Instinctively, Yui bowed, tilting her whole upper body downward to signal respect. Then remembering that the Russian culture was different, she hastily got up and walked over to shake his hand.

He gave a dismissive wave, much to her relief.

“So, little girl, why are you here today?”

Be professional. Be calm. Be smart. Multiple peoples’ lives were riding on this conversation.

“I—I’m honored you remember the name of my family clan. Today, I am here to update you on our progress. As you may recall, my father, the current head, arranged an agreement with you a few weeks ago and—”

“Ah, yes, yes. Two hundred thousand USD, wasn’t it? You two seemed to have earned it remarkably fast.”

“Well, sir, to be honest, we haven’t quite met that goal yet—”

His smile decreased by a few molars. “Then why do you stand in my presence? And why is it that you are here, and not your brother?”

“Kouichi’s currently in the middle of some urgent business,” Yui said carefully. “He apologizes for not being here personally to greet you, sir.”

The man’s smile was fading fast. “I assumed that you explicitly understood,” he said darkly, “not to appear in front of us until you have acquired enough money. How else are we supposed to judge your skill? You cannot expect to rise to the top of the yakuza without being able to obtain even that little amount of cash.”

“It’s not that,” Yui said desperately. “There’s been a recent incident—perhaps you have heard about it—it involves a Korean man—”

The Boss scowled and leaned back into his chair. “So what? I know about it. The Tokudaiji boss already wired me yesterday, asking me if I could assist him with the matter.”

“Yes—” Yui nodded, as her blood ran cold, “But it would be much less of a hassle for you if we—that is, Kouichi and I—took care of it for you instead, right? What better way to prove that we can inherit the empire?”

The man laughed scornfully. “There is no ‘we,’ you little girl. Kouichi is the one who is clearly going to inherit your father’s empire; I don’t even know why he bothered to bring you on this test. Unless he believes he needs your help, in which case I have to say he does not seem very competent.” He raised his eyebrows. “And even with your help, the two of you cannot even manage to bring in $200,000 before coming to me. Frankly, it’s a bit disappointing,” he sneered.

Yui chose to ignore the insult. Her family could always redeem their name later. Out loud she neutrally said, “We heard that the Tokudaiji kumicho requested your help, but we are here to offer our services instead.” Before the man could get offended, she quickly added, “Not that we think you are incapable. On the contrary, we think it is too beneath you. The man is going to Korea soon, so the time window is very small. It just so happens that we are planning on traveling there next, so it would seem to make sense for you to delegate this annoying job to us.”

She glanced over at the animal heads again. “It will be like…killing two birds with one stone. Or moose, if you prefer.”

Her groveling seemed to appease him slightly. “And why are you so eager to take this job?”

“Clearly, there must have been some sort of miscommunication,” Yui said, taking wild risks. “The Tokudaiji kumicho must not have realized that since we were in the area, it would have been more sensible to assign us to the task. When he didn’t, we assumed that he would turn to you, since your gang dominates this region.”

She was being very careful with her words, choosing the ones she knew would flatter him. He wasn’t openly scorning her anymore, so perhaps it was working. “So Kouichi and I decided to search for you and offer to remove this insipid job from your burden. If you haven’t already acted yet…”

He merely snorted. “What is this man’s wrong-doing, that your father wants him dead?”

“He insulted our family pride,” Yui said enigmatically, “and therefore he must die.”

The mafia boss stared at her for a moment, trying to judge her last comment. “Very well,” he finally said after a long pause, “then do us all a favor and get rid of this man whom your family so hates.”

Yui bowed. “Then I can assume that you will not act at all in this matter? In order to pass our initiation tests without any sort of gray color, it will be best for my brother and me if we did not receive outside assistance.”

He merely looked bored. “Do whatever you want. But do not come back here again until you two have amassed the money you need to stand before me again.”

“I understand.” Registering his dismissive tone, Yui bowed again and turned to leave.

“And next time, I want your brother to come, too.”

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, she walked over to the exit, and allowed herself to be blindfolded once more. When she was finally released onto the streets, she took off running and didn’t look back. As her heart started pounding from the physical strain, she finally allowed her thoughts to catch up with her. She had already long realized that they would never meet again. For the conditions he asked for were unobtainable, and it was impossible to bring the dead back to life.

Yui was coughing. Panting slightly, she stopped in front of the majestic library again, and for a moment wondered if she should go in. Kouichi had either shut off her microphone and earpiece set, or it had finally run out of batteries; either way, she couldn’t contact her sister for the time being and could only merely hope that Kouichi would reach the same conclusion and return to the last place the two had stayed at.

She traced her finger along the marble walls, momentarily lost in thought. It was almost incomprehensible how such a place could simultaneously bring about both joy and pain... Making up her mind, she walked in through the gates and headed straight for the conference room, hoping to find it either unoccupied or inhabited by her only sister.

Kouichi wasn’t in. Yui took another breath and began powering up her laptop, clicking through several links before she found the one she was looking for. As her cursor hovered over the transaction page, she paused for a moment, doubting. Then with a strange determination and a sense of morality she couldn’t quite name, she closed some of codes she had been writing and proceeded to open up her bank account.

Eventually, Kouichi returned. The two sisters reunited with mutual relief over the other’s safety, and as Yui summarized her meeting with the Tambov gang boss, she noted the palliative expression that overflowed her sister’s face. “Yokatta,” she said weakly. “He’s safe for now.”

“But he won’t be forever,” Yui reminded her seriously. “The minute chichi-ue and the Tambov gang find out that we’ve tricked them…”

“We have no choice, then. We’ll have to be his bodyguards,” Kouichi said resolutely. “There’s no way he’s dying because of me. I mean, because of us.”

Yui smiled. “Already one step ahead of you.” She pointed to the computer screen. “I already reserved us tickets for tomorrow’s flight. We’re going to Korea.”

Kouichi nodded, and for a moment both said nothing, contemplating the situation. “How are we going to do this?” she finally asked softly. “Protect him, I mean.”

Yui could only stare straight ahead at the glowing screen. “I have no idea,” she said again, realizing that the phrase rather accurately summarized her recent inner turmoil. “I have no idea.”

After another one-night stint at a local hotel and then hitch-hiking a ride to the airport, the girls checked in through the main lobby. Upon passing through security and finding their terminal, they soon themselves at waiting room waiting for their flight to arrive.

“Do you see him anywhere?” Kouichi asked, scanning the crowd.

“Not yet…”

“Flight C1757 to Incheon, South Korea, boarding at 14:05,” the speakers blared. “First class passengers may now board.”

“Ah—there he is,” Yui called out. “Coming out from the V.I.P. room.”

Kouichi searched their tickets. “Do we have first class seating?”

“Sorry,” Yui apologized. “They were too expensive.”

Kouichi acknowledged the implications of the statement with a nod and didn’t comment on it. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter either way,” she said. “Airport security has always been pretty tight; I’m pretty sure no one’s going to try anything here, anyway.”

“It’s true,” Yui agreed, as the two then sat down and waited for their turn.

A few hours later, the captain woke them up through the speaker announcements. “Touching down in Incheon in half an hour,” he was saying. “The local weather is about 13 degrees Celsius. Expected time of arrival is…”

Yui opened her eyes and looked out the window. Next to her, Kouichi was stirring, too. A pretty flight attendant was walking down the rows, asking passengers to right their seats and put their trays back up. As she passed, Yui leaned over and whispered to Kouichi, “How do you feel? We’re almost in Korea.”

Kouichi merely shrugged, and then gave her sister a half-glance in understanding. “Don’t worry about me,” she said reassuringly. “I’m fine.”

It had already been over ten years now, after all.

Yui nodded, convinced. “But now that we’re almost here, we should figure out exactly what our story is. What are we going to tell him once we meet up again?”

Kouichi shrugged again. “We’ll think of something,” she said off-handedly. “We always do.”

Upon arrival, the plane passengers headed for the baggage claim. “Transport line 6, departing from St. Petersburg, Russia…”

He was up ahead, wearing a cap and sunglasses and carrying a light backpack. He seemed to be walking alone—no, wait, somebody in uniform just approached him.

Yui recognized her as being the flight attendant from the plane who had passed their rows maybe only half an hour ago. She talked to him for a few seconds, and then placed something small into his hands before turning around and walking away. As she passed Yui and Kouichi, their eyes briefly met, and something seemed to register in her facial expression.

The twins exchanged meaningful looks, and then sped-walked till they were side-by-side with the Korean again.

“Hey,” Yui said cheerfully. “Is that job offer still valid?”

He did a double-take. “What the—?!” he practically yelped, and then controlled himself. “What are you doing here?!”

On his other side, Kouichi took up the conversation. “We decided to work in Korea. How coincidental we were on the same plane.”

Behind his sunglasses, Ryeowook’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You two aren’t… sasaeng fans, are you?”

Yui honestly didn’t understand the term. “Come again?”

Ryeowook looked flustered. “Please don’t follow me around everywhere. I like my fans, but you have to respect my privacy—”

“Not at all,” Kouichi said distastefully, having apparently comprehended the meaning faster than Yui. “We are not fans.”

“What my sister means,” Yui said tactfully, “is that we are not trying to invade your privacy.” Without good cause, she silently added.

They reached the appropriate baggage conveyor belt. As the suitcases began slowly filling in, Yui tried again. “You said you needed language instructors, right? We’ll take the job.”

He wasn’t looking too eager. “I think that’s fine,” he declined politely. “It’s not my job to hire, anyway.” Yui frowned, annoyed by his lack of support. Though then again, she couldn’t completely blame him either, given how all of their interactions to date hadn’t exactly led to pleasant outcomes.

“Please just take us in,” Kouichi said desperately. He raised his eyebrows. “It’s, uh, well, your life is in danger—”

“What?!”

“Some of your fans took pictures of us with you and have been spreading them online,” Yui cut in. “There are some nasty legal repercussions with photographing a person without her express consent and then posting them online, and, well, we could sue—”

Now he was definitely giving them a weird look. “Are you threatening me?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes—well, no,” Yui corrected herself distractedly, glancing around at the other passengers. “You are probably being threatened, but not by us.”

He backed away a bit warily. “Please step away from me. This is too much.”

“Your life is in danger!” Kouichi cried. “You have to trust us. We want to help you—”

“Please,” he said, starting to lose his cool, “If it’s just an autograph you want—”

“Okay, I’ll prove it to you, then,” Kouichi said, grabbing the item from his hand. It was a powdered muffin wrapped in plastic wrap. With fluid motions she uncovered it and took a bite, taking a moment to close her eyes and savor the taste.

“Hmm, arsenic, I believe,” she said. Yui’s heart stopped. “Call the hospital, won’t you? Don’t forget to pick up our luggage.” Then the poison kicked in and she doubled over, convulsing and vomiting.

As Ryeowook cried out in horror, Yui grabbed his arms. “We don’t have cell phones. Where’s yours?”

“I still don’t believe it,” Ryeowook was saying.

“What’s so hard to believe?” Kouichi asked from the hospital bed. Due to the other two’s quick reactions, she had been transported to the hospital and been given treatment within minutes; her condition had stabilized before the poison had time to do any permanent damage to her system. Unfortunately, the nurses still wanted her to rest a bit before getting up and leaving, so now she was lying down while her sister, the star, and his manager stood nearby.

“Someone actually tried to poison—me—” Ryeowook seemed to be having trouble accepting this fact.

Next to him, the man who previously introduced himself as Lee Seunghwan the manager animatedly talked into his cellphone. “Yes—Ryeowook’s safe; he’s with me right now; we’re at the hospital, but everybody’s alright—”

“Yeah, it happens,” Yui said nonchalantly, for a moment forgetting their backgrounds. “I mean, thank goodness we were here to prevent that, right?”

“How did you know?” Ryeowook still looked very much shaken.

“Call it something like good perception,” Kouichi said darkly. “We noticed something suspicious about her and decided to follow her, just in case.” It wasn’t strictly true, but Ryeowook didn’t have to know the exact details.

“But I still don’t understand,” Ryeowook said agitatedly. “Does somebody really hate me that much?”

“Antis will be antis,” Kouichi replied cynically, having learned that word to describe a star’s anti-fans relatively recently.

“Or some people will kill for money,” Yui heard her mutter under her breath. “Or perhaps it was done out of fear. Or mindless obedience to a certain individual who is part of a large yakuza group—”

Ryeowook bowed his head gratefully. “You really saved my life back there. Thank you so much,” he said, now bowing from the waist.

Yui saw Kouichi flush at his use of the deferential form. “It was nothing,” she muttered, embarrassed. “We just happened to be at the right place at the right time.” That comment seemed to remind him of something.

“So why are you in Korea, again?”

“We told you,” Yui said patiently. “We’re looking for employment. We happened to remember your comment and decided to visit the S.M. Entertainment headquarters.” The fact that they also happened to take the same flight as Ryeowook was a stretch, but hopefully the star and his manager were still too frazzled to dwell on that.

Luckily, the latter chose that moment to finish his phone call and interrupted the conversation before Ryeowook had time to evaluate the potential holes in the girls’ flawed explanations.

“We sincerely thank you for your intervention,” he said politely to the twins. “We have to go now, but if there’s any way we can pay you back—”

“We want to work for you,” Kouichi said a bit forcefully, while Yui nodded quickly.

“What? I’m sorry, but we can’t just hire—”

“Please,” Yui implored shamelessly, making a decision on the spot. “We’re homeless now and have nowhere to go.” Three pairs of eyebrows rose at the last comment. Hurriedly, she clarified. “We were in Russia on business, but that didn’t go so well. And then on a slightly related note, we were also recently disowned by our family. For, um, complicated reasons. But anyway we have credentials. Ryeowook mentioned to us once that the members needed language instructors…?”

Everyone gaped at her. “Repeat your reasons again?” Seunghwan the manager asked incredulously.

“We can instruct Super Junior in Chinese and Japanese,” Yui rephrased. “And Russian and English,” she added as an afterthought.

“You can speak—”

“We’re Japanese. Can you tell?” Kouichi interrupted pointedly, validating her sister’s claim with the English equivalent of just five words. Similar to Ryeowook’s initial reaction, his manager wore a facial expression of complete disbelief, and judging from Kouichi’s smug smile, Yui had a feeling she was enjoying it, too.

“I’ll see what we can do,” Seunghwan finally said in resignation. “But we’ll have to see your resumes.”

“No problem,” Yui said, making a mental note to invent one as soon as they left the hospital. “Where should we hand them in?”

The manager wrote down some instructions on a piece of paper. “Normally, I wouldn’t do this, but in light of you two saving our Ryeowook-sshi’s life…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kouichi said airily while Ryeowook bowed once more.

“I do somehow end up getting helped by you two a lot,” he smiled ruefully. “Whether it’s in Korea or in Russia.”

“It’s mutual,” Yui said warmly. “You paid for us at the restaurant, remember? Consider us equal now.”

“Wait,” Seunghwan said sharply. “You already met each other in Russia? Are you old friends of his?”

“Uh—,” Realizing she couldn’t lie her way out of this question, Yui fell silent and waited for Ryeowook to explain.

“They helped me out when I was buying train tickets. And then we ate breakfast together once,” he said helpfully.

His manager raised his eyebrows again. “And now you conveniently meet again in Korea?”

There was an awkward silence. For once both girls were at a complete loss for words, and finally, Yui said weakly, “Well, we’re not sasaeng fans, if that’s what you were referring to…”

The manager raised his eyebrows. “Then why did you follow him from Russia to Korea?” It was like an interrogation.

“Who said we were following him?” Kouichi said defensively. “For all you know, it might have simply been a coincidence.” Though he was completely right, there was no way they could explain that their reasons were a lot nobler than most fans’ without going into their murky backgrounds.

“We accidentally met in Russia,” Yui added firmly. “And um, to be completely honest, we didn’t realize he was a star until much later.” At that, Ryeowook nodded in agreement, not appearing to be offended.

The manager finally seemed to accept their argument. “Okay, fine then.” He turned to Ryeowook. “Are you ready to go? I had to call Junghoon-hyung and get him to pick up your luggage; it should be in your dorm now. Now that he’s gone back to the airport to pick up Kyuhyun, Eunhyuk, and Donghae, I have to go back and take care of some business back at the office.”

“Ah, okay,” Ryeowook said obediently. He turned to leave, but then glanced at the girls. “But will you be alright here by yourself in the hospital?”

Truthfully, Yui was more concerned about his safety, but she didn’t know how to express that.

“Wait,” Kouichi said, struggling to sit up from the bed. “Are you actually just gonna leave us here all alone?”

The manager looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well, we have a very tight schedule to run, and your condition has stabilized now—”

“Do you want to borrow my cell phone so you can call your parents?” Ryeowook offered helpfully, forgetting what Yui said earlier.

“We’re on our own,” she reminded him. “We have no parents anymore.”

“Then—”

“I’m okay now,” Kouichi insisted, suddenly getting off the bed. “Please take us with you to your office.”

The manager looked flabbergasted. “Excuse me? I can’t do that! You’re minors and—”

“Actually, we’re nineteen,” Yui said helpfully. “Twenty in Korea. We’re our own legal guardians now.”

“But—”

“Please,” Kouichi persisted. “Just take us to the office. That’ll be the last favor we ask from you today.”

Ryeowook had been looking back and forth from the twins to his manager as they made their exchange. Now he finally spoke up. “Hyung, maybe we can just give them a ride. It wouldn’t really hurt, right?”

His manager looked reluctant. “Well,” he muttered, “I guess not…” The twins clasped their hands in relief. “But we have to leave right now.”

“I’m totally okay,” Kouichi announced, throwing up her arms and waving them in the air as if that proved anything. “See? So let’s g—”

Suddenly the door burst open and a young blond-haired man came running in, arriving through the entrance so fast he had to grab the bedpost to stop his momentum. “Ryeowook-ah, are you alright?” he shouted. Then he looked up and seemed to take in the room’s occupants. “Uh—? What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Yui muttered, as Kouichi burst out, “Who are you?!”

At least now it was clear to everyone in the room that the girls weren’t lying about not being fans.

The room’s newest occupant glanced over at the manager for an explanation, and he merely said unhelpfully, “This is the girl who saved Ryeowook-sshi’s life.”

“You’re a ­girl?” the man gasped, but then he quickly recovered. “I mean, thank you. But exactly what happened?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” the manager said sharply. “Really, Leeteuk, as the group’s leader, you should know better than to come here without permission from one of us. What if your fans saw you?”

“How could I not have come?” Leeteuk demanded angrily. “After Ryeowook’s frantic call—something about being poisoned, and a hospital—I rushed here as soon as I could—”

The manager sighed. “I guess I should’ve counted on you only hearing the words like ‘poison’ and ‘hospital,’ but nothing important, like ‘I’m okay.’”

“Yeah,” Kouichi said. “I’m the one who actually got poisoned.”

Leeteuk frowned. “Who are you, again?”

“Kouichi,” she said, grinning. “Your newest language instructor. And this is my sister, Yui-sshi. Nice to meet you, Leeteuk-sshi.”

Yui smiled awkwardly and bowed while the manager just groaned again.