Karina was lucky.

Well, no, that was categorically untrue, and if nothing else the fact that those people were here at all was proof enough that Karina was the single unluckiest human being alive. But at least when they had arrived, Karina had been out of sight, hidden in the shadows of catwalks, free to freeze and crouch down and watch them parade around The Pigeon like a testament to Karina’s poor luck, unseen. 

It was yet another time Karina was happy with her decision to move her cot up to the catwalks. The Pigeon catwalks were expansive and complex, an elaborate twisting maze of wrought iron paths and railing with occasional platforms interspersed between them. Best of all, no one ever went up there. It increased the risk of insects for sure, but it also promised that the platform Karina had set up by one of the rickety ladders was safe from discovery. And it meant that Karina could see the albeit infrequent comings and going of guests to The Pigeon before they could see her, something she was increasingly thankful for as she watched them chat with Giselle.

Karina didn’t recognize the woman she was with, with her orange hair streaked with red and numerous piercings that glinted up at Karina as she laughed at whatever joke Giselle had told, but Karina definitely recognized her. She looked the same, as improbable as it was. In the interim years since everything had gone down, Karina had grown to look almost nice. More respectable. But her? She still had the same dark bob with a shoulder-length straight perm that still framed her regal cheekbones that same way that demanded your attention. She still dressed the same, casual tee shirt with slightly ripped jeans, and even from the distance, Karina could see the same self-sure smile on her lips. How did she do that, Karina had always wondered. How did she always look so confident in everything she did?

Karina was so caught up in her musings that she didn’t hear the clanging of footsteps on metal until Winter called out to her.

“Unnie?” Karina turned to see a wide, relieved grin break across Winter’s face. “There you are. Christ, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Did you see who we have down there?” she asked excitedly as she made her way over to Karina. “That’s Shin Ryujin and Hwang Yeji! You know, from ITZY? They have that hit Youtube Channel too, the Paranormal Seoul?”

“Yes, I am aware,” sighed Karina, wishing she could share Winter’s enthusiasm. “I, however, thought that they held our Institute in a rather low regard and wouldn’t deign to come here.”

Winter stopped next to her and leaned on the only slightly rusted guard rail. “I take it you’re not a fan then.”

Karina shook her head. “No more a fan than they are of me.”

“Is that why you’re up here then?” Winter asked, failing to mask the amusement in her voice. “You’re hiding?”

“I’m not hiding,” corrected Karina. “I’m not a child Winter. I’m...avoiding.”

Winter bit her lip to batter down the grin threatening to completely overtake her face. “Avoiding.”

“Yes, avoiding,” snapped Karina. “There are some things I’d rather not deal with at nine in the morning. Or at all.”

Winter tilted her head at her. “What, did you insult their ghost shows with your skepticism thing?”

“I’ve been getting better at the skepticism thing,” muttered Karina.

“I know. I’m proud of you unnie.”

There was a funny feeling in Karina’s chest. Probably vertigo. She forced herself to tear her eyes away from the trio of women now circled around Ryujin’s phone. “Thank you. But it’s not that. Ryujin...Christ.” Karina rubbed her eyes tiredly, partially so she wouldn’t have to see Winter’s expression. “Ryujin and I dated in Uni.”

“Really?” Winter’s grin was audible. Because of course it was.

“Yes.” Karina fixed her glasses and Winter with a glare. “You’d better not breathe a word of this to Ningning or she’ll be insufferable.”

Winter held her hands up. “I won’t, I won’t. Just...it really must not have ended well.”

Karina laughed and leaned onto the railing too. “No. There was a fight. Well, a series of them. I said some things, she said some things.”

Winter’s grin faltered. “Was it...was it about the ‘A’ thing?”

Karina snorted. “No, she was fine with that. Her problem was with my—Christ how did she phrase it...my emotional constipation.”

“Emotional constipation?” The laugh that bubbled out of Winter was loud enough that Karina was sure it was going to alert the people below of their whereabouts, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Among other things, yes.”

Winter smirked at her. “So you’re hiding from her.”

“Avoiding.”

“So you’re avoiding her.”

“I’m certainly trying to.”

“Are you going to do this any time an ex of yours comes to file a report here at the Institute?” Winter asked, jokingly, though with an odd intonation Karina couldn’t quite figure out.

Karina shook her head and let out a noise that might have been a laugh. “No. Unless my grade school boyfriend comes all the way from Gyeonggi-do to exact revenge for a particularly embarrassing date, I don’t think we’ll have to deal with this situation again.”

Winter did actually laugh at that, sounding oddly relieved. “Do I even want to ask about the date?”

“No, you do not.” Karina ran a hand through her hair. “What about you? Any exes I should worry about?”

“Probably not,” Winter shrugged sadly. “Honestly, I don’t think I made a big enough impact on anyone for them to swear a blood feud on me.”

“Ryujin didn’t ‘swear a blood feud,’” pointed Karina.

“And yet you’re still hiding on the catwalks.”

“You...may have a point.” Karina nudged Winter with her elbow in what she hoped was an at least semi-reassuring manner. “And I’m sure you’ve got your own coalition of blood feuds hidden away somewhere. I can’t imagine you not making an impact on someone.” For some reason, Winter blushed at that and looked down at the desks below them. “Though maybe not blood feuds. You’re too damn pleasant.”

Winter looked back at her  with an attempt at a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Try not to sound so annoyed about it unnie.”

“I reserve my right to be annoyed at your pleasantness,” Karina groused. “Your exes have probably got a whole shovel talk prepared for anyone who wants to date you demanding your proper treatment. Mine would probably warn you away. ‘Get out while you still can’ and all that.” 

Winter still looked bizarrely flustered. “I’m sure you’re not all that bad.”

Karina snorted. “What part of all this would appeal to you as a girlfriend?” she asked, taking a step back from the railing and gesturing to herself.

Winter looked like a firetruck in the sunlight. She was practically glowing red, like heated metal. “I...I don’t know." Winter brushed a hair behind her ear and looked down with a faraway smile. “You’re pretty–nice.”

“Pretty nice.” Karina raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Pretty and nice, and yes, you,” Winter corrected and insisted, looking back at her eyes gleaming. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror unnie? And you’re nice, you care about people, though you don’t really know how to show it most of the time.”

Karina scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”

Winter just ignored her. “And you’re smart and clever. You’re so passionate about the randomest things, and whenever you get into the flow you get this frankly adorable look on your face—”

“Adorable?” spluttered Karina, expression a combination of confusion and horror.

Winter’s blush deepened. “Some would say adorable, yes.”

“I am not, nor have I ever been, adorable, ” she insisted.

“You didn’t see yourself go on an hour-long rant about how you hate social media for demonizing Math.”

Karina sank back down onto the railing. “It is the language of the universe. Why are they treating it like the devil? And it… it wasn’t an hour.”

“Ningning timed it, and it was just about.” Winter grinned at her. “And your contronym rant was longer.

“They don’t make any sense, Winter!” Karina exclaimed, annoyance in her voice. “They’re utterly redundant.” She squinted at Winter. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” asked Winter innocently. Like she didn’t know, this annoying thing.

“Like I’m making an adorable face.”

“But you are!” Winter protested. “Well, not so much anymore. Now you just look kind of pissed off.”

“That’s because I frequently am,” Karina grumbled. “Another reason I make a truly awful romantic partner.”

“It’s endearing.”

Karina gestured down at Ryujin, who was listening to Giselle and Yeji talk excitedly about something with a barely contained giggle. “There’s someone down there who would disagree.”

“She’ll have to take it up with me then.”

Karina rolled her eyes. “Lord.”

“Same with Gyeonggi-do boy if he comes over here with a grudge,” declared Winter.

Karina rolled her eyes again, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Oh my white knight. Things like this are how I know you made an impact on your partners. If you’re willing to fight the disgruntled exes of me, of all people, one can only imagine what you’d do for someone you actually like.”

Winter looked affronted, like the notion she didn’t like Karina was a stain on her reputation. “I like you.”

“I meant like romantically,” Karina corrected, which elicited a weird laugh from Winter for whatever reason. “What?”

Winter shook her head dismissively. “Nothing. I think Yeji and Ryujin are heading out.” Karina glanced down again to see Ryujin and Yeji hugging Giselle goodbye. “You think it’s safe now?”

Karina watched them until the heavy door to The Pigeon clicked loudly into place behind them. Karina took her first free breath since she’d seen them enter and nodded at Winter, relieved. “Yes. We should be alright now.” 

Acting on muscle memory, Karina led them to the closest ladder down. It wasn’t until Winter’s disappointed sigh that she realized her mistake. Karina’s shoulders shot up as she tensed at the sight of her cot and few scattered clothes, but Winter’s just sank down.

She didn’t even look over to Karina, but her disappointment was palpable. “Unnie...”

Karina hated Winter. Why had she let herself forget that? What, because she was nice? Because she spent the night working with her? Because she made Karina feel safe and happy and appreciated? It was embarrassing. That wasn’t Karina. Karina was a misanthrope, a , the personification of a grumpy cat, she was, in short, not the sort of person who should be befriending people like Winter. People like Karina hated people like Winter. 

Karina clutched the lockpick in her bony fingers tighter as she made her way towards The Pigeon.

 Suspended. For four goddamn weeks.  

Karina hated Winter. She kept reminding herself as she ranted silently about her current situation.

Suspended and for what, diligence? Putting time and effort into her work? God forbid any of her co-workers show the same initiative. 

Giselle made her remove her sleep effects, took her key, and told her in a stern voice that she’d better not see her back in The Pigeon until her suspension was over. She’d told her to take a break, to get a hobby, make a ing friend. But she underestimated her resolve. If she couldn’t get to her files the old-fashioned way, that was fine. Inconvenient, but fine. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter, she was going to get into The Pigeon, and she was going to get her file, and by the time she got back from her suspension she was going to have that damn Go Jumong case solved. 

She crested the hill before The Pigeon’ side entrance; a creaking ancient thing that was more rust than iron and posed far more of a threat to Karina’s ability to get in than the padlock fixed to it. Karina’s calves screamed as she walked, but she ignored them. She had work to do. Even now she could see the door in all of its red-brown glory, and—

And the two women sitting in front of it, fiddling with the lock. The taller one, Yeji, was crouched down in front of the door with something in her hand that looked like a bent out of shape bobby pin. And next to her, tilting her phone so Yeji could see the video she was playing on it, was Ryujin. Karina froze where she stood. Should she bolt? She very much wanted to, and despite the protests from her legs, she could probably sprint away if she needed to. But then again, there was the door and her file. So few of the cases in The Pigeon were so misfiled and intersected so perfectly with Karina’s interests than of #8163103. The supernatural elements, the historical implications, the fact it was written as a letter to BOA, the founder of the institute...no file had ever piqued Karina’s interest like this one. And sure it would be hard to look into as it was two hundred years old, but what was a Masters in history and years in research even for if not this?

Karina was still mulling over her course of action when Ryujin adjusted her weight and idly flicked her eyes around, looking at nothing in particular until her eyes landed on her still frozen in place.

Ryujin straightened and furrowed her brows at her. “Karina? What are you doing here?”

Arduously, Karina forced herself to walk towards her and speak. “I...I might ask you the same thing, Ryujin,” she managed.

“You first.”

Karina folded her arms and scowled. “I work here. And you?”

Ryujin folded her arms too, though she didn’t need to scowl at her; any set expression pointed down at her did the trick. “The Manager gave us permission to use the library.”

“And that’s why you’re fiddling with the lock to The Pigeon?” Karina asked, nodding at Yeji, surprised to have any sort of upper hand in this reunion.

Yeji didn’t even