It was a warm day of mild sun, where the streets were still empty of youth as it was still early in the school hours, but Yira herself was not in school.

  She sat alone in her little room in the corner of the store, and though there were no customers, she sat calmly at the ready in her most professional pose, her fingers laced together on the table and her eyes closed as if she were waiting.

  The smell of incense was dull that day, but thick in the air. The door ahead was shut tight, leaving only the dim flicker of the candles to light the room.

  One by one, rhythmically like the tick of a clock, the flames extinguished, wispy smoke dissipating in the air like ghosts. The room darkened before her closed eyes.

  The final flame died with a hiss, and in the darkness, she heard the flutter of wings.

  She opened her eyes and raised her head to see the dove hovering above the door, the space of the small room further cluttered by hangings restricting its movement. Despite the dark, the bird seemed to glow from its feathers.

  Calmly, she raised her open hand and the bird flew down, flattening into an envelope into her accepting hand.

  Picking up a pair of scissors, she carefully cut open the envelope and reading the letter within.

  Sitting back into her seat, she dropped the letter onto the table before uttering a low hum as if she were musing. The sound of a wind chime jingled from outside.

***

  The café was a modest little shop. Not the most fashionable of places but neither too shabby. It had the feel of a place that was an unspoken staple of the community, a regular sight that would be there for a long time.

  It was to be expected, but the café saw little teenagers on the early weekday, leaving Taehyung a rather noticeable figure sitting alone at a table in his uniform.

  He sat quietly observing the comings and goings of the customers around him, most of them workers from nearby shops on quick lunch breaks. A few gave him peculiar glances. Aside from appearing like a student skipping class, his uniform wasn’t of the area either. Taehyung had been surprised at the distance he had to travel to reach here.

  He held the napkin in his hand, the same logo in the tissue displayed above the barristers at the counter, the hiss of steam escaping from the machines beside them.

  After a while of simply watching, he gathers his confidence and approaches the barista. “Excuse me,” he asked.

  “Yes hun, what can I get you?” she replied, tucking back a stray strand of brown hair before hurrying to the register, but she paused as she saw his clothes. “Bit young to be out of school aren’t you?”

  “And what about you?” he questioned with a smile. “You don’t exactly seem much older either.”

  The barista laughed. She too appeared to be fairly young, sitting on the fence between adolescence and adulthood. “True, I’m not legally an adult yet, but I just graduated. What’s your excuse?”

  “I only had two periods at school today so I’m free,” he answered. “I’m not breaking any rules being here.”

  “Well, aren’t you lucky,” she grinned. “What can I get you?”

  “No, nothing thanks,” he replied with an almost bashful smile. “But do you mind if I ask you if you’ve seen somebody around here?”

  “Sure, shoot.”

  “Boy, brown hair, my age, has a busted lip?”

  The girl pursed her lips and looked up, trying to recall. “No… no I don’t think so. Then again I’m just the part timer; I only work here some days. Sorry but I can’t help you.”

  Taehyung sighed and rubbed his neck. “Thanks anyway.”

  She shrugged her shoulders and held up her hands. “Sorry.”

  As Taehyung prepared to leave and ask someone else, a thought crossed his mind and he pulled back. “Excuse me, but how about schools?”

  “What about them?” she asked.

  “Which of the nearby schools has students coming here the most?” he pried. “You know, kids coming here as their after school hangout.”

  “That’d be the kids in the yellow uniform, SOPA.”

***

  The entrance of the school consisted of a thick, brick wall partially covered by leaves. The path through the gates was long and winding, hiding any buildings from sight.

  Taehyung stood outside under the shade of a branch reaching over the brick, his phone to his ear as he called an old friend.

  “I don’t know what you’re looking for,” said his friend. “I’m on my lunch break.”

  “Just asking if you’ve seen anybody with a busted lip,” he replied.

  “Why? Did you cause it?”

  “Yes, but technically he started it.”

  “I don’t know man,” he sighed. “I’m new here remember? I don’t know everybody in my grade much less the whole goddamn school.”

  “He looked like he was our age though,” Taehyung described. “Brown hair, pretty tall, looks like the kind of guy that gets in trouble.”

 There was a musing hum on the phone.

  “I think you might be talking about Kim Jongin. He hangs out in the back of the school and smokes. I heard a rumour he got into a fight, I just didn’t think it’d be with you. What do you even want from him?”

  “He was vandalising uh… a friend’s workplace,” he answered.

  “Well I’m not sure he’d go quietly but good luck man, see you at Mark’s party on Friday.”

  “See you.”

  With a beep, he hung up and tucked his phone in his pocket, a grin growing in his face that he hid behind his hand.

  He had him.

  A quick trip around the school, and he found himself passing through the back gates through the sports fields.

  The sounds of children playing could be heard in the distance, but where he stood near the storage sheds was empty, the stale stench of tobacco lingering on the brick.

  Muffled murmuring sounded from behind a little square shed, and Taehyung stepped around to see three boys and a girl, loitering around in loosened school uniforms with smoke escaping their lips and cans of drink in their hands.

  The boy leaning against the wall, looked irritable and annoyed, a dark look on his face Taehyung recognised as a hangover.

  He raised his head, and his lit cigarette dropped from his bruised, cut lip. Taehyung grinned.

  “Gotcha.”

***

  Yira sat alone in the darkness, every last candle had long been extinguished and not even smoke remained. For how long she had been there she couldn’t tell, time was a concept unneeded to her, she knew only to wait.

  Finally, the hangings before her door clacked as if in a breeze and a single flame lit up before her closed eyes.

  “You never say hello,” she pouted teasingly.

  A weary sigh escaped her lips and she opened her eyes to see a single, small flame suspended above her table, casting a flickering, circular pattern like swirls in a pool as its light shone through her crystal ball.

  “I never needed to,” she answered.

  Jirin danced around her table, the flame swaying with her skips in perfect harmony. “But I guess I should be flattered you accepted my invitation this time.” She stopped and giggled. “And you waited.”

  She skipped off the floor and fell back as if she were dropping into a seat, but nothing but air caught her, yet she sat, legs crossed as if on an invisible chair, her shadow below her. “Ah…” she exclaimed in a long, satisfied sigh. “I really found a good candidate this time.”

  “I suppose you’re talking about Taehyung,” Yira assumed.

  “Uh huh,” she sang, looking pleased.

  “The spotted dog was a joke on your part,” said Yira, closing her eyes once again.

  “Bingo!” Jirin giggled, her brown hair brushing her shoulders. “It takes so much to get a reaction from you; I had to make sure he stuck around. My illusions don’t faze you.”

  Yira held out her hand through the flame, gently as if testing the waters. The fire at her skin, but she did not burn. “That’s because they have no effect on me,” she said calmly.

  “Aahh,” Jirin whined like a disappointed child. “That’s no fun.”

  “Your amusement holds no interest to me.”

  “That’s why I had to find a good chess piece,” she said, her eyes narrowing and her lips curling into a sly smile. “One that would be interesting to you.”

  For the first time, Yira looked amused; a breath escaped her slightly upturned lips in what could have been the barest of laughs. “I suggest you stop looking at Taehyung as a chess piece, Jun Jirin.”

  She tilted her head. “And why not?”

  “Start looking at him as a player,” she advise, her eyes looking at her, but seeing something far away. “He’s gained quite a bit of power now after all.”

  True, strong emotion twitched in Jirin’s face and she broke out into a grin, a spark lighting in her eye. “Your move,” she said. “You’ve made the pawn into a queen.”

  Yira sat back and smiled. “Our little game now has a third player.”

***

  The boy ran, but Taehyung was on his tail. With a swift grab, he had his arm and he twisted it back before pinning him to a wall in a lock.

  Jongin grunted and struggled, but grudgingly relented as Taehyung’s grip was firm and unmoving, clearly more than willing to wait.

  “Alright, who hired you?” he questioned.

  “Who says I was hired?” 

  “Don’t try that with me; I heard one of you say you wouldn’t be paid unless there was damage.”

  Jongin snarled and hissed. “How the hell did you even find me?”

  “You’re not that great at covering your tracks,” he replied smugly. “So tell me, how much did Ji Sukjin offer you?”

  “How did- who says it was him? Let go of me you !”

  “He’s using you, you should know,” he continued. “Pay a bunch of kids to do his dirty work. How much did he pay you? How does he contact you?”

  “Why the hell would I tell you?!” he growled.

  His voice dropped low, but sounded clear and concise, a hiss of threat. “Because if you don’t, I’m taking you to the police alone, and you can cope all the blame all on your own.”

  “I don’t freaking know man!” he yelled. “He drove around in his car and found us! He just gave me a number!”

  Taehyung wasn’t surprised. He guessed he should have been since a grown and powerful man could have easily adopted cleaner solutions, but he supposed the man really was dependent on Yira.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began, his tone commanding strict obedience. “I’m going to take you to the police station. You’re going to go quietly, and you’re going to tell the police everything you know. And you know what else you’re going to do? You’re going to call Ji Sukjin at the station, act casual, and tell him the jobs done while the both of you are being recorded.”

  Jongin grunted in objection but it weakened into a whimper.

  “Do you understand?” Taehyung pressed.

  From the hard red brick, Jongin's head lowered into a defeated nod.

***

  Late in the day, when the sky had turned glowing shades of pink and smooth orange beneath the swirling clouds, Taehyung yawned and stretched his limbs as he walked down Yira’s street.

  It had been a long day, the interrogation although successful, took quite a bit of time. Although Jongin had little choice but to comply, he was stubborn and gripped at what remained of his pride, growling like a dog at police.

  But they got them; all of them. All that was left was time.

  The shopkeeper’s bell tinkled and Taehyung stepped into the closed store, making his way into Yira’s little room.

  He was surprised to find it dark, not a single candle lit yet there was the strange smell of ashes lingering despite the cold of the room.

  Yira sat alone, her cheek resting on her fingers. She wore a thin blanket over her shoulders yet she carried it like a cloak, draping over her arms like trickling water; the effect more elegant than he knew possible.

  He gulped and stopped at the door, briefly loss for words.

  She spoke first, calmly and gratefully. “Thank you.”

  “Wha- excuse me?” he said, fumbling to find his voice.

  “Thank you for all your efforts,” she said, her voice smooth and warm.

  He cleared his throat and stepped into the room. “I haven’t said anything yet.”

  “Is it needed?” she questioned.

  “No, I suppose not with you…”

  She smiled.

  With his eyes adjusted to the dark, he finally took notice of her free hand, gently petting a small white dove, obediently sitting beneath her touch with a low purr rumbling in its chest.

  He froze. “… Is that?”

  “Yes,” she answered, continuing to pet the creature yet her face showed no pleasure from doing so. “Jun Jirin paid a little visit.”

  “What did she say?” he blurted out, his voice bursting with urgency.

  “We had a talk,” said Yira. “She has declared her next attack, and it will be different from the rest, although she gave no dates. I suggest you beware, Kim Taehyung.”

  He stood tall and determined; his eyes strong and independent. “Don’t worry about that. I have no intention of letting myself fall into another trap. I can help myself.”

  Yira looked amused. “Good boy.”

  Mild displeasure showed on his face at being praised like a pet, a pink tint rising to his cheeks. “I… Besides, I know what’s going on now. It’s just illusions for her right?”

  “Not quite.”

  “Huh?”

  She stopped petting the dove, and suspended her hand above its head. “Do you know how illusions work, Kim Taehyung?”

  “It’s just like a mirage isn’t it? Not real?” he asked, suddenly caught off guard.

  Yira closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “Jirin is talented. The existence of her illusions is debatable, but what truly keeps them bound to the term, is the simple fact that they have no effect on their physical environment. She can conjure a flame on a tree, yet after it vanishes, the tree will not be burned.”

  “So it’s fake then isn’t it?” he questioned. “It can’t actually do damage.”

  “No,” she answered. “Unfortunately, not. It’s different for people. Her illusions are not limited to visuals. You’ve encountered many of them, you should know. They target all human senses, touch, hearing, taste, and smell. To a person, her illusions truly seem real.” She looked to the bird. “Much like this dove.”

  “But it’s still not real isn’t it?”

  “To a person it is,” she explained. “Have you ever heard of the placebo effect? False medicine can be effective only because a person believes it to be. If only simple suggestion can have such great effect what if it were an illusion to all their senses? Their body and mind would be convinced of its existence, and in turn, fall to its effects.”

  She shifted in her seat and her jewellery jingled with her movement. “If you were to hold your hand out to one of Jirin’s flames, you’d feel the fire, smell the smoke, and see the flames. Your body will truly believe it, and in turn, your cells will die, and you truly will be burned.”

  “But I know it’s fake,” he insisted.

  “Even if you are consciously aware that it is just an illusion, if your body sees it, feels it, hears it; perceives it in every way, your subconscious and your body will believe it. It’s completely impossible for normal people to overcome their own psychology.”

  “So what about you?” he questioned, a sweat forming on his skin as fear grew in the pit of his stomach.

  Her face was blank, expressionless as she lowered her hand to the bird’s head. “Clairvoyance, retrocognition, psychometry, precognition- I have a set of additional senses that normal people don’t, and that Jirin is unable to manipulate. As a result, although I may still see it, feel it, hear it, I still have several more senses that tell me it isn’t there. Neither my mind nor my body can believe it.”

  She looked to the bird with empty eyes, still petting yet her hand absent of warmth. “And as a result, I can’t find myself enjoying such creatures. As you have said,” she sighed as it cooed. “They are fake.”

  “So what?” he questioned. “I’m still helpless?”

  “Knowledge is a tool,” she said wisely. “Now that you know how it works, use it. It’s never useless, you will see that, Kim Taehyung. However, it isn’t her illusionary ability you have to be concerned about.”

  “What?” he exclaimed in disbelief. “What else more is there?”

  Yira looked at him with wide, unreadable eyes that made Taehyung falter.

  “Haven’t you ever wondered?” she asked. “With Min Dohee. How Jirin was able to mimic her mother’s illusions down to details that she took with her to her grave?”

  Taehyung was silent. He had truly considered it. He had accepted what happened without question.

  “Illusions are not her true ability,” she warned ominously. “She mastered it as an amusement. Remember, Kim Taehyung: power over the dead is something that should never be taken lightly by the living.”