Haneul obeyed and stayed silent the entire ride, not uttering a single word until they reached a wide, still lake. The surface gleamed fiercely under the sky. The sun hung large and low, tinged with red, and its reflection turned the lake into something that looked eerily like a pool of blood.

Jin lifted Haneul carefully from the cart and set him down near the water's edge.

"You're so considerate," Haneul murmured, voice barely a whisper. "You placed me close enough so I won't die of thirst…"

"I'm going now," Jin said, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He hated this. Every part of it. But he had no choice except to obey… or so he believed. 

This was the only kindness he could offer Haneul now.

Haneul tried to turn his head, wanting to look at Jin one last time. The moonlight fell across his face - once pale as fresh milk, now bruised, dust-covered, swollen. Only one of his eyes was visible, and even that one had been punched until it was nearly shut. Yet somehow, he still found the strength to smile.

It was a soft and gentle smile, a smile so sincere that Jin felt he did not deserve it.

"Thank you."

Those were Haneul's final sincere words to him.

After everything Jin had done…

After every time he escorted Haneul into the hands of men consumed with lecherousness, even men who had fallen for the beauty of another man, did he really deserve gratitude? After delivering him to hell, again and again?

"Why?" Jin bowed his head, shame burning hot in his chest. "Why would you thank me? You should hate me!"

"What are you saying, stupid?" Haneul laughed weakly. "Why would I hate you? We're friends. Childhood… friends."

That was all? That was all it took for Haneul to not hate him?

Jin's heart twisted violently, as though someone was crushing it with all their strength, over and over again. The pain of watching it shatter felt unbearable.

He turned away abruptly, ready to leave before he broke down.

"Then… since it's the blood moon tonight, and if the legends are true…" Jin's voice shook, his chin trembling as he fought not to cry. 

"I pray that the Moon Goddess appears and grants you your last wish… I pray that… you blossom white."

He couldn't stay long enough to hear Haneul's reply. Haneul simply watched his back fade into the dark trees and smiled faintly to himself.

"Idiot… he's still so naive… That's just a story for children."

Several minutes passed.

A single droplet of blood slipped from Haneul's fingertips and fell into the lake. The moment it touched the surface, the moon overhead flared into a vivid, hungry red, as though it had been starving for blood and had finally been fed.

The world shifted, and the forest stirred to life.

Golden fireflies rose in swarms, making a strange, chiming hum as if announcing the arrival of someone divine. The trees groaned and swayed under a sudden heavy wind. The lake rippled violently, as though thunder had struck the water itself.

A chilling, uncanny feeling wrapped around the entire forest.

And then…

Bare feet appeared on the lake's surface, standing directly in front of him. They were pale, smooth, and unmoving.

Haneul's injured eyes blurred the world, but he could still make out the white silhouette draped in a dark crimson.

Is… the legend true after all?

"Who…?" Haneul rasped, voice barely clinging to his last breath.

"You're here." A deep male voice answered.

Haneul didn't even have the strength to tilt his head up toward the speaker. All he could whisper was, 

"Moon… Goddess…?"

"I'm no goddess." The voice corrected him. It was gentle, but unmistakably male.

Of course. A god, not a goddess.

"Ah… so I really am dying," Haneul mumbled. "I'm seeing things the dead must see… even gods…"

"My poor Haneul…" The man's voice trembled faintly, as though heavy with despair, heavy with understanding. 

"What is your last wish?"

So the legend was true, after all, with only one detail mistaken. It wasn't a goddess who appeared, but a god. The pale white feet were so beautiful, so delicate, that people must have assumed him a woman before hearing his voice. One ankle was adorned with a gold-and-pearl anklet that shimmered under the red moonlight, the white pearls now a soft pink.

"I heard…" Haneul began, speaking as if he had all the time in the world, certain he was already dead, "that if you commit a grave sin in your past life… You live an unfortunate life in the next one. It's called Karma."

"It is true," the god replied. His voice was deep but soothing, like a lullaby meant to cradle Haneul into eternal rest.

"Then… my last wish is…" Haneul's breathing grew thin. "To go back to my past life and correct my sins… so I won't have to continue this godforsaken existence… if I'm ever reborn again."

"I see," The god's tone softened, "So that is your wish."

A tall shadow fell over Haneul as the figure leaned closer, blocking the moonlight from his face, though never touching him.

"Hey…" Haneul whispered, voice dreamlike. "Did you know… today is my birthday?"

He couldn't see the god's expression, but he could feel the god giving a calm, quiet smile.

"Very well," the god murmured, "Then that is all the more reason to grant your wish."

He paused.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he added, "It's your… ######."

Haneul's eyes widened, shock jolting through his fading body.

He couldn't believe what he had heard.