Arthur glanced at the card.
A strange sensation ran down his spine. He couldn't quite place it, but his body had tensed without him noticing, and for a moment it felt as though something had tightened around his throat, like a noose had been drawn just enough to remind him it was there. He had never felt anything like it before. The word that came to mind was fear, though even that didn't feel quite right. It was too unfamiliar, too sudden. Arthur stared at the card again, trying to find something that could explain the sensation, but there was nothing. The dimly lit stall remained exactly as it had been, with the faint smell of incense lingering in the air and the warm glow of the lantern hanging above Granny's table. Outside, the festival continued as loudly as before, the voices of vendors and visitors occasionally slipping through the thin fabric walls. Nothing had changed, yet something inside him insisted that something was wrong.
Granny slowly lifted the card.
The moment it left the table, a spark appeared from nowhere.
Arthur's eyes narrowed, but before he could even process what he had seen, the spark landed on the card and the entire thing burst into flames. The fire spread across its surface almost instantly, devouring the paper and whatever image had been hidden upon it. A thin trail of smoke curled toward the ceiling as the edges blackened and folded inward. Within seconds, the flames disappeared, leaving nothing behind except a small pile of gray ash scattered across the wooden table.
Silence settled over the stall.
It lasted only a moment, but Arthur noticed it.
Outside, the festival was still going. Music continued to play somewhere nearby, a child laughed, and a vendor shouted over the crowd as if nothing unusual had happened. Inside the stall, however, Granny remained completely still, staring at the ashes in front of her.
Her expression had changed.
The calmness she had carried throughout the reading was gone. Her eyes were slightly widened, and the hand that had been holding the card remained suspended in the air.
Why did it burn?
Her gaze moved over the ashes.
It wasn't supposed to.
She knew the cards. She knew what should happen when they were revealed. She had performed this ritual countless times, yet the card had simply burned away in her hands.
Her eyes slowly shifted toward Arthur.
Is this child's fate refusing the will?
The thought made little sense.
Is it fighting back?
Her fingers tightened.
Another possibility entered her mind, one far more unsettling than the first.
Or does his fate no longer exist?
She stared at Arthur for another second.
What could be the reason?
There had to be one. Everything had a reason. Fate had rules, and the cards followed those rules.
But this shouldn't have happened.
There is no way it could best my powers.
"Um... Granny?"
Her thoughts snapped back.
Granny looked up.
Arthur was staring at her, his head slightly tilted.
"Are you okay?"
For a moment, Granny didn't answer. Then she forced her expression back into something calmer.
"I am fine."
Arthur's eyes moved toward the ashes before returning to her face.
"You don't look fine."
The faint smile on Granny's face disappeared.
"You should leave."
Arthur frowned. "What?"
"Leave now."
"Why?"
Granny glanced toward the entrance of the stall. The colorful lights from the festival flickered across the fabric walls as people passed outside, their shadows briefly stretching across the dim interior before disappearing again.
"Because it is better for you."
Arthur looked at the ashes once more. "What happened?"
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Granny's expression tightened.
"Arthur."
Something about the way she said his name made him stop. It wasn't irritation. It wasn't anger. There was something else behind it, something far more serious.
"I am telling you to leave," she said quietly. "Before something else happens."
Se-ah looked between them, clearly confused. "Granny, what's going on?"
The old woman didn't answer her. Her eyes remained fixed on Arthur.
"Go home."
Arthur stared at her for several seconds. He wanted to ask another question, but something about her expression made him hesitate. He didn't understand what had happened, and that bothered him more than the strange prediction itself. He had entered the stall expecting tricks, vague statements, and clever manipulation. He hadn't expected the person performing the trick to look genuinely frightened.
Then Granny spoke again, her voice softer than before.
"Please."
Arthur looked at the ashes one last time.
"Fine."
He stood, the legs of the wooden chair scraping lightly against the floor. Se-ah followed him, though she continued looking back at Granny as they moved toward the entrance. Arthur lifted the curtain, and the noise of the festival immediately rushed into the stall, drowning out the quiet that had settled there.
Before leaving, Arthur glanced back.
Granny hadn't moved.
She was still staring at the ashes.
Arthur let the curtain fall.
The stall disappeared behind them.
The festival swallowed them almost immediately.
The difference between the inside of the stall and the world outside was almost jarring. The streets were packed with people, and colorful lanterns hung above the narrow roads in long rows, casting warm patches of red, yellow, and orange across the crowd. Vendors stood behind wooden counters calling out to passing customers, while smoke from grills drifted through the air and carried the smell of roasted meat, spices, and sweet food. Children ran between adults with bags of candy in their hands, and somewhere farther down the street a drummer had started playing, the deep rhythm mixing with music from several other stalls.
Everything was alive.
Everything was normal.
Arthur didn't feel normal.
He reached for Se-ah's hand.
"Come on."
She looked at him but didn't argue. He guided her through the crowd, moving between groups of people as they made their way away from the stall. A woman carrying a tray nearly bumped into Arthur before quickly apologizing, while two children rushed past them laughing loudly. The warm air from the food stalls mixed with the cooler evening breeze, and the lanterns overhead swayed slightly whenever the wind moved through the street.
Arthur glanced back.
The shaman's stall was already disappearing between the surrounding booths. Its dark fabric walls looked no different from any other stall, and the yellow lantern above its entrance continued to glow quietly.
There was no smoke.
No strange light.
No sign that anything had happened.
Arthur turned forward again.
The strange sensation remained.
It wasn't as strong as before, but it was still there, sitting somewhere beneath his ribs like an unfinished thought. He tried to dismiss it. There was nothing to act on, nothing he could see, and nothing he could prove. He had always trusted what could be observed, tested, and understood. Yet every time he tried to put what had happened into a simple explanation, he found himself returning to the same problem.
Granny's expression.
He hadn't imagined that.
"Achoo!"
Arthur looked down.
Se-ah rubbed her nose.
"You're cold?"
"A little."
Arthur stopped and removed his jacket. The evening had become noticeably cooler now that the sun had disappeared behind the buildings, and the breeze moving between the crowded streets was strong enough to make the lanterns sway overhead.
He held the jacket out.
"Here."
Se-ah looked at it, then at him.
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine."
"You'll get cold."
"Then I'll get cold."
She stared at him for a moment before taking the jacket.
"Thanks."
Arthur nodded and continued walking.
After a few seconds, Se-ah glanced back toward the stall.
"Why did we leave so quickly?"
"Granny told us to."
"I know, but why did she tell us to?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately. The image of the card burning returned to his mind, followed by Granny's expression. He could still remember the exact moment her face changed. If it had been part of the performance, she had been remarkably convincing.
"Maybe it was part of her script."
"The card burning?"
"Maybe."
Se-ah frowned. "But she looked surprised."
Arthur was quiet.
She wasn't wrong.
If it had been planned, Granny shouldn't have looked surprised. If it hadn't been planned, then there was a problem Arthur couldn't explain.
"Then maybe that was part of the script too."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't have to."
"You really think she planned all of that?"
Arthur shrugged.
"I don't know."
Se-ah looked at him.
"You don't know?"
"No."
That answer seemed to bother her more than the others.
Arthur started walking again.
"Walk faster."
"Why?"
"You're going to get cold."
Se-ah smiled slightly. "You're avoiding the question."
"It's working."
"It isn't."
She hurried to catch up with him.
The farther they moved from the center of the festival, the quieter the streets became. The colorful stalls gradually gave way to ordinary storefronts, and the music that had filled the air became softer until it was little more than a distant rhythm behind the buildings. The pavement changed from the uneven stone around the festival grounds to familiar asphalt, and the bright lanterns were replaced by ordinary streetlights hanging above the road.
Arthur knew this route well.
A convenience store stood on the corner with its bright sign glowing above the entrance. A bicycle leaned against a railing outside a small restaurant, and an elderly man sat beneath the restaurant's awning, watching the evening traffic while smoke from his cigarette drifted lazily into the air. Warm yellow light spilled from the windows of the houses they passed, and somewhere behind one of the fences a television played loudly enough for its voices to be heard from the street.
Everything was familiar.
Arthur should have relaxed.
He didn't.
A car passed them, its headlights briefly washing across the pavement before disappearing around the corner. Arthur glanced back toward the festival. The distant glow of the lanterns was still visible between the buildings.
Nothing had changed.
Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was leaving something behind.
He frowned and looked forward again.
Ridiculous.
There was nothing behind him.
Just a festival.
Just a shaman.
Just a burned card.
His hand tightened slightly around Se-ah's.
He didn't realize he'd done it until she looked down.
"Arthur?"
"What?"
"You're holding my hand really tightly."
He loosened his grip.
"Sorry."
She smiled.
"It's fine."
They continued walking.
The houses became closer together as they entered their neighborhood. A woman was watering plants outside one of the homes, and the smell of damp soil mixed with the cool evening air. A bicycle bell rang somewhere behind them before fading into the distance, followed by the sound of a car door closing.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Se-ah broke the silence.
"Hey, Arthur."
"Hm?"
"What do you think Granny meant when she said I was going to lose something I care about?"
Arthur glanced at her.
"Maybe your teddy bear."
"I don't have a teddy bear."
"You could get one."
"I'm not five."
"Then you'll have to find something else to lose."
She gave him an unimpressed look.
"That doesn't make any sense."
Arthur shrugged.
"Something you care about can mean a lot of things."
"Like?"
"Something you love. Something important to you. Maybe a memory."
Se-ah frowned.
"That could mean anything."
"Exactly."
Arthur looked ahead.
"That's why predictions like that are convenient."
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she asked, "Could it mean someone?"
Arthur's steps slowed slightly.
Someone.
He glanced at Se-ah.
She was watching him, waiting for an answer.
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
Arthur looked away.
"Let's not think about it for now."
Se-ah studied his face for another second before nodding.
"Okay."
They continued toward home.
The festival's glow had disappeared completely behind the buildings now. Only the ordinary streetlights remained, casting pale circles of light across the pavement. Their footsteps echoed softly along the quiet road.
Arthur didn't look back again.
But the feeling from the stall followed him all the way home.
A few minutes later, they reached their house.
The small porch light above the entrance was already on, casting a warm glow over the front steps. A pair of shoes sat near the door, and a few dry leaves had collected along the edge of the walkway.
Arthur rang the bell.
A moment later, the door opened.
His mother stood there, looking at them with a mixture of relief and mild annoyance.
"You guys are awfully late."
She stepped aside to let them in.
"Did you have fun? How was the festival?"
"It was okay," Arthur said.
"Yep! It was super-duper fun!" Se-ah immediately began, already removing her shoes. "We saw so many stalls, and there was so much food, and we ate candy, and then we visited a shaman and she—"
Arthur quietly moved past them.
His mother looked after him.
"Arthur."
He stopped halfway up the stairs.
"You're not going to tell me anything?"
"I wasn't the one having fun."
Se-ah gasped from the entrance.
"I had plenty of fun!"
Arthur ignored her.
His mother shook her head with a small smile.
"Go get changed. Dinner will be ready soon."
"Okay."
Arthur continued upstairs.
The smell of dinner drifted through the house as he walked down the hallway. Rice, fried food, and the faint sweetness of a sauce his mother had probably prepared filled the air. Se-ah's voice remained loud downstairs as she explained the festival to their mother, adding more details every few seconds.
Arthur entered his room and closed the door.
The noise became muffled.
His room was dim except for the orange light coming through the curtains from the street outside. His desk sat beside the window, a few books stacked unevenly on top of it. His school bag rested against the wall where he'd left it that morning, and a jacket hung from the back of his chair.
Everything was normal.
Arthur pulled off his shirt and dropped onto his bed.
He stared at the ceiling.
The strange feeling from the festival should have disappeared by now.
It hadn't.
His eyes drifted toward the window.
Outside, the neighborhood continued its usual evening routine. A car passed on the road, its tires making a soft hiss against the pavement. Someone called to a child from across the street, and somewhere farther away a dog barked once before going quiet.
Arthur closed his eyes.
The card returned to his thoughts.
The spark.
The flame.
The ash.
Then Granny's expression.
He opened his eyes again.
Maybe the card had been treated with something. Maybe there had been a hidden mechanism. Maybe the spark had come from somewhere nearby.
There were possibilities.
But none of them explained Granny's reaction.
Arthur stared at the ceiling for several more minutes.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
He closed his eyes.
His breathing slowed.
And he fell asleep.
"Big bro..."
Arthur didn't move.
"Mom's calling you."
Nothing.
Se-ah leaned closer.
"Hmm... Mom? Big bro's asleep."
From downstairs, their mother called back.
"Then let him rest, sweetie. Do you want some apples?"
"Huuh? Yeah! I'm coming!"
Her footsteps disappeared down the hallway.
The house settled into silence.
Outside, the neighborhood continued beneath the night sky, unaware of the strange event that had taken place at the festival.
Arthur slept through it.
Morning sunlight slipped through the curtains and spread across Arthur's room.
He opened his eyes slowly.
For a few seconds, he simply lay there, listening to the sounds of the house waking around him.
Footsteps moved quickly through the hallway.
A door opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
His mother's voice followed, low and tense as she spoke into a phone.
Arthur sat up.
The hurried movement continued outside.
He got out of bed and walked toward Se-ah's room.
She was lying beneath her blanket, her face flushed and her hair scattered across the pillow. The energetic girl who had spent the previous evening running between festival stalls looked completely different now.
Arthur leaned against the doorframe.
"Told you."
Se-ah opened one eye.
"Shut up."
Arthur nodded.
"I told you to wear something warmer."
"Shut... up."
He left before she could say anything else.
Downstairs, his mother was still on the phone. The smell of breakfast filled the kitchen, but she barely seemed to notice it. Her attention remained fixed on the conversation.
Arthur grabbed his bag.
"I'll get ready and go to class."
His mother looked at him.
"Okay."
"Take care of her."
She smiled faintly.
"I will."
Arthur put on his shoes.
"Thanks."
He opened the door and stepped outside.
The cool morning air brushed against his face.
The neighborhood looked completely different beneath the morning sun.
Shopkeepers were raising metal shutters along the main road, the scraping sound echoing between the buildings. Buses rumbled past crowded stops, while students in uniforms walked toward school in groups, some talking loudly and others still half-asleep. A bakery farther down the street had already opened, and the smell of fresh bread drifted through the cool air.
A delivery truck was parked outside a convenience store with its rear doors open. A worker carried boxes inside while another checked a clipboard. Near the sidewalk, an elderly woman swept yesterday's dirt and leaves into a small pile.
Arthur walked through the middle of it all with his hands in his pockets.
It was an ordinary morning.
He knew this road well.
He knew where the traffic usually became heavy and which shops opened earliest. He knew which corner students gathered around before school and where stray cats usually slept beneath the parked cars.
He wasn't thinking about any of that.
"Arthur!"
He turned.
Jae-ho came jogging toward him, his backpack hanging from one shoulder.
"Wassup!"
Arthur looked at him.
"I told you. Just because I lived in the States doesn't mean you have to keep proving how good your English is."
Jae-ho grinned.
"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, did you do the homework?"
"Yep."
"Sweet. Give it."
Arthur sighed and reached into his bag.
"Here."
Jae-ho took the notebook immediately and opened it while they walked.
Arthur glanced at him.
"I have to ask you something. How do you intend to study if you're just going to copy mine?"
Jae-ho shrugged.
"I don't really understand the classes."
"Then study."
"I do."
"When?"
"During those quick sessions you do with the group."
Arthur looked at him.
"Wait. You mean the only time you study is when we study for exams?"
"Pretty much."
"Why?"
Jae-ho shrugged again.
"Everyone in the group does it. Think about it. The things you point out always come in the exam, so do we really need to study that much?"
Arthur frowned.
"Knowledge isn't just for exams. It's for yourself. If you only study when there's a test coming, you're not really learning anything."
Jae-ho looked at him for a moment before laughing.
"You sound like a teacher."
"I'm serious."
"Yeah, yeah."
Jae-ho shoved the homework into his bag.
"I'll study eventually."
"You've been saying that for months."
"And eventually will come."
Arthur stared at him.
Jae-ho grinned.
"See? Problem solved."
Arthur shook his head slightly and kept walking.
Their conversation blended into the sounds of the morning around them. Cars passed through the intersection, bicycles rolled along the side of the road, and groups of students crossed whenever the traffic light changed. A bus pulled away from the curb with a low rumble, leaving behind the smell of exhaust.
Then Jae-ho glanced around.
"Wait. Where's your sister?"
"She isn't coming."
Jae-ho smirked.
"Don't tell me she finally doesn't want to be seen walking with her big bro anymore."
"No."
Arthur continued walking.
"She's sick."
The smile disappeared from Jae-ho's face.
"Oh."
He looked at Arthur.
"Is she okay?"
"She'll be fine."
Jae-ho nodded.
"Good."
They walked for another minute.
Arthur's attention slowly drifted away from the conversation.
Something caught his eye.
The trees.
He slowed slightly.
The row of trees along the sidewalk usually had birds moving through their branches during the morning. He had seen them countless times without ever paying much attention. Small birds hopping from branch to branch, disappearing into the leaves and returning a few seconds later.
Today, the branches were empty.
Arthur looked farther down the road.
Usually there were stray dogs around this area, especially near the restaurants and convenience stores where they could find food.
Nothing.
He glanced beneath the parked cars.
Nothing.
The traffic seemed lighter too.
Not enough to be obvious.
Just enough to feel different.
Arthur looked around.
The road was still busy. Students still walked toward school. Shops were opening. Cars continued passing.
Nothing was visibly wrong.
Yet the familiar street felt strangely incomplete.
"Jae-ho."
"Hm?"
"Don't you think there are fewer animals around?"
Jae-ho looked at him.
"Animals?"
"Yeah."
Arthur nodded toward the trees.
"Usually there are birds there."
Jae-ho followed his gaze.
He shrugged.
"Not really."
Arthur looked toward the sidewalk again.
"No dogs either."
"So?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately.
The morning sunlight reflected off the windows of the buildings, and somewhere nearby a shopkeeper laughed with a customer. A bicycle bell rang behind them. Everything sounded normal.
But when Arthur listened more carefully, something was missing beneath all of it.
He couldn't immediately identify what.
Then he realized.
The birds.
The dogs.
The small sounds he had never noticed because they had always been there.
"I get this feeling something's wrong."
Jae-ho looked at him.
"You're watching too many movies, man."
"No."
Arthur kept walking.
The word came out more firmly than he intended.
He glanced toward the trees again.
Nothing moved.
"You don't see it?"
"See what?"
Arthur hesitated.
Then he remembered yesterday.
The festival.
The stall.
The card.
The fire.
Granny's face.
"Yesterday, I went to the shaman at the festival."
Jae-ho immediately laughed.
"Wait, seriously?"
Arthur ignored him and continued walking.
He explained what had happened, starting with the cards and Granny's predictions before reaching the final card. He told him how it had burned the moment Granny lifted it and how her expression had changed afterward. He explained that she had told them to leave before something else happened.
Jae-ho listened.
By the time Arthur finished, the school buildings were already visible in the distance.
Jae-ho stared at him.
"So the oh-so-genius Arthur finally believes in shamanism?"
Arthur looked at him.
"Did you even listen to what I said?"
"Yeah."
Jae-ho scratched his head.
"Looks like they found an equation for ghosts or something."
He laughed.
Arthur stared at him.
"Funny?"
Jae-ho's grin faded.
"...Not really."
They continued walking.
The school entrance grew closer as more students gathered around the gates. A teacher stood near the entrance, checking students as they arrived. The sound of conversations grew louder as they approached, mixing with the distant rumble of traffic.
Everything looked normal.
Arthur glanced toward the trees one last time.
The morning breeze moved through the branches.
The leaves rustled softly.
But there were no birds.
No barking came from the nearby streets.
No movement came from beneath the parked cars.
Only the ordinary sounds of the city remained.
Jae-ho shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Come on. We're going to be late."
Arthur followed him toward the school.
Neither of them noticed the empty branches above their heads.
End of Chapter 2.