Two men, well, um, spirits? Demons? Whatever! Two inhuman males are standing there. Standing there as their arms wrapped around each other, neither one wanting to let go first. Embracing one another so tightly, their bodies shook as though they were crying. Wait, were they crying?

Bull.

Mr. Demon doesn’t cry.

I mean, I have no proof to back up this claim as there has certainly been no reason for him to cry up to this point but, I mean, come on! There was no way he was shedding tears right now.

Okay, this is probably confusing to just jump right into so let me introduce the series of events that led up to this loving embrace between demon and spirit.

This morning, I woke up to a not so pleasant morning in which I lost my cereal to the bottomless pit of a Tokebi and was mocked to no end by a demon because of a loud mouth Gumiho. The Haechi and the Dokkaebi didn’t help the situation in the least. But, you know all of this already.

So then, what happened after that? After that, I was forced to get dressed, the Gumiho himself picking the outfit I currently had on. Something he just did of his own volition as I was downstairs preparing my cereal that, as you know, I never got to finish eating.

And then, I was nagged at to go here. Here to the Namsan Tower. Here, high above the ground where the railings were covered in locks. Locks that, traditionally, were written on by lovers as a promise to one another to stay together before being locked onto the railing itself. Though, some people go out of the norm and only buy one for themselves or maybe even do one with their best friend. Anyway, you basically get the gist of it.

And here, here was where we found him. The dark gray haired, tall Xiezhi. What’s  a Xiezhi? The Chinese adaptation of a Haechi. Yet, different in nature. A Xiezhi, in its true form, apparently looks like some sheep animal with a horn like a unicorn sheep. The description was quite blurry considering Himchan was the one giving it.

He couldn’t focus on one single aspect of how a Xiezhi looks and I got lost multiple times. So many times that I just stopped listening and just nodded my head, figuring I’d find out myself what a Xiezhi was in a shorter amount of time than how long it would take to decipher his lacking explanation.

The Xiezhi, in its human form, was the one Mr. Demon, Bang Yongguk, was currently hugging as though his afterlife depended on it. Not even a single word got out before the two ran to each other like a pair of lovers reuniting on a beach and embraced.

I didn’t exactly want to ruin the moment the two seemed to be having so I ended up awkwardly standing there with the other four spirits on either side of me. While I actually had consideration for whatever relationship the two shared, the Gumiho did not. Perhaps I should be happy that he’s like that though. At the very least, he’s the one who always gets things up and moving again.

“Okay,” Himchan stepped towards them, his arms outstretched and his hands clasped together as he pushed in between them, effectively separating them, “break it up break it up. The happy reunion is over. It hasn’t even been a year since you two last saw each other.”

“A father misses his son by default.” Yongguk replied as he hooked his arm around the taller Xiezhi, tugging the spirit down to his level in the process.

The Xiezhi looked young. Very young. His face did anyway. His long legs and his well, height in general, made him look older but that face of his was deceiving. His jaw had a unique shape to it too, rounder than the others’ yet, there was a charm in it as it matched his long neck well.

My guess, fifteen. Sixteen maybe? Age I mean, age. Though considering Mr. Demon is over two thousand years old, I can’t exactly pass judgment on the “real” age of this Xiezhi.

Wait, wait, wait, back up for a second. I just skimmed over what he said because I was too busy taking in the appearance of the Xiezhi but now that I’m thinking clearly, what was that he said? Father? His son?

It’s a good thing the intuitive Dokkaebi named Yoo Youngjae could seemingly read my thoughts and answer my question, “They’re like father and son.”

I see.

Then, this Xiezhi must have been close to Bang Yongguk. Very close. Only now do I hope that saying is wrong. That saying of, “Like father like son.”

“Demons and spirits,” Daehyun added, his hands in his pockets, “we won’t have children.” I wasn’t able to dwell long on those words as Mr. Demon’s next words interrupted my thoughts.

“Zelo,” Yongguk wrung his arm tighter around the Xiezhi’s neck, speaking what I figured to be his name. Though, judging from how odd it was, perhaps a nickname? Either way, I’m only glad Mr. Demon has stopped his loving reunion with his “son” long enough to actually introduce me, “This is Park Sora. She’s the old man’s granddaughter.”

The Xiezhi’s eyes shifted from his “father” to me. There were dark, his eyes. His eyes that focused on me as his head shifted, his fringe brushing lightly against his forehead as he turned. They were like a dark shade of blue. As blue as the bottom of the ocean floor. Or maybe, that’s just the morning sunlight playing tricks on me.

“She doesn’t like you?”

Those were Zelo's first words. The first words that came out of his mouth, his voice sounding as young as his face looked. And they weren’t directed towards me. They were directed towards Mr. Demon, who solemnly nodded, his lips forming a tight line on his face.

“Sadly.”

Sadly? What the hell is sad about it? Yongguk must be joking. That gloom and doom expression on his face has to be a lie. Right? Though, he’s never looked like that before. So, is it true? Is he really sad that I don’t like him?

The Xiezhi nodded his head, his eyes not leaving me and I couldn’t read what he was thinking. I couldn’t decipher that look he gave me. I could decipher, however, the look of the demon at his side. The look on Bang Yongguk’s face as he glanced at me and the corners of his lips hitched up. Hitched up into that arrogant smile.

Only for a second. It was only there for a second.

But, it mocked me.

It mocked me for ever believing in his sorry acting skills.

Damn him.

Damn him back to hell where he came from.

The Xiezhi, Choi Junhong, his nickname being Zelo, was now sitting with me on the floor of my room. He was actually new to the spirit business as well, having been only one year into his afterlife though he was nearing his second year now. I was off by a few years then, but really, you couldn’t have expected me to guess correctly. Considering the answer was “one,” there’s no way that guessing his age was possible.

So, here I was, sitting in front of a one year old, soon to be two, Xiezhi. And we were talking. Talking, just as I had spoken with most all of the other spirits, alone. I find it’s easier that way so that I can avoid Gumiho interruptions, demon inappropriateness, and the Mary Poppins stomach of a Tokebi. This was the reason I kicked them all out before locking my bedroom door behind them.

No.

Seriously.

I literally kicked Himchan to get him out of the room. I had to practically roll him out as he remained a limp noodle on the carpeted floor, refusing to move by his own volition.

Getting back to the Xiezhi however, we were now both looking down at his contract. A post card with the picture of the Namsan tower on it. What was the significance of it? Why this? Why a post card? Why a post it note? Why old calligraphy paper? Why a folded piece of notebook paper? Why a ripped page from Shakespeare?

Well, I don’t know why.

It’s not my business to know why.

It’s my business to sign it and move on. To sign all of them and bring them to my grandfather. To end this.

“Who are you doing this for?” He spoke up, drawing my attention away from the post card as I looked into those deep eyes of his. And I was right before, there were indeed a shade of blue, “Who are you gathering us for?”

“For my grandfather.” I answered simply, not pausing in the least.

The weird thing is, he didn’t say a word in response. He just stared at me. He stared at me, his eyes unblinking. It was unnerving. Like he was staring right through me with those deep, ocean blue eyes of his. I felt like I was drowning in them. Drowning in his stare until he decided to speak again.

“What are you gathering us for?” His eyes didn’t leave mine as though he were a robot, analyzing his target.

“I don’t know.” I answered again, not a hitch in my voice, not a single stutter to be found.

There was that pause again, that pause as he looked on at me. This time, thankfully, it didn’t last as long.

“What’s going to happen once you gather us all?”

“It’ll be over.”

Once more, for the third time, there was silence. Silence exchanged between the two of us. It was deafening, as though I was looking at a screen capture, a still picture, of the Xiezhi in front of me. Can a spirit stare into your soul? Can he see past it all, at the very core of what you are? I felt like he, like this Xiezhi named Choi Junhong, nicknamed Zelo, could.

“I don’t like it.” He concluded as leaned forward, pulling from his back pocket a blue pen. A blue-ink pen with a design of blue and yellow stars on it. He brandished it in front of me, pulling the cap off and placing it at the end of the pen. His eyes remained on it as he spoke his next words, “I don’t like it when people lie to me.”

I was right.

He did know.

He knew all of it. Everything I so calculatedly hid. How did he know? Because, something I would only find out that next morning, a Xiezhi, much like a Haechi, punishes evildoers, those who do wrong. But, they also have another ability.

The ability to tell when someone is lying.

“But,” he looked up, locking those eyes of his with mine again, those eyes that matched his dark gray colored hair that seemed more blue the longer I stared into those eyes, “sometimes, people have to lie.”

He handed the pen in his hand to me, giving me permission. Permission to sign his contract. Permission as a slight smile adorned his lips and proved once more that his face did not match his body. And, who could blame me for smiling back then, for matching his smile?

I took his pen into my hands, feeling as though the item was something precious, something I needed to be careful when using. Completely careful as I penned my name there on the back.

Careful.

A word that didn’t match the person who’s voice boomed from downstairs just then, just as I finished. A voice belonging to Kim Himchan, the Gumiho.

“Sora! Baby, could you come down here please?”

The fox can just come upstairs himself and knock on the door for pete’s sake. No need to disturb the neighbors. I let out a sigh as I handed the pen back to Zelo whose fingers wrapped around the end when my door slammed open.

And behind it was the reason the Gumiho hadn’t come up the stairs. Because, he was trying to keep the person now standing in my doorway down there. And well, he ultimately failed on that one. Himchan, the relentless Gumiho, had met his match in the form of the male who narrowed his eyes at me as he stood at my doorway. The male held a skateboard in one hand and his backpack in the other, one finger from the one holding his backpack being used to point behind himself at the Gumiho who stood there with quite the conflicted expression. 

“Who is this guy and why is he calling you “baby”?”

It was Oh Sehun.

My neglected best friend.