What did loss look like? A lot of black. Black cars, black clothes, black hats and veils, black umbrellas to blot out the sun and hide from the crowds. And there was the smothering silence, the smell of incense and flowers, the cold, the emptiness, and the sense that he was still there, just a text message away. Loss touched all of her senses. She felt it all, immutable as waves crashing against the shore. Yes, ‘waves’ was an apt metaphor. She felt the loss over and over, a heaving sensation before she was once again dashed upon the rocks, battered, broken-

“Yeri.”

She looked up from the fog that rolled over her feet, her wane gaze registering the speaker with a resignation that took the other aback.

Irene changed her mind and kept silent, watching Yeri for a moment longer before returning her attention to the proceedings. It seemed their little Oracle needed more time.

“But we move on,” the Mirror King continued. “We must.” His voice sounded far away, muted, almost like a recording playing from another room, though he stood before them all high up on his opalescent diaz. 

The Hall of the Mirror King, he who led the SM Court, was a thing apart from the rest of the world. To step into his Hall was to step outside of reality, and yet everywhere Yeri looked, she saw the signs of reality creeping in. The marble tiles beneath the layers of swirling mist were worn from the passage of so many who had stood here before her. The pillars that lined the room were chipped and traced with hairline cracks that split their surface.

No, it wasn’t just reality. It was Banality.

Even the Mirror King himself seemed to have been dulled by the passage of time. Where once his shimmering reflections caught all who stood before him in a perfect image, now Yeri couldn’t distinguish her own blurred visage from Irene’s even from only a few feet away.

“A Tin Man,” she murmured aloud.

The Mirror King paused mid sentence and lowered his silvery hands, turning to look at her. Irene quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her away. They departed the Hall without another word and headed straight back to the dorm.

+++

“Back already?” Wendy asked, looking up from her reclined position from the couch. “Oh, hi, Yeri…”

Yeri took a deep breath. Everyone greeted her like this these days. “Hanging out for a bit, if that’s alright.”

Wendy picked her laptop up off her stomach and carefully set it on a table before scooting to make room on the couch. “Totally-!” It seemed like she was going to say more but hesitated too long and the solitary upbeat word hung in the air above the gathered trio like the sword of Damocles.

“I’m not that fragile,” Yeri finally protested in the pregnant silence. “Can’t you guys just… treat me like normal?”

Irene and Wendy shared a look before Wendy pushed up off the couch. “If you say so. I’m going to make us something - any requests?” she asked, heading towards the kitchen. Irene shook her head and Wendy shrugged before disappearing.

Yeri sat down on the vacated couch with a huff, and Irene eventually joined her. “I’m tired of everyone acting like I’m going to break!”

“Aren’t you?” Irene asked as she sat back against the cushions and crossed her arms. “It’s hard to lose a friend, you know-”

“I know!” Yeri snapped. “And I’m fine. I have to be, right?” Irene had her arms around Yeri in an instant as the Oracle’s defiant expression suddenly crumbled. “I just wish… I just wish…” Irene buried her face in Yeri’s hair, hiding her own watery eyes as she listened to Yeri’s anguished whispers. “What good am I if I can’t even help my friends? I just wish I had seen it coming…”

“You still aren’t having any visions?” Irene asked quietly as she smoothed Yeri’s hair. She felt Yeri shake her head.

“I don’t know if it’s because of this or… It’s not like I can tell when I’m going to have one. It’s not something I can just turn on and off, like you.”

There was a time Irene also had little control over her abilities, but that was years ago. “So that thing you said in the Hall…”

“What thing?” Yeri asked, pulling away so she could get a look at Irene. The eulogic year-end speech the Mirror King had given had all but completely ricocheted off the shell of her own thoughts. The whole somber event had been a blur.

“The thing about the Tin Man?” Irene prompted. “That wasn’t a vision?”

“Tin Man…? Oh, that. No, I was just thinking how old the King looks these days. Tired. I don’t know, he used to be more… shiny.”

Irene nodded, though she watched her for another moment before finally changing the subject. They were all tired these days. “After we’re done here, I was thinking of going over to Seulgi’s. Would you want to come? Maybe we can watch a movie.”

Yeri sighed. “Maybe. I don’t want to intrude,” she had to add, a shadow of her impish nature finally revealing itself.

Irene was grateful for any return to normalcy and welcomed the teasing, though she still had to act her part. “Don’t be crass,” she shot back in mock offense.

“When are you moving in with her, anyway?” Yeri continued, glad to latch onto a topic that had nothing to do with her.

Irene settled more comfortably into the corner of the couch, tucking her legs beneath her before answering. “I haven’t decided,” she replied airily, her gaze drifting to the kitchen. “It’d be a shame to leave after calling this ‘home’ for so long…”

Yeri rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

“I know,” Irene pouted. “And after everything we went through together.”

“That has nothing to do with it - Irene, it’s just a dorm. It’s not even the same one from when we first debuted!”

“Why are you arguing?” Wendy called from the kitchen, before emerging with a pair of plates with various heated up leftovers. “If Irene moved out, then I’d be all by myself!” She set the plates down before returning to the kitchen for more.

“But wouldn’t that be nice? Having the place all to yourself?” Yeri called after her. She knew Wendy prepared all of this for her sake, but the reheated fried chicken wasn’t doing it for her and she stared at it with a small frown. She herself had already found a place not too far away, though it was far enough that she only saw the others when their activities coincided. 

Maybe Irene had a point. Maybe she missed them.

Irene watched Yeri’s mood begin to deteriorate again, but didn’t have time to comment.

“... Who’s that?” they heard Wendy ask.

“Who’s who?” Irene called back absently.

“I don’t know… it’s some guy - an old man just kind of… oh !” There was a clatter of plates and Irene quickly stood to join her in the kitchen.

“Are you okay? What’s-”

“Shh!!” Wendy hissed as she pulled Irene down beside her, crouched on the floor by the cabinets. This got Yeri’s attention as well and soon the three of them had their heads together conspiratorially. “He saw me!” Wendy mouthed.

“Who??” Irene mouthed back.

Yeri couldn’t help her curiosity even as Wendy grasped at her to stay still; she stood and looked out the kitchen window down into the street below. “It looks like…” Wendy was right, the figure, caught in the orange glow of the dull street lamps, seemed to be that of an old man, small, roundish, and with an impossibly long beard. “He’s definitely looking this way-!” Yeri whispered down to the others, and Irene scooted across the floor to flick off the light.

Plunged into darkness, Yeri could see the old man much better now, and as he continued to gaze up at their kitchen window high above the street, Yeri saw his face split into a wide, toothless grin. A sense of mania seized her heart as she kept watching, but what truly chilled her were his eyes, that unmistakable, perfectly black, bottomless gaze that announced one of Them was in their midst.