The sun had already set by the time they stepped out of the green building.
The sky over the eastern edge of the city had gone a deep purple, and the lanterns along the street were glowing bright. Behind them, through the open doors, the music and the noise of the hall were still going strong. Somebody inside was singing about a girl who left for Busan and never came back, and half the room was singing along, badly.
Kyung-min and Hyunwoo walked out with their shoulders slumped and their hands in their pockets.
Neither of them said anything for a whole block.
"We were so close," Kyung-min finally muttered.
"We weren't close," Hyunwoo said. "We were never close. She was playing with us the whole time."
"We were close for nine hands."
"Nine hands before she showed up."
Kyung-min groaned and kicked a pebble down the street. It skittered off the curb and into a gutter.
Jin walked beside them, watching. He tried not to laugh. He really did.
