“…Make your conversation quick or you will be misled…”

  He dragged the conversation with the old lady too long. That’s how they came to target Soojung. He cursed at his misfortune and felt the weight of guilt drop onto his chest like a hammer on concrete as he realised the immediate danger Soojung and Jessica were now in. He panicked to himself, desperately trying to find a course of action. He didn’t have the choice of calling his father; Seok Tae would believe the pub called for him, further putting more people under threat.
  He had to find the box before they did. It was the only way to gain any form of advantage. He could use it as a bargaining chip for their safety.
  His mind raced, running like an overheated engine, trying to figure out how to find it as he stood outside the closing pub.

   “…You will find directions to the hiding place written inside an old, unmarked envelope sitting under a white cat…”

  He scoured through his memory for a white cat, searching for even the most trivial of recollections in the hope of finding something even remotely related to a cat, but he drew a blank as white and flat as a whiteboard.
  He groaned and buried his face in his palms. It was no use. He hadn’t seen a cat all day much less a white one. All he had seen were a couple of dogs.
  “Wait…” he muttered, his head snapping up as he recalled Yira’s prophecy. “…It’ll be lost once the clock strikes five…what closes at six?” His eyes grew wide and his arms dropped to his side. “The shopping center! It's the Asian supermarket!”
  He had seen a Chinese lucky cat on the desk at the supermarket. It was an inanimate object except for its paw but it had been painted shiny and white, waving as if beckoning him into the room.
  Before he could even think further, he took off back towards the direction of the shopping centre, running as fast as his legs could take him, weaving through crowds and leaping over any obstacles that stood in his way.
  The day was growing increasingly dark, the sky a gradient of orange and blue. He checked the time on his watch. It was only ten minutes until the placed closed, and access to the letter would be lost. He prayed desperately to god for him to make it.
  He saw the shopping centre in front of him and dashed through the glass doors. The place was empty save for a few people in the process of leaving, and half the stores were closed and the other half midway through closing. The time on his watch told him he was five minutes late.
  He ran to the supermarket but his heart fell into his stomach. The store front gates were pulled down to the floor, with only a pale light shining through the gaps.
  Taehyung groaned and cursed profanities, feeling like he could almost cry. He his heel and ran out to the back on the thin hope that the loading area was still open, but when he arrived, he found the door shut tight and locked.
  He punched the door, a bang echoing through the cave like loading area and he fell to the ground, his back pressed against the wall as he shook his head.
  “What am I supposed to do now?” he hissed.
  The envelope held the clue to where the box was hidden. He realised that the manager of the supermarket must have been the male friend of Jessica who passed them their letters.
  His eyes opened wide and he stood up straight. What else did Jessica tell him? They always secretly met outside to avoid detection, café’s, parks, and gardens.

  “…Beneath a flourishing growth in full bloom, surrounded by many others just like it…” he recalled. “A garden!”
  He pulled out his phone and searched for the nearest public garden before leaping to his feet and running out to the car park.
  It was Gangnam Gardens, exactly north from where they had met Seok Tae a few days ago.
  He sprinted out into the street, running like an Olympic athlete chasing after a gold medal. He was tired and out of breath, his legs aching and sore. He regretted his decision not to use his car today, but at his current place he was too far away to retrieve it.
  The day darkened into night and the sky turned a flat, navy blue. The moon emerged from the hills and the stars started to show their glimmer. The day had been sweltering but the night was equally as cold, but Taehyung couldn’t feel anything aside from the heated sweat on his skin.
  He almost missed the gardens when he arrived. The entrance was modest and obscured by trees, seated at the inner corner of a street that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale.
  He was careful as he walked down the stone steps, the path steep and uneven, and the stone worn down from decades of use. He forced his breath to slow for fear of being heard although he could not see a soul in sight.
  Water bubbled in a small waterfall beside him as he travelled through the garden, the bushes rustling with animal activity. The breeze rustled the leaves and the moonlight cast every surface in a dreamy glow like the scene of an old poem.
  Even Taehyung was calmed by the garden’s soothing presence, slowing his pace to a quiet walk. His eye caught the sight of a metal bench with the backing shaped like lace, sitting directly under the crescent moon. He imagined Yira sitting there, looking just as serene and peaceful as ever, and she’d see him and smile.
  Taehyung shook himself from such thoughts. Now was not the time. He needed to find the box. With all his luck the mafia may have already gotten to it before him.
  A small splash beside him made him look down. Within the rippling, artificial pond, he could see a number of small, golden fish, blowing bubbles towards the surface.
  There was a stream in the water, although small and Taehyung’s eyes tried to follow where it went. At the very edge of the pond on the opposite side, the water slid down into a place blocked by a low hanging branch.

  “…One marked by white and the other by orange…”

  “Koi…” he murmured. Koi fish came in white and orange colours. He realised there were koi ponds deeper into the garden.
  He followed the stream, leading him further down through a series of stairs. He was met with a number of dead ends but each time he retraced his steps and tried a new direction, until he stumbled upon a cluster of trees, each heavy in bloom with a flower whose colour he couldn’t quite tell in the darkness. On each side stood a long pond, white koi fish swimming on the left, and orange on the right.
  A breathed a sigh of relief, and entered into the gathering of trees, following the stone steps. A look of vexation grew upon his face as he realised that every tree was almost identical. There was no way to tell which the box was buried under, and he didn’t have the time to search all of them.
  He groaned and sighed, standing still and allowing himself a moment to think. As he stared at a bare trunk, he was reminded of a trend in his primary school to carve things into the wood. He himself had made a heart shaped with his elementary school ‘girlfriend’ in an old tree.
  A vague idea entered into his head and he went around, checking the trunks of every tree, although sceptical he’d find anything outside from the normal markings and scars received in a tree’s lifetime. But as he arrived at the centre of the garden, the moonlight illuminated a side of the tree and he saw tiny scratches, bare visible, in wood reading:

J.J & H.Y

  A smile broke out on his face and he immediately looked to the ground where he saw a patch of earth yet to be covered by the growth of grass.
  He bent down and started digging with his bare hands, scooping away the loose dirt as fast as he could. A sweat formed on his forehead and his brows knitted in a tight, fearful frown. He had to hurry, he wasn’t sure how much longer it would be until Seok Tae arrived. His fingers met with a hard, hollow sounding surface and his heart rose. Hurriedly, he brushed away the dirt, revealing the shape of an old antique box. He pulled it from the earth and opened the lid.

  “Drop it, son.”

  His heart froze. His body grew tense and unmoving like a statue, the dirt crumbling from his hands to the ground. The bright light of several flashlights shone behind him, illuminating the trees before him in spots.
  “Turn around,” ordered a voice, emotionless and cold.
  He rose slowly from the ground, his movements smooth but mechanical, as if afraid to sway even a step out of orders. He turned around, his hands still tight on the box and his thumbs beneath the lid. His eyes caught the harsh, white glare of the flashlights, Seok Tae’s men shining them directly onto his face.
  He saw Soojung hunched over, crying and heaving shaky breaths, still in her black and white waitress' uniform, struggling to breathe through her tears. She looked to the ground; her hands were bound behind her and gripped by a man as big as a house and just as strong and unmoving.
  Seok Tae stood before them all, dressed impeccably in a grey suit with a blue pocket square, appearing as if he had just left a high end restaurant. The look on his face was proud, but firm, his eyes looked upon him coldly but the corner of his mouth twisted up in a smile.
  “You got guts, son,” he complimented with sincerity in his tone. “True bite and and determination so sorely lacking from this current generation. You are just like your father.”
  Taehyung made no reply but his eyes narrowed and his mouth curled in a snarl.
  “But this is where it ends,” he ascertained. He stretched out his hand. “Give us the box son.”
  “Don’t call me son,” he growled.
  The man smiled and showed him his palm. “Give it.”
  He stepped back and hid the box behind his back. “Only if you let her go, and abandon your search of her sister.”
  The man started to chuckle, a low stutter in his breath at first before erupting into full blown laughter. “Who do you think you’re talking to, boy?” He lifted his hand and a dozen black guns raised behind him. “You want to bargain? We’re the ones with the guns.”
  The back of Taehyung’s neck grew cold and his resolve began to weaken. His heart beat rapidly, pounding in his ears, but through sheer stubbornness, he kept his face emotionless. He glanced to Soojung, her face twisted in fear and her eyes desperately begging him to do something, anything.
  Seok Tae raised his hand again, looking calm and expecting. “Now, I’m not looking for a scene. Just hand over the box son, and you can go home. No one needs to get hurt, and I’d rather not give your father a personal motive to catch me.”
  Taehyung looked down to his hand, tempted to give in, but he knew either way it would end badly for Soojung and Jessica. No matter what he did he couldn’t escape. The men blocked his only entrance, their guns glinting in their hands.
  He stepped forward, hesitantly, unwillingness radiating off his person but fear overpowering it. Seok Tae smirked. He did not seem impatient, giving Taehyung all the time he needed for he knew the ending.
  With another slow, shaky breath, he stepped forward again, lowering the box and shutting the lid. Soojung sobbed softly behind Seok Tae.
  The men lowered their guns and gradually, he moved away from the tree, sweat forming on his skin as he approached the awaiting man. With reluctance, he shakily gripped the box, preparing himself to raise it and place it in Seok Tae’s hands.
  “Stop.”
  All persons fell silent at the soft, but final voice ringing with calm authority sounded from behind them.
  They turned around and saw Yira behind them, standing at the entrance. Her eyes were calm, her hands in her pockets. She wore the same dress Taehyung had seen her in that morning, but now she wore a thick, olive parker around her, slightly off her shoulder and the hood hanging low behind her neck.
  The men parted, giving Yira a clean, straight path. She walked at her own pace and the men seemed unnerved by her presence, as if unsure of what to do except give the young girl a wide girth. They looked to their boss for direction, but his eyes dropped to Yira as she stopped before him.
  “Kwon Yira-ssi,” he greeted with a warm smile.
  Yira smiled back. “Let them go,” she said. Her tone was not demanding, but she spoke with the certainty and finality.
  “Yira!” he began, in a jokingly begging tone. “I beg of you, I can’t grant you that wish. I have a business and livelihood to preserve, I’m sure you understand.”
  Yira waved her hand. “You can keep the box and the documents,” she said. “You can let Soojung-ssi and Taehyung go.”
  Taehyung looked at her with shocked eyes, pleadingly asking what she was doing.
  Yira gestured to the box. “How about this? Taehyung will not speak of this to his father, and Soojung-ssi can remain silent. It is unlikely that she would want to testify against you in a court after all given the consequences. Taehyung will hand over the box, calmly and quietly, and after that we can all return home. I’d prefer not to be late for dinner.”
  Seok Tae chuckled but replied with the same questioning in his tone. “Yira, how can you possibly guarantee this?”
  “I’m your fortune teller.”
  “And what are the consequences if I don’t obey?” he asked.
  Yira smiled. “Guess.”
  A moment of tense silence hung in the air, all eyes on Seok Tae. Yira waited patiently, her tranquil gaze never leaving the man as he carefully decided. Taehyung felt frustratingly anxious. He could withstand danger and fear as long as things were moving. Waiting filled him with restlessness.
  Soojung whimpered, her lips moving rapidly as if she were uttering a prayer. She stared at Seok Tae, begging for him to accept.
  Seok Tae looked at Yira, gave her a resigning smile, and sighed. “Alright. It’d be a shame to lose your valuable services, and I’d prefer not to suffer the consequences. You drive a hard bargain.”
  “Lower the guns,” she ordered.
  The man dropped their arms, and with a nod of Seok Tae’s head, the house like man released Soojung, and she stumbled into the ground, shaky hands shot out to catch her and she remained on all fours, desperately trying to regain strength in her weak limbs.
  “Give it, boy,” Seok Tae commanded.
  Taehyung looked to Yira and she nodded. Reluctantly, he stared Seok Tae in the eyes, the man returning nothing more but a dull gaze, and he placed the box in his hands.
  “Thank you, boy,” he said before turning around.
  Yira stepped back until she was beside Taehyung. With her arms crossed, she looked to their retreating backs slowly filing out of the garden. “See you next time,” she said to his back.
  Seok Tae raised a hand and waved. “Looking forward to it, Kwon Yira-ssi.”
  As the last man stepped out of the entrance, the two were left alone in the dark, with Soojung gasping for breath on the ground with the release of adrenaline flowing through her veins.
  The wind rustled through the trees, releasing petals into the air, and Taehyung gripped his hand into a fist.
  “Unhappy?” she guessed.
  “Yeah…” he grumbled. “They still got what they wanted.”
  Yira breathed out a low breath of air that fogged in the air. “But you still got that.”
  He raised his hand and beneath his dirt covered fingers, a sparkling diamond on a platinum band shined under a ray of moonlight, casting twinkling patterns onto his skin.
  “Yeah,” he said. “Took it out while you were busy talking.”
  “I’m sure Jessica would be happy.”
***
  She cried when he returned the ring.
  She fell to her knees and held the ring between both hands as if in a prayer to her passed near fiancé. She sobbed with relief and the flood of old memories that would nevermore be remembered any clearer than that day.
  When her sister appeared, shaken but unharmed, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, clutching so hard it appeared she could break her in two,  and she cried even harder, the ring lay forgotten in her hand.
  His father knew nothing of the events, but scolded him for staying out late and returning covered in dirt. Taehyung kept his mouth shut, not wanting to test his father’s poor health with the unnecessary stress and remembering the promise Yira made to Seok Tae.
  The weekend passed and before Taehyung knew it, it was the end of a mundane school day and he stood in the corner of Yira’s little room, the candles smoking with the scent of incense.
  Yira sat behind the cloth table, quietly counting a wad of bills given to her by the last customer. With the bills separated and counted, she tucked them away under the table and rested her hand on the table.
  “There won’t be any more customers today,” she told him. “You can go home.”
  Taehyung said nothing, but grunted in reply.
  The last grains of sand dropped in the hourglass and from outside a clock chimed four times.
  “You know, Jessica came by the other day,” she said.
  Taehyung’s ears pricked up and his eyes turned. “What did she want?”
  “Nothing,” she answered. “She came to say thanks. I told her it was mostly your effort, but she thanked my intervention as well. She wants me to pass on the message to you.”
  “She already thanked us enough when we returned it…” he mumbled, feeling unworthy of the woman’s excessive praise.
  “She wears the ring on her finger now,” she continued. “But she says she plans on burying it once again when she’s ready, once she’s finished mourning the loss of her fiancé.”
  “She’s going to bury it again? After all that?” he questioned with a look of disbelief.
  “It’s what’s best. She’ll move on after she’s put her feelings to rest. Too many people dwell in the past under the notion that it is romantic to do so, but she understands what it means to move on. She’ll grieve, she’ll live. She won’t forget but she’ll be happy in future, and I’m certain Hwayi would agree. After all, he chose a smart woman.”
  “I guess…” he mumbled.
  Yira waved her hand. “And after that I gave her some advice and a short reading and she went off her way. She’s living with her sister again, and they’re planning on starting a business together. A fashion business.”
  Taehyung remained silent in the dark corner. He was happy for the sisters but something else weighed on his conscience.
  “Still unsatisfied?” she asked, looking to the tight frown on his face.
  Taehyung grumbled bitterly, looking to the floor with his arms folded. “They got away…”
  Yira shrugged. “Everybody involved escaped unharmed. No one got hurt and everyone got what they wanted.”
  “Yeah, but so did the wrong people!” he growled. “Seok Tae got the evidence when they shouldn’t have! They deserved to be exposed and arrested. Now they’re just going to continue hurting more people and get away with it!”
  “It couldn’t be helped.”
  “My father has worked so hard on this for years and it was so close…”
  Yira sighed, and looked at Taehyung, her gaze becoming still and unmoving as if she were observing, seeing through him into something far away before closing her eyes in a slow blink.
  “You shouldn’t be so impatient,” she advised.
  “Why?” he questioned, frustration in his tone.
  “Who’s to say you won’t catch them some other time?” she asked. “You do plan on being a policeman or detective don’t you? The son can always continue the father’s work. You can always catch them again, at a better time, in a better place.”
  Taehyung released his folded arms and his eyes opened in a look of cautious hope. “Really? Do you think I’ll get them?”
  Yira looked away and began packing her things. “Who knows? Maybe sometime in the future.”