Chapter Text
The first time Death hears its voice, his whole cosmos change.
It softens and it glows ― he feels warmth surrounding him, drowning him.
It’s a child, a boy, crying his lungs out under the careful watch of his creator and his parents, his voice echoing like thunder on Hyunwoo’s bones and spirit. It’s a soul, burning, blooming, vivid, and it touches him like no other ever had.
Its creator stands proud, face full of happiness. He, too, glows ― representation of Life itself, the sun on his eyes, earth on his skin, glowing like a million stars in the night sky.
Jooheon’s the soul, child born to please the moon and stars and sun, carrying so much life and brightness that even Death can’t help but fall.
“He’s beautiful.” Hyunwoo says, and Hoseok’s smile’s grateful.
“I know.”
*
Jooheon grows up to be an excited child, smile always on his face, ready to share his light with everyone who comes closer enough to feel it. Hyunwoo watches him, empty voids creeping inside his mind, loud, too loud, of wishes and desires and the need to be one of these lucky people.
When the soul sings, even the fire dances to his voice, surrounded by its life, devouring its excitement with eagerness. Hyunwoo’s flooded by distress, misery twisting inside his guts like venom. He wants the stars blinking in the human’s eyes, he wants the happiness of his dimples showing off for the whole world to see, the warmth of his soul. He wants everything.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
“I want him.”
Hoseok’s eyes are cold as the sea.
“No. Not yet.”
And Death obeys.
*
“I told you so.”
Life’s features twist in sadness, and Hyunwoo watches the children playing and laughing.
If Jooheon’s soul is the brightness of the stars itself, Gunhee’s soul is the night sky waiting to be taken.
The flame of love surrounds both of them, infiltrating inside their hearts and their minds, burning, burning, living.
It will die, Death knows, and it sends a pang of guilt through his chest. It will die sooner than he hoped it would. As nothing escapes death, would it be stupid to hope that at least they have time to share it with each other before he needs to take it from them?
Death knows it would.
Fate’s a cruel, cruel mistress.
*
“Hey, Gun-ah, do you fear the death?”
“The god?”
“No. I mean – yes, but… Dying. Are you scared of dying?”
“I don’t know. I think not. Should I?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does it matter?”
“... No.”
It matters, Death wants to say, but Life’s burning eyes shut him up. It matters more than I wished it did.
“Do not interfer.” Hoseok orders, but there’s a pleading in his voice, despair on his lips.
“I won’t.” Hyunwoo bowes his head in defeat.
“Forgive me.”
I can’t.
*
“Do you think they’ll have time?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Fate doesn’t wait for anybody.”
*
“Jooheon, are you scared of dying?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I would leave you.”
It’s the last time Death sees Life smiling.
His fault. His fault only. Fate has nothing to do with death and he should know that.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
*
There’s blood everywhere.
Blood on Jooheon’s lips. Blood on Gunhee’s face. Blood splattered on the ground, coloring the knuckles of the hate, the prejudice.
There’s blood everywhere.
Death’s existence is surrounded by blood.
“Stop! Stop! You’re going to kill him! Please, stop!”
“Take care of him.” Hoseok’s pleading eyes remember Hyunwoo of light shining through precious stones, kaleidoscopes of infinite colors glowing inside his irises.
“I will.”
I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
“My fault.” Jooheon sobs non-stop, Gunhee’s body’s cold on his arms. “My fault. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, I’m sorry.”
Hoseok’s lips taste like blood that night.
Life has salty tears on his face, shaky hands losing its warmth.
Death promises himself that he’ll never let it happen again.
*
“You should not challenge Fate.”
“She doesn’t scare me.”
“So be careful, at least. You know how it works, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
He does.
Fate, Love, all of them ― even Life.
Death comes for them all.
*
Jooheon’s body’s cold, his lips pale, his eyes closed.
Death touches his face, caresses his hair, appreciates the silence.
“I’m sorry.” he mouths.
“He’s yours.”
Hyunwoo stares at Life, at Hoseok’s tired eyes, at the sun slowly dimming on his core.
What’s the point of taking everything? What’s the point of seeing something so beautiful growing up, what’s the point of taking care of it, if he’s going to kill it all in the end? Hyunwoo’s tired of it. He’s tired of killing Life’s smile ― he wants to be the cause of it, not to take it.
“No, he’s not.”
Death comes for them all.
But certain things never die.