Jin walked over slowly.
His ribs were still knitting. His left arm hung heavy and numb at his side, and every step sent a dull ache up through his skull where the empty-handed Talchum had driven its nail. He didn't hurry. He wasn't sure Ho-seok wanted him there at all.
Up and down the river road, people were starting to move again. Spades's copies were helping the wounded up off the stones. Ga-eun had Clubs's good arm over her shoulders and was half carrying her toward the edge of the road, Clubs swearing the whole way. Kyung-min stood at the back with Yuna, both of them watching, neither of them coming closer. Nobody came closer. It was like the whole street had agreed, without saying anything, to leave the two of them alone.
Ho-seok was still sitting where he'd dropped, in the middle of the road. He was looking at his right hand. It was red all the way to the wrist, and the blood had started to go dark and sticky in the cold air.
