“How much energy do you estimate it would take to transform Ryujin back to human?” Chaeryeong asks.

Professor Park hums thoughtfully. She and Chaeryeong are sitting in chairs on opposite sides of one of the lab tables. Ryujin levitates on the side, five meters off the floor and lying down, resting her elbows on nothing.

It took twenty minutes for Professor Park to come out of her state of feverish excitement at the sight of Ryujin. The entity agreed to introduce herself to the professor, who could see her instantly. She let out a cry of shock that caused a couple of students to come around the room asking what was going on. The professor dismissed them without a glance and locked the room before turning to them with sparkling eyes.

“I had to use seventy-five percent of the Tesla coil to convert that small amount of ectoplasm into the tears,” the professor replied. “All that remains is to try one hundred percent and see what happens.”

“Let's do it,” Ryujin and Chaeryeong say at the same time. They chuckle at that, but then they immediately start to re-serious again.

“Got it,” Professor Park says, already far away from them and motioning for them to follow her. “Come on.”

The trio leaves the lab and walks through the corridors of the institute. Ryujin flies close to the few students at that time of the afternoon, never touching them. They arrive at another lab, the physics lab. Various devices await them as they enter and turn on the lights.

Jihyo leads them to a table where there are two small Tesla coils with their respective mechanisms.

“I don't think they're very powerful at that size,” Chaeryeong thinks, worried.

The professor sets everything up while Chaeryeong takes a seat at a safe distance. Ryujin stands near the professor, watching with great interest what she is doing. The professor gasps when she sees her. Ryujin loves to provoke such action.

“Ah, put your hand in the middle of the coils,” Jihyo says.

Ryujin obeys her. Chaeryeong shifts in her chair, nervous. “Not as much as Ryujin, though,” she notes to herself, looking at the entity.

Lines of light, resembling small rays, appear from one of the coils. Said small rays touch the other coil—which Chaeryeong remembers is called a secondary coil—completely ignoring Ryujin's dirty transparency hand.

Chaeryeong lets out a disappointed sigh while Ryujin mumbles an imprecation.

“That was all the power,” Jihyo says apologetically.

“I didn't feel anything,” Ryujin reports, withdrawing her hand. Suddenly, she puts her head back in place. “Let's see, try now.”

“That could be dangerous,” Chaeryeong says quickly.

“Nah, maybe it has to be my head that's the focus,” Ryujin says, waving a hand. C’mon, professor, turn this thing on.”

The beams pass through her head, without any variation.

“Nothing,” Ryujin mumbles, shaking her head.

“We need something much more powerful,” the professor says, as disappointed as the younger girls.

“A much bigger coil?” Chaeryeong asks.

“These are the biggest ones at the university,” Professor Park says. “Almost all universities have the same model and size, because they are only for small experiments. And even if we were to find a bigger one, I'm still afraid it won't be enough. I made hasty calculations on the way here, and it will take perhaps millions of volts to make Ryujin human again.”

Ryujin and the professor begin to discuss possibilities, but Chaeryeong doesn't listen to them, immersed in her thoughts. “Millions of volts? That sounds like dozens of giant Tesla coils. And borrowing them a few from some electrical engineer without any convincing excuse... Heck, we have to try anyway.”

With half of her concentration on thinking, Chaeryeong looks at the professor and Ryujin. The ghost has stuck her head between the coils again, while Jihyo turns on the circuit again, for longer this time. The small beams shoot out toward the other coil. “Getting touched by one of those has to hurt,” Chaeryeong thinks, distracted among the other thoughts. “If that hurts, I wonder what it's like to get struck by lightning from the sky.”

Lightning.

Chaeryeong's eyes widen. She feels she has experienced serendipity.

“Lightning!” she squeaks, attracting the attention of the other two. “Let's try lightning!”

“That… might work,” the professor nods, after a short pause to debate with herself.

“And how on earth are we going to attract a lightning bolt?” Ryujin asks with an arched eyebrow.

“With a lightning rod, genius,” Chaeryeong replies, with a sarcastic grimace. “Isn't it obvious?”

Ryujin makes a face. She lunges at Chaeryeong and runs her through. Chaeryeong shudders from the sudden chill in her chest.

“Devilish intangible head!” Chaeryeong grumbles, rubbing her chest.

Ryujin materializes in front of her and sticks out her tongue.

“Erm… A lightning rod will definitely attract lightning,” Professor Jihyo interjects, catching their attention. “But we'd have to build our own, because if we use one already installed in some facility, people would see Ryujin appear out of nowhere. If it works, of course,” she adds quietly.

“It would be a scandal,” Ryujin points out. “I don't want that. I don't want everyone after me.”

“I know, that's why I have a better idea,” Jihyo says cheerfully. “Let's take a thin metal rod, tie a copper wire to it and, in turn, tie the wire to a helium-filled balloon.” Jihyo gestures as she speaks, pretending to wrap a wire around her finger. “Then we tie the other end of the rod to a steel javelin buried in the ground and we're done.” She claps her hands. “Besides, installing a lightning rod is a pain. You need a small tower to raise it, then you have to install cables so that the discharge connects to the ground… And I don't have the resources for that.”

“And we are only three,” Chaeryeong points out.

“Does the balloon thing work?” Ryujin asks, looking at the professor.

“During my student days, we did that experiment. It worked, although it took several tries to get it right.” The professor shrugs. “Even lightning rods don't catch all the lightning. They are a very peculiar phenomenon.”

“I understand,” Ryujin says. “Let's do that, then. In the field?”

“I agree,” Chaeryeong says. “That way we'll be away from prying eyes.”

“That's right,” the professor says. “Chaeryeong and I will have to be far away, about fifty meters or so.”

Chaeryeong and Ryujin exchange a glance. This is bad.

“Ryujin can't go farther than twenty meters away if she's bewitching a person,” Chaeryeong says, looking at the professor and ignoring the furious glare Ryujin gives her for using the term bewitching.

Professor Jihyo whistles with a grimace.

“No ing way—” Chaeryeong blinks at this “—I'm going to let you, Chaeryeong, or anyone else stand out in the open twenty meters from the site of a lightning strike,” Jihyo says sharply.

“With all due respect, professor, I'm still going to do it,” Chaeryeong says stubbornly.

Ryujin gives her a worried look.

“No, Chaeryeong. I won't agree to let you put yourself in danger.” Ryujin looks like she wants to add something else, but she doesn't.

The professor catches her attention with a snap of her fingers.

“We can stay inside a car while Ryujin stands outside, holding the balloon.” Seeing the puzzled look on both girls' faces, she sighs as if they were missing something obvious. “If several lightning bolts strike and one hits the car, it will dissipate through the metal parts of the car to the tires without doing anything to us.”

Ryujin and Chaeryeong share another look, debating silently. Chaeryeong thinks the plan is right, and nods. Ryujin nods back.

“Fine,” Ryujin says, turning to the professor.

Chaeryeong takes out her phone.

“I'm going to see when it's going to rain next.”

~~~

One week.

That's how long it will take for a promising enough rain to fall. And that's how long it will take Chaeryeong to find out if Ryujin can come back to life. She's not surprised to know that it's what she's been longing for the most in recent times. “Please let it work.” She remembers Ryujin's words in that abandoned house. The first thing she would do would be to hug Chaeryeong.

Chaeryeong wants it too. What will it be like? What will it be like to hold Ryujin in her arms? Or to her hair? Chaeryeong feels her cheeks light up. She squeezes the rolled-up sheets in her lap. “Why do I think these things?”

“Hey!”

Chaeryeong blurts out an interjection and winces on the bed.

“Ryujin! I told you—” Chaeryeong falls silent. Good thing Ryujin can't read minds.

“Your ears are red. Are you warm?”

“Ah, uhm… Y-yes,” Chaeryeong mumbles.

“Lower the temperature of the air conditioner then. I just saw Jisu and that Yeji girl walking around campus holding hands.”

“It's no secret that they're crazy about each other,” Chaeryeong comments, remembering the night she caught them kissing.

“Are people still courting each other like before?” Ryujin asks, cross-legged and upside down in the air.

“Ah?” The issue catches Chaeryeong off base.

“Do they still give each other flowers, exchange phone numbers and talk for long periods of time?” Ryujin tilts her head to one side; her hair is not affected by gravity. “Are the dates still in parks, restaurants and so on?”

“Exchanging numbers, yes, but the rest, not so much. Now it's a thousand messages per hour.”

Ryujin snorts. “In my day it was better,” she says. “At least holding hands doesn't go out of style.”

“That's always been nice,” Chaeryeong says, wondering if Ryujin's hands will be soft. “I hope it always will be. By the way, you sounded like an old lady with the 'my day' thing.”

Ryujin laughs, sticking a smile on Chaeryeong's face.

“I'm twenty, I can assure that,” Ryujin says.

“If you've been a ghost for eighteen years, you're actually thirty and—”

“I'm twenty!” Ryujin says more forcefully and gives her a warning glance. “My age paused when I died, okay? Like a movie. Just like that.”

“As you say,” Chaeryeong says, raising her hands. In a burst of courage, Chaeryeong asks, “Would you like to go to a park?”

Ryujin blinks and looks at her in surprise. “Heck, we were just talking about what people do when they like each other. idiot!”

“Tomorrow?”

“Say what?” Chaeryeong says.

“Tomorrow. You know, go to the park.” Ryujin, uncharacteristically for her, sounds unsure.

“Oh, s-s-sure.” Why the babbling? “I'll have to get plenty of sleep for when you bewi—for when you make me your home,” Chaeryeong quickly corrects as she notices Ryujin's gaze.

Ryujin smiles broadly. Did her smile dimple? Chaeryeong can't say for sure, and she hates not being able to check.

“Great,” Ryujin says.

Nice.

~~~

“This restaurant wasn't around when I was alive,” Ryujin comments, pointing to the restaurant on the left side of the road.

Chaeryeong doesn't respond to the comment, as a woman walks past her. “To hell with that Death Department,” Chaeryeong thinks not for the first time.

It is later, after making sure no one is nearby, that Chaeryeong speaks.

“I haven't tried it. Looks nice.” Chaeryeong wants to add 'We can try it together', but refrains. Such words would stick in her like daggers if Ryujin can't regain her physical form.

Ryujin does not respond. A row of trees appears to the right and she flies up to them, losing herself in their branches. Chaeryeong sees her appear at the top, not too high and within twenty meters.

“One of the few good things about being a ghost,” she shouts, her strange voice not expanding like a normal sound. “It's a crude imitation of bird flight, but still amazing.”

Chaeryeong just smiles broadly. She imagines the look she has to give a third party, smiling at a tree for no apparent reason. “Screw them. Everyone would be smiling like me if they talked to Ryujin. Surely.”

Ryujin and she walk, talking when possible. Despite only being at the site for about half an hour, Chaeryeong feels slightly tired. Ryujin's haunting consumes quite a bit of energy. She wonders what would happen if the bewitched person dies, where would Ryujin go, would she disappear? Chaeryeong doesn't ask, she doesn't feel like it.

The two girls decide to stop on a lonely bench in front of a large esplanade. The trees still have green leaves, but in a couple of months they will begin to fade. Ryujin, unusually for her, sits properly on the bench, instead of levitating.

“In case you think I'm holding a grudge,” Ryujin says out of the blue, “I'm not.”

“What do you mean?” Chaeryeong remembers the promise she had made earlier. “Ah, I—”

“Relax, I know you just wanted to help me. Don't worry about it. To me, you haven't broken your promise at any time. We're still trying, aren't we?”

“I guess, but I shouldn't have promised things I don't know if I'll keep. I can't forgive myself. And don't try to convince me otherwise.”

“When you talk like that, it's better not to even think about it.”

Chaeryeong smiles. She wipes it off, thinking of something.

“If this doesn't work,” Chaeryeong tries hard not to sound terrified, “I'll promise something I'll keep.”

She turns to Ryujin, who was already looking at her.

“I'll be there when you go to the afterlife.”

Ryujin looks at her silently, seemingly relaxed. Slowly, she turns her head away. Chaeryeong sees something roll down her cheeks.

“Thank you,” Ryujin says, her voice showing deep sadness. “I don't think I'm brave enough to do it alone. It's too scary, but if you're there maybe I can do it. You being the last thing I see… Maybe it will give me strength.”

Ryujin collects the tears in her spectral hands and stops crying. Chaeryeong looks at her hands silently, accusing the strong, impossible-to-swallow lump in her windpipe. Will she have the strength for that? To see Ryujin disappear forever from her life? But she already promised. “If it comes to it, I have to do it. My one act of love for her. Let her go, let her rest. God, hurts like hell.”

“I'll go throw these things away somewhere where no one will see them,” Ryujin says, flying away.

Chaeryeong sees her approach a tree and unceremoniously dump her ghostly tears there. Chaeryeong wishes with all her might that she didn't have to keep the promise she just made.

~~~

The alarm wakes Chaeryeong. Noon. The storm is forecast for the afternoon, and she has been sleeping all day to save as much energy as possible for Ryujin.

She jumps out of bed and prepares her things. Some food, a bottle of water, two raincoats (one Jisu's, one hers), clean clothes. The clothes are hers: a gray wool shirt, black long pants, a black leather coat, shoes and socks. She empties her backpack and stuffs everything in there, except for the raincoats.

Ryujin appears over the roof. Her eyes are full of anticipation. Jisu is not in the room.

Chaeryeong tucks the raincoats under her arm and grabs the straps of the backpack in her hand. The girls are heading out of the dorm complex when Professor Jihyo tells them that she is waiting for them in the parking lot. Jisu is in the study hall with Yeji, and gives them a nod and a silent “cheers”.

Ryujin links up with Chaeryeong at the edge of the facility. With hurried pace, they arrive at the parking lot.

“I've been driving around the place where the storm will hit,” the professor reports, climbing into her red car. “We'll leave Seoul and drive until the fields appear. Then we have to find a country road and drive far away from the highway.”

Chaeryeong nods. It's the twentieth time she's heard the plan. Although the downpour will fall in the afternoon, they don't waste any more time. Chaeryeong climbs into the driver's seat, leaving the backpack on the back seats and putting the raincoats on her legs.

The trip passes in silence.

“I'd put the pedal to the metal, but the idea is not to get arrested for speeding,” Jihyo says apologetically.

“Don't worry,” Chaeryeong mutters, looking out the window.

She’s glad to see dark clouds condensing in the distance.

Two hours later, all trace of Seoul has been left behind. Fields stretch out on either side now, some enclosed by wooden fences. Clouds, black as coal, loom menacingly in the firmament.

Chaeryeong can't help but bristle with nerves. It doesn't help that the atmosphere inside and outside the car is frigid.

Two rural roads, marked by ruts left by vehicles, appear. However, neither will do: the places they lead to—farms—are too close.

Chaeryeong looks at the speed marked on the dashboard. It's possible the professor is going over the limit, but she approves. She stifles a yawn with the back of her hand. She looks in the rearview mirror, but sees nothing, clearly. Ryujin can only be seen with her own eyes.

She turns around, and there she is. Sitting in the middle of the back seat, her head is turned towards the window. Her brow is furrowed, as if she's deep in thought, but she relaxes it as she notices Chaeryeong looking at her. A smile lights up her ethereal features. Chaeryeong returns it to her before turning away. “It has to work. Please, I beg.”

A few drops fall on the window. The sun is nowhere to be seen, drowned out by dark, dense black clouds. Thunder rumbles loudly in the sky. “Great, that's what I want to hear.”

Another dirt road appears. Jihyo steps onto it. The road disappears into the distance. Despite the potholes, the professor barely slows down. Chaeryeong, between jumps, puts on her raincoat. She’s relieved to look back and not see the main road. There is nothing ahead either. On the sides, after some wooden fences, there is just a flat field of overgrown grass. The professor parks in such a way as to block the road, with the nose of the car pointing towards the fence, inches from the car.

Thick, heavy drops crash against the windshield and roof. Tuk, tuk, tuk, tu-tuk.

“Here we are,” Professor Park murmurs. She puts on the raincoat Chaeryeong holds out to her and gets out of the car. Chaeryeong follows her to the suitcase in the car. “Here's everything,” she says, lifting the lid.  

Several balloons, tied with white thread, float there. There are also very thin copper-colored wires, also made of copper. A long steel tube, with a pointed end, rests next to a shorter thin rod of apparent metal.

With deft hands, the professor wraps the copper wire around a helium-filled balloon. The balloons are green. She then ties the other end of the wire to the metal rod and fits it into the hollow end of the javelin. She holds everything out to Chaeryeong. The girl gets into the passenger seat again and Ryujin approaches her.

“Ryujin, get as far away as you can and make a mark on the ground,” Chaeryeong asks.

Ryujin nods and walks away, through the fences. The rain is intensifying. Seconds later, she returns.

“Ready,” she says.

Chaeryeong then runs off. Thunder rumbles, nearby. Her heart pounds. She prays that lightning doesn't strike just then. Killing herself is not the plan.

The mark consists of some flattened weeds, with the ground scoured to one side. Chaeryeong s the javelin hard. Ryujin appears at her side and holds the copper thread. Chaeryeong takes a couple of steps away and looks at her.

“I'll go back to the car,” she half screams, due to the rain, but doesn't move away.

“Whatever happens… Thank you for everything, Chaery,” responds, in the same volume, Ryujin, showing her semi-transparent teeth in a smile. “I—You're amazing,” she quickly corrects herself as if it's nothing.

“'I'? What did she mean?” Chaeryeong thinks. She shakes her head gently; not now. She wants to say something else, but nothing comes to mind, so she just smiles to Ryujin, who is watching the globe closely, and runs off. Once in the car, the professor turns off the car and crawls toward the inside edge of her seat. Chaeryeong mimics her, whereupon they almost touch. They both look silently through the windshield, beyond, at Ryujin, standing and holding the globe. She scans the sky. She gives the impression, at this distance, of being a child.

Lightning illuminates the clouds above them. The roar that follows soon after makes Chaeryeong's hair stand on end. The professor holds out two small soft things. Earplugs. Chaeryeong puts them in. Now she can't hear anything.

The rain makes it impossible to see anything through the windshield. The professor frequently starts the car just to activate the windshield wipers. It is futile, as the thick, heavy drops of water cover everything again.

Chaeryeong feels her heart pounding in her ears. She fiddles nervously with her fingers, twisting them. Ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes pass. A lot of thunder sounds, but nothing like lightning. On the other hand, the rain doesn't let up, which is a good thing.

Chaeryeong stifles a big yawn. She is quite sleepy, but it would be impossible to fall asleep. She would rather die from lack of sleep than miss everything that's going on.

She is nodding off when a powerful white glow blinds her.

Chaeryeong and Jihyo jump in their seats and scream. Sleep is gone in a flash, startled by the din, which even earplugs don't completely drown out. The hairs stand on end and Chaeryeong could swear the car moved due to the impact.

“Lightning!” she shouts.

That's when Chaeryeong notices.

She is not as tired as she was a few seconds ago.

Chaeryeong jumps out of the car and slams the door shut, ignoring Jihyo's screams about it being dangerous. Rather, she can't even hear her. She jumps over the fence. The whitish curtain of rain makes it hard for her to see. Everything seems to go in slow motion.

A smell of damp earth and smoke wafts from the impact site. Where the javelin was buried, there is now a smoking hole at least five meters in radius. Chaeryeong doesn't see the javelin anywhere, but she sees something else.

A figure, lying on the ground. Black hair, white pants, gray T-shirt.

It is not transparent.

Chaeryeong kneels beside her and, bless her luck, touches her. Her fingers grasp the girl's arms. She turns her over.

It's Ryujin.

Without giving herself time to celebrate, Chaeryeong carries her on her back with unheard-of strength and runs back to the car. The professor already opened the back door. Chaeryeong lays Ryujin down there and gets into the back seat with her. She removes her earplugs and leaves them on the seat.

“Turn on the heater!” Chaeryeong orders, forgetting that she's talking to a professor.

The light from the car illuminates Ryujin's wet face. Her clothes are soaked and are wetting the seat.

Chaeryeong settles her in her arms. She touches her face, unable to believe she can do it. Without realizing it, she her cheeks. Chaeryeong knows she should be thinking a thousand things, but she thinks only one.

“What color are your eyes?” she asks, very softly.

Carefully, she places her hand on Ryujin's chest. She almost screams with joy when she feels her heart beating in rhythm.

“Wake up, Ryu,” she urges. “Please. I want to see your eyes.”

A quiet moan leaves the short-haired girl's lips. She frowns and lifts her eyelids.

Ryujin's eyes are a beautiful brown color.

Chaeryeong smiles widely, looking into the most beautiful eyes she has ever had the pleasure to admire.

Ryujin touches Chaeryeong’s face, getting it wet. Her fingers are cold, but Chaeryeong feels them burning her skin where they land.

“I can feel,” Ryujin croaks hoarsely, and her voice sounds like that of a normal person. It doesn't sound clipped. “Why are you crying?”

“Huh? Am I crying?” Chaeryeong asks, still smiling.

“Uhum.” Ryujin in a big breath of air with her eyes wide open. “I breathe.”

Chaeryeong her hair, feeling her heart fluttering like crazy.

“Welcome back, Ryu,” she says.

It's Ryujin's turn to sob. She rushes over to Chaeryeong, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Chaeryeong reciprocates the hug enthusiastically. Neither of them says anything. Chaeryeong even forgets that the professor is staring at them with wild eyes.

“I told you the first thing I'd do would be to hug you,” Ryujin murmurs against the raincoat.

“I'm glad you kept it,” Chaeryeong whispers.

Chaeryeong wants to touch her more. Her cheeks flush pink at the thought, imperious. She wants to run her fingers over Ryujin's face, through her hair, down her arms, but she reminds herself that she can't. It would be strange. She settles for the embrace.

Sometime later, Ryujin breaks away. She turns her head towards the third person present. Chaeryeong then remembers that the professor is still there. Jihyo looks at the roof of the car, looking uncomfortable.

“Hello, professor,” Ryujin says, still in a hoarse voice. “How are you doing? Sorry for getting the seat wet.”

“Y-you're kidding? We brought back a ghost! This is ing awesome!”

Chaeryeong blinks at the rudeness, but Ryujin laughs. Her laughter echoes through the car.

“ing awesome,” she repeats.

The professor reaches out an arm and touches Ryujin's hair, instantly withdrawing her hand. “Amazing,” she mutters. She straightens up in her seat and starts the car. “Let's get out of here before someone sees us and asks questions.”

Suddenly, Chaeryeong is aware that she has Ryujin still in her arms. She clears and allows Ryujin to sit on the seat. She moves a little away from her, her head spinning. She already wants to hug her again.

A while later, when the car is back on the highway, the professor slows down. The rain doesn't let up.

“How are you feeling?” Chaeryeong asks, turning a little towards Ryujin.

The girl brushes away the hair stuck to her face before answering, “Light. I mean, I feel fine, but a little light. Like when you carry something heavy for a long time, release it and move your arms, feeling them made of paper.” Ryujin moves her arm quickly, almost as if using more force than necessary. “That's how I feel, but other than that, nothing hurts.”  She touches the sleeve of Chaeryeong's raincoat. “It's fascinating to be able to feel.” Unexpectedly, her hand touches Chaeryeong's hand. The redhead's breath catches for a second before returning to normal. “It feels weird to touch skin.” She pulls her hand away and looks at it, as if she's never seen it before. “God, I'm so hungry,” she suddenly blurts out.

“I'm glad it's all right,” the professor interjects, eyes fixed on the road, but sounding genuinely relieved.

“I'm relieved that you're feeling well,” Chaeryeong says, looking out her window.

“Thank you, guys.” Ryujin's gratitude fills the entire car.

The teacher holds up a thumb for the female passengers to see, and Chaeryeong pats Ryujin's wet shoulder.

Silence settles in the car, broken, at first, only by the torrential rain that hugs the atmosphere. Ten minutes later or so—Chaeryeong loses track of time, thinking that the plan has worked—a powerful, crackling noise helps to break the silence. 

“I'm very hungry,” Ryujin reports, embarrassed. Chaeryeong laughs. Ryujin joins her, and Professor Jihyo smiles, looking at them in the rearview mirror.

~~~

Professor Jihyo's house is small but cozy. She lives alone. “Because I like solitude,” according to herself.

“Sorry for the mess,” Ryujin says when they meet in the living room, after running from the car. The rain hasn't let up.

“Don't worry; I'll dry it later.” The professor makes a gesture to play it down.

“I'll do it,” Chaeryeong offers.

“Perfect. I'll go prepare food. Ryujin, the restroom is down that hallway—” Professor Park points to a hallway on the left “—on the right.”

As Chaeryeong picks up the mop, she hears a thump at the end of the same hallway where Ryujin left, followed by a “!”.

“Ryujin!”

“It’s okay!” shouts the aforementioned. “I forgot I can't go through things anymore.” A chuckle sounds.

Chaeryeong doesn't want to laugh—she feels he shouldn't—but she can't suppress an amused smile.

When she finishes, Chaeryeong sits down on one of the dining room chairs in the living room with a sigh. No more noises are heard coming from the bathroom, only from the kitchen.

Soon after, Ryujin appears. She is drying her hair, which falls as a short wavy waterfall to her shoulders, with a white towel. She’s dressed in the clothes Chaeryeong brought from her own closet, which seems to be a bit too big for the girl.

Chaeryeong swallows saliva as she gazes at Ryujin. From that night when Chaeryeong saw her bathed in moonlight, she had a rough idea of her beauty, but now she realizes that she didn't come close to taking it all in. Her hair as black as a raven's feather is, to Chaeryeong, captivating; her lips, pink, look—

Gee, stop!

Not even with Ryujin being flesh and blood again, Chaeryeong dares to acknowledge what is bubbling inside her. She only dares to acknowledge that it’s there, no more.

Ryujin exclaims with relief, “How beautiful it’s to be able to take off the same clothes I've been wearing for eighteen years! I'm going to burn those pieces of rag myself. First, though, I want to eat until I… burst," Ryujin says after a slight hesitation.