The night air clung damp against Aya's skin as she crept farther from the lodge. Behind her, the building's windows glowed faintly, small squares of yellow warmth slowly swallowed by the darkness of the forest. Ahead, Chol was nothing but a moving shadow, a faint shimmer leading his path — a glow like a firefly, except steadier, more alive.
Aya stumbled again, her shoe catching on a root she barely saw in time. She hissed a quiet curse under her breath, brushing dirt from her palms. Why was she even out here? She'd tried calling to him earlier, but he was too far ahead, too absorbed in whatever he was chasing. Her voice had been eaten by the trees.
She almost turned back. Almost. But when she glanced behind her, the trail was nothing but blackness and a silence so heavy it pressed on her chest. Too quiet. Too alone. The thought of walking back through that silence made her legs stiff. So instead, she grit her teeth and pushed forward, quickening her steps.
Up ahead, Chol stopped. He crouched near a bush, something in his hands catching the faint shimmer of light. Aya finally caught up, breath a little ragged, and reached out without thinking.
"Hey—" She grabbed his shoulder.
Chol flinched, the camera in his hands tilting just as a burst of light flickered from the bush. The glow shot upward, fluttering past Aya's cheek like a spark come to life. She gasped as the shimmering shape resolved into wings — delicate, glowing, each beat scattering embers of red-gold into the night air.
A butterfly.
Chol clicked the shutter too late. The photo came out blurry, and his sigh was almost comically defeated.
"…You ruined it. That could've been perfect."
Aya blinked, still staring at the butterfly that now drifted lazily higher into the trees. "Sorry—! But you didn't answer me. What are you even doing out here?"
Chol pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his knees without looking at her. Instead, his gaze followed the glow as it floated forward, deeper into the woods. Without replying, he started walking again.
Aya scowled, falling into step behind him. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"
That made him pause. Slowly, he glanced back over his shoulder, expression unreadable.
"…Why are you still here? Are you after the fire butterfly too?"
"The what?" Aya blinked.
"The butterfly." His eyes followed its glow again, like a compass needle caught on true north. "It's called the fire butterfly. I thought maybe you were chasing it too."
Aya crossed her arms. "No. I only came out here because I saw you sneak off like some shady delinquent. And I—" she hesitated, realizing how dumb it sounded, "—I wanted to make sure you weren't, I don't know, vandalizing the vending machines or something."
Chol raised a brow, unimpressed. "Mm."
"Don't 'mm' me," Aya huffed. "You'll get in trouble if someone notices you're gone."
Chol stopped again, this time turning fully to face her. The glow of the butterfly painted faint halos across his features, softening his otherwise calm look.
"Wouldn't that be the case for you too?"
Aya faltered. "Well… yes. But still—"
"Then worry about yourself." His tone wasn't sharp, just… matter-of-fact.
Aya's brows knit together. "Excuse me?"
Chol shrugged, slipping his camera strap tighter around his shoulder as he walked on. "You said back at school that everyone knows your name, right? If you vanish, people will notice. They'll get you in trouble. Me? No one notices when I'm gone. No one really does, actually. So I'll be fine. But you? I don't know."
The words cut sharper than she expected. Aya's lips parted, ready to retort — then something bitter rose in her chest instead. She quickened her steps to his side.
"Well… I noticed you, didn't I? Doesn't that kind of debunk your little theory?"
Chol slowed, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. His eyes flicked toward her, thoughtful. For a moment, he seemed to turn the words over like a puzzle piece that didn't fit his picture. But then, quietly, he exhaled through his nose — a tiny laugh, maybe, or disbelief — and kept walking.
Aya pressed her lips together, annoyed that he hadn't given her more of a reaction. But when she looked around, her annoyance sank into unease. The trees here were thicker, their canopies blotting out even the moonlight. She hadn't realized how far they'd gone until now, when the lodge's glow was nowhere to be seen. The forest pressed close, whispering with insects, snapping with unseen things.
She swallowed hard. "We're really deep in here…"
Chol's voice came low, steady. "The nest has to be close. They don't wander far from it."
Aya blinked. "Nest? What are you even talking about—"
He cut her a sidelong glance, almost daring her to keep up. "I'm not going back yet. You can, if you want. But I'm not stopping until I find it."
Aya stopped walking. She turned, staring at the blackness of the path they'd left behind. It looked like it could swallow her whole. The thought of walking it alone sent a shiver crawling up her arms.
She bit her lip. Going back would've been the smart choice. Logical. Safe. But logic had clearly left her the moment she'd climbed out that window. And besides… something in her chest told her that walking beside Chol, no matter how odd he was, felt easier than walking away from him.
With a frustrated sigh, she shoved her hands behind her back and strode back to his side.
"Fine. Learning a thing or two about you won't kill me. And maybe it'll… help me forget some other things."
Chol didn't question it. He just gave a faint nod and returned his eyes to the glow ahead.
Side by side now, Aya and Chol followed the fire butterfly as it fluttered deeper into the night, its wings casting sparks of crimson light that led them farther into the heart of the island.
The butterfly drifted ahead of them like a lantern in the dark, sometimes gliding smoothly, sometimes pausing on the bark of a tree or the edge of a bush. Each time it landed, Chol lifted his camera and—flash. The burst of white washed out the soft glow, leaving the captured image nothing more than a smear of light.
Chol grunted, adjusting the buttons with his thumb, then crouched lower to steady his shot. Flash. Another blown-out blur. His shoulders tightened with irritation.
Aya had been watching silently at first, but after the third failed attempt she couldn't hold it in.
"You… do know how to use that thing, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Chol glanced at her defensively. "Of course I do."
She squinted at him. "Then turn the flash off. You're drowning it out."
Chol froze. "…The flash?" He fiddled with the camera again, clearly lost in the menus.
Aya stepped forward and tugged the camera out of his hands. "Give me that."
"I said I can do it," Chol muttered, reaching, but she ignored him. With practiced movements, she tapped through the settings, switched off the flash, and raised the lens toward the butterfly, which had lifted from the bush and hovered lazily midair.
"You can't take it like that, it's—" Chol started, but the shutter clicked before he could finish. Aya flipped the screen around for him to see.
The butterfly's glow sat crisp against the darkness, its wings like sheets of burning glass, every delicate vein caught in amber.
Chol blinked. "…What?"
Aya smirked. "You don't need to wait for it to sit still. Just… catch it while it's breathing."
She walked ahead, following the butterfly and snapping shot after shot. Chol lingered for a moment, then hurried after her.
Aya adjusted the focus, snapped another clean shot, then glanced sideways at him.
"…Why are you so obsessed with bugs anyway?"
Chol blinked, caught off guard. "Bugs?"
"Well, insects. Butterflies, ants—you're chasing them in the middle of the night." She lifted the screen toward him. "I mean, I'll admit this is beautiful, but… not all of them are. Ants, really?"
He let out a half-laugh and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, ants too. All of them, really. I don't… discriminate."
"That's… unusual," Aya said, narrowing her eyes in mock suspicion.
"It's not really about 'liking' them," Chol admitted, slowing his steps a little as he watched the glowing wings up ahead. His voice dropped, softer, almost thoughtful. "It's more like… I see something in them. The way they survive, the way they fit into places no one else notices. It's… familiar."
Aya tilted her head, studying him as he quickly cleared his throat. Then, almost too fast, he added, "Anyway—you're amazing with this camera. Seriously. These shots are way better than anything I've managed."
Aya gave him a little smirk. "Yeah, I know. It's not that hard once you know the settings."
"Where'd you learn?"
Aya hesitated, her finger hovering above the shutter. "…My mom. She used to work with photography. She taught me the basics."
"Oh." Chol rubbed the back of his neck. "So… maybe she could teach me sometime. What's the fee?"
Aya chuckled under her breath, but it faded quickly. "She doesn't do that anymore." Her voice had gone flatter, colder, as if the subject itself was fragile glass. She took another shot, but the smile was gone from her lips.
Chol noticed, and after a beat, he went silent too.
The butterfly veered sharply left, its glow brighter, faster. Chol lifted his head. "We're close." His voice sharpened with excitement. He broke into a jog, Aya following close behind as the forest thinned.
The darkness opened into a clearing, moonlight brushing the curve of a river. And there—above the water, across the trees, shimmering like a constellation ripped from the sky—was a swarm of them. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of glowing butterflies, pulsing together in waves of living fire.
Aya's mouth parted, her camera lowering as her eyes widened.
Chol grabbed her by the shoulder, almost shaking. "Take it—take the shot, quick!"
Snapping back into focus, Aya raised the lens. Her fingers moved fast, catching image after image, then switched to video. The butterflies moved in breathtaking rhythm, every wingbeat releasing a subtle shimmer that painted the clearing in warm light.
"They're…" Aya whispered, struggling for words.
"Fire butterflies," Chol said, his eyes alight. "They're not actually fire, but their scales refract light in a way that makes it look like they're burning. They only gather like this when they're close to their nesting season. Look—see how the glow syncs? That's communication, like a pulse. If you measure the intervals—"
He was crouching now, letting one land on his hand, his grin brighter than she'd ever seen. "They use it to guide each other through the forest. Like… living beacons."
Aya half-listened, still lost in the sight. The butterflies weren't just glowing—they were converging, flowing together toward something at the center of the clearing.
Curious, she stepped forward, brushing through the gentle tide of wings. The glow thickened, pressing close around a single hidden shape. Aya reached out her hand—
And the mass opened.
The sudden burst of light blinded her, and before she could react, the ground vanished beneath her feet. Her scream split the clearing.
"Aya!" Chol dropped the butterfly from his hand and lunged after her. The ground gave way, and he too plunged forward, his shout swallowed as the butterflies swirled shut again, sealing the clearing in firelight.