“She fixed me up, too,” Hajun says, and Seokga feels a peculiar jolt of shame at his subtle scrutiny being not so subtle, after all. The idol smiles, though, as if recalling something pleasant rather than awful as they walk through the cruise’s throngs. “Kisa is wonderful. I was scared as shit when I got here, but she’s helped me in so many ways.” He shrugs, adjusting his grip on Hwanin. “I think if I’d met her while we were alive, maybe our stories would have turned out differently. Maybe they wouldn’t have ended so soon. She’s a good friend.”

Seokga takes a small sip of coffee to settle his stomach. “Kisa said,” he manages after a moment, “that she fell off a roof…”

Hajun’s smile slips. “Is that all she told you?” he asks quietly.

A cold shiver of foreboding slithers down Seokga’s spine, and he grips his cane tight. “It is,” he manages. Hajun’s eyes are sad. “Why?” snaps Seokga, fear like a vise around his heart. He can’t mean…

The idol hesitates as they reach the chaos of Deck 9. No longer indoors, the deck is open-air, covered in a mess of glittering pools and spiraling waterslides. A live band plays festive music in the corner, and the air smells of a strange mix of Seocheongang River and lemonade. Guests splash in the pools, leaping into their depths or flying through the air from the slides. With an expression of supreme distaste, Seokga sidesteps a throng of giggling women who eye him with more than a little interest. Below, the Seocheongang River churns and flows, blood red as the ship cuts through it.

“Kisa and I might have more in common than you think,” Hajun finally says, heading toward one of the stairwells connecting it to Deck 10—the stairwell where Seokga found his brother’s corpse. It will be gone by now, unable to remain present in a world where the baby form also exists.

“She told you this?” He’s struggling to accept this. He won’t. He can’t. Seokga will not accept that Kisa felt so alone, so…