“Is that it?” Malice is starkly absent. The Shuhua she has grown to know is gone, replaced by the one she first met. Emotionless. Hard to read, a white canvas. 

“Huh?” Miyeon wasn’t expecting that reaction. She had just told the girl, confirmed what Soojin said isn’t wrong, that one of them will die. Anyone would be enraged. 

Throw a fit while at it, leaving the room at once.

She had saved Shuhua that night, but the girl’s second chance, a life as a reaper, isn’t much better. Maybe it’s even worse. Tagging on a brand new addiction, accompanied with a notice for an arrival to death’s door.    

Honestly, Soojin’s prediction isn’t exactly accurate either. If she herself is the first one to die, then they’ll both perish. She’ll go first, from failing to hunt properly. Once Miyeon is gone, Shuhua’s katana would disintegrate. 

Shuhua would then follow. 

If Shuhua were to somehow die before her, Miyeon would be alive. Given a reset to her life, to the days before she encountered Shuhua.     

The girl is smart. She’s sure Shuhua has this figured out, knows who’s the outlier in the equation. It scares her that Shuhua isn’t being more vocal. 

“I said, is that it?” the girl repeats. 

“Yes.” Shuhua’s fists clench, approaching, dragging the chair. Miyeon closes her eyes. 

“What are you doing,” says Shuhua. She opens them. “You thought I was going to punch you?” 

“Uh, yes? Aren’t you mad?” 

“I don’t hit the defenseless, even if they deserve it.” Miyeon thinks about it. 

“You should punch me.”

“Would that change anything?”

“No, but it might make you feel better. Since I really don’t know what to do, how to go about this.” It’s too late to stop herself. “Face it, who knows if we’ll be here, alive and breathing in a few days.”      

“Are you listening to yourself right now? You’re pathetic,” says Shuhua. Eerily calm. Miyeon bristles at that, jaw clamped tight. Reaching her breaking point. She disregards the voice in her head, telling her Shuhua is right. 

Giving in to her anger is easier so she taps into it. Those blank eyes. Lofty and detached demeanor, living like a spectator. So removed from reality. Shuhua doesn’t even sound like she understands what’s at stake. “Should I ask you then to give up your life for me?” 

Shuhua gets up, knocking the chair away. Moving to the door. 

“Immortality apparently doesn’t teach you everything. Giving up without a fight, wasting away, is that all you can do?” 

The door slams hard, rattling on its hinges. The room is silent. Miyeon wraps the blanket tighter around herself, letting her brain empty. Though it’s not good enough. 

Mortals, what occupies their minds when they’re drawing their last breaths? Would they be unafraid at an old age? She has seen people come and go, familiar faces ceasing to be around.   

She has witnessed fearless individuals call for a divine presence who is nowhere to be found; fright and dread wrack their bodies as they pass away.    

Maybe she really is a coward, the same as a human being. Scared to do anything. 

The weightless sinking feeling returns.       

Sunlight streams through the window and Miyeon stares and stares at the wall. Contemplating. 

The others should still be asleep, it’s early. Lifting her hands, she inspects them. Pale and twitching.

Swinging her feet around on the bed, touching the cold floor, her motions have an almost mechanical quality to them. 

Dress herself. Open the door. Walk out the house. 

She takes off, lungs burning, heading uphill to where she has always found solace. Seeking comfort. 

The tall trees, the thick undergrowth, sharp leaves cut at her, but she ignores them. A stray fallen branch, twisting roots above ground, she isn’t looking. She trips and runs, keeps running, hands pushing off the ground. Finding her pace again. 

She doesn’t want to think anymore. 

When her body is begging, crying for her to stop running, she finally listens. Steps thudding dully, feet stilling. She’s heaving and it’s still not working; her brain repeats everything back to herself. Is that all you can do.  

She’s supposed to be the older, wiser one here, not Shuhua. Her self-loathing grows. She couldn’t even give loose and vague encouragement, that they’ll get through this together. 

Expressing her remorse, she has always found it hard. No one regrets killing the monsters, Soyeon never made an apology for her actions. Neither did the others. ‘Sorry’ sticks to , literally having to cough it up and she imagines it’s the same for them too. It’s unnatural and wrong. 

But apologizing can only become easier if she does it more often. She should find Shuhua and talk to her. 

Miyeon gives herself thirty more seconds. Enough time to hunt the miserable monster unfortunate enough to walk the same beat-down, trodden path as hers.  

She had shot at it, her arrow sticking into its back. Rearing, hooves kicking, the winged horse flew into the sky. 

It would tire soon.

She sees the horse spiral to the ground, a little off from where she is. With no time to lose, she runs to its location. 

Hidden by the shrubbery, nocking another arrow, she breathes in. Ready to shoot. 

She doesn’t though. 

Her arrow goes back to her quiver and she brings down her bow. The creature is dead, two familiar serrated swords plunged into its side.  

“That’s how it’s done.” The sickening squelch of flesh as the blades are removed. A bit further away is Shuhua. Mystified and amazed. 

“Can you teach me to be better with the sword?” asks Shuhua. 

Soojin snorts, “Miyeon can’t teach you?”

“She’s not... “

“Very good with a sword. She can only shoot. Useless, huh?” finishes Soojin. 

“Yeah.” Soojin is kidding. The woman has always poked fun at her for using a long-ranged weapon, it’s nothing serious. But Shuhua’s response. 

Miyeon hasn’t seen this before. The depth of emotion on display, a complete divergence from the blank canvas. Hard staring eyes, smoldering. A cold, calculating sharpness to them. 

Shuhua wasn’t joking.  

AN: The title comes from The Sixth Station, a soundtrack from the movie Spirited Away. You can hear it when Chihiro and No-Face are sitting on the train. 

It’s a very bittersweet and eerie track (the composer, Joe Hisaishi is a genius)  

Big inspo for this chapter is my experience growing up asian lol. I believe we are almost done with the past flashbacks (I can squeeze maybe one more chapter in) and we shall fast forward to the present very soon. 

Say goodbye to Miyeon’s pov :D