Jolting, Ahrisu seized her backpack and crouched under the table. Her pounding heart replaced the noise from the dryer.

  Of course. Considering Jwichi and his lackeys’ line of work, they weren’t residents of this community, but they didn’t have to be in order to visit. Those dirtbags had to work quickly, too.

  Was it his right arm or left? She saw the sleeve, not the hand. If it was the left, she might run into him or his lackeys while going to the marketplace. Should she wait it out? No, those types of adults would spend the night drinking, and she couldn’t sleep here. Should she just do her laundry and come back tomorrow?

  “Did you drop something?”

  The elderly man twisted in his seat to peer at Ahrisu. Nothing, or no one, passed by the entrance so she crawled out from underneath the table and stood.

  Her voice lost, she shook her head, but he went back to reading without saying another word. She couldn’t hide forever, and she put her backpack on.

  Drowning a person in plain view of a witness was different from messing with her in front of many adults. The real issue was once she left this place. A sleepless night awaited her if they spotted her and decided to sniff out more cash. Just what she needed. More stalkers.

  Without a hood, Ahrisu lowered her gaze and brushed her slightly damp strands forward to cover her face. More than not standing out, it was critical not to be recognized by Jwichi and his lackeys. She stepped near the elderly man and cleared her throat, telling him she'd be right back . . .

  If her voice actually came out. The hard-working washing machines and dryer muted anything quieter than a raised voice. Did she have to tell him anything in the first place?

  He didn’t look up from his book. A manhwa, the Japanese variety. The realistically drawn male characters played basketball, and the comic book was old, judging by the art style. Very old.

  The elderly man was busy reading so Ahrisu dipped her head in a quick bow and left him alone. She peeked out the entrance first.

  There was no sign of Jwichi, whether to the left or right or straight across to the opposing coin laundry. He couldn’t be the only person wearing a raincoat, especially in a coastal area. Everyone had to carry around one or a windbreaker with them, and he wasn’t the only person in the world who wore bright yellow.

  Grasping onto that delusion, Ahrisu crossed her arms over her chest and scurried down the stairs.

  The world was different, going in the opposite direction for the first time, and she slowed down to reorient herself. And to prepare for the dense crowd once she hopped off the last step.

  Perhaps because it was dinnertime or because it was the end of typical working hours, but the marketplace was so packed that people stood shoulder to shoulder and shuffled along together. The air buzzed with static, and jumbled voices bounced off the ceiling and walls.

  Ahrisu wasn't ready to dive in. When she stepped back up the stairs, footsteps clambered behind her.

  Three teenage boys squeezed past her, and she stumbled against the wall to steady herself. They dove into a descending green train and entered the fray in comfortable positions.

  The vehicles on the cable car tracks stopped every so often, either to unload cargo or let off passengers. When the green train came to a stop farther down the line, the boys stood and hollered at someone to their left. Theirs shouts were unintelligible and their laughter thunderous so it was hard to tell if they were being silly or bullies. The noise ceased once the vehicles moved again.

  Preparing for the plunge, Ahrisu swung her backpack around to wear it in front of her. Jwichi and his lackeys were the least of her issues at the moment.

  A man and woman, holding hands and carrying cotton eco bags filled with produce, climbed up the stairs. She sprang forward, nabbing their spot in the crowd.

  The spaciousness around her was sucked up in a few heartbeats, and she tottered forward. Outerwear were slung over shoulders or folded across arms due to the accumulated body heat. Faces and necks, especially men’s, were flushed. Ahrisu cradled her backpack and pulled her arms in to evade other people’s shoulders and arms.

  Middle-aged women, mixed Koreans who peppered their conversation with foreign words, passed by the stall for drinking water to the left.

  The vice-village chief’s back was turned, as she propped up a large jug with her knee and filled it with water. Beside her was a girl, younger than Ahrisu was and with straight, black hair flowing down her back. She held an empty pitcher.

  An older man stood by the counter and told the vice-village chief not to be stingy with the water. While she laughed a little and said she gave the exact amount he was owed, the girl made a face at the man.

  The stairs to the snack and instant foods lot was one stop away on the world’s slowest train, powered by the passengers’ legs.

  Up on the platform, older women shrieked with laughter before they covered their mouths, though that only made them laugh harder. They surrounded a young man, tall and with shoulders that reminded Ahrisu of a bird’s wingspan. With his long arms, he transferred potatoes from crates to the previously empty display bin.

  Potatoes were hard to eat unless they were sold already cooked. She could roast them herself, though she never tried before. Her flames weren’t exactly adjustable to precise temperatures.

  Before she missed her stop, she leapt across open space and landed on the stairs. She made it.

  Inhaling deeply, Ahrisu stepped into the lot and wore her backpack properly. The kids were gone, leaving this place empty while the other stalls swarmed with customers. That meant she could look around without being conscious of eyes on her, whether curious or suspicious.

  To the right was the shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman watching something on her phone. Looking warm in her flower-patterned vest, she filed her nails over a tissue.

  Towards the back were shelves of snacks and instant foods in rows. Taped to the shelves were identical color-coded charts: every two items in this section cost one yeopjeon each. After spending eight tokens so far, she could buy 24 items of food with what was left.

  Her “things to buy” list was longer, though, and Ahrisu wandered to the right, where miscellaneous items were dumped into deep bins the size of inflatable swimming pools. The sign said every item here was one yeopjeon each. She should find what she was looking for before worrying about the prices.

  Leaning over the bin, she sorted through the hodgepodge of kitchen gadgets, storage containers, toiletry, notebooks, sticker sheets, and household goods. When she was up to her elbows in keychains with small plushies and cotton pads for makeup removal, her patience neared its end.

  But she seized a drawstring bag and pulled it out from the “hole” she dug. It was dark blue and simple in design.

  If she kept her dirty clothes in here, they wouldn’t get mixed up with Dalnim and everything else in her backpack. She never cared or thought to separate her laundry until the lackeys reacted so badly to her dirty clothes.

  Ahrisu scrunched her brow in a glower before searching for her next item. It’d be easier to find—but more expensive—at one of the clothing stalls.

  Huffing, she tucked the drawstring bag under her armpit and swept items to the side to “dig” deeper on her tippy toes.

  A mountain turned into a valley. Why did people back then make so many cheap items if they weren’t going to use everything? It was more shocking she hadn’t reached the bottom, yet, and she held back the landslide of items with one arm and searched with the other.

  And struck gold. Caught between plastic strainers and stainless steel tumblers was a baseball cap. Black with a small, embroidered pink heart. She pushed out the flattened crown.

  Ahrisu wasn’t going to find better, not even at the stores in big cities that sold new items. Two tokens were worth a drawstring bag and baseball cap, as long as she used them for a long time.

  The latter replaced the one she lost while jumping a chain-link fence to flee from them. The wind just had to work against her in that moment. Since only her hoodie and windbreaker had hoods, she really needed this cap.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  With two yeopjeon used up, that left 20 food items, which couldn’t fit in her backpack. Or they could if she put half of her clothes in the drawstring bag.

  Ahrisu planned to eat one more maekbanseok gyeran to end the day, but it might be better if her growling stomach kept her up all night. Sleep was dangerous with Jwichi and his lackeys lurking around.

  Regardless, she had three or four eggs for tomorrow, plus something else. Adding about four more days’ worth of food, that was a total cost of five yeopjeon. It was best to save the rest; she didn’t know the cost of filters for her elastomeric respirator.

  Returning to the food section, she first piled four packages of instant ramyeon on the drawstring bag. It soon turned into balancing them, and she set the baseball cap on top so the crown wasn’t crumpled again.

  As nice as it would be to have an aluminum pot for cooking the noodles in, it was both a hassle to carry around and an unnecessary mess to clean up. But uncooked ramyeon with a sprinkling of the spicy powder still tasted good and, most importantly, satisfied her cravings.

  For the snacks, they were always too much and too little: too many to choose from and not very filling for long. But it was all she could afford, and it kept her alive.

  Ahrisu settled for two of her favorites: sweet and spicy tteokbokki chips that similarly helped with cravings and corn soup-flavored chips that resembled a turtle’s shell, which she liked munching on when she was bored.

  She wasn’t winning this balancing act in her arms, however, and she dropped the ramyeon and snacks in the drawstring bag. She was paying for them, anyways.

  Hanging the nylon cords off her arm, she held onto the bill of the baseball cap with the same hand and scanned the shelf against the wall. That was it for this section. Three tokens, two left.

  Ahrisu turned around. And elbowed a torso.

  She ducked her head, both in apology and from surprise. Was she that fixated on food? She didn't hear any footsteps behind her.

  But the boots were pointed towards her. Her heart was caught in her throat, and she blinked at the soles, caked with dried mud and dirt. Not rubber, but leather.

  She raised her head, then her gaze.

  A wolf-like face, which appeared boyish because of the mess of hair falling over beaming eyes. Streaks of dirt, no, soil were smudged against a strong nose and chin. The ends of his work gloves didn’t reach his wrists. Oh, the young man was a boy, likely around her age or a little older.

  “I haven’t seen you around before,” he said. “And I lived here my whole life.”

  And Ahrisu didn’t care. The people in this community were nosy, in ways strangers from big cities were not. She nudged past him and his ridiculous shoulders to check the shelves he blocked.

  Two tokens left, which meant four snacks. She pulled out a cylindrical box of roasted potato snacks, a personal favorite.

  But long fingers stretching out from a large palm snatched it from her. As her grimace deepened, the boy’s smile widened and crinkled his eyes.

  “Guess you like potatoes, huh? These are tasty. Do you want actual potatoes? Fresh from the farm. I took a lot of care in—”

  Ahrisu shifted to the side, in an attempt to cut him out of her field of vision. Nosy and a chatterbox. The worst possible combination.

  She nabbed another box of roasted potato sticks, as the busybody shuffled to stand behind her. Next, she reached for the chocolate-covered biscuit sticks, another favorite because they didn’t melt—

  An arm reached over her shoulder. She swiped the snack before he took this one, too.

  Laughing, the boy grabbed another one smoothly. “Don’t worry. I won’t steal from you a second time.”

  Yet, he couldn’t take a hint and leave her alone. Nosy, a chatterbox, and no social awareness. If he spoke one more time, she was going to leave now and buy the rest of her haul tomorrow.

  The boy shifted around again, trying to squeeze in between her and the shelf. Still smiling, he didn’t speak, as if he read her mind.

  Wait, could he—could he read minds? Someone like her existed so there were no rules saying she was the only one of her kind. What was it called, telekinesis? Was he a mind reader—

  “Since you’re staring at me so intently, you must think I’m handsome, huh?”

  Ahrisu blinked once and looked away. No, just simple-minded. And he spoke again so she peered through the space between shelves and checked that the shopkeeper was present.

  A black beanie bobbed up and down in the crowd. The ssireum wrestler cleared a path for himself beside his fellow lackey.

  With a start, she lunged backwards and hid from view.

  They really were here. She may have the better vantage point, but she couldn’t stroll around their stomping grounds.

  “Oh. You couldn’t wait for me to leave. Now I really can’t.” The boy smiled with closed lips, one corner raised.

  Because Ahrisu grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hid behind him. But that wasn’t the issue here, and she peeked past his arm for any sign of the lackeys. The arm moved away from her, however, as the boy twisted around.

  “Are you hiding from someone? Who?”

  Ahrisu tried to maneuver him to become a wall again. It wasn’t her own strength, but his compliance.

  It was okay. She was okay. If they had seen her, she would know by now. And if they did see her, they couldn’t do anything to her, anyways.

  A sharp inhale. The boy pressed his hand to his mouth. He was trying not to laugh. It was a laughable situation since she forced him to hide her without explanation. He should’ve left her alone, then . . .

  “Hey.”

  At his lighthearted tone, Ahrisu looked up, but the baseball cap slipped from her fingers. Something pressed down on her head. The boy put the cap on and adjusted the front and back. Luckily, it didn’t need any tweaks or adjustments to fit her head, wait, why was that lucky—

  “When I’m not around, wear this hat.” The corners of his lips were curled up in a small smile, and his eyes were perpetually half-open.

  Ahrisu stared for a second too long and tucked her chin against her neck. Heat, not her flames, flushed up to her cheeks. Why did he approach her . . .

  “Hey, go take a look. Are they gone?”

  Avoiding his gaze, she leaned to the side. Beanie head and ssireum guy were nowhere to be seen, and she nodded.

  “So, can you let go of me now?” he asked.

  Ahrisu did so and brushed her cheeks to make sure they weren’t on fire. But his shirt was wrinkled, the fabric stretched out. She tried to smooth it out, only to withdraw her hand because she touched him.

  “S-Sorry,” she murmured. Regardless of whether or not he heard her, she pursed her lips. She shouldn’t have grabbed him, but he was the one who bothered her in the first place. How expensive were shirts around here?

  “It’s okay. This is an old shirt I wear while working. It’s not a big deal.” The boy smoothed out the wrinkles with a few swats of his hand. The fabric stuck out, like pinching thin skin.

  Ahrisu raised her head, to check he meant it, but he tugged the bill of her cap down.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “and just avoid scary people. I’ll see you around.”

  She adjusted the hat, as the boy strolled away, waving at her. For some reason. She understood nosy people the least.

  After counting everything in the bag as a reminder, she picked out salty crackers shaped like different sea creatures. And glanced around the lot, her eyes drifting past the snacks, against her will.

  The boy smiled at the shopkeeper, who didn’t stand and nodded about something.

  Ahrisu forced her eyes back to the snacks. If she glanced at him one more time, she was going to burn all the food she bought, as punishment.

  She picked out soft-textured cookies with a light layer of chocolate. That was the last two yeopjeon covered. Checking the area, she made sure no one recognizable was around before heading to the counter.

  She bowed at the shopkeeper, who tapped her freshly filed nail on the tabletop.

  “It really is my first time seeing you around,” she commented. Her tone was of one continuing a previous conversation. A chatterbox and a blabbermouth. Ahrisu glued her mouth shut and emptied the drawstring bag.

  “No wonder,” said the shopkeeper, to no one in particular. “What a pretty face.”

  Ah, right, the baseball cap. Flinching, Ahrisu reached to take it off.

  “Leave it on,” the shopkeeper said. “I already know. The bag, too.” When she finished counting the ramyeon and snacks, Ahrisu deposited them in the drawstring bag. The shopkeeper reached under the counter and placed something before her.

  “Present.” The two snacks the boy snatched from her. And two potatoes, wrapped in a plain cloth. “Giving only one lacks affection so he left you two,” she said. “In his words, he’s showing you houi. Why he couldn’t do that himself, I don’t know.”

  And Ahrisu didn’t know why he would do her a favor, whether it was because of his own friendliness or because he thought highly of her. One made more sense than the other, but still.

  Was he pitying her? She bit her lip and added the “presents” to the bag. She did look pitiful.

  “What’s your name?” asked the shopkeeper. When Ahrisu told her, she wrote in the ledger, the cartoon bear character at the tip of the pen wobbling.

  Right above, or below, ‘Ahrisu’ was another name. Upside down, it looked like Ch, Cho . . . Cho K—She blinked and diverted her gaze. Why did she care to know his name?

  After paying and thanking the shopkeeper, who went right back to filing her nails and watching a video on her phone, Ahrisu put the drawstring bag in her backpack. When her pants’ pocket became lighter, her back grew heavier.

  About ten minutes were left in the wash cycle. The crowd decreased enough that she merged into traffic much more easily. She lowered her cap, but a shock of color caught the corner of her eye. The strawberries had an alluring effect.

  Houi. Maybe she could show her own.