Taehyung wandered the school. Younger graders played handball on the courts, teachers patrolled the grounds, and kids sat in circles on the concrete, gossiping as they ate their lunch. The line to the food stall was long, and made even longer by teachers cutting in line.
  Taehyung searched the grounds for Yira, but it was a lively day and it was near impossible to spot a single person amidst the ocean of youth.
  People tended to mark their territory. Cliques made claims on specific spots in the school and stayed there for years, but Taehyung had no idea where Yira may be. Loners often travelled, weaving in between the more concealed areas of the school.
  He approached a friend by the vending machine.
  “Hey Jimin, do you know where Kwon Yira might be?” he asked.
  “Who’s that?” he replied as he stood up with a cold can of sugarless Coke.
  Taehyung sighed. “Long black hair, dresses like a boho hippie chick?”
  Jimin took a few seconds to think about it. “Oh, you mean her? The one with all the bead bracelets and necklaces?”
  “Yeah, that’s her,” he nodded.
  “Why are you looking for her?” he questioned as he opened the can with a hiss of released gas. “You interested in her or something? I mean, she’s hot yeah but she’s a little off.”
  Taehyung frowned at him. “Get your mind out of the gutter; I just need to speak with her.”
  Jimin jerked a thumb behind them. “I’ve seen her a couple times under that tree behind the school. Check it out, maybe she’s there.”
  “Thanks, man.”
  Jimin waved the coke can at him before moving off. Taehyung headed towards the back of the school towards the hall. The gathering of students grew sparser and sparser as he continued; only a few kids remained by the silver benches.
  He reached the end of the building and turned around the corner, where he found a wiry old tree by the fence casting a shadow onto the figure sitting beneath it, young girl alone on the grass, shuffling a deck of cards in her hands.
  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he told her as he approached.
  Yira made no gesture acknowledging his presence, focused on her cards as she spread them out on her lap with her turquoise ringed fingers.
  “You need to give me your number; it’d save me all the hassle.”
  “Then you should have asked earlier,” she stated.
  Taehyung muttered under his breath but he extended a hand. “Come on, we’re getting to work.”
  “Must I join you?” she asked in dull drone.
  “Yes!” he replied snappishly.
  Yira sighed, long and hard, drawing out the time as long as possible and irritating Taehyung. But finally, she slipped the cards into one neat pile with a flick of her wrist, and took his hand.
  She was light he noticed, dainty almost, but her grip was steady and strong, her willowy stature firmly rooted to the ground. Her necklaces swayed as she stood up, her almond eyes still as she looked at him expressionlessly.
  “Uh…okay, where do we start?” he asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.
  Yira shrugged. “It’s your investigation,” she said. Her eyes looked to the side, focused on something far away.
  “We can go around asking some of his friends,” he suggested. “From what the Park family said, I think I have a pretty good idea of who they are.”
  “The majority of them are in Busan with Chundong,” she reminded him. “Drinking themselves senseless and stupid on a fake ID.”
  “Yeah, but some I know some other guys who know them, come on.”
  He led Yira through the school, looking back every few seconds to assure she was following. She looked disinterested, flipping her hair and adjusting her jewellery. She made little sign that she was associated with him, but she kept a few steps behind.
  “Where’s your friend?” he asked in an attempt to make conversation.
  “I’m assuming you mean Yoojin,” she said. “I believe she’s in the library.”
  “Why isn’t she with you?”
  “Is there a need for her to be?”
  “Isn’t she your friend though?” he questioned.
  “Does it relate?” she asked.
  Taehyung looked at her disbelievingly but her eyes were already looking away, staring straight ahead at someone behind him. He turned to see a skinny boy walking by, a donut in one hand and a can of drink in the other. His eyes lit up as it was just the person he was looking for.
  “Hey, Hong Jisoo!” Taehyung called out, jogging to catch up.
  “Hello, Taehyung,” he greeted back, trying to swallow the food in his mouth before speaking.
  “Have you seen Mir and Lee Joon, or any of the others around?” he asked.
  “No, not really,” he replied, taking another bite of his donut. “Why are you asking?”
  “I need to talk to them about something.”
  “Now that you brought it up, I haven’t seen any of them lately. I don't know. Ask Kim Mingyu, he might know.”
  “Sure, I will thanks.”
  He turned back to Yira. “Do you have any idea where he is?”
  “Why are you asking me?” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.
  “You’re the psychic,” he pointed out.
  “I thought you didn’t believe in such things,” she reminded.
  “Can’t you just tell me?” he growled irately, not wanting to admit aloud that his opinion changed. 
  Yira rolled her eyes but she pointed behind them. “He’s in the cafeteria.”
  “Thank you!” he replied in exaggerated fashion before grabbing her by the wrist and heading towards the canteen.
  When they arrived under the roof of the cafeteria, he scanned sea of faces for Mingyu, quickly finding him by the trash can, dumping the remainders of his lunch into it. He wasn’t hard to miss. He was abnormally tall for his age and he had dyed his hair a grayish blue.
  “Mingyu,” Taehyung addressed him.
  “Hi,” he replied. “What’s up?”
  “I need your help, I’m looking for Lee Joon and the others but I can’t find them.”
  “Well, no wonder since they all took off on vacation last week. Too much money to burn I guess, I’m surprised they haven’t gotten suspended. They’re parents are probably covering up for them.”
  Taehyung groaned. “So they’re all gone? All of them?”
  “Nah, Lee Joon came back already. He’s just away because he got sick in Busan. He’s at home with a cold.”
  “Alright, thanks,” he replied. He turned to face Yira but was surprised to find the place where she stood empty, but after a quick search he found her taking refuge from the crowd by the nearby wall.
  “Looks like we’re going to have to go to Lee Joon’s house,” he said as he approached her. He expected Yira to object or make a comment, but he realised she had fallen quiet. Her arms were folded and her head tilted to the side, watching something with a stern expression.
  “Yira?”
  She blinked slowly, as if to erase what she saw before she turned and faced him with an expression as blank as a sheet of paper.

  “We’re not going to finish this before it gets dark,” she predicted, her tone strangely tinged with warning. “You’re going to drive me home.”
***
  The two of them stood before an impressive house. Sleek and slim like the edges of a new computer. The walls were painted a warm grey with accents of red with a clear glass railing on the balcony. The grass was cut precise to almost the millimetre, and just behind the back gate, the two could see the edge of a pool.
  A low, admiring whistle escaped Taehyung's lips. “Wow, what I’d give to live in a house like this.”
  “It’s not in your future.”
  “Wow, thanks a lot for pouring cold water on a dream.”
  “Feel lucky,” she said, looking to the house with a look of distaste. “Wealth can be poison to youth, as we’ve seen with your friends in Busan.”
  “It just made them a little reckless, it’s normal for teens.”
  “Money,” she began. “Tends to give people entitlements. They start believing that the world owes them a good life and all the things that implies.”
  “And people aren’t supposed to want that?” he questioned.
  “The world doesn’t owe you anything,” she replied curtly. “Not a single thing. Not food, not safety, not even life. Too many people become disillusioned with fate because they think bad things shouldn’t happen that they were cheated because they happened. People aren’t owed a thing. Everything they want and need must be worked for.”
  “Wow,” he said with a frown. “You must be fun at parties.”
  “It’s the truth,” she shrugged. “And it’s not an excuse to abandon your humanity. Just because bad things will happen, doesn’t mean you have the right to let it happen or to cause it.”
  Taehyung went ahead and pressed the doorbell. “So tell me,” he began as they waited. “What is in my future?”
  “Do you want to pay to find out?”
  The door opened and they were greeted by an overweight man on the late side of middle age. He slid his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and squinted at them over the frames. “Yes, who are you?”
  Taehyung put on his most respectful tone of voice and smiled. “Hi, we’re friends of your son and our teacher asked us to give him an important school assignment.”
  “Oh, well thank you for making the trip. Come in, come in!” he invited. “He’s upstairs in his room.”
  The interior of the house was more impressive than the outside, with polished floors and classic furniture sets; it was quite appealing to the eye. Black and purple geodes alongside decorative figurines sat on glass shelves along the walls, and family photos of vacations all over the world hung from the walls.
  “Wow…” he uttered. “My family has only been to Jeju Island. They went to Japan and China.”
  “Not my idea of a holiday destination,” said Yira. “Too many relatives in one.”
  They knocked on a door with Lee Joon’s name burnt into a wooden slab stuck to the surface.
  “Come in!”
  Entering, they found Lee Joon in a white wife beater with a green jacket draped over his shoulders and broad shorts with a laptop on his lap as he sat up in bed.
  “Hey Taehyung, didn’t think I’d be seeing you in my house,” he greeted, sounding cheerier than what was expected of a sick person. “Hey, aren’t you Kwon Yira? Are you two dating now? I heard you broke up with-”
  “Can you not bring that up?” he cut in. “I know. Also, we’re not dating,” he added, sounding slightly disappointed.
  “So what are you here for? It’s not like you to suddenly pop into my room to wish me well.”
  “I told your dad we’re here to pass you and assignment but that was a lie.”
  “Good idea, my dad wouldn’t have let you in otherwise.”
  “I know, I’ve met him before when he chased us all out of that party,” he laughed. “But we’re here because we were wondering where Mir, Chundong and the others went.”
  “Why would you worry about that? They’re on a little break overseas and-”
  “They’re on an unnamed beach in Busan,” Yira cut in, her tone loud but firm, silencing the room. “By an eel pool where Mir’s currently receiving sun burn. You were there for two days until you made out with a girl at a club, which is how you got your cold.”
  Lee Joon was stunned, looking at her with his mouth open and the mouse of his laptop slipping off the bed. “H-how did-”
  “The more honest you are, the faster I can go home,” she said with her tone as cold as the arctic. “So tell us, how to we contact Park Chundong? He left his phone at home but nobody would go on a trip without one.”
  “Wow, I heard rumours about you from my ex but you really are psychic,” he said.
  “She makes a good point, why didn’t he take his phone?”
  “He told me his phone was busted so I let him borrow my second phone. It’s still with him in Busan.”
***
  “Yes, no problem Mrs. Park. Just call that number and you can find Chundong. Yes, thank you. Good luck.” He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket.
  “Okay, Sandara and her mom are going to drive over there tomorrow. Hopefully they’ll make it in time before their dad finds out.”
  He pulled on his seatbelt and started the car, moving it out of parking and onto the road.
  “They’ll make it,” Yira said knowingly from the seat beside him. “They’ll tell him that he’s back from visiting the aunt, and they’ll make him get a part time job to repay all the money he stole.”
  “Oh well, that’s lucky for them.”
  “All the luck in the world’s not going to change the fact that their son is a moron,” she said. “He’s going to spend years working off the money and he’s still going to try and act like some rich playboy. It’s lucky for the sister though I suppose. The family will’s going to favour her quite a lot.”
  “I knew Chundong before though. He seemed normal, the studious good kid kind.”
  “Book smart doesn’t necessarily translate to being an intelligent person.”
  “I kind of feel bad for him though.”
  Yira shrugged and pulled her legs onto the seat. She leaned onto the door, resting her head against the glass and shut her eyes, appearing to sleep.
  The night was black and moonless; the scene outside the windows was dark with only the orange spots of passing tail lights to be seen. The car fell silent with only the rumble of the road beneath them.
  As he halted in front of a red traffic light, he turned to glance at Yira. She looked peaceful and serene, like a sleeping princess from a painting. He listened to the slow, soft breaths escaping her lips and watched the rise and fall of her chest, entranced as if under a spell.
As the light turned green, he chose to drive carefully, not wanting to wake her with the bumps and turns of the road. The time on his watch turned to seven.
  He turned into a long, empty road of no street lights. The only sight outside the window was the headlights illuminating the grey road, white stripes passing by them at rapid speed.
  He could only make out a few shapeless shadows beyond the road, the night as black and murky as ink in water. But as he sped up, two glints appeared ahead of them, like the eyes of a cat. But as it was hit by the light, he saw the figure of a little girl dressed in white, standing alone on the middle of the road.
  He moved to swerve but suddenly, a hand shot out to grab the wheel, holding it forcefully in place as they sped through. He yanked the wheel out of Yira’s grip and they spun on the road with the high pitched squealing tires before they came to an abrupt halt with a painful jolt.
  “What the hell did you do?!” he screamed, unbuckling his seatbelt with shaking, fumbling fingers. “We just hit a girl! We just hit a kid! Why did you do that?! What did you do?!”
  He fell out of the car and ran onto the road, his heart beating so hard he felt like he could vomit, but where the girl once stood, there was nothing. Not even a rock on the bare, black bitumen. There was not a person to be seen in the night.
  He turned around to see Yira calmly getting out of the vehicle, but his eyes looked passed her and up to the massive, shadow of a power pole, just narrowly missed by their car.
  He felt a roar in his ears and all other sounds fell mute. A heavy weight engulfed his entire being, smothering him as it dawned on him the near death that was looking down on him from the sky.
  He spun around, back to the empty spot. “W-where’s the girl?” he asked weakly, his voice on the verge of collapsing.
  “What girl?” she replied nonchalantly, as if nothing was wrong with the word.
  “Don’t give me that!” he snapped. “There was a girl here! Right here! I saw her as clear as day and you made me drive right through her!”
  Yira tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “And what did she look like?” she asked.
  “What?”
  “Can you describe to me what she looks like?” she clarified. “Hair colour, skin colour, clothing.”
  “She was wearing white and…” his voice trailed off as he realised the haziness of his memory. He couldn’t remember what she looked like. He knew she wore white but was it a dress? A shirt? He couldn’t say a hair colour, or even give a height. Just that it was a little girl in white.
  “You were probably just tired,” Yira suggested. “Let’s go, we’re not allowed to park here.”
  His arms dropped to his side and he stared at Yira with widening eyes full of realisation and cold, unshaking fear, his hand shivering uncontrollably.
  “You saw that girl too,” he whispered. “Or you wouldn’t have stopped me swerving.”
  Yira looked at him but she made no reply.
  “What is going on?”