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The wheels run over the 5^th? 6^th? 39^th? bump on the uncemented road (must be a solid rock sticking out of the ground), jostling Taeyong and every single thing in his car. Something clangs particularly loud from the compartment and he hopes it’s not anything glassy because he already left the things he doesn’t need back in the old apartment, and it’s ironic to be moving to the new address with garbage.

His lampshade hits the side of his head as he runs over another goddamn rock, swinging left and right after so many times he’d attempted to shove it back. Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought it. The village has electricity, and he doesn’t sleep with the lights on. This lampshade is pretty much a useless ornament.

Moving out, he’d forgotten, really takes up so much time, energy and patience and honestly, Taeyong doesn’t have much of all of them. And this uneven road is only making it even worse.

The lampshade falls over again and hits his ear. “Oh you little shit—” Taeyong shoves—no, punches it to the back, smirking at the rearview mirror as he watches it roll off the backseat, before the smug look on his face is wiped out by a wail as his car runs over something bigger than a rock.

Taeyong stomps on the brake, eyes wide. Three farmers—two men and a woman, rush in his direction with horror on their faces. His heart speeds up with them.

He releases his death grip on the wheel and gets out of the car just as the farmers reach him.

“Oh god!”

God forbid it’s not a fucking child.

Taeyong inhales and drops to a squat to check the severity of his offense. A goat, with a part of its neck still trapped under the weight of a wheel, twitches erratically as it bleeds to death.

He stands up, pinching the bridge of his nose as he prepares a litany of apologies. “Ahjussi, I’m sorry—”

“Were you not looking where you’re driving?! That was our livelihood!”

That stupid lampshade had caused him so much inconvenience for nothing. “I was fixing something.”

“Is that more important than driving safely? How did you manage to get a license? You should not be allowed to drive! You’re a danger to yourself and to others! What if it was a child?!”

Thank fuck it wasn’t, huh? “Look, ahjussi, I’m really sorry. It’s not like I wanted to kill the goat. How much is it?” Taeyong fishes out his wallet. “I’ll pay—”

The old lady scoffs, looking at him as if he were a wanted criminal. “City boys,” she spits with so much venom, “they think they could get  away all the time with money. Don’t you know what this means for us? The elders believe harming animals will bring bad luck. How are you going to compensate for that?”

He can’t bring himself to believe that people still believe in such. “…What kind of bad luck?”

“Worse than the fate of this goat!”

They continue to fuss over the carcass, going into hysterics about the effort of raising goats to sell and earn, losing money and possibly panhandling for food. Taeyong doubts one goat down will turn them into homeless beggars, but he’s not in the position to question them. He’s still at fault, regardless of how overly dramatic they seem. He understands that this will put a strain in their income and he’s willing to pay for the damage anyway.

One of the men vainly pushes his car back as the other pulls the goat from under it, leaving a trail of blood from the puddle to a spot beside a bush where they will probably bury the dead animal.

The skin of its neck was peeled like it was bitten off by its predator. Could his tires that haven’t been changed in years be able to do that?

“What a cruel man.”

“I really apologize, ahjussi, ahjumma. It was an accident. Nobody wanted this to happen.” He really sucks at this. “How much is the goat?”

They look among each other before the lady names their price. No idea how much a live goat is supposed to cost, Taeyong hands them half of the bills in his wallet and watches them excitedly count, dead goat forgotten behind.

“…I suppose that’s settled, then.” Getting back in his car, Taeyong chances a look at them in the mirror as he drives again and raises a brow as the old lady grins while looking his way.

Realization hits him. “Seriously…?” They purposely put the goat in the middle of the road, didn’t they? To scam drivers? “And they have guts to cry about bad luck?”

Talking about bad luck, he remembers a Buddhism book he’d read before by a lama from Nepal. Taeyong has no religion but out of respect he’d taught himself about other people’s beliefs. It talked about the importance of all living beings in the world and just like what the scamming lady had said, those that kill animals will be killed 500 times by others, and their souls will suffer in hell for eons. If you kill one with a knife, you will be killed the same way.

Though the book was insightful, Taeyong simply doesn’t believe in luck or karma. Everything is predicted by one’s actions and not by any unseen force. Good or bad, shit just happens in real life—

A black thing lands with a violent thud on the windshield, startling him. Taeyong swerves in panic, and brakes right before the hood slams against the trunk of a tree.

The crow slides down and twitches like the goat he inadvertently ran over. Hoping he didn’t just score his second roadkill of the day, Taeyong knocks on the glass and flinches as the bird leaps. It flaps its wing and turns its head, looking him straight in the eyes with its beady white pupils before flying away.

“…What the hell?” Taeyong sprays the windshield and turns the wiper on, then gets back on the road. Imagining the crow feasting on the goat’s carcass.

That isn’t counted as bad luck, is it?

Shaking the thought out of his head, he steps on the gas and cranes his neck in case another goat or bird tries to  put him in jail.

Andong is a city that is said to be the most ‘Korean’ in the country, and was even visited by Queen Elizabeth II once. But Taeyong’s new address, the Seong village, is far from downtown Andong, situated past rolling fields and settled nearby a vast forest.

An old woman with short, graying hair and a slightly hunched back sweeps the ground right next to the mailbox with his name on it. Taeyong parks the gar next to the hanok and gets out, greeting the lady with a smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Hwang.”

“Oh, Taeyong! Finally, you’re hre! I thought you would arrive earlier.”

“Got caught in traffic.” And little accidents.

“I thought so. Would you like some help with your belongings?”

“Ah no, thank you. There’s a lot and they’re quite heavy. I’ll do it later.”

“Okay.” She puts the broom down and fishes the pocket of her apron. “Here are your keys—actually! I shall open it for you! Like a real estate agent, huh?” Laughing, Mrs. Hwang walks up to the little porch and fiddles with the set of keys, giving the lock a strong tug before uncoiling the chain and sliding open the doors of the hanok house.

Of Taeyong’s new abode.

When he found the house last month, Mrs. Hwang had given him a tour. It looks like a typical hanok, just a little bigger than most of the houses in the village. Coming from a modern apartment to a traditional house, the change is quite astonishing but Taeyong will get used to it. His family had stayed in hanok houses during vacations when he was a kid and he liked it.

Mrs. Hwang hands him the keys and tells him what each key is for. “We cleaned the house again and repaired some things. You know how we’re not really the owners of this house. The family that lived here just upped and left, as far as I can remember as it has been 15 years since, and left it to the head of the village to sell it away.”

“No one else lived here in those 15 years?”

“Well, some did. But only for a few weeks at most. They didn’t like what the house made them feel.”

Taeyong looks around. It’s perfect for him. Simple, spacious, and the village is quiet. Not crowded, and the houses are not compressed. “Did they think it was inadequate? Good thing I’m all by myself.” He smiles at her. “There will be no one else to please.” Mrs. Hwang fidgets. “…Yes?”

Her voice drops as if wary of being overheard. “Actually, it must be because of the tragic tale that surrounds this house. My husband didn’t want me to tell you because it might scare you away, but you remind me of my son so I feel inclined to look after you. Anyway, I’ve gotten off track. You see, there’s nothing much to do here but come together and talk. We share stories. This house has been here, abandoned, even before my husband and I came to Andong. And from what I heard, one of the families that live here had a problem. The father brought his mistress to live with his family, and it devastated the wife that she hung herself.”

Taeyong glances in the direction of the bedroom. Should he ask where it happened?

“Her daughter saw, and died from suffocation as her body dropped from the ceiling and fell on top of the kid. They said weird noises have been plaguing this house since then. I’m yet to hear a thing, and I have no plans! Not a single one of us that live around this house have heard those noises that the occupants claimed to hear every night.”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he walks around the common area to see if there’s a loose floorboard he should fix so that Mrs. Hwang could spread the news that it is just the house being old and rickety. “I’m not sensitive to noises.”

“But—”

“I already bought it, Mrs. Hwang. You’re a month too late to convince me otherwise.”

The old woman shrugs and gives him a few reminders, telling him to call her if needs anything. Taeyong shakes his head as she leaves.

“Must be a huge fan of A Tale of Two Sisters. It’s one of the greatest Asian horror movies, so I can’t blame her.”

He begins transferring boxes and boxes of his belongings from the car, huffing out a complaint as he pants after he drops the box filled with both soft and hardbound books. “Fuck. I should’ve booked movers.”

Parents taken away from him by an accident when he was a teen, Taeyong was forced to rely on distant relatives to survive until he graduated from college, and he never heard from them again. Right after graduating, he worked as an instructor in a private institution. Keeping a mundane routine for years with frequent self-indulging here and there until a visit to the doctor due to a sudden drop of blood sugar left him with the news that he’s sick.

Gravely sick. He’s always been a sickly kid, and the doctor confirmed how bad it’s been going and will be going for him. Findings said that his heart is not functioning as it should. It’s only completing its everyday task at 35%. Anytime, he could have a heart attack.

Bottomline is…he’s dying. And Taeyong left the city to die somewhere quiet. Alone, but calm and in peace, in his mother’s hometown.

A knock brings him out of reverie. Taeyong opens the door and sees a girl on his porch. “Hi?”

“Hello! I’m Sukja. Are you the new owner of this house?”

“Yes, I’m Taeyong.”

She beams. “Awesome. I arrived last week for a vacation. Got the house on your left. Just a 15-second trip if you wanna stop by for some tea!”

Taeyong looks at her house. Smaller than his and equally nondescript. “A vacation, you say? Seong village is not the place what most people would choose to relax.”

“I guess I’m not like people. Are you sure you’re going to stay here for a while?”

“…Pretty sure. It’ll be a bummer to keep moving—”

She cuts him off, smiling even wider. “Great! Another person to take into consideration. I’m glad you chose to live here, Taeyong. We have to get along!”

Slightly weirded out by her behavior, Taeyong merely smiles and nods at her, getting back inside the house as she skips back to hers. Sukja seems like an overgrown kid.

“Home Sweet Home.”

He opens the first box and sees that they’re only newspapers and magazines so he pushes them to the bottom of his chores today. After opening the windows on both sides, he continues organizing and making the house look as lived in as he can, because this is going to be his life from now on. His everyday life, until the conclusion.  

He’s facing the ceiling when he wakes up. The window is shut, but Taeyong can tell that it’s still too early to rise. The silence surrounding him says that all of his neighbors are still asleep, and he should be too.

Taeyong checks the time on his phone. 3:13am. His whole body hasn’t recuperated yet from the move, eyelids heavy with sleep. There is literally no reason for him to be doing something else other than sleeping yet here he is, wondering what dragged him out of slumber.

Must be the new environment. It’s his first night in the new house, so he must be a little restless.

He scrolls through his messages for a moment before putting his phone down to go back to sleep, which the sudden soft but quick thudding from somewhere keeps him from doing.

They sound like frantic slamming of soles on the floor. Footsteps.

Taeyong looks at the door but sees no silhouette. Of course there shouldn’t be one. He’s alone. Yet he cannot be mistaken. Those are footsteps—quick, scurrying footsteps, and it’s close. The sound is coming from his living room.

Did the farmers whose goat he killed find out where he lives and are now trying to steal from him? He’s not loaded, if that’s what they think. They cannot scam him twice. They are only going to be met with nothing but disappointment, in the form of Taeyong’s meager decorations and Taeyong himself.

Getting up as silently as he can, Taeyong reaches for the switch on the wall. As the light turns on, the footsteps stop. He listens for when they’re going to escape but he hears nothing. So the culprit—or culprits, must be frozen in place, unsure of what to do if they get caught. Taeyong scans his little bedroom for a weapon, but the only thing he could use for defense is a hardbound book. Destructive if used smartly. He could slam it down the thief’s head as hard as possible. His heart may be wonky but that doesn’t mean he can’t swing a good punch.

Sliding the door open, the light flows into the short hallway and into the living room. When he gets there, expecting the burglar to be aiming a knife at him, Taeyong is met with an empty space. Nobody is in the kitchen, in the bathroom. Nobody is standing outside the house, or running away. All of his books, magazines, portraits are in place. And belatedly he realizes that all windows and doors were properly shut before he took a peek outside. An escaping thief wouldn’t think of gently closing the door after himself.

Unless it’s a fucking ninja. Grabbing a knife from the kitchen, Taeyong retreats to the bedroom warily and shuts the door, turning the light off before lying down his futon with the knife right next to his pillow. For a few minutes he waits for the thief’s return, until he falls asleep.

Eyes closing just as a shadow emerges from the opposite side of the door, the figure standing guard right outside his bedroom. Stays there without moving, and only dissipating as the morning comes.

/

Mrs. Hwang said there are no thieves in Seong village, or in any other neighboring villages. But Taeyong hears the footsteps the following nights. He wakes up to the sounds and waits for an attack. And everytime he bravely comes out of the room to finally catch the motherfucker, he finds the house just as it was before he slept. Untouched.

It doesn’t take him long to realize that whatever it is that is having fun bothering him at night must not be a person, but it’s as real as anything can be. Ghosts do exist, and unsurprisingly, with the tale that Mrs. Hwang had told him about, Taeyong assumes that something is indeed haunting the house he just moved into.

One thing that Taeyong is sure of about this ghost, without being an expert in the paranormal, is that it’s not evil. It doesn’t want to harm him because if it did, he should already be sporting bruises now. Nevertheless, he always finds his magazines and paperback strewn on the floor in the morning as if the ghost wants to tell him he’s never alone at night.

As the days pass by, this ghost gets hungrier for his attention. From frantic footsteps, the disturbances upgrade to clanging plates, sliding of the windows open and close, scratching on the walls, and the rhythmical drumming somewhere near his head that Taeyong can only imagine as tapping fingers.

One time, he wakes up with a puddle of water right next to his head, and a damp spot on the ceiling. It’s not raining.

Typically, when people are haunted by ghosts, they pack up and leave. But Taeyong is not one to get scared easily. It’s just an invisible ghost! That thinks the house is its playground. If it’s not an evil entity, what danger could it bring him?

Having quit his job, and without plans to take up a new one for now, Taeyong has nothing to occupy himself with other than cleaning and reading his books. And also casually having a one-sided conversation with the ghost that now, after two weeks of only messing with him at night, has finally decided to accompany him as well during daylight.

Sitting by the porch, Taeyong sips his afternoon tea while rereading his favorite novel of Dennis Lehane. As he flips the page, he feels a weak but cold breeze on the back of his neck. Like when somebody walks past. Putting down his cup, Taeyong sighs. “If you think you could distract me from my book, you’re in for a disappointment. I can digest textbooks perfectly fine while listening to heavy metal. You really have to think of something other than that to annoy me even just a little bit.”

The ghost is an obedient one. Taeyong stares blankly at the book as a colder puff of air hits his ear. Turning around to look at nothing, predictably, he feels it again in his other ear, followed by a…giggle.

Based on the tale, Taeyong assumed that the ghost haunting his house was a woman. But that giggle was deep, and for the first time since coming to terms that he is not, in fact, alone in here, the skin of his arms are dotted with goosebumps.

“Hi, Taeyong!”

Sukja waves at him as she approaches, carrying a basket. “What are you doing?”

Taeyong touches his ear. “Reading a book.”

“Are you a nerd?”

“…Why does reading a book make someone a nerd? Do you not like reading?”

Sukja chuckles. “I have better and more exciting things to do. What’s the book about?”

“About a detective who’s searching for a missing psychiatric patient.” He closes the book but not before dog-earring the page he’s currently on. Yeah, chaotic evil, he knows. “What’s in the basket?”

She takes a peek inside, humming. “Just some bread I got from the market. Would you like some?”

He’s not a bread person. Even if he doesn’t want to be rude for rejecting the offer, since it’s food, Taeyong is only going to let it sit on his table and get stale. “No, thank you.”

“I could make you a sandwich!”

“I just ate, actually. And I’m already having my tea, so.”

“No more room for some more in your stomach?” She grins, eyeing his torso. “Is it packed and tight? Oh, you might burst if you ate more! Imagine your stomach pushing against the other organs because you just can’t stop eating. You’ll be bloated, and then it’ll hurt, and the next thing you know—you’re exploding! Literally. Organs flying out of your belly. That can’t be good.”

Taeyong doesn’t really know how to react. He’s never met someone like Sukja. She talks animatedly, but most of her thoughts are nothing child-friendly.

“…I don’t think that’s possible, honestly, no matter how much you eat. You’ll have to go to the toilet.”

She’s a peculiar one. Granted, they have only talked a handful of times, but she always says something so odd that makes Taeyong wonder if she once had been an outcast. He’d seen plenty slashers but he wouldn’t talk about gorey details so nonchalantly like she does with anyone if it wasn’t brought up. And not so graphic.

“It’s been two weeks, right? Have you settled well?”

“Mm.” As well as he can with an extra yet unseen housemate. “But…I wonder if you’re also hearing things at home.”

Sukja tilts her head curiously. “What things?”

“Uh, I think I live with a ghost.” Taeyong waits for her response, if she thinks he’s just bluffing. Sukja looks past his shoulder, her smile turning into a grin before she starts laughing. “…What’s funny?”

“Ghosts are pathetic! Now, I don’t know if you do live with one, but really, don’t mind it. They’re stupid spirits who have nothing better to do. Don’t think about praying it out or putting up cloves of garlic around the house, though. It doesn’t work.”

“How do you know?”

“Years of experience!” She holds the basket in her other hand and waves at him. “I’ll leave you to your reading, then! See you around!”

“…Ghosts are stupid?” Taeyong murmurs to himself as she leaves. “Then what could be more alarming than an untamed spirit?”

Until the sunset he reads, before Taeyong goes back inside to prepare his dinner, wondering what kind of noise he’s going to wake up to in the middle of the night.

/

When he comes to his senses at 3am, Taeyong is not even surprised anymore. Mostly, he’s just annoyed. Staring at the wall, he feels his blanket slowly descend, as if something at the other end is pulling it. Quickly grabbing it before it goes past his waist, Taeyong looks at his feet. “I’m letting you roam around and disturb my sleep but I get cold easily. So leave my blanket alone and play with something else.”

Familiar thuds echo in the living room. Taeyong sits up as he hears his books fall out of the shelf, and groans irritatedly as a plate breaks. “Are you for real? Couldn’t you have waited the next day to do this? And my plates aren’t cheap!”

Brows pulled taut into a frown, Taeyong storms into the living room without bothering to turn any light on. He angrily picks up his books and shoves them back in the shelf before clearing the mess in the kitchen.

His bedroom door slams shut before he could get in.

Is the ghost finally showing its true colors to him? Sick of him not reacting as he should? If that’s the case, he should probably call for a shaman to banish it before it lays a hand on him.

Taeyong grips the handle and slowly opens the door. A puddle has already formed next to his pillow, droplets pattering in sync with the deep rumble of giggling.

He steps in, hands as cold as ice. Taeyong walks towards the puddle and crouches, dipping a finger in it. The water smells earthy as if it came from a stream. Or a river.

Something wet hits his arm. Taeyong swipes a finger over it, expecting it to be a droplet of water, but it’s dark and thicker, and…smells more metallic.

His heart rate picks up, faster than Taeyong is used to. Even faster than is considered normal. Fear simmers in his gut as he imagines what’s waiting for him if he looks up. He will see it, won’t he? It’s going to show itself to him.

Clenching his fists, Taeyong holds his breath as he lifts his gaze.

A pallid face with empty eye sockets spurting blood greets him.

“He—”

Taeyong faints.

“—llo…”

His toes curl, feet lightly kicking away what’s stubbornly tickling his soles. But it’s persistent. Taeyong huffs in annoyance, and snaps his eyes open. His gaze lands on his phone, pinging with an automated message from an online store. He waits for the screen to turn black, and notices that he’s not in his futon but beside it, and he’s lying on the cold, hard floor.

There’s a dull throb of pain in the back of his head. Taeyong then rolls on his back, trying to recall what happened before he slept. The damp spot on the ceiling triggers his memories.

Taeyong hurriedly sits up and scans the room, looking for whatever was tickling his feet. His arm is free of bloodstain, and the puddle of water on the floor is gone as though it was never there. Yet the damp ceiling is pure evidence that he wasn’t dreaming.

It was real. He saw the ghost, he fainted, and somehow, he’s still alive even after that heart stopping revelation. The fear that consumed him together with panic was indescribable. He should have gotten a heart attack from that. It was enough to push him over the edge and kill him.

He hears a loud sniffle. Taeyong whips his head to the door, staring at it. If he thought he was fearless, then he’s unfortunately wrong. He was only brave because he didn’t know what the ghost looked like. If only he could scoop the image of it out of his brain, he would.

Something is in his living room, and he knows what it is. Maybe if he asked nicely, the ghost would understand he’s not a threat. That if the ghosts asks him to leave, then he will do it in a second. His old apartment should still be available. No more countryside villages for him.

But before that, he has to make sure that he and this ghost will not part on bad terms lest it follows him back to his apartment. As Taeyong steps out of his bedroom, trembling, he wonders if he should have at least memorized a Christian prayer, or from any other religion if reciting it would help get rid of the ghost.

He makes out a hunched figure at the corner of the living room close to the main door. Taeyong steps closer, gulping. “…Excuse me,” his voice quivers just like the rest of him. “Are you the…are you the one residing in this house before me…?”

The figure doesn’t speak, doesn’t even lift its head from being buried on its knees, only sniffling once again.

It sounds like it’s crying…?

Taeyong slides his hand on the wall, patting for the switch. When he turns it on, half-expecting the ghost to disappear, the ghost—male ghost—only raises its head for a second to look at him before hiding away again.

He stops in his tracks. That’s… that’s not the face he saw before he fainted. He knows he’d seen something like those ghosts in Japanese movies. The bloody face is gone, and Taeyong saw a pair of glassy eyes that shed no tears.

When his mother was still alive, she told a younger Taeyong that she could feel and hear and talk to ghosts. That she attracted them. She probably passed it down to him.

“Please don’t hurt me—”

“I won’t!” The ghost lifts its head, eyes wide. “I promise! I made a mistake!”

Taeyong takes note of the fear in those eyes. Has the table been flipped? Why is this spirit acting like he’s the one who’s going to spook it to death? It’s fucking ridiculous. “So…you can talk. W-where—you had blood coming out of your eyes earlier—”

“There’s no blood anymore.” The ghost wipes its face and shows its palms to Taeyong. “I was just scaring you.”

No shit. “And…are you seriously crying? Why are you crying? You’re the ghost who has been bugging me since I moved in!”

The ghost winces and sits on its heels, translucent form eerily lifelike. “Kind of, but not really because ghosts cannot cry anymore. I mean I can’t cry, but I am a ghost. I’m dead. Just a floating spirit who has nowhere to go.”

Taeyong is in utter disbelief. Is this actually happening? Is he actually holding a real conversation with the ghost that’s been botherig him for weeks?

“Sorry, sorry!” The ghosts puts its hands together, pleading for forgiveness. “Please don’t be scared? I only make myself look ugly and horrifying when I scare people but this is what I really look like! Handsome and friendly! I promise I won’t do it again! And I can’t hurt you! Look—” Its hand passes through the table. “I can’t even hold or carry stuff! I can only push and kick them. That’s how I mess with your books. And the plate. So sorry…”

Still trembling but braver than before, Taeyong walks up to the ghost and falls to his knees to touch the spirit. His hand passes through the spirit’s body. The ghost looks alive, but Taeyong knows better. He scans it from head to toe, taking in the old and dirty pair of long-sleeved shirt and trousers. The ghost is barefoot.

“You’re really dead…?”

The ghost nods firmly. “My name is Jaehyun. I’ve been haunting this house for over two decades since I died. Sorry about freaking you out, I swear I only wanted to mess with you for a bit because I was so bored! 25 years of no actual human interaction except for spooking them, imagine that. And you were the first one to actually like living here despite the crap I’ve been pulling on you so I thought oh, this guy is amazing. Let me have fun with him. But I went too far,” the ghost sobs. “I thought I killed you!”

Taeyong looks at his hands. They’re barely shaking now. His terror has evaporated, but he still cannot fully believe that he’s not dreaming. This ghost seems like it came straight out of a horror comedy movie.

“Jaehyun, right…?”

“Yup! Jeong Jaehyun. And you’re Lee Taeyong. Don’t be shocked, I heard Mrs. Hwang.”

“Can anyone else see you? Has Mrs. Hwang known all along that you’re here?”

“Eh…” Jaehyun, the comical ghost, shakes his head. “I only show myself to selected people. And not this face, but the bloody version. They don’t hear me if I don’t want them to. But some of these villages used to know who I was. I lived here when I was still alive.”

When he only stares, the ghost sighs.

“Look, Taeyong. I really am sorry. I’ve been stuck in this house for the past 25 years, not because I can’t go or a curse bound me here but because I don’t really know where else to go. Sometimes I roam the villages, but I always come back to Seong. I…used to work for the family here—that tale was pure bullshit, by the way—and when they left, I thought I shouldn’t come with them. Because obviously they wanted to leave their life behind, and I didn’t want to disturb them…”

“So you disturbed me instead.”

Jaehyun scratches his chin. “That was my poor attempt to be friends with you.”

Frowning, Taeyong scoffs at the ghost. “Are you crazy? You’re a ghost and I’m still alive, duh. How will that work?”

“If I am crazy, then you are crazy too for actually talking to me. We’re a match! Usually, people would scream their heads off and run away before I could show them this gorgeous face.”

Taeyong rubs his temple. This ghost is cocky and insufferable. “How did you die? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh! I drowned in the river near this village.”

It’s…whether he wants to admit it or not, Jaehyun is quite amusing. Taeyong thinks he hit his head pretty hard when he fainted. “Sorry about that.”

Jaehyun snorts. “You didn’t kill me. Anyway, I’m sorry again for scaring you. And I’m serious about being friends. Whenever people leave, I die another time. It’s my fault, so I probably shouldn’t feel bad. But I will greatly appreciate it if you agree to hang out with me.”

“Is there a possibility that you will leave me alone if I ask you to? If I ask you to go to some other house?”

“Nope! I’m quite fond of this house. Sentimental value and all that. And I’ve gotten attached to you too, since you’re the first one to stay and talk to me without making a cross with your fingers. You’re so intriguing.”

Intriguing is that last word that Taeyong would use to describe himself. “How?”

“You laughed at Mrs. Hwang after the old woman told you about that absurd tale! Village people like gossiping so much. It’s their favorite form of entertainment. Sooo,” the ghost grins, tilting its head. “What do you say? I promise to stay like this. No more blood and scary shit. No more breaking plates and running in the middle of the night, and pushing your books out of the shelf.”

“And the scratching walls, the damn water puddle, the opening and closing of windows—”

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry for everything!”

Taeyong watches the ghost pout pitifully and closes his eyes for a moment, before opening them. Jaehyun is still there, sticking his tongue out at him.

“Mehrong. You think you could get rid of me like that, huh. You hurt my feelings.”

“…It’s not like that.” Anybody in Taeyong’s place will do everything to prove this is not happening. He pinches his cheeks and glares at the ghost as it giggles, smiling so widely it forms laugh whiskers. It even has dimples. Amazing. “Do not ever scare me like that again, and I won’t call for a shaman. That’s my only condition. You understand? It’s not…getting scared like that is not good for me.”

“Yup!” Jaehyun salutes, oblivious to his reason. “Are we friends now? Please say yes! Please please please? I’ll be a good friend!”

He doesn’t know how sincere the ghost is but Taeyong nods just to stop it from begging, and gets up. “Don’t enter my room. I need to sleep.”

Taeyong goes back to the bedroom. The ghost is no longer then when he takes a peek before closing the door. Then he lies down mechanically, pulling the blanket up his shoulder and stares at the now dry ceiling.

“What the fuck.”

Taeyong parks his car and takes the plastic bags of fish and vegetables with him, nudging the door shut with his elbow. Light scratches, three lines, mar the side of his car from the hood to the trunk. Thinking it was a stain, he tried to rub it off this morning but to no avail. Something had scratched it, probably some animal because he doesn’t remember grazing against another vehicle.

He looks up as Sukja comes out of her house with a full hamper. “Doing the laundry?”

Her eyes light up everytime she sees him. “Good morning, Taeyong! Yes, I’m joining a group of ahjummas at the river. Wanted me to try washing clothes the traditional way. They’re so silly. If you want, you can join us.”

“I washed mine yesterday.”

“I see. Did you go to the market? Smells like a fish in that plastic bag.”

Taeyong glances at it. This girl has one sharp sense of smell. “For my lunch.”

“They sell some of the best meat I’ve ever had. But you know, I can give something better than pork, or chicken. It’ll be fresh and flavorful! Nothing you’ve ever had before, I bet.”

He shrugs and turns on his heel. “Maybe when I run out of money. Have a good day, Sukja.” Taeyong hops over the porch and unlocks the door.

Instantly, he senses the spirit.

For the rest of the night after talking with the ghost, Taeyong didn’t get a wink of sleep. He’s still wary, because who wouldn’t be? But the ghost fulfilled its promise of not bothering him. For the first time since moving to Seong village, Taeyong didn’t wake up to an untidy living room.

Taking the fish and the vegetables out of the plastic bag, he washes them in the sink. Rolling his eyes dramatically when his back is hit with a cold breeze. “It would be nice if you stopped sneaking up on me like that.”

Jaehyun stands next to him, grinning. “Hehe. Just wanted to see if you’d be able to tell I’m here!  Wow, I’m impressed. You really got used to me so easily. Anyway, what are you making?”

“I’m just going to fry this fish and sauté the vegetables with oyster sauce.”

“Sounds good. Seems like you can cook even though I’ve only seen you eat noodles most of the time.”

“Do you want to eat?”

Jaehyun purses his lips as Taeyong removes the fish’s innards. “Ghosts do not feel hunger, so even if I want to eat, I have no reason to. I’ve already forgotten what most food tastes like, and it’s sad ‘cause I loved fried chicken so much.”

Taeyong side-eyes the ghost, punches its stomach with its fist, and takes his hand back when Jaehyun grins at his attempt to touch the spirit again.

“The last thing I expected to do here was befriend a ghost.”

“And I’m not like the others, right?”

“Because you’re handsome. You’ve already told me 34 times.”

“Yes, but no! Let me prove it to you. I can help you cook!”

Taeyong sets the pan on the stove and pours ample cooking oil in it. “You told me last night that you can’t hold things, though.”

“That’s true, but some ghosts, those who’d done a great deal of good deeds when they were still alive, have the ability to obtain a solid body by borrowing energy from humans. Come on,” Jaehyun gestures for him to follow. “I’ll show you.”

Taeyong puts the fish in the pan to start frying one side before tailing Jaehyun. From the door, he watches the ghost glide over to Mrs. Hwang who is hanging freshly washed clothes. Unable to see the spirit, Mrs. Hwang continues to do her task as Jaehyun puts his hand on her shoulder. For a few seconds, Jaehyun simply stands there with his eyes closed, before Mrs. Hwang suddenly collapses. Taeyong quickly takes a step back as Jaehyun rushes back inside the house with a triumphant smile. “What did you do to her…?”

“I just took some of her energy. It takes a talented ghost to be able to do that. Don’t worry, Mrs. Hwang has fainting spells anyway so it’s pretty normal for her to lose consciousness at random times. They won’t suspect anything, plus I didn’t borrow much. She’s going to wake up soon.”

Taeyong watches as Jaehyun’s form gets clearer and more radiant. He gasps as the ghost grabs his hand, and Taeyong feels Jaehyun physically for the first time. He’s tangible, and he’s cold to the touch.

They see Mrs. Hwang’s husband coming out of their house and shaking his head seeing his unconscious wife, before picking her up with a groan and taking her inside.

Jaehyun leads him back to the kitchen.

“So you can do that all this time?”

“Of course. I just rarely do because…what for? To eat again, remind myself what chicken tastes like? We can’t swallow since our body is not real. I’m not even breathing.”

“Does your heart beat?”

“No, but you might see one if you open me up.”

Taeyong thinks of Sukja and gives Jaehyun a knife so the ghost can start peeling the vegetables. “I don’t care what you do as long as it doesn’t hurt anybody. But please don’t take energy from Sukja.”

“The lady that always talks to you? Why not?”

“Because she’s a friend…? And I don’t want you to take advantage of her just to hang out with me.”

Jaehyun’s brows furrow.

While the fish fries, Taeyong helps Jaehyun peel the vegetables so they can chop it after, and sauté it. Every now and then, he steals a glance at the ghost.

He can’t believe this is the same frightening ghost that nearly killed him last night. Jaehyun truly has a handsome face, and it’s a pity he died just like that.

“Don’t be too careless when borrowing energy from someone. Since you lived here too, they might recognize you. It has only been 25 years, right?”

“This is the first time I’ve done it with the sun still up, though.”

“Still. Hide your face if you’re going out, or stay here.”

With Jaehyun’s help, they finish cooking faster. Taeyong brings the food to the low table in the living room and notices that Jaehyun has gone pale and slightly translucent again.

“Mrs. Hwang already woke up.”

“I can tell.” He starts eating, humming as the blend of fried fish and sautéd vegetables bursts in his mouth.

“Is it good?”

If Jaehyun was a dog, he would be wagging his tail now. “You must have been a better cook than me.”

The ghost giggles. “Aww, you’re so sweet. Thank you Taeyong! Oh—how old are you? Should I call you hyung?”

“I’m 28.” Taeyong looks at the ghost suspiciously. “How old were you when you died?”

“I was just 21. So you could be my hyung, but if we add the 25 years, I’d be 46. Damn.” Jaehyun grimaces. “The only thing I’m probably thankful for for being a ghost is my appearance that has been frozen in time. Though I admit I still look slightly older than you. Must be the poverty.”

Taeyong shrugs and spoons more vegetables into his mouth, grabbing one of the magazines to browse while eating. He flips a page, then another, and another, and raises a brow at Jaehyun who hasn’t stopped staring at him. “Go do something else.”

“Alright.” Looking at the pile of magazines, Jaehyun nods his head at the black notebook on top of them. “What’s that?”

Taeyong glances at it. “Uh, it’s my journal.”

“May I read it?”

“It’s personal.” It contains his thoughts since learning about his heart condition. They’re not easy to read, and Taeyong is not proud of them.

“How personal?”

“…You’d find my bucket list there. Some of the things I want to do before I die.”

“Then you must have written a thousand wishes—”

“Not really,” he says quietly, chewing the fish. “Just about 20. I’m still pretending I can add more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m dying, Jaehyun. My heart doesn’t pump as much as the hearts of healthy people. Anything, I could die. That’s what my doctor told me. That’s why I moved away from the heart of the city and went here, because if I’m going to die soon, then I want it to be in my mother’s hometown.”

Jaehyun looks both horrified and guilty. “I could have killed you last night.”

Taeyong waves dismissively. “Don’t think about it anymore. If you did, I wouldn’t hold a grudge against you.”

The ghost still looks like he regrets asking. “Have you started ticking them off? The things on your bucket list? I could do them with you!”

“Really?”

“We’re friends, Taeyong! I want to play with you!”

“Play,” Taeyong repeats, chuckling. “As if you’re 21. You’re 46, sir.”

“But I’m a ghost!” Jaehyun reiterates, determined to spend more time with him. “I cannot grow old. I don’t celebrate birthdays anymore.”

If his new friend insists, then there’s nothing Taeyong can do but agree.

Grinning excitedly, Jaehyun lies down and pillows his head on his arms.  “We should start doing it one at a time. Maybe later? Or tomorrow? Let’s start with something easy—” A newspaper flies to his face as the wind blows particularly hard, cutting him off. Jaehyun moves away from it as it lands where his head was. “Why do you open all the windows?”

“Because I want the light to stream in. And it’s cooler.”

Jaehyun eyes the headline in the newspaper, noticing that it’s an issue from a month ago. “Serial killing?”

“Ahuh. Five people, not at the same time, were reportedly murdered in Namhae. Every single one of the bodies were found in various states of gruesome death. They haven’t caught the criminal yet.”

“Damn. They should hurry up, or else the criminal will find another innocent victim.”

Taeyong nods and continues to eat his lunch, occasionally watching the ghost as it drums its fingers on the floor while humming an old song.

They leave the car at the base of the forest and walk their way up the mountain, with Taeyong carrying his drawing materials. On the way to the mountain, Jaehyun had sat on the roof of his car just for fun as nobody except for Taeyong can see him anyway.

“If I suddenly pass out, what are you gonna do?”

Jaehyun looks at him. “Do you feel dizzy?”

“No, but I don’t really like exercising. Exhaustion is bad for me, so if I get tired and run out of breath, and worst case scenario—might die here, what are you gonna do?”

“Call for help, of course! Why would I let you die?”

Taeyong scratches his cheek, hiking the strap of his bag higher as they walk up the steep forest. “Well, you didn’t really borrow some energy so you can’t even pick me up to take me to the hospital. And I doubt you can drive.”

“Are you expecting me to just cover you with dry leaves? That’s not a cool way to die, Taeyong.”

“You literally drowned,” he deadpans. “Did they find your body?”

Jaehyun’s expression slightly dims. “Sadly, no. I think my body drifted away. Come to think of it—what’s worse than no one ever finding your corpse, hence no one who knew you even found out that you died?”

“Exactly. So you can’t tell me what is and what is not a cool way to die. At least I’d be one with the trees.” Taeyong looks up as a farmer that he recognizes comes down carrying blocks of wood. “Hello, Mr. Han. Good morning.”

“Hello, Taeyong. I heard you talking to someone…?”

“Oh.” Discreetly exchanging looks with the ghost, Taeyong clears his throat to stifle a laugh as Jaehyun doubles over, guffawing. “Actually, I was talking to myself. So it won’t be too quiet while trekking.”

The farmer nods doubtfully. “Is that so… Alright, I have to bring these down. Be careful on your way!”

“He definitely thinks I’m mad,” Taeyong tells Jaehyun as they walk past Mr. Han. “Soon, everybody in the village will hear about the newcomer talking to himself in the woods. Not exactly the kind of image I want to establish here, but I’ve earned myself a ghost for a friend. Nothing is crazier than that.”

“I could borrow some energy next time, and I just have to wear a mask to hide my face until we get out of the village.”

Eventually, they reach the clearing that overlooks the village and the rice fields. Taeyong sits down and takes a few deep breaths before drinking. “What do you want to do while I draw? Don’t just sit there and watch me.”

“Make a ball out of some papers for me, please. I’ll play paper football.”

Figuring he could spare some papers since he’s not going to be drawing everyday, Taeyong tears a few pieces and crumples them up for Jaehyun who giddily gets up to kick the paper ball around. Wisps of hair dancing in the wind, Taeyong picks up his pencil and begins to sketch the scenery before him.

“How long have you been drawing?”

“Since I was a kid. And I actually paint. Took up Arts in college and became a teacher.”

“So can you draw anything you want?”

“I believe so, but it requires utmost concentration. I like painting portraits, and landscapes are a challenge to me. That’s why I added this to my bucket list.”

Jaehyun chases the ball when it rolls far away. “Why are there only three portraits at home, then?”

“Because I already sold them all. Some of them I have given away to colleagues as parting gifts.”

“Do they even know about your sickness?”

Taeyong shakes his head, taking another look at the fields as he sketches. “They wouldn’t have let me go and live alone if they did. I don’t want them to carry the burden of knowing that someone they work with, maybe even see as a friend, is not going to live long.”

“I don’t understand…” Jaehyun squats and pokes the ball left and right since he can’t pick it up. “Why won’t you seek treatment?”’

Smiling as the ghost pushes the ball towards him, Taeyong picks it up and tosses it back to Jaehyun. “Perhaps if I had something to live for. Three years after I started teaching, I quit to take up commissions instead because I felt like I was wasting away as a teacher when I could just be painting for hours. That worked for a while until I got sick of being holed up in my apartment, so I returned to teaching. That’s when the symptoms got worse, but I ignored them. When I got the results from my checkup, I didn’t even feel that bad for myself. I have no family, and I’m tired of my life. I would have only wasted my tears if I cried.”

“I wish I could cry tears.”

“For me or for yourself?”

“For anything that makes me want to cry.” Jaehyun kicks the ball back to him and sits down, looking at the fields. “I didn’t want to die, but I did. I wish I could cry for myself because nobody mourned for me.”

Biting his lip, Taeyong keeps his gaze on his notepad. He doesn’t know how to comfort a ghost. “Tell me anything about your life.”

Thankfully, Jaehyun brightens up. “I was a fisherman! We used to take these big ass buckets to the river because it was so abundant with fish. Like you could find the fattest fish there and it never runs out. Fishing and farming are the most popular jobs here. Without a diploma, I was proud enough to call myself a professional fisherman. But then I died. What a killjoy. Ghosts don’t have proper jobs. We have nothing to brag about.”

“You might have one. You look like this famous movie character called Casper. It’s a cute ghost.”

“Oh, really?” Smirking, Jaehyun teases him. “Then I’ll call myself Casper. The cute little ghost that likes Taeyong hyung.”

Eyes widening, Taeyong’s face warms. He hits Jaehyun with the pencil and grunts as it only passes through the spirit’s body. Jaehyun laughs at him. “Are you on drugs? One, you’re not little. You’re taller than me already even without floating an inch above the ground. And second—”

“Nothing comes second,” Jaehyun interrupts with a giggle. “It’s true that I look like that Casper, that I’m a ghost, and I’m cute. Lastly, I do like you.”

“…Maybe you should shut up because I can’t focus on what I’m doing.”

Jaehyun grins and lies on his stomach, cupping his face with both hands. “Okay. I won’t bother you anymore. This is your first bucket list activity, so we have to make this memorable.”

Taeyong huffs and resumes sketching. “Not that I support this movement, but I think you should borrow some energy more often. I have a face mask you can use. Not all the time, Jaehyun. And not just from Mrs. Hwang. Cut the woman some slack.”

“Believe it or not, I felt bad when I did it! But if that’s what you want, I’ll do it again.”

“Don’t get funny ideas. I just don’t want them to believe I’m a psych ward escapee.”

“Too late. They’re already cooking up stories about how you ran away from your nurse as we speak.” Poking the paper ball closer to himself, Jaehyun plays with it again. “If I were smarter, I would use all the words similar to happiness to tell you about how happy I am that I found a friend. My soul won’t pass on because up until now, I can’t accept what happened to me. I was so young, and I wanted to do a lot of things. I wanted to enjoy life until I was 90.” Looking at him, Jaehyun smiles softly. “So thank you for being friends with me.”

“No biggie.” Taeyong plays it off even though he might feel the same. “You’re a bizarre ghost. I can’t help but get drawn.”

“You just find me adorable. It’s okay, be honest to yourself, hyung.”

Tonguing the inside of his cheek, Taeyong meets the ghost’s eyes. “If you want me to say you’re adorable, you gotta work for it.”

“…That looks pretty, “ Jaehyun says after a beat, and before he even sees the basic sketch of Taeyong’s drawing.

“Thanks.”

Taeyong sighs as his friend stares at him again. Eventually he concentrates while being watched by a ghost, inwardly glad for Jaehyun’s company.

Lying on top of Taeyong’s hanok house, Jaehyun contentedly watches the moon while waiting for the next morning. “You would be prettier if I was watching you as an alive human being. My vision since dying has gotten worse. Now, everything looks yellowish. A jaundiced moon, jaundiced dogs, jaundiced kids. Hmm. So I’m quite baffled why Taeyong looks normal in my eyes. I must be biased.” He chuckles and watches a flock of birds fly across the sky. “He’s my friend, so I will always view him better than anything else. Also, he’s so pretty. Long lashes, big sparkly eyes, lips that are so—well, you get me. You can’t compare to Taeyong. Sorry, moon.”

Climbing down the roof, moving like a spider, Jaehyun pokes his head through the wall of Taeyong’s bedroom. Hearing the soft snores, he sighs and gets down before gliding away. There’s not even a single ghost around aside from him that he can talk to while waiting for Taeyong to wake up.

“Now, what should I do?” Tapping a finger on his lower lip, Jaehyun considers his limited options. When he sees Mr. Han wobbling on his way to an outhouse toilet, Jaehyun grins and follows his newest spook victim.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Mr. Han yawns loudly. “Oh my. I’m not going to drink ever again. My bladder is always full!” Grouching without a care for the sleeping neighbors, the old man stomps to the toilet and locks it before pushing his pants down, sighing in relief.

Standing right outside the toilet, Jaehyun looks at the space atop the door where he can peek inside. He then presses both of his hands on the door, and with enough concentration, he slowly drags them upwards.

Hearing the scratching, Mr. Han scoffs and kicks the door gently to scare away what he assumes to be a stray dog. “Hush! Don’t leave your shit there! I’m not here to pick up shit of some pet that isn’t mine!” Mr. Han finishes and pulls up his pants before filling the wooden dipper with water to flush his urine. The scratching only gets louder. “Oi! Get away!” He splashes water at the bottom of the door and unlocks it but it doesn’t budge. “Huh?” He pushes harder. “What the—”

Snickering, Jaehyun slides his hands up until they reach the top of the door and curls his fingers on it.

Trapped inside the toilet, Mr. Han spits profanities. “Hey! Who the fuck is outside blocking the door?! Let me out! Don’t fuck with me! I will beat you up!”

Jaehyun is not even holding it since he can’t do that. The outhouse toilet is just older than Mr. Han, and its hinges haven’t been oiled for years. “I want to pee.”

“Well then let me out first! Step away from the door!”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then you’re going to regret it when I get out of here!” Balling up his hands, Mr. Han pounds against the door for a while before he feels something wet cling to his hands. Bringing them closer to his face, he catches a whiff of iron and goes rigid, following the trails of blood with his gaze.

The old man falls on his ass on the toilet, mouth falling open as Jaehyun exposes his eyes—one ball dangling out of the socket.

“Boo.”

Screaming his lungs out, Mr. Han gets up and slams his weight against the door with all his might, falling over as it finally opens.

Jaehyun holds his stomach while laughing as Mr. Han trips a few times running back to his house. Then he picks up the scent of urine, jaw dropping as he sees the wet trail from the toilet towards where Mr. Han disappeared. “Oh my god. Scared him so bad he pissed himself. That’s what you get for telling everyone that Taeyong is weird.”

Laughing by himself, Jaehyun turns around and floats away.

Apart from Taeyong’s house in the Seong village, there is only one other place where Jaehyun likes going to even though it brings him bad memories.

His laughter subsides when he sees the gleaming water of the river. Since the weather is nice, and there are no impending storms, it’s calm and still unlike when it swallowed him and never spat him out. Storms will always hit the country, but Jaehyun hopes that the river will not take another life.

A wispy figure moves in his periphery. Jaehyun comes closer, and sees a child ghost sitting by the bank of the river. He smiles as it looks up at him. “Hi, I’m Jaehyun!”

The other ghost blinks rapidly. “You can see me…?”

“We’re the same, can’t you tell? Why are you here?”

The kid hangs his head low. “Oh, nothing. I was aimlessly roaming the city.”

“How old were you?”

“14,” the boy says, playing with dry grass. “I got hit by a speeding car.”

“Fuck reckless drivers. When?”

“Three days ago. I already said goodbye to my parents, so I think I’m ready to go now. That’s all I want, to assure that I’m fine. I don’t want to see them cry for me for a long time.” The boy stands up and looks at him. “My angel is coming to get me. They will pick me up here.”

Jaehyun smiles and pats the boy’s head. A ghost is able to touch and hold another ghost as if they have solid bodies. “I’m happy that you found peace after that untimely death. Not everyone is strong enough to accept their fate.”

“What about you?”

“…I feel like I’m going to miss out on a lot of things if I leave now.”

“Alright, then.” The kid waves at him. “I’ll see you up there next time.”

Unsure when it will be, Jaehyun turns around before he gets tempted to go with the kid. He’s not going to be so cruel as to leave Taeyong without a goodbye.

Coming back home, he passes through the bedroom and sits at the corner to watch Taeyong sleep. Does Taeyong know that he snores? It’s so cute to Jaehyun that Taeyong is spread-eagled, blanket bunched around his feet, with his shirt rolled up exposing his belly button.

Jaehyun hides a smile behind a hand. Taeyong is sleeping so soundly even though there’s a ghost in his house. As a spirit, Jaehyun doesn’t feel cold or hot. Temperature doesn’t exist to him. But something in his chest seems to warm as he thinks about Taeyong who has no sense of self-preservation. Is it a real feeling, or a placebo effect of thinking about his human friend?

Biting his lip, Jaehyun leaves his spot at the corner to lie down beside Taeyong, facing him. Taeyong looks so angelic, and is very kind, that Jaehyun wishes he could make Taeyong feel better. No one deserves to die this young. Taeyong is an amazing artist, and the world needs to see that.

“You know,” he says, whispering. “I wish I could…hold you anytime I want just to…just to assure myself that you’re really here, staying despite a stupid ghost haunting your house. I think it would be nice to hold your hand whenever it pleases me, and tell myself I really got a friend in you. And that I won’t be lonely for a while. I wish you’ll live longer.” Jaehyun looks at Taeyong’s hand and taps a finger on it, only to touch the air.

“I promise to stay until it’s time for the both of us to go.”

A commotion rouses Taeyong at barely 5 in the morning. Wondering what the neighbors are losing their shit over, Taeyong goes out to his porch.

“What happened?!”

“Why is there so much blood?!”

“Heavens!” A woman cries. “Who did this to you?!”

Sensing the panic, he quickly combs his hair and puts his shoes on before jogging towards the huddled neighbors.

He hears a cry of pain just as he reaches them. Taeyong stands on the tip of his toes to see what they’re circling around, and gasps inaudibly.

One of the young farmers, Son Eunho, is sitting against a pile of hollow blocks with tear tracks down his face. He is unable to stand as his ankles profusely bleed. It looks to Taeyong that Eunho’s ankles have been sliced open, but thankfully still intact.

“What—why isn’t anyone helping him?” Looking at them in disbelief, he grabs one of the ahjummas’ towel and ties it around Eunho’s right ankle. Another woman hands him a rug, and Taeyong uses it to put pressure around Eunho’s left ankle to slow the bleeding. He sees a chainsaw from a distance, sprayed with the blood from Eunho’s feet. “Have you called an ambulance?”

“My husband—his father is still asking around for a telephone—”

“Waiting won’t do Eunho any good.” It will take some time for the ambulance to get there, and by the time it will arrive, Taeyong fears that it might be too late. Rushing back home, he grabs his keys and phone.

“Where are you going?” Jaehyun comes through the wall, watching him.

“I’m taking Eunho to the hospital. He’s severely injured.”

“I’ll go with you!”

Car unlocked, Taeyong picks up Eunho and tells the farmer’s parents to get in as he will take them to the hospital.

Jaehyun is already in the passenger seat when he settles in and fastens up.

Looking up the nearest hospital, Taeyong drives as fast as he can without going over the limit. A nurse immediately comes to their aid when he stops in front of the emergency entrance, asking the security to take his car to the parking lot.

Taeyong and Jaehyun follow in worry as they take Eunho on a gurney to the emergency room. When the nurse tells them to wait, Taeyong leads Eunho’s distraught parents to the waiting area.

He sits with Jaehyun, four chairs away from Mrs. Son. “That will require a surgery.”

“How did he get hurt?”

“No idea.” Eunho already looked deathly pale when they arrived. Taeyong hopes to hear good news.

“Ask his parents,” the ghost suggests.

He takes a look at Mrs. Son, and her husband. “Not right now. They look like they won’t be able to talk coherently.”

“Should we go back?”

The old couple looks miserable. Taeyong doesn’t have the heart to just leave them like this. “Maybe when we finally know if Eunho’s okay.” As Mr. Son looks at him in confusion, Taeyong turns to the clock on the wall with a sigh before getting up, walking down the hall with Jaehyun in tow.

“You know what’s funny? There are more ghosts in a hospital than in a cemetery.”

Taeyong finds a vending machine and uses the change in his pocket to get a cup of coffee. “You can see them right now?”

“Yup. There’s three of them on this floor alone. I suppose that’s because most spirits have finally gained peace before they get buried, so the cemetery is ironically more quiet compared to the hospital.”

“As long as I can’t see them and I don’t feel them.” Taeyong picks up his cup and blows on the hot beverage. “Don’t tell me where they are.”

Jaehyun grins at the girl watching Taeyong from the side of the vending machine, and waves at her as he follows Taeyong again. “Should we go to the nursery?”

The duo—or just Taeyong to the ones who can’t see the ghost with him, go around the hospital to kill time. Each ward that they pass by, Taeyong can’t help but picture himself on that single bed with white sheets and white pillows, with tubes attached to his arms. If he sought treatment for his ailing heart, he might get stuck in the hospital too without knowing when he can leave, if he can still leave. That’s not how he wants to live the last days of his life.

After visiting each floor, and earning inquisitive looks from doctors and nurses, Taeyong goes back to the lounge area with Jaehyun. Mr. and Mrs. Son are gone, so he pulls up Netflix and watches a movie with Jaehyun until his phone dies.

Three hours after coming to the hospital, when Jaehyun begins begging for them to go home, Taeyong finally heads to the front desk to ask where a patient called Son Eunho is.

Mr. and Mrs. Son are already sitting by Eunho’s bed when they get to the regular ward.

“They didn’t even tell you where they are. We were stupidly waiting out there,” Jaehyun mumbles. Taeyong doesn’t care. Eunho’s parents are in distress, and he understands it might have slipped their mind.

“Hey,” he says to Eunho, and politely nods at the man’s parents. “How are you feeling?”

“Drowsy. The anesthesia will wear off soon, so they will come back to give me painkillers. They just stitched the wound close and gave me bags of blood. We have to look for a replacement for those.” Eunho weakly smiles at him. “Thank you for going out of your way to take us here. I would have died if not for you.”

Taeyong shrugs, not knowing how to respond. He should probably feel like a hero but he doesn’t. “What exactly happened,” he asks the parents.

Mr. Son holds his son’s hands. “He told us earlier. He was going to cut some logs since we ran out of gas, but the chainsaw wouldn’t work so he left it and went back to find the ax. When he returned, the chainsaw wasn’t where it was. Eunho then heard a whirring before the sharp blade sliced across his ankles.”

“I dropped to the ground the same time the chainsaw skidded past me, and the stray dog that always scavenges around the village barks angrily before running away,” Eunho adds.

“That stray dog must have played with it,” Mrs. Son says with a sniffle, eyes welling up with tears once again. “It must have accidentally stepped on the button, and then ran away in fear when Eunho cried and fell.”

“That’s…very unfortunate.” Taeyong pockets his hands and glances at Jaehyun briefly. “Please get well soon. If you need a ride back, I’m leaving my number at the desk. Just ask the nurse to give me a call.”

“We’ll surely stay here for a few days, but thank you, Taeyong. We’re going to need a ride back.” Mrs. Son stands and hugs him tightly.

After bidding farewell to the family, Taeyong returns to the front desk to leave his contact number for the Sons and heads to the parking lot with Jaehyun. He doesn’t need to look in the backseat to know that he’s going to need to scrub the bloodstain off the floor of his car.

“He has the worst luck of all,” Jaehyun says as he clambers in without even having to open the door. Pros of being a ghost. “Really, a dog nearly dismembering you with a chainsaw?”

Taeyong doesn’t respond. He maneuvers out of the parking lot and drives back to the village, thoughts clouded with questions.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks him as they enter the village, when he sighs for the nth time since leaving the hospital.

Taeyong licks his lips. “Do you believe in bad luck?”

“I used to, but when I died without justice, I thought maybe it was just some construct for people to base their morals on. You will do good because you don’t want to get bad luck, not because you genuinely want to be a good person.”

“What about karma?”

“Semantics, hyung. I only have my own experiences to rely on, and whatever I did when I was still alive, as I was not a perfect person, didn’t warrant a fatal accident. Sure, I stole three corn so I could eat. Why did I have to drown in exchange for that, right?” The ghost shifts in his seat. “Why did you ask?”

“I accidentally ran over a goat on the way to the village the day I moved in. And they said that killing it would bring bad luck. I don’t believe in it, but I’m starting to—”

“Just because of what happened to Eunho? Don’t tell me you’re counting in my haunting your house.”

Taeyong doesn’t. He fainted from fear, yes, but he didn’t get a heart attack. There wasn’t even a tightening in his chest, so Jaehyun didn’t nearly kill him. He is willing to look past that. “A bird also fell on my windshield and I lost control of the wheel in shock the same day, after I paid my way out of trouble. I just feel bad for Eunho.”

“Well don’t. It was not your fault.”

Not wanting to discuss it further, Taeyong keeps quiet. Eunho’s blood has already been cleaned when they drive past the Sons’ house, and it somewhat makes him feel better.

Sukja is standing on his porch when they arrive, trying to peek inside through the window. She quickly turns around and smiles at him.

“Taeyong! I was calling for you but I thought you couldn’t hear me. Where have you been?”

He locks his car and joins her on the porch, pocketing his keys as Jaehyun goes inside the house. “I was at the hospital.”

Worry snatches the smile off of her face. “What? Why? Are you hurt?”

“Did you not hear what happened? Eunho—one of the farmers got his ankles sliced by the chainsaw so I took him and his parents to the hospital. I stayed for a bit. He’s alright now, but I don’t think he will be discharged today. Not in a couple of days, at least.”

“A chainsaw, you say? And that didn’t cut his feet off?”

Taeyong rubs a hand down his face. He wants to sleep, but he doesn’t know how to tell Sukja that he’s not in the mood to talk. “They said the stray dog could’ve turned it on. It wasn’t working initially. The dog must have stomped on the button repeatedly. You know how dogs are when they get curious.”

“No, I mean, it’s quite odd that it didn’t cut his feet off since I assume it’s a razor-sharp chainsaw.” Sukja chuckles, twirling her hair. “Maybe it’s just not his time yet.”

Why does it sound like Sukja wanted Eunho to lose his feet? Taeyong opens his mouth but thinks better of asking. He settles on shrugging instead of trying to understand how Sukja’s head works. “It’ll break his parents’ hearts if something like that happened. Good thing we arrived at the hospital before he ran out of blood. I thought you were going to ask about him…that’s why you’re here.”

“Oh no!” Sukja laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t care about that. It’s my sister’s birthday today, and I miss her. So I wanted to celebrate it with you but I already gave away the seaweed soup I made.”

“Were you…planning to ask me to accompany you somewhere instead?” If she already gave away the food, then why did she still bother to come?

“Uh, I haven’t decided yet. Thought we could talk about it. But I just remembered I got something to do today! Maybe we could go out next time? Just to hang out outside the village!” Sukja brushes past him. “You look tired so I’ll let you rest now. Have a nice day, Taeyong!”

He waits for Sukja to get inside her house before coming in, rubbing his temples. She talks so damn loud. Taeyong suspects she was a megaphone in her past life.

“So, are you the type of person to be friends with the weird kids? I’m a ghost, and that lady is tactless.” Jaehyun sits on the low table, bouncing a leg. “Who in their right mind asks why someone didn’t get hurt enough to die?”

“That did sound like she expected worse.”

“It seemed like she’s confused as to why the chainsaw didn’t successfully cut off Eunho’s feet. Why didn’t he die today?” Jaehyun grumbles. “Why was she asking those questions? What a weirdo.”

Taeyong chucks his shoes off and puts them on the rack at the side of the door. “I mean, I also think she needs to make a habit of filtering her thoughts before talking but I won’t call her weird. There are people who are just very straightforward to the point they come off rude.”

“And to openly say she doesn’t care? I’m a ghost and I’m already dead, but I was worried for that guy. There’s something about that girl that I can’t put my finger on.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says indifferently, going to his bedroom to take his bath towel. “You two having different personalities is what’s bothering you. And it irritates you somehow.”

Jaehyun scowls. “Me? Irritated?”

The ghost certainly doesn’t look pleased. “Are you not? You got annoyed when I told you not to take energy from her, right?” Met with silence as Jaehyun looks away, Taeyong heads to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

The towel is the only thing keeping him from being indecent when he comes out later, and finds a tangible Jaehyun cooking instant noodles.

“I thought ghosts couldn’t eat?”

Jaehyun looks at him and almost drops the lid of the pot. “Why don’t you have clothes on?”

“…Technically, I got a towel on. And I’m naked because I washed up,” Taeyong answers obliviously. “Are you eating that?”

“N-no, I’m making it for you.”

Taeyong catches the way Jaehyun stiffens when he crosses his bare arms. “Whose energy did you borrow this time? And for how long?”

The longer he stands there, the more awkward Jaehyun seems as the ghost pins a glare at the noodles he’s stirring.

“From another ahjumma. Relax, okay? I’m not going to violate that friend of yours.”

Dropping the subject, Taeyong pokes Jaehyun’s side and thanks him for cooking. “But I don’t think I’m hungry?”

“And now you wanna lie to me? You only had coffee at the hospital, and I doubt that satisfied you.”

“Fine, fine. Don’t burn down my little kitchen.” Walking past the ghost to get dressed in the bedroom, Taeyong puts on a shirt and basketball shorts before meeting Jaehyun in the living room where the gold pot of ramyun awaits him.

His stomach rumbles as Jaehyun takes off the lid. Tayeong playfully squints at the ghost’s smug grin. “This smells better than usual.”

“I added more seasoning.”

“Thanks again.” Plugging his phone, Taeyong leaves it to charge before taking his first mouthful of the noodles, slurping it from his chopsticks. “Mm,” he chuckles as Jaehyun smirks cockily. “Okay, I’m hungry. Stop rubbing it on my face. And get me a book. Anything. Maybe you should read something too.”

Jaehyun grabs two random books—one hardbound and one paperback, and gives him the latter.

“How much energy did you borrow?”

“Enough to stay tangible for an hour. I also wanted to ask you to teach me how to use your phone, so…”

“For what?”

“So I can play games too!”

“It’s charging right now. Wait until it’s at 50%.” Taeyong turns the book over, reading the title. The Casket of Time. “How fitting. Can you build things?”

Jaehyun blinks at him. “Like houses?”

“Like a casket. I have no one, Jaehyun. No family, no friends other than you. There’s no use for an expensive coffin and a proper funeral. So, if you know how to do a bit of carpentry, I would like to ask your help to make my own casket. When I die, just put me in there and bury me somewhere decent.”

The ghost stares at him quietly for a moment, before looking down to open the hardbound book on a random page. “That’s a bit morbid, don’t you think? Building your own casket and making your friend bury you.”

Taeyong doesn’t want to dwell on it. Whatever twist his life brings, it will only lead to one thing. “I cannot bury myself. Please?”

“…What kind of casket do you want?”

“I’ll think about it tomorrow. We should get the materials from a hardware store. They certainly have everything we need.”

Going back to his food, Taeyong eats and reads at the same time, ignoring Jaehyun’s heavy gaze.

Jaehyun lounges at the window of Taeyong’s bedroom while the latter dries his hair. “How long are we going to be there?”

Brows knitting, Taeyong grabs the comb from the nightstand. “The nearest construction supply store is 45 minutes away. It’s only 9am so I’m not sure if the rush hour has already died down, but I don’t think we’d be out for too long. We’ll only buy whatever we need and then go back. Do you want to borrow some energy?”

“I want to help you carry all those stuff.”

“Alright. Maybe…take some that can keep you tangible for at least 3 hours? Is that possible?”

The ghost shrugs, already thinking of Mrs. Hwang. “I guess. I’ve never borrowed that much but if I run out, I’ll just take some from anyone at the store?”

Taeyong gives him a look of warning. “Not any of the staff at the store because we need them to help us pick the materials. I’m almost done here, so why don’t you get on with it now?”

Hopping out the window, Jaehyun scans the surroundings for any witness before approaching an unsuspecting Mrs. Hwang. The only other one nearest to Taeyong is Sukja and he has been reminded several times not to use her energy, so Jaehyun settles on a trusted source.

Mentally apologizing to the poor lady, he places his hand over her shoulder and proceeds to suck energy out of her. It takes longer as he needs to stay solid for hours, and when she collapses to the ground next to the basin of kimchi she was making, Jaehyun wastes no time to sprint back to Taeyong.

He solidifies almost instantly.

Having seen the whole thing, Taeyong clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“But she’s always there whenever I need human energy!” says Jaehyun defensively, pouting. “And you won’t allow me to get some from Sukja.”

“Mrs. Hwang is probably 70 years old already. What if it’s detrimental to her?”

“I only borrow energy, Taeyong. That means when I lose solid form, the energy flows back to the person. Moreover, I can only take from healthy people. If Mrs. Hwang has health issues, she won’t be of help to me.”

“Really,” Taeyong says absentmindedly, brushing his hair back. “Then I cannot lend you my energy because of my defective heart? Sorry for being a useless friend, Jaehyun. If it were in pristine condition, I would have lent you as much as you want.”

The human is obviously joking, but Jaehyun doesn’t like the thought of taking from Taeyong. He will only feel worse than he feels for these people whose energy he’s taking, and he will not have fun doing whatever it is he will turn tangible for knowing Taeyong is passed out because of him.

“In the first place, I’m not even planning to borrow from you even if you had a strong heart.”

Looking properly offended, Taeyong playfully smacks his chest before telling him to put the mask on that he readied. It’s only a surgical mask but it will do for now. Right as Jaehyun steps out of the bedroom, Taeyong turns around and nearly collides with him, giving him a stink eye.

“That’s not legal.”

“…Being clothed?”

“Dumbass. Do you wanna be mistaken as a hobo? Why did you have to die in such tattered clothes?”

Remembering what he was doing the day he died, Jaehyun huffs. “Mr. Privileged Guy, I drowned in a river. Do you know what’s under that water? Filthy soil bed. That’s right. My body might have gotten stuck under that.”

“Did your soul not wake up or something before you got trapped in murky dirt?”

“…The way to the river was muddy as hell. I might have slipped once or twice.” Embarrassed at his own clumsiness, Jaehyun childishly stomps as Taeyong walks past him to rummage the closet. “Make sure you’re wearing a suit the day you die!”

“That’s not possible. I can’t be wearing a suit every single day while waiting for my heart to give up on me,” says Taeyong, smirking as he picks out clothes for the ghost.

“You might not even die from a heart attack, you know.”

“Possibly, but it’s not like I’m seeking death.” Taeyong hands him a pair of sweatpants and a faded t-shirt. “Those are big enough for you, but my shoes are all my size except for the sandals. They’re a size bigger. I suppose you can wear that.”

Changing out of his 25 year-old ghost clothing as Taeyong heads out to start the car, Jaehyun steps into the soft sweatpants that fit him just right. The shirt is soft against his skin, and has Taeyong’s scent clinging to it. It’s way too strong that Jaehyun cannot resist the urge to bring the collar up to his nose and get a lungful of the smell.

To have Taeyong’s scent covering him from head to toe makes him feel giddy.

Smiling widely, he finds the sandals and wears them before closing the front door behind him, mood souring immediately when he sees Sukja talking to Taeyong. She’s beaming up at him, standing at least a meter from the rear of the car. In the back of Jaehyun’s mind, he finds that peculiar.

“Sorry, I’m just really craving. But if you don’t find any—” she stops as she sees him. “Who…?”

Taeyong looks at Jaehyun. “Oh—he’s my—”

“I’m Yuno, Taeyong’s boyfriend. You are?”

Surprise glee brightens Sukja’s expression. “Oh wow, you didn’t tell me you have a lover! That’s adorable. Congratulations, Taeyong! And I’m Sukja,” she tells Jaehyun. “I live in that house with the potted plants. Are you two leaving now?”

“…Yeah,” Taeyong says after recovering from shock. “I’ll see if there’s a bakery nearby.”

“Okay, then tell me how much it will be.”

“No need. It won’t probably cost much.”

Jaehyun nods at Sukja as she says goodbye to them, before jogging over to the car and climbing in. “Yuno suits me, doesn’t it?”

“Fasten your seat belt.”

“I never did—”

“You were a spirit the first time.” Taeyong reverses, side-eyeing him. “Not wearing your seat belt is a safety hazard. And it’s illegal.”

Pushing Taeyong’s buttons is not a part of today’s objective so Jaehyun quickly puts his seat belt on, smiling behind the mask. “This is comfortable.”

The silence stretches until they’re finally out of the village, only broken by Taeyong himself. “Why did you tell her we’re boyfriends? I was going to say you were a friend from the city.”

“Because—” I don’t want her thinking she has a chance with you. “—that’s more believable if she sees me again? I reckon we’d have to tick off more of your bucket list together and the villagers are bound to get curious. A friend from the city won’t be staying that long with you in a boring village like ours. And I’m wearing your clothes. Being boyfriends just makes sense.”

“…Huh,” says Taeyong after thinking about it. You got a point.”

Jaehyun bites his lip. “You’re not mad because I’m an ugly boyfriend, right?”

“…Are you fishing for compliments now? You’re the most confident ghost slash person that I know. I was just shocked. And—” As though shyly, Taeyong glances at him. “How do you know I swing that way?”

“Wait…” The ghost grips the seat belt tightly. “You do?”

“I would have denied being boyfriends right away if I were straight.”

Jaehyun thinks that’s one of the best news he’s ever heard in his whole existence. “Well, like I said, dating is just more believable. I didn’t really assume your sexual preferences…or maybe I did. But that wasn’t on purpose. It worked anyway, right? Don’t worry, nobody is homophobic here. You think that those women that live ten houses from yours are sisters? Hah—you won’t believe what I saw them doing last year. But you get me. Nobody will bat an eye.”

This mask is the best human invention, hiding his shit-eating grin from Taeyong.

/

Without a gazillion of cars on the road at the same time, they get to the construction store in under an hour. Having already checked what type of wood is sturdy enough to make a decent casket, Taeyong asks one of the staff for a few pieces of it. Jaehyun helps strap the wood on the roof of the car since it doesn’t fit in the backseat, and arranges the rest of the equipment they bought: hammers, a saw, suitable bolts and nails, wood glue, hinges, brushes, paint, a shovel, and a tape measure.

Looking at the wood that will one day be the box where he will lay Taeyong’s body to rest disheartens Jaehyun but he doesn’t show it. Taeyong has trusted him to do this, so it’s no use voicing out how much it actually saddens him.

As soon as Taeyong comes out of the store with the receipt, Jaehyun gets in the car. “Are we going back now?”

“Yeah, we just need to stop by a sec at a bakery.” Chuckling when his face crumples, Taeyong drives away from the store and makes a U-turn. “Do you know that you have no reflection?”

Checking the side mirror, Jaehyun sees an empty seat and a fastened seat belt. “Did you just notice? I’m still a ghost. A spirit even with a solid body so I really have no reflection.”

“Are you saying that all supernatural entities have no reflection?”

Jaehyun shrugs. He’s never encountered anything other than ghosts. “I’ll place my bet on ghosts being the only ones who cannot reflect in mirrors because we are spirits. Puffs of smoke shaped like a human.”

“Alright. Well I’m not going to place a bet.”

“You’re so boring!”

“Do you even have anything to use to make a bet?”

Annoyed by Taeyong’s smirk, Jaehyun petulantly crosses his arms and sulks even more as they stop by at a bakery.

He shuts his mouth when they get home and Taeyong gives the cake to Sukja, focusing on taking everything they bought inside.

“What did you say to her?”

Taeyong closes the door, shrugging. “That we’re renovating something. Anyway, you should probably get my measurement now so I can write it down.”

Jaehyun doesn’t want to but he grabs the tape measure anyway and asks Taeyong to lie down. Pulling the tape, he stretches it out from Taeyong’s head down to his feet. “Do you have another notebook to—” a sniffle interrupts him. Jaehyun quickly puts the tape measure down as Taeyong sits up, wiping his face. “Hey…”

Silently, Taeyong lets the tears stream down his cheeks. “I found out about my illness two years ago, and I made peace with it five months later. I’m ready to die whenever, I swear, and go wherever I’m meant to. But…” his broken voice shatters something in Jaehyun. “Jaehyun, I’m only 28…”

Glad that he took more energy from Mrs. Hwang than needed, Jaehyun pulls Taeyong in a tight hug and rests his head on top of the human’s head, cold hands rubbing Taeyong’s arm soothingly. “I’ll be here with you until that day, okay? I’ll do my best to make it worthwhile…”

He hopes that day never comes, but the inevitable is hard to dodge.

“Ah fuck, why did I get so emotional? I’m okay, I promise.” Chuckling, Taeyong wraps his arms around Jaehyun before burying his damp face on the ghost’s chest.

Why Jaehyun thinks kissing Taeyong’s forehead is going to cheer his friend up, he’s not sure. But he does anyway, holding his breath when Taeyong looks up at him in surprise.

“Um… best friend things…?” Oh, he’s so fucking dumb.

Taeyong breaks into a smile before pulling out of the hug to retrieve an extra notebook. Jaehyun retakes Taeyong’s measurement and writes it down, feeling rapid, phantom beats of  a dead heart.

A second wish on the bucket list gets ticked off two days later. Taeyong is suddenly in the mood to get drunk.

Jaehyun doesn’t fail to give him a look as if he spoke an alien language. “Are you sure that is what you want? It’s nothing special.”

“Kicking the Bucket bucket lists don’t have to be special. It’s just something you want to do before you lose the chance. Anything is okay, as long as it makes you happy, you know. Even if you only want to sleep for the whole day before you have to sleep forever.”

“Have you ever gotten drunk before?” Jaehyun juggles three paper balls, walking around the living room. “That might worsen your heart condition if you drink too much.”

Not drinking alcohol is neither going to heal his heart, so Taeyong might as well do this because he’s going nowhere but to the end. “I’m a lightweight, so I usually just drink a glass because that’s enough for my whole body to flush. And also because I hate it when people make fun of me for easily getting tipsy.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that part. No one is going to do that here! It’s the countryside. People get hammered all the time, and they don’t mind if you throw up at the side.”

Taeyong shrugs a shoulder and crosses out the second wish. “Okay! I’ll tell everyone that I’m hosting a small party tonight. Come with me to the store so you can make use of those muscles and carry the bottles for me.”

A paper ball drops so Jaehyun stops playing at once, kicking them towards the book shelf. Putting the mask on, he follows Taeyong outside to go house to house, inviting their neighbors to the drinking party. Of course they cannot invite the whole village, so Taeyong only knocks on the door of those he’d already interacted with. It’s up to them if they want to bring others.

Most of them confirm attendance but some value their sleep more than inebriation. And Taeyong understands. A lot of the villagers are already past their prime.

“Did they ask who you are?”

“Nope! They probably already have their own story about who I am.”

News does travel fast in a village as small as Seong. Yuno has only been seen once, yet everybody already knows that he’s Taeyong’s boyfriend.

Arriving at the grocery store, Taeyong makes Jaehyun push a cart. “Since I’m not an alcohol connoisseur, let’s just get a box of each flavor. If we don’t finish everything, since I’m not actually trying to die from alcohol poisoning, we can let the villagers keep them.”

They head to the liquor aisle and are met with a massive selection of booze. Jaehyun gets a box of whatever Taeyong points at. “I’m not going to join the party tonight.”

“Eh? But why?”

“I mean, I won’t borrow anyone’s energy. Mrs. Hwang and her husband are coming, and aside from them, the rest of the villagers are also gigantic tattlers. If somebody faints, they’re not going to be like Mr. Hwang who will suck it up and just take his wife inside the house, no. You’ve seen what happened with Eunho, right? Instead of calling for help, his mother went into hysterics.”

“Anyone would go into hysterics after seeing what happened to their son,” Taeyong says, holding the side of the cart as they move forward. “But I get what you’re saying. Well, if you’re fine just lurking around…”

Jaehyun grins, poking his cheek. “I’ve been lurking for the past 25 years. That’s what ghosts do!”

A girl shopping in front of them gives them a weird look.

Once satisfied with their purchase, Taeyong pays for all the alcohol and makes Jaehyun put them in the trunk and in the backseat.

The day rolls by quickly. When work is finally done, some of the villagers that Taeyong invited come to his house, bringing stools to sit on and food to pass around. His lot is wide so they huddle in front of the house with a small bonfire in the middle to make it exciting.

Standing before the crackling fire, Taeyong awkwardly raises his bottle of peach-flavored soju. “Thank you for coming, everyone. I don’t usually celebrate my birthday but…my boyfriend, who’s sadly not feeling well, convinced me to have some drink with all of you. This isn’t much, I know, and I didn’t even prepare a nice dinner, but I just want all of us to forget our troubles for one night and just let loose. Ah, I’m not used to hosting, as you can see…”

Mrs. Hwang laughs. “Don’t sweat it, Taeyong. We need this after slaving the whole day! Everybody, let’s get drunk!”

Thankful at Mrs. Hwang for livening up the night, Taeyong gets back to his stool as the party commences. Someone has brought a guitar to sing along, playing music for a couple that is coincidentally celebrating their 5^th wedding anniversary today.

Eyeing the ghost sitting on his left on the ground, Taeyong reaches for the bowl of peanuts and munches on them. The bonfire sways with the fanning wind, its reflection dancing in Taeyong’s sparkling eyes.

“Fun Fact: I used to drink with some of these men.”

Taeyong follows Jaehyun’s gaze, watching the three middle-aged men laughing boisterously. “Really?”

“Yeah, and I beat them everytime! I could drink soju like water and I wouldn’t even get a hangover. That’s what they envied about me the most. Aside from my handsomeness, of course.” Jaehyun grins, patting his chest.

Shaking his head, Taeyong takes a swig of his drink and fails to stop a wince. He’d already gotten the one with the lowest alcohol content but he thinks he’ll never get used to it. In the next life, if he gets reincarnated, he wishes to be born an alcohol drinking champion. “Then this is going to taste like fruit juice to you.” Teasingly, he pours it over Jaehyun’s mouth and laughs as the liquid hits the ground.

A couple of the ahjussis and ahjummas whisper among themselves while glancing at him. Since Mr. Han caught him talking to himself, he’s overheard his neighbors at least three times talk about how he is probably mentally unstable. Even Mrs. Hwang joined in but only to excuse his behavior, saying that lonely people like to hold a conversation with themselves.

Being branded a lonely city boy is better than being called a lunatic. If he tells them he has a ghost friend, they’re likely going to avoid him. Someone like Sukja might humor him, but Taeyong doesn’t want to be stuck with only talking to Sukja.

Speaking of her, the girl is back to the cooler to get a new bottle, already finishing her first one in minutes.

Jaehyun nudges his chair when Sukja skips back holding two non-flavored soju.

“…Are those yours alone?”

“Ahuh, I hope you don’t mind me hoarding!”

“That’s hardly hoarding. You can take more if you want, just make sure you can handle it…?”

Sukja giggles, taking a swig. Taeyong feels a little envious. “That’s sweet of you, but back where I came from, nobody wanted to invite me to gatherings like this. They don’t know I can best them in a drinking contest. Make me do a keg stand next time!”

“Whatever,” Jaehyun huffs under his breath.

“Do you wanna see who could drink faster? We should play some games!”

“Ah, to be honest with you, I’m not a drinker. I just really want to let loose with everyone tonight because I’m not going to do this ever again.” Taeyong raises his bottle and takes three gulps just to quell the shame.

“Aw, how dull.” Biting on the bread that one of the ahjummas brought, Sukja chews for a moment before scowling as she sucks on her front teeth. She then tries to pick it with a nail. “Stubborn shit—”

Taeyong hears Jaehyun giggles. “Do you want a toothpick? I can get you one. Or a floss.”

“You want me to floss here?” Sukja scoffs, still trying to remove the food stuck in her teeth. “It’s so unlady-like.”

The ghost proceeds to complain, glaring in her direction. “No one cares about being proper and dainty in a place like this. So irritating! Just give her a mirror, hyung.”

Too lazy to leave his seat, Taeyong sighs and fishes out his phone, turning on the front cam. “Just check it here—”

His phone flies out of his hand as Sukja slaps it away, eyes wide in agitation. “I don’t need that!”

Lips parted in shock, Taeyong picks up his phone and fights the urge to console the fuming ghost beside him. “…Okay, uh, look—I just wanted to help. You didn’t have to bat my hand away like that. I can’t get a phone like this again.”

As if realizing what she just did, Sukja mellows down and cups her forehead, sighing. “Fuck—I’m sorry, Taeyong. It’s just…I hate mirrors. I was bullied when I was a kid. Got called ugly and all the nasty names you could think of.” Guilt radiates off of her. “God, I’m so sorry.”

Seeing no crack on his phone, Taeyong lets it slide. “You must have panicked.”

“It’s the trauma.”

He’s a little pissed, but he doesn’t want to get mad after hearing that. “You’re pretty, Sukja. I wish you eventually forget about what they said. If they saw you right now, they would probably get jealous.”

That puts the smile back on her face. “Taeyong, if your boyfriend was here, then he will get jealous.”

“I’m gay,” he says.

Sukja raises both hands in defense. “Alright, I just don’t wanna get in trouble. ‘Cause I’m aromantic and asexual. I don’t really get attracted to people in that way. My attraction is a bit more complicated.”

Discreetly signalling Jaehyun to calm down, Taeyong gets back in the house to get the toothpicks. He gives them to Sukja and pointedly eyes Jaehyun before watching the couple dancing around the fire as they turn the party into their own wedding reception.

For someone who can’t even bear the bitterness of alcohol, Taeyong outdoes himself for the sake of the bucket list and gets so shitfaced he can’t even walk on his own when everyone decides to call it a night.

Since Sukja cannot carry him, someone else volunteers to bring him inside the house. Taeyong slurs as he practically gets dragged past the living room. “But it’s too early! What time is it, huh? What time is it?” He looks at the man assisting him. “Who are you?”

“I live next to Son Eunho.” The guy smirks down at him in amusement. “Do you really not know my name?”

“No, I don’t know everyone’s name. I’ve—I’ve never talked to you before, have I?”

“Should I put you in bed?”

On a different day, Taeyong would have minded getting ignored. “Ah, if it’s not too much. You can even drop me here.” Laughing, he leans against the man as the former opens to the door to his bedroom. He almost falls face first as he is put down his futon. “My vision is—sir, you got two heads right now.”

The man chuckles, eyes gleaming. “I do. Look, I don’t want to leave you just like this. Alcohol gets you really hot.”

“Shit—I don’t like getting hot. I sweat a lot.”

“Then I’ll help you cool down.”

The guy faints as he lifts the hem of Taeyong’s shirt. “Oi? Don’t sleep here, this is not your house!”

Body temporarily tangible, Jaehyun drags the man by the back of shirt and tosses him to the porch, marching back to Taeyong with a tight expression.

Taeyong perks up. “Jaehyun! Did you just take his energy? You bad boy.”

“Don’t let strangers into your house. He was going to take your shirt off!”

“No, he said it’s to help me cool down!”

The ghost nearly steams from the nose, jaw clenching. “He was taking advantage of you.”

“I don’t know, he seemed nice.” Heavily intoxicated, Taeyong begins moving his arms and legs as if making a snow angelas he grins up at Jaehyun. “But I’m already feeling hot. Help me get out of my clothes, okay? Be a good friend.”

Jaehyun suddenly looks hesitant. “You can just open your shirt.”

“I want to wash up.”

Lips pressed to a thin line, Jaehyun gets down on his knees and pulls Taeyong to sit up. One by one, he unbuttons Taeyong’s shirt.

“My pants too.”

Throat bobbing once, Jaehyun pushes Taeyong’s shirt off of his shoulder before tugging his pants down, gaze pinned to the futon as Taeyong shimmies. “What about your underwear…?”

Taeyong stares at Jaehyun in silence for several seconds before snickering. “I’ll keep it on to protect your eyes, Jaehyun. My ass is flat.”

He asks Jaehyun to guide him to the bathroom, grabbing the towel on their way. Jaehyun makes him sit on the small stool beside the wooden tub.

“You know what, I’ll wash you ‘cause I’m afraid you’ll slip if I leave you alone.”

“Jaehyun has so little faith in meee.”

“You’re going to die from a heart attack, not cracking your skull open in the bathroom.”

Taeyong whines, gripping the edge of the tub. “You hate Sukja but you sound like her. So violent!”

“I don’t hate her.” Picking up the dipper, Jaehyun fills it with water and pours it over Taeyong, rolling his eyes as the latter shivers. “And I don’t sound like her.”

“Okay, whatever floats your boat. We should have boiled some water…” As Jaehyun makes to leave, Taeyong quickly grabs the back of his shirt. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me alone. I’ll slip.” He won’t, but he’s feeling particularly clingy tonight. Wanting to be taken care of.

Jaehyun looks at him in confusion. “Your butt is shivering from the cold.”

“My butt? My butt is flat, I told you. Do you wanna see it?” Giggling as Jaehyun sputters, Taeyong doesn’t stop teasing. “You might get disappointed. It’s really small and it won’t jiggle. Do ghosts like butts or boobs more? I don’t have boobs.”

Another reason that Taeyong dislikes alcohol is it turns him into a fucking clown. He doesn’t realize that right now.

“…I don’t like boobs.”

“Really?” Emboldened, Taeyong rakes his gaze up and down Jaehyun. “Do you like boys?”

Jaehyun starts pouring water over him again. “What if I say yes?”

“Oooh,” Taeyong exclaims shakily, hugging himself for warmth. “That’s why you wanted to be my friend so bad. I get it, I get it. I’m pretty, you’re handsome. We match. We would have looked good together if you were alive! Do you think I’m sexy?”

The ghost slips but quickly holds himself up, glaring as Taeyong giggles even louder. “I won’t even answer that.”

Lower lip jutting out, Taeyong cutely hunches against the tub like a sulking cat. “No fair. I think you’re sexy. I’m an honest friend, Jaehyun. If you want me to hype you up, I will! If you have a crush on another ghost, I’ll set you two up. I can be a good wingman…”

“Shut up.”

Taeyong giggles irritatingly. “As much as I think I’m a good wingman, I suck at handling my own relationships. I’ve had four boyfriends! Three of them serious, one of them a fling. And they all left me. Because I’m not adventurous enough, whatever that meant. Ah—I think they meant I’m not wild enough in bed! What’s wrong with being vanilla? They’re just too much.” The butt of the dipper hits his crown. “Ouch! Why did you hit me?!”

Jaehyun doesn’t even pretend to be guilty, handing him the mouthwash. “My hand slipped.”

Taeyong gargles for half a minute before spitting it out on the floor, refusing to soap up. “Don’t be like me, Jaehyun! Go court a fellow ghost. Don’t be single all your ghost life. Or if you want,” he wiggles his brows, “you should sweep me off my feet.”

He winces, crying out indignantly as Jaehyun grips his arm. “Whyyy!”

The ghost tightens his grip. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Sensing the seriousness in Jaehyun’s tone, Taeyong shakes his head. “Ow ow ow! Okay, okay!” As Jaehyun releases his arm, Taeyong quickly soothes it with a rub. “Why are you so mean?! Bad ghost. Bad friend.”

“Don’t provoke me, Taeyong,” Jaehyun warns as he puts the mouthwash next to the tub of toothpaste. “I’ll give you a heart attack and you can’t blame me if you die.”

“Eh…?”

“Nothing.”

Eyes crinkling as he grins again, Taeyong snickers. “You’re so silly. I think I’m done now! Please wrap the towel around me…”

After drying with Jaehyun’s help, Taeyong wraps the towel around his waist and steps out of his underwear, kicking it to the corner before asking Jaehyun to help him back to the bedroom. He still feels dizzy, but his vision isn’t swimming anymore.

He puts on the clothes that Jaehyun hands him and plops down his futon, hair still wet. “I’m so sleepy…”

Soon as he closes his eyes, Taeyong gets lulled to sleep by the amount of alcohol sloshing in his system. Dead to the world, he doesn’t feel Jaehyun lying down next to him and holding his hand.

“I wish you were sober.”

Flushing the toilet, Taeyong steps out of the bathroom and washes his hands in the kitchen sink with his brows threatening to glue together from how hard he’s frowning. It’s way too early to be awake, and the sun isn’t even out yet. But his stomach had churned in his sleep, waking him with the unstoppable urge to vomit.

He already made tea and drank two cups of it to combat the headache. The throbbing has dulled, but he keeps peeing so he can’t even get some sleep.

He hasn’t seen Jaehyun since waking, but Taeyong is not worried. The ghost is probably somewhere out there haunting houses. Taeyong specifically told him not to spook anyone in Seong village more than once…or twice if he doesn’t want them to call for a shaman.

Running the cup under the water, Taeyong washes it thoroughly and puts it away before going to the living room to open the windows. If he can’t go back to sleep, he might as well do some reading and get fresh air.

A scream reverberates in the village, shattering the early morning silence.

“Eunho!”

Stomach dropping, Taeyong grabs his keys in case the family needs his help. Eunho cannot walk properly yet, and must have fallen and aggravated his injuries.

He sprints out of the house just as several villagers come to see what’s happening. Once again, just like when Eunho slashed his ankles, they are all compressed together when Taeyong gets there. He hears Mrs. Son’s gibberish cries, and feels his heart stop.

At the back of their house, in the tool shed, Mr. and Mrs. Son kneel over Eunho’s corpse.

Taeyong covers his mouth in horror at what he sees. An amalgamation of shock, disgust, and terror ring in the air as they stare at Eunho lying in his own pool of blood, stomach slashed open, organs taken out. Slobs of flesh and specks of blood paint the area around his corpse. No doubt, that those fleshy bits might be the young man’s innards.

His gut flips once again but no longer from drunkenness. Taeyong sees the same chainsaw by Eunho’s feet, completely drenched in blood. This cannot be the work of a stray dog anymore. Perhaps it has never been the dog.

And Eunho taking his own life gruesomely doesn’t add up. The man was almost crippled. How could he leave his bed and come to the tool shed without waking his parents?

Taeyong doesn’t know how long he stands there with everyone, revolted at the scene. Frozen in place, he wonders who could have done this, if Eunho had wronged someone, if their family owed someone a lot of money. The sound of siren—both from an ambulance and the police—breaks his trance.

He stays as they bag Eunho’s body, as well as the slivers of flesh before forcing his legs to walk away with a face so pale and a heart anxiously drumming in his chest.

His gaze darts towards Sukja as she watches from her front door with a look of…vague fascination as the ambulance leaves.

“Did he trip and fall again?”

“…He’s dead. Someone…I think someone killed him.”

“Is that what the police are suspecting?”

Taeyong looks at the police car. “That’s what everyone is suspecting. If you saw it, you wouldn’t think of other—” he turns back to her as she chuckles. “Why are you laughing?”

Sukja clears her throat but the smile remains on her face. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at what happened. It’s sad, and I’ll probably go to the funeral. But back where I came from, a lot of things like this happened too. Yet the criminal didn’t get caught. The police are unreliable. They never do their job right. I guess…I’m just laughing at how those men in uniform are still pretending to be trustworthy.”

Regardless, it’s still disrespectful and unbelievably rude to find anything funny amidst a tragic event. Taeyong frowns. “You never told me where you came from.”

“Have I not?” She checks her nails in boredom, the shock and fear that everyone who has already seen and heard about Eunho’s passing missing in her actions. “I’m from Namhae. And I took a break because the unresolved killings were stressing me out. I thought Andong would be different.”

A police officer barks at the villagers to not enter and contaminate the crime scene.

“You look sick, Taeyong. Would you like to come in for a bit? I made hangover soup!”

If Jaehyun sees him coming over to Sukja’s house, the ghost is surely going to drag him back. But Jaehyun is still missing, and Taeyong doesn’t want to be alone right now.

Sukja welcomes him to her house for the first time. “You can sit anywhere! I’ll just reheat it.”

Left alone in the common room, Taeyong sits on the floor and looks around. It’s a minimally decorated house, but nicer than his will ever be. He notes the glaring lack of glassy ornaments and remembers Sukja’s story. She must really despise seeing herself.

He takes one of the bowls as she returns, as well as the paper cup of water. “Thank you. I had tea earlier but I still feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Good thing I made this then!”

Could she please stop being so damn chirpy? Taeyong’s skull is breaking again, and he cannot get rid of the image of Eunho’s open stomach.

Taeyong takes a sip of the broth and sighs. “It’s good.”

Sukja smiles, and drinks her soup quietly. At least she doesn’t eat like a goat. “Where’s your boyfriend?” She asks a moment after. “Still not feeling well?”

“…That guy gets sick easily. Typically, he likes to stay in bed for days. He’s not even very sociable in the first place, preferring to be inside the house most of the time. Not that he doesn’t want to talk to anyone,” Taeyong lies. “Yuno is an introvert and loves being alone. He’ll come out when he wants to.”

“Much like a ghost, huh.”

He looks at her, and Sukja chuckles as she puts her spoon down.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. Don’t ghosts do that? Sometimes they want you to feel their presence, but most of the time it feels like they’re not around. And you don’t know when they’re going to bother you. So he reminds me of a ghost. It’s funny ‘cause you said there was a ghost in your house.”

“That’s…” Taeyong digs his head for a smart excuse. “I was just struggling to get settled and couldn’t sleep properly. Anyway, I don’t know much about ghosts.”

“Me neither. I just know things I’ve heard people say. And according to them, some ghosts are strong enough to possess humans if they really want to own their body. Because it’s easier to attack us with a solid body, right?” Sukja grins toothily. “Wouldn’t it be hilarious if your boyfriend was actually a ghost who only took someone’s body because he really wanted to date you?”

“…Rather than funny, I think it would be terrifying.”

“To find out that he might be a ghost, or that he doesn’t really exist and that you have been hallucinating all this time?”

Taeyong pushes his spoon around the bowl, thinking. More than anything, it will destroy him to realize that the reason for his current happiness is nothing but a figment of imagination. “…Then all of us in this village are hallucinating.”

Sukja snorts. “Maybe you’re crazy, and maybe I can see things normal people don’t.”

“…Like being able to communicate with spirits?” His soup is starting to get cold. Taeyong takes a few more sips. “I…I can do that, I think. My mother was a medium. There is a possibility that I might have inherited her ability to talk with the unseen.”

Drinking her water slowly, Sukja’s eyes twinkle over the rim. “Interesting.”

Taeyong doesn’t bother replying and simply drinks his soup until it’s gone. He wants to leave and go back to sleep, because the longer he stays in Sukja’s house, the more vivid Eunho’s body gets in his memory.

Mr. and Mrs. Son opts to cremate their son’s body and hold a funeral at the homestead that will last for three days as per tradition. All those who will pay their respects must wear black to symbolize the mourning of the dead.

With only one black suit, Taeyong gets Jaehyun something to wear from a bargain shop. When the evening comes, he and Jaehyun head to the homestead together with Sukja.

A lot of the villagers are already there. Drinking, eating, chatting and playing cards. Taeyong finds Mrs. Son kneeling before Eunho’s urn hugging her son’s portrait, and walks up to her with a bouquet of Marigolds. “Mrs. Son, my condolences.”

The woman smiles at him, eyes swollen red. “Thank you, Taeyong. Are those for him? You may put it on the altar.

He leaves it next to the urn and gives the woman a hug, greeting Mr. Son who is drinking with guests before going over to the table that Jaehyun and Sukja have occupied. “Did you even greet his parents?”

“I already said my condolences this morning.” Sukja glances at Eunho’s urn. “It’d be annoyingly redundant to say it again. They get it the first time.”

Of course, Jaehyun doesn’t pass up on the chance to prove her wrong. “It won’t hurt to do it again. They’re going to hold the funeral for two more days, and they just lost their son forever.”

In lieu of answering, Sukja takes a cheese bread from the tray and starts eating.

Jaehyun turns to Taeyong. “What did the police say?”

Hands clasped together, Taeyong observes the guests. “I haven’t asked yet but it might take a while. There are no cameras, and no witnesses of Eunho going outside or getting dragged to the tool shed by someone. His parents should have heard something, but it’s like they were spelled to a deep sleep.”

“Maybe they got drugged? Eunho wasn’t suicidal, was he?”

“No idea. And I really don’t think I should ask them that. Let’s just wait for the investigation—”

“Which will lead to nothing,” Sukja says, eyes on her cheese bread. “Because the police sucks.”

Jaehyun huffs. “Not all of them. If they all sucked, then the jails wouldn’t be filled with prisoners.”

“Lawyers put criminals in jail, not the police.”

“First of all, there won’t be court hearings if the police didn’t catch anyone.”

“And neither of you are the police or the lawyers so just quit it.” Taeyong shouldn’t have let Sukja come with them, knowing how much Jaehyun dislikes her. “None of us even saw how it happened. What we should do right now is support his parents and hope that the case gets solved as soon as possible.”

Seeing how guilty Jaehyun looks for arguing with Jaehyun, Taeyong unclasps his hand to reach for the ghost’s, until Sukja starts ranting about the pesky mosquitoes in her house.

There are not many relatives of the Son family, so by the time midnight strikes, there are roughly 10 people left in the homestead, including Taeyong, Jaehyun, and Sukja. Despite that, the group of men behind their table are loud enough to make up for it as they tirelessly play another game of cards.

Returning to their table with another cup of instant coffee, Taeyong scolds Jaehyun for playing with the crackers. “Just borrow some cards.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Then clean it up. Don’t give Mr. and Mrs. Son more things to do.”

Blowing on his coffee, Taeyong watches Eunho’s parents as they silently weep before the altar. On the third day of the funeral, they will recall the good deeds that Eunho had done in his life so that everyone will remember Eunho positively.

Eunho seemed like a good person, always greeting the villagers in the morning.

“If I wanted a proper funeral, how many of them would speak up to say good things about me?”

Jaehyun carefully puts the fourth cracker on top of the ‘walls’ to complete the cracker house. “I’m not a fortune teller, but one thing is for sure: I’ll talk about how kind and beautiful you are.”

Taeyong puts his cup down lest he spills it and glares at the ghost. “The last bit is unnecessary. And I’m not even that kind.”

“Okay, but that’s what I want to say about you. What are you gonna do, rise from the dead and smack me?”

“Who’s dying?” Sukja, who’d been previously dozing off, lifts her head and looks at them sleepily.

Taeyong would like to keep it between him and Jaehyun, but he knows by now that Sukja is not a sentimental person and will not be kicking up a fuss if she hears about his sickness.

“I’m actually sick, and we have already planned how I want to be buried. My heart is fucking up and it might stop anytime soon.”

As expected, the girl doesn’t react like normal people do. She stares at him curiously. “And you’re not afraid? You don’t seem worried to me.”

“It’s been over two years since I found out. I’m 80% ready for it.”

“Oh…” Sukja’s gaze shifts between him and Jaehyun. “But no one knows what the future holds. Tomorrow is another day, and no one can tell how it’s going to unfold.”

“And?”

“What if you die from something else?” Of course, she’s not going to suggest getting medical help. That’s now where Sukja’s priorities lie. “A gunshot? A hit n’ run? What if you get slaughtered? You’ve prepared yourself for heart failure, but is it still fine with you to die out there from something you didn’t expect?”

Taeyong scoffs, stirring his coffee. “Does anybody here own a gun? A hit n’ run is unlikely because if I’m going to be on the road, then I’ll be inside my car. Without an enemy, no one can slaughter me.”

“Eunho didn’t have one too.”

“You don’t know that,” Jaehyun tells her, getting riled up once again. “Why are you asking him these things? Talking about my boyfriend’s death so casually like you’re asking about the economy.”

“It’s valid though? Because they say that the souls of those who died unnaturally will find it hard to pass on, that they might get miserably stuck in here for the rest of eternity.”

Jaehyun looks at the crackers. “And that’s none of your business, is it?”

“Yuno.” Taeyong sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to listen to either of you talk again.”

Grimacing, Sukja lowers her head. “Sorry, I was just—I really have a problem with speaking my thoughts out loud.”

Taeyong feels so tired all of a sudden. “Forget it. It’s my fault for bringing it up.”

The conversation dies down after that. Not a huge fan of tense conversations, Taeyong suggests going home. The three of them say goodbye to Eunho’s parents, promising to return tomorrow.

Yet just as they’re heading for the door, the lights flicker. They stop in their tracks as two of the flower wreaths fall over as though something knocked it off which prompts Mrs. Son to sob uncontrollably while some of the candles near Eunho’s urn die out from the sudden gust of wind.

“Eunho!” She wails, cradling her son’s portrait. “My son, don’t leave me! Don’t leave me just yet! Why did you have to go?! What happened to you?!”

Frantically, the guests fix the wreaths and light up the candles. Some of them look around the room nervously, murmuring as the wind gets stronger.

“Let’s go,” Sukja tugs on Taeyong’s sleeve. “I don’t really want to stay back…”

Grasping Jaehyun’s elbow, Taeyong walks alongside the ghost while Mrs. Son cries like a possessed woman, and eventually parts with Sukja. Immediately as they enter the house, he locks the doors and the windows.

“Was there another ghost? Was it Eunho’s spirit?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I didn’t see anything, but I felt some presence, and it was upset. Nothing like this has happened in the village before despite the numerous spirits that have passed through this place. Even when I died and nobody found my body, I didn’t lash out.”

“Fuck—” Taeyong paces back and forth. “It’s me, isn’t it? I’m the bad luck.”

“That’s not even true. You know that’s illogical. You accidentally running over a goat won’t be the cause of Eunho’s murder.”

Taeyong groans into his hands and brushes past Jaehyun, taking off his suit jacket. “I’m just tired. When are you going to turn back?”

“Any minute now.”

Nodding, he starts unbuttoning his shirt. Taeyong belatedly realizes that Jaehyun is standing at the end of the hallway and turns to close the door, but the ghost is already gone.

By the third day, Eunho’s urn has been buried and the unexplainable event that took place on the first night didn’t happen again. Jaehyun said it must not be Eunho, and could probably be another malicious spirit that only wanted to steal the show.

So Taeyong gets a reprieve from blaming himself for the misfortunes that have been occuring in the village.

Jaehyun asks him to tick off another wish on the bucket list and today, they want to try paddleboating. Coincidentally, there’s a manmade recreational lake in Andong. Expecting to be there for a while, Jaehyun borrows some energy from Mrs. Hwang once again before they get changed and leave for the park.

Taeyong would’ve liked to steal glances at Jaehyun through the mirror if the ghost had a reflection. He wouldn’t have to risk looking away from the road for too long and toeing the line of another roadkill.

The cheery park is brimming with families, friends and couples when they arrive. Seeing the row of snack stalls, Taeyong gets himself a box of popcorn before following Jaehyun towards the massive lake.

They pay for a 30-minute ride and get into a green paddleboat, assisted by one of the helpers. Taeyong puts his popcorn between his legs and steps on the pedal in sync with Jaehyun as the boat is unlatched from the dock.

“Back then, this was just a lake and nobody really hung around the park until they built the playground and allowed food vendors to put up their stalls here.”

“I would’ve questioned the reason of creating this manmade lake if they didn’t do something about it.” Taeyong watches the other paddleboaters while eating his popcorn. “This is my first time paddleboating but when I was young, like 6 or 7, my family spent our Christmas overseas and we got on this really unstable boat that looked like it would capsize. It was scary but I remember being delighted since there were a lot of fish swimming around us.”

Jaehyun dips his fingers in the water. “I can’t see a lot of fish. They should clean the lake soon; that could be thick moss and dirt underwater.”

“Then don’t dip your hand in it if it’s dirty!”

“So?” The ghost grins, shaking the water off of his hand. “I won’t catch anything.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, demanding Jaehyun to pedal faster. “Anyway, I loved the water so much that I would always ask my dad to take me to the pool. If I didn’t love painting so much, I would have pursued being an athlete. But it won’t work out in the end will it?”

“Why not?”

“I’d still get diagnosed with heart failure, and then I would have to stop swimming. At least I can still paint.”

“So you don’t play any other sport?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “I have weak stamina. Gets tired easily, even more now that my heart canno pump enough blood.” He turns to Jaehyun as the latter grows quiet, wincing as the paddleboat on their side sprays him. “Are you not having fun? We could go biking instead.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “No, I like this! I’ve never done this before, and I’d never be able to if not for you. The water just makes me feel a little nervous. Which is ironic, right? Because I was a fisherman.” Sighing, he looks down as he fidgets. “But since I drowned, I’ve only gone to the river a handful of times. Do you know that this lake is eight feet deep? Doesn’t seem to be that much but if you don’t know how to swim, you’re dead.”

“How did you drown? I mean, did you slip or something?”

“It was storming that day. They advised us not to go to the river but I was stubborn. Wanted to get more fish so I could earn more. I supported myself, by the way. My parents left me at a church when I was still a baby, then the orphanage released me into the wild when I got older.” Jaehyun scrunches his nose. “So I didn’t have much money. I worked for the family that owned your house and there used to be a small outhouse room in the back for me but they removed it a month after I went missing.”

Patiently waiting for the ghost to continue, Taeyong remains quiet.

“I was about to head back. It was difficult to catch some fish so after getting four, I said fuck it, this is enough. But I dropped my rod and it got washed away. I couldn’t afford a new one so I went down and chased it. The current was too strong and the river was about to overflow. I lost my footing and the next thing I knew, I was walking into the village confused as hell because nobody seemed to see me. They all looked past me and they couldn’t hear my calls.”

Heart constricting for his friend, Taeyong holds Jaehyun’s hand and gently squeezes it. “It must have been traumatizing. Sorry, I should have asked you first if you wanted to do something else. Something that doesn’t involve this much water.”

Jaehyun looks at him funny. “But this is about you, not me. I’m just here as a good friend who wants to make your day better and is terribly failing to do so.”

“Do I look miserable? Being with you already makes my day, even if we’re just lounging at home practically doing nothing.”

“Even when people catch you talking to yourself?”

Taeyong scoffs, pinching Jaehyun’s cheek. How could a ghost be so adorable? “Who gives a shit what they think?”

Cracking up, Jaehyun stands. “Continue pedaling. I’ll show you the proper posture before throwing your fish hook into the water to get it as far as you can.”

Fishing is not in his bucket list but Taeyong could add a day for it. He’s got a mentor, so he might as well learn something new. “Are you asking me to go fishing with you next time?”

Winking like a casanova, Jaehyun rests one foot on the edge and acts as if holding a rod. “So this is the hook, right? Imagine a hook, hyung. There’s a live worm there. Stretch your arms like this to get the momentum—”

It’s tiring to pedal alone but Taeyong doesn’t tell Jaehyun to sit down, laughing at the demonstration.

“Then swing it as smoothly as you can! You see that?!” Jaehyun gazes at the water, squinting. “You saw where the imaginary hook fell?!”

Giggling at the ghost’s antics, Taeyong doesn’t notice the incoming boat behind them being pedalled by overzealous teens until its hood hits their boat’s rear, sending Taeyong lurching in his seat.

Quickly gripping the bar on his side, Taeyong keeps himself from sliding down. He’s safe and secured.

Jaehyun, not so much.

“Jaehyun!”

The water splashes at him as Jaehyun falls out of the boat and into the lake. Taeyong gets up and calls for the lifeguard as he walks over to the other side of the paddleboat. Jaehyun isn’t resurfacing and he cannot see through the dark water.

The lifeguard sees them but Taeyong can’t stay still. Without thinking twice, he jumps into the water and flails around to find Jaehyun, until his hand hits the ghost’s chest. Grabbing the front of Jaehyun’s shirt, he drags them back to the surface and gasps, while Jaehyun struggles to keep himself afloat.

The lifeguard tosses a ring at them. Taeyong takes it and keeps his eyes on Jaehyun as they get pulled to the side, where two helpers aside from the lifeguard are waiting with towels and a first aid kit.

“Sir, are you okay?”

“No need to check up on me, I’m not hurt. I—” Taeyong accepts the towel and looks at Jaehyun who’s shaking as he holds his head in his hands. “Jaehyun—are you alright?”

His friend looks at him in absolute mortification.”I wouldn’t drown again, you know that. B-but I can’t swim. It felt like—it felt like 25 years ago—”

It felt like dying again.

Taeyong gets up, pulling Jaehyun with him. “We’re fine, I promise. Sorry about the popcorn in the boat.” Walking past the staff, they go back to the parking lot dripping wet with the towels around their shoulders. “Get in. Don’t worry about wetting the seat.”

Teeth chattering, Jaehyun fastens his seat belt and tugs the towel closer. “Your phone…”

“It’s water resistant. Are you sure you’re okay?” Taeyong’s worry pierces through the roof. “You’re shaking so much—”

“From fear. I don’t feel cold. Can we…can we go back home now, please?”

Wanting Jaehyun to feel better soon, Taeyong asks no more and drives away from the park.

Jaehyun isn’t shaking as much as he was when they get home. Seeing their soaked state, Sukja merely nods at them before resuming her conversation with another villager.

Water drips all over the floor and they get inside. Taeyong takes Jaehyun’s towel and rubs the ghost’s hair, before cupping Jaehyun’s cheeks. “We’re home now. No water, no drowning. See? Nothing to scare my cute little Casper.”

Jaehyun’s lip wobbles. Resting his head on Taeyong’s shoulder, he grips the back of Taeyong’s shirt and whimpers. “Sorry for ruining your day.”

“Shhh.It’s fine,” Taeyong murmurs, hugging Jaehyun as tight as he can. “I’m here. I’m with you.” And he means it.

Lying on his stomach on the floor with his chin perched on a hand, Jaehyun happily kicks his legs while blowing open the pages of a book. Hearing the rooster’s crow, he looks at the wall clock and wonders why Taeyong hasn’t woken up yet. It’s already 8:30. Taeyong never stays in bed past 8, wanting to start his day by cleaning before sitting on the porch with a book and a cup of coffee.

Jaehyun is skimming a paragraph when he hears a pained groan from the bedroom. In a second, he’s passing through the door to see Taeyong roll on his back with a frown, eyes still shut as he tugs the blanket up to his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything hurts. My whole body hurts.”

“D-did you hit the boat yesterday?”

Taeyong shakes his head, opening his eyes for a bit before sighing in irritation. “I feel so fucking cold.”

“Oh—” Jaehyun shuts the window. “You might have caught a fever. What do you need?”

“I don’t know. Don’t have any medicine.”

Worrying his lip, Jaehyun peeks outside and sees a kid playing with a basketball behind Taeyong’s house. That kid will do for now since Mrs. Hwang isn’t outside.

He takes some energy from the boy and hurries back inside just as the boy’s mother finds her son with his head resting on the ball, fast asleep.

“Are you hungry?” Jaehyun touches Taeyong’s forehead. “I’ll cook you something.”

Taeyong lies on his side with a groan, the side of his face buried into the pillow. “Don’t wanna eat…”

That’s what everyone with a fever always says, but food is what they need the most. Jaehyun goes to the kitchen and starts cooking instant noodles. He feels bad, so fucking bad. He’s the reason why Taeyong is sick.

While waiting for the noodles to soften, he puts some of the hot water into the basin and gets a small towel from the closet before soaking it, wringing the extra water. Gently, he wipes Taeyong’s face and the side of his neck.

“Do you want to wash up instead?”

“I can’t even move…”

“Okay. Try to sleep again, hm? I’ll just—” A knock on the door cuts him. “Are you expecting a guest?”

Taeyong huffs and closes his eyes tightly.

Jaehyun puts the towel in the basin, turns off the stove in the meantime before getting the door. His face falls as he sees Sukja with a basket of cabbages. “Uh, yes?”

“Good morning, Yuno!” She eyes his dirty clothes but doesn’t comment. “Is Taeyong already awake?”

“He’s actually sick.”

“Oh… I want to give him these cabbages that I got for a cheaper price at the market. How sick is he?” The girl doesn’t wait for his answer and pushes past him, walking inside the house as if she owns it.

“Hey—” Jaehyun follows her. “I didn’t even invite you!”

She plays deaf, putting the cabbages down as she steps foot into Taeyong’s bedroom, sitting away from the mirror hanging on the opposite wall before cupping Taeyong’s forehead. “He’s burning up. He might go delirious if it doesn’t go down. What did you give him?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jaehyun inwardly seethes. “He doesn’t want to eat but I’m about to make him noodles. There are no medicines around so I’m trying to wipe him down—” his jaw hits the floor when she grabs the towel and presumptuously wipes Taeyong. “Excuse me?”

Sukja smiles.  “I’m his friend and I’m worried about him too, Yuno.” As if adding more to his roster of offense, Sukja pulls the blanket down and hikes Taeyong’s shirt so she can wipe down his torso. “He’s sick but he has a good physique, doesn’t he? It would be so nice to cu—”

Jaehyun snatches the towel from her and he doesn’t care if it’s rude. “I’m taking care of my boyfriend. If you don’t need anything, then please, let him take a rest first. Come back when he feels better.”

Raising a brow, she gets up and leaves the room but Jaehyun can tell that she hasn’t left yet as he listens to her footsteps around the house.

“Do you feel a little better now…?”

Taeyong snores.

Letting his friend sleep first, Jaehyun puts the basin away and goes to the kitchen hoping to restart the noodles. He stops at the entryway as Sukja closely examines one of the knives. “Does it ever cross your mind how impolite you can be sometimes?”

“We’ve only interacted a handful of times, Yuno. You don’t know me well enough to say I’m impolite. Does Taeyong talk to you about me?”

He doesn’t, but Jaehyun knows he’s going to loathe it if Taeyong did. “I don’t need to talk to you everyday to know that you have a tendency to be rude. You just invited yourself in and wiped him down. That’s so inappropriate.”

“So he doesn’t talk to you about me. That’s sad. I told him I shouldn’t be a threat to your relationship.” Running her fingers over the side of the blade, she drinks it in with amazement. “This must be expensive. You can tell just from the touch.” The blade nicks her finger as she touches the tip. “And impressively sharp.”

Keeping his mouth shut in case he says something that might hurt the girl, Jaehyun turns on his heel to get back to Taeyong, and does a double take at Sukja’s hands when he thought he saw something he shouldn’t have.

There were long, black claws on her fingers, like a vulture’s, instead of the pinkish nails that he’s looking at right now.

Sukja puts the knife back in the holder. “Jeez, you really don’t want me here, do you? You’re one jealous man. It’s cute! Fine, I’ll leave you two alone now.”

Jaehyun watches her. She stops as she opens the door.

“By the way, make use of the cabbage before they turn bad. Take care of him, alright? It’ll break me to lose him so soon.”

“It’s just a fever.”

“His soul won’t find peace if he just dies from a stupid cold. Quite insulting, isn’t it?” Sukja flashes another innocent smile before leaving, shutting the door gently.

“…What the hell is that psycho even saying? I should ban her.” Turning the stove on, Jaehyun cooks the noodles and puts some into a bowl, bringing it to Taeyong.

Even though it pissed Taeyong off to be shaken awake, he manages to feed his sick friend until Taeyong finishes the noodles before continuing to wipe down Taeyong’s body. The fever breaks later on thanks to Jaehyun’s sense of urgency. He doesn’t mention Sukja’s visit. The girl doesn’t return anyway.

Good for him! He wants to be the only one who will take care of Taeyong, the only one that Taeyong will lean on.

Taeyong closes the door as Mrs. Son walks away with her shoulders sagging in defeat. Back pressed against the door, he looks at Jaehyun as the ghost paces around the living room.

“So strange things are happening in their home now? Moving objects, breaking plates?”

“Much like what you used to do. It must have followed them back after the burial, and the malevolent spirit was just simmering until it decided to finally announce its presence again.”

“Why did she come to you?”

“The police investigation is hopeless. Mrs. Son wanted to know if I knew any psychic. They’re bent on believing that the spirit is their son’s. If it’s Eunho, I don’t think it intends to harm his parents. Maybe it’s frustrated and is trying to send a message.” Sitting down, Taeyong replays what Mrs. Son told him. “They haven’t been getting much sleep. They feel this weight insistently pressing down on them.”

Jaehyun hums. “Ghosts do that sometimes. We’re attention whores. Do you know any psychic?”

“No, and I don’t think a psychic is what they need if they want to know who the spirit is. Psychics are just…able to predict things, but mediums are the ones communicating with the dead. I watched my mother do it but…I haven’t tried it.”

“You can talk to me.”

“Only because you are willingly showing yourself to me. You’re not like the other ghosts, remember?” Anxiously, Taeyong tugs on the loose thread on his pants. “Look, I know none of the bad things happening in this village is my fault, but…I can’t help thinking I still contributed to that. And I should do something to help them.”

Before he gets second thoughts, Taeyong goes to the bedroom and takes a small chest from the bottom of the closet. On the lid are his mother’s initials carved on the wood. Taeyong unlocks the chest and opens it, revealing three white crystal stones, and one crystal pendant necklace.

“Wow,” Jaehyun whispers. “Is that real?”

“Mm. She said it was passed down through nine generations.” Taking out the necklace, Taeyong puts it on before closing the chest. “I’ll try to talk to the spirit and see what it wants.”

Sukja is just about to knock on the door when Taeyong opens it. Behind him, Jaehyun makes faces that Sukja cannot see. “Oh hey, are you going somewhere? I was hoping to borrow some books of yours.”

“Uh, maybe later. I need to go to Mr. and Mrs. Son.”

She shakes her head, sighing. “Did they also ask you if you knew a psychic? I think they’re just losing their minds.”

Taeyong visibly frowns. “They’re grieving parents, and I’m going there to help them talk to the spirit.” He closes the door and Jaehyun glides through it. They don’t know why Sukja is following them.

“Mrs. Son,” Taeyong greets as he finds the woman clearing the garbage can. “I don’t know a psychic but…my mother used to talk to the spirits. And I want to see if I can do it.”

The woman almost breaks into tears. “Oh, Taeyong, bless you! Are you sure? Can we do it now? It’s already late—”

“9 isn’t late, Mrs. Son. And I really want to help.”

Mrs. Son hugs him before pulling him inside the house, calling for her husband. “Yeobo, Taeyong is going to contact Eunho’s spirit!”

Eunho’s father looks even older and weaker due to stress and grief. Kindly, Taeyong asks them for a candle and tells them to sit down with him in the living room. He takes the lighter from Mrs. Son and lights the candle, side-eyeing Sukja. “You can go.”

“I’m curious.”

“…Don’t smile,” he says through his teeth quietly and puts the lighter down. The more he talks to Sukja, the more he adapts Jaehyun’s irritation.

Glancing at Jaehyun as the ghost stands behind Mrs. Son, Taeyong opens the chest and puts the crystals at the center, surrounding the candle. “This helps attract the spirit. Please try not to cause distractions while I’m calling for it, or leaving and breaking the circle.”

Touching the pendant, Taeyong takes a deep breath and asks everyone to hold hands. “Please banish all unnecessary thoughts and focus on our goal. We don’t want to intimidate the spirit—or spirits that might be with us right now, so let’s have a moment of silence to let them know we mean no threat.”

Guaranteed they will cooperate, Taeyong closes his eyes to focus on his senses. Trying to note a change in the atmosphere. “Is there a spirit with us right now?” After a moment of no response, he asks again.

Detecting no strange presence in the house as the minutes tick by, Taeyong begins to doubt his ability. He could be embarrassing himself.

He opens his eyes and looks at Jaehyun for a hint. The ghost sadly shakes his head.

Taeyong exhales slowly and stares at the crystals. “We only wish to ask you something. Here with me are Mr. and Mrs. Son who recently lost their son. If there’s a spirit with us right now that wishes to convey a message, please talk to us.”

He watches the sway of the candle’s fire, eyes widening as he feels an oddly cold breeze. Meeting Jaehyun’s gaze, Taeyong confirms the arrival of a spirit.

“I can’t see it,” Jaehyun mutely mouths. “But it’s here.”

“A spirit has answered us, Mr. and Mrs. Son. I’m now going to ask who it is.” Swallowing once, Taeyong glues his gaze on the candle. “Are you willing to tell us your name? Are you Son Eunho? Move the candle if—”

It moves an inch to the right before he finishes his command. Mrs. Son bites a whimper, tears already rolling down her cheeks.

“Eunho. You’re here with us. You want to talk to us, don’t you? You want to say something, that’s why you followed your parents home. That’s why you still haven’t passed on.”

The candle moves in the same direction. Jaehyun floats towards him and sits down between him and Eunho’s father.

“Why won’t he talk to me and show himself? I’m a ghost too…”

“Eunho, are you talking to me because you trust me?” The spirit says yes, and Taeyong hopes it answers Jaehyun’s question. “Thanks for believing in me, then. I can help you. Your mother and father miss you so much.”

Mrs. Son weeps. “Eunho, my heart is in agony. I don’t know if I can be happy again…”

“You feel the same, don’t you?” Taeyong starts to breach his purpose, to find out what Eunho wants. “Do you miss your parents? Do you wish you were still here?”

As the candle moves further, Eunho’s father finally lets his tears fall.

Taeyong knows it’s a sad time for the husband and wife, but he feels proud of himself. His mother must be proud of him too. “You passed away without a warning, Eunho. The police cannot trace your cause of death. Will you be able to tell us? For the sake of yours and your parents’ peace, as I believe you are still here to seek justice.”

The candle nearly topples over from how fast it glides, moving clockwise at every response.

“I see. Let’s get to the point, then. It was not an accident, was it? Someone killed you. Someone wanted you gone.” Eunho’s confirmation doesn’t surprise any of them. “Is it an enemy? Do you know who it is?”

Unlike the candle’s previous movement, it slides backwards.

“…It was not an enemy,” he tells the elders. “And he has no clue—” Once again, the candle moves back, retreating. “It wasn’t an enemy, but Eunho knows who it is. Is it someone that the rest of us here knows? Do they live here?”

Sukja opens her mouth. “If they did, they would’ve gotten caught already. Were there even fingerprints at the crime scene?”

Eunho’s father narrows his eyes at her. “Are you doubting my son? He has no reason to lie. He’s already dead.”

The brewing argument is going to interfere with the ritual. Taeyong glares at Sukja. “Don’t interrupt me.” He calls for Eunho again to see if the spirit is still there. “Eunho…should I assume that your killer is in this village? Will you be able to tell us, or at least give us a clue?”

The candle stays where it is.

“What,” Jaehyun mumbles. “Did he leave…?”

Eunho’s spirit is still there, and they both know that. But Eunho is not talking. He must be reluctant. He must not—

Five heads turn simultaneously as the circular mirror the size of a plate falls off the hook and breaks. Sukja tries to take her hand back but Taeyong grips it, not permitting her to break the circle.

“Eunho, was that your doing? Is that...is that a clue?” Allowing Eunho’s mother to go, Mrs. Son picks up a piece of the mirror and puts it down beside the candle. “Eunho, I’m assuming that this mirror will give us a hint about your killer. What shall I—”

Out of the blue, Sukja collapses.

Her hands slide out of Taeyong’s and Mrs. Son’s hold, breaking the circle. Taeyong senses the temperature rise to normalcy. Jaehyun shakes his head at him. Eunho is gone.

“Sukja—”

“What’s going on?”

Disappointed, Taeyong puts the crystals back in the chest. “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Son. Eunho left. We can’t talk to him until we redo the process.” He tries to shake Sukja awake but the girl won’t budge. Her skin is burning. “I think she’s sick. I’ll get back to you,” Taeyong tells the couple as he carries Sukja in his arms. “But please keep in mind that when spirits get dissuaded, it will be even harder to talk to them.”

Taeyong leaves the chest with them and brings Sukja to her house. He puts her down the single couch and starts looking through the cupboards in her kitchen.

“What are you still doing, hyung? She’ll be fine.”

Failing to find a medicine, Taeyong walks back to Sukja and shakes her shoulder. “Hey.”

The girl wakes up after he taps her cheek thrice, groggily looking at him. “Taeyong…?”

“You fainted so I brought you home. Why did you even tag along if you were sick? You don’t have any medicine here.”

Sukja sits properly, rubbing her temples. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just—take a shower, maybe. And eat something. Taeyong, I’m sorry. I wasn’t really feeling well but I thought I could ignore it. Were you able to finish the ritual…?”

“No, sadly. I’ll try to call for Eunho again but I don’t have high hopes. If you don’t need anything, I’m going back to the Sons.”

She apologizes again, looking regretful.

Taeyong pats her head and leaves her house, jogging back towards the Sons with Jaehyun in tow.

Like he knew it would, his attempt to reconnect with Eunho fails. Taeyong takes his crystals and assures that he won’t give up until Eunho trusts him again.

Sukja walks him to the door. “Eat it while it’s hot. Warm, spicy food helps you recover faster from fever and cold.”

“Yuno must like it a lot when you cook for him.” The girl says, brows furrowing when she looks at his house. “Is he hibernating again?”

“He’s in the city. Got something important to work on.”

“Really,” Sukja mumbles apathetically before looking back at him with a small pout. “May I ask you a favor? I will be visiting my sister for a few days and I’m leaving this afternoon. No one is going to water my plants. Could you please tend to them while I’m gone?”

Taeyong eyes the healthy-looking potted plants around the porch. “Sure, I can water them every morning.”

“Thank you so much Taeyong! My sister badly needs my help, so…”

He doesn’t care about her affairs so Taeyong doesn’t make her elaborate. Fishing out his keys, he cocks his head towards his car. “I have to go now. Please feel better soon.”

Unlocking the car, Taeyong briefly returns to his house to gather his wallet and phone. Jaehyun squints at him. “Is she done being needy?”

“The girl was sick, Jaehyun.”

“Did you already forget how she acted at the Sons?”

That still annoys him pretty much whenever he thinks about why he failed to get to the bottom of Eunho’s case, but there’s nothing else they can do about it but try again. “I already talked to her about it and she promised to apologize to them. Relax,” Taeyong rechecks the locks on the windows, “I told her not to tag along anymore. Thought it would offend her but she took it well.”

“Okay.” The ghost sits on the low table, unmindful of the stack of books piercing through his body. “What time will you get back?”

Taeyong looks at his phone. “My session is an hour long. Then after that, we’ll finish the casket. Alright? I told Sukja you’re in the city so don’t open the windows, and don’t borrow anyone’s energy until I get back.” He pretends to tap the ghost’s cheek, and finally gets going.

/

Dr. Kim is the same psychiatrist he’s been seeing since losing his parents, losing purpose in his life, and getting diagnosed with a failing heart. His office was only a 30-minute drive from the old apartment, but Seong village got him sitting behind the wheels for about two hours.

Settling in the familiar brown leather chair, Taeyong smiles politely at the doctor. “Hello, Dr.Kim. I missed a lot of sessions, didn’t I?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Taeyong. I thought you’d given up on our meetings already.”

“I wouldn’t ghost you, sir. I would have to say goodbye properly if I think we’re going nowhere.”

The doctor smiles and prepares a notebook on his lap. “How have you been? Sure, I’ve missed out on a lot.”

Soft chuckle ripples out of Taeyong as he thinks about the ghost waiting for him at home. “Well, I moved out of my apartment, that’s why. And I now live in this village in the countryside. My mother lived in the same district when she was single.”

“I see. And has it done something for you? Good, bad?”

“Both good and bad. But just like the world that cannot exist without the blend of good and evil, I can’t just stop the bad things from happening to me, can I?” Taeyong shrugs nonchalantly. “The only thing I can do is deal with it.”

“You’re right. I’m glad you are coping well. How’s your health?”

He wrings his wrist, and smiles, for he barely feels a pulse. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen a cardiologist again and I’m not going to.”

The doctor’s countenance changes. “Taeyong—”

“Why would I fight death?” He’s not a soldier, or a warrior. Taeyong wasn’t built for it. He doesn’t have a shield. “I found a friend, Dr. Kim. An extraordinary guy. But even his coming to my life won’t convince me to take my chances. I’ve already accepted what I have, and what’s going to happen to me. My fate is sealed. Isn’t it a good thing to not fear death?”

“But you don’t have to meet it halfway. You can reject it. The world has a lot in store for you.”

“Perhaps I’m not looking forward to it.” Taeyong tries to imagine what could surprise him in the coming years and comes up with none. “I’m not telling you I’m going to take my own life, doc. I’m telling you that I’m fine with this. There is no hope, but I’m content.”

“Content with what, exactly?”

“With…” Coming home to the smiley ghost that gets his happiness from seeing me. “With living in the village? With having a friend that understands what I’m going through and supports me all the way?”

Dr. Kim adjusts his glasses, and Taeyong has been with him for so many years that he knows it means the doctor doesn’t quite agree with him. “I’m happy that you have someone to rely on. But the support you are talking about doesn’t seem helpful.”

“Jaehyun is good to me, and good for me. He has my back. He…he’s going to stay with me until the end of this, and I might even meet him again in the afterlife. There’s a high probability of it.”

“I thought you had no beliefs?”

Tapping his finger on the armrest, Taeyong stares right back at the doctor. “What will you do if I tell you…that my friend is a ghost? The afterlife is real, doc. And it doesn’t matter what you or what you don’t believe in. If ghosts are real, then so is heaven or hell. These spirits have got to go somewhere. They can’t be stuck here forever.”

Clicking his pen, Dr. Kim jots something down.

Taeyong chuckles. “I know what you’re thinking. Depressive Psychosis.”

“This prescription might help you.”

“Or it might kill me if I overdose.” The doctor looks at him again. “I don’t care if you believe me or not, but I’m determined to keep living this way, and I’ve only come to tell you, for the last time, that I’m fine now. That I’m happy.” Taeyong gets up and takes the prescription from his psychiatrist, only to fold it and leave it on the desk. “Don’t fix what isn’t broken.”

“You are seeing things.”

“And feeling things.” Something in his neck pulsates. Jaehyun is real, and so are Taeyong’s feelings. “It was nice knowing you, Dr. Kim. I’ll remember you in the afterlife.”

Walking out of the doctor’s office, Taeyong heads down to the parking lot and leans against his car, hands braced on the roof. He closes his eyes for a moment as he breathes deeply, before eyeing the row of cars around him. Dr. Kim is a popular psychiatrist, and many have come to get help from him.

Taeyong laughs quietly.

“We’re all going to die one day. I’m just outracing all of you.”

In his work shirt and shorts that have seen better days with the old paint stains and little holes on the sleeves, Taeyong outlines the lid of the casket with gold, while Jaehyun paints the sides with black.

“Are you really not going to tell me what you and your doctor talked about?”

Taeyong snorts. “I just said my goodbyes, really.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me right away when you returned?” It comes out like a whine, tugging the corner of Taeyong’s mouth to a smirk.

Perhaps he could share a bit of the conversation, sans the part when he said something about harboring feelings.

His face heats up as he meets Jaehyun’s gaze. Putting the can of paint down, Taeyong sits on the floor with elbows resting on his folded knees. “I just told him that I moved here, that’s why I couldn’t meet him since it was a nearly two-hour drive. And that I’m not going to do anything about my heart anymore.”

Jaehyun tries to interrupt him.

“The last time I saw my doctor,” he quickly follows, “my heart was only pumping at 35%. I’m not taking medication, I’m not exercising, I’m not watching my diet. Nothing changed in my routine aside from being unemployed because I have no will to live. I already lost it even before my heart deteriorated. Some people are just not born fighters. I’m the type to make do with what is handed to me. And you know what?”

Jaehyun holds his gaze.

“People can say it’s not the right way to live, that I’m wasting my life, but I don’t give a damn. If that’s how you want to appreciate your life, by growing and improving, eating greens and travelling, then I’m happy for you. That’s your choice. I didn’t ask to be born, and I’m not gonna ask to live longer. I hope people respect that.”

“You’re not the type to fight death if it comes for you. You’ll embrace it…but you wish you’d been given a little more time, don’t you?”

Maybe some ghosts can also read minds.

Taeyong ruffles Jaehyun’s hair. “For someone that doesn’t shower, you have really luscious hair.” He dodges Jaehyun’s punch, grinning as he pats the casket. “Let’s put this babe back in the storage room once it’s dry.” Then he opens the lid and lies inside.

Jaehyun gasps. “Oi, you’re not dead yet!”

“I know, captain obvious. But you never experienced being buried properly, so I wanna tell you what it feels like. Live vicariously through me.”

“Or I can just lie there instead?”

“If the casket was made to your measurement, then sure.” Hooking his finger in the ring on the inside of the lid, Taeyong closes the casket. “Be quiet,” he tells Jaehyun before he’s enveloped in total darkness.

Clammy hands folded on his stomach, Taeyong blinks through nothingness and inhales deeply. Despite the tight confinement, he feels cold.

When his eyes close, he sees himself in a suit, lying in the same casket. Looking neat, hair brushed back, wrinkles concealed. Lifeless.

“Jaehyun…Can you hear me?”

“Y-yeah?”

“How do you think my own heart is going to kill me? Silently, in my sleep? While I’m eating and talking to you? Amidst fulfilling another wish on my bucket list?

“…I really don’t know, hyung. But…I want to be here when it happens. Not to save you, because I’m not a hero. Only because I want to hold you for the last time.”

He prefers that. Dying in Jaehyun’s arms, Jaehyun cradling him for a while until he grows cold and stiff, before Jaehyun puts him in the casket. Jaehyun digging his grave, and covering him with a mountain of soil.

“What will you tell me when I die?”

“Nothing. I’ll save it for when I see you again so that you’ll hear everything I want to say.”

Taeyong smiles, hands trembling. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it? To meet again. In life and death, we’ll be together. But what if I can’t find my way back to you?”

“Then I will look for you.”

That, he imagines too.

“The world is vast, Jaehyun. The afterlife, I presume, is even bigger. Will you be able to wait until we see each other again?”

“No.”

His eyes snap open, heart burning. “No…?”

“I’ll talk to God. Or to the angels. Even to the demons, and demand where you are. I’ll do anything they ask of me in exchange for holding your hand again.”

Taeyong feels the strongest series of beating in his chest in years.

Opening the lid, he sits up and looks at Jaehyun, their faces close. If Jaehyun could breathe, Taeyong would feel it on his lips. “You promise you won’t let me travel the world alone for too long?”

Taking his hand, Jaehyun locks their pinkies. Taeyong breaks into a childish grin.

“So what does lying in a casket feel like?”

Frightening. “Calming.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. “If you say so. By the way, have you heard of the Andong Mask Dance Festival? It’ll be in about two weeks.”

“Of course, I know that.” Taeyong steps out of the casket and closes the lid so he can continue outlining it. “I’ve just never been to the festival.”

“You should add it to your bucket list. Highly recommended. 10/10.”

“If you say so,” Taeyong parrots, earning a smack on the arm.

Bucket list #4: Create a Mural

“And how are we going to do that?” Jaehyun asks while looking at the cans of paint that Taeyong bought. “Obtain permission from the office to paint downtown?”

“Why would we go downtown when we can just paint a mural in here? Look at the walls! It’s sickeningly bare. And the only permission that we need is my word. Go pick up your brush.” Taeyong opens one of the cans and stirs it. “Now that we’re done painting my casket, we should work on my dream mural next.”

“But…” Dejectedly, the ghost picks up a bigger brush. “But I’m not a painter.”

“It’s okay. You get that side, I’ll get this. We’ll both leave our traces in this house. What’s with the grimace?”

“At this point, I’ll be borrowing energy from every single resident in this village. How long will this take? Are we painting the outside too?”

Taeyong waves dismissively. “Borrow energy from anybody except the Sons. They have enough on their plate.”

“What about Sukja?”

“Do you really want to owe her something?”

“Err, when you say it like that…” Walking over to his wall, Jaehyun dips his brush in the can. “Are we starting now?”

“I might die tomorrow, so.” Taking the ladder that he borrowed, Taeyong places it against the side of his wall for later when he has to paint the top. “Will bunnies look cute here? Hmm. We’ll never know until we paint it.”

Giving Jaehyun free rein for the ghost’s mural, Taeyong starts painting his wall with its base color.

For a while, Taeyong focuses on making sure he’s not leaving any spot uncovered. “You good there?” He looks at Jaehyun, and gapes for a second. Where did the ghost’s shirt go?

He sees it crumpled at the corner. Jaehyun hums without looking at him as the ghost happily does his task, so Taeyong freely stares at the wide expanse of Jaehyun’s back until he feels like he’s doing something illegal.

Fanning his face, he expels some of his unspeakable thoughts.

Having painted some murals before as a student, Taeyong quickly does the first layer. He then climbs the ladder to reach the top and paints it too, glancing at Jaehyun over his shoulder as the ghost makes his task extra entertaining by running from one side to the other as he drags the brush across the wall, making zooming car noises.

“This is fun!”

“I can see that. What are you thinking of painting?”

Jaehyun briefly looks at him, messily dipping the brush causing droplets of paint to trickle on the floor. “A tree.”

“…A tree.”

“Why not?! Teachers always give kids easy As when they draw trees.”

“You’re not a kid anymore, though.” Chuckling, Taeyong continues layering his wall. Then he feels a wet flick land on his cheek before Jaehyun giggles. The ghost is innocently whistling when he turns. “So you wanna play a game…”

Retaliating, Taeyong uses his brush to flick paint back at Jaehyun. They go back and forth, giggling childishly without giving a shit about the nightmare of a mess they’re making. He enjoys seeing Jaehyun’s skin dotted with paint.

“Oh shit—”

The ladder wobbles before Taeyong’s foot slips off the step. Falling on his ass punches a wince out of him, and then a loud cuss as he cuts his hand on a chipped wood on the floorboard. “That fucking stings—”

Jaehyun steadies the ladder and drops to his side, frowning at his hand. “Is it bleeding?”

“A bit. It’s just a cut. The fall hurt more than anything, really.” Latching his mouth on the cut to suck on the blood, Taeyong yelps in surprise as Jaehyun tugs him back until he’s sitting on the ghost’s lap. “Dude—”

“Let me see.” Grabbing his hand, Jaehyun inspects the wound for a second before bringing his hand to his mouth to suck on the small bead of blood.

Taeyong gawks. Dumbfounded, flames lap up his face as he feels Jaehyun’s tongue swipe over the cut on his palm. The fire from his face soon travels south, taking over his whole body.

Withdrawing his hand, he uses it to smack the back of Jaehyun’s head. Glaring when the ghost shouts at him. “Are you an idiot?!”

“I was helping you!”

“It wasn’t even bleeding a lot!”

“But you licked it first!”

“I was licking my own hand! Don’t just lick anybody’s hand, Jaehyun! My god—you’re out of your mind.” Failing to understand the thought process of his friend, Taeyong cradles his hand in disbelief.

Jaehyun doesn’t get why he’s freaking out. “You were hurt and I panicked. Look, it stopped bleeding, right?”

Taeyong can still feel the brush of Jaehyun’s tongue so he curls his hand into a fist, huffing. “I cannot believe you just did that!”

Like he wants to kill Taeyong right there and then, Jaehyun smirks lazily. “I can demonstrate it again if you want.”

“You disgusting spirit—” Peeling himself off of Jaehyun’s lap, Taeyong walks away. “Licking me like a dog?!” Jaehyun’s laughter mocks him as he storms to the bathroom, locking himself inside.

He is mortified to the bones as he looks at the obvious tent in his shorts. Jesus Christ. Is he really thirsting over a ghost now…?

“I won’t let you!”

“And who are you to try to stop me? What can you even do? Wail like a child?”

“I know I’m just a ghost, and I have nothing against you but I’ll try! For sure there’s something I can do keep you from—”

Sinister laughter. “You know damn well you’re fooling yourself. One snap and I can break him into a billion pieces until he’s nothing but a heap of ash that I will throw right at your face. After that you can no longer hold him. Not even a grain of dust.”

“What did he even do to you? He treated you like a friend but you lied to him!”

“Look at me, ghostling. What do you see? Do I resemble the image of purity, kindness, and compassion?”

“…He doesn’t deserve to die.”

“None of the others did. But where are they now? Crying about being powerless. He’s a weakling, and I’m only doing him a favor. Gonna pierce right through that body with my bare hand, and crush that pathetic, squeaky heart.”

“He’s already dying! Let him live the rest of his life!”

“Hey, spirit. Do you see this thing in my hand?”

“…It’s empty—”

“Like the amount of fucks I give about every single one of you.”

The sound Taeyong’s own gasp tears through him, eyes rapidly blinking in alert. He sees nothing but black even though he knows he’s awake. He blinks again, and again, but no matter how many times he repeats it, no beam of light flashes at him.

Where is he? It’s freezing; the coldness is biting through his skin, chomping down his bones. Yet weirdly, he’s not shivering even though he could die in this kind of temperature.

Is he even alive…? He can’t feel even the softest beating of his heart. It must have reached its final conclusion, rusty gears locking to a complete halt. But if he is already dead, then where is he? Whose voices are those? Are they talking about him?

“There’s no one more ruthless than you. Killing for your own entertainment? You were not supposed to be here. You’re not supposed to set your eyes on him. Taeyong will not die—not right now, and not in your hands!”

Then he’s still alive, right? Someone wants to kill him, and another person is trying to prevent that. Why? Why are they fighting over him? Who are they? Why can’t Taeyong recognize these voices?

The one with a hoarse, gravelly voice speaks. Every word that rolls off their tongue drips with hatred.

“Death is such a beautiful thing. It claimed you, and it became a way for you to meet him. Do you despise it, then?”

How odd it is to listen to strangers debating over his right to die and to live. Even more bizarre for death to be called beautiful. If there is anything beautiful in this world, it’s whatever he and Jaehyun have.

Taeyong tries to move but something blocks either side of him. When he tries to raise his hands, they are met with another barrier. The space where he is, where he’s lying, is apparently narrow. Like a cage.

His hand bumps against something metallic right above his chest. A hook, which one can pull to close the lid—

Is he—

Is he in his own casket…?

At a sudden jostle, Taeyong realizes he’s moving. Or the casket is moving as if it’s being dragged over a rocky ground.

“You said it yourself. He is dying anyway. Why not end his suffering now?”

Panic rises in him. Taeyong stars pounding against the casket, screaming. “Let me out! Let me out of here!” Tears quickly well up in his eyes and stream down his face. “Please! I don’t want to die yet! Please, open up!”

“Ah—do you hear that, ghostling? He finally woke up. Should we ask for his last words?”

“Please, please let me out! Don’t kill me!” The lid cracks from the desperate slam of his fists. Taeyong hisses as a piece of wood cuts his palm, reopening the one that he got from his floorboard. “Don’t bury me!”

Not yet. He didn’t prepare for this.

Whoever is dragging his casket stops. Taeyong pants as he fearfully blinks around the darkness.

The air that blows towards him when the lid is ripped open is blazing hot.

Eyes wide like saucers from fear, Taeyong stares at the scene before him. No longer is he in a casket, lying down and about to be buried underground.

The raging waves of a river of fire hungrily devour both screaming men and women, burning them to death before spitting them back out for a second of respite before the cycle repeats.

“Welcome home.”

Turning to the voice, Taeyong looks at the hideous face of a demon whose hair is so unrealistically long that it touches the ground like the tail of a bridal gown.

He wobbly takes a step back. “This isn’t my home—”

“This is where your soul belongs.”

“I’m still alive.” Taeyong pats his body and flinches as the demon laughs. Now free from the casket, he picks up the feminine ring of its harsh laughter. “I’m not a bad person. I made mistakes but I’m not evil. I shouldn’t be here!”

Grinning, the demon’s fangs grow a couple of inches longer. Its eyes are crimson red, ears pointed like the tip of a sword. On its fingers are bird-like claws.

Taeyong drops to his knees as it approaches. “Please,” he begs, crying. “Let me go.” The demon’s grin widens as it towers over him. “Please don’t kill—”

Blood spurts out of his mouth as the demon’s hand punches a hole in his chest, ripping his heart out. Taeyong then watches as his heart bursts into fleshy bits within the demon’s grip.

“This is exactly what that farmer looked like when I mangled his torso.”

Falling backwards, Taeyong hits the floor of hell with a cough while the demon laughs. Gaze blurring, he looks at it as it starts eating what used to be a part of him.

And in his dying moment, Taeyong watches its appearance slowly transform—from a soulless monster to that of a face he regretfully knows.

/

Bullets of sweat trickle down his face as he wakes with a start, gripping the blanket. Taeyong shakes like a leaf as he looks at his hands, turning them around to see if he’s alive.

“Taeyong—”

Bile rises up his throat. Throwing the blanket off of him, Taeyong runs through Jaehyun’s spirit and then to the kitchen, gripping the edge of the sink as he vomits.

The ghost follows him, worry etched in Jaehyun’s tone. “Did you eat something bad?”

He vomits everything out until he’s dry heaving. Taeyong looks at the disgusting glob through a film of tears before turning the tap on and washing it in the drain. He gargles and spits a few times until the taste disappears, and rinses with mouthwash for good measure.

“Do you want me to make some tea…?”

Taeyong turns the tap off and turns to Jaehyun, wiping his tears away. He’s still trembling.

“I saw it,” he says, voice barely a whisper. “I saw Eunho’s killer.”

Haunted by the dream, Taeyong fidgets as he returns to the bedroom.

Jaehyun sits across from him. “Who is it?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, rewinding the part where his heart was barbarically ripped out of its cage. Taeyong can’t wrap his head around it, can’t believe he’d been played like a fool.

“It’s a demon. A female demon that walks the earth in its human form.” He looks Jaehyun right in the eyes. “And it lives right next to us.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Jaehyun points towards Sukja’s house. “How…?”

“I dreamt that I got dragged to hell, and the demon killed me. Right before I woke up, the demon said something about mangling a farmer’s torso, before its face morphed into Sukja’s while it ate the remnants of my heart. Sukja hates mirrors, Jaehyun. Possibly because she won’t reflect in it.”

“But she has a body,” Jaehyun argues. “She’s a demon, not a spirit.”

“Then she doesn’t want to see what she’s going to see in her reflection. Her human form is made up, so there’s a possibility that her true form is what’s going to reflect in the mirror.” Taeyong curses as he rubs a hand down his face. “Eunho knew it was Sukja, that’s why he broke that mirror to tell us that his killer was there. Sukja speaks so apathetically of death, of crimes because she’s a murderer without remorse. She hungers for a kill.”

Jaehyun’s expression contorts to something akin to trepidation. “Right. I remember when she dropped the day you got sick—”

“She did?”

“She left you the cabbages.”

“But you said it was Mrs. Hwang.”

The ghost sighs. “I lied because I was really pissed at her that day. She invited herself in even after I said you were sick and wiped you down. After I took the towel from her, she went to the kitchen and played with one of the knives. That time I thought I was just seeing things, but now I’m not sure anymore. I swear she had black claws for a second.”

Like the ones the demon in his dream had. One by one, the clues are assembling. “She told me that some ghosts would possess humans to claim their bodies, but I think she was deliberately being inaccurate so it wouldn’t be obvious that she knew something most of us shouldn’t know. That came up after she likened you to a ghost, joking about how Yuno shows up and disappears like one.”

“Fuck—” Jaehyun chews on his nail. “Do you think she really knows that I’m a ghost?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe she does. Maybe she thinks I don’t know that you’re a ghost, and she for sure was confident that neither of us knew she’s a demon. If she had an inkling, I believe she would’ve done something about it already.”

“It’s giving me chills now when I think of how she talked about you dying.”

“I think she wants to kill me after Eunho. But why? Why me? She was already here before I moved in.”

“For only a week,” Jaehyun reminds him. “She was probably still looking for the perfect victims, and then you came.”

‘Great! Another person to take into consideration. I’m glad you chose to live here, Taeyong. We have to get along!’

Taeyong closes his eyes. The memory makes his skin crawl. “She might not even have a sister. Also likely faked that fever to keep Eunho from revealing the truth. Eunho had stopped communicating out of fear, certainly.”

And the best part of this discovery is that she’s from Namhae, where the serial killings began.

Jaehyun asks where she is.

“She didn’t tell me.”

“What are we gonna do now? No one should die in her hands after Eunho. Not you…”

Realizing that it must be Jaehyun that Sukja was arguing with in his dream, Taeyong grabs the chest of crystals from his closet. “We can’t act rashly. For now, we have to talk to Eunho to confirm the identity of his killer.”

He motions for Jaehyun to follow him, glaring daggers at Sukja’s house as they head to the Sons. It’s not even 4 in the morning, but Taeyong cannot just sit back after that premonition.

“Taeyong…?” Mrs. Son rubs her eyes, yawning. “Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I wish to talk to your son again.”

She wakes from that. “Right now…? Okay—I’ll wake my husband up.” She lets him in, and Jaehyun unknowingly, before disappearing into a room.

When they get back to join him on the floor, they already have the lit candle. Taeyong puts the crystals in the middle and wears the necklace. “I know it’s sudden, but I feel like I might finally get the answer we’re waiting for.”

Holding their hands, Taeyong begins the ritual. He patiently calls for Eunho’s spirit, reassuring him that there will be no disruption in their communication, that he need not be frightened.

“I apologize for the last time I didn’t make sure that your parents’ house was safe. Nothing will come in between you and the truth today, Eunho.”

He’s truly hoping to receive Eunho’s trust again. Taeyong waits for a bit, and almost cheers as he senses the shift in the atmosphere.

“He’s here.”

Mrs. Son nods, biting her lip as she keeps her emotions in check.

Taeyong proceeds. “Eunho, thank you for reaching out to me. Once again, I’m sorry for my carelessness before. I just need you to confirm something, and if my assumptions are right, then I promise I’ll help you gain the peace that you and your family deserve.”

He pauses, and Jaehyun nods encouragingly.

“Is your killer a supernatural being?”

The candle moves right away.

“Something that wears a guise—a face, and a body of a woman?” Tightening his hold on Mr. and Mrs. Son’s hands, Taeyong drops THE question. “Is it Sukja…?”

Albeit reluctantly, the candle confirms it. Mrs. Son breaks down.

Exhaling shakily, Taeyong closes his eyes. “That’s all I need to know. Would you like to talk to your parents?”

He lets them ask questions and send Eunho their messages, filling the house with tears and heartbreak.

It lasts until the first crow of roosters, and as soon as Eunho’s spirit disappears, Taeyong drops their hands.

“Was it really Sukja?” Mr. Son asks, more skeptical than his wife. “That gentle-looking lady?”

Taeyong chuckles sardonically as he puts the crystals back in the chest. “She’s not as gentle as she’s portraying, is she?”

“You said she’s a demon. How true is this? Should we alert the village?”

“I saw her in my dreams, that’s why I rushed here. And your son already confirmed it. Scientists will call us crazy but it happened, didn’t it? We talked to Eunho’s spirit. It was real. You watched this candle move. You believe in ferocious ghosts.”

He stands up, clutching the chest. “But I’m politely asking you to keep this a secret. We don’t want to incite fear in the village. While Sukja is gone, we’re safe. She won’t harm you because if she’s the same killer in Namhae, then she doesn’t kill victims related to each other. Still, when she comes back and you see her, do not approach her. Stay inside the house. We’ll think of a way to expel her.”

“I thought we cannot tell anybody?” Mrs. Son looks at her husband then back at him. “Who’s we?”

Taeyong signals Jaehyun to blow the candle, the corner of his mouth quirking as he leaves them thunderstruck.

While Sukja is not around, they cannot confront her and figure out why she’s wreaking havoc on earth. It is also highly dangerous for Taeyong is only human, and other than borrowing energy to be tangible, Jaehyun has no other special abilities.

Nevertheless, they don’t want to lose hope.

Evil will never prevail.

Bringing the plastic bag to the back of the house, Taeyong upends it and pours the latex on the ground. Jaehyun comes out a second later with a small, pink helium tank.

Taeyong glances towards Sukja’s house, and the wilting plants, wondering if she’s sowing terror somwhere else. He bought the newspaper for today but there are no reports of new gruesome killings.

Throwing the plastic bag, Taeyong sits on a rock beside Jaehyun and takes out his small notepad. “Time to tick off another wish!”

“Today is not your birthday, is it?”

“My birthday is on July 1^st and I don’t like celebrating it. I just really balloons, is all. I’ll write down some things, then attach them on the balloons before we let them go.”

Though Jaehyun doesn’t get it, he starts pumping helium into the latex.

“I wish that all pets will be loved, and that none of them will get hurt,” Taeyong writes. “That all animals in shelters will be adopted by people that truly care for them.” He tears the paper and tapes it to the first balloon that Jaehyun finishes before tying the string on the clothesline.

Jaehyun starts making another balloon so Taeyong proceeds to write a new note.

“I wish for the healthy bloom of flowers in spring, and the healing of nature.”

“Don’t you have any wish for yourself?”

“I’d rather make wishes that will benefit the majority.” Taping the note to the new balloon, Taeyong nudges the ghost. “Hurry up.”

“I’m doing my best!”

“Okay. I’m writing the third note now. It’s for um, happiness to triumph in all of us, for peace to end wars, and for the safety of women and children.”

Jaehyun smiles at him proudly while tying a balloon close. “Doesn’t this make you sound like a chipmunk when you inhale it?”

“Mhm. It also asphyxiates you, and blocks your blood vessels.  You won’t die anyway, so feel free to try it.”

Taeyong watches Jaehyun suck helium straight from the tank hose.

“Hello.” Jaehyun scowls, cupping his own throat. “It didn’t even change. We got scammed!”

“I think it just doesn’t work on ghosts.” Snickering, Taeyong neatly writes the third note. “This one is for love and contentment. Let’s lessen the hate that divides us, and be thankful and satisfied with our victories no matter how small.”

“No doubt you’re going to heaven. There’s just no way for you to go but up.”

“Even if I have no religion?”

“Honestly, no matter what god people believe in, it’s the same one that watches over us. They just gave him a lot of names.”’

Remembering how Sukja dragged him to hell, Taeyong doesn’t feel as assured as he wants.

“And for my last wish,” Taeyong writes slowly, treating this last note preciously. “I want my best friend, Jaehyun, to find another friend to be with him when it takes too long to find me.” He tears it and tapes it to the balloon that Jaehyun hands him. “There are still two latex. Do you wanna write your wishes too?”

Giving him a look he cannot decipher, Jaehyun takes the pen and notepad and stares at the fresh, vacant page before writing slowly.

“For my parents to be healthy and safe if they’re still alive. That if they had another child, I wish for them to be the kind of parents my  sister or brother can depend on.”

Taeyong quickly makes the last two balloons.

“And for Taeyong to never forget me.”

Together, they release the balloons at the same time. Taeyong sits back down with Jaehyun as they watch the balloons float up, up, and up until they’re indistinguishable dots in the sky.

Gazes locking, Taeyong smiles widely as Jaehyun playfully pinches his tummy.

“What?”

“If I die now, I want you to be the last thing I see.”

Jaehyun’s smile wavers for a bit before he leans in, bumping his forehead with Taeyong’s and looking back at the sky—arm wrapped around Taeyong’s waist.

Sukja laughs at him as he drowns in the river of fire, screaming in vain. He hears her ridicule him, before he succumbs to the scathing pull of the waves.

Taeyong snaps his eyes open and locks gazes with the ghost who’s sitting at the corner, watching him unblinkingly. “…Have you been watching me sleep every night?”

“Not all the time.”

Slightly creeped out, he sits up and hears the sound of a door opening and closing. Taeyong looks at Jaehyun again before scurrying to the living room, sliding his window open as little as possible. “She’s back,” he says under his breath as Sukja turns the light on in her house.

“Are you sure you don’t need anyone else’s help…?”

“If something happens to me, then that will be the only time you’ll tell Mr. and Mrs. Son so they can alert the whole village. As much as possible, we shouldn’t involve a lot of people.”

“We haven’t even talked about what we’ll do.”

Taeyong closes the window and retrieves his mirror from the bedroom. “If she’s so powerful, then she could’ve just faked her reflection. But I saw the fear in her eyes when I shoved my phone to her face. It wasn’t an act.” He slips it in the back of his pants, and pockets a knife.

“Okay,” Jaehyun gulps nervously. “I’ll go with you. But I’ll keep some distance in case she can sense ghosts.”

Nodding, Taeyong takes the old newspaper headlining the killings in Namhae before heading over to Sukja’s house as his heart tries to pummel its way out of his chest. Dread sits in his belly. He might die from this.

Sukja is surprised to see him as she opens the door. “Taeyong! Hey, I just got back!”

“Yeah, sorry about bothering you. You must be tired from your trip, but—I can’t ask anyone else.” Taeyong puts up an act, hoping it’s passable. “Yuno is staying longer in the city, so he left me a puppy to accompany me. But it ran away earlier and I think it went to the woods. I’m worried and scared that Yuno might break up with me if I don’t find the puppy. Is it…is it okay if you come with me to look for it?”

“In the woods? Oh my, but it’s too dark.”

“My phone has a flashlight. If we can’t find it after an hour, we can go back and I’ll look for it again tomorrow.”

Sukja tilts her head, running her intense gaze down his frame before plastering a smile. “Okay! I hope we find your pup. Normally when pets get lost in places like this, you either don’t find them anymore, or you find their carcass half-eaten by a larger animal.”

“…Let’s hope for neither of those.”

Leading Sukja to the woods, Taeyong relies on his flashlight as he follows the clear tracks into the forest. The farther they get from the houses, the more shallow his breathing becomes.

“What’s the puppy’s name?”

Taeyong tenses. “Uh—” He says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Tyongya?”

Sukja snorts disdainfully. “What a stupid name. Perfect for a dog that gives its owner a lot of trouble.”

“Well, it’s a puppy. Naming it Pablo is more stupid.” He clears his throat and grips his phone tightly. “Err—Tyongya! Tyongya, it’s your dad, Taeyong! Will you please come back now?”

The girl parrots him, calling for the non-existent pet.

The edge of the mirror digs into his spine. “So…how was your vacation?”

“Oh, nothing special. I just checked what my sister has been up to.”

Taeyong glances at her. “You said she needed your help.”

“For work,” Sukja smiles. “We farmed back in Namhae.”

“…Farmed?”

Her smile turns wolfish. “We harvested.”

Lives.

“Must be hard for someone like you. You’re petite. It’s exhausting work.”

“That’s what you think. It’s easily the best, and the most thrilling job I’ve ever done.”

Gritting his teeth, Taeyong’s fear gradually gets trampled by anger as he thinks of the Son family. “The police closed Eunho’s case,” he starts, unable to wait longer. “Said the murderer was too good, didn’t leave any evidence that would give them a lead.”

“Or they’re just useless.”

“But I got to talk to Eunho again.” Blood pounds in his ears, deafening. “His unwillingness to pass on just like that without getting his revenge provided us proof.”

“…What is this all about, Taeyong?”

Leaf crunching under his foot, Taeyong turns around and turns the flashlight off. He takes the newspaper out of his pocket and unfolds it before tossing it to Sukja’s feet. “My mother wasn’t a psychic, but I certainly am. My dreams aren’t lying. You killed Eunho, and Eunho confirmed it. You killed all those people in Namhae.”

She keeps a poker face as she steps on the newspaper. Taeyong stands his ground as a ball of fire forms on her palm. He honestly expected her to deny it first but she must’ve been waiting for this moment as well.

“The villagers will say you’re a lunatic.”

“Why do you do it?”’

Sukja chuckles, malicious grin illuminated by the fire. “Because it’s entertaining! Do you know how monotonous it is in hell? Every single second you just watch souls get punished.”

“You’re literally a demon. You do not get bored punishing sinful souls—”

“You’re right. Well I simply think it’s unfair that the earth is supposed to balance good and bad, but God seems to reign still. So I went here even though I shouldn’t just to torment some humans. Do you remember what I said?”

Taeyong’s nails dig into his palms.

“If you die unfairly, your soul will not rest in peace. The earth lacks untamed souls.” The ball of fire reflects in her red eyes. “Are you going to tell everyone? No one is going to believe you. And you will already be dead anyway even before you could take a step out of the woods.”

In a blink of an eye, she sheds her human body in favor of her real appearance. The demon is more frightening in real life.

Taeyong slowly moves backwards, shaking his head. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.” The demon’s disturbing voice reverberates in the woods. “I’m going to open you up, tear your heart out and eat it right in front of you.”

Just like in his dreams.

Sukja makes a face of pity. “I liked you, Taeyong. But I like the thought of killing you more.”

The fire on her hand explodes to swaying flames circling her.

Taeyong shuts his thoughts off and takes out the mirror. As it glimmers against the moonlight, he sees the same kind of fear he saw back then.

He moves forward, unafraid of the flames, and shoves the mirror towards her face.

“You don’t belong here, Sukja. We’re not the same.”

Paralyzed, the demon’s eyes bulge as she catches her own gaze in the mirror. Sukja falls to her knees with a cry, burning the leaves and grasses around her.

But she’s determined to not be outsmarted by a human, purposely snapping her own neck so that she could escape the clutch of her own reflection.

“I will eat every inch of you—”

Emerging from the shadows, Jaehyun grabs her head and forces it back on her shoulders, holding it in place. Taeyong comes closer, nearly pressing the mirror to her face.

“You’re not going anywhere!”

“Oh, you little shitty ghostling—”

Jaehyun shoves her face against her reflection before Sukja roars. The flames then climb up her body, and they both watch as the demon turns into a mound of dust that gets sucked into the mirror.

It shatters in Taeyong’s hold.

“Ah!” Falling to the ground, Taeyong quickly wraps the hem of his shirt around his hand to stop the bleeding. Unharmed by the flames, Jaehyun fusses over him. “Don’t lick it!”

“I won’t!” Jaehyun huffs and pulls him up, steadying him with an arm around his waist. “You did it, Taeyong!” The ghost rejoices, bouncing on his soles. “You killed her!”

He did. God, he did kill a demon.

The fact is yet to dawn on him. Taeyong winces as the material of his shirt grazes the wound. “I figured that since demons cannot walk on earth, then seeing the reflection of her true form might lead her back to hell.”

Jaehyun tugs him away from the flames, guiding him on the way back. “But honestly, that was a little anticlimactic. I expected a bit more action.”

This ghost is unbelievable. They just fought a demon and Jaehyun’s concerned about the lack of action? Taeyong will smack his head again when they get home.

He suppresses a shiver as the demon’s subsiding cry echoes among the trees.

“Tyongya isn’t a stupid name, right?”

“It’s cute just like you! And we should totally get a puppy. Dogs can see ghosts!”

Dread ebbing away, Taeyong welcomes the excitement of delivering the news to Mr. and Mrs. Son. He may not have the chance to talk to the other families who lost their loved ones, but this victory will be felt all the way to Namhae. Eunho’s justice is the justice of all of Sukja’s victims.

Hand bandaged, Taeyong taps his pen boredly against his notebook as he looks at Sukja’s abandoned house through the window. It has been two days and he’s been burdened by the responsibility of faking a letter to explain her disappearance. “I really don’t know what to say.”

Tangible after borrowing energy from a first-timer, Jaehyun plays with his first ever paper ball. “Does it have to be lengthy? If not, then just say that she eloped with a wealthy man and left all of her belongings because she upgraded.”

“What if they try to take her stuff? Owning things that used to be that demon’s doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Then just burn everything. Except for the house, I guess. That’s too much.”

Taeyong sighs and finally half-asses a letter from Sukja, forging her signature.

Once done, he goes to her house without being seen and inserts the paper under the door for somebody else to see. One of the grandmothers that used to talk to her finds the letter, and comes rushing to his doorstep after reading its content.

He acts surprised as she makes him read it. “Well, it cannot be helped. It looks like Sukja found the love of her life and doesn’t want any trace of yesterday.”

“But it’ll be a waste to just burn her things! Some of them will be useful, don’t you agree?”

“…We have to honor her wishes, ahjumma. If she ever drops by to visit and sees her old cups and plates, I know she will be dismayed. Clearly she doesn’t have the heart to discard them so she wants us to do it for her instead. Those belongings might have a painful history.”

The grandma nods in understanding. “That makes sense…because why would she want them to be burned just like that.”

Seeing Mr. and Mrs. Son, Taeyong shows them the letter. Faking a letter was their idea. “Sukja left the village. And she wants her things burned.”

“Where did she go?”

“Far away.”

They call for the villagers’ help to bring all of her things where they can be burned at once. Half an hour later, the house has been practically stripped down.

Taeyong’s brows knit as the cloud of smoke billows in the air. Watching the fire gives him a sense of safety, a guarantee that Sukja’s gone. He exchanges smiles with Mrs. Son before going back to his house.

“Jaehyun?” He calls, but the ghost doesn’t respond. Jaehyun’s presence is absent in the house as he checks the bedroom, the kitchen and the living room, and even the storage room where his casket is hidden.

For some reason, he feels scared. Whenever he calls Jaehyun, the ghost always shows up in a second regardless of where Jaehyun previous was.

It cannot be that…his spirit passed on at last?

Jaehyun wasn’t even murdered by a demon!

But what if—?

Taeyong runs outside. “Jae—Yuno? Yuno?!” Eyes stinging, he frantically looks around the village for the ghost, asking everyone if they’d seen his ‘boyfriend.’

“That pale guy with dimples?!”

Taeyong turns to a little boy munching on corn. “Yes—yes, that one! Have you seen him? Where did he go?”

The boy points towards the river. Taeyong blinks a few times before patting the kid’s head. He’s never been to the river, always turning down the neighbors’ invitations to join them during laundry day.

It takes some time for him to locate it but eventually, Taeyong sees the water as it sparkles beneath the sun.

Hands on his knees, Taeyong pants as he scans the area and spots a figure sitting near the bank, hugging their knees. Shoulders dropping with relief, Taeyong makes his way to Jaehyun.

“Why weren’t you answering me?”

Jaehyun looks up, startled.

Taeyong belatedly feels the wet tracks down his cheeks as he sits next to Jaehyun. “Don’t leave like that.” He swallows the lump in his throat, refusing to cry again. “I thought you already passed on.”

Reaching for his face, Jaehyun wipes his tears. “Sorry, I don’t really like the smell of smoke so I came here, and I got in too deep with my thoughts. If I knew you’d be worried, I wouldn’t have left.”

“…I don’t want to lose you this way. To miss the chance to say goodbye because…I’ve grown extremely fond of you, Jaehyun.” Taeyong glares halfheartedly at the ghost. “You understand?”

Jaehyun winces, leaning in to whisper. Lips dangerously close to his blushing ear. “I’m really sorry.”

Putting some distance between them as he rubs his hot ear, Taeyong sniffles and looks at the river. “You should bury me here.”

“Underwater?”

“No, just…here. Where we’re sitting.”

“Why can’t it be behind your house? Or somewhere in the mountain?”

“…There’s something plaintively charming about resting where you died.” Seeing the pool of sadness in Jaehyun’s eyes, Taeyong cups the other man’s cheek and presses their foreheads together. “Maybe it’ll be easier to find you.”

Standing up, he offers his hand to Jaehyun and entwines their fingers as they make their way back home.

The first day of the Andong Mask Dance Festival arrives. Taeyong brings Jaehyun to the rental shop to find a hanbok to wear as well as a mask.

The shop boasts an array of gorgeous hanboks. Few locals are present to look at the displays, probably choosing what they are going to borrow for the festival.

“You might have to go alone,” Jaehyun says, scratching his head. “I mean, there’s definitely going to be hundreds of people coming but I don’t think I can attend.”

Taeyong’s brows would disappear behind his hair if he had bangs.  “What?”

“It goes on for hours on end. And I don’t want to ruin it by borrowing someone’s energy once the energy I’d get from our neighbors runs out. That unfortunate person would be having the time of their life and I don’t want to spoil it.”

Jaehyun has a point but Taeyong also doesn’t want to do this alone. He was promised that he wouldn’t be ticking off his bucket list wishes by himself. “It’ll be more  fun with you there. You can still come as a spirit…”

Smiling apologetically, Jaehyun shakes his head. “The huge crowd makes me uncomfortable. Sorry, you should really go without me.”

Well, he doesn’t have a choice. Taeyong really wants to attend the festival. “Alright, then just help me pick something nice to wear.”

“There are just traditional clothes, though.”

“But I want something that really suits me.”

Helping him browse the displays, Jaehyun points to the colors he thinks will compliment Taeyong’s face, carrying all the layers as Taeyong asks the shop assistant for his shoe size.

Once he has the shoes, Taeyong leads the way to the fitting rooms and takes the clothes from Jaehyun, making the ghost wait for him outside while he changes. He hears Jaehyun’s footsteps as the latter leaves and comes back a minute later.

“Do you need help?”

“I’m good! Just gotta complete the look.” Putting the gat on his head, Taeyong checks himself in the mirror and unlocks the door, grinning as he turns around for Jaehyun. “What do you think?”

Blue looks majestic on him. “You look like a royal,” Jaehyun says, stepping closer to adjust the ribbon around his waist. “Your waist is smaller than a girl’s…”

Shyly, Taeyong averts his gaze. “I think you would really look handsome in a hanbok. But maybe next time…” Getting back in the stall, Taeyong fans his face and changes back to his own clothes.

/

Ready for the festival, Taeyong grabs his gat. “You don’t really want to go with me…? We could just go home early.” A last chance to enjoy the night with Jaehyun.

Jaehyun pouts, lowering his head.

“Fine. I don’t know how long I’ll be there so if you get bored, just do what you usually do. Don’t scare people to death, though.”

“I promise! I’ll behave!”

“Good boy.” Taeyong blinks in confusion as the ghost shivers before going out and climbing in his car, avoiding looking at Sukja’s house. It’s been chained, the demon is gone, but the terror she caused won’t part with him so easily.

He drives away, unaware of the successive fainting of the three people that live in the house behind his.

Though the festival is being held ubiquitously in different parts of Andong, Taeyong goes to the one nearest to Seong village so he can go home quickly. Parking his car, he joins the locals and tourists who are in their costumes, and puts on his bunny mask.

Majority of the attendees are dressed to the nines and those who didn’t put effort into it are probably not from the city. According to the occasion, they portray common folks from various dynasties, nobles, monks, and even government officials.

Taeyong nurses his rumbling stomach by heading to the food stalls,  mouth watering at the smell of spice. “Hello, may I get one cup?” He has to talk louder due to the cacophony and the mask muffling his voice. Taeyong licks his lips as the vendor fills his paper cup with soup.

Food paid, Taeyong takes his gat down and lifts his mask to take a bite.

“Careful there. It’s hot.”

Lifting his gaze, he sees a man in a red hanbok wearing a clown mask. He only sees the partially hidden eyes of the man, and notes that he is as tall as Jaehyun. “Um…”

The stranger chuckles. “Are you alone? I’m not from here, so I’m looking for someone I can go around the festival with. I’m Jay.”

Biting his rice cake, Taeyong puts the stick in the cup and fans his mouth. It’s scalding. “Ah—my name is Taeyong! I just moved to Seong village in the countryside. Do you know where that is?”

“I think I’ve heard of it. I’m staying downtown, though. Did you get a pamphlet at the gates? You can check which shows are happening tonight.”

Taeyong glances back at the gates but there’s just so many people that he cannot see where the pamphlets are. “I think I missed it. Then since you got one, you should take me around.”

Thankful that he’s not going to look like a lost bunny in the jungle, Taeyong sticks to Jay as they weave through the crowd to watch various performances. Like a pantomime of an old children’s tale, magic tricks, and dramatic monologue.

Afterwards, they watch a marionette show of two stick soldiers fighting in a war that ends very unexpectedly peculiar for Taeyong.

He elbows Jay while the two stick soldiers are fed pieces of the moon made out of styrofoam. “What did we just watch?”

Jay sounds amused. “Were you not listening?”

Knowing he’s being teased, Taeyong scoffs and throws away his empty paper cup. “I was distracted by the music.”

“There was a famine, and a war broke out after a sham fortune teller claimed that the moon could be eaten as it resembled sweetmeats. Two nations fought to take the moon, but at the end of the war, everyone was already dead so the two remaining soldiers agreed on a truce and rode their horses to the moon to eat it together.”

“But the moon is astronomical! This styrofoam is the size of a coaster!”’

“It’s satirical.”

Even so. Taeyong puts his mask down and rolls his eyes as the guy controlling the stick soldiers tells him to stop complaining. He and Jay then follow a group towards a dance party, enticed by the festive music played by a marching band.

Taeyong remembers he knows jack shit about dancing. “Don’t call me out if I accidentally step on your feet.”

Jay’s muffled laughter makes him feel like he’d heard it before. “How can I be mad at such a pretty thing like you?”

Wow, this man is fucking forward. Taeyong dismisses the compliment and shrugs, watching the crowd for a moment before picking up their dance moves—which is nothing coordinated but everything exaggerated, following the theme of the festival.

He looks dumb, he knows, and he doesn’t care. He’s got a mask on, nobody will recognize him, and Taeyong will look back to this night in his deathbed with ease in his heart.

“You’re not even dancing like everyone! You’re just watching me!”

Jay stays immobile, hands behind his back like a true king. “It’s more fun to watch you!”

They were talking about themselves earlier as they roamed around, and Taeyong wants to know more about Jay aside from him formerly working in the marine industry.

“How long will you be in Andong? Is it for good?!”

Grabbing the front of his hanbok as somebody bumps against him, Jay pulls him closer. “As long as you’ll be around.”

He didn’t come to the festival to be flirted with. If Jay is trying to hook up, Taeyong is not on his wavelength.

Taeyong turns his back on the guy, wanting to get closer to the flute players. But a strong pull has him swaying backwards.

Rather than a clown mask, he sees the thick fabric of a red sleeve as it covers his sight. Taeyong feels his mask get tugged to the side, enough to expose his mouth, before something pillowy presses against his lips.

A fleeting kiss. So soft, and so fast that it was barely there.

The sleeve slides off of his face and Taeyong takes a step back, colliding with another dancer. Jay is…gone. He’s not where he should be. Taeyong turns here and there, looking for the man with the clown mask, but there’s multiple of them wearing the same thing.

He thumbs his parted lips.

Jay had given him a cold kiss reminiscent of a ghost’s cold touch.

How he didn’t crash on the way home, Taeyong doesn’t know. He’s in a daze, still reeling from that sudden kiss. But besides that, he’s pissed. Why wouldn’t he be? How dare that stranger take something so intimate from him. Taeyong isn’t conservative but he’s also not the type to go around kissing anybody without meaning it.

Mind clouded with questions as to where Jay could be so he could sock him in the jaw, Taeyong unseeingly enters his home, barely registers a tangible Jaehyun frantically shoving something in the trash can while hissing out profanities. He raises his head as Jaehyun slams the bin close. “…Who fainted this time?”

“What?!” Startled out of his ass, Jaehyun jumps.

“You’re tangible. Give Mrs. Hwang a break.” Chuckling softly, Taeyong puts the gat and the bunny mask on the low table. “I’ll take out the trash tomorrow.”

Jaehyun seems to get paler somehow. “No, no! It’s fine, I can do it! I want to help with the household chores!”

At 11:30 in the night? Taeyong gives the ghost a baffled once over. “You’re wearing my shirt inside-out.”

Stiffening, Jaehyun reaches for the tag on his nape and opens the bin again to remove the black garbage bag and tie it close. “I’ll leave it outside!”

Letting out a huff, Taeyong heads to the bedroom and strips down to his boxers, grabbing a random pair of shirt and pajama pants. He’ll just wash the hanbok tomorrow before returning it to the rental shop.

The shower is quick, not even 10 minutes long because he forgot to heat up some water again. His futon is already made when he comes back, with Jaehyun putting the folded hanbok to the side.

Taeyong stifles a smirk as the ghost faces the wall so he can get dressed. Once clothed, he sits down and starts towelling his hair. “You can look at me now.”

Jaehyun scurries to him. “So how did it go? Did you enjoy it?”

“…I did. There were a lot of people like you told me but it wasn’t suffocating or anything. I genuinely had fun watching the performances.”

“What else?”

“The food is cheap but really delicious. And well, there were a bunch of eccentric things going on but I knew that the festival was all about being sort of absurd. I even saw a play where the characters beat each other up and pretended to pee at the audience.”

“Ahuh,” Jaehyun scoots closer, eyes shimmering. “And…?”

Taeyong is not going to include the part that made him leave early though it amuses him that Jaehyun seems to be anticipating him to say something exciting. “Nothing more. I got tired so I went back earlier than intended.  Not good for me to exhaust myself.”

Disappointment crosses Jaehyun’s features.

“Why are you solid?”

Then he’s panicky again. “Oh—I w-went on a jog.”

Taeyong sighs as he hangs the towel. “Told you to come with me instead. We could’ve danced together.”

“…Yeah, that would’ve been nice.”

Lying down, he pulls the blanket up to his shoulders. “What about tomorrow? Would you like to attend Day 2 with me? The place is packed and it could get hot, so we can not wear a hanbok if you want to be comfortable.”

The ghost reluctantly nods. “Maybe for a bit. I’m worried they’d be able to tell I’m not alive if they feel how cold I am.”

So that’s why Jaehyun doesn’t like big crowds. Taeyong keeps that in mind, and promises his friend that they won’t be there for long.

He says good night and goes to sleep when Jaehyun leaves. But half an hour ticks by and Taeyong is still wide awake because of the anxious footsteps pacing in his living room.

“Jaehyun, what are you doing?”

“I’m—I’m thinking!”

“Then please stop thinking so much. I’m tired and I want to sleep but you’re being too loud.”

It doesn’t make the ghost stop. Rather, Jaehyun only paces louder. Irritated and confused, Taeyong gets up to check on Jaehyun. “What’s your problem?”

Jaehyun halts, face drooping like a kicked puppy. “Sorry, I—I’ll just think outside!” He’s out of the house before Taeyong can stop him.

A cry that sounds half annoyed and half shocked keeps Taeyong from returning to the bedroom. Sliding the door open, he sees Jaehyun pushing himself off the ground. “You okay?”

“I slipped on dog shit!”

Taeyong bites his lip and tells Jaehyun to meet him in the bathroom. A sulking ghost appears just as he’s turning the faucet on to fill the tub. “Cheer up, sweetheart. It’s just poop.”

“I’m going to hunt down that dog and make it pay for pooping in front of your house.” Taeyong rinses Jaehyun’s foot to wash away the smudge of poop and volunteers to soap it up too, dragging Jaehyun’s leg back down when the latter tries to pull it away.

“You don’t have to soap it up!”

“The smell wouldn’t go away if I didn’t.”

“I-I mean, I can do it myself!”

“But I already did it,” Taeyong says. “I wanted to do it.”

Jaehyun is the one that dries his leg once they’re done, snatching the towel from him. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay. Don’t think too much, though. Or you can do it without stomping around. Good night.”

Taeyong pats Jaehyun’s shoulder and goes back to bed, dreaming about ghostly touches and stolen kisses.

He has feelings for Jaehyun.

He has feelings for his friend slash housemate.

He has feelings for a ghost.

Taeyong might even be in love, for heaven’s sake.

Confessing crosses his mind once or twice, yet doubt gags him everytime he remembers that kiss at the festival. Because he might have hated it when it fully sunk into him on the way home, but he’s sure his heart stuttered briefly for that man he didn’t even know.

It wasn’t his first kiss but Taeyong only kisses people he actually cares for. His fling that lasted three months was allowed to touch him anywhere but his mouth, yet this man whom he only met last night was the most audacious of them all.

How could Taeyong’s heart betray him even more? If it wanted Jaehyun, how could it beat for someone else? Even if it was brief, it made Taeyong feel like he didn’t want Jaehyun enough.

But first things first—before he gets a meltdown, does Jaehyun even feel the same way about him?

There’s a lot of conflict, he realizes. If Jaehyun reciprocates his feelings, and then he dies, won’t it be cruel for the both of them if his soul drifts away and gets lost, and he leaves Jaehyun alone for a long time? Do all souls get to keep a hundred percent of their memories?

Let’s say I confess, Taeyong muses, and Jaehyun doesn’t feel the same. What if it makes him uncomfortable and he pushes me away?

This shouldn’t be frustrating him more than his faulty heart. But here he is, wishing to pursue a very complicated romance with a dead man.

He parks his car and takes a TV from the backseat. The house next to his where the demon used to live is now up for rent. Sukja’s stuff are all gone so he won’t interfere anymore with the village’s decision to reopen the house to those who need it.

Struggling to lift the heavy TV, Taeyong grunts as he brings it inside and almost stumbles when he puts it down. He presses a hand over his chest and takes deep breaths, before pushing the TV closer to the socket to plug it.

His flat screen TV in the old apartment was among the things he sold to save more money, thinking it would look odd in the hanok. Seeing the incongruent murals in the living room makes him bonk his own head.

While browsing the DVDs he got, he sees Jaehyun passing through the closed door. “Hey, you’re just in time!  got us a TV, and some movies.”

The ghost oohs, sitting beside him. “Are these classics?”

“I just took everything I like, really. Do you wanna watch one with me right now? I got everything from the surplus store and I made sure the TV’s working before I bought it. Why don’t we have a movie marathon? You get to choose the first one.”

Looking at the DVDs he lays out on the floor, Jaehyun hums. “I’ve never been to a cinema so I don’t really know which one is good.”

“Right. I’ll pick one, then. These are different genres so we won’t get sick of watching the same plot.” Taeyong grins as he pushes Ghost towards Jaehyun. “I don’t know why I made you choose, really. This is a good starter.”

Quickly, he fetches a bag of chips before putting the DVD in the player.

“Is it horror?”

“Crime thriller, romance, fantasy, mystery. It’s funny, too. That’s why this is a very popular movie. It came out in 1990.”

Off the bat, Jaehyun gets hooked. Asking every now and then for Taeyong to explain the scenes for him. Taeyong patiently answers everytime without spoiling the storyline.

When the end credits roll, Jaehyun is beside himself in awe.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I’m obsessed with it! It was engaging from start to finish. And the plot? Genius. I adore the characters. Sam fucking loves Molly to the moon and back, and how she still loves him despite him being dead, and meeting him again as a ghost really moved me. How beautiful is that?”

Taeyong’s chewing slows down as he looks at the TV again while Jaehyun continuously rambles about the romance in the movie. He lets the ghost talk, barely listening, as he stares at the screen.

“You think it’s alright for me to date even though I don’t have much time left?”

Like a speeding car braking all of a sudden, Jaehyun stops talking.

“Falling for someone was not in my bucket list, but…I’m thinking of—”

“Dating?” Jaehyun says it like he ate something bad. “You want to date?”

“I’m…still unsure. I don’t even know if—” Taeyong hears a thud behind him and turns to see a book that has fallen out of the shelf. Jaehyun is nowhere in sight. He picks it up and reads the title. Don’t Look for Me.

“…Jaehyun?” Taeyong stands to put the book back in the shelf and searches for the ghost around the house, but Jaehyun is gone. He left, and he told Taeyong not to look for him.

Did he do something to upset Jaehyun…?

And how could he not look for him when he asked the ghost not to leave him like this?

Taeyong sits down again and takes the CD out of the player, putting it back in its case. It was his asking if he could date that upset Jaehyun, wasn’t it? Perhaps the ghost assumed that if he did, he wouldn’t have time to hang out anymore.

If Jaehyun only knows who Taeyong wants to date.

Maybe this is a sign that he shouldn’t confess. They pretended to be boyfriends, yes, but he has no idea if Jaehyun is into dating. Ghosts can be aromantic too, he supposes. Jaehyun may not be open to dating someone who’s still alive, no less.

Taeyong curses and lies down, burying his face in his arms. He’ll wait for Jaehyun to come back and say he was kidding. He’s happy with only being friends with Jaehyun anyway.

He hasn’t seen Jaehyun in days, but Jaehyun borrows enough energy to always leave him a note telling him not to worry, that he’s not passing on. The note will always will scribbled messily on a piece of paper taken from Taeyong’s notebooks. I’m just busy, Jaehyun said, but he didn’t clarify what it is he’s actually doing.

So Taeyong is left absolutely clueless, trying to come up with possibilities. It frustrates him but he can’t do anything about it. He’s been tossed out of the loop…until he sits down for lunch with Mrs. Hwang.

She refills his bowl with black bean noodles, sitting across from him in the living room. “Eat some more! I want you to fatten up before you leave my house.”

Chuckling, Taeyong thanks her and happily eats again. It’s his first time to be invited by Mrs. Hwang. Around the smaller house are plenty of pictures of her children and her grandchildren, and only a few of her and husband.

“Where do your kids and grandkids live now?”

“The others are in Jeonju. One of them is in Seoul, living by himself. Doesn’t want to get married. My youngest daughter will be visiting with her husband and staying in the village for a week so we can meet her adopted daughter. Now I have eight grandkids in total. It’s a miracle that I know all of their names.”

He glances at her husband who’s sitting next to her, eating in complete silence.

“He’s deaf on the left ear and the right one doesn’t hear very clearly. Our age is really catching up to us.”

“But he’s always on alert whenever you…have your fainting spells.”

These days, Mrs. Hwang has only fainted once since Jaehyun disappeared.

Mrs. Hwang shakes her head, mixing her food. “I’m fainting more frequently. I can’t stay out in the sun for too long because I get hot in a second, but lately—since you came to the village, it has worsened. I don’t really feel anything bad, and I don’t get body pains so I think it’s just because I’m turning 65 in two months.”

Taeyong feels guilty for encouraging Jaehyun to borrow more energy. “Please remember to stay in bed for a bit after you regain consciousness.”

The old woman scoffs as she chews noisily. “Not even an option. When I sleep for too long, I get nightmares so my husband knows to wake me up after an hour or two. Especially nowadays. Things are getting scary.”

“Why?”

“I was talking to my friend from the other village yesterday and she said that a lot of them are being haunted by some ghost. They’re sure it’s nothing dangerous though, because it was just messing with their furniture and making strange noises at night. But it has never shown itself yet.”

He might have an idea who’s pestering the next village. “When did these paranormal things take place?”

“Probably three, four days ago? I don’t want to sleep for too long if my husband is outside. What if I wake up and the ghost is staring right at me?” Mrs. Hwang rubs her arms as she trembles in fear. “The lord might receive me instantly.”

Jaehyun walked out on him four days ago to do ghostly duties? And not because he despises Taeyong?

It doesn’t make him feel any better.

/

Come nighttime, Taeyong wakes up to the sound of a car’s engine. Not this, but another one that has parked close to his house. Nobody else in the village owns a car so it could be Mrs. Hwang’s daughter who’s staying in the hanok that Sukja used to occupy. It better be—Taeyong has no more patience for another malicious supernatural being.

Carrying the box of pastry that he supposedly got for himself, he goes out to meet his new, temporary neighbors. The woman trying to unlock the door is carrying a bundled infant in her arms while her husband is grabbing their bags from the car.

“Hello. Um—I know it’s odd to be greeting you at 2am but I woke up and thought I should give you this now. It’s cupcakes. Mrs. Hwang said she was expecting one of her daughters to visit, so. You’re her daughter, right?”

“Oh, thank you for this…” The lady takes the box, pushing the door open with her shoulder. “And yes I’m her daughter. May I know your name?”

“It’s Taeyong.”

“Thank you for this, Taeyong. The car woke you up, didn’t it? Sorry about that. We were supposed to arrive earlier but an emergency happened.”

Her husband takes the pastry from her and thanks Taeyong too before taking their stuff inside.

“No big deal. I guess I should go back now. You guys must be tired from the trip.”

Taeyong says goodbye to them and returns to his house, yawning. He stops in his tracks as he sees a puddle of water next to his pillow. Looking up, he finds Jaehyun hanging upside down with a cheeky grin.

“Hello! Missed me?”

He did. So much. But Jaehyun was perfectly fine leaving him clueless and waiting for days. “…Why are you haunting the other village?”

Jaehyun’s smile drops. “I was…bored. I haven’t been performing my duties.”

“Is that really why? Or…” Taeyong hasn’t been sleeping well, wanting to stay up as much as he can for when Jaehyun comes back. The ghost can’t blame him for all the overthinking he did and the new fear that settled in his heart. “Or is it because you’re finally getting sick of me?”

Instantly, the ghost comes down from the ceiling. “What?”

“I don’t know, Jaehyun. You left so suddenly and didn’t even have the decency to tell me what you’d been doing. If I did…or said something that angered you, tell me so I can apologize for it.”

Jaehyun tears his gaze away.

“…It’s either that, or…what I said after we watched a movie. If you think I’m going to ignore you if I date again, then you’re wrong. I won’t do that to you. How could you leave me alone for four fucking days—” Taeyong cups his mouth and swallows, putting his hand back down. “Four days is too much, isn’t it? You’re sick of me.”

“That’s not true!” Jaehyun refutes in panic. “I—I like you!”

Inconsolable, Taeyong heads for the door. He needs some air. Jaehyun calls his name again, and what the ghost says next makes him turn around so fast he gets dizzy.

“I like you, Taeyong! I like you so much that it hurt me to hear you say you want to date again! And it’s not me, right? You want to be with someone who’s not a ghost, someone who’s alive, someone who’s like Jay…?”

“…You—” Taeyong cannot get the words out. He doesn’t know which one to focus on—Jaehyun’s confession, the fact that Jaehyun got jealous because he likes him too, or how Jaehyun must have seen him get kissed by another man? “Did you follow me that night? Did you—did you see him—”

Jaehyun briefly averts his gaze again, ashamed.

“I did follow you, but I didn’t see him. I didn’t see him kiss you. Because I did it.”

Their eyes lock.

“I am Jay. I kissed you.”

…Jesus Fu—what?

Jaehyun is Jay. Jaehyun kissed him. Because Jaehyun likes him. Jaehyun wants him.

Struck by an emotion so strong, Taeyong clutches his chest.

He can’t breathe. His chest is constricting, his breathing quick and shallow.

“Taeyong…?” Eyes widening, Jaehyun glides over to him. Spirit hands trying to grab his shoulders as he drops to his knees on the floor. “Taeyong, what’s happening—”

Paralyzing pain blooms from his chest and surges all throughout his body. So excruciatingly painful Taeyong cannot even make a sound. Mutely, he falls on his back and desperately inhales, only for his heart to be stabbed by a thousand knives.

Am I dying?

Jaehyun cries, calling his name over and over again.

No—

Heartbeat gradually slowing down, Taeyong feels a droplet of tear roll down.

I’m sorry, Jaehyun.

Jaehyun wails but he can’t shed tears, and he despises how insincere it seems when he feels like he’s dying once again.

Taeyong is not breathing. Taeyong is dead. Taeyong is gone.

Was his love so hard to believe? Did Taeyong loathe it so much that his heart stopped beating? How could he promise to be with Taeyong, when all this time, it was he who was going to end it all for him? If he had known, he wouldn’t have begged Taeyong to be friends.

Sure, Taeyong was going to die eventually. But not this soon. He robbed Taeyong of the chance to complete the bucket list, and maybe change his mind about gradually rotting. Taeyong could be thinking of getting help, and Jaehyun stopped him.

This must be a punishment for all of his mistakes when he was still alive. The heavens collected them, recorded every single thing they ballooned, and made him suffer the worst way possible.

Regret hits Jaehyun like a bullet train.

“I…I shouldn’t have left—and made you think I didn’t want to be with you. I shouldn’t have confessed. I shouldn’t have said anything. Taeyong, I’m sorry.” Jaehyun sobs, teary eyes pinned on Taeyong’s lifeless body. “I didn’t mean to do this, Taeyong. Can you hear me? I’m sorry!”

Unheard by both the living and the dead, Jaehyun cries and cries and cries until he grows tired, and lies down next to Taeyong. He cannot touch him but he can tell that Taeyong is getting cold.

There goes his pointless hopes of Taeyong waking up.

Staring at the corpse’s pale face, Jaehyun debates going out to borrow some energy so he can hug Taeyong. But he doesn’t want to leave even just for a moment.

An hour passes by, and another. The roosters are now calling for the sun, ready to begin a new day.

“…Jaehyun?”

Tensing, Jaehyun pushes himself up and stares at Taeyong’s corpse.

“Jaehyun—”

Did he hear that right? Is it possible for ghosts to hallucinate too?

“Jaehyun, I’m here!”

He turns towards the bedroom and springs up to his feet as he sees Taeyong—

Pale, translucent, floating off the ground.

Oh.

“You’re—”

“I guess most ghosts first appear where their bodies die. Did you know that?”

Rapidly shaking his head, Jaehyun cries again. “Taeyong, I’m sorry…”

“What for?” Taeyong asks, gliding towards him.

He wants to whoop and cheer because he doesn’t need to challenge the gods in a duel to know the whereabouts of Taeyong’s spirit, but guilt it eating him up.

“You’re not supposed to die yet. My confession killed you!”

Taeyong blinks and scratches his chin. For someone who just died and is standing over their own corpse, Taeyong looks very calm.

“Uh—yeah, because I wasn’t expecting you to like me back.”

Jaehyun stops sniffling. “Eh?”

Taeyong looks at his corpse for a moment before locking gazes with him, and reaching for his hands.

As both spirits, they can now touch each other as though with a solid body.

Taeyong smiles albeit sadly. “I like you too. I was actually going to confess first but I got scared that the odds might not be in my favor.”

Whimpering, Jaehyun dives right into Taeyong’s arms.

I’m dead, Taeyong mentally tells himself as he glances over his own corpse. Finally, and without regrets. In fact, he is glad. Because Jaehyun is there with him and they’ll never lose each other now that they’re both immortal spirits.

He tells Jaehyun that. “So stop blaming yourself. It was going to happen one way or another.”

“But I’m confused,” he says, as Jaehyun pulls away. “What should I do now? Am I going to pass on soon? Or am I supposed to wait for a chaperone? I don’t have complaints about my death.”

Jaehyun plants his lips on Taeyong’s cheek, wishing he could make it blush. “Someone will only come for you once you give them permission.”

“Oh. Then I want to stay with you until you too are ready to leave.”

Taeyong looks alright. He doesn’t look like he hates him, so Jaehyun comforts and reassures himself that they’re alright. They’re dead, but they’re together. He will make it up to Taeyong.

“We didn’t get to finish your bucket list…”

“It’s okay. We can make new ones together. Something ghosts can do.”

“…How does it feel?”

Taeyong looks down at himself. “I feel light. Literally and figuratively. I feel like all the burden and the pain I carried suddenly disappeared.” He chuckles despite the tears collecting in his eyes that will no longer dribble down his face. “I don’t hate this. I’m dead, but it’s okay. That’s what I came here for—to wait and die. And it finally happened. What’s there to hate? I gained a ghost boyfriend who will be with me forever.”

If Taeyong is happy, then Jaehyun will be happy too.

“I’ll teach you how to borrow energy next time. For now…maybe we should bury your body before somebody finds out.”

When he becomes tangible, Jaehyun takes the clothes off the corpse as per Taeyong’s request and dons the black suit on it before carefully laying it in the casket.

Taeyong internally freaks out watching himself be put inside the casket as though he didn’t do it when he was still breathing. “Can you carry it alone to the river?”

“It’s okay, I won’t get tired.”

While everybody is still asleep, they make their way to the river. Discussing what they should do with the house and Taeyong’s belongings.

“I don’t want to give it away or burn it. Not yet. Teach me how to borrow some energy, then I will withdraw all of my remaining money from the bank and pay Mrs. Hwang to take care of the house while I’m on a vacation with you.”

“We’ll see if you’re a natural. If it doesn’t work, you can just tell me how to do it. I will also write her a letter, if you want. I wonder if you can teleport now…? We have a lot of special powers, but 99% of them are not really helpful.”

“You mean those 99% are just the various ways you can scare people, right?”

God, Taeyong is a ghost now. It’s disturbing and amazing.

They arrive at the river. With the shovel they bought, Jaehyun digs the soil as fast as he can before the villagers come to fish, bathe or do the laundry.

Taeyong peeks into the grave. “The standard is 4.5 to 5.5 feet.”

“This is good enough! I think it’s almost 4.5 feet deep.”

“What if it storms and the soil breaks apart?”

“An earthquake has to happen for the ground to break and spit you out. By the time an erosion happens, you will be nothing but smooth, clean bones and all of your neighbors will be dead too. And we will not be here anymore.”

Taeyong crosses his arms, lips pursed. “Fine, you can put me in my grave now.”

“You wanna say goodbye first?”

“…Okay.”

Opening the casket, Jaehyun plucks a flower from a bush and puts it in the corpse’s stiff hold.

“Thank you for living for 28 years,” Taeyong says, looking at his sleeping face. “You did everything that made you happy, and that’s what matters most.”

He nods at Jaehyun, and glides over to the edge of the bank. Watching the river, and listening to Jaehyun shovel the soil atop his casket.

Ghost Taeyong’s Ghostly Bucket list

Wish #1: Celebrate the Ghost Life

To officially mark his becoming a ghost, Taeyong has to perform one of the most basic duties of roaming spirits which is spooking people.

“You already know how to activate the bloody eyes and mouth, right? And make the stuttering noises. Also, concentrate enough to be able to do things that don’t involve holding or carrying things.”

Taeyong nods eagerly, cracking his knuckles. “I’m ready!”

Jaehyun snorts at him. “Not long ago you scolded me for haunting you and now you look like you’re about to beat me up if I put you on a leash.”

“And I will!”

Gulping, Jaehyun nods and beckons him to follow. They are going to be haunting someone in the next village because Taeyong doesn’t want to traumatize anyone in Seong.

Choosing the perfect house to haunt is not as easy as it sounds. Ghosts haunt places or people they are drawn to. Taeyong glides with Jaehyun impatiently, huffing every now and then until Jaehyun finally picks a house.

An argument welcomes them as they pass through the wall at the back. Intrigued, they poke their heads out from the kitchen to see what the ruckus is about.

“Of course you need to cook for me! I’m the husband and you’re my wife!”

“Don’t you get it?! I was exhausted and I forgot! There’s ramyun in there and you just need to heat it up!”

The husband scoffs. “You will feed me noodles?! If you’re going to be useless, then just take your things and leave so I can find a better woman to marry!”

“With that bloated stomach of yours, no one is going to even spare you a second look. I made a mistake and I’m regretting it everyday!”

She gets smacked across the face by her drunk husband, crying as she cups her swelling cheek.

Jaehyun fumes. “This bastard…”

“I only married you because you kept climbing on my bed! Now who’s pathetic between us?”

The woman pushes her husband away to fetch a bag and stuff it with her clothes.

“That’s right! Get lost! You’re not even pretty! Do you not know why I’m always drunk? Because I still can’t get it up even when you’re already naked! That’s how ugly you are!”

Nostrils flaring in fury, Taeyong waits for the woman to leave. She zips her bag close and cries harder as her husband shoves her out of the door.

“And don’t ever come back because I will not accept you again!” Slamming the door closed, the man throws his hat against the wall in anger. “Stupid woman! You will never find a man like me!”

Feeling Jaehyun’s hand on the small of his back, Taeyong glares at the light.

It’s time.

The man stops ranting as the bulb flickers for a few seconds before completely turning off. “Jesus—” As he’s about to open the door, the windows slam close of their own accord. Confining him in total darkness as they block the moonlight from penetrating his home.

A shadow camouflaging in the dark slams him against the wall, knocking the air out of him. The man slides to the floor with a groan, cupping the back of his head. “What the hell!”

Stuttering, guttural noise coming from his right, as though only an inch from his ear makes him go rigid in terror. Looking through the darkness, he quivers. “W-who’s there?!” And then he screams as he feels a cold caress down his arms, pushing him to his feet. The door won’t open no matter how hard he pushes and pulls, and it’s not even locked.

“Get away from me!”

He shouts for help, set to wake the neighborhood.

“Somebody! I’m being attacked!”

The bulb flickers back to life. Trembling hard, the man stops screaming and slowly turns around as the same spine-chilling, guttural sound comes back.

On all fours but upside down, Taeyong mimics his favorite scene in The Exorcist with an extra dose of blood coming out of his eyes, nose and mouth.

A sickening crack echoes in the silence of the house as he breaks his own neck.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”

Slamming his weight against the door, the man breaks it open and trips on his own foot as he runs away, wailing and calling for his wife.

Jaehyun cackles while clapping like a seal. “Oh my god, that was so sexy!”

Wiping the blood off his face, Taeyong squeals as Jaehyun picks him up in elation. “Put me down! I didn’t even get to crawl!”

“No need! That was fantastic! You had me on the edge of my imaginary seat! Shit—that deserves an acting award—”

Laughing along, Taeyong pries himself out of Jaehyun’s hold and presses a quick kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “Did I do better than you?”

Jaehyun dazedly nods, head-over-heels in love. “You’re a genius ghost, hyung.”

“And you’re still older than me!”

Giggling over the success of Taeyong’s first task, they glide around the neighborhood hand in hand, looking for their next target that deserves a good scare.

Until they give their permission for either an angel or a reaper to pick them up, Taeyong has a lot of time to improve his skills. Jaehyun is practically vibrating in excitement to teach him.

“I love you, hyung.”

Taeyong sighs. He stops gliding and faces Jaehyun, cupping the latter’s cheek.

“Love you too, my cute little Casper.”