Minsu's heart skipped a beat when she saw him standing there, his figure half-illuminated by the dim light that filtered through the cracked windows. Kim Hyowon. The tea shop owner who had piqued her curiosity ever since their encounter earlier in the village. His calm demeanor was both reassuring and unsettling, as if he knew more than he was willing to share.
"Hyowon-ssi?" Minsu's voice was soft, uncertain, but she couldn't keep the questions from tumbling out. "What are you doing here?"
He didn't immediately respond. His eyes, usually warm and friendly at the tea shop, now seemed distant and unreadable. For a moment, the silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.
Finally, he stepped forward, the soft creak of his shoes on the wooden floor the only sound in the heavy stillness. "I could ask you the same thing," he said, his voice low and steady. "But I'm guessing you already know."
Minsu frowned, confusion clouding her thoughts. She didn't understand what he meant. "Know what?"
He gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "This house. Your aunt. You've already figured out some of it, haven't you?"
Minsu's stomach churned as his words sunk in. "You know about my aunt? About her disappearance?"
Hyowon nodded, though his expression remained unreadable. "I've been involved in this for a long time. Longer than you might think."
Minsu's mind raced. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She needed to know. Needed to understand.
"You were with her?" Minsu asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You were the one who... sent her away?"
Hyowon's gaze flickered toward the journal in her hands. His expression shifted, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this," he muttered, almost to himself. "She wasn't supposed to get involved, but once she did... there was no turning back."
Minsu's pulse quickened. "What was she involved in? What are you involved in?"
Hyowon's gaze became distant again. "I'm afraid it's not something you can walk away from. Not once you've seen what's been hidden."
Minsu's heart raced, her mind struggling to make sense of everything. "So, you knew all along? You knew she was in danger, and you didn't stop her?"
Hyowon's jaw tightened as if struggling with the weight of his words. "I couldn't. There are forces at work here, ones beyond our control. Your aunt had the courage to seek the truth, but she also... awakened something. Something that should have stayed buried."
Minsu's stomach tightened. She could hardly breathe. "And now, what? Is she... dead?"
Hyowon didn't answer right away, but the look in his eyes told her more than words could.
"Tell me everything," Minsu demanded, her voice firmer now despite the fear creeping in. "What happened to my aunt? What is this place?"
Hyowon's expression hardened, and his eyes flickered as though weighing whether to continue. "Your aunt uncovered the truth about this village. She found out about the ancient rituals, the ones hidden from outsiders. The ones that kept the village in balance. And she got too close. There were... consequences."
Minsu's mind was reeling as the pieces started to fit together. Her aunt had uncovered something, something dangerous, and now Minsu was standing in the middle of it all, trying to find answers.
"You could have stopped her," Minsu said, anger and fear lacing her words. "You could have told her to leave, to stay away."
Hyowon's gaze softened slightly. "I tried. But your aunt was stubborn. She wanted to uncover the truth. And once she did, she sealed her fate."
Minsu's breath hitched. "So she's gone. There's no saving her?"
Hyowon shook his head. "Not gone. But trapped. And it's not just her. There's more at play here than you realize."
Minsu clenched her fists. "What do you mean? What's happening?"
Hyowon looked around the room as if searching for something. "This place, your aunt, everything—it's all part of a larger plan. A plan that's been in motion for a long time."
Minsu's head was spinning, but she steadied herself. "Tell me everything. I need to know. I need to find out what happened to her."
Hyowon hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I'll tell you what I know. But understand, once you step into this, there's no turning back. The truth isn't something you can unlearn."
Minsu swallowed hard, her mind racing with the weight of Hyowon's words. She had come here looking for answers about her aunt, but now it seemed like she was stepping into something far deeper, something she wasn't sure she was ready for. But there was no turning back now. She needed to know.
"I'm ready," she said, her voice steady despite the unease gnawing at her stomach.
Hyowon nodded, his expression unreadable. He turned and walked toward the window, staring out into the courtyard. For a long moment, he was silent, as if gathering his thoughts. Minsu stood still, waiting for him to speak.
"The rituals in this village have been going on for centuries," he began, his voice low. "They're meant to keep balance—between the living and the dead, the human and the spirit. It's an ancient practice, something passed down through generations, kept hidden from outsiders."
Minsu listened closely, her heart pounding in her chest. "Your aunt found out about it, and that's why she disappeared?"
Hyowon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She wasn't supposed to uncover the truth. The rituals... they're not something anyone should disturb. But she was curious, and once she started digging, she became a target. The village's elders... they don't take kindly to outsiders meddling in their affairs. Your aunt learned too much."
A chill ran down Minsu's spine. "What did she learn?"
Hyowon's eyes met hers, and for the first time, Minsu saw a flicker of regret. "She learned about the boundary that exists between the living world and the spirit realm. The rituals... they're meant to keep the dead from crossing over. But the more the villagers perform them, the weaker the boundary becomes. The spirits... they grow restless."
Minsu felt a shiver of fear. "Is that why things feel off around here? Why the village seems... different?"
Hyowon nodded slowly. "Exactly. And your aunt was close to discovering the final piece of the puzzle. That's when things started to spiral. She became too much of a threat. That's why she had to be stopped."
Minsu's thoughts were racing. "You said she wasn't gone. What do you mean by that?"
Hyowon's gaze darkened, and he stepped closer to her. "Her soul isn't at peace. The spirits are holding her... somewhere. Trapped in the limbo between worlds. And if the rituals aren't completed, if the boundary isn't repaired, she'll remain there forever. She won't be the only one."
Minsu felt a knot form in her stomach. "What can we do to save her?"
Hyowon hesitated for a moment before speaking. "The only way to fix this is to complete the ritual she started. But it won't be easy. The spirits... they won't let us do it without resistance. And there's more at stake than just her soul. If we fail, the spirits could break through completely, and the village will be lost."
Minsu's heart raced. "How do we even begin? I don't know anything about these rituals."
Hyowon gave her a faint smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You don't have to do it alone. But you'll need to trust me."
Minsu nodded slowly, her mind spinning. Trusting him seemed like the only option, but a part of her still wondered how much of the truth he was hiding. Still, she didn't have much of a choice.
"I'll do whatever it takes," she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her.
Hyowon looked at her with something akin to approval. "Then we begin tonight."
Minsu could feel her pulse quicken as she left Hyowon's house, the weight of the decision sinking in. She had just agreed to help complete a ritual she barely understood, to save her aunt—and the village—from something she didn't fully comprehend. The mystery surrounding the village, her aunt's disappearance, and Hyowon's role in all of it felt like a puzzle with pieces that didn't quite fit.
But as night approached and the shadows grew longer, one thing was clear: the time for questions was running out. The ritual was the only way forward.