Ping

The gate which blocks my way out triggers the memory of me climbing in here unlike a pro. "Dang it." I hiss, but after a short seconds of consideration, I retreat into the house in search for my pouch, my purse, my handphone charger, the power bang and the most important thing - the house key.

"I think that thing is empty," Beomgyu says as he points at my purse, which is literally held in my hand. "Check it."

Pouting with a shrug, I open the leather product to find, for real, no money inside. Not even a beautiful 10 cent coin. "Where my money go?" I utter in slight shock before catching the view of that Faerie boy's weird expression.

"I-I ate the paper inside just now, jinjja mianhae (I'm really sorry), the papers smell so good until I thought it was food..." His innocent look makes me doubt about his unsteady condition presented earlier. What if he is acting again right now?

"You gotta be kidding me!" I rant with disbelief before asking something which will trigger my high blood pressure. "What else do you eat, huh?! Eraser dust?!"

"H-how do you know that?" His big round eyes show how taken aback he is but with that, I roll my eyes, resulting in a successful rise of my blood pressure for real. "I-I'll spit the money out for you right away." Moreover, I nearly forget that there might be potential tendencies for a Faerie to solve a problem with an illogical way.

I have intended to stop this plan. But it is too late.

_____

Well, Beomgyu does spat the the money out. But he manages to reverse the time frame of the money, which means he turns them back to the original appearance before being eaten by him. Still, the scene which he forces out the money from his intestine is gross and I won't waste my time describe that here even.

Eww.

Soon, the Grab car which I call has arrived. Unlike the usual taxi in Malaysia which is painted in red, this is a silver Mercedes-Benz. "Hop on, Tiger." Upon hearing the random nickname, the Faeboy giggles with genuine happiness before jogging towards the opened car door.

"So where are you two wanna go?" the driver asks as Beomgyu closes the door with an accidentally loud thud. In a short second, he earns the driver's sideways stare before I answer the question.

"To this address, please," I say, passing a crumpled paper scribbled with my grandmother's address to the driver.

"Alright," the driver answers in a rather neutral tone after he reaches to take the paper from my fingers. As he turns back to his phone to reset his Waze, I cast a strong warning glare at Beomgyu alongside with a little understandable body languages to let him know that he should control his strength on 'human objects' as they are all vulnerable.

Resultantly, Byeomgyu's eyes are so watery and round until he looks as cute as the Puss in Boots appeared in Shrek. In a meantime, he pouts when giving my silent message a few nods. "Jinjja mianhaeyo (I'm really sorry)," he mouths without making any sound.

Somehow, I can figure out what he means, so a smile forms on my face. Since he is younger than me, this makes me want to treat him as my little brother. With the thought plastered in mind, I reach out with the intention to pat his head. But, he winces in reflex. "I'm not going to hurt you," I soothe when I continue to approach his soft hair with my small palm.

After taking a short glimpse on his rear view mirror, the Grab car driver unleashes the handbrake before beginning our short journey. The mere jerk due to the moving car doesn't affect me much as I proceed on trying to pat this Faeboy on the head. There he shuts his eyes really tightly while backing away from my approaching hand. His breath rough and unsteady until my fingertips brushes through his brown hair.

"See, I told you," I whisper to him as he reopens one eye to peek at me. His tensed muscles relax when I can no longer see his brows knit together. A tired smile reveals on his face when he finally accepts my touch. Through his beautiful eyes, I can see myself being reflected in those tiny mirrors of life.

Soon, the Grab car comes to a halt. "We're here, four ringgit if you please?" The driver asks politely with one of his hands spreaded for my bank notes. His expression is weirdly unreadable and it is hard to explain the way he looks at Beomgyu. Yet, I prefer to focus on my purse to give him the money.

"Thank you," I say, stuffing the four ringgit notes into the drivers' hand. "Let's go, Beongyu." Both of us hop off the car to face the destination. The double storey house stands boldly and silently as we take a short 6 seconds of hesitation before walking towards the door bell.

"I like that when you called me Tiger," says Beomgyu with a genuine grin. "It makes me sound more...powerful." I chuckle upon his words while resting the tip of my index finger on the round button, sending in a sort of classical music to the house.

Someone peeps by the door. "Sis!" There she calls before rushing off to search for the house key.

***

Jimin

It seems that my assumption is correct. The curse only works when I hurt her. This ritual only undergoes when it involves the both of us.

Making myself disappear to all sights, I march on my secret follow on Ping and her new pet. Honestly, that's quite clever of her to think of such ways to survive, although this Faeboy doesn't seem to be a threat for me, yet.

Moreover that, I've seen this boy before when I was little. His childhood, well, I would say it is dark as well, but not as dark as mine I suppose. Plus, I've gotton over the awful memories by now unlike him. In fact, I've already converted those experiences into my current power which helps me survive and prey all the time.

Ping's sister is surprisingly taller than her, though her looks show less maturity than Ping's. I watch as the three enters the house before leaping away from the tree branch nearby like a cat. Still in my invisible form, I manage to slip through the closing gate before it shuts completely. A gust of wind eventually forms, earning a little attention from the three of them.

As the little Faeboy standing beside her possesses a lower power ranking than me, he can't see me with his Faerie sight as well. If you are curious about the reason why I choose to follow them, I'll tell you: It is because I don't trust that little Faeboy especially when he is now following Ping everywhere.

Soon, they are asked to take their seats in the living room while Ping's sister, I suppose her name is Ying, enters the kitchen to call their grandmother and prepare water. The smell of soya sauce and spices linger through the kitchen entrance and towards the living room, making Ping's stomach growl. Yes, I can hear that. It is loud.

"Ah, Ping my dear, you're okay!!" says her grandmother in surprise when she hugs the girl tightly in her lap. "You went missing after that... disaster. We were so worried about where you had been..."

"It's alright, grandma. I've found my way here," her mesmerizing murmur soothes the old lady so well as I can see how relaxed the lady has become. Not long after, they break the embrace almost in a meantime. And then, they begin to talk about the tragedy happened to her parents, which is what I'm not that interested to lend an ear about.

Soon, I avert my attention towards the kitchen, where Ying is there to serve them water. A skipped leap of my heart alerts me all of a sudden. Yes, I can smell the scent of danger coming from the kitchen. I can smell the scent of my kind here, but it is not strong.

Ever since Ping has made that little Dust Fairy her protector, the scent of her essence doesn't turn weak as planned but become even more intoxicating instead. However, this doesn't stop me from tracking down that extra scent until I stop beside Ying, who is pouring water into glasses out of a jug. Under the shade of her bangs, I can't quite see her eyes from the side of her face. But the slight quirk of her lips shows how sharp my six sense is.

Indeed, something has possessed her, and it embraces the same or higher power ranking as mine.

ɪ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ  ᴍɪɴᴅ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʀᴀɪɴsᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴏғ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ's ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴊɪᴍɪɴ ʜᴀs ᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ.

ɪᴛ's ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀs. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴄᴇ. ᴍʏ ʜᴇʟʟɪsʜ ᴀssɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴇxᴀᴍ ɪs ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ. sᴏ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪ ᴀɴɴᴏᴜɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏғғ ᴡᴇᴇᴋs.

ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴛᴀʀ ᴛᴏ sʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴀɪʟ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ɪᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ, ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ 🎈🎈🎈