“The pieces I am, she gathered them and gave them back to me in all the right order.”

— Toni Morrison, Beloved

There would always be repercussions from everything you do, every choice you make, let it be good or bad, big or small. Always, without missing a single beat. Just like how the Sun rises from the horizon every morning, or how a favorite tune of yours random rings in your head when you are just crossing the street. Just like the endless cycle of life and death.

If something is true, it shall always stay true. But then, what even is truth?

Standing on this uncanny land of stimulation, Seungwan finds it hard to even breathe properly. She has to constantly remind herself to breathe in, and then out, one, two, in, out, in……. Some truths are subjective and measurable, while some are just relative. Just like food preferences, or that Rashomon film. Maybe there is not a singular, absolute Truth at all.

Out.

One, two……

Instead of finding definite answers like “this is that” and “such is why”, Seungwan just wants to put an end to this nightmare. She just wants people around her to be happy. She just wants to be happy.

But why is this so out of reach? Why is this such a battle?

“She’s stable now,” Yerim squints her eyes at the sunlight which they have long missed. “Hyunjung said we might have what we need to wake her up at the Noah’s Ark lab.”

They have sailed for almost five days, a bit longer than estimated. There was only darkness since their third day on the sea. Sojung had patiently explained to the group that it was a sign they had officially entered the bridging zones between the bases where neither the Sun nor the Moon would shine. Most of them have been losing sleep. For many different reasons though.

Seungwan, whose dark shadows under her eyes are getting more and more evident each day, looks over her shoulder and sees Ryujin being carried on a gurney by Dawon and Dayoung, “It’s just that we don’t know who’ll be expecting us there.”

“We have the map for this base,” Before running to join the two women, Seulgi stops by and greets Seungwan, who notices her rifle’s safety is now off. “The lab shouldn’t be far. All of us should move as a team and we should move quick.”

Seungwan can only give the officer a firm nod and turn her attention to another woman whose expression is unreadable—which might be a natural-born talent, or a nurtured trait because of her profession. Either way, it does not make this woman less scary.

But Wendy, Seungwan, knows this woman, just as this woman knows Seungwan.

“I can go stay with Ryujin,” Joohyun tries, eyes fixated at the tip of her leather shoes. “I’m not the type that can fight. But I want to help.”

“That’s so nice of you, Ir- Joohyun.” Ignoring the voices in her head with all her might, Seungwan wishes she had the power to just focus on Joohyun’s soothing tone at this very moment. As weird as it sounds, it feels like a salty breeze after a drizzle, the fingers that brushed past her left cheek when they reached out to fix that naughty lock of hair escaping from her knit cap, a hug that tugged her to sleep at a snowy night.

Her mind wanders off, while her feet are nailed to the floor in front of this woman from Daegu.

“No, don’t be. That’s the least I can do.” Joohyun studies her face in the same way she used to study a judge, following and tracing her every movement, in silence. She dares not to raise her voice to disturb this strange peace that entraps the both of them in a void of the unknown.

“Thank you. I really mean it.” Seungwan looks up to look for Joohyun’s smile. The lighthouse at the shore. The sight of Joohyun somehow helps Seungwan forget the future that awaits. She is now just a woman standing in front of her, smiling, waiting, anxious, relived.

And Seungwan is not disappointed. So she starts to think—who gave her the name Irene? What a brilliant mind! If God truly exists, what was in their mind when they created Joohyun? Is Joohyun one of their favorites? Did God send her as a savior to the world with her beauty and grace, or, as a destruction?

There is this warmth in her chest that feels too familiar for her own good. Seungwan remembers.

There is this a hand that pulls her back to the days she once forgot. Like how that hand pulled her into a warm embrace by that frozen lake many, many years ago.

-

“Thinking outrageously I write in cursive,
I hide in my bed with the lights on the floor.
Wearing three layers of coats and leg warmers,
I see my own breath on the face of the door.”

— Sufjan Stevens, “The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is Out to Get Us!”

There was one winter where her posh parents had decided to send her to this camp, one year before her sister spilled her deepest secret to everyone. Seungwan had been an introvert growing up. She was not always bright and bubbly. She did not learn to put on this façade until this winter.

A camp for interpersonal skills, they said. For some reason, Seungwan missed that one held in the summer. Probably because she had convinced her parents that she would like to focus on her schoolwork before a new schoolyear began.

Seungwan always preferred winter, because she was not afraid of the cold at all.

“You are such a warm person.” There was this girl once said.

Seungwan remembers rooming with her and four other girls around their age. She remembers laying on the bottom of the shared bunk bed with this girl sticking her head down from the top asking how things were at the end of each day. She remembers befriending this girl on the first day because they were the only two girls of the same ethnicity and similar cultural backgrounds—it was almost an instant click.

Falling in love used to be easy.

Even when people around them told her it was wrong.

When they got bored, they ran mindlessly in the snow after lunch, playing tag, with just the two of them. When they got tired, they flopped down onto the heated floor of the bedroom, strumming some old guitars they found lying around the dorm.

When the moon peeked through the curtains, they huddled together and talked about everything in their lives over a mug of hot cocoa. When the sun found its way to the foot of their bunk bed, they cuddled closer under the thick blanket as they always ended up on the same bed, nonetheless.

Seungwan remembers it was her who taught her how to play guitar, it was her who got her into singing, it was her who managed to turn every chore a great fun, it was her who held her face in her two hands like it was the most precious thing in the world, it was her who kissed her for the very first time.

Love was easy when love was young.

“Oh, I am not quite sleeping.
Oh, I am fast in bed.
There on the wall in the bedroom creeping,
I see a wasp with her wings outstretched.”

But none of them actually said the word “love”, ever. And Seungwan was already old enough to know why something was better left unsaid.

She sighed by the half-frozen window, watching her hopping around trying to build the perfect snowman. She sighed into the fireplace as she threw in a few small pieces of wood they chopped earlier as a team-bonding task. As if her feelings would just disappear along with the smoke up the chimney.

It was supposed to be a 20-day camp that she could not wait to get over with. It was supposed to be just a small fragment of her life that she would just grow up and forget.

How come she is still holding onto the remnants of this teenage glory?

Not long after, she came into the room and joined Seungwan with an injured hand.

“Oh my, what happened?” Seungwan rushed to her side but regretted soon after. She was supposed to put an end to this stupid thing, to make her life less miserable when they had to go on their separate ways. “You were fine just a moment ago.”

“Ugh, I accidently cut myself with a chipped rock. But Miss Mack has helped me clean and dress the wound, so I’ll be fine.” She raised her bandaged hand for Seungwan to see. And then the next thing she lifted was one big smile, “Hey, have you been watching me?”

The 13-year-old Seungwan jumped on her spot and turned away, “No! Just spotted you when I was walking by the windows… to get something.”

“Alright,” She chuckled, “Just asking.”

Seungwan decided to switch topics, “So, I guess no more guitar practice for now?”

“Oh, right! Sh- No…….” She lamented while plopping on the old, dark, musty sofa.

“No cursing at the camp! And well,” Seungwan shot her a teasing smile before reaching out for her guitar, “It’s been an honor to be your guitar buddy. But I guess now it’s time for me to go solo.”

She pondered for a second and used her uninjured hand to stop Seungwan from strumming, “Wait! I have a better idea, and you would love to hear it.”

“And it is?”

“You, be my right hand.”

It took more than a minute for Seungwan to find herself sandwiched between her and her guitar. Her cold, humid hair tickled Seungwan’s nose as much as she herself tickled Seungwan with her presence.

Her left hand was on the fretboard but her eyes had never left Seungwan.

Just like how Seungwan could never look away even when her brain told her to.

So why was she backing away if the person she loved happened to love her back? Was it because people said it was wrong to love someone of the same ? Was it because she was afraid that the next camp her parents were sending her to would be a conversion camp?

Why was it wrong to love her if everything just came so naturally? It took no lesson for Seungwan to know that she was in love with her. She needed no teacher to tell her how to feel or not to feel for someone.

It was when Seungwan made her decision and landed her fingers on her chin instead of those strings.

And it was also when Seungwan first learned how a kiss tasted like.

“Oh, how I meant to .
Oh, how I meant no harm.
Touching his back with my hand I kiss him,
I see the wasp on the length of my arm.”

It felt like seconds, but also years. It felt like it was not her body that she got a hold of but Seungwan’s little, poor heart. It felt like an instinct to kiss her back and whisper her name under her breath.

The name she probably did not have the chance to call ever again. They both knew there would be no next time. All of this would just fade away when spring came again and recolored this place with shades of green.

Seungwan rested her tired head on her shoulder, and she started to cry.

But it did not surprise her, as she quickly wiped her own tears before cupping Seungwan’s face in her hands like she always did. She tried to memorize every detail, every contour, every curve as much as she could, she tried to get Seungwan to look back at her, “Remember me, ‘kay?”

To which, Seungwan gladly complied, “Okay, Chaeyoung.”

“All of my powers, day after day,
I can tell you, we swaggered and swayed.
Deep in the tower, the prairies below,
I can tell you, the telling gets old.
Terrible sting and terrible storm,
I can tell you the day we were born.
My friend is gone, he ran away,
I can tell you, I love him each day.
Though we have sparred, wrestled and raged,
I can tell you I love him each day.”
 

Eventually, Chaeyoung’s family came pick her up first. Seungwan could only sit and watch their branded car drive away. Though Chaeyoung did bring that old guitar home as promised and left Seungwan her numbers, Seungwan knew what was going to happen.

Seungwan simply did not have the courage to call. She did not have the courage to lie to her parents that she wanted to call a “friend” from the camp. She did not have the courage to barge into Chaeyoung’s regular life. She did not have the courage to ask Chaeyoung, who went to church every Sunday, who aced all her subjects, who was part of the cheerleading team, if she still remembered her from that damned, freezing camp.

Once alone and out of that isolated place, she lost the courage to confront herself and to accept who she really was. Not until her sister read her diary and snitched on her to their parents.

Not to mention the fact that Seungwan had chosen to leave that guitar at where it was, back at the campsite, where it belonged.

Funny how Seungwan did learn some interpersonal skills from the camp.

But Seungwan did not have the chance to open the closet doors and stride out with pride—instead, she was pulled out from that locked closet and shamed for her dishonesty. Oh, she could never win, could she? If someone had to film a documentary of her life, they would probably frame this as her villain origin story. All serial killers had a tragic, traumatic childhood, right?

Seungwan was twenty-eight when she was arrested. During her time at the cell, she once wondered if Chaeyoung had ever seen her miserable face on TV. Would she even recognize her? What would she think? Would she feel disgusted and sad like her ex did? Would she be glad that she had run away back then?

But here is how the story goes—even when Seungwan fell so deeply in love with someone else many years later, Seungwan still thought of Chaeyoung on snowy days.

Yes, Seungwan remembers her. Seungwan remembers Chaeyoung as much as Wendy remembers Roseanne.

Those were the days when Seungwan felt the safest, the freest, and the most loved. And those days were long gone.

But it does not mean Seungwan has forgotten how to love. Not when she still has a daughter to save.

-

“Who are you?” A hue of green flicks in Hyunjung’s right eye, a telltale sign of the woman being on high alert. Standing behind her are Dawon and Dayoung who already have their weapons ready and loaded. You cannot blame them when you are not expecting any guest in this supposedly secured wing of the lab.

“I was about to ask you the same, miss.” The newcomer in the black military suit retorts with a small smile. The tag on her chest reads “Hwang” and her sharp, feline-like eyes kind of reminds the others of a certain drug task force officer.

Speaking of which, Taeyeon, being the oldest and thus supposably wisest in the room, notices the distinctive emblem on the front arm of this woman’s suit, “So, you’re a Spectre.”

“Well, professor,” Unfazed by the statement that sounds too much like an accusation, the woman proceeds to make her way towards the unconscious girl on the bed, “You’re surely smart. And you should be smart enough to know that I’m here to help her.”

“I reckon you aren’t here alone.” Hyunjung swiftly takes a sidestep and blocks her way, “And what are the things you know that we don’t?”

Turning her attention from the girl to the solemn women, the Spectre lets out a soft chuckle, “Well, where should I even start? Maybe there is this tube of agent that can stabilize the chiral matters forming in the body of any time-traveler?”

“A reaction inhibitor?” Asks the young doctor as she bolts up from the chair by Ryujin’s bedside.

“What is chiral matter?” The young physicist gasps in both excitement and worry at the same time.

But then, Taeyeon seems to have already pieced together the puzzle, “Wait, so you must also be a time-traveler.”

“I’m really impressed, professor.” The stranger gladly nods before pulling out the said tube of agent from her front pocket. “Here’s another tip—you have all the materials in this lab to make this agent. Our people have the formula. And one doze is not enough for our stay. Ah, and you can call me Yeji.”

“Uhm,” The lawyer who has been sitting at the corner of the room finally speaks, “Yeji, I think I need some explanations too, for this.”

Yeji at first is taken aback by the USB drive in Joohyun’s hand, but soon regains her composure, “Ha, Minkyung would be so happy to see you alive.”

“Irene!?” Taeyeon, however, loses her balance and trips on her own foot, not being able to process the fact that the lawyer has been hiding such a big secret from everyone until now. “Where did you get this?”

“From the helicopter that I came with,” Joohyun can’t help but frowns at the memory of a certain unpleasant experience. “I found it in my pocket when I woke up. I dared not to tell anyone about this, especially when you guys might suspect me or something, and was waiting for the right moment. I was stupid though. I’m sorry.”

Yerim, who has received the agent from Yeji, reaches out to give Joohyun a pat on the shoulder, “It’s okay. But you can trust us. We have been through so much together after all! Girl, if it wasn’t you, I might have died at the university!”

Yeji cracks another smile as she fixes her eyes on the girl who is still soundly asleep, “Miss Irene, you can keep the USB for now. And Minkyung is not here, but she will soon. We need as much help as we can get. Including Wendy and Ryujin’s.”

“So with this agent, Ryujin will be just fine?” Hyunjung, as someone who seems to know best about the Spectres and the Noah’s Ark, makes the decision of trusting Yeji. “What about Wendy? What do you guys want from her?”

“You have my words. Ryujin’s my best friend.” Yeji heaves a deep sigh and signals Yerim to prepare for the injection, “And remember, I also need this agent to stay alive in this dimension. As for Wendy, maybe you should ask the question of what Wendy wants from us instead.”

“What do you mean?” Sooyoung has her hands on her hips, trying to make sense of all the intricate relationships here. Hell, she does not even know who this Minkung is. Is it another Spectre with superhuman powers as well? “How do you know Wendy? Other than being Ryujin’s, hm, mother?”

“She told us to come after……” Yeji abruptly pauses, unsure what she can disclose to these people. “Long story short, she sent us here.”

Joohyun thinks she cannot be more confused than she is now.

“Which means,” Taeyeon has to look away when Yerim injects the agent into Ryujin’s arm, “The future Wendy who also has a daughter put together a masterplan to save the world by sending you guys back to the past to stop the Order? While having her daughter to come might or might not be part of such plan?”

“Which also means Wendy is actually the leader of the Spectres?” Sooyoung curiously adds. She urgently needs a whiteboard to draw a chart so she can keep up with all the names and terms.

“You guys are almost there.” Yeji’s fingers slowly wrap around the necklace in front of her chest, “It’s Minkyung and Eunji’s idea to form this watchdog thing to keep track of the Order. I can’t say for sure what Wendy’s plan exactly is or why Ryujin was sent here after we did. This part I’m going to save it for Ryujin herself to explain. But you’ll have to wait for another hour for her to wake up.”

Hyunjung carefully monitors the vital signs of Ryujin as Dawon and Dayoung are getting ready to head out, “Understood. What’s next?”

“I think we still have some time.” Yeji checks her wristwatch and reassures the woman who always looks so tense, “But first, there’s somewhere else we need to be. And oh, Chaeyeon, you too.”

The college girl almost throws up when her name is called.

Sooyoung, on the other hand, wishes her name was also called so she could get to look at that stupid face of the drug task force officer again and know that she is okay.

-

“Seungwan, talk to me. You’re scaring me.” Seulgi shakes the woman lightly after a long silence. “You have zoned out for quite a while now.”

“Sorry, Seul. I’m remembering things.” Seungwan rubs her temples, “But…… But I don’t understand.”

Luda, having observed Seungwan’s weird antics for the past thirty minutes, begins to see the bigger picture here. Being the mechanic of the team does have its perks. “Memory is difficult to recover if erased. It’s not like recovering data from a hard drive. Let alone you are not just having a recollection of your own past, but you are also attuned to precognition after the Rupture.”

“Right, just take it slow.” Chaeryeong puts down an empty syringe on the table and Yuna quickly hands her a bandage. “It must be overwhelming.”

“And you don’t have to worry for Ryujin right now. Yeji is bringing her the agent as well.” Lia turns around and continues to type away on the computer. “Sorry to ask but, Wendy, how much do you ‘remember’? What are you seeing?”

“I- I…… hm,” Wendy’s body tenses up again at the mention of her daughter’s name. “I think I ‘remember’ why I need to be here.”

“As in the lab?” Seulgi needs more answers, more. And with the Spectres around, does it mean that they now have more help, and that they are safer? She has surely connected some dots though, like she finally understands how the Spectres can stay anonymous for so long—simply because they are technically not born “yet”.

A voice echoes from the corridor before the shadow can reach the door, “As in the present.”

“Minkyung! You made it!” Lia does a little clap once she sees the woman.

“Wendy,” Minkyung immediately greets the woman who recognizes her too, “Good to see you. I know it’s weird but, gosh, I miss you.” She would have given her a hug too but, well, it is not exactly the Wendy she knows and it is not exactly the occasion for a gleeful reunion. Whereas nobody really knows what Wendy knows, not even the Noah’s Ark, not even the Spectres, not even the Witkin’s specimens.

“Yeah, we can catch up later, Minkyung.” Seungwan wobbles her way to the computer and joins Lia as Seulgi worriedly watches. “How much time do we have?”

“A couple days. A week if we are lucky.” The girl chirps, as cheerful as she always is.

“Wendy, you must rest first.” Minkyung softly pushes the woman and gives the drug task force officer an apologetic smile. “Hey, you must be Seulgi. Where are my manners? Nice to see you.” She swears the trained officer is going to age like fine wine, and she would kill to have genes like that.

“You, you know me?” Seulgi struggles to keep shut ever since she has met Seungwan, as if her world has been flipped upside down and she has to relearn everything.

“Why can I not?” Minkyung shakes her head and looks for Wendy’s permission to continue, “You’re Wendy’s best friend. And she has entrusted you with the honorable task of…… Well, burying her. Many years later, of course.” Yes, buried. Six feet underground. And that’s why Minkyung is so hesitated to hug her. So uncanny.

All of a sudden, Seulgi understands how Seungwan has been feeling.

-

“No need to thank me. You have thanked me enough, Seungwan.” Joohyun whispered into the thin air as the ocean breezes played with her raven hair. But Seungwan still managed to hear her loud and clear. Maybe it was because of her enhanced senses.

There is always something different about this woman, Seungwan thought to herself. For instance, she did not even flinch after learning Ryujin is somehow a daughter of two women. She did not back away when Enoch almost killed Seulgi and when she killed Enoch. She is not scared of her. For a petite woman she is, she has such a big, strong heart.

Seungwan would like to think that she deserves none of this. How come a terrible person like her deserves such a loving daughter? How come the great task of “saving the world” lies on her hands which who has blood all over? How come a woman who is stuck between her past and her future falls in love while standing still?

“Joohyun, I need you to help me.” Seungwan let her voice falter, letting her façade slip as this woman with her classy suit pants walked away with Hyunjung. She wanted Joohyun to hold her hands again like she did back on the ship.

Joohyun, I need you to pick up my broken pieces and put me back together.

Wherever she goes, the small frame of Joohyun’s is still at the corner of Seungwan’s eyes. Even after everything in her life is gone, something is staying for once. It lingers and haunts her like a ghost.

If there is an ending where she will eventually die, where will Joohyun be? If Seulgi will be the one who buries her, where will Joohyun be? If Seungwan ever tells her that she needs her, where will Joohyun be?

If Ryujin is her future daughter, where will Joohyun be?

#"Chiral matter" is a term I borrowed from "Death Stranding", a game I truly enjoyed. 

This chapter is fairly short but it surely is packed with the info you want! 

And Rosé will make her apperance in the latter part of the story too.

Sorry for the lack of Wenrene interaction in this chapter. They will surely interact a lot more in the next one ;)

Anyway, I'm updating this very slowly (because life ) so I really appreciate for your patience.

I'm so happy that Wendy is back!

Hope you are all staying healthy. 

xo