The Place She Has to Go

I walked slowly beside him, drawing a square in the air with my finger.

As a child, I used to read countless sentences that filled a square just like that.

“There was a book with a character who had the same name as me, and maybe because of that, I think I always vaguely felt like I had to be heading somewhere.”

That vague feeling still sometimes sweeps over me, as if it’s taking possession of me.

I had to find “something,” or “someone.”

Or I had to arrive “somewhere.”

That destination wasn’t where I was now.

It was only a hazy conviction, but it always seemed to pull me toward the other side.

Maybe this isn’t where I’m supposed to be….

As if to make me feel that I don’t belong here, a faint sense of floating detachment crept in.

As I absentmindedly traced the shape of the room in midair, Hyeon Jaeyul suddenly grabbed my hand.

A large hand completely enveloped mine.

Pulled out of my drifting memories by that firm grip, I came back to myself.

It felt like I’d wandered through a dream for a moment.

Hyeon Jaeyul didn’t look good.

His face was still expressionless, but his eyes wavered with unease.

He didn’t look at my face, only stared at the hand he was holding.

“Are you okay?”

Tilting my head, I met his gaze as I asked.

His eyes, which had been lowered, flicked upward when I leaned in to meet them.

Hyeon Jaeyul shook his head as if it were nothing, but the grip on my hand tightened slightly.

My mind, which had felt like it was floating, was pulled back down to the ground by that strength.

Leaving that vague, distant feeling behind in the air.

A large jar filled with candy, a child’s handkerchief, a yellow balloon drifting through the air.

Hyeon Jaeyul recalled memories that surfaced sporadically into his consciousness.

They were all memories related to Go Doya.

Hyeon Jaeyul had lived with Doya since childhood.

That was when he was eleven years old.

The first time he saw Go Doya, she was smaller than other children her age, and strange in her own way.

“I’m going.”

That was what she’d said the first time they met.

It wasn’t an introduction, nor a greeting.

She just kept saying she had to go.

Perhaps because of her white hair, Doya looked like a snowman made in winter to Hyeon Jaeyul.

A child who seemed like she might melt away at any moment.

With a yellow balloon tied to her wrist, Go Doya had appeared holding a candy jar almost as big as her own body.

Hugging the jar to her chest, she blinked her golden eyes and spoke.

“I have to go.”

There was no sadness on the face of Go Doya, who had lost both parents to a rift.

She merely murmured with an unchildlike firmness, her clear golden eyes shining.

He remembered the troubled look on his parents’ faces.

They must have thought it was just a child’s tantrum, saying she wanted to go see parents she had already lost.

But Hyeon Jaeyul knew.

It wasn’t a tantrum.

Go Doya had a place she had to go.

That place wasn’t the rift where her parents had disappeared.

It wasn’t the house she used to live in, nor the house where she was now staying with Hyeon Jaeyul.

It was probably somewhere his hands could never reach.

He knew that if Doya headed there, he would never be able to reach her.

He would become powerless forever.

He fed her one of the sweet candies she’d been clutching to the lips that kept repeating the same words like a broken doll, and then quietly sat beside her, holding her hand the entire time as she nodded off.

Back then, Hyeon Jaeyul thought that if he let go, Go Doya would disappear.

Thankfully, that premonition didn’t come true, and Doya didn’t vanish.

But Doya’s strangeness lingered for a long time.

She didn’t run around and play like other kids her age, nor did she ever raise her voice.

She would stare at empty space all day long.

Like a finely crafted doll, she often sat alone on the bench in front of the house.

Around the time she started going back to school, Go Doya drew enormous attention from the very first day.

Bright-colored hair, bright eyes.

Her appearance was more than enough to win over both children and adults.

“Teacher, when we change seats next time, who’s sitting next to Doya? Can I sit there?”

“Doya, if you’re not feeling well, tell me anytime.”

“Doya.”

“Doya.”

The sound of people calling her name never stopped.

Everyone was desperate to accommodate her.

Go Doya would quietly look up at them and occasionally curve her eyes into a soft smile.

Just to see that smile, people treated her kindly.

But it didn’t seem like there was anyone she truly gave her heart to.

She’d respond if spoken to, but that was it.

It was extremely rare for Go Doya to approach others first.

And yet, sometimes, she would quietly look at Hyeon Jaeyul and then plop down beside him.

Every time that happened, Hyeon Jaeyul felt something like a quiet swell of pride rise in his chest.

She never did that with other children.

Only in front of Hyeon Jaeyul.

Only in front of him.

Go Doya began to live a properly social life three years after she started living in Hyeon Jaeyul’s house.

It was around the time she finished all the candies she used to eat one by one.

The child who had once been so strange began acting as if she had forgotten all her previous memories once she turned twelve.

She no longer muttered about having to go somewhere, nor did she stare blankly into the air.

And around that time, Go Doya’s ability manifested, alongside Hyeon Jaeyul’s.

No one knew whether the ability came first, or whether her change did.

It might have been active even before then.

Mental-type abilities were like that.

Hyeon Jaeyul was physical enhancement-type.

Go Doya was mental-type.

Hyeon Jaeyul always went with Go Doya to the Hunter Association’s ability control program.

It was around the time Doya began communicating properly with others, and they grew even closer.

Once she began speaking properly, Go Doya was, put kindly, confident.

Put unkindly, she was willful.

Hyeon Jaeyul was always getting dragged along by her, but not once did it bother him.

He simply liked being swayed by Go Doya.

“My bag is heavy.”

“Give it here. I’ll carry it.”

“My legs hurt too.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Mm.”

“Jaeyul, you shouldn’t do everything just because Doya asks.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t keep doing everything for her forever.”

“I will. I’m going to stay by Doya’s side, so I can do it for her.”

Whether it was asking to be held, having her bag carried, or making him eat food she didn’t like.

Even when adults told him not to indulge her, he ignored them.

It made him happy, feeling like he’d become part of her.

Hyeon Jaeyul was the first to realize that the child’s hearing was abnormally sharp.

After finishing an ability control program and heading home, Go Doya had tiptoed up and whispered into his ear like she was sharing a secret.

“My ears are actually really good. I can even hear your heartbeat.”

Never in his short life had Hyeon Jaeyul been so flustered.

That meant she’d heard every pounding heartbeat he’d had around her.

Even the sound of his heart racing whenever she quietly came over and sat beside him.

Seeing Hyeon Jaeyul freeze mid-breath, Go Doya laughed with a clear, ringing sound.

Hearing her laugh for the first time, Hyeon Jaeyul found himself thinking that it didn’t matter if she’d found out he liked her.

Up until then, all of Go Doya’s firsts had belonged to Hyeon Jaeyul.

The first time she approached someone first.

The first person she shared a secret with.

The first person to hear her laugh.

All of it had been his.

He vaguely believed that every new side of Go Doya he would see in the future would also be his first.

It was an arrogant misconception.

Because of their differing ability types, Go Doya was assigned to a different program, and some boy started sticking to her.

A few years later, Hyeon Jaeyul saw that boy kissing Go Doya.

His chest burned black.

When he saw the boy covering Doya’s ears as he kissed her,

when he saw him pull Doya tightly into his arms,

and when that boy curled his lips up at Hyeon Jaeyul,

Hyeon Jaeyul’s ability advanced by another stage.

The time he was registered as an S-rank hunter was right after that incident.

The anxiety and jealousy he’d felt upon realizing that not all of Go Doya’s firsts belonged to him anymore were still vivid.

He couldn’t let go of her hand.

No matter what, he had to stay by her side.

From that moment until now, whenever Hyeon Jaeyul remembered it, he became powerless.

Powerless, and blackened.

Lost in memories of the past, Hyeon Jaeyul returned to reality at Go Doya’s call.

“Are you okay?”

Seeing Hyeon Jaeyul deep in thought, Go Doya asked while meeting his gaze, her expression puzzled.

Hyeon Jaeyul shook his head, gripping the small hand more tightly.

The simulation was over, but Go Doya still hadn’t recovered her memories.

She seemed to have no memory of the boy she’d shared her first kiss with.

From the Doya who hadn’t regained her memories, he didn’t feel that floating detachment he’d sensed long ago.

Adjusting his grip on her hand, he hoped her memories would never return.

‘Don’t go, Doya.’

He could only wish, unable to say the words he wanted to say to her most.

‘You can’t go.’

The Hunter Association’s primary role was hunter management, but it also handled identifying rifts and various supernatural phenomena, assessing their threat levels, and assigning hunters tasks appropriate to those levels.

Because of that, perhaps, they contacted us while we were resting after the simulation, asking if we’d handle a supernatural phenomenon if we were up for it.

My rank was B, but since everyone currently on the team was S-rank…

“They told us to rest until the next simulation starts….”

“Sorry. It’s because of my ability. I get pulled into large-scale supernatural incidents a lot.”

“No, I’m not blaming you.”