Dream Me a Sonatine

13 - Love and Evil

Yet again, an earbud was yanked out of Hyunjin's ear. Only, this time the wire snapped completely and the melodious chorus of violins grinded to a halt.

'For fuck's sake, Cyclops,' she said, exasperated. Heejin shot her a grin from the sofa opposite. The heinous 'dog' gave her a one-eyed grin, tongue lolling out like melting strawberry ice cream.  Underneath his paw lay the tangled remains of her earbuds.

'Just be grateful Vivi's not here,' said Heejin. 'The number of times she's mentioned the word "airpods"...'

'Don't,' groaned Hyunjin. 'I can literally hear her calling them "rather cheap".'

It felt oddly empty without Vivi's presence. Currently, she was down at the nearest police station, bribing the cops to forget about their little music-school-night-horror mishap. Hyunjin pictured her laden down with bags of gold coins and Gucci clothes, offering a trade. Her hopes weren't high.

Hyejoo, meanwhile, was spending a lot of time either alone or alone and drinking alcohol. It wasn't a drastic change. Hyejoo had always acted like a school rebel crossed with someone's alcoholic uncle, but she'd barely spoken in the last couple of days.

Hyunjin uncrossed her legs and peeked at the book Heejin was reading. Her blood chilled to a tepid slush as the word 'GREYWAREN' shrieked on the pages. Heejin hadn't stopped researching Greywarens since their encounter with the faceless thing. She hadn't found much so far, but every clue led her a fatal step closer to unveiling Hyunjin's secret. Paranoid, she watched Heejin's expression, waiting for horror to twist it as she figured it out.

But Heejin's face was its usual, elegant calm, a mirror of the assassin Hyunjin had met days ago. That new part of Heejin had seemed painstakingly familiar.

'Couteaut called them thieves.'

'What?'

'Greywarens,' said Heejin, her book emitting a poof of dust as she shut it. 'All this information is outdated and useless, because these psychics believed they were objects. But they're people, thieves, actually. So what is it that they steal?'

Hyunjin said, 'Perhaps they steal words. Like that faceless one.'

Doubt crawled in every line and shadow of Heejin's face. 'No,' she said slowly, 'no, I don't think they do. He stole a word right from my mouth, but I can still speak it. That isn't thievery, that's imitation.'

'You don't believe all of them are like him?'

Heejin shook her head, her expression dark. 'No, I think he became like that.'

Hisses and claws ravaged and tore at Hyunjin's chest, panic as thick as tar in her throat. Became. Not born.

Was that what happened to dreamers like her?

She swept the thought away, but dusts of it stuck stubbornly. Unconsciously, her fingers drifted to her hairline, feeling for loose skin that would peel and rot until her face fell away. There was nothing there.

'I have to figure out what they steal,' continued Heejin. 'He had a knife and a gun and neither looked normal.'

'You're still going to kill him,' said Hyunjin quietly.

'I have to.' Hyunjin believed her. It didn't take the sickening feeling away. She sat back, fiddling mournfully with the scraps of wire that had once been her earphones. Heejin asked, 'What were you listening to?'

'Ah, just some classical. Almost makes me miss the music school.'

'Chopin? Strauss? Tchaikovsky?'

The musician in Hyunjin grinned with a nerdy kind of satisfaction; most people didn't bother to ask. 'It's called 'Love and Evil.' Apparently a self-supporting orchestra composed it in London whilst off their heads with LSD.'