Ting─

With the sound of the glass bell, Jehee left the mart, loading the trunk with shopping bags that filled both his hands.

Today was a day off from the Hunter activities of the Princess of Black Flame. No, to be precise, it was the 5th day of his license suspension.

[The mystical beast ‘Wandering Cat in the Darkness’ really didn’t know its child would be such a pain, scoffing with a hand on its hip, saying that little brat is neither a friend nor anything.] [Humans can’t be trusted after all. In this world, the only thing I can trust is myself! I emphasize this to you again.]

As the cat said, Lee Jun really did report to the association about Eunha’s individual actions. Trixster did the same.

Thus, the two were suspended from activities for 20 days.

Fortunately, Siwoo did not blame Eunha. Perhaps it was thanks to Jehee, as he had brought an incredibly great opportunity to offset the temporary suspension of Hunter activities.

‘……A television appearance?’

‘Yes. It’s a hardwon spot. The director… No, the president praised you as well.’

Three days ago, Jehee had said so with a very proud face.

After appearing on Onteun’s , the Princess of Black Flame had not appeared on TV.

The program that he brought this time was a popular talk show from public broadcasting station K, promising viewership incomparably higher than that of Onteun, a cable broadcaster.

‘Just appearing there will not only increase your recognition but naturally raise your worth as well. The fact that you appeared there is proof itself.’

His voice was always excited when saying that…

Eunha, who was seated in the passenger seat, glanced at Jehee as she fastened her seatbelt.

Jehee was rigid, clutching his mobile phone instead of the steering wheel. Contrary to his excitement yesterday, his face was dark as if he had drawn a portrait.

“Shall we go?”

Eunha, tired of waiting, suddenly spoke, and Jehee’s head snapped up.

“Ah, yes. Let’s set off.”

Ha ha ha. Jehee laughed while scratching the back of his head, stuffing his mobile phone into his pocket.

Jehee had been strange since this morning. Thinking his face looked somewhat pallid and attributing it to simple lack of sleep, she realized that there seemed to be something else going on.

“……”

Eunha slanted her gaze down. His right hand, grasping the car’s gear, was trembling slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

Startled, Jehee hit his head on the car ceiling.

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

……There is something. Eunha was certain but didn’t pry any further.

There was no conversation between them after that.

Fortunately, they arrived without major incident at their destination, his mother’s grave. However, Jehee still had the expression of someone whose spirit had fled.

When Eunha took out the apples she had bought earlier, Jehee perked up.

“Ah, give it to me. I’ll cut it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Don’t underestimate the 14th level housewife.”

With a soulless expression, Jehee grabbed the fruit knife. A few seconds later.

“Ah, ow!”

He cut his hand on the knife and made a fuss. Eunha quickly approached him.

“Give it to me. I’ll do it.”

“Ah, no. I want to do it.”

Jehee laughed heartily, refusing to hand over the knife.

“This is the tombstone of Hunternim’s mother. So she’s also someone I should honor.”

“……Is that so?”

“Yes. It is.”

Jehee diligently peeled the apple. During that time, she thought she heard him exclaim ‘Ah!’ or ‘Ouch!’ a few times more, but Eunha decided not to take the knife away from him.

As time passed and the sun dimly began to set behind the forest of buildings, Jehee spoke.

“Hunternim.”

Eunha, who had been staring at the tombstone, slowly turned her head. Jehee’s eyes, gazing at the tombstone, were complicated. The shadow on his face didn’t seem to be just from the twilight.

“What does it feel like to lose a family?”

Taken aback by the unexpected question, Eunha closed her lips. What does it feel like? That was an indescribable feeling, one she didn’t even want to explain.

In the heavy silence, Jehee suddenly came to his senses and lifted his head.

“Ah… I asked something unnecessary. I’m sorry─.”

“I regret it.”

“Excuse me?”

Frozen, Jehee slowly turned his head toward Eunha.

“I said I regret it.”
Whiiing─

A dry wind blew. The wind, infused with the sunset, was both hot and chilly. In the tepid atmosphere, the profile of Eunha, tinged with the sunset, seemed deeply submerged somewhere.

“The moment my mother passed away, I wasn’t by her side. Why was I somewhere else at that time? If I knew this would happen, I would have stayed home. If I knew, I wouldn’t have made a fuss about the side dishes that morning.”

Selfreproach. Helplessness. And regret.

A voice mixed with all sorts of emotions was neither cold nor hot but surprisingly calm. Like this wind, which had started at some unknown point.

“I just kept having those thoughts. Even now.”

“I see.”

In front of her, Jihwi could not add anything more.