people? It would be easier if they were, say, exclusive. But no, she has a stack of profiles that she’s assigned to, work that exhausts her until she can’t afford to truly care anymore.

 

She’s heard of guardians playing favorites. Maybe a bit of extra pushing here and there, stimulated from a sense of pity for the sad little souls. But those moments pass by quickly.

 

However, for her, there’s something else other than pity that stops her from testing out if she can leave the kitten’s body.

 

She knows she’ll have to, eventually. Duty calls, after all. Or Hwasa will, with an earful of nagging.

 

For now, she enjoys the little moments. Listening to Wheein ramble on, nodding her little furry head when she feels the need to rant. Sometimes, on a windy day, her whiskers will bristle, annoyed, when Wheein skips to her in a skirt too short. She’ll quickly settle herself onto Wheein’s lap when she sits, paws smoothing back down the ends that threaten to roll back up, hissing at anyone who tries to come too close.

 

Wheein’s doesn’t hesitate to pepper her with kisses, and she’s learned to meekly let her limbs hang loose when Wheein picks her up to do so. She’s glad she has fur to hide the blush.

 

She’s also grown to indulge the girl even more. Once, when Wheein comes with one of those cat toys, something colorful and random swinging from the end of a stick, Moonbyul only sits on her haunch, wide eyed and confused. It isn’t until Wheein begins jiggling it before her face that her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the realization that Wheein expects her to play with it.

 

It’s a little much, she thinks. Moonbyul shuffles backwards on her paws, terrified of making more of a fool of herself. Wheein’s raised arm drops a fraction of a inch and the bottom of her trembling lip slowly juts out in a pout---

 

Damn it, screams Moonbyul in her mind. She sniffles to herself and leaps forward, prancing around as she whacks at the toy, shame burning straight through her.

 

Man, has she fallen. If only her colleagues could see her now. Moonbyul, top of her graduating guardian class, springing up on her fuzzy hind legs to chase the flying end of a cat toy.

 

 

But Wheein’s ecstatic smile makes the awkwardness recede. Just a bit. 

 

 

It’s also the brilliance of her smile and what it makes her feel that makes Moonbyul stay in that form a little longer than necessary.

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

Moonbyul glances at her watch. It should be nearly time that the students are leaving.

 

She packs up the remains of her little flower stall, tossing most of the unsold merchandise unceremoniously into a cardboard box. While she does so, she looks in the distance and sure enough, people begin to pass the school gates.

 

Laughing seniors, finally free from the hell they thought was high school, oblivious of the hell named college awaiting them.

 

They’re dressed in their long black gowns, square graduation caps sitting lopsided on their heads as they pull friends and family together for last photos and commemorations. Decked out in leis and armed with exquisite bouquets, they’re soaking up the memories of this last little moment.

 

One of the group breaks off with a half-hearted wave and begins to trudge towards Moonbyul’s direction.

 

Moonbyul’s sweeping up the last of her mess when the girl begins to pass by.

 

“Hello.”

 

“H-Hi?” Wheein slows down, staring quizzically at her.

 

Moonbyul just smiles and turns to her chair, where she’s kept one last bouquet in perfect condition. She leans her broom against a box and picks up the bouquet tenderly.

 

“For you.”

 

Wheein stammers as she receives the unexpected offering. “W-What for?”

 

“Congratulations on graduating, of course.”

 

“How did you know?”

 

Moonbyul raises an eyebrow and looks her up and down exaggeratedly, at her attire.

 

“Oh.” Wheein blushes. “T-Thank you.”

 

“It’s a gift. So, why are you leaving the festivities so early? And by yourself?” Moonbyul asks, but she already knows.

 

“My parents are working abroad right now, so they weren’t able to come.” Wheein chuckles hollowly. “And I don’t like crowds much.”

 

“Mmm. Reasonable.”

 

“I suppose…” Wheein looks down at the bouquet and up at Moonbyul.

 

“Don’t like it?”

 

“N-No! I love it. It’s beautiful. But I was just wondering...” Wheein inches forward, eyes raking over Moonbyul’s face and hair. “Have I seen you somewhere before?”

 

 “How so?”

 

“You seem so familiar. Especially your eyes and your hair. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen you somewhere, but I just can’t think of it, no matter how hard I try.” Wheein frowns and steps closer. “Do you live around this neighborhood? Were you a senior at my school? You’re still young. Wait no, if you were, I would have definitely heard of you, considering how pretty you are.”

 

Moonbyul’s lips twitch up in the corners. “Pretty, you say?” Her eyes twinkle when Wheein blushes and looks down at the bouquet, hands fumbling around the bound stems. “You’re quite beautiful yourself.”

 

She doesn’t realize her words have that much of an effect, but Wheein’s left a fluttering mess, unable to muster the courage to look her back in the eye. Chuckling, she picks up her broom and tucks the top of the box close, making sure everything else is all packed and ready.

 

“As for you first question, I’m not from here. So, it’s unlikely you’ve seen me before unless by of a miracle. I come and go randomly.”

 

“So you were just selling flowers at random?” teases Wheein.

 

“Not quite at random.” Moonbyul smiles and points at the bouquet in Wheein’s hand. “That one’s specifically for you.”

 

“But you’ve said we’ve never met—“

 

“Sometimes, people just need a helping hand when they’re down.” Moonbyul hoists the box to her hip and pats Wheein on the head, admiring the blush that spreads to her cheeks. “Smile today. It’s an end and a beginning. Don’t let small things sway you and just enjoy the moment as it is. You aren’t alone. There’s someone out there for you.”

 

She crinkles her nose as she chuckles, stepping back to head down the street with her wares.

 

“Wait!” She turns at the sound of Wheein’s shout, and the girl dashes to her breathlessly. “You never told me your name.”

 

Should she say it? She isn’t quite sure of the consequences and how it’ll affect Wheein’s eventual morphed memory of this moment.

 

“Moonbyul.” She decides. “You can call me Moonbyul.”

 

Wheein nervously fumbles around her pocket for her phone and asks, “W-Would it be too much to ask you for your number too?”

 

“That may be a little much.” At that moment, Moonbyul hates herself for the way she’s made a shadow fall over Wheein’s face. But, she’s got rules to uphold, and she knows this might be one step too far. “I don’t really do phones.”

 

“Does this mean we’ll never meet again?”

 

Moonbyul pauses, staring at the disappointment within Wheein’s eyes.

 

“We might.” Moonbyul understands that Wheein will forget, anyways. “I wonder if you’ll even remember.”

 

“I will,” says Wheein firmly, light flashing back in her eyes. “Moonbyul.”

 

She shouldn’t be feeling this tingle in her chest when Wheein says her name like that. The girl will forget, anyways.

 

But her lips mouth words that come tumbling out regardless of what she thinks.

 

 

“I’ll see you around then.”

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

So Moonbyul doesn’t actually go seek out Wheein like she says.

 

Partly because she’s not quite sure what Wheein’s remembered that moment as. Partly because it isn’t right of her as a guardian angel.

 

She’s supposed to be subtler with her actions.

 

 

 

 

However, there’s nothing subtle as she paces back and forth in the dark alleyway.

 

College town is sketch. She grimaces as one of the hobos on the streets takes too harsh a drag and just pukes right onto the street. The streets in the residential area are poorly lit, but her sharp eyes catch the stumbling of drunken people coming home from a wild night.

 

Wheein should be coming into view soon, she thinks, based on the slight tug in her chest.

 

Moonbyul decides to materialize into view, black leather jacket blending in well with the night and her black heels clip briskly against the cracked sidewalk. She just needs to find Wheein, make sure the girl is safe.

 

She turns the corner—

 

“Mmfphh.” The sound is muffled in her chest as the figure rounding the corner at the same time runs straight into her. The figure shakes it head, wavy brown locks bouncing wildly around as hands come up to push against Moonbyul’s chest and tug free. “Sorry.”

 

It’s Wheein. Moonbyul exhales in relief, though disturbed by the sweet scent of alcohol lingering on Wheein’s body. “It’s ok. Are you all right?”

 

“I’m—“ Wheein squeezes her eyes shut, breathing heavily. “Just fine.”

 

Like hell. Moonbyul takes a step back, eyeing Wheein’s minimal dress. It’s pretty cold for a fall night, so without hesitation, she shrugs off her thick jacket and drapes it over Wheein’s trembling shoulders. “You should be careful. It can be dangerous at night. Especially if you’re drunk and alone.”

 

She knows she’s coming off a bit strong, a bit like she’s reprimanding the girl when she shouldn’t. Wheein bristles up defensively at her words. “I’m not drunk! I’m just a little…tipsy. And my friends didn’t want to leave the party yet but I had enough. So…yeah.”

 

“Some friends,” scowls Moonbyul, fingers unconsciously brushing away strands of hair from Wheein’s face, trying to comfort her.

 

“Y-Yeah, r-right?” Wheein wraps the coat around tighter. “At least I only live a walk away.”

 

“I’ll walk you home then.” Moonbyul lends a hand to the small of Wheein’s back with a voice that leaves no room for argument. “Let’s go.”

 

 

 

 

She knows it’s the right decision when she follows Wheein past bars, where inebriated fools hang out of the windows, catcalling them. She moves protectively to Wheein’s other side when they have to walk past random groups of people exhaling clouds of toxic smoke, sidling closer and wrapping a possessive arm around her waist when one stares too long, too darkly.

 

When they’re past most of the stores and are walking down streets full of apartments, Moonbyul feels it safe enough to slowly release her tight hold on Wheein. Her hand slides down and she’s about to quickly utter an apology for her sudden actions.

 

 

However, Wheein’s own hand swings up to catch her falling one and clasps it tightly, fingers interlocking with hers.

 

 

“Your hands are so warm,” mumbles Wheein. “Even though you gave me your jacket and must be cold. Thank you.”

 

Moonbyul stares down at their joined hands and breathes an airy laugh. “Maybe I just have a warm heart.”

 

“You definitely do. To be willing to help me just like that.” Wheein leans into Moonbyul’s side as a cyclist quickly speeds by. “What were you doing just wandering around at night, though? Just out of curiosity. Were you also at a party?”

 

“I could have been just waiting for a beautiful girl who needed my help to pass by.” Moonbyul earns a playful slap with her teasing.

 

“Please.” Wheein rolls her eyes and whines, “If it had been anyone else I would have probably just brushed past you and left by myself. Ah.” Wheein furrows her eyebrows, finger scratching her temple. “But you just remind me someone. And you give off that same feel? If that makes any sense at all.”

 

“I’m honored to know that that’s enough for you to trust me so wholeheartedly. But I’d recommend that you don’t go around trusting strangers so easily.”

 

“I don’t, I really don’t.” Wheein lets out a frustrated breath through pouting lips. “But the person you remind me of…she…”

 

“She what?” asks Moonbyul, curiously.

 

“It’s kind of all fuzzy,” admits Wheein. “Usually my memory isn’t bad, but whenever I try to remember, nothing ever clicks together. All that really pops up is that.” She looks up at Moonbyul’s eyes, sight flickering up towards her bangs. “That silver color.”

 

“My hair?”

 

“It’s ridiculous how brightly it’s shining even at night. Almost like the moon or the stars.” Wheein giggles and reaches up to run her fingers through the ends, tucking the strands behind Moonbyul’s shoulder. “But that’s what really pulls me in.”

 

Moonbyul’s heart skips a beat when Wheein’s eyes meet hers and drops away. Her gaze is dragged down towards Wheein, watching her intently as the girl continues to speak. She can feel Wheein’s warmth through the jacket, through this close proximity where they’re practically glued together.

 

“I love the silver. There’s something about it that just lights up my day.” Embarrassment tints Wheein’s cheek. “I had a pretty boring childhood, but the few happy memories I have all have something to do with the color. It’s strange, isn’t it? I can’t even remember clearly, but whenever I see it, I feel happy.”

 

“D-Do you mean to say seeing me makes you feel happy?” Moonbyul trips over her words, trying to hold on to her confidence and wise countenance, with little success.

 

“Seeing you make me feel—“ Wheein coughs suddenly and turns away, pointing towards the gated entrance of one of the apartments. “W-We’re here.”

 

“Oh.” Moonbyul blinks, flustered by the sudden coldness when Wheein relinquishes her fingers. “I see. I’m glad you’re safe.”

 

“Thanks to you.” While Moonbyul’s distracted, checking out the front of the apartment, Wheein leans forward, stretching her arms to wrap around Moonbyul in a hesitant hug. “Thank you for caring. Can I have your name?”

 

She’s frozen, shocked at Wheein’s suddenly initiated skinship. “Moonbyul,” she barely chokes out.

 

“Moonbyul,” mouths Wheein to herself, pleased but confused. “Where have I heard that before…”

 

Moonbyul’s eyes widen impossibly. There’s no way Wheein has any recollection of her.

 

“You don’t feel like a stranger at all.” Wheein tugs at the collars of the jacket she’s returned to Moonbyul and pulls her down, staring straight into her eyes. “But if I’ve met you before, there’s no way I’d forget you.”

 

Her breath hitches as Wheein’s face approaches, dangerously close. The breath Wheein shakily lets out tumbles between them, fanning the flames in her red face. She’s never really been this close to a human. She’s never really been comfortable with skinship. She’s never really—

 

Wheein halts her actions with a sigh and pulls back. “I guess I’ll think harder. Maybe when I’m sober.” She shakes her head briskly, waving. “I’ll see you around on campus?”

 

Moonbyul nods mutely, watching as the gates latch close behind Wheein and the pattering of Wheein’s heels on brick stairs fade to nothing.

 

 

 

She moves toward the dark alleyway to disappear without suspicion. But before she does, she leans against the cold stone wall, hand clutched over her heart, feeling the erratic thumping.

 

Has she gone too far?

 

Her portal forms behind her, and she steps through, not before she glances back up one more time at where she last saw Wheein.

 

Wheein, Wheein, Wheein.

 

 

She can’t get the girl’s face out her mind.

 

She can’t stop thinking about how Wheein’s fingers ghosted over her hair.

 

She can’t stop hearing the chimes of her laugh floating through the air.

 

 

 

 

She needs some help.

 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

“What do you mean?” Solar taps her gun impatiently, feet jumping up and down as she sits on the edge of the fountain, invisible next to Moonbyul. “Explain love? How am I supposed to explain what love is?”

 

“Just tell me,” implores Moonbyul. “Like, how you know, how you feel.”

 

“Why do you need to know? Is something going with one of your people?” Solar fiddles with her gun, aiming down the sights and sighs. “You realize that you have to make a formal request with the department if you need our services?”

 

“Look who’s suddenly being upright,” scoffs Moonbyul. “But it’s not that. I’m just curious because it is related to one of people I’m watching over, and I can’t help her if I don’t understand.”

 

“Love is…” Solar’s voice trails off in pity as she looks at Moonbyul. “That’s right. I nearly forgot. You guys don’t really know love, do you? You have the senses for motherly affection, but nothing really beyond that.”

 

“I suppose? But you can explain it to me, right?”

 

“Love isn’t something I can just explain. It’s really something you feel.” Solar snaps her head up from the clipboard in her lap when a businessman steps out of a taxi, on his way home from work. She then glances to the side, to the side of a restaurant where a waitress is stepping out the backdoor for a quick break. “One sec.”

 

She raises her rifle, steadying it within her arms and directs it towards the girl. She waits, mouth counting the number of steps the businessman takes, eyes flicking back and forth from her watch to her target.

 

A gust of wind whistles by, flapping his coattails, and a stack of business cards escape the seams of his pockets, tumbling out into a mess onto the street in front of the waitress. She bends, dropping her cigarette to help.

 

“Perfect,” mumbles Solar, eyes focused to catch the moment of eye contact.

 

Pop. Pop.

 

“There we go.” The cupid lets loose a triumphant pump of her fist and releases the rifle, letting it swing back against the strap on her shoulder. “Another job well done.”

 

“That’s love?” asks Moonbyul, incredulously. “A random bullet from you cupids? Is that all?”

 

“No, that’s an opportunity for love. It’s a complicated process. Whether they end up in love or not is up to them.”

 

Moonbyul and Solar watch as the businessman finally gathers all his cards, stuffing them back in his pocket. He scratches the back of his head, chuckling at whatever joke the waitress has said, and hesitantly offers his phone forward.

 

“Love. You feel as if you have everything you’ve ever needed. Simply being by their side is enough to lighten your heart, and sometimes you wonder how you’ve managed to survive without them all this time.” Solar stares off into the distance, smile playing at her lips. “It’s a want. A longing.” She eyes Moonbyul with an inscrutable gaze. “I know that concept is harder for you guardians to grasp, since your existence is a steady state of just being. Being there for others.”

 

“Is it painful?” wonders Moonbyul, hand creeping up towards her heart. “Does the heart just ache when they’re thinking about the other person?”

 

“You’ll be doing your own thing, and then suddenly they’ll pop into your mind. You’ll wonder what the other person could possibly be doing at the moment. And then you’ll be wishing that they’re right there next to you. The little things will make you happy—holding hands, hugging, a kiss hello, a kiss goodbye. You’ll remember little details about them that no one else would possibly pay attention to, but you’ll know them all because that’s how much you’ve invested yourself to them. You’ll want to do all you can to protect them, not in the way you guardians do, simply because you’re obliged to. But you’ll want to protect them because they’re yours, and they mean the world to you. You’ll want to drop everything, all your duties, your responsibilities, your ties, just for their sake.”

 

 

 

Moonbyul stares at her hands, missing the warmth of Wheein’s half. It’s starting to make sense, just a bit.

 

 

Before she leaves, though, she asks one last question to the cupid who’s slightly out of it next to her. “Have you ever been in love, Solar?”

 

“It’s a bit ironic. Cupids know all about love.” Solar brushes the hair out of her eyes and her hands trails down to her neck, where lies a single, maroon feather hanging by a makeshift thread.

 

 

“But fate loves to jest.”

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

Moonbyul clutches her movie ticket in hand, eyes roaming across the board above the concession stand. Popcorn? Drink? What should she even get? Does she even need to get anything?

 

Sad to say, it’s the first time in her long-lived life that she’s even bothered going to the theater. She could probably sneak in, but this time she might as well try out this mundane activity.

 

Just for fun. And research.

 

 

 

“You look a little lost.”

 

Her ears prick up at the voice behind her, light and teasing. But how is it even possible?

 

She’s in a nearby area, of course. However, it’s not the smallest city and there’s boundless other cinemas around. Moonbyul spins around on her hind foot and almost trips on the carpeting when she comes face to face with a beaming Wheein.

 

Act calm. Act calm. Moonbyul draws in an unsteady breath, slowing her racing heart. There’s no way Wheein even remembers who she is.

 

“H-Hello. A-Are you also here to watch a movie?” she stammers.

 

Wheein wears a playful expression, exaggerating surprise as she looks around them, at the ticket booth, at the hallways leading to the individual theaters, at the popcorn machines behind her.

 

She grins and Moonbyul coughs awkwardly. “R-Right. My bad.”

 

“So.” Wheein brings a hand out of her pocket to point at the sign. “Are you deciding on what to get?”

 

“Kind of. I’ve never been here before.”

 

“Can’t go wrong with popcorn and an Icee. But that’s just my opinion.” Wheein grins and steps in front of her, going into the line. Moonbyul follows. “What movie are you watching, by the way?”

 

Moonbyul squints at the text on her ticket. “La La Land.”

 

“Oh!” Honest surprise flits across Wheein’s face and a smile soon follows. “Me too. What a coincidence.”

 

“Y-Yeah.”

 

“Are you here alone, then?”

 

Moonbyul eyes Wheein trying to tiptoe and peek over her shoulder. “I guess I am?”

 

Wheein stops her fidgeting and narrows her eyes at her. “I’m surprised you didn’t saying something like ‘Oh, I’m waiting for some pretty girl to walk past and to accompany her to the movies’.”

 

“Wow. How can you say that so suddenly?” Moonbyul claps her chest in mock hurt. But where has she heard that before…

 

Wheein crosses her arms and huffs. “You would go watch a romance movie like that by yourself? On New Year’s Eve?”

 

“Then what about you? Who are you with?” If it isn’t normal to go watch these movies alone, then could that mean Wheein is here on a…date? Moonbyul frowns, eyes lingering on the surroundings trying to pick out whoever it could be. Curiosity, yes, curiosity about this person blazes through her. And all she had wanted was a simple movie night to herself to learn about this human love.

 

Wheein picks at a stray thread on her sweater, suddenly at a loss for words. “I…outside…you… I-I mean I’m here alone too.” She finishes up simply, eyes nervously peeking up for Moonbyul’s reaction.

 

“Wow. That’s really a coincidence, then,” marvels Moonbyul.

 

“S-Since we’re both here alone, then, would you want to sit together? We can share a bucket of popcorn.”

 

Moonbyul nods, very pleased at the idea. Per Wheein’s instructions, she stands off to the side to wait while Wheein orders, only hurrying back to help the shorter girl carry the snacks.

 

 

 

“Shall we go find seats, then?” asks Wheein, jumping from foot to foot, giddy with excitement.

 

“One moment.” Moonbyul shifts both drinks to her left hand and reaches her right forward to straighten Wheein’s silver scarf, tugging the sides out of the way of the greasy mess within the bucket. Not bad. She tucks a few falling strands of hair back behind Wheein’s ear, revealing bright red ears.

 

Even better.

 

There’s a lively fluttering within her heart that seems to be breaking free from decades of ice.

 

 

“Let’s go.

 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

They’re walking side by side on the sidewalk after it ends, Moonbyul’s arm anchoring a very spirited Wheein gushing on and on about the movie.

 

“Did you like it?” Wheein asks, blinking starry eyes at Moonbyul, leaving her unable to look away. “Did you like tonight?”

 

“I had an amazing time. Really.” Her eyes turn to twinkling crescents as Wheein beams back at her.

 

“I’m Wheein. By the way.” The girl tenses momentarily and Moonbyul stops alongside her. “Even though you never asked,” she mumbles.

 

Because I already knew. But Moonbyul plays along, pretends to be caught by surprise. “Sorry! Must have been caught in the moment. I’m—“

 

“Moonbyul.”

 

 

 

This time, Moonbyul is the one who freezes in place, thoughts running through her mind a mile a second.

 

How does Wheein know—

 

 

“I can’t believe you never asked me. Not all those times we met.” Now, Wheein’s grumbling to herself, and Moonbyul’s slightly siderailed from her thoughts while she fawns over how impossibly adorable Wheein looks when annoyed. “Why are you smiling like that...”

 

Moonbyul blinks rapidly and recomposes her face. “I-I was just a-admiring your face.”

 

“You do that to all the girls you never ask the names of?” Wheein sniffs and looks down, muttering, “Can’t believe I’m getting so worked up over this.”

 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” Moonbyul hastily amends, hands awkwardly at her sides. “I—How did you know my name?”

 

“I thought I just told you that it was from when we met before.” Her eyes narrow accusingly as she continues, “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

 

“Definitely not!” You’re supposed to be the one to forget.

 

“Well, you seem to forget about your promises quite often.” With a huff, Wheein scuffles back.

 

“I—“ Moonbyul stops herself. “Sorry,” she says instead, head bowed. It’s a bit true, after all. “It’s just…I’m kind of a forgettable person. Many people don’t remember meeting me. Are you sure you’re not confusing me with someone else?”

 

“You’re still saying that after I just said your name?” Wheein tries to scoff, but already her brief moment of anger has passed, amusement replacing the fire in her voice. “You confused? I understand a bit of what you’re saying though. The memories are a little fuzzy. But I’m lucky to have that to remind me.”

 

Wheein brings her bag to her front and slides her hand inside. Moonbyul tiptoes, head tilting side to side to try and see whatever Wheein has hidden within her bag. Wheein laughs, hand coming out to gently nudge Moonbyul back a few steps.

 

“It’s this. Don’t laugh.” Wheein her lips nervously when she hands a travel-worn but well-kept notebook to her, felt cover grazing against her fingertips. “I’ve had a habit of keeping a diary since I was young. Maybe from when I was around ten? I got it as an anonymous Christmas present along with this scarf.”

 

“And you remember meeting me through this?” Moonbyul gazes down, lips twitching. Fate has always been thorough. Leaving a loophole this big… She rubs a thumb over the threading of a moon on the surface, remembering the hooded figure she bought this from in their black market, and the sly smile that accompanied it. One that she had assumed was a business front, but may have instead been a silent triumph defying the hands of fate.

 

“I’ve written down the times I’ve met you. It’s way more than I expected. I don’t know why I keep forgetting, either.” Across from her, Wheein flips open the notebook to the first few pages. “But every time I write it down again, I read what’s in the past, and then I remember bits and pieces. Sometimes, I’ll remember the entire thing, like when you gave me your jacket on the way home from the party that one night. I’ll be able to remember what you said and how you looked. But sometimes, all I’ll be able to remember is your silver hair, your smile, and that one bouquet of flowers.”

 

 

Her eyes follow the flipping pages.

 

 

 

There’s a light sketch of the snowglobe she gave Wheein for Christmas that year, on the windowsill, below a framed, full moon.

 

 

 

There’s a photo of Ggomo and Wheein taped to the side, with a little scribble below it, noting, “Ggomo now has amber eyes~ Where did that silver go?”

 

 

 

There are pale white petals from a flattened flower, intricately taped within the notebook, with a single ‘Moonbyul’ scrawled beside it.

 

 

 

There is even a small paragraph near the end that describes that night she walked Wheein home, down to the very number of buttons on her shirt, to the lingering smoke on the jacket she lent, to the size of her hands when she so bravely mustered the courage to hold hands with her for the first time.

 

 

 

 

 

Moonbyul’s breath quickens, chest thundering and heaving as Wheein’s emotions are laid bare across the thin blue lines and smooth parchment.

 

“And tonight.” Wheein scratches the side of her face with an anxious expression. “I kind of saw you in the theater through the doors by chance. So I just randomly bought the first ticket I saw to come in and talk.”

 

“It wasn’t by coincidence?” Moonbyul’s lost for words.

 

“Of course not! I was going to movie hop if necessary, if I had bought the wrong ticket. But I got lucky. With the movie and with you.”

 

 

Her heart throbs when Wheein’s bashful little smile follows the confession. Trying to remain composed, she continues flipping mindlessly through the notebook until the pages turn up blank.

 

With a small ‘o’ of surprise, she backtracks to the last page etched with black ink, curious of what Wheein’s last memory could be.

 

 

 

 

Her eyes are still scanning the letters, rereading them over and over in her mind when Wheein begins to explain, red as a tomato.

 

“I wrote that in the bathroom earlier because I was worried that I might forget tonight.” She tugs the sleeves over her small hands, hiding her trembling fingers. “I didn’t want to scare you away. I just don’t want to forget moments like this. When I’m able to be so happy. When—“

 

Moonbyul folds the hand holding the book up, letting the pages flutter past those last words. However, they’re still there in her mind, running laps now, over and over, and she chuckles at Wheein’s adorable purity.

 

 

She grabs Wheein’s hand, tugging her close until their bodies meld together until the moonlight. The hand holding the book wraps around Wheein’s back, keeping her in a snug embrace and she gazes down at Wheein, tenderly, questioningly.

 

When Wheein makes no move to struggle, and just looks back up, not quite at her, but not away either, burning cheeks clear as day, Moonbyul hesitantly gives Wheein a quick peck on the forehead, neck tense as she waits for a reaction. Should she not go overboard—

 

 Wheein lets out a muffled laugh and snakes her arms between them, around Moonbyul’s neck.

 

Then in the blink of an eye, Moonbyul’s nearly falling as Wheein tugs her head down roughly for their lips to crash against each other, molding with a ferocious, yet sweet intensity. Moonbyul tilts her head to get deeper into the kiss, arms clinging as she pulls Wheein even closer to her, closer than even the link between them. Wheein hums softly in the middle of their kiss, fingers threading through the silver tresses of Moonbyul’s hair, making sure she’ll never forget again, making sure she’ll never let Moonbyul just leave again.

 

 

 

The dropped notebook falls on its side and then lands on its side, cover finally snapping shut over those last words.

 

 

 

I love you, Moonbyul         <~~~ DO NOT FORGET

 

 

 

When they break apart for breath, an idiotic grin lingers on Moonbyul’s face as she rests her chin on Wheein’s head, whose face is buried in her chest to hide her shyness.

 

She’s sure the words she’s about to say will resonate within that cavity of a chest, where her heart’s finally learned how to properly beat.

 

And Wheein’s the only one who’ll be able to hear it, even beneath the thunderous roar of fireworks going up in the sky.

 

 

 

“I love you."

 

---

 

*Happy New Year's, everyone! Was meaning to post this right on the dot, but got a little delayed. 

Hope you enjoy!