Death was simple. Death was equal. Death was an inescapable constant, and that kept order in an otherwise chaotic universe. Everyone had their time, and Death always knew when to show up and deliver. It was a simple job, an orderly job, and Death knew how to do it.

But sometimes, Fate intervened.

The scene was set up obviously; a junkie overdosed on heroine in a room with a few others swimming in a drug induced haze. None of them would notice his absence until long after his soul had departed. However, a hand reached out to halt Death's approach on the young soul.

"It's his time," Death objected. "You know this."

"I see things you don't," said Fate, voice honeyed and serene.

"You deal in matters of death," Death reminded.

"Yes." Fate smiled in a knowing manner which might have been infuriating with its frequency had Death the capability to feel strongly. "I also deal in matters of love."

Death watched as Fate brushed a hand against the shoulder of another boy in the room. He looked back at the touch and his eyes alit on the mutual target of the two powers that be. 

"Call 911!" he shouted when he noticed the blue surrounding his lips.

Death could only watch.

The ambulance arrived and the junkie was lifted onto a gurney and transported to the Emergency Room. His weak pulse was strengthened by the medical measures taken to retrieve his life before it could be taken. His poisoned body was treated until his breathing came steady again, and he slept peacefully in the white room surrounded by machinery that beeped softly.

And Death could only watch.

"What matters of love are in his future?" Death asked skeptically.

Fate smiled knowingly again as a man in a white coat entered the room. As if silently prompted, the junkie's eyes flickered open and he glanced around in confusion.

"Kim Himchan," the doctor said, lifting and glancing over the papers on his clipboard. "Overdose on diamorphine," he murmured, more to himself, before lowering the papers to smile at his patient. "You gave your friends quite a scare."

The patient reached a hand up to rub at his eyes. "Where are my friends?" he muttered groggily.

"They're being patient in the waiting room. You can see them after you've rested a while longer."

Kim Himchan assessed the man standing in front of him, clean scrubs and white smile mirroring the brightly sterile surroundings. "Am I dead?"

The doctor breathed a short laugh. "No," he assured. "You're not in hell, and I'm not some demon. See?" He did a quick turn. "No tail."

Still sleepy and expressionless, Himchan's gaze glided over the pale walls, the pastel curtains, the bright windows. "I was thinking the other place," he murmured, more to himself.

The doctor smiled again, less bright and more compassionate. "You should get some more rest," he said. "I'll come back to check on you later today."

With each hour, Himchan's hold on life became steadily stronger and further from Death's grasp. Fate lingered, however, so Death did as well, standing on a curious pretense of unfinished business.

"I thought you might like some tea," greeted the doctor on the second day as he backed into the room holding a plastic tray. "Something a bit warmer than the meals here at least." He set the tray down and smiled warmly before ticking off the usual checkmarks of his patient's health.

"Lavender," Himchan commented. "That's… unusual."

The doctor smirked, keeping his focus mainly on one of the monitors. "Your friend mentioned you liked it."

There was a considerate pause. "Were you the one who saved my life?"

It was a bit sudden, and the doctor Iicked his lips and glanced downward before answering, "I, and a team of skilled and caring individuals."

Himchan didn't meet the eyes that were directed at him, staring instead at the tray that was set before him. "Thank you." 

"It's no problem at all," the other responded with a smile. "Is there anything else I can get you while I'm here?"

He was waved off with a mumbled "no thanks" before he excused himself from the room.

On the third day, Himchan was cleared to check out of the hospital. A nurse checked all his vital signs. No words passed between them for a stretch of time.

"Who's the doctor who checks on me?" he finally asked, looking inquisitively at the nurse who was pumping air into an apparatus on his arm.

"Doctor Bang?" she asked, glancing between him and his blood pressure reading.

"Is he working today?"

She wrote down some numbers and removed the object before answering. "Doctor Bang is busy in another ward today."

Himchan frowned and fell again into relative silence.

Death looked on, still waiting for the sign that Fate would provide to justify the interception in Death's affairs. Himchan had already left his room and had checked out with the desk before that sign came, just on the way out the door.

"Kim Himchan," his doctor called from down a hallway. "It's nice to see you walking around."

Himchan turned at the doctor's smiling approach and nodded modestly. "They said I'm fit to leave," he said.

"That's great," the doctor said with a grin. "Well, I hope to see you again under better circumstances."

Himchan smiled a little, Iicking his lips and glancing downward before responding. "I play music. My friends and I, we… We usually play down at this bar downtown, The Sphynx, I don't know if you've heard of it? I'm not much of a singer, that's more Daehyun's… I mean I play drums, but what I'm getting at is you… You should come sometime." He finished sheepishly and scratched nervously at his arm, noticing the slight amusement in the other's expression.

"I think I will," his doctor said. "By the way, my name is Yongguk." He held out his hand.

"Yongguk," Himchan repeated as he took it. A smile flitted between them. "I look forward to it."