At the name, there’s a sudden influx of thought fragments from Seokga.

—Hani—miss her—gone—forever—different—Kisa—

Kisa swallows hard. Whoever Hani was, she knows she’s not…her. Not anymore. Kisa has her own answer to the Ship of Theseus problem, and it means that Seokga will forever be wishing that Kisa is somebody she’ll never be.

Before she can taste the bitterness of confused disappointment, Somi is clapping a hand to her mouth. “Oh my gods,” she whispers. “Hani, unnie? Is it really you?”

Feeling totally at a loss, Kisa shifts from foot to foot. “Er,” she says stiffly, “I was born in 1995. I think you’re older than me.” It’s the only thing she can think of to say, correcting Somi’s incorrect usage of unnie. The gumiho looks to be either in her late twenties or early thirties, but could very well be even older thanks to gumiho immortality.

“Right,” whispers Somi, still staring. “Right…”

“Seokga!” That’s the elderly woman in the rubber-duck dress. “What did I tell you! The next time you—”

“The next time I feel like attacking somebody, close my eyes and count to ten,” the god drawls, eyes never leaving Somi and Kisa. “It didn’t work, Dr. Jang.”

“You didn’t even try.”

Emperor Hwanin’s voice joins in the bedlam, but Kisa doesn’t notice. She’s watching Somi as the gumiho slowly backs away, eyes shining with…tears?

“Wait,” Kisa whispers, dozens of questions brimming on her tongue. But the other woman doesn’t listen. A moment later, she’s slipping away, weaving through the aghast guests and disappearing.

“…embarrassment,” Hwanin is hissing, and Kisa blinks, turning around to focus on the new conversation. “I don’t even know how to handle you right now.” The emperor barely spares Kisa a glance, concentrating all of his fury onto Seokga, who looks relatively unbothered.

“It was karmic,” is what the trickster replies. “You resent me delivering karmic justice? It’s a divine duty that I happen to take very seriously.”

“No,” Hwanin hisses in an undertone, “I resent that you did it in public—”

“Oh, please, you love attention. Remember those Godly Gossip exclusives you used to do about our tragic, broken relationship?” Seokga’s green eyes dart to Kisa, and something almost like a small, mischievous grin curves his lips.

Kisa doesn’t smile back, eyes flickering to the shattered glass on the floor, the crushed flowers, the mess of black feathers and curly black hair where raven-Seokga had attacked Somi. The server Seokga knocked over—a tired-eyed young woman with long, dark hair—is already on her hands and knees, collecting the shards. Nearby, Korain is futilely attempting to fix the flowers with Soo-min, the cruise director uncharacteristically sacrificing her impeccably ironed skirt to kneel on the mulch next to the haetae.

Heavy-hearted, Kisa joins the girl, crouching down to help collect the glittering shards, fingers becoming damp with spilled champagne.