Page 66 of Vicious Spirits

Miyoung closed her eyes, waited for that whisper of a voice. Waited to see if she could call Yena forth when she wanted. But there was nothing but the whisper of wind through the trees.

“Please, if you’re here, help me find him.” Her voice trembled.

There was a rustle of sound and her eyes shifted, half expecting a spectral Yena to step out of the foliage. Instead a small rabbit scurried through the underbrush, and Miyoung laughed in embarrassment. The sound faded, but in its place she heard a soft huffing.

Her ears perked. Miyoung might not have super gumiho hearing anymore, but she recognized that sound. The sound of crying.

She stepped slowly around the maehwa tree and let out a breath of relief.

“Jihoon,” she said. “I found you.”

He was slumped against the tree, his knees hugged close to his chest. He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes.

“Miyoung-ah?” Her name came out like a hoarse question.

“What are you doing out here?” She bent down beside him.

“I can’t—I can’t—” Jihoon pressed his hands against his temples. “My head. It hurts.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t sleep. I keep waking up like I’m having nightmares, but I can’t remember them.” Bags sat under his eyes as physical proof of his sleepless nights.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No, no more doctors. I just... I need you. I have such a need for you.” He grabbed her shoulders, fingers digging into her cuts, making them sting, but she didn’t pull away.

“I’m here,” she said. “I’m always here for you.”

Jihoon squeezed his eyes shut. Miyoung wrapped him in her arms, and she could feel his whole body trembling, like a live wire. And she realized he was the source of the humming. Like every cell of his body was vibrating so fast that it let off a buzz.

“It hurts,” he mumbled. “Fighting hurts.”

“What are you fighting?” Miyoung asked. She could taste his gi even though she wasn’t trying to. It was too bright, too sharp. How long had he been out here?

“I can’t fall asleep again. If I do... bad things wait for me there.”

His words were an eerie echo of Miyoung’s. In her dreams, Yena waited with her frightening proclamations and accusations.

“What waits for you in your dreams?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t like it when I fight. She wants control,” Jihoon moaned.

Now Miyoung pulled back and saw that Jihoon had started quietly sobbing. “Don’t let her. Don’t let her take me!”

“Who?” Miyoung asked as fear sliced through her.Yena?But she didn’t dare ask the question aloud. What was her mother doing?

“No! I don’t want to!” Jihoon shouted, fisting his hands in his hair and jerking his head back and forth.

“Jihoon-ah, stop it.” Miyoung tried to stop him; she was afraid he’d rip out his own hair at this rate.

He slumped into her, his face pressing into her throat.

“Hold on to me,” he said, his lips moving against her skin. “I’m so tired. I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“What do you need from me?” Miyoung asked, desperately holding him close. “Tell me.”

“Don’t let me go.”