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"Do you believe in ghosts? I mean, you're so into supernatural stuff."
Hanni smiled at the question, momentarily picking up her sandwich to take a bite. That didn't even need an answer.
"Of course. Supernatural events are incredible. In my opinion, they've always been proof of what might exist in the afterlife."
"If you say so..."
Kim Min Ji wasn't necessarily a believer. It was rare, considering she was Catholic, attended church regularly, and yet firmly believed that ghosts didn't exist—not even jokingly. But maybe God and other entities showed themselves in different ways if Min Ji ever dared to put a little faith in the supernatural. Hanni had long given up on convincing her, and that was fine; not everyone needed to think the same way.
Hanni could believe in many things: ghosts, aliens, and the red string of fate. She always thought there was some evidence—unconfirmed, but hinting at something more.
The school day ended close to four in the afternoon. Some students were preparing to go to hagwons for extra study, but Hanni headed home. After an intense twenty-minute walk, she arrived and, using the spare keys in her backpack, opened the front door to darkness and faint halos of light segmenting the walls.
"Good afternoon, Hanni. There's tofu and seafood stew with rice," Mrs. Sung, the housekeeper, informed her kindly. Since her parents were busier with work than household affairs, they'd hired someone to do chores as quickly as possible. Mrs. Sung didn't have a close relationship with Hanni—the girl spent more time in her own world than in reality—but they treated each other with respect, and that was enough.
Hanni thanked her for the food, said she'd eat later, and after giving Mrs. Sung her daily allowance, the woman left. Sometimes, Hanni felt uneasy about Mrs. Sung staying alone in the house for a few hours—no one would know if she'd sabotaged or stolen anything. But that thought was too horrible to entertain, so she avoided it.
With everything settled, Hanni went up to her room, closed the door behind her, and immersed herself in the dim glow. Papers were stuck to the walls—thousands of windows pretending to be open, just to make her feel more at ease. Some had quick pencil sketches; others held questions and answers she'd made for herself.
With renewed energy, she tore a page from her desk notebook and wrote:
"What did you do at school today? Are you okay?"
Hesitating a little, she took her time writing a reply, but she did.
"Same as always, different day. Nothing too different except Mr. Lee scolded me for not turning in a graph assignment on time. I'm fine."
She stuck the note to her wall, removing some that were months old. As she walked away and turned on her desk lamp, a loud noise—like a sudden crash—snapped her out of her trance. Quickly, she turned toward the window from where the sound came.
Cautiously, she unlocked and opened it. Night had fallen, and usually, she'd hear only the wind and see branches swaying gently, but not this time. She saw something unusual.
Someone sat high in her neighbor's tree, dressed in a long T-shirt down to their knees, long brown hair flowing, their back to her window. She frowned, staring in wonder. How could they be so high up, so calm, without moving a muscle?
She decided to speak up so the person could hear.
"Uh... hello?" she called softly. "What are you doing so high up? You could... fall."
The person turned, their eyes meeting hers. It was a girl, her feminine features delicate and very beautiful. A strange weight pressed in Hanni's chest.
"I like being here, feeling the breeze wrap around my feet. I feel like I'm on top of the world," the girl said in a soft, slightly high voice—almost like rivers of light swirled around her wrists. "It's not dangerous for me, I promise. What's your name?"
"Hanni... Pham."
"Hanni Pham," the girl repeated, savoring the name. "Nice name. I'm Danielle Marsh."
"Danielle Marsh." Hanni rolled the name around her tongue. "You have a pretty name."
Danielle smiled gratefully and looked ahead again, back to Hanni. Hanni felt uncomfortable—wanting to talk, to know her better, but her mind was blank, and she wasn't good at taking initiative. Then a soft voice filled the space again.
"The moon is very pretty tonight, don't you think? It's prettier when you're close to it."
"How close have you been to the moon to say that?"
"Closer than you think," Danielle answered, turning again. Hanni frowned. It seemed impossible she'd been to the moon, so she guessed a telescope.
Hanni was about to reply when her flashlight went out. She told Danielle to wait and turned to fix it. When it came back on, the girl was gone. Confused, Hanni searched but found no trace—it was as if Danielle had vanished. Strange.
The next morning, before school, Hanni looked at the big tree through her window, locking it. The memory of last night returned. She had to tell Min Ji.
"Really! I just turned around to turn on my flashlight, and when I looked back, she was gone! And nothing even happened to my flashlight..."
"Are you sure? It could've been an illusion," Min Ji said, unconvinced. She obviously hadn't an answer either if she believed her. Hanni snorted.
Back home, ready for homework, something caught her eye. A yellow note with a moon drawing and a question in cursive:
"I've noticed your walls are covered with notes, questions, and answers you ask yourself. Can I change that and be the one asking this time?"
Hanni froze. No author's name. Nervous. Danielle's face came to mind. It had to be her. Turning it over, another message read:
"How close do you think I've been to the moon?"
She knew it had to be Danielle. Hastily, she grabbed a pen and wrote:
"Not too close, but you must be very interested in it."
After placing the note by the window, she worried if she'd see Danielle that night and ask about it.
When night came, finishing her homework, she saw a shadow up in the tree and went to watch Danielle. Taking the note, she shouted, "Hey, Danielle!" The girl turned, dark eyes like wells or craters. "Did you leave this note on my wall?"
"Uh-huh."
"How did you get into my room?"
"I was curious, so I opened the window and climbed in," Danielle said, shrugging.
Hanni wanted to be angry—mad that Danielle snuck in, read her notes, and looked through who knows what—but she couldn't, stunned. She'd locked the window that morning. How? The thought confused and terrified her. She avoided Danielle's eyes.
"I know how you feel," Danielle said, swinging her leg lazily from the branch. "Close your eyes and I'll be there in a moment."
Hanni hesitated but lowered her head and clutched the note. Darkness filled her vision. Suddenly, a flash, a loud sound, a cold sensation wrapping around her almost made her open her eyes—but she didn't. Then Danielle's voice, surprisingly close, as if right in front of her, said, "Open them."
She frowned and recoiled, dismayed. Danielle was in her room in less than a minute. Hanni studied her more closely despite the questions racing in her head. Her hair was wavy, softer than it looked; freckles on her left cheekbone, bright eyes framed by long lashes; full lips; a long, thin neck; glowing skin. She was beautiful, but everything felt strange—too strange.
"H-how is it that...?"
"You don't need to know, but isn't this great?" Danielle said, more to herself, turning on her heel. "Mr. Marsh, your neighbor in the house on the left, is my father. Sometimes I visit without my mother knowing, and when I want to relax, I climb the tree to admire the moon."
Danielle plopped on the bed without asking, took a pillow on her lap, and gave Hanni a glowing smile that pulled her in like a supernatural force.
It was strange because Hanni expected to tell Danielle to leave, that it was inappropriate, but instead, she stayed, enjoying their gentle conversation. Danielle shared bits about her life.
The room was covered in long shadows, moonlight creeping through the window, gentle and still.
"What happened next?"
"For four months, my father was off work with a fracture, but they fired him anyway. After he recovered, he found a job at a publishing house and took me fishing in his spare time."
Contrary to what she'd thought, Danielle was more interesting than expected.
Hanni left the yellow note on her nightstand and checked her phone: they'd been talking for an hour and a half, and she hadn't finished a third of her homework. They lay on the bed quieter now, Danielle's voice a whisper as they looked around the room: Hanni's notes, books, posters—all closer than she'd imagined.
"It's a shame he got fired, but luckily, he found another job quickly. You, on the other hand, learned a little more from going fishing with him."
"I still have a lot to learn," Danielle sighed. "I want to learn from you. Tell me about yourself."
Danielle turned face down on the mattress, leaning on her elbows close to Hanni, who shivered but didn't move away.
"B-but I've already told you..." Hanni's voice dropped as Danielle stared at her lips from the corner of her eye. "D-Danielle, you're too close..."
"Oh, really?" Danielle replied as if ignoring the plea to back off, staring at her lips. "I... don't think so."
Suddenly, Danielle pressed her lips to hers. Hanni was shocked but found herself returning the kiss. Something about Danielle's lips, those dark eyes, was irresistible. No matter how hard she tried, she sank deeper.
When they parted, Danielle smiled the sweetest smile, and Hanni's heart fluttered. She felt this moment was perfect, but wondered why she'd let her stay, why she kissed her, and why she liked it—all mysteries Danielle ignored, deflecting questions about her cold skin, her strange teleportation, or her boldness with strangers.
Hanni didn't question her further. Another note slid onto her wall, then drifted out the window with a smiling goodbye and a fading silhouette just before eleven.
The next day, Hanni realized she couldn't deny it: feeling Danielle's lips had been magical, filling her with sweetness and calm. She wanted more, but how could she feel so close to someone she barely knew? Why was Danielle so overwhelming? No answers, and she guessed she wouldn't get any soon.
Telling Min Ji brought surprise and concern.
"Han, no," Min Ji said firmly. Hanni shrugged. "This can't go on. You're telling me she went from a tree branch high above to your room for one kiss... And you liked it? God, that's not right."
"And what should I do? Push her away?"
"That'd be best," Min Ji sniffed. "It's just weird... Even if you like her, the things she does aren't human. Are you sure it's not an illusion or a trick of your brain?"
Hanni felt offended, almost yelling at Min Ji as she stormed off to class—knowing she'd turn back if she looked at her innocent eyes.
That night, another yellow note appeared on her desk:
"I don't know you well yet, but I want to take you to the moon. You'll see how close I've been."
She wrote back:
"That would be beautiful."
Her eyes fell on the window silhouette—Danielle sitting in the tree's branch, smiling against the bright moonlight. An incredible, calm full moon night. Hanni smiled despite everything.
In the following weeks, things stayed much the same. Hanni relaxed in Danielle's arms. Danielle came almost every night, leaving notes and soft kisses that traced the corners of lips, noses, and eyelids. Hanni indulged in the comfort and grew fond quickly, revealing things about herself months earlier.
She realized she'd been distant from Min Ji, watching her walk alone at school. Feeling guilty, she decided to apologize. When they finally spoke after days, Min Ji said, "Maybe I was harsh last time, but... Han," she paused, "have you wondered how she climbed the tree so fast? Or how you say she's in your room but you can't see her come in? There's nothing wrong if you say you like her, but think about what she does..."
Hanni finally saw clearly. Danielle's cold skin, her halo of light, her strange, often past-tense speech, her lack of family or friends. It was like she was stuck in the past, unable to tell thoughts from reality—even though she seemed smart and witty.
But most of all—the moon.
Danielle said she'd been there, that it was beautiful, calm for her soul. She jumped around the craters as if spending her last days riding the moon. One day, she'd take Hanni with her. Strange as it was, Hanni almost didn't believe it, but when Danielle touched her chest and a rush of calm wrapped her body, a fog covered her eyes until she closed them. She felt cold and weightless, floating. Danielle said she was giving her a vision between the physical and spiritual planes.
Against all doubt, Hanni believed her.
She wanted to go to the moon with Danielle—and still did passionately.
But doubts remained. Hanni decided to talk to Danielle that night, if she appeared in the tree. After fixing things with Min Ji, she came home and watched, waiting for the familiar haloed figure. But Danielle didn't appear that night, nor the next, for a whole week.
Hanni grew desperate and restless. Midnight came, and sleep reclaimed her, leaving an ache in her chest—no sign of Danielle. She had no idea why she'd stopped coming or if she was forbidden. The uncertainty made her nervous.
During the night, she swore her wall shone brighter, Danielle's yellow notes like sun fragments scattered with warmth. She reread them to calm her anxiety.
"Talk to Min Ji. You seem close, and I wouldn't want you to drift apart."
"Do you think my present is a mystery? I think my past is the real mystery."
"Do you like going to the moon with me? I know it hasn't happened yet, but when you came closest, it felt good, didn't it?"
Almost two weeks later, unable to bear loneliness, Hanni went for a walk and saw Danielle again—sitting on the lowest branch in the park, legs swinging. Their eyes met, sending chills through her. Danielle's usual smile was absent, replaced by an impassive expression.
"Hi, Hanni."
You used to call me 'Han,' Hanni thought, with slight remorse. She'd considered being polite and calling her 'unnie,' but didn't know her age. All she knew was that she was close in age.
"Hi, Dani," Hanni greeted, scrutinizing Danielle's face until she looked away. "I haven't seen you in almost two weeks."
"I know."
"Why? Why haven't you visited?" Hanni asked, her voice pleading. "You know I'd like to visit you, but I..."
"Yeah, yeah, I understand," Danielle's voice was flat, contrasting with Hanni's restless movements. "I guess there's something you want to talk about, and until then, you'll know why I haven't come."
"Well, you disappeared for two weeks without a clue, and now you act like nothing happened," Hanni said with hurt. "Can you tell me why?"
Danielle was silent, shifting her head against the tree trunk, eyelashes fluttering softly like a hypnotic spell. "Hanni..." She looked at her dark eyes like tar pools. "What do you think of me? What do you suspect?"
Hanni didn't hold back. "You're too unnatural," she said briefly. "I've grown fond of you fast... But the things you do... How do you get to my window so fast? How do you climb that tree so quickly? Or... why do I feel such an urgent need to see the moon with you?"
Danielle instinctively looked at the waning quarter moon.
"Because I was once of this world, Han. If I seem strange, it's because I'm a lost soul," she said. Hanni frowned, confusion clear, so Danielle continued. "I was born in Newcastle, Australia, in 1995. I don't remember how or when I died, but it was my dad's fault. He suffered sociopathy and... since then, I've been lost. But then I met you."
Danielle climbed down the tree, never breaking eye contact, and Hanni didn't move. "When I had nothing to do, I stayed in the big tree at my parents' house, looking at the night. Something told me you could help, so I gathered courage and approached you. I couldn't lie: being with you made me feel alive again. It was like you ignited something inside me."
Danielle took one of Hanni's hands. She didn't pull away. "I knew you were suspiciously watching me, so I took time away to think. Han, I'm scared. I shouldn't feel it, but seeing you, talking, touching... gives me a bad feeling. It shouldn't happen. Maybe it's because you can help me move on. I'm here because I have unfinished business left behind in my past life."
Hanni looked into Danielle's dark eyes and gently touched the scar on her neck, now seeing more clearly. If Danielle needed help, she'd give it to her.
"Take me home, Dan."
Danielle obeyed, and under a moon scattering pearls across the night, Hanni had the best time of her life.
With each button undone, every heavy gasp, every drop of sweat between the sheets, the darkness faded — leaving craters where they fell, slowly and infinitely.
"Dani, Dani!"
As nails dug into Danielle's cold skin and a moan escaped, Hanni felt her desire cascade like waterfalls. She'd never felt so complete yet empty, as if her body needed more to still the breaking inside. Finally, she let herself fall between the sheets, no shame; the shadow above hiding her was enough.
"Han, I... I'd like to take you with me, but... it's certain death."
Hanni slid her hands down her body and drew Danielle into a softer, tender kiss, wanting to hold the moment forever.
Danielle stayed that night, but in dreams, Hanni felt a sharp pain that woke her suddenly. Danielle was gone from the bed.
Driven by an invisible force, she rushed through the neighbor's fence, almost bare, climbed it hastily, ran across the grass, and sat under the big tree, tearing at the grass with her nails.
She didn't know how long she lasted, but kept digging until she felt something hard under the dirt.
Under the big tree lay Danielle Marsh's body—bones mostly intact, next to a half-torn bracelet dated April 11, 2012.
Looking up for hope, she saw a bright full moon overhead before collapsing, dirt-covered hands clutching emerging bones.
But the nightmare was ending.
"So," Min Ji said nervously, eating her sandwich, "how did that turn out?"
"At first, I couldn't remember, but I got up quickly and told my parents—without explaining why I was on the neighbor's fence. Hours later, police swarmed the house. I heard Mr. Marsh screaming like a maniac," Hanni explained, catching her breath. "We got a letter about the trial soon after. I only answered a couple of prosecutor questions—probably seemed crazy. But the bones were clearly human. I'm glad that man got life without parole. He killed his daughter with a head blow to keep her from seeing a boy at school, then buried her."
"You're strange for being so calm," Min Ji said quietly. Hanni's heart was alarmingly quick. "What did you say before all that?"
Hanni blinked, taking it in. "He screamed as they took him away, saying he planned to kill me with a shovel."
Hanni nearly faced the same fate but felt calmer than she thought possible.
That night, counting Danielle's notes on her walls, she paused at one:
"How close do you think I've been to the moon?"
Closing her eyes, she imagined another place beyond her walls—light surrounding her, floating as if in a bubble. Opening her eyes shocked her.
She was on the moon, seeing Earth as a tiny blue-green dot, the dark starry sky like glowing pupils. The rocky ground felt beneath her amorphous feet. A bright flash of sunlight came, and she felt she might die, but was safe—because Danielle was there.
Danielle gently touched a crater. They smiled softly, and she walked over, yellow notes in hand, asking, "Do you believe in ghosts?"
Hanni smiled. "I believe in you, Dani. You kept your promise to take me to the moon. You're incredible. It's a miracle I met you."
Danielle smiled the sweetest smile Hanni had ever seen in her eighteen years and slowly faded into stardust, until a light consumed every trace. Yellow notes scattered on the rocky ground screamed silently: "Thank you for everything. For freeing me from my past life's weight, knowing you'll never see me; for smiles and hugs making me feel alive, cherished every second; for feelings and happy moments. Thank you for teaching how incredible life can be."
Hanni breathed easily.
That night, or long after, was a full moon night.