They received the phone call about half an hour from when Eun Tak let go of his hand.

Yoo Deok Hwa was a blessing. After receiving the call from Wang Yeo, he left the company office and drove to his uncle’s house like the speed demon he was. Rain poured relentlessly, the winds beginning to pick up quicker than a normal storm. His gut told him something very bad happened (and he is quite sure about who is involved in it), his suspicions further strengthening by the sudden downpour.

Arriving in no time at his uncle’s house, he had no thought of being fortunate not to crash his car. He haphazardly opened the door, an expression of disbelief in his features. I still saw her last night. She and my uncle were still disgustingly sweet last night.

Wang Yeo was standing in front of him, head bowed and shoulders hunched. Deok Hwa could barely see the subdued trembling of his tall, slight frame, but it was present. The rim of his hat was dented by his tight grip, to Deok Hwa’s surprise. (He always held the hat with care and a hint of pride.) When the older man looked up, the silent tears running down his cheeks hit him like a ton of bricks.

How deep could grief run to bring about such tears from someone well-versed in death?

Swallowing his grief (even just for a moment), Deok Hwa inquired, “Uncle Tenant, where is my uncle?”

Wang Yeo drew a deep breath, “Dokkaebi…Kim Shin—“

Deok Hwa dared to grip the man’s coat, uncaring, “What happened?” He pointedly asked.

Sad eyes turned to his, disappointment clouding his features. “Eun Tak-ah passed away.”

Anger rushed in him unexpectedly. Deok Hwa, with a force he didn’t expect to unravel, shook Wang Yeo’s frame. (Wang Yeo could have resisted, but emptiness blossomed somewhere his non-beating heart. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – find the strength). “What did you do?” Deok Hwa yelled.

Wang Yeo knew the extent of his anger, but Deok Hwa’s anger – something Kim Shin should have thrown at him – reverberated in him.

“It was a choice she made,” he simply answered, finding nothing to suffice.

Deok Hwa laughed heartlessly, hollow cackles filling the barren living room. “How could you—“

“Yoo Deok Hwa.”

Kim Shin’s broken voice washed Deok Hwa in sobriety. The widowed goblin was standing by the door of his room, reddened eyes directed on the ground. With purposeful steps, Deok Hwa went to his uncle.

“Is he telling the truth?” The younger man demanded. “Is she really gone?”

A sob forced its way to Kim Shin’s lips.

Instinctively, Deok Hwa pulled his uncle against his slighter frame, the way Kim Shin held him during his grandfather’s death. His own tears came, and he couldn’t deny how pitiful they all are. They were so happy – even if he wanted to cringe every moment his eyes happened to sway to Kim Shin and Eun Tak the night before – and fate is so, so cruel.

His uncle’s phone rang from his pocket. Kim Shin didn’t move, his arms remaining slack on his sides. Deok Hwa slipped the phone off his uncle’s pocket, taking the call.

“Good afternoon. Is this Mr. Yoo Shin Jae?”

Deok Hwa cleared his voice, answering. “This is Yoo Deok Hwa speaking. I am with my uncle. What do you need him for?”

“This is Detective Seo Myung Joo from the I—police department. Your uncle is listed as Ms. Ji Eun Tak’s emergency contact.”

“Yes, he is her husband.”

“Mr. Yoo, I regret to be the bearer of this very sad news. A woman identified as Ms. Yoo through her belongings was killed in a vehicular accident. Would you please come to confirm her identity?”

The next few hours came to Deok Hwa in a blur. With Wang Yeo’s assistance, the three men were able to arrive at the morgue. His training paid off well as he coordinated with CEO Kim about the latest developments and arrangements to be made. He kept his eyes on the road, careful with every inch of the road he covered. His eyes never strayed to the backseat, not even to the mirror reflecting his uncle’s shaken form.

They arrived at the designated place, Deok Hwa still leading their group. They met the detective, and was ushered to the room. At its door, Deok Hwa and Wang Yeo didn’t step further.

It seemed as if all the answers to their questions are Kim Shin’s cries.

(There was a body on the metal table. Pale features remained slack. Hair laid limp and dull. Lips were almost white with the lack of blood and lip gloss shimmer. Thin cloth covered most of the body, and Kim Shin hurried to her side. You’re going to be cold, Eun Tak-ah. Why did you forget your scarf at home? He took her limp hand, her wedding ring still shining (as if it was intentionally left). His lips felt the cold, but all he could think was how he could bring warmth back to her.

But he couldn’t now, could he?)

--

The funeral was private.

Ji Eun Tak – or Ji-PD, as she was fondly called – was visited by her colleagues. Condolences were sent and prayers were whispered, and the task of receiving everyone was left in Deok Hwa and CEO Kim’s hand.

All Kim Shin asked was to be given the space he wished, and the well-wishers had no choice but to respect his decision.

The only one who was able to pass was the woman in red.

She visited when the night was already settled. The visitors had long been gone. In the morning, her ashes would be brought to Canada, where her physical remnants would lie alongside Kim Shin and his makeshift family. The woman in red wanted Kim Shin’s attention, and it was the only way to reach him.

She sat beside his still form, his eyes unwavering from his bride’s image. She took the crumpled form of his suit, and sighed in hopelessness.

“Why did you not save her?” He asked in resignation.

“Why did you save her first?” She answered back.

“Is losing her my punishment for disrupting the balance of life and death?”

“There is no greater reward nor punishment than love.”

Kim Shin met her eye, and even as a deity, was unnerved by the suffering she saw.

“You were happy when you created her. I was very happy when I stayed with her. Is it not fair to spare her from all this? To spare from all this? Why are you never on our side? My side?”

Even with glassy eyes, her hands remained steady as she reached for Kim Shin’s head and patted it. (Kim Shin remembered Eun Tak doing the same thing that one last time, and pain gripped his heart something fierce.)

“Good people always leave, but they always stay too. Your bride already planted her seeds. Let your love endure this, my dear warrior boy.”

--

The rain poured as soon as his bride’s ashes were interred, but Kim Shin stood under the downpour. He realized that the rain blurred his senses, and he felt a bit closer to mortality.

(The rain soaked him, reminding him that it is his doing and that he is not any closer to death.)

The cluck of heels was hushed by the grass, but the rhythm of footsteps was unmistakable. The person stopped beside him, her umbrella partly sheltering his shoulder.

“Orabeoni.”

Sunny was radiant even in black, her flaming hair a contrast to her mood. Even the brightness she carried was dimmed, he noticed. He watched as she carefully placed a small bouquet on the ground.

“Were you too sad to forget about your sister?” She looked at him, her face showing her displeasure with him. “You actually forgot that Ji Eun Tak is dear to me. That punk, Yoo Deok Hwa, was the only one who had the decency to find me.”

“You always forget to choose me,” Kim Shin pointedly answered.

Sunny scoffed jokingly, but the trembling of her lips was evident.

“Eun Tak once told me that she could control the weather, make it rain less for the citizen’s sake.” The former queen stared at a distance. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer.

Sunny reached for his hands, calloused with war and time. “So this is how it feels to be left behind.”

Brother and sister, parted by their destinies, stood side by side. They stayed together, the same way they once came as a unit before she became his queen. Kim Shin would have wanted her words, but appreciated this Kim Sun’s respect and need to grieve in solitude.

They’ve already grieved too much for love.

“I’m sorry she left you first. I’m sorry I’ll be leaving you too.”

He tightened his grip on her hand in understanding. “I’m sorry I can’t follow soon enough.”

They stood together until the clouds have nothing left to rain, and with its end the last woman in Kim Shin’s life walked away.

Their farewell was the coldest and saddest night recorded in centuries.