In a span of two centuries, there are three recorded rainfalls that lasted almost endlessly. It poured. It drizzled. It raged. It quietened. The world was awash with such sorrow, as if purging itself from its scars. People attributed it to climate change, saying that nature finally avenges the ruin it incurred. In part, it is.

In part, it isn’t.

-

Ji Eun Tak’s second life is in the form of Park So Min. She retained her optimism and joie de vivre, her determination and intelligence, her kindness and selflessness. She’s born to the same mother, and a father is present in her life. She gained a little brother in the former chairman Yoo, and Kim Shin prayed fervently for the graciousness God gave his loved ones in this lifetime.

They began in Canada. She stayed briefly, and he promised to be in Korea in no time.

She met Deok Hwa again, now with wife and three children by his side. The children adored Kim Shin, and the latter noticed a hint of sadness in his bride’s face as she watched them. His heart echoed the ache of their previous life – the reason behind her first death and the stolen future – and wondered what could have been.

(Deok Hwa would notice this – he is nothing of not observant – and would whisper a small prayer for them to have more years this time around.)

The aged former CEO Kim also visited, and the look of recognition in his face said it all. Eun Tak reached for his hand in gratitude for looking after Shin even if he is not blood-bound to do so, and the old man held her like a long-lost daughter. (CEO Kim would have reasoned out that with his age came sentimentality. He would never tell them how relieved he is for her return for the Goblin’s sake.)

It was still a heartfelt family reunion, even if they’re two family members short.

(We will have this lifetime and all the others, Shin swore to himself.)

They found the old library Kim Shin they visited so often. Kim Shin bought it and had it preserved, same as the restored house he still stayed in. The pages of the old books might have withered and new voices might have filled the shelves, but the haven remained untouched by the seasons. Kim Shin would wait for her there every day, and his bride would always come. She would bring her school work, and he was glad that she didn’t have to struggle making ends meet unlike before. He would watch her, and she would watch him, and the same gripping love surged between them (especially Kim Shin), the first time she came running to him against the backdrop of the changing season.

He let her grow and chase her dreams, and in turn she showered her with the love she could. She stayed by his side. He stayed by her side. He grew with her and grew in love with her again, and everything was so pure without the looming threat of death nearby.

He was introduced to her family when she was finishing university. Her father was adamant at first because of the seemingly mature taste of his daughter, but was more taken by Kim Shin’s gentleness to his daughter than his wealth. Her mother, on the other hand, approved. (As if she’s always known who Kim Shin is.) Her little brother adored him, just like Deok Hwa’s children, which didn’t surprise the couple. After all, the former chairman did love Kim Shin as much as he could.

They married once more, the affair shared between their families. They ate and danced and sang and laughed their way through the night. At the end of the day, they lay at the same bed they laid into in their first night as husband and wife.

Kim Shin brought her in the buckwheat field as part of their honeymoon, and they made love under the stars.

[Just as she promised, as soon as they crossed the makeshift threshold of the field, Eun Tak grabbed his neck and came to him. She kissed him as tears streamed down her face, hungrily taking her husband’s lip between hers. In between the kisses, she repeatedly apologized (the same way she did when she walked away from him at the Reaper’s tea house). She caressed every inch of skin her hands could reach, and slid her hands beneath the clothes that covered him. She explored him once more, her memories overflowing of the first night they shared a bed. She slid against his lithe body, unchanged just like everything about him, and prayed that this won’t be their only night.]

One day, Kim Shin crossed paths with the goddess in red, and she gave him a wistful smile.

Nine months later, they were granted a miracle.

(The day the goblin and her bride met their daughter, the goddess of fertility shed tears of happiness for the first time since Eun Tak’s first birth.)

They named her for hope, and watched her take all her firsts. Kim Shin was aware that this is their child’s first life, and did his best to give her all the love he could spare.

The goddess of fertility and birth took a liking to Kim Shin – almost a millennium too late – and watched over their little family. Eun Tak, as Kim Shin would always call his bride, grew older. Their child grew older. Kim Shin wouldn’t age, but he did appear older in parallel to his wife with the goddess’s tricks. She and his wife stayed together for fifty-three years.

When his bride died in her sleep, he saw her off in the same tea house. Wang Yeo’s Reaper hoobae now held jurisdiction, and just the same as before, Eun Tak didn’t take the tea. She apologized once more, and even in his sadness, Kim Shin hoped his bride will come soon enough.

--

Upon celebrating a century after their second marriage, they met again.

She was traveling with her family to Canada. He was setting candles on his bride’s tombstones when he heard familiar footsteps crunching the freshly mowed grass. She walked towards him, in the same age and same face during her first death. She apologized for coming a bit later, words of hopelessness from her lips. She traveled the world at her young age, and was too sheltered because of her life. (I kept on missing you, she whispered in apology, crying).

He took her in his arms, and the coldness that haunted his chest began to melt.

They didn’t leave Canada this time. Her work, at the most opportune time, got her settled in the place where it all began. She told her parents she would stay, and they came with her to help her get settled. She was hoping he’d find him here again, and God must have been merciful enough.

In this life, she lived a grand life – daughter to a prominent world leader – and Kim Shin laughed for the first time in years by the way she scoffed at the lavishness of her life. She was so humble and so simple in all her lives, and he couldn’t help but tell her he loves her.

She for not wasting any time saying those words. She told him she loves him too, anyway.

They met her family under the guise that she corresponded with Kim Shin for a long time. She was born to a different mother, but her father – Shin smiled, remembering CEO Kim’s sentimentality a life time ago translated to familial ties this time around. In this lifetime, Eun Tak is the younger child.

When he met her brother, a fresh batch of tears threatened to prickle his eyes. His bride gripped on his hand under the table as he was introduced to his old friend.

The Wang Yeo in his last lifetime remained serious but very caring. Kim Shin could detect a hint of loneliness in the depth of the man’s eyes, and was saddened by the idea that his friend would not meet his sister in this life time. This Wang Yeo cared for his own sister so much, and it was where he poured his efforts. Just like the olden days, they bantered but got along well, and the nostalgia it brought resonated within Kim Shin.

Eun Tak asked after their daughter, and Kim Shin told her all the stories she missed. How she grew to an old age. How she remained by his side. How she would like to be reborn as their daughter again. How she passed in her sleep with the same smile in her mother’s own face. They mourned for the daughter they haven’t seen in a long time, but they kept on moving forward, bringing their daughter in their heart in all their journeys.

They married the third time, and with the world at the palm of her hand, the goblin and his bride explored the world like any other person would. They wined and dined across continents, spent their days in each other’s company, and generally enjoyed the time they had in the world –

Because the clock always ticked. Because Kim Shin could suspend time, but not long enough to change the course of life.

They didn’t cross their fiftieth anniversary this time. They barely passed their tenth year. They didn’t meet their daughter together (Kim Shin would, decades after his bride’s death, meet their child hand in hand with the latest Yoo heir, the child who first serve the goblin years ago).

The goblin’s bride had been sickly in this lifetime, and she died a withered body but a full heart.

(She refused the tea once more, now from Wang Yeo’s former female servant.)

(With her death, this lifetime’s Wang Yeo built new walls, watching over the groom of his sister. They would remain friends to the end, and in his last breaths Wang Yeo would confess that Eun Tak told him to watch over him.)

--

It took her another century to come back, to the point Kim Shin almost lost hope.

(He wondered why, and she would tell him that it was a bargain that had its terms to be fulfilled.)

They would meet in the middle of another war. Kim Shin exchanged his sword for scalpels and dressings. It was easier to save lives inconspicuously this way, and he wanted to spare his hands from shedding blood.

She became a medic herself, an angel in her patient’s eyes. She was gentle and genuine, a reflection of all her old selves. They met after a bombing that nearly ran their makeshift hospital to the ground, when he saved her from getting trapped beneath the rubble. The way he reached for her was instinctive, holding her fragile human body against his chest and with his arms cradling her in familiarity. When he held her, she released a sharp breath.

(The first time she found him in her last lifetime, she cupped his face and kissed him with longing outpouring from her lips. You’re safe. You’re here. You’re really here. She kept on whispering against his lips.)

Her last life wasn’t an easy life, but they loved each other with the same degree of love amidst the war. They worked side by side, saving one life at a time. In their spare time, they made love beneath the fragile shelter of their tents and against the creaking mattresses. They shed their bloodstained clothes and touch each other as if it were their last (and it was the last chance they have). His lips were trailblazers scavenging from her navel to her lips, and she made him moan her name against her sweat-lined neck. They spared no passion unshared.

Three years to the war, a bomb was dropped in the quiet of the night. Releasing his bride from his hold, the goblin went out of their tent, his unclothed upper body being kissed by the warmth in the air. Amidst the fire, he saw face he never thought he would see again, in a suit and hat he shouldn’t be wearing.

Wang Yeo approached him, a sad smile in his face.

“You’ve done enough. It’s time to let it all go.”

Kim Shin recognized his own words. Dread flooded in his features. Registering the look in his face, Wang Yeo spoke, “Don’t worry.”

A blanket was pulled out of thin air, and he passed it to Kim Shin. The latter draped it on himself. Wang Yeo walked ahead of him, moving the makeshift door of the tent.

“For old time’s sake?”

Kim Shin went inside.

It was the same tea room from lifetime’s ago, the last destination he would always watch his bride cross into. He noticed that he was dressed in one of his favored clothes from a century ago, an old coat over his dark turtleneck sweater and slacks, the same clothes he was wearing the first time he came running to her after her first death. She sat on the same chair, across the Reaper’s, and hearing him approach had her angling her body towards his direction.

She remained twenty-nine years old in all her crossings.

Kim Shin knelt before her. This time, he was the one blurting out apologies while holding Eun Tak’s waist. His body shook in fear of abandonment, strong hands gripping his bride’s clothes. His incoherent don’t leave mes and I love yous and I’m sorrys rushed like a fervent prayer. He could feel Eun Tak caressing his hair, and he savored the feel of it. She brushed his cheek with her thumb, tilting his chin up.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I didn’t save you from dying one last time.”

“It’s not your turn to do the saving now.”

His tears widened in surprise, making Eun Tak giggle even in tears. She continued caressing her face, “Silly goblin, why do you think I took so long to come back?”

She took his arms that wrapped her waist, and pulled him up.

(He couldn’t stop crying.)

“You know, God grants one wish whenever we cross to his side of life. Again and again, I wished for more time with you. Or a deeper sense of love with you. I wished to never forget, to find you in all my lifetimes. Since it’s my last lifetime, I made the most out of it. I’m giving that wish to you.” Eun Tak wiped the tear that traced down his cheek. “Will you come home with me now?”

Kim Shin weaved his hands on Eun Tak’s, his thumb feeling the wedding ring he gave to her again and again in all their weddings.

He looked in her eyes and nodded. A joyous smile broke from Eun Tak’s lips. She tiptoed for a kiss, never letting go of his hand.

From his periphery, Kim Shin saw Wang Yeo smiling, reminiscent of his conspicuous smile during his first wedding. From the window by the door, his sister’s familiar face was beaming. Wang Yeo opened the door to meet Sunny, and Sunny waved before chasing her own lover.

Hand in hand, Kim Sun and Eun Tak walked towards the door. Eun Tak let him open it, and they took their first steps to heaven together.