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The girl eats as if she hasn't consumed a morsel of food since she fled New Sinsi—which might very well be the case if the baegopeun gwisin ate all the food she'd brought to the village. One of the ghost's breath had smelled suspiciously like dried-squid snacks.

Sitting in an Okpo restaurant, clad in one of his spare shirts, Seokga watches as Choi Ji-ah hunches over her bowl of bibimbap and shovels the rice into her mouth with an almost impressively inhuman speed. Next to her, Hani is staring into space. Her expression is one of exhaustion and pain. Seokga flexes his jaw. Those damned baegopeun gwisin.

Before stopping at the restaurant, Seokga tried to convince Hani to enter an urgent care hospital for treatment of her leg. The fox adamantly refused, stating that she didn't need a doctor despite the clear evidence of the opposite. So Seokga instead stalked into a pharmacy to buy bandages—real bandages—along with painkillers and a disinfectant cream. Hani has not yet used them, claiming that she'll heal soon enough thanks to her gumiho powers. But the bite marks are still deep in her leg with no sign of fading.

Stubborn fox.

It is late now, nearing evening. The walk out of Maengjongjuk Forest took nearly two hours, thanks to their utter lack of direction and Hani's badly wounded leg. Already, it's growing dark outside of the tiny diner. Okpo is slowly being covered by an inky darkness signaling the arrival of the night.

"We should find a hotel," Seokga says, meeting Hani's dazed eyes. The gumiho dips her head into a slight nod and winces.

"I saw one a few blocks away," she says wearily. "The Lotus Hotel. We can rest there for the night."

Seokga glances to Ji-ah, who is still shoveling food into her mouth. He arches a brow inquisitively at Hani. Let's question her.

Later.The gumiho shakes her head. She's been through enough today.

He sighs in irritation, settling back in his seat. He wants answers, damn it—and he wants them soon. Seokga called Shim a half hour earlier to check on Dok-hyun (still moping), and let him know they'd found the witness. Dok-hyun might be able to be released as soon as Ji-ah gives her statement, but he takes a closer look at the witness's haggard face and food-flecked mouth.

Perhaps the fox is right. All of them have had a particularly trying day. If Ji-ah gives her statement now, it might break her last grip on sanity. As for him, his limbs still ache from the little tumble that Hani and he took down that hill.

At the recollection, Seokga grimaces. Perhaps it will be a slightly amusing memory one day. But for now…He glowers at Hani as he recalls how the feeling of crashing through a bamboo forest was much less than pleasant.

She glowers right back.

"Thank you for the meal," Ji-ah mumbles as she sets down her spoon and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Has the girl never heard of napkins? "I appreciate it very much." She bows slightly as much as she can sitting at the small wooden table.

Hani smiles at her, although it's more of a grimace than anything. "Of course, Ji-ah," she replies as Seokga waves down the waiter for the check. "If you need anything else, just let us know."

The girl's eyes are dark and haunted as she turns to the wood-latticed window next to her, staring out at the shadowed streets. Not for the first time, Seokga notes how terribly pale her skin is. As if she has been living in a constant state of shocked terror. "It's coming," she whispers. "I can feel it in my bones. It's coming for me; it's looking for me."

Seokga and Hani exchange wary glances.

"Unfortunately for it," Seokga drawls, placing cash within the leather folder, "it won't be finding you anytime soon, Ji-ah. Come." He leans heavily on his cane as he stands, his limbs heavy with fatigue. "The Lotus Hotel is not far away."

"What was it?" Ji-ah whispers, still looking at the street. "What was it? How is it possible that…these things exist?" She turns to Hani and Seokga with a trembling lower lip. "I've gone insane," she whispers before a slow smile spreads across her face, not reaching her haunted eyes. "Insane, insane, insane, insane…"

"You'll feel better after a night's sleep," Hani says, gesturing for Ji-ah to rise. "How long has it been since you slept?"

"Nights and days and nights," Ji-ah murmurs, rising unsteadily. "The ghosts were knocking on my door…knocking on my door…and every time I close my eyes…nightmares…it's coming for me; it's looking for me…"

Hani's teeth are clenched as they exit the diner onto the night-darkened street outside. "Cane," she demands, and Seokga sighs as he reluctantly hands her his staff. It does little to help her limp, and the absence of it in his hand brings out his own, but they manage to collect their duffel bags from his car and arrive at the hotel, a small building of white brick with a fluorescent sign reading welcome to the lotus hotel buzzing above the revolving glass doors. It looks like little more than a shabby inn, but Seokga finds that he doesn't quite care. As long as they have beds, he'll be more than satisfied.

The lobby smells of cheap candles and even cheaper air fresheners. Ratty sofas compose a makeshift waiting room, and a threadbare rug covers the creaking wooden floor. A woman sits at the front desk, lining her lips with a foul-smelling gloss and snacking on a bag of honey butter chips. She glances up over her glasses as they approach, arching a brow at Hani's pronounced gait, Ji-ah's nonsense mumblings, and Seokga's less-than-pleasant resting face. "Mm-hmm?" she asks, setting down her lipstick.

"Three rooms," Seokga says, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

"Mm," the woman says again. "We-ell…" She looks as if she's about to say more, but abruptly cuts herself off, taking his card and swiping it. The woman hands it back, munching on a chip. "We only have two left," she says through a mouthful. "So I charged your card for the two remaining rooms. No refunds," she adds with an oily smile, sliding over two room keys.

Seokga is too exhausted to argue, even as annoyance tightens his chest. "How many beds in each?" Please, please, let there be at least two.

"One," the woman replies, crunching. "Mm…there are couches, though. One per room."

"It's fine." Hani sends Seokga a weary look. "I'll just share a room with Ji-ah."

The elevator is overwhelmingly heavy with the scent of gym socks as it creaks upward to the sixth floor, opening to a narrow corridor with a notably low ceiling and an uneven floor. Seokga hands Hani her room key. Room 603. Seokga is in room 610. They are directly across from each other. "I'll see you in the morning," he mutters. "Tend to your leg." He's stuffed the goods from the pharmacy into her tote bag despite her protests.

Hani rolls her eyes before handing him his cane and limping down the hallway, Ji-ah in tow. Seokga makes his way to his own room, unlocking the flimsy door and stepping inside to a cramped bedroom with an even smaller bathroom located just to the right of the entrance.

The bed is large enough for him, although the blankets are ratty and the pillows squashed. A flickering bedside lamp is the only source of light, illuminating a ratty sofa ridden with suspicious-looking stains. Seokga wrinkles his nose before peeling off his dirtied clothes and stepping into the bathroom's shower. The tiled floor is cracked, and the harsh soap smells of strong chemicals, but Seokga doesn't care. He only wants to be clean.

He has just stepped out of the shower when the door of his room shudders under the impact of three sharp knocks. Seokga frowns, reaching for a towel. "Who is it," he demands.

The answering voice is Hani's. "Me."

Seokga blinks. He hasn't expected to speak to Hani again tonight, not after their spat in the forest. "What do you want," he finally snaps, wrapping the towel around his waist and padding to the door.

"Ji-ah kicked me out," is the bitter retort on the other side of the door. "She also threw a lamp at my head."

Seokga stares at the door. "What?"

"She's hysterical," Hani says. "Her entire world has been turned upside down; it makes sense that she wants to be alone. But she didn't need to throw a lamp at my head." The door shakes again as she bangs her fist against it. "Let me in, Seokga."

"In a moment—" Seokga glances around for his clean clothes just as a suspicious clicking noise emerges from the door. He turns back to it, narrow-eyed. "Are you picking the lock?" He clenches the towel more firmly around himself.

In answer, the door swings open, revealing a very haggard, very angry Hani. "Yes," she says, stepping inside, seemingly not caring that he is clad only in a towel. She tucks a bobby pin back into her tangled hair and shuts the door. "It was worryingly easy."

Petulant, Seokga glares at her. "This is my room."

"It's our room now," she replies, and Seokga's breath hitches as her eyes run over him. His towel hangs low on his waist, and he grips the coarse fabric tightly in one fist, hating how his body suddenly feels hot all over. Her attention is like an itch upon his skin—an infuriating, annoying itch that he wants to scratch.

Seokga swallows hard. Narrows his eyes into a glare.

And notices that Hani's cheeks are the same color as the bubblegum she'd smacked at him that first day in the precinct.

An unexpected surge of satisfaction heats his blood as Hani quickly averts her gaze, limps over to the bed, and dumps her duffel next to Seokga's. "Is today National No-Shirt Day, or something?" she mutters, crossing her arms and staring at the wall behind him. "Put on some clothes."

"No," says Seokga, simply to annoy her.

"Yes." Hani scowls at him.

Exasperated, he stalks over to his bag. "You'll be sleeping on the couch," he mutters, grabbing a T-shirt and boxers.

Hani shrugs. "We'll see about that."

Not for the first time this week, Seokga wonders why his father bothered to create gumiho. Hani rummages around in her bag before pulling out a set of pink pin-striped pajamas. "I'm going to shower."

"Be careful of your leg," Seokga can't help adding. The harsh soap will certainly sting those bite marks. "You should clean and bind the wound before you shower."

Hani gives him a peculiar look as she limps to the bathroom. The echoes of their argument in the forest linger in his ears, and he swallows a twinge of remorse.

Why do you need to be such adick all the time?

"I'll be fine."

"I told you to clean and bind the wound before your shower," Seokga snaps, kneeling on the floor of the bathroom as Hani sits on the counter of the sink, her wounded leg dripping blood onto the ground where it mingles pink with the droplets of shower water. Her lips are tight with pain as she clutches the ratty gray bathrobe tighter around her body.

"The soap cleaned it out for me. While stinging like a little bitch," she adds under her breath in resentment.

Seokga looks up at her in exasperation. Hani was in the shower for approximately two minutes before her shrill, foghorn-esque yowl of pain shattered the quiet of the tiny hotel room. "I'm going to bind your leg with bandages," he grits out, deciding to do so if only to stop her incessant complaining. "Real bandages. And then you're going to take the painkillers." He reaches for the pharmacy bag he's carried with him into the bathroom, having run to the door as Hani's wails had begun to turn into animal-like screeches of agony.

"Fine," she says with a sigh, leaning her head against the mirror. "Do what you must."

Seokga shakes his head in annoyance and opens the box containing a tube of antibacterial ointment and the bag of cotton balls, eyeing the four deep punctures on Hani's bare calf. "This will sting, too," he cautions.

"Just get it over with," she grits out.

Seokga opens the ointment and wrinkles his nose at the acerbic smell. Carefully, he squeezes out a dollop onto a cotton ball. "I'm going to apply it now," he warns before gingerly dabbing the ointment onto one of the bite marks. Hani stiffens, but keeps still as Seokga cleans the first wound.

He tries to ignore how smooth Hani's skin is as his fingers curl around her toned calf in order to steady her as he cleans. Tries to ignore that Hani is dressed only in a ratty robe, that suds of soap still cling to the slopes of her neck and that droplets of water slide down the length of her leg. Tries very hard to ignore that the swell of her breasts is visible in between the folds of the bathrobe, pushing the image of her in the forest from his mind—that godsdamn lacy bra had affected him more than it should have. Seokga's mouth is suddenly dry and he twists it into a scowl, lest—gods forbid—Hani notices that he is hating her a little less than usual.

Hani tilts her head back against the mirror and makes a small noise of contemplation. "I think," she says slowly as Seokga begins to clean the second wound, "that when we get back to New Sinsi with Ji-ah, that we should do what you said and erase her memory. And maybe we can assign some haetae to look after her, to protect her from the eoduksini until we kill it."

Seokga glances up at her. "What changed your mind?"

"She's…" Hani shakes her head. "She's not doing so well. I think granting her amnesia would be best."

"I'm not surprised. The minds of mortals are fragile." Seokga dabs the fourth and final puncture, careful not to press down too hard. "This realm breeds nothing but weakness. It's an easy target for the eoduksini." It's surprising, he adds silently, that some of these weak mortals once grew into gods. Dalnim and Haemosu, the goddess of the moon and the god of the sun, were mere humans escaping from a bloodthirsty tiger before Mireuk transformed them into the divinities that they are now. Jacheongbi was once a human girl, as well. Seokga is quite proud to say that he, at least, has never been a mortal. He was born as he is now, a god—glorious and mighty, and altogether superior. Was born from two godly parents, Mireuk and Mago. The god of creation, and the goddess of the earth.

"You've lived on Iseung for six hundred and something years," Hani replies skeptically. "How is it that you still hate it so much? Is there seriously nothing that you like about it?"

Seokga stiffens at the fox's prying questions as he reaches for the roll of gauze.

"Ice cream?" Hani tries. "Amusement parks? Music? Thunderstorms?"

He does not answer.

"I knew it," Hani mutters. "Not even a single thing."

That's not true. The injustice of her scorn sets his shoulders squaring.

"I like coffee," Seokga bites out defensively. "No—I love coffee. It is the sole creation of this realm that pleases me."

Hani stares down at him from her seat on the sink, her eyes beginning to dance. "Oh?"

"It's delicious," he mutters, turning back to the gauze. She is deliberately provoking him, he knows, but cannot stop himself from defending coffee as he binds her leg.

Her lips are twitching. "I see."

"With one cream and one sugar."

"Of course."

He glares up at her, detecting thinly veiled glee in her tone. "Are you mocking me?"

The laugh that erupts from her lips is bright and beautiful, filling the small bathroom with chiming bells. Hani presses her hand to her mouth, but the laugh still squeezes through the cracks in her fingers, dancing through the hotel room with unconcealed delight.

Seokga stares at her, something in his chest quickening at the color in her cheeks, the life in her eyes, the joy bathing her face in a beautiful radiance. Hastily, he looks away, focusing on her wounded leg. Bind it. He needs to bind it.

He cups her calf in his hand, careful to keep his touch gentle. Above him, Hani falls silent. Seokga glances up at her, and as his eyes meet hers, something passes between them—something warm. Something…something friendly.

Hani smiles, and his heart stumbles. Just slightly. Probably in annoyance. Regardless, Seokga quickly chooses to ruin the moment, looking back to her calf and studiously wrapping it with the gauze. He feels Hani watching him in curiosity.

"You gave me your shirt," she says. "In the forest, I mean. Thank you. And your cane."

He continues wrapping her leg, trying to keep his face composed, his expression inscrutable. Seokga tried, in the bamboo forest, not to care when the baegopeun gwisin had sunk its teeth into Hani's calf. He was determined to leave her to her own devices, still enraged by the fall they'd taken together. Yet the strangled noise of pain that escaped her lips sent him acting without thinking, ridding her of the hungry ghost before his mind could catch up to his body. "Your leg was disgusting to look at," he manages to say, relieved to find his voice steady as he rips the gauze from the roll and ties it, securing the binding to Hani's leg. "I wanted to cover it up."

Hani rolls her eyes and flexes her foot. She tilts her head. "It feels better."

"Obviously. Here." Seokga gently lets go of her leg and stands, handing her a bottle of painkillers. "Take some."

She wrinkles her nose. "I hate medicine," she grumbles, even as she shakes out two pills and swallows them dry. Hani scooches to the edge of the counter and gingerly lowers herself to the floor. Seokga's face warms as she stares up at him with a wry smile. Out of frustration, he insists to himself. Did I not tell her to bind her leg before showering?

"I guess you're good for something, after all," she says, echoing the words that he once said to her.

Seokga allows a thin smirk to curl his lips upward. "Touché," he murmurs as he follows Hani out of the bedroom, noting with smug satisfaction that her limp is gone.