“Good evening, god of Death,” Eon Jin greeted the deity with customary respect.
The young boy stepped out of the shadow of one of the dwarf hinoki cypress trees adorning the hospital’s roof deck garden, then walked towards Eon Jin with leisured steps, both his hands kept behind his back. He had a very likeable face — big round eyes, a button of a nose, puffy cheeks, a slight overbite — and an equally cute bowl cut.
With a calculating side gaze, he leaned on the glass that lined the edge of the roof deck and took out a lollipop from the pocket of his shorts.
“I always assumed you would be bored at some point,” he told Eon Jin as he clumsily removed the wrapping of the candy. “It’s just fascinating how it took you this long before you went against your instincts — being the ever-obedient disciple that you are — and actually interfered with mortal affairs.”
Eon Jin stood up to face Death, keeping her back stiffly straight and hands clasped tightly in front of her.
“I assure you that it was neither premeditated nor intentional,” she explained. “However, it was a clear lapse in my judgment. Please accept my apologies.”
The boy slid the lollipop to his mouth, sucking for a few good seconds, then moved it to the side of his mouth to speak.
“No need to bother about it that much,” he assured Eon Jin. “The course significantly changed prior to the accident anyway, therefore I couldn’t be certain if your intervention indeed cost me a soul based on the revised design.”
“What about Kang Myeong Suk?” she asked the deity.
“I believe he is still alive,” Death said. “Nonetheless, that is something the grim reapers and I would have to worry about.”
When she did not react, he cleared it up for her by stating, “That means you are still on my good side, mistress.”
“Thank you, your divinity,” Eon Jin said, giving him a slight bow. “Thank you for your grace.”
“I could not say the same with Fate, though,” he sighed. “Have you heard from her yet?”
Eon Jin shook her head.
“That’s strange,” Death thought to himself while playing with the lollipop. “I thought she would have paid you a visit before I did.”
“She may be a bit… unpredictable,” Eon Jin said, hesitating at the last word though she was brave enough to look straight into Death’s eyes. “Just the same, I know she would not let this one pass.”
“It’s very likely that you are right,” he agreed. “Anyway, you know her better than I do — with you sharing her persona, consciousness, and all that.”
The boy then pushed himself off the railing and turned to face Eon Jin.
“Don’t worry. Whatever happens, I will make sure to get you out of that mess,” he assured her earnestly, sealing it with a charming wink that made Eon Jin smile in spite of herself.
Shortly afterwards, the god inquired, “The mortal is safe, I presume?”
“Yes, he is,” she confirmed. “Other than some bruises and a broken arm, he is doing alright.”
“That’s good to hear. Otherwise, going through all of those inconveniences would end up being nugatory,” he said.
“I suppose you are right.”
“I am curious about one thing, though.”
“Please ask away,” Eon Jin offered.
“It has been three hundred and seventeen years, yet never once did you deviate from Fate’s order,” Death pondered to himself, digging his hands into the front pocket of his pullover. “I even took a strong liking towards you because you have been very thorough in carrying out your tasks, as you have disciplined yourself early on to keep a tight rein on your emotions — the feeling of sympathy, to be specific. I’ve always told everyone that you and I share the same beliefs and ethics, and that it’s a shame you did not come to serve at my house.”
“Nonetheless, last night was a revelation,” he continued. “It turned out that like everything else in this world, there was an exception — even for someone as iron-willed as you.”
Eon Jin’s eyes slowly drifted downwards, settling on the deity’s feet. Her thumb was subtly rubbing the back of her other hand in a steady motion, as if she was subconsciously tempering the anxiety building inside her.
Death took a couple of steps closer to Eon Jin until he only needed to look up to meet her downcast gaze.
“I wonder what makes this mortal the exception to your rule, mistress?” he asked Eon Jin as he stood on tiptoe, his big eyes reflecting his unquenchable interest.
And although she was certain that it would be unwise for her to do it, Eon Jin steeled herself to make her lie more believable.
“Nothing, your divinity,” she replied with a vacant expression. “It was purely coincidental.”
Death held her eyes for a few more seconds before giving Eon Jin a seemingly convinced smile.
“If you say so,” he told her. “It intrigues me that there is still a bit of humanity in you, after all.”
“Perhaps, you are correct,” Eon Jin said, more to herself than to the god before her. “The vestigial frailness of a mortal might still exist in me. Not much on the exterior, but deep beneath the surface.”
“Maybe I was just too good at ruling my entire being that I was able to keep that part locked in a dark corner. And by doing so, I was able to live through this eternal punishment that was inflicted on me three hundred and seventeen years ago,” she proceeded to muse, her sight fixated on a random fleck of amber in the deity’s eyes. “Can you imagine how I endured being a witness to the misfortunes from all those years, watching on the sidelines as countless men, women, and children begged, wept, and prayed to the heavens for a bit of mercy?”
“I had to oversee everything — from beginning to end — in order to ensure that Fate’s designed course takes place in proper sequence, detail by detail,” she told him, trying in vain to tone down the upbraiding in her voice.
Eon Jin’s gaze slowly came into focus. Before she knew it, she was already engaging in a staring match with the deity.
“Wouldn’t you agree that it is understandable for that humanity to resurface even just for once?”
A bitter autumn wind suddenly blew past them, the awkward silence between them becoming more pronounced. It was only then did Eon Jin realize that her eyes were becoming misty, and that a lump on her throat was — among others — making it impossible for her to retract every single word she said to the divinity.
“Touché,” the god acknowledged.
“I must remind you, though” — he proceeded, the earlier amusement etched in his face long gone — “that life is a cycle. Birth, death, and the years of living in between… all these three are important, for one will not exist without the other. Mortals celebrate birth and everything that follows, yet they detest death.”
Eon Jin averted Death’s eyes by looking at the sky that was smeared with different hues of orange and pink, while at the same time trying to blink back the tears which were already on the verge of falling.
“Mortals are afraid to confront the end because they are not sure whether or not they have started living in the first place. There’s always that feeling of being disappointed over something they have not done yet, something they have not said yet,” the deity explained. “In the end, it all comes down to regret. And the concept of death makes people realize all these things, therefore making them understand and be obsessed — to a certain extent — with the significance of time.”
“Death is non-negotiable; so is birth,” he told her. “It might seem unfortunate to you that it is you and I who are in charge of the less-liked facet. Nevertheless, death has to happen so that the other concepts of life can serve their true purpose.”
The deity flashed a grin that extended from one ear to another, then said, “That’s something to think about every time you feel that this punishment of yours is already taking its toll on you. I hope it makes you feel better somehow.”
✽✽✽
It was already past noon when the loaves completely cooled down, the temperature low enough for the breads to be wrapped in some fancy paper without getting it damp.
“It’s strange that they simply let it slip,” Hyo Jin shared her insights to Eon Jin as she sat on one of the couches in the living room, waiting for the mistress to finish her chores in the kitchen. “I was kind of expecting that either they disqualify you from being reincarnated for the rest of infinity or they add three more centuries to your sentence.”
“As far as I know, I got myself off the hook due to some technicalities,” Eon Jin said as she handed Hyo Jin a basket of the baked goods she prepared earlier.
“Oooh… is this all for me?” the grim reaper giddily asked.
“No,” Eon Jin flatly replied. “But, would you be a dear and give this to Death on my behalf?”
“Hey, Son Eon Jin. You said you already got cleared of all charges. Why are you still bribing that kid?” Hyo Jin pouted as she quickly hid the basket behind her.
“Just because,” Eon Jin shrugged. “Anyway, I will go and get changed, be back here in fifteen to twenty minutes, and then we can leave together. Watch TV or something while waiting for me, alright?”
“Wait! Go where?”
“You, to your deity. Me, downstairs,” she spelled out to Hyo Jin. “I’m going to find Kim Tae Pyung and talk to him about what happened — especially the recent memory I pulled up from that night at the river.”
“But it’s wine night, you said!” Hyo Jin protested, albeit a little too late since Eon Jin was already on her way to her room to take a quick bath.
✽✽✽
Back to the night of their conversation, after Eon Jin gave her parting bow, the god of Death walked straight to the fire exit located at the far corner of the roof deck and descended the stairs.
On the landing of the seventeenth floor, a tall woman with an oval face, high cheekbones, and piercing brown eyes waited for him as she stood behind the glass of the building’s stairwell, her arms crossed on her stomach as she waited for the exact moment of daybreak.
She was wearing a suit of her trademark emerald color, while her long black hair fell like curtains on both sides of her slender face.
“I do not understand why you can’t just let her know that she is already exonerated from all this,” Death said as he took his place beside her.
“Son Eon Jin is a smart girl,” Fate replied. “She will figure it out.”
“Now that you mentioned it, do you think she already knows the truth about the man?”
Fate let out a sigh, then nodded.
“She does not understand all the details yet,” the deity clarified to the god of Death. “However, in spite of the lie she told you a while ago, she surely has come to realize by now that there is indeed a connection between the man and her memories, that everything is not at all coincidental.”
“What about the reason behind his uncanny ability to see her?” Death asked.
With a sigh, Fate confirmed, “She will, eventually.”
“I actually agree with everything the man told her,” she added. “He said that before them are pieces of a puzzle waiting to be completed and reflected on as a whole — and that makes perfect sense. Then again, I sincerely hope that her heart will be ready when she finally sees the entire picture.”
Just as Fate said it, the sun started to rise, marking the beginning of a new day.
Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash
Comments (0)
See all