Chapter 9

The Armchair Scientist and the Conundrum of Love

On the morning of The Library Incident, as she called it, Kim Yongsun was in her private study chamber on the third floor of the Spire. She had visited the chamber every day since the beginning of September, since the fateful meeting at the dock. There was something about the handsome werewolf that day that snagged her attention like nothing had before. Something that snuck into her mind and made its home there, insidiously sneaking into every aspect of her life. It was unsettling and uncomfortable, and whenever they found themselves face-to-face, the draw was undeniable. She’d avert her eyes and hide, but the urge to touch—she didn’t understand. No, she just couldn’t stay in the same room until she understood.

On the day of The Library Incident, Yongsun finally understood. After weeks of research, she finally came upon a possible explanation: love. But it couldn’t be love. As much as her head was caught in the trappings of academia, she had watched enough dramas and read enough books to know that it wasn’t love. In all the best literature, love was a gradual development. People in love had reasons to be in love and obstacles to overcome in order to make it true, and even though the werewolf was undeniably beautiful, she knew nothing about her. No, the attraction was far too raw and almost too intuitive to be simply romantic or ual.

Besides, her roommate had been far from subtle from the start that she was feeling the same way. That day on stage, when she blurted her feelings to the whole world, confirmed it for Yongsun. The girl seemed equally baffled when she made the confession. Then again, she often seemed baffled by most things around the Island.

It would’ve been easy to give in, she supposed. They could let go and let The Library Incident continue for the rest of their lives, she supposed. If she were anyone else, in fact, she might. Unfortunately, Kim Yongsun never did things the easy way. Kim Yongsun was an academic. She was logical despite her warmth, curious despite her tendency to worry, and perhaps just a bit of a high-strung, perfectionist. Giving into sensations had never exactly been best practice for her success.

Research was her safe place. As much as she despised the arbitrary prestige that she and her family were given, she could not resist taking advantage of it just once to have her study chamber built inside the Spire. She granted herself the wood-panelled walls, the warm lights, plush carpet, and the broad-leafed potted plants. Above all, she indulged in the great mahogany desk, the matching bookcase, and even—at the end of her tireless nights—the plush leather couch. Her study smelled of musty books, and that was just the way she liked it.

And it was here that she buried herself in research.

Beyond the intensity of her feelings, there was something else that bothered her about the whole situation, something familiar about it that she could not pinpoint. She dug through tome after tome, database after database. But even her personal Database, fitted into her desk just for her, provided few answers.

Then, finally, on the day of The Library Incident, the answer came to her in the form of a special message from her sister. Yongsun was cloistered in her study chamber when her Database lit up. Her sister’s smiling face inevitably lightened the sombre mood of her recent turmoil, and Yongsun couldn’t help but mirror that smile.

It was the typical report of everything that was happening within their extended family tree. Yongsun knew how bored her sister had been since her graduation two years ago, and she secretly delighted in the menial gossip almost as much as her sister secretly delighted in documenting them for her.

Yongsun continued to read as her sister went on.

Cousin so-and-so was caught cheating.

Aunt so-and-so’s son started dating a human.

Fitzwilliam the vagabond cousin went full vegan and disappeared to Iceland.

Then—

“Did you know our Albanian cousin is getting married? I can never pronounce his name,” Her sister had said after a bout of silence. “Umma said he caught the Lover’s Curse, but aunt and uncle doesn’t believe her, obviously. I’m surprised Umma is so superstitious. She’s been going around telling everyone—can you believe it? You know that story, right? About the vampire princess and the priest or whatever. Anyway, it’s a made-up story desired to scare children, so I don’t know what Umma is on about.”

Yongsun froze in her armchair. She took off her glasses and rubbed her blurry eyes.

“She’s convinced that it’s a curse, because—and I quote—they’re going to make stupid and dangerous decisions and supernatural attractions aren’t real. I told her they’re just lovers being lovers and the curse isn’t real, but when does she ever listen? Anyway, it’s been driving me crazy because it’s literally all she ever talks about these days. I wish she would just be honest if she doesn’t like his fiancé.”

The Lover’s Curse—that was the familiar story in the back of her mind. It was one that every vampire knew, yet few still believed. Vampires growing up in the modern era—an era familiar with the virtues of excess—were far too romantic to believe that love could possibly be harmful or dangerous in any way, but it made sense.

A supernatural attraction was the only thing that could make sense.

She had to tell somebody.

As soon as her sister’s message began to wind down, she turned off her Database and raced toward Joohyun’s room.

Of course, she never got to Joohyun’s room when she ran into Byulyi in the hallway that day. And it was the Library Incident that told her that the Lover’s Curse could be a very real possibility, even if she couldn’t see how her feelings could be a bad thing. Not at first, anyway. Not while she was so comfortably wrapped up in Byulyi’s presence.

But after the library broke apart, and they’d broken free of their little space, Yongsun came face to face with a philosophical conundrum. The kiss they’d shared, and the adoration in Byulyi’s eyes as she looked at her that day with such hope—did it matter if it was the product of supernatural attraction? Did it matter if it wasn’t real?

Did she want the feelings to be real? Or was that just the curse talking?

She didn’t know anymore.

————

Two weeks later, on the morning of The Accident, Yongsun was convinced that she had found the answer. She was in her study chamber once again. Joohyun, who slept quietly behind her on the old leather couch, jolted awake when a tower of books clattered to the floor in Yongsun’s excitement.

“I got it! I finally get it!”

Joohyun groaned and rolled over. “You’re crazy,” she mumbled sleepily.

“No, that’s the thing!” Yongsun cried. She crossed the room and shook her friend by the shoulders. “I’m not crazy. I’m cursed!”

Joohyun rolled back around and regarded Yongsun with her most displeased expression. “So you’ve said. Many times. This isn’t news. Also, it’s not real.”

“It is real,” Yongsun replied, huffing as she pulled the red blanket off Joohyun. “I mean, I wasn’t sure before, but I think it is. It makes so much sense.”

Joohyun glared to no effect, so she rubbed her eyes and resigned with a sigh.

Yongsun grabbed one of the dusty books she’d dropped in her excitement, threw herself back into her chair, and flipped through the familiar pages. “Listen to this,” she said, “‘The vampire princess fell in love with the acolyte, but she had never known a love so passionate. Concerned, she consulted a wise old priest, who tells her to look for signs of a curse.’ Then they go into a lot of detail about the symptoms. Intense desire, the need to be close, ‘befuddlement of the brain’, et cetera.”

“Okay…”

“So, I corroborated these symptoms with other versions of similar stories written down between the 15th to 21st centuries, and they’re all more or less the same. Of course, some stories are more detailed than others, so the data isn’t perfect, but I think there is enough evidence out there to say that the Lover’s Curse is real. I think it would be a fair hypothesis to say that the Curse is a product of random chance over the centuries, though I haven’t figured out the hows and whys yet.”

Joohyun sat up with a heavy groan. “Yongsun-ah,” she said, crossing her arms, “there are hundreds of versions of ‘The Fairy and the Woodcutter,’ but it doesn’t make it real. It’s just folklore.”

“But that’s the thing,” Yongsun said, waving a hand, “even ‘The Fairy and the Woodcutter’ proves my point because the whole tragedy of the Woodcutter losing his wife is because of a stupid decision he made. Symptom of cursed love.”

Joohyun pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re being ridiculous! People are idiots. They make stupid decisions all the time. Especially when it comes to love. It doesn’t mean you’re cursed.”

“Hyun-ah, why don’t you get it?” Yongsun groaned, frustration building as she jabbed the open page of her book with a finger. “You of all people should understand. If you can curse people with love temporarily, why couldn’t the Lover’s Curse find me by chance? Our very existence defies folklore, so where the hell do you expect to draw the lines between folklore and history and science?”

Joohyun was quiet for a while, thoughtful. “Alright then,” she said slowly, “Fine. Have you been showing...symptoms of this curse?”

“Oh. Right.” Yongsun bit her lip. “I didn’t tell you what happened at the library.”

But of course, meticulous as she was, she didn’t forget. In fact, she had worked out many possible routes their conversation could take—crunched the numbers and ran the cost-benefit analysis of telling her in the first place. Joohyun, however, remained as unpredictable as always. So, she opted her out of the equation until she knew Joohyun would inevitably barge her way in.

Now, as Joohyun listened, unmoving, Yongsun secretly wished she planned it out a little better. The siren was inscrutable, and experience told her that was never a good thing. The calmer and stiller—the angrier. And by the end of her narrative, Yongsun almost wanted to hold a finger out to see if she was still breathing.

Finally, Joohyun stood up, wings flared. “I’m going to drive a stake into her heart,” she declared icily. Yongsun wanted to crawl under her desk. Murderous rage was not one of the options she had factored into Joohyun’s response, so she simply blinked in a moment of undisguised terror.

“That ing werewolf,” Joohyun went on, “if there’s any curse going on, it’s that damn werewolf. Her very presence in our life is a curse.”

“Joohyun!” Yongsun cried, tugging at the wrist of her best friend, “that’s unnecessary! I don’t understand why you’re being hateful.”

Joohyun shook her off. “You can’t trust werewolves. And they’re just as capable of cursing someone as I am. By your logic, I could sing to that damn werewolf and end all of your problems right there.”

Yongsun felt a chill creep up the back of her neck. She hadn’t thought of that. Having so seldomly encountered any sort of bewitching spells, she knew very little about the effects of overlapping curses.

But if Joohyun noticed the paling shades of her friend’s face, she showed no indication of it. Instead, she paced, with her arms across her chest as she continued: “Even if I did, that one’s so thick-headed, she probably wouldn’t hear a damn thing. I’m almost certain that if there’s a curse floating around, she’s responsible for it. Even if that idiot doesn’t know. I mean, haven’t you heard of werewolf glamour?”

Yongsun lifted her eyes steadily to meet Joohyun’s, shoving all thoughts away as she raised a brow. “Werewolf glamour? This isn’t 1582, Hyun. And you know werewolf magic isn’t real; it was disproved a hundred years ago. Just because you’re strangely attracted to zoomorphic types, it doesn’t mean they’re magic.”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Joohyun narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”

Yongsun took a step back. She’d forgotten how sensitive Joohyun could be when it came to her own love life. “Look,” she said quickly, “I know this sounds hypocritical, but I really think it’s the Curse. And…” she averted her eyes from Joohyun’s fiery glare, “I don’t want to believe it’s not...because I wouldn’t know what to do otherwise.”

Joohyun softened. “Fine. I... I understand,” she said. “So how do we break the curse? My songs wear off—for the most part—but something tells me it’s not going to be that simple.”

Yongsun bit her lip. “Well, it’s not particularly difficult...you just need some garlic… but breaking it might—”

“Let’s do it.”

Early in the afternoon of The Accident, Yongsun had left her study chamber to get a snack from the vending machine. As she sipped on her tetra pack of pig’s blood—cringing a little at the flavour and chastising herself for being such a purist, for she knew few vampires were privileged enough to have access to human blood—she was approached by a bespectacled half-heitei she tutored last year.

They bowed, and they exchanged their pleasantries, but just as Yongsun was about to excuse herself, the heitei reached out, stopping just centimetres away from her elbow for fear of being impolite.

“Wait, unnie, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping,” the heitei said carefully, “but I have to ask. Did something happen with Joohyun-unnie?”

Yongsun tilted her head. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I passed by her a little while ago and she seemed really angry. I was going to say hi, but she was pulling this werewolf along.”

Yongsun cursed under her breath. “Do you know where she’s going?”

“I don’t know,” the heitei said, shaking her head, “she didn’t say anything. You don’t think she’s going to sing to her, do you?” The girl blushed—a light shade of pink that didn’t go unnoticed by Yongsun— then apologized again for stepping out of line. Right, Yongsun thought, one of them.

Yongsun smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“No,” she said. “I don’t think so.”

When she returned to her room, however, she sat down on her leather couch and thought of Joohyun and her siren song. When she had departed several hours ago, Joohyun had wished her luck in figuring out her conundrum, and it had been peaceful. She didn’t expect her to stew on their conversation.

She should’ve known Joohyun wouldn’t let go. For all the flippancy she tried to convey, Joohyun was one of the most fixated people she’d ever met. She rarely let things go, especially if she felt strongly about an idea. She’d brave any sea she set her mind on, even if nobody stood behind her.

Yongsun quickly ran through a list of possibilities.

First, she could interrogate Byulyi. Force the cure on her and break the curse.

Second, she could sing to Byulyi. It was a thought that had crossed her mind multiple times that day, and it seemed more and more plausible. Joohyun could attempt to override the curse with her own curse—It definitely sounded like something she would do. Seduction and musical sorcery had always been her preferred method of solving problems. Besides, neither of them really understood the effects of inflicting multiple curses. Objectively, it would be highly beneficial in the name of science to allow her best friend to conduct this experiment. And as much as Joohyun disliked Byulyi, Joohyun was also loyal. Yongsun trusted her to do what was best for her. Her siren’s song was temporary...if she sang to her…and the curse was broken... It was the perfect solution.

Right?

But the thought of her best friend and Byulyi together…

She could blame the curse, but she did not deny wanting to throw up.

Maybe they wouldn’t…

Joohyun...fierce and loyal as she was, she also loved a good time. And a handsome werewolf, once she proved no threat to her best friend, sounded like a perfectly good time. Yongsun buried her head in her hands. Joohyun wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

Would she?

She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t just sit and think while Joohyun did whatever she wanted. She had to find them. Before her emotions and her mind tangle up and completely throw reason out the window—it was her least favourite place to be and yet...she just couldn’t shake the image she’d conjured up of Joohyun and Byulyi together.

In the two hours leading up to The Accident, and several emotional dialogues with herself later, Yongsun found herself at wandering the campus, antsy and anxious. As she left the campus cafe, breathless and bewildered at what a fool she’d made of herself when she stormed in and demanded to know Joohyun’s whereabouts, she turned around to receive the crackling of footsteps hurrying toward her.

Hyejin, the first to reach her, gently tugged on the back of her blouse. “Unnie, what’s wrong?” She asked. Wheein, Seungwan, and Seulgi soon joined them with evident concern in their eyes.

“Did something happen with Joohyun?” Seungwan asked without a thought.

Yongsun smiled a little. “I’m just looking for her, that’s all.”

“You seemed pretty intense back there,” Hyejin replied with a raised brow. Wheein nodded as she came up behind Hyejin and took her hand. Strange, Yongsun thought absentmindedly. She hadn’t noticed how close they were before. Then again, she had been too obsessed to notice most things around her in the last few months—this she did not deny.

“You can tell us, Unnie,” Wheein said shyly. “We may not know each other very well, but we want to help.”

“I apologize for my behaviour back there,” Yongsun said with a bow. “I’ve been looking for Joohyun for some time now and I guess I’ve just been frustrated.”

“Don’t you miss functional cell phones?” Seulgi quipped.

But her comment went unheard when Seungwan suddenly clapped her hands together and cried, “I think I might know where she is!” She paused and pressed a finger to her chin. “Hold on, there might be a couple of possibilities. Joohyun-unnie likes to go to either the pegasus plateau or the cliffside where Athena laid her eggs last spring. Oh! Um, that’s one of the gryphons she befriended last year. Joohyun-unnie helped rehabilitate her wing after some students found her injured.” Seungwan stopped for a moment, an almost wistful expression on her face, then—suddenly feeling a little exposed—sheepishly concluded, “She’s pretty amazing. But you all know that.”

“Wow, unnie, you’re very subtle,” Hyejin snickered.

Wheein nudged her. “Stop wasting time, Hyejinie. Joohyun-unnie might be in trouble. I think we should split up,” she announced. “Hyejin, Seulgi-unnie, and I will head to the plateau. Seungwan-unnie and Yongsun-unnie: you two will go to the gryphon nest.”

Dumbfounded and without a better alternative, they nodded.

“I love when you take charge like that,” Hyejin said, leaning closer to her girlfriend’s set lips. But much to the alarm of everyone else, Wheein planted her hand flat into Hyejin’s face and pushed her away. They watched with bated breaths as Hyejin bounded back, shoving Wheein back and immediately dissolving her determined expression into a wide grin.

Seungwan touched Yongsun’s shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

———

The cliffside stretched up like a towering shadow against the sky from the bottom of the mountain where Yongsun and Seungwan stood. If they squinted, they could just make out the thick, broken branches of several gryphon nests sprinkled along slabs of jutting rock.

“She’s probably up there,” Seungwan said, more so to herself than anyone else.

Yongsun regarded her profile. Son Seungwan was beautiful and kind, but as much as Yongsun tried—or believed herself to be trying—they were never close.

Joohyun and Seungwan was a conundrum, a philosophical and—Yongsun suspected—supernatural quandary she was tired of trying to solve. Though Yongsun had her theories, she kept shut; though Seungwan sparkled and smiled, she kept her distance. This seemed to work for the both of them.

In fact, this was the first time Yongsun could recall being alone with Seungwan. And she wasn’t oblivious—she knew as well as anyone how those rumours spread. Seungwan seemed clever enough to dispel those rumours, but she seemed set on believing the lie to avoid the truth.

A feeling Yongsun understood well.

“Are you sure?” Yongsun asked, trailing her gaze from Seungwan’s face to the wall of rock.

“Maybe,” Seungwan replied. She tilted her head back to study the daunting wall of rock before her. “Usually when there’s something on her mind, she likes to go to a quiet place by herself. Back in our hometown, we used to go to the duck pond. We didn’t really have gryphons and things, but I know she really likes them. Most creatures, really. They don’t ask too much of her,” she paused to give Yongsun a small smile, “so we used to come here, just the two of us—not recently though.” Her voice trailed off, the end of her statement tacked on with a tinge of sadness. “First year...when we both thought we could be kids again, I guess.”

Yongsun nodded.

“Anyway! Sorry, I talk too much, don’t I? We should check if she’s up there. I can’t fly, so you’ll have to go without me. I’ll wait here, unnie.”

Yongsun took a breath and prepared herself for the wave of nausea that always came with her transformation. She wavered insider her much smaller body, and, for a moment, came close to slamming right against the rockface as she tried to unsuccessfully wield her own wings. Fortunately, Seungwan’s reflexes were just quick enough to catch her and sit her in the safety of her palm before she could get her.

Yongsun flapped her wings in gratitude and was more than relieved that her bat form couldn’t express her deep embarrassment.

“Athena’s nest is near the middle. She likes to decorate with white flowers, so you can’t miss it. Be careful, unnie,” She said. Then, she raised her arm and lifted Yongsun into the air like a baby bird, watching warily as Yongsun tried to master control over her own winged limbs. She carefully scaled the wall, her vision blurry as she flew up, tipping back and forth as she tried to find her momentum.

High and higher, she flew with the pinking sky warm on her back. She gave a number of chirps and was quickly reminded of why she hated echolocation when her brain was unable to parse out the massive input of information, sending her crashing right into something prickly.
 

“Yongsun?”

Sprawled in a tangle of stripped branches, she saw nothing but dark shapes surrounding her little body. Suddenly, a burst of light broke through her blurry vision, and a large pale shape appeared. The shape moved. “Yongsun?” the shape said again. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?” Something warm wrapped itself around her and carried her out into the light.

Yongsun wriggled, one arm then the other.

Goddammit—she kicked herself for not practicing her transformation when she should’ve. She tried to recall what she had read in those early days of maddening obsession with transformation, but nothing came up. It was like all the times she skipped practice in favour of books and theory was coming back to haunt her. She wiggled her arms again, but to no avail.

The warmth—a pair of hands—shifted her onto one palm.

Joohyun? Is that you?

But all she heard was a series of chirps. Her head was about to burst as her echoes bounced off every surface within miles, but between the warm hands and the vaguely familiar shape and voice of the person holding her, it had to be Joohyun. And despite all the thoughts she had about her friend prior to her ascent up the cliffside as a literal blind bat, she did not deny the relief of finding solid ground in her best friend.

Fifteen minutes before The Accident, Yongsun was nestled safely in Joohyun’s hand. Had she been able to see the shape of the narrow cliff where Joohyun was seated—for there was barely any room to stand—and the nest of young gryphons sleeping only centimetres away, she might have been a little more scared. And a little more careful.

As of now, Yongsun was safe.

Unfortunately, unlike Seungwan and Wheein, Yongsun could not selectively turn herself into a talking bat. She was soft, round, and red, but was otherwise an ordinary, if not subpar, vampire bat. Had she spent her early adulthood practicing and mastering the ability she acquired so late in her life at 19 years old, she may have been able to master the basic functions of flying and sight. She may even have been able to transform at will. But young Yongsun already had her head trapped in theory, and no matter how voraciously she devoured her books on transformation, nothing she read could dispel her fears.

And so, she remained a subpar vampire bat who could only shout at her best friend from inside her head. She hoped to channel her disgruntled vibes toward Joohyun as she wiggled again in attempt to transform, but nothing happened. Perhaps it was too soon after her first transformation.

“Are you stuck?” Joohyun asked. Yongsun nodded silently. “You’re here because you heard about Byulyi, aren’t you?”

Yongsun nodded and crossed her webbed arms in attempt to look displeased.

“I didn’t hurt her, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

She wasn’t wondering, but she visibly relaxed nonetheless.

“You think I would hurt her?” Joohyun asked with a raise of her brow. Her voice was quiet and hurt in a way Yongsun did not expect. She ducked her head a little.

“I didn’t hurt her,” she repeated. “I just wanted to tell her about the curse.”

Yongsun shook her head visibly in her show of disapproval. It wasn’t her place to tell her! She wanted to scream.

“To be honest, I was still convinced that it was some sort of werewolf magic. Sure, historically werewolves were illusionists or whatever, but—I don’t know—I don’t trust everything you read in books. I thought if I told her about the Lover’s Curse she’d expose herself or something.” She chuckled as if she were hiding a secret joke. A joke Yongsun wasn’t finding very funny. “But she’s kind of an idiot when it comes to supernatural culture. She isn’t much better than an average human, if I’m honest.”

Yongsun, wanting to defend Byulyi’s intelligence, chirped. Unfortunately, it was not at a frequency that Joohyun could hear, so she went on, leaving Yongsun wanting to headbutt her in the chin.

“Don’t move around so much—it’s dangerous up here. Anyway, I gave her the cure too. I wanted to see if she would actually do it, or if she’d even believe me. Humans are so skeptical, you know? She didn’t.” Joohyun looked up then and looked up across the top of the tree line. She didn’t notice Yongsun bouncing in her palm in frustration.

How could Joohyun be as arrogant as the priest? What if this were a prophecy doomed to fail? What did Byulyi do? Did she take the cure? Yongsun chirped several more times, but to no avail.

“Anyway,” Joohyun said softly after a long pause. “That’s it. We just talked.”

But there was something else. Something she wasn’t telling her.

Joohyun’s gaze didn’t waver from the treetops. “Yongsun-ah, I don’t know if the Lover’s Curse is real,” she said, resigned, “I know you weren’t sure if you wanted to break it...but I don’t think it can be broken. Not unless you want to break it.”

Yongsun stopped wiggling.

“Whether it is real or not, it is a very powerful spell. I can’t tell you how I know, but I can tell you that I don’t like it one bit. Of all people, it had to be with that damn werewolf. Whatever it is, we should get to the bottom of it and lift the curse once and for all. I can’t...I can’t let you give into your end of the curse.” Joohyun’s eyes burned. “You can’t be with her. You need to tell her.”

Yongsun looked up, but Joohyun didn’t meet her eyes. Her heart pounded. DId she sing to her? Did she sing and fail because the Lover’s Curse was too strong? Is that how she knew?

“She won’t believe anything I say,” Joohyun chuckled mirthlessly. “It’s only fair that she knows she’s cursed, Yongsun. You have to tell her.”

Approximately one minute before The Accident, Yongsun found herself shaken by the images in her head. She wasn’t sure exactly what incited the incident—between the stream-of-consciousness crap Joohyun was spouting and the mess of questions and the image she kept seeing—she needed to know if Joohyun sang, needed to know why Joohyun was being so ambiguous. Needed to know what Byulyi said.

Approximately forty-five seconds before The Accident, Yongsun leapt out of Joohyun’s hands, wanting to get away from it all. She zipped upwards unsteadily, and much to the shock of both parties, crashed—in a blur of white noise—into Joohyun’s forehead, sending her wings open in recoil, and consequently scaring one of the young gryphons awake.

Thirty seconds before the moment of The Accident, the young gryphon shot out of her nest and into the small of Joohyun’s back in a powerful headbutt, sending her forward. Fortunately, the momentum of her wings caught the air just in time, but in her effort to maintain her balance, the edge of her wing caught the fumbling Yongsun, knocking her out momentarily and sending her tumbling forward and plummeting straight down like a red tennis ball.

Joohyun saw the blur of red out of the corner of her eye, and dove down after her with the speed of a fighter jet—

It was in that moment, as she cut through the air, that Yongsun opened her eyes. And it was in that moment of consciousness that the adrenaline kicked in—

She flapped her wings. Only to see her long, pale arms swinging wildly around her.

Her eyes widened. Joohyun dove toward her, open, the sounds of her own name buffeted by the wind.

She reached out her hand toward Joohyun’s outstretched fingertips.

Fifteen seconds before The Accident, Joohyun scooped Yongsun up from under her, and, in trying to create enough drag to slow down from the high-speed fall, she flapped her wings as fast as she could, shaking through the branches and the trees, and spurring the wildlife out of the leaves with the force of a small hurricane. A storm of splintered wood and howling wind blasted through the forest with each adrenaline-fueled blow from her powerful wings.

She swooped up to an upright position, narrowly missing a tree with Yongsun in her arms.

And the forest stilled.

Ten seconds before The Accident, Joohyun closed her eyes. Yongsun had passed out once more in her arms. When she opened them again, she noticed a tree.

Five seconds before the impact, the culmination of the event that Yongsun will later categorize as The Accident, Joohyun watched the moments tick by in a series of slow-motion images.

Five: several meters away, a tree reclined. Snapped at the base, it leaned back at forty-five degrees.

Four: forty degrees. Thirty-five. Thirty.

Three: Joohyun heard her own voice scream.

“SEUNGWAN, WATCH OUT!”

Two: her heart pounded. She rushed forward, Yongsun heavy in her arms. She tightened her grip on her friend and stumbled forward clumsily toward the falling tree. 

Seungwan turned around, iridescent in her peacock blue dress. 
 

A cloud of leaves filled Joohyun's vision as the tree came down.

One: a crash and a long, hoarse cry, then hot tears as time seemed to speed up and swallow Joohyun up whole.

“SEUNGWA-A-A-AN!”

Notes: Hi all! Apologies for my absence. I've been away on vacation, then dreadfully sick, and THEN I got the news that I'll be moving abroad for a job. So...a lot is happening. I'll be making my updates on Twitter, but unfortunately, I will be posting a little bit slower. I'm hoping to finish this story soon, but I'd like to dedicate some time to Freedom-Bound as well. I know this is a terrible place to leave you, but my life has been an utter whirlwind, you guys. So just stay tuned! 

Edit: I’ve received several comments expression confusion about this chapter, so I thought I would clear up some things. I really want everyone to enjoy the story, but I know that the way I tell my stories aren’t always the most straightforward. I’ve posted commentary on the previous chapters on Twitter as well @roastyreads if you’re interested! 

Since I haven’t received any explicit questions as of this edit, I will just make my own assumptions.

If you’d rather make your own judgements about what happened, just click away :) 
 

1. This chapter takes place throughout all of the previous chapters from Yongsun’s point of view. The Library Incident refers to the “Earnest Fool” chapter, where Yongsun was trapped in the library with Byul. Yongsun in this story is a highly intellectual person who likes to categorize things, hence the motif of The Library Incident and The Accident. Ultimately, this chapter can't really be read on its own, since it fits into the overarching plot from the beginning until the present. 

I realized also that since this is the first time you see things from Yongsun's POV, it may be that she no longer fits into the archetypes that Byulyi had established for us in the previous chapters. If you guys know me from my previous stories, my obsession with human characters may not surprise you. Since AIU is the first time I have a whopping FOUR protagonists, it's been a really interesting challenge in keeping their timelines straight and their characterizations true. 

2. Most of this story takes place directly after “The Curse”. Joohyun has just stormed off at the end of that chapter, and here we have an understanding of why Joohyun did what she did. Byul was kept in the library at the end of “The Curse” so it can be assumed that she may have walked back to her dorm. As this chapter was mostly in Yong’s POV, it’s also safe to assume she doesn’t know where Byul is, so the reader won’t know either. 

3. The Lover’s Curse (singular lover is intentional) is entirely a speculation at this point. From Yongsun’s point of view, it makes sense in terms of supernatural folklore, and it keeps her in denial. From Joohyun’s point of view, she doesn’t care, as long as Byulyi doesn’t come along and ruin their friendship. She’s sceptical of the curse but will willingly use it to her advantage if she could split Yong and Byul apart. The importance of the Curse is not whether or not it's real, but how both Joohyun and Yongsun are grappling with their feelings. As Yongsun is a highly intellectual person with a need to categorize things, she doesn't know how to deal with Byulyi's feelings. And because Joohyun is, in reality, rather insecure, especially with her friendships, she isn't going to let Byul take Yong without a fight. After all, Yongsun is her only friend at this point after her messiness with Wan and the betrayal of Seul. 

Both Joohyun and Yongsun’s characters are developed further in this chapter as the plot moves forward. It’s really the first time we see them together for an extended period of time, so their relationship is a little clearer too, I hope. 

4. At the end, a tree falls on Seungwan from the force of Joohyun’s hurricane. Yongsun calls that moment The Accident, but it’s really a culmination of many accidents. Again, it’s her tendency to categorize things that we are seeing, and despite the Butterfly effect of all these things happening, this was the moment that changed things forever. Even though she’s was passed out at the time, it’s a turning point for all the characters involved.

5. These characters may not sound like the people you know and love because this is a work of fiction. My depictions of these characters are based on traits that I've observed and exaggerated for the purpose of telling a unique story. I believe this should be true of all stories about real people in order to respect their privacy as human beings. 

Hope that helps!