In hindsight, his joy is humiliating. As is his happy-go-lucky phone call to Jang. How dare she have witnessed him cheerful? He’s been working hard to compensate for it ever since by being exceptionally miserable. And it’s easy to do.

If Hani is anywhere on this world, he should be able to find her.

Why can’t he find her?

“It kept yanking down,” Seokga now explains to Dr. Jang, who nods in sympathy. “Antarctica is…down. But there was nothing there except for penguins and fish and ice.” His lip curls. He’d hated the foul, squawking things, but Hani would have loved the penguins. She would have thought they were adorable, and probably would have named each and every one something ridiculous. A familiar ache lodges itself in his chest, and Seokga takes a hasty slug of Creature Café coffee.

He wonders if Hani’s reincarnation—wherever she, or he, is—would name the penguins, too. It’s fine if they wouldn’t, he tells himself. It’s fine if they’re different from who they were in their past life, his Hani, his love. It’s fine. It’s fine. Seokga can’t, and won’t, expect Kim Hani to be as she once was at the other end of the thread.

But you want her to be there, a cold little voice whispers back to him. Waiting for you. The woman from the nineties. The mischievous gumiho. You don’t want anyone else.

Seokga swallows hard and stares at Jang’s desk as he shoves those bitter doubts away. He won’t let himself think about it. Not until he finds Hani. Not until he finds her. All he wants to do is find her—

Dr. Jang leans forward across the polished wooden surface, face serious. “Seokga,” she says, and he’s half-terrified she’ll try to reach for his hand or otherwise comfort him. He has developed a serious aversion to comfort. The one time that Hwanin tried to hug him after a frustrating trip to Australia that yielded nothing, Seokga had nearly jumped out of his skin.

“What are you doing?” he’d hissed at Hwanin.

His brother had made a noise of disbelief. “I was going to hug you—”

“Do it slower next time, then,” Seokga replied, hastily backing away. “I thought you were going to murder me.”

“That’s my line, brother, not yours,” Hwanin replied, lips quirking.

Seokga doesn’t want pity. He just wants Hani.

But Dr. Jang doesn’t reach for him. Instead, she regards him somberly. “You’re burning yourself out. You’re exhausted, and I am seriously concerned about what will happen to you if you keep working yourself like this.”