Archive of Our Own

The sky spread over us, signaling we had finally escaped the ghost story we had spent the last few hours in.

My heart raced, still trapped in the endless pursuit from ghostly guards. Today’s rescue had been in a memory museum. As long as you paid an entry fee with one of your memories, there was no issue, but the odd artifacts it was filled with had a tendency to captivate the visitors, leading them to stay trapped until they died from starvation or went missing. The rooms assigned to me had themes for objects belonging to ’heavenly creatures’. Even as I did my best not to look at any of them, I caught glimpses of torn feathers and curved shadows.

Everything had gone well until I found a citizen standing in front of a large display case. She looked human, but there had been feathers sticking out of her top. I recognised the type of contamination. Seeing the size of the bulge on her back, it wasn’t too late to remove it yet. When I called her, she’d shifted, revealing the case content—

Beautiful light warm brighter than I had ever seen, calling me, reaching out a painfully familiar hand soothing any worries—

I shuddered at the memory.

I had no choice but to break the case before getting fully pulled in, despite knowing it would trigger the guards.

The citizen hadn’t made it. She’d looked blankly at me as the guards rushed in, letting herself be dragged away without a word of protest.

Agent Bronze brought me back to the present with a tap on my shoulder. “Is everything alright, Agent Grapes? I need to check you up for contamination.”

I nodded, eagerly letting him scan me for contamination. It’s not before the device finally declared me clear that I let out the breath I was holding. Whatever hold the case content attempted to have on me, it must have broken. 

I wetted my mouth. I could still feel the taste of the nostalgia candy on my tongue.

After the museum guard grabbed my ankle, I had no choice but to use it in order to run to the exit in time. I could barely walk now.

I watched as agent Bronze continued his inspection with Agent Choi. Himself had been checked over already. One of his eyebrows was twitching under the other Agent’s antics. Agent Choi had opened his arms as if to welcome him, and was now joking about feeling so light he was about to fly.

He obviously wasn’t contaminated.

All Bureau Agents accounted for, Bronze moved on to the two citizens we had rescued from the museum. Thankfully, none of them looked to have tempered with the museum's artifacts. We’d found one in a vent and the other in the toilets, too scared to properly look at whatever was on display.

“No one is contaminated,” Agent Bronze confirmed soon after. 

The mission was a success.

There was an itch below my shoulder blades. No matter how much I scratched, I couldn’t seem to catch it.

“You look tired,” Agent Bronze commented. “You should go home early.”

We were just back from a series of rescues, the last of which had been in a haunted butchery. I never wanted to see minced meat ever again.

“It’s fine.”

I wanted to finish the day’s report while my memory was still fresh. We hadn’t been able to catch a break since the museum incident, getting rescue call after rescue call from morning to evening, including two in the middle of the night. Because of this, our paperwork had accumulated into a pile of impeding work. That last rescue hadn’t been in the wiki and I at least wanted to convey its escape method properly.

Plus, however tired I felt, Agent Bronze was too. Dark circles had grown under his eyes from the peak of rescue calls we were getting as the summer drew to an end. From Agent Choi’s unusual silence, he didn’t fare any better. Last time I caught a glimpse of him he’d been slouched on the keyboard.

A butchery probably didn’t bring any good memories.

I willed my eyes to stay open and focused on the computer screen. My back ached uncomfortably. The skin must have opened from how much I scratched it.

I ended up spending three more hours staring at looping sentences before finally sending the last report. By then, I was fully unable to lean against the back of my chair from the fire swelling where the itch had been. I mentally reviewed the last ghost stories we’d been to, but none of them fit ’back inflammation’. I might have developed some skin allergy.

I stumbled upright, slouching more from how tired I felt than for the need to keep up Agent Grapes’ persona. It wasn’t as if anyone could see me. Agent Bronze had left one hour earlier, having finished his own work, and Agent Choi had gone to nap on the couch.

The journey back to the motel room I was renting passed in a daze.

Before I knew it, I was in the bathroom, glancing at the two large bulges covering half of my shoulderblades. Blood, pus and something white was slowly pushing out of them.

I bit back a scream. The white portion grew longer, sticking out of the bulge by a few centimeters now. Flashes of pain coursed through my spine as nerves that shouldn’t exist connected to it. But it was nothing compared to the horror of seeing soft threads covered in slime escape the bulges one by one.

I knew exactly what it was. 

The feathers sticking out from the citizen shirt in the Memory Museum danced in front of my eyes. The white thing growing in my back right now looked nothing like them, too formless, too thin to be feathers. But they looked exactly like a chick's down. 

I had been contaminated by the object displayed in the destroyed case. 

How had the Bureau's device missed it?

The answer came to me as another flash of pain coursed through my back. Some bit of nostalgia candy must have still been in my mouth, confusing the detector.

My thoughts snapped shut as the bulges ripped open, letting something larger pass with a fountain of blood.

The next instant, I was inside the shower, pink-tinted water running past my feets. My back still ached, but the pain was duller. Cold droplets slithered amidst the goosebumps of my skin.

I could feel the light touch of something fluttering on my back.

Wings.

A shudder ran down my spine.

I remembered the citizen’s dull gaze. Amidst the wiki entries of that museum, there had been one about an artifact making people grow wings. If it was this one—

I had to cut them. It wasn’t the time to be rational. The blood loss could be handled, but the consequences if I let this contamination run its course couldn’t.

I dragged myself to the sink and pulled the blood knife out before feeding it some blood. The blade was awkward to manoeuver, but it should be strong enough to tear into the fragile bone that connected the wings to my back.

I resolutely trapped the right wing beneath the blood knife. Someone knocked on the door. I jumped.

The knife slipped out of my hand.

“Soleum-ah? Are you there?”

Shock curled in my stomach. What was Agent Choi doing here?

“Yes. An instant.”

I needed to win time. If I appeared too suspicious, Agent Choi might not listen and enter. I hurriedly let the blood knife revert back to its normal size. Then I flooded the bathroom with water. I made sure to thoroughly shower my head as well.  Once I was certain most of the blood covering the floor had been flushed, I exited the bathroom.

“Are you pooping?” Agent Choi asked mischievously from beyond the door. “It’s fine if I come, right?”

I grit my teeth. What kind of bastard enters after asking if their colleague is in the toilet?

“Please wait,” I insisted.

Hopefully Agent Choi’s last remnants of common sense would win over his impatience.

It was a miracle it held until now.

I stuffed my soaked pants in a hidden corner of the closet and fetched a new pair. My hand wandered towards the shirts, but I hesitated. If I put one on like that, the bump from the wings would definitely show.

Agent Choi was already suspicious enough. If he discovered my current contamination, he would definitely drag me to the Bureau’s hot springs, which would lead to all my other contaminations being discovered as well. Agent Bronze already knew I worked for Daydream in the past, so he wouldn’t be surprised, but it still wasn’t something I wanted to advertise.

What if they fell on Director’s Ho vow?

The solution came in the form of a belt.

“Coming~” Agent Choi declared.

I glared at him from the closet, my shirt still only half-put on. I was pretty sure I had closed the door when I came back, so how he had even unlocked it was beyond me.

“Did you track me down?” I asked. I had never given the Bureau my address.

“Can’t a worried senior visit their sick junior?” Agent Choi quipped back. 

I scowled.

“I’m not sick.”

Agent Choi leaned forward, close enough for his nose to brush my cheeks. His eyes narrowed in attention.

His inspection done, he leaned back.

“Grapes-ie should eat and sleep more.”

My shoulder sagged in relief at recovering my personal space.

“I’ll make sure to eat dinner once you’re gone. Then I’ll sleep.”

Though from the spurn of nausea sending my stomach churning everytime the unnatural sensation of feathers fluttered against my back, I’ll probably jump straight to the second option instead.

Or, an attempt at it. I didn’t give it a good chance of success.

I pushed Agent Choi towards the door.

“Thank you for your visit Agent, but I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

For one moment, Agent Choi didn’t move and I thought he’d insist on staying. But after a last glance at my face, he let himself be pushed out of the room.

For a while, I didn’t move, listening to the distancing footsteps and watching the silhouette appear by the window. It’s only once I was certain that Agent Choi was gone that I flopped down on the bed. I felt dead tired.

I played some cartoons on my phone. I’d have to deal with the wings soon, but right now, I just wanted to rest. 

My eyelids fell by themselves.

I slept better than I ever did since falling into this world. By the time I woke up, the sun was shining and I was late for work.

I hurriedly raced to the Bureau, and only remembered the wings' existence when I pushed Hyunmoo Team 1’s door and felt a pull against the wraps keeping them tightly folded alongside my back. It had loosened during the night.

“Here is our third!” Agent Choi clapped in his hand as I slipped in. “Did something keep you up all night?” There was a mischievous light in his eyes.

I blankly turned my gaze towards Agent Bronze, who politely nodded in greeting.

I wanted to say… usually, something did keep me up all night, but it was the nightmares fuelled by this world ghost stories rather than whatever Agent Choi was imagining.

“I’m sorry for being late,” I bowed.

I sat on my desk without any other comment. One of the clothes holding the wings still fell loose at the movement. I needed to tighten them up.

“So? What kept you up?” I scowled as my senior’s shadow fell over me. “I don’t see any of your usual panda eyebags. Could it be… Grapes-ie finally slept?” 

“...” 

I resisted the urge to push away the noisy face that had fallen close enough to brush my noise and focused on the report displayed on my screen.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Agent Choi unwelcomely patted my shoulder. “Being late once or twice is normal.”

His ’duty’ done, he finally moved away to go pester Agent Bronze instead. My shoulders sagged in relief. His fingers had come one centimeter shy of touching the growing bump between my shoulderblades. 

As soon as I could, I took a break and fastened the wraps that kept the wings hidden.

They looked bigger.

A shudder ran down my spine. They’d been the length of a palm the previous day, barely covered with down, but now they were fully covered in soft feathers and as long as my forearm. I needed to take care of them as fast as possible before the first adult feather appeared.

It would be too suspicious to cut a whole pair of limbs in the Bureau though. I’d wait to be isolated in a ghost story or to be back in the motel to pull the blood knife again. For now, I could just hope the tightness of the wrap cut the wings blood circulation on top of my own breath and slowed down their growth.

But we didn’t get called for a rescue a single time that day.

Worse, once I returned to my room, all my energy and motivation left me. 

I barely managed to drag myself to the bathroom and shower. By the time I remembered why I had gone in the bathroom in the first place, I was in my bed, dozing.

I tried to fight against the doziness. It wasn’t natural.

But I blinked, and it was morning. I had fallen asleep without a single cartoon.

I felt strangely refreshed.

I went to work with the odd sensation I had forgotten to do something, but I couldn’t remember what. I made sure to secure the wraps around my chest so my seniors wouldn’t notice the wings and ask questions. It wouldn’t do to be dragged around for decontamination for something I could easily take care of.

After all, as long as these wings weren’t fully ’grown’, the ghost story wouldn’t be able to call me back. They wouldn’t have ’stolen’ much yet, either. Since they were still covered in down, there was plenty of time left.

The wings had grown so large I had to wear an extra top just to hide their bulk. Even then, I could see my seniors glance suspiciously at me during the last few days.

I could understand their suspicions. My performance had been particularly poor during the last rescues. The wraps had to be kept so tight I couldn’t properly breath, and having two massive limbs glued to my back hindered most of my movements.

I slept without the wraps now. Freeing the wings and letting them spread over the bed like a blanket felt like the best moment of the day.

It was wrong.

Humans didn’t have wings.

I had to cut them.

I climbed on the roof of the motel. The moon shone like a lighthouse above my head. There was something familiar in the air.

Calling me.

Home.

My wings pulled against the restraints to spread and fly. 

I returned to my room before I gave in the urge to jump.

My hand hovered over the tattoo on my arm, ready to summon the blood cutlery. It never reached that far. 

I helplessly tore clumps of feathers instead.

Each sting of pain made my head a bit clearer. It brought a burst of energy I could use to tear the next clump. And the next clump.

By the time I was finished, my room looked like the backstall of a poultry butcher.

The wings didn’t fare better. I had successfully torn every single primary, and large empty patches of irritated flesh showed in the covert area. Surprisingly, there was almost no bleeding.

I reached out for the blood cutlery again, but the feather-tearing spree had left me unbearably tired. At least this way, even if the moon called, I wouldn’t be able to follow.

I curled in the bed, closing my eyes to fall asleep.

I hadn’t turned on any cartoons in the past week.

Fear mixed with anticipation made my heart race.

I could barely focus on the citizens we were rescuing. My focus was fully on the wide limbs thrashing against their restraints, making my top move oddly. I leaned against the closest wall to crush them into stillness.

The sun was still high up, yet I could feel a low thrum in my bones. The sky was calling.

I don’t remember what the other agents said. Before I knew it, the rescue was over and we were back in Hyunmoo Team 1’s waiting room.

My wings twitched. Both agents sent me an odd look.

I ran outside before Agent Bronze could open his mouth.

I climbed the stairs, feeling suffocated by all the earth burying the Bureau’s underground facilities. Even once I reached the street, it wasn’t enough.

I needed to be higher.

I found a building with maintenance ladders giving roof access. It wasn’t the highest around, but it already felt a bit better than the street. My breathing relaxed. I noticed I could inhale and inflate my lungs freely.

The wraps had fallen.

Since when? For how long had the wings been free?

I frantically removed my jacket, pull and shirts. Two large, several meter long wings spread in the afternoon air. The feathers shone, soft and healthy. As if they had never been torn.

The wings flapped, and I felt my feet lift off the ground.

I grit my teeth and grabbed one to forcefully fold it. The wing trashed, but it stayed firmly trapped between my fingers. An unfathomable sadness twisted my heart. I needed to let go. The sky was waiting. I wanted to—

I kept my fingers clenched around the feathers.

Thanks to the overwhelming fear twisting my stomach, I could still resist the call.

I glanced at the size of the wings. Recalling what they used to grow from the wiki entry, my stomach fell further.

It had been one of the reasons I wanted to cut them before adult feathers came in.

Eacĥ feather barb was a thread made of the binds I shared with the world. Memories, affections, repulsions… anything I had shared with someone or something would be here. Connected only through the bones extending from my back.

Removing the wings in such a state of contamination held the risk of becoming an empty shell.

But I didn’t have a choice.

The place ’calling me’ was the very museum I had been contaminated in. Perhaps the artifact originally came from another ghost story. But now, it led its victims straight into the collectioners hands.

They probably waited for the wings to fully mature before ’collecting’ them, extracting a whole human lifetime worth of memories.

The bloodsucking knife was in my hand. I must be bleeding somewhere for it to have reached such a large shape, but I couldn’t feel it.

The wing bone was much larger now than when I first tried to cut it, a few weeks ago. I pressed the blade against its side. My heart twitched.

I had to move forward.

I couldn’t. They were—

Would the wings only absorb the connections of this world, or go further? Had my memories of home already been consumed?

I thought about my parents, but no name came on my tongue. Had their names been in the primaries I carelessly tore away?

Even then, I had no choice. If I didn’t cut them now, I’d die. 

I gripped the thought tightly and used it to lift the hand holding the knife. The cursed metal reflected the sun like an executioner blade.

It fell.

Someone’s hand stopped my wrist. 

“Agent Grapes.” 

Agent Bronze’s worried face filled my vision. He had more wrinkles than I remembered.

“Don’t swallow.”

Something bittersweet was pushed past my lips. Immediately, my back became lighter and my mind clearer. 

Cutting the wings had been as stupid as letting them grow long enough to fly. Whether I cut them here or got trapped at the museum… the result would be the same. Both would end up in my loss.

At least now I could think properly. Still, when had I given Agent Bronze a nostalgia candy? I couldn’t remember.

“You’ve been contaminated.”

Agent Bronze stated the obvious. He wrapped my fallen jacket against my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I said. I swallowed the sorry that tried to escape my tongue.

I could see from his expression that no apology was needed— it was rare for contaminated people to be able to act against their contamination, even if it was just to reach out for help. I had already noticed it when the teacher's book had been in my tattoo. Still, falling for it again didn’t feel good.

“Agent Choi?” I asked.

Even with the candy rolling on my tongue, I could feel a shadow impression of the wings pressing hesitantly against my back.

“He’s been filling forms for a hot spring visit.” Agent Bronze reached out a hand to me. “Let’s go together.”

Even if I knew Agent Bronze was saying that per pure professional interest, because someone needed to monitor me while I was in a contaminated state, the offer warmed my chest.

I fastened my jacket and took his hand. It was firm yet gentle, covered in calluses from too many missions and reports. 

“Let’s go together,” I agreed.

I knew there was no delaying further. I couldn’t afford to refuse and hide my previous Daydream experience when everything had gone so far.

Hopefully, the Bureau would have the proper equipment to deal with the contamination without cutting away all my connections. If not, I had a few nostalgia candies and Blue Mascot’s churros left in my tattoo to keep my wits until I found a solution.

We returned to the Bureau. Agent Bronze never released his grip once throughout the whole journey, not relaxing even as he pushed the door to Hyunmoo Team 1’s waiting room. I let myself be led, aware of my precarious state.

I was fine now, but as soon as the candy was finished, the wings would spread again from my back.

Agent Choi turned in our direction as soon as we entered. There was an oddly delighted smile on his face.

“Hyunmoo’s field trip has been approved!”

It’s only upon hearing Agent Choi’s cheer that I realised how many people ’Let’s go together’ included. I almost asked Agent Bronze if I could ride one of the glass prison’s beads instead. The way to the hot spring would be long.