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more midoyuzu but you didnt say what kind. transgender lesbian beams your idols

a grim moment - pt. 2

pairing: hyungwon x reader genre/warning: angst, mentions of death/dying word count: 7.2k+ parts: o1 | o2 description: Straddling the line between the world of the living and the world of the dead means you’re the only person who can help a devastatingly handsome reaper with an impossible task.

After one final read through of your short answers, you put your pen down and start to pack up. Three finals down and two more to go. Your brain is fried, your body is exhausted, and your emotions are a jumbled mess, but you’re still alive. Handing in the final to the TA, you take a deep breath. While you’d like to spend the remainder of the day resting, the library calls to you.  “Y/N!” You spin at your name to find Minhyuk racing down the hallway after you. He’s a gangly mess as he runs, and his face is lit with a smile. It’s infectious, and you find yourself returning it. “Hey.” He’s breathless when he reaches you. “What did you think of the final?”  “Definitely as hard as Professor Min said it would be. But it’s over now, and if I work my schedule just right, I won’t have to take another one of his classes.” You start walking again, and Minhyuk falls into step with you, chuckling.  “If I ask really nicely, will you let me copy your schedule. I don’t think I’ll survive a class with him on my own.” You chuckle yourself, as you pull your hair up into a bun. Minhyuk stops, his eyes fixed on your hands.  “Is something wrong?”  “Sorry.” He blushes. “I was just looking at your watch.” He continues on his way, but your body remains frozen while your consciousness hurtles back to that day beside the reaper. You watch the car pass by and can see the six passengers through the windows. One turns revealing a glimpse of his face, his smile. You watch the car crash and feel the moment when Minhyuk leaves this world. You’re back in the present. Minhyuk stands a few feet in front of you alive and well. He has stopped and is staring back at you. “Y/N?”

 “Sorry. I, um, I was lost in thought for a minute. What did you say?” You force your voice to be calm, even as your body quakes with the knowledge that the boy in front of you will die in three days.  “I asked if you wanted to grab lunch with me, and my friends before you lock yourself in the library. I don’t think you’ve met them yet.”  “Maybe next time.” You attempt a smile and manage a grimace. Though if they’re who you think they are there might not be a chance for a next time. Like Minhyuk, they may all be dead in three days. The thought hits hard, but you force yourself to remain standing. “I should get going.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you spin on your heel rushing down the hallway. The minute you pass through the main doors, you take off. You’re feet pound across pavement as your body threatens to collapse. Not Minhyuk. Not the boy who smiles everyday and does everything to bring a smile to those who need one. Not the boy who saves you a seat whenever you’re running late. Not the boy who brings coffee to class because he knows you spent the whole night studying. Not him and his friends.  You run until you reach the park where you’d stood with the reaper three days before. Rasps of breath fill the air as you recover from your dash and the shock of everything. Tears well in your eyes, blurring the world around you and reminding you of the world of the dead, the world Minhyuk will soon enter. You want to scream and kick and hit, but there is nothing to hit or kick and your voice won’t make a sound. Instead, you stand and as silent tears stream down your cheeks.  Your life or theirs. Your life or theirs. The words have been your constant companion for the past two days. Even as you study and sit for your finals, the words whisper through your mind. The words change now. Your life or Minyuk’s. Your life or his friends. Your death is not an absolute certainty. The reaper said you were in danger of dying, but Minhyuk and his friends, their death is certain. You watched it, felt it. It is a re-occurring nightmare that replays in your mind whenever there is a lull.  The watch weighs heavy on your hand. You raise it to eye level, and for the first time can see the names on each hand. Minhyuk, Hyunwoo, Hoseok, Kihyun, Jooheon, Changkyun. Turning your wrist over, you undo the strap and hold the face in your hand.  “You’ve made your choice.” His deep voice fills your mind, chasing away the lingering doubts.  “I know Minhyuk. He’s in two of my classes.” You begin as you replace the watch on your wrist. “I’ve never met the other five. He asked me to grab food with them today. I couldn’t do it.” Your voice warbles, and you breath deeply to steady it. “I couldn’t sit across from them, knowing they would die soon. I won’t let them die.” You turn to face him. He’s as elegant as ever in his three piece suit, not a wrinkle in sight. But, there’s something different about him today, a lightness in the way he stands, an ease in his face. “What’s our first step? I’m assuming it’s not as easy as telling them they’re going to die in three days if they get in that car.” He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t change anything. Death would still find a way to take their lives. Death always claims what belongs to it.”  “Then what do we do? If Death always gets its way then how are we supposed to save them?” Frustration laces your words. When he came to you for help, he made it seem like he had some grand plan in place and all you had to do was play your part.  “I was hoping you would know.”  You snort in disbelief. ‘Me.’ You mouth pointing at yourself. “How the hell am I supposed to know? You’re the damn reaper. Didn’t you go to reaper school or something.”  “As a reaper, you are taught how to keep order not break it. And you, you’ve cheated Death before and lived.” He pauses, his eyes gaze off and his shoulders fall, and you remember the look on his face when he watched his friends die. As imposing and fierce as he appears, he is just a boy trying to save his friends.  Clearing your throat, you break the silence and draw his attention back to you. “You mentioned that before, but I don’t remember ever doing that.”  “It was when you were little. You went on a hike with your parents. You were playing to close to the edge of the cliff-”  “I fell.” You remember the day. Your mom had scolded you not to play too close to the edge, but seven year old you thought you were invincible. It had rained that morning and the stone was slick. You’d slipped and fell backwards.  “You should have died.”  “There was a man at the base of the cliff. He saw me falling and caught me. We were both in the hospital for a week. I broke my arm and my leg and cracked his ribs and skull, but we both lived. Was he supposed to die that day too?” He shakes his head. “His time hasn’t come yet.” The knowledge brings a smile. After you two were discharged, you never saw the man again. You’re glad to know that he’s still alive.  “I lived because someone who wasn’t supposed to die interfered at the moment of my death.” You whisper as your mind mulls over the information. “Put like that I guess it’s pretty simple what I have to do.”  “They die in a car accident. How are you going to interfere at the moment of their death?” That part wasn’t as simple. Coming between a little girl and the ground was less dangerous than coming between two speeding cars.  “I just figured out what I have to do. Can you give me a minute to figure out how?” The words bite as fiercely as the wind, and you regret their harshness as he retreats into himself. You huddle deeper into your jacket and clear your throat. “I doubt I’ll figure it out standing here freezing to death. There’s a little hole in the wall place near here that makes great soup - not that you eat - but I do and food always helps me think better.”  “Are you asking me out on a date?”  “What? No! I-” And that’s when you catch him smirking. “I didn’t realize reapers could joke.”  “The longer you’re a reaper, the less human you become which only makes sense. Why does a reaper need to have human tendencies? They only get in the way of doing your job.”  “And sometimes those tendencies keep you from doing your job.” You two have started walking, but he stops a moment before smiling and shaking his head. His smile is a small thing, but it transforms his face completely.  “How long have you been a reaper?” The question has nagged at you since you found out what he is.  “A years.”  “Does that mean you died a year ago?” He shakes his head, and you fall silent. “It’s not painful to talk about. I’ve accepted I’m dead, and being a reaper isn’t bad. People misunderstand reapers and our job. We don’t kill people. We’re there to help them when they die. Without us, they would endlessly wander the world of the dead and never find peace.” You’ve seen the world of the dead, a dark empty place filled with the blurs of the living. Wandering it for eternity would be the worst kind of hell.  “Did you choose to be a reaper?”  He nods. “I want to be there for my friends when their time comes. I just don’t want it to be now.”  “And it won’t.” You promise if only to bring back his little smile. “I won’t let it be now.”  “Don’t say anything more.” You start to turn. “Don’t look at me. Keep walking. Don’t turn to the left or the right. Just continue forward.” His words quicken your heart and release a burst of adrenaline, but you force yourself to remain calm and continue walking. Rounding the corner, a woman stands in your path. She wears a perfectly tailored three piece suit, her face is smooth as glass, and her hair is coiffured in a severe bun. While she lacks the elegance of your reaper, she is a reaper just the same. Squaring your shoulders, you continue forward and straight through her without flinching. You force your gaze forward as you head towards the soup shop.  A warm blast of air hits you as you enter, and your shoulders fall as you sigh. The owner greets you with a smile and tells you to take your usually table in the back while she gets your soup. Unwinding your scarf, you drape it on the back of your chair before plopping onto it. You rub at your face and take a series of deep breaths.  “Are you okay?” Your head whips up.  “What just happened? Why was she there?”  “I told you Death likes order. I thought I was being careful, but it seems I’ve drawn their attention to you. If you see another reaper, will you know?” You shake your head. “Good. Just pretend you don’t see them. No matter what they do, just pretend they’re not there. If they find out you know about us, you’ll be in danger. You also shouldn’t wear that anymore.” He indicates the watch, and you instinctively pull your wrist against your chest.  “I thought you said that there wasn’t any danger in me wearing it.”  “There is no danger in wearing it, but if a reaper sees you wearing it, you will be in danger.” You pull your wrist away and glance at the face. The names on the hands glare back at you. Without a word, you undo the latch and hand the watch over.  “How will I contact you without it?”  “I’ll come when it’s safe.”  “What if it’s never safe? I can’t do this alone.”  “You won’t I promise.” His eyes hold yours, and instead of pulling you into the dark void, they anchor you. Before you can respond, he’s gone. The owner comes with your soup, fussing over how skinny you are and how tired you look. You smile at her and thank her for her concern, but your mind is elsewhere as you contemplate how to trick Death.

Finals come to an end, leaving you with one day left before Death claims Minhyuk and his friends. The reaper has yet to return, but his brethren are everywhere. They haunt your paths, and while you do your best to ignore them, it’s no easy task, especially when they pop in out of nowhere. The worst moment had been while you were in the library studying. You’d glanced over at your computer to find a reaper standing in it. By some miracle, you had kept yourself from screaming. But, you’d had to move your computer to use it.  Their constant presence has made devising a plan difficult that and the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. You have a plethora of questions for the reaper, but with no way to ask them, you fester over the problem. Minhyuk has texted you several times, asking to get drinks to celebrate the end of finals, and each time you come up with an excuse why you can’t. You’re running out of excuses and time. If you could just lock them all up until the end of tomorrow, you would, but you know it would be useless. The reapers who surround you would interfere, and all of your lives would be forfeit. You have to trick Death at the moment of their deaths.  Not knowing what else to do, you return to your coffee shop. Your favorite spot affords a perfect view of where everything will happen as well as the spot you stood with the reaper when he showed you. Your eyes travel to that spot wondering if he’ll be there, if he watches this spot like you. But all you see are the living.  “I knew you’d be here!” Minhyuk’s voice breaks through your revere and sends your heart racing.  “Minhyuk. Hey.” Your greeting is flat, and the way his face falls let’s you know that you’re not the only one who thinks so. He pouts and doesn’t take the seat across from you despite his hand resting on the back of it. “Sit.” You gesture to the seat, but he remains standing. “Please.” You add with a forced smile. He finally does and places a coffee on the table for you. The gesture twists your heart. “Thank you.” You whisper as you pull the cup closer to you. Your eyes drift back to the window and to the spot where Minhyuk will die in less than a day. Tears well in your eyes, so you close them before they can fall.  “What’s wrong?” His voice is soft and sweet, and you can hear his little lisp as he speaks.  “I’m just-“  “If that sentences ends with tired just stop right now. You’re not just tired. Even when you’re tired, you still talk to me, and you’ve been avoiding me.”  “Tell me about your friends.” The spot on the street still holds your gaze, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shifting in his seat.  “Why do you want to know about them?”  “I saw you with them the other day, and you all seem so close. I was just wondering how long you’ve known them and why you haven’t mentioned them before.” The lie comes easily.  “Ah...” he pauses for a minute. “We’ve known each other since middle school. We’ve always been close, but a year ago...” he pauses again, his voice thick, and your eyes leave their spot on the road to watch him. “Something happened, and we all lost touch for a bit. But, we’re better now and going forward we’ll be by each other’s sides no matter what.” His smile returns, but its light is dimmer now.  “I’m sorry. Whatever you went through must have been hard. I’m glad to know you’re better now.” He nods pulling at the straw in his drink. You want to ask him more to know if the event he refers to is the reaper’s death. You want to know who the reaper was, what his name was, and why his death tore them apart instead of bringing them together. But you don’t. You don’t want that smile to dim further. Not today, when today may be his last day.  “We should celebrate the end of finals.” You announce breaking Minhyuk out of his gloom. Minhyuk huffs and shakes his head at you. You blush and clear your throat. “I know, I know. I have no right to suggest a celebration after I’ve ignored all of your attempts, but can’t you just accept my apology and we celebrate together?”  “You haven’t apologized.” He points out.  “I’m sorry.” You add extra cheese to your smile, and he laughs, nodding his head in acceptance.  “Fine. But I already have plans to celebrate with my friends tonight. But, I don’t think they’d mind if you tag along.” Your smile falters, but as it does, a determination solidifies in your gut. Tomorrow will come, and it’s outcome may be inevitable, but tonight you can change.  “I’m in. When are you meeting up with them?”  He checks his imaginary watch, his face twisting in thought. “Now.” He chuckles. You blink at him as he stands up and comes around to your side of the table. “Come on. You said you’d come.” He pulls on your arm, jumping and pouting. The other patrons eyes him, but his antics bring you laughter. Standing, you barely have time to slip on your jacket before he is dragging you out of the coffee shop. You glance once more down the road and make a silent promise. Down the street from your coffee shop is a pub much frequented by college students. The door sticks whenever you try to open it, and you often have to shove it open with a shoulder. But the extra work is worth it when the first whiff of food reaches your nose. The pub has the best local brews on tap, but what it’s truly famous for is its kitchen and the little old lady who works in it. She’s the owners wife, though everyone calls her ma, and she has fed generations of college kids. She calls them her children and never lets any of them leave hungry. It’s here that Minyuk’s friends have gathered. They sit in the booth at the far back corner of the pub, but their presence is palpable from the moment you enter. You hear their laughter first before they come into view. They’re an eclectic group. The two biggest sit at the end, a wall between their friends and the rest of the pub’s patrons. However, despite how muscular the two are, they aren’t intimidating. One looks like a giant teddy bear and the other has a smile nearly as infectious as Minhyuk’s. Two others sit nursing their beers while the third tells a story, his face morphing to match the ridiculous voices of his characters.  Minhyuk clears his throat as he approaches, drawing their attention to the two of you. He introduces you first and then his friends. You know their names. They are etched into your memory as clearly as they are on the clock hands. Hyunwoo is the teddy bear, Wonho, the one with the smile. Jooheon is the one making faces. Kihyun smiles at you politely, and Changkyun stands up and bows formally. Minhyuk explains that he’s just weird. The five make room for the two of you and order another round of drinks.  Two drinks in, and you feel like you have been friends with these boys all your life. They tell you stories of their high school days, and you nearly choke on your beer. They were reckless, and you wonder how they lived to college. Sitting with them, your mind refuses to believe what tomorrow will bring. Nothing could remove the brightness of these boys’ souls from this world. They belong here with their laughter and their zest for life.  After the third drink, your bladder prompts you to stand from the table. The boys are quick to move out of your way. Changkyun even takes your hand to lead you around the booth until you stand on the outside. You chuckle at his antics and promise you’ll be back soon. Halfway to the bathroom, you trip on your own feet and fly face first towards the floor. Someone catches you before impact and places you back on your feet.  “Thank you.” You smile as your eyes focus on your savior. “Reaper!” You gasp as you recognize the smooth features and three piece suit. “What are you doing here? What if the other reapers see? Wait. How did you catch me?”  “Do you really think this is a good idea?” He hisses.  “You answer my questions first.” You wag your finger in his face as you sway from side to side.  “You’re drunk.”    “Damn right I am. Do you know what I’ve been dealing with the past three days? And where have you been while I’ve been trying to figure out a way to save your friends? Hmmm?” He hushes you and pulls you through the wall and into the bathroom. That sobers you, and you step back as your stomach roils.  “What just happened? How did you do that?”  “Drinking loosens your grip on the world of the living, just like when you’re exhausted.”  “Okay, but never do that again.” You threaten as you crouch down and lower your head between your legs.  “Are you okay?”  “I’m drunk and was just pulled through a wall. What do you think?”  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but people were coming.” He looks away from you, but your eyes stay on him. The world whirls around you, but he stands still in the center of it all.  Breathing deeply, you sit back and examine your reaper. No longer does he wear his impassive mask. Worry creases his brow while a frown pulls down the bow of his lips. Your hand itches to smooth the wrinkles and curve the bow into a smile. But the watch hanging on his wrist stills all thoughts. Its tick, tick, tick chases away the last of your buzz, leaving you tired. You meet his eyes and in a whisper say, “I know what tomorrow is. I know what will happen. But I don’t know how to stop it.” A sob chokes you as you admit the truth. You bury your face in your knees, letting your hair form a curtain around you. You can’t look at him. You don’t want to see his face. “If tonight is their last night, I want it to be a celebration.” Tears gurgle your words, but the gentle hand on your shoulder let’s you know he heard.  Peaking through your hair, you glimpse his face. Gone is the worry, replaced with defeat. You can see it in the way his shoulders slump and the way his chest rises and falls. The movements are slow and shallow as if he no longer has the strength to breath.   “I’m sorry.” The words are his. Pushing back your curtain of hair, you stare at him more fully. He takes a seat next to you, mirroring your posture. His long legs stick out at awkward angles as he pulls them to his chest. For a moment, you glimpse the man he was. You can imagine him as a gangly teen hanging out with Minhyuk and the others ready to get into mischief. “I shouldn’t have come to you. I knew it was a long shot. I was selfish and didn’t care how much it could hurt you.” His voice is a deep whisper, soothing your frazzled mind. You reach over and lace your fingers through his. His hand dwarfs yours, and the feeling eases the weight on your shoulders, reminding you that your hands aren’t the only ones carrying this burden.  “Even if you shouldn’t have told me, I don’t regret that you did and I don’t blame you for how I feel. Minhyuk is my friend too, and now the rest of them are. Even if I can’t save them at least I know I tried.” A tear slips down your cheek. His finger is light against your skin as he brushes it away.  You smile at him before leaning your head against his shoulder. The stress of the week and all your worries mix with the alcohol to lull you into a half sleep. Your hand remains in your reaper’s as he rubs small circles on the back of it.  “You don’t need to worry anymore.” He whispers, brushing your hair off your face. “When my friends go, I’ll go with them, and I’ll take your memories with me, so don’t worry anymore okay?”  “Mm.” You mumble snuggling against his neck. A pounding wakes you, and you find yourself alone in the bathroom, propped up against the wall. Minhyuk’s shouts can be heard through the door, threatening to come into the bathroom if you don’t come out. Pushing yourself to your feet, you pull open the door to stop your friend from getting himself in trouble. With a start, you realize he’s not alone. Hyunwoo stands behind him, and the look on his face lets you know that Minhyuk wouldn’t have charged into the bathroom alone. You apologize profusely, telling them you fell asleep. They decide that means it’s time to call it a night. You argue against the decision, but it’s six against one. They walk you back to your apartment and wish you goodnight while promising to get home safely. Watching them walk away, you almost wish they wouldn’t. If something happened to them tonight would that mean that they wouldn’t die tomorrow?  Entering your apartment, you throw your purse on the floor and trudge to your bed collapsing on it. You stare at the ceiling as tears race down the sides of your face. Your mind is full of their smiles and laughter and the crazy stories they have, but overlaying each happy memory is the image of their car tumbling over and over and the feeling as each of their souls leaves this world. All you have to do is interfere at the moment of death, but how do you interfere in a car accident? The thought chases itself through your mind, lulling you into oblivion. Music blares from your phone, pulling you out of sleep. Sunlight fills your room, and you wonder when the sun rose. Your phone continues to sing to you, so you slide your finger across it and bring it to your ear. “Hello?”  “Wow, you sound horrible. Did you sleep at all last night?” Minhyuk chirps at you, and his voice is so bright and cheerful it makes your insides twist.  “I can’t remember.” You croak.  “I was calling to see if you wanted to get breakfast with us where going to that dinner down the street from the coffee shop you like, but I think you should just go back to sleep.”  “By the coffee shop? Are you driving there?” Your voice quavers with panic, and your hand shakes so much that you can barely keep the phone against your face. Silence fills your ear. “Minhyuk!”  “Calm down.” He chuckles. “Hoseok was talking to me. I’ve got to go. Hyunwoo just pulled the car around. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”    “No! Minhyuk! No!” But the line is dead. “Minhyuk. Minhyuk.” You fumble with your phone as you call him back. Your call goes straight to voice mail as does your second and third. “No. No. No.” You whisper as your clock flashes the time at you. How could you have fallen asleep? How could you have wasted so much time? You try to call again as you throw on shoes and a jacket but still no answer. You have to get to the coffee shop. You have to stop this from happening.  Hyolyn is coming out of her apartment as you race down the stairs. In your mad dash, you plow right into her. Both of you go flying as do your purses and everything in them. You stutter out an apology as you shove everything back in your purse. Her keys sit next to your foot, and as you reach for them your mind starts turning over an idea. Hyolyn hasn’t noticed the keys yet. She’s still busy collecting everything else. Your hand closes over the keys, pulling them to your chest. With a final apology, you race past her. What your about to do is illegal and crazy and stupid, but with any luck it’ll work.  Hyolyn’s car is older than both of you and wears its years without grace, making it easy to spot parked on the curb of your building. You hurry to it and start it up before Hyolyn makes it out of the building to find you stealing her car. You make a silent promise to pay her back and speed away towards the coffee shop. Your eyes shift between the road and the clock, and you push the gas a little harder, zooming between the cars around you.  “Stop the car.” The words jolt you and nearly send you swerving into the car on your left.  “What the fuck?” You screech at your reaper who now sits in the passenger seat. “Can’t you see I’m driving?”  “Stop the car now!” You remain silent as you continue to switch between lanes. “What the hell are you thinking?”  “You asked for my help, and I’m helping.”  “I also told you not to worry, but you’re choosing to ignore that.”  “I can’t let them die.”  “So you’re going to die instead?” His voice is a slap to your conscious, and your foot eases off the gas.  Taking a deep breath, you swallow the lump in your throat and continue. “I might not die. The man who saved me didn’t die. We both survived that. All seven of us might survive this.”  “You were a little girl who fell on him. These are cars colliding. You really think you’ll survive this?”  “If I stop now, they die.”  “And if you continue, you die.”  “You warned me helping them could lead to death.” You reason with him and yourself. “I knew the consequences when I agreed.”  “This isn’t what I was talking about. There was the possibility that Death would learn what we planned and send the reapers for you. You’ve escaped the reapers’ notice. You’re in no danger now, so stop the car.” He lungs across the car to pull your hands off the wheel, but his hands pass straight through you.  “I’m fully in the world of the living. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” The coffee shop looms before you, and the clock ticks away.  “Y/N, look at me.” The way he says your name breaks your heart, but you refuse his request. “I won’t let you take my memories.” He growls, and you know if he could he would pound the dash. “What do I look like to you?” The question is pointless, but you need a distraction.  “What? What does that matter? Stop the car!” “Everything looks blurry in the world of the dead. Do I look blurry to you?”  “You’re vibrant.” His voice pulls your eyes to him and nearly robs you of your resolve.

“Y/N, please.” He pleads. Closing your eyes, you push on the accelerator. Tears stream down your face as the car lurches forward coming abreast with the boys’ car. The moment of death, you can’t interfere until the moment of death or your sacrifice will be useless. “Stop the car!” He screams as the car in front of you runs the red light. You thrust your foot against the accelerator, peeling out in front of the boys. You hear their tires squeal then the ear shattering screech of metal pushed beyond its limit then nothing. The world goes silent around you.

The void surrounds you, and this time your reaper is not there to center you. You are alone surrounded by black nothingness, but the fear you had before no longer exists. You exist in this void free from all emotion. You’re waiting. For what, you don’t know, but you know you must wait. 

Steps sound behind you and beside you and all around. Whirling, you search for their source, but nothing disrupts the blackness. It continues in an unbroken ribbon around you. The foot steps stop. You are not alone. A woman stands before you hunched over a cane, but when you blink, you realize you were wrong. She is a young man with an inquisitive brow. You blink again and he is both man and woman. You blink again and they are neither. “You’re Death.” Your voice echos through the void, and the being in front of you smiles and nods. “So I died.”

The beings shakes its head. “So I’m alive.” The being shakes its head again. 

“The void exists between life and death.” It’s voice is deep and soft but loud and forceful. It surrounds you and resounds inside of you. “You Are neither alive nor dead, so you exist within the void.”

“Will I die?” It tilts its head and fixes you with a cursory gaze. 

“Do you want to die?” The question is simple curiosity, and you find you don’t know how to answer. “I wouldn’t mind if you did. Twice you have eluded me. Once happens. I’m quite busy. The dead far out weight the living after all. But twice.” Death tsks at you, and the emotions you thought you were free of return. Worry creeps through your veins. Death likes order. Your Reaper had reminded you many times.

“Will I die?” You ask again. Dying doesn’t worry you, but Death does. The look in its ever shifting eyes leaves you with a sense of unease. Your Reaper said that without guidance souls would wander the world of the dead forever. Would Death leave you to wander as penance for your defiance? “Can I become a reaper?” 

A slow smile splits Death’s face. “You wish to join my reaper.” Death waves a hand, and your Reaper is before you. He stands still in his three piece suit, his face masked once more. You call to him, but he doesn’t hear you. You take a step towards him but find yourself no closer to him. Death waves a hand again, and he’s gone. You stand, staring at the empty spot. 

“I can make you a reaper.” His offer is a choice. 

“I don’t have to die.” You meet Death’s gaze, “I’ve asked you twice if I will die and twice you have avoided the question. You offer me the chance to be a reaper, but I don’t have to take it. I don’t have to die. I can live.”

Death nods. “Order sits upon a fulcrum. As you were not supposed to die this time, you won’t have to die, but as you were supposed to die before, you should die. Order would accept either.”

“And my friends?” 

Death shrugs. “They didn’t die. I have no right to them.”

“So I can live?”

Death nods. “But order must be restored.” You blink at that. “The living have no part in the world of the dead. If you choose to live, you will be fully in the world of the living with no memory of my world and only death will bring you back to it. Your clock will start again.”

Life is the obvious choice. Life with your family and your friends and all the possibilities that lay before you. It’s what you would have had if your reaper hadn’t come to you. But despite the obviousness of the choice, you don’t make it. Not yet. You pause and think of your reaper. He would want you to choose life. He had begged you to choose life, but still you hesitate. For the rest of your life, you will never see him again. You will never remember him. He stole your memories once, and their absence had gnawed at you, robbing you of sleep and leaving you a shadow of yourself. Could you live that way the rest of your life, knowing you are missing something, feeling half-formed?

“Will my reaper always be a reaper?”

“No.” Death shrugs. “No reapers remain for all eternity. All who were once living must pass on eventually.”  

“When would he?”

“Whenever he chooses.” His words from the bar come back to you. He’ll go when his friends come. You stopped their deaths. As long as they live, he will remain a reaper, alone watching over them. 

“Can I speak with him?” You want to tell him not to wait that you’ll watch over them for him, and when the time comes, you’ll all join him.

“He has no place here.”

“But you-he-” You point to the space he had occupied.

“An image pulled from your conscious.”

“So I can’t say goodbye?” The words are a whisper.

“You’ve made your choice then.”

You nod. “I want to live. 

Voices sound around you. They speak in soft whispers, their words indiscernible, and below the voices is a steady beep, beep, beep. This sound above all others keeps you from slipping back to sleep. Sleep grows further and further from you, and in its place, it leaves pain. Your chest burns with each breath and a dull pain throbs through your right arm. You try to move and adjust yourself, but your body refuses to respond.  “I think she’s awake.” A sob warps the whisper, but the words reach you. You are awake, though your eyes won’t open. “Sweetie, can you hear me?” A hand grasp your left hand. “If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand.” The task should be easy, but it takes ever ounce of your strength to curl your fingers around the hand. A sob sounds, and the hand in yours begins to shake. The other voices grow louder and closer, but you’ve used the last of your energy.  The next time you wake, you are able to open your eyes. Your mother sleeps in a chair to your left. You call to her, but your voice is a croak in the silence. She still hears it and is up and at your side in an instant. Over the next few days, consciousness returns in greater lengths. You learn you were in an accident, and that you nearly died. Minhyuk comes to see you the day after you opened your eyes. He cries when he sees you awake and runs from the room. Your mother brings him back, and he apologizes saying that it’s all his fault. He forgot his phone after he hung up with you, and he should have just told Hyunwoo to come pick you up.  Hyunwoo and the others come later that day. They bring you flowers and balloons, and all of them bare the same face as Minhyuk. They blame themselves for what happened. The crash is a blur in your memory, but you assure them it wasn’t their fault. You had been driving recklessly. If anyone is to blame, it is you. None of them accept that, and they proceed to dote on you during your stay in the Hospital. When the doctor clears you to leave, you cry in relief. Your apartment is blessedly empty, and you tell the boys that if they come over you will personally unman them. The silence in your room is a comfort, but even still it weighs heavy on your shoulders. The silence holds something a question? A memory? Whatever it is, it remains just out of your reach. When the boys invite you to their Christmas party, you gladly accept.  Getting ready is difficult. A cast still wraps itself around your right arm, and you struggle to zip up your dress. The boys said it is an informal party, but you’ve been wearing nothing but hospital gowns for the past week. You want to feel pretty tonight. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you catch a glimpse of something in the corner of your room, but when you look, you find the spot empty. Shaking your head, you slip on your jacket. You’ve had several similar instances since returning to your apartment.  Walking down the stairs, you smile at Hyolyn as she exits her apartment. Your near death experience had deflated any anger she had about you totaling her car. Plus, she had been planning on scrapping it any way. The two of you walk down the stairs together, chatting about your holiday plans and predicting what the coming semester will bring. When you walk out into the chill winter night, you find Hyunwoo waiting for you with his car. The sight sends a chill down your spine, unrelated to the winter wind, but you swallow your trepidation and smile as Hyunwoo holds the door open for you.  The party is at Hyunwoo and Kihyun’s apartment. There are more people than the seven of you. The boys have quite a collection of friends. And you find yourself keeping to the fringes of the party, exploring the boys’ apartment rather than interacting with the unfamiliar faces. As look through their bookshelves, your eye catches on a photo. Judging by the boys’ faces, it must be from their high school days. You smile as you pick out baby Changkyun and Hoseok before he started working out. Your smile falters as you notice a seventh member in the group. He’s sitting next to Minhyuk with his long legs pulled up to his chest. A lazy smile graces his face. As you stare, tears fill yours eyes.  “That’s Hyungwon.” Minhyuk’s words jolt you back to the present. You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes before he can see your tears. You don’t even know why you were crying.

“You guys seem really close with him. Why haven’t I met him yet?”

“He died a year ago.” The knowledge tugs at a memory, but when you try to grasp it, it flies away. You’re left staring at Minhyuk flapping your mouth as you try to formulate a response. Minhyuk throws an arm around your shoulder and guides you away from the picture. “We should be celebrating. You’re alive and well, and Christmas is around the corner.” You nod and let Minhyuk pull you back into the party. Neither of you notice the man standing by the bookshelf. He stands, elegant in his three piece suit. His face, smooth and crisp in its shape, holds no emotion. His arms hang languidly at his side, the thumb of his left hand loops lazily in his pocket, pushing up his sleeve and revealing the edge of a worn watch, the first of seven he will wear.