I would. I would be the one to trip and fall down an entire flight of stairs. Sure, I had to get the resident doctor's attention, but this was the last way I imagined doing it. And it's certainly much more painful than I had ever imagined falling down stairs would be. It wasn't even the way down that hurt.

It was the landing that I failed to stick that left bruises on my elbows and forearms. I'd rather fall down an escalator than ever have to end my fall down a set of unmoving, stationary stairs.

Unmoving, stationary stairs's danger level has definitely risen to level three on the danger scale. Not that I keep a danger scale in my spare time. Just, you know, if I had one, stairs would rank a three. Out of what? Due to what?

Okay, I'm not going to start an actual list anytime soon so don't expect me to specify whether a three is bad or good. Just know it's there. Stairs have now become one of my five mortal enemies -- the first being cracks in the street, the second being sharp edges of unexpected corners that have a bloodthirsty hunger for my little toe, and the other two being the Gumiho and Mr. Demon.

Admittedly, the last two are ones in which I have developed a love hate relationship. So, I guess you would call us frenemies? Enemies yet friends. Now that I think about it though, can I call them my friends? Do they consider me their friend or just Park Sora? Not that I'd be hurt if it was the latter I just, well, it'd be informative to know.

That's all.

But, anyway, looking past all of that, let's focus on the important stuff.

I fell down the stairs. Discussed and done with. I am now in a bed, one of many, in the hospital, a concussion always a threat in my kind of situation. And, Miss Victoria Song had come to visit me, since I had been yelping her name as I felt gravity so unfairly give me the big middle finger at quite possibly the worst time. What happened afterwards, however, is left to be seen.

"How are you feeling?" The very same resident doctor I had gotten the attention of so skillfully – with the talent and poise of a cat and a ninja – asked. A ninja cat. Cute. Okay, I'm getting off topic again.

"Considering the fact that she looks like a Dalmatian with that new shiner she has on her right eye, I'd say she looks better than usual." A deep, rasping, and obviously familiar voice rang from my left. And, considering the very important fact that just seconds ago, he wasn't there, I believe I'm justified in the clenching of my features and the flinching of my frame that occurred.

I turned to him, alarmed, giving him a glare that could have killed – at least I'd like to think it could. But, of course, I would never know, considering the fact that ten times out of ten, Mr. Demon failed to take me seriously. I shot a nervous glance at Miss Victoria Song, my eyes going from her own which remained on me, unfazed, to him at least three times before he finally decided to put an end to my confusion.

“Don’t worry,” he dismissed easily, making me wonder why he didn't just say what he did next earlier, “she can’t see me. Maintaining a visible form is harder than remaining invisible, after all.”

Then again, considering the fact that he takes pleasure in being the cause of my pain and my dumbstruck looks, I'd like to withdraw my previous question.

“Us.” A notably higher pitched voice from my right corrected, a newly dyed pink head of hair falling over the forehead of a smiling face in fluffy waves, "He means us."

“Us, I mean." He corrected, perhaps forgetting about his son for the single moment in which he was enjoying his ongoing torment on my soul, "Zelo wanted to come see the damage, too.”

Right, because the two were a pair that couldn’t be separated. Like sugar and spice without the everything nice – though I suppose one could argue Zelo was the latter. Or, perhaps Jongup. On a sidenote, a sidenote that I suppose backs up my claim, Jongup, Youngjae, Daehyun, and Himchan hadn’t decided to join me at my bedside, the smell of coffee too enticing for them to stick around. Not that I’m complaining. Really, it doesn’t bother me. Really, stop looking at me like that.

Now, let’s get back on track, shall we?

I faked a laugh at Yongguk, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Now that I think about it too, he was the one who suggested self-injury for fast and easy admittance into the public service building I was now in – as that would grant me immediate access to Miss Victoria Song. Not that I listened to him. It simply turned out like this. Not that he pushed me himself, though I’m sure the thought crossed his mind once or twice.

Though, I suppose it’s better to think he hadn’t even begun to entertain the idea. Considering the fact that he’s saved me from incoming traffic recently, I’d say he’s not looking to end me so soon. At least, not physically. Mentally, he was really doing a number on me with all these jump scares. I’m not even in a horror movie, for Pete’s sake. Not that I know a guy named Pete. In retrospect, I suppose it’s not all too right to bring him up here. Sorry, Pete.

I sighed, mumbling in a voice that was really not at all quiet or inconspicuous, “It’s kind of an unannounced,” and unneeded,” visit, don’t you think?”

Miss Victoria Song tilted her head in confusion, pointing to herself with a thin, well manicured finger, “I’m sorry, was it not my name you said?” Great, now I’m going to be known as the psycho who talks to herself. That’s just flipping fantastic. As if I wasn’t crazy enough already. Though, I guess it can only go up from here.

Though, I have been thinking that for awhile now.

“No, that’s not it. I—” I began, attempting to explain myself like a bumbling fool. What was I supposed to say? I was talking to a demon and a spirit that she couldn’t see? Yeah, I could have said that. But, you have to admit I’d be an even bigger fool than I appeared to be right now if I did. “I did call for you.”

She nodded to herself, visibly confused as she then proceeded to question me once more, “Then?”

“Nichkhun.”

A name I heard from my left. A name supplied to me by Bang Yongguk that I repeated without hesitation, the amount of trust I had in him at that point, in which I had no idea what to do or say, much too large.

“Nichkhun.” I said. Or rather, blurted like I was calling out an answer on a regularly scheduled Sunday variety show. I had no idea what this name meant. I had no idea who this person was. Or, if it was a person at all. It could have been the name of an exotic fruit that only grew in the Caribbean. It could have been a city in some English speaking country. It could have been just another attempt on Mr. Demon’s part to make fun of me.

Luckily, this time, it wasn’t.

“My fiancé?” She blinked slowly, still not all to sure about me and whatever identity I was in the process of forming. A process that was surely making me even more illogical than usual, as I turned to the one person I couldn’t count of for answers for an actual answer. The thing is, he gave it.

“It’s not hard to get info around here. The rumor mill is buzzing, the lovely nurse flies have lips as loose as horses.” He paused, pondering something before letting it loose upon the world, "Which means they're correctly classified as horse flies. Get it?" I got it. Trust me, I got it.

You know those times when something is so unfunny it’s funny? Well, this wasn’t one of those times. See what I did there? I tricked you. Get it? See, it’s not all too funny, now is it?

“No need to thank me.”

“I wasn’t going to.” I responded to him out loud once more, the fall seemingly causing me to loose both logic and common sense.

“I beg your pardon?” She asked, stepping forward in her white, long jacket – standard “doctor” wear – in order to hear my mumblings better.

“I wasn’t going to mention him but I heard some nurses talking about it.” I must say, I did a good job pulling that one out of my . I smiled through a set of pearly whites – as I do maintain the health of my teeth – and clapped with both hands, despite the sound I caused causing my swollen right eye to clench in reflex. Which, honestly, must have been quite the sight to behold considering the laughter I heard from either side of me. “Congratulations. When are you getting married?”

She didn’t answer right away. She didn’t look as inquisitive as before. In fact, she was making that face. That face Sehun makes when I say we should take a picture together. That face that tells me she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“We haven’t decided yet.”

“Lie.” Zelo called out, as though counting the ballots at an election – detached and emotionless through and through.

I threw him a sideways glance, as best I could anyway, before pestering the poor woman ever more, “Why?”

“We’ve both been busy with work, so—” She started, though I didn’t hear what she ended with, considering the fact that Zelo chimed in again, his “lie detector” radar going crazy.

“Lie.” He called out again, for the second time.

“Oh, you must be excited.” I politely replied, as though I was her subordinate at this big, white hospital she worked in – although I honestly didn’t know how else to respond considering the fact that I didn’t hear half of what she said.

“Yes, everything is going well.” She rubbed the expanse of her left forearm with the thin fingers of her right hand. It was a gesture that didn’t match her next words. “I’m excited.”

“Lie.” Zelo spoke for the third and final time, diverting his eyes from the situation; three truly being the “charm,” as it were. Making me unable to see the expression he was currently making, as though I would have been able to figure out what he was thinking if I did. But, hey, you can’t blame a girl for trying to sneak a peek at him as I directed my words towards Miss Victoria Song once more.

“Well, anyway, I wish the two of you well.” I gathered my hands in my lap, deciding not to clap this time, for my own sake. Which, effectively, cleared up my mind, let me relax, long enough to actually think for myself, “I, actually, came here to see you upon my friend’s recommendation. I’ve had an interest in the medical field for awhile now since I’ve been at university.”

A lie of my own.

But, it brought her curious nature back, her Sehun expression nowhere to be found as she voiced, “Who?”

Okay, so maybe I hadn’t thought that far?

Maybe I did need some help.

Though, as much as I wish I didn’t have look to Bang Yongguk for it, I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t help but breath out in a huff as I turned to him, pretending I was trying to remember the person who, at this point in time, didn’t exist.

And, unfortunately, he wasn’t looking to help me so easily. Not after I dismissed him earlier. I really have to remind myself to think before I mock him. Then again, even if I did, I’d still do it. I’d fall into the pattern like the last puzzle piece. Easily. Quickly. Effortlessly.

But, let’s stop being foreboding, shall we? Just for this one second, in which I wish I couldn’t have been happier that I couldn’t clearly see the look he was giving me now as he crossed his arms against his chest, his deep, guttural voice dragging each of his syllables out so long it almost drove me to the apex of insanity.

“Oh, so now you want my help?”

I managed the best glare I could, considering the circumstances. Because, no matter how much of it I’d hear later, I needed a name. And, I needed it now. I would have even considered going soft on him to get one out of him. I would have, had he not cracked so easily.

And, I would have exploited his random show of weakness. I would have, had I not had a pair of waiting eyes drilling holes into my forehead. I would have, had I not realized instantly the familiarity I had with the name he said then.

Honestly, I don’t care how he knew. I don’t care if he looked at hospital records illegally. I don’t care if he heard it from the horse flies that buzzed back and forth. I really, really didn’t care. So, it’s safe to say I didn’t ask. I never asked.

“Minseok.” I repeated like a tape recorder, “Kim Minseok.”

Small world, isn’t it?

And, Bang Yongguk spoke just then, like the tape recorder to my mind, “Small world, isn’t it?”

Really now?

Stop that.

Stop repeating my words like a pantomime.

Making them sound cooler when you say them.

It’s not fair.

And it makes my mind all ed up.

“I see.” She hummed to herself, the smile on her face easy to understand. She was dwelling on fond memories, ones that were so detached from her current reality that they felt like a dream. A wonderful, easy dream. “Yes, he’s come here a few times with injuries from soccer.” She laughed to herself, hearty, as though she couldn’t have been healthier, or happier, “That boy seems almost accident prone. I suppose that’s why you’re friends?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I mumbled the latter of my sentence beneath my breath, showing her my award-winning smile – which, may I add, Mr. Demon and Zelo both gave me two thumbs up for afterwards.

And well, she was smiling too. And, now she knew my name. So, that’s a start, isn’t it? Even if it took me over two weeks to finally gather up the courage to fall down a flight of stairs, it was a start, wasn’t it?

“Yes. I’ll see you at home soon.” I spoke into the transceiver of my handphone, keeping my voice down as I replied to her with an even, calm pitch, “Yes. Yes, grandmother. I’m fine. I already told you, it’s alright. I just fell down is all. You don’t have to come here. Yes. Yes.”

Her voice through the speaker sounded worried, aged, and ragged. And, it hurt. It hurt to hear her sound like that. It hurt to know that her usual, teenage girl tone had aged ten times over because of me. All because I fell down a flight of stairs.

I can’t even imagine if something worse had happened. I can’t even begin to comprehend how guilty I’d feel should I end up spending even one minute longer in this hospital than necessary.

“I love you, too.”

The phrase I said to her as she finished her sentence which just scolded me. Which just reprimanded me for being in the hospital when I got hurt when I had no reason to be there in the first place. Which, technically, sounded nothing like the phrase which would proceed my own. And yet, to my ears, it sounded exactly like it.

It sounded exactly like her heartfelt, upbeat voice saying, “I love you, Sora.”

Or am I just imagining things? Am I simply hearing what I want to hear? No, I don’t think so. Because, she didn’t respond to my words. Instead, I heard her sigh. A deep, long sigh whose origins I knew not. And why would I? Then, why would I suspect a thing other than it being a deep exhale to release the anxiety she felt due to me getting hurt? Why would I?

Maybe I was too dense.

Maybe, like Zelo hadn’t missed a chance to tell me, I am a liar to the core.

The easy way out is always the most enticing.

I hung up the phone after that, just wanting to lie back down in the hospital bed. Just wanting to close my eyes, one of which felt like it was permanently squinted shut – as Mr. Demon said earlier, my fall had given me one heck of a black eye. I would have done just that, the sweet, soft linen calling out to me to take a nap until I was finally discharged; a process which would take only about thirty minutes or so more.

I would have, had a certain gullible trickster not been sitting at the head of my bed already, causing me to jump from shock when I attempted to lean back in bed. I swear I almost had a heart attack. Then again, it’s certainly not the worst time to have one, considering where I am right now.

The Tokebi, Jung Daehyun, wasn’t startled in the least, which made me think he had done it on purpose. Just to scare me. Just to get back at me for the extra helping of rice I didn’t give him for breakfast this morning. Ms. Kim wouldn’t have enough for all of them at dinner if I did, after all. So, what else could I do? But, if it was a part of his plan, he wasn’t showing it. His face was deadpan, his hands lazing around in his pants’ pockets as he swung his feet back and forth over the edge of the bed.

And so, here it comes.

Because he wouldn’t seek me out if he didn’t have something he wanted.

In the end, was I wrong? Had I misjudged his intentions? It depends on how you look at it.

“Your shift in demeanor never fails to surprise me.” He started with an insult, not that that surprised me all too much. “One minute, you’re throwing fists, the next you’re apologizing for it.”

“Yeah, well,” I shrugged, swinging my feet off the bed so that they dangled from the edge beside his own, the action he was conducting, swaying his legs back and forth and back and forth, too fun looking for me not to imitate, “I show my affection in different ways.”

He scoffed, making me feel like punching him right then and there. In fact, I would have, had I not known whether or not he was visible right now; a question that I hoped I wouldn’t have to wonder often from then on. For all I knew, to anyone else, I could have been talking to nothing but an empty space occupied by air right now. “Yeah, I can tell that much.”

I eyed him, his impassive frown, his eyes which weren’t looking at me, and his chestnut colored fringe which was flipped upwards, styled by some kind of super gel that I needed to get the name of from him later; for my own experimental purposes. I’ve always wanted to know what I would look like with a mohawk. His perfectly quaffed hair aside, I didn’t exactly know how to take his statement spoken with both scorn and overlying admiration.

“I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or complimenting me.”

He shrugged, something else I would have to talk to him about later. Not because I don’t like shrugging. I do it myself on more than one occasion. I did it just seconds ago, if you were paying attention. But, when I do it, it’s to emphasize the fact that, “No, I don’t have any idea what you – the person who is talking to me – are talking about.” When he does it, however, it’s different. It’s the kind of different I can’t figure out. It’s the kind of different that that gives me that same feeling of guilt I had felt just earlier.

Guilt because I can’t figure out the reason behind the gesture.

Guilt because it feels wrong when he does it, and I can’t do anything to make it feel right. Because I don’t know him. I don’t know the Tokebi named Jung Daehyun. I know his habits and his personality but his memories? His experiences? I knew nothing. And, in the past, I was okay with knowing nothing.

Now, however, it irked me.

It prickled at the surface of my skin, silently pushing me to do something about it. Not right now though. Because right now, I was still complacent and laid back about everything. I was still lying through a pair of tightly clenched teeth.

“Both.” He answered.

I nodded to myself, deciding to joke with him even though I knew it wasn’t the best time. Even though I had no idea why I did, “That’s what you say now but when Ms. Kim isn’t there to cook you dinner, you’ll be pleading the fifth.”

“You want to know something?” He suddenly asked, his feet stalling their languid movement. It made me turn my eyes to our legs in front of us, dangling together. It made me focus on his words, spoken after enduring so much scorn on my part, so much more than I would have than if I had been looking into his eyes that I felt staring at me. Finally looking at me.

“That day you tricked me into following you, that day you slipped the leash around my neck, that was the first day in over ten years that I ate something.” He shrugged for the second time, and I could feel the guilt threatening to choke me, “Maybe more, I was never good at keeping count of things.”

And yet, he was still acting as though everything was right as rain. As though nothing in the world, spirit or not, bothered him. At any other point in time, I would have called him a Debby Downer and moved on. But, when he was being so nonchalant, so impassive, about everything he was saying, I found myself unable to make any kind of witty comment or smart comeback.

He continued on, and I could feel his eyes bore into me all the while, hastened footsteps of those I didn’t pay attention to seeming to echo his words, “Because no one leaves offerings for trickster spirits anymore. Because Haechis and Gumihos are at the forefront of the spectrum, all the attention always and forever on them.”

He shrugged for the third and final time, seemingly giving up on fighting the facts of his words. Honestly, yes, he was rambling. But, I had no intent to stop him. I made no effort to shut him up. Because when was the last time he actually spoke at length with me?

These are the most words I’ll most likely ever hear him say all at once. This is most likely the most serious I’ll ever get to see him acting. So, who cares if he was babbling on and on? Who cares if I didn’t fully understand him? The fact of the matter was: he was trying to make me understand.

He was trying to make me understand something I wouldn’t until later.

But, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?

“For a Tokebi whose had consistent meals for almost two months now, I’d count myself lucky.” He nodded to himself, lips pursing as though to mentally give himself a pat on the back for his accomplishments, “So, yeah, I’ll say whatever I need to to get that extra serving. I’ll do anything I need to in order to feel alive for even a single moment. To feel significant for even a single second.”

His heavy stare left me, allowing my shoulders room to relax. And yet, I remained tense, latching onto every word he said like it was the last cookie I’d get for dessert. That’s how desperate I was. That’s how desperate this tone of his was making me.

“Humans are like spirits like that. We both have a strong will to live, even if our definitions of what it means to live are different.” His feet began to move back and forth once more, and I had a feeling our one-sided conversation, with him maintaining the upper hand throughout, was coming to an end. “We have another commonality too.”

And, I think, I have another feeling – and maybe it’s just a hunch – but this entire time, it’s not been me he’s speaking to. No, for some reason, it’s as though he’s trying to validate something to himself. As though he’s seeking some kind of affirmation from me. Or, maybe I’m just imagining it. Maybe I’m just hearing things amidst the murmurs around us that began to build up to a I hadn’t seen coming.

“We both die.” His eyes looked somewhere off into the distance, gazing on at something I couldn’t see. “Sooner or later, even spirits like us reach a point in which we pass over the peak. Acknowledging that is easy.” His eyelashes fluttered slowly, a sigh produced from between his lips, as though he too wanted to escape the words he spoke then. As though he too knew how unavoidable it all was, “Dealing with the aftermath, the inevitability of it all, is always the hard part.”

And there it was, the crescendo: the unwanted, unavoidable, to this unfortunate series of events surrounding Miss Victoria Song. There it was, the breaking point, despite us having just met. There was the solution in the form of a problem, the rushed footsteps of nurses and doctors, the whispers that had gotten so loud one could akin them to the ringing of bells, as a stretcher went by.

A man who must have been no older than twenty-five laid upon it, blood where there shouldn’t have been, injuries where there shouldn’t have been. Because he was so young. Because he was like the nameless woman, I saw her as various nurses and doctors ran quickly on either side of his mangled body. I overheard the word, “Motorcycle accident.” And, she must have heard it too. Her, who I saw. Her, who froze, eyes wide, at the sight that passed by her like a torrent, her legs trembling too much to move her even an inch.

And Daehyun’s voice echoed in the back of my head, monotone and resolute, as he stated yet another fact of the many he had come to know during his long lifetime, “Accepting it is always the hard part.”

And before I could go to Miss Victoria Song, her who I had seen, standing there, frozen as she was, I spared him one last fleeting glance, even though I should have spared more than just that, “You’re being rather open today.”

I was wrong, you know? I thought the third was the last. I thought the third time was the charm. But, I saw it again. I saw his shoulders move upwards at that pointed angle before sagging downwards in defeat. As though he had lost against some unknown enemy whose basic origins I hadn’t known were hitting so close to home right then. Right in that moment, in which he came to me first. In which he opened up to me first, without rhyme or reason.

“Don’t expect it to happen again.”

He seemed so wise then, right at that very moment. Like he knew so much. Like he was anything but gullible. Like his curiosity had only served to make him so.

So chic. So cool. So mature.

It’s almost funny.

Thinking about it now, it’s borderline hilarious.