When Heechul returned to heaven, he stomped toward God’s desk. God himself was laid back in his chair with his shoeless feet propped up on the desk. His socks were lime green, which clashed horribly with the white suit and today’s burnt orange tie.

Heechul rolled his eyes as he threw himself down in the chair that he made appear.

“Hello again,” God greeted lightly, but he didn’t raise his eyes from whatever he was doing. Heechul shifted in seat to get a new angle of vision, and saw that the man seemed to be playing on a games console.

Sighing, Heechul wondered just when all this ridiculousness would end.

“Problem?”

“I though God was meant to be omniscient.”

The man laughed, only momentarily casting his gaze over to Heechul before returning to his game. “Only when I feel like it. So, you’re back early – is there a problem?”

Heechul frowned and settled back in the chair restlessly. He replayed his most recent memories: each tear that rolled down Siwon’s cheeks to every one of Zhou Mi’s whispers until it had all been too much to bear, and he had returned to Heaven. God would probably read his thoughts, as he had done in the past, if he could be bothered.

“Siwon can’t see me. He can’t hear me. It’s like I’m not even there.”                     

After a long silence, God patiently asked, “Heechul-sshi, where do you think you are?”

It was said in such a way that Heechul immediately got the implication. He sighed. “I—I honestly don’t know,” and how stupid did that sound? Pride be damned, he was too wrapped up in unpleasant emotions to care about his personal image now. So what if he was relenting his previously adamant statements that he was simply unconscious and his imagination was running wild and high. He could recant everything he was thinking now at a later date.

“I want to believe I’m just dreaming but I feel so much… pain, frustration, loneliness. I’ve never had that in a dream before, and science says it’s just not possible!”

Slowly, God closed up his gameboy and put it on the desk. He lowered his legs down, and in seconds became so much like an executive that had it been any other moment, Heechul would’ve found it amusing. Instead, the humour of it only registered vaguely, as he was still caught up in a storm of his own thoughts.

“But I just can’t believe that I’m dead…”

“You’re going to have to believe, Heechul-sshi. Siwon-sshi will be unable to see you until you truly believe that you’re now an angel. And only when you truly believe.”

Heechul growled loudly and pushed himself out of the chair so forcefully it slid back a few feet. He paced agitatedly, fists clenched and shaking, needing to grasp something and break it, but there was nothing.

“It just takes a little faith, Heechul-sshi!”

“Faith?” Heechul  barked a laugh and spun to face the man who remained the very definition of calm. “Unlike Siwon, I’ve never had any faith, so I can’t just muster it up over night—!”

“—I know you can’t—”

“How can I even find something when I don’t know what it is?”

“Faith is the easiest thing in the universe, Heechul-sshi—”

“It is for you, ing Wonderboy,” Heechul hissed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

God sighed laboriously and tapped his fingers against the desk. In the gentle rhythm that sounded out, Heechul found himself growing calmer, which panicked him. No doubt that was the man’s intention… it made Heechul feel as if he was being tamed. He hated it, but could not deny it was working – to some extent; a lap cat always harbours the potential of a tiger.

“It can be lost, as you have seen, but it can just as easily be found again.”

Heechul walked back over to his chair and collapsed back into it. “But what is it?”

“Not something that can be explained easily?” God laughed sheepishly. “It’s intangible, just a feeling of complete trust—”

A sharp cackle of a laugh tore from Heechul’s mouth again. “This is ing stupid. How can  I suddenly start trusting God?”

“Faith doesn’t concern me. Not directly. You have to believe in yourself, Heechul-sshi. That is where faith begins and ends.”

Heechul shook his head low on his shoulders. He just could not process this at all, which was a first for his shrewd mind. It just worked to unsettle him a whole lot more. It was almost as if the security net he had woven underneath himself – his excuses for this entire situation – had either torn or had been cut away and now he was falling and falling into a new, scarier oblivion.

“It just… doesn’t make any sense.”

“Faith doesn’t make sense, Heechul-sshi. There is nothing to support my existence in the Living World, and yet people still believe in me so fiercely. They trust in their own conviction. They have faith that what they believe is true. It’s not realistic, which is what I know you need to have in order to be comfortable. It’s not logical, but it’s a lot like love in that respect, don’t you think?”

Heechul gradually raised his gaze from the snow-white floor, to once again meet with God’s dark eyes. They still smiled at him, annoying to him and his scowl. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never felt love either.”

--

After all the years of begging, Heechul finally followed Siwon through the doors of the church that was nearest to the Super Junior dorm. The irony of it happening was that Siwon was the one who was trying to dig his heel in every step, but the grip that Zhou Mi had on his hand was strong, and the Chinese singer forged forwards; ignoring every protest that came from the man behind him.

The church’s façade was simple, and yet it still managed to be ostentatious. Though it was obviously designed to not be intimidating, like the churches of Europe were, Heechul still sensed something as he crossed the threshold.

It was a new experience for him. After a little anteroom, the church opened up into a grand chamber with rows upon rows of mahogany-stained benches – pews, he supposed he should call them. A wide aisle ran up the middle, leading to a large table covered in a white and gold cloth; on top of that a collection of religious items that he did not know or recognise, apart from the obligatory golden statue of the crucifixion. The stained-glass windows that made the wall behind that table illustrated dark stories. Heechul did not know the narratives, but even he could pick out the themes of death and suffering, and all in the name of Faith.

All around their little group of two plus one, people were smiling and chatting animatedly in groups. Strange. How could they all be so happy when surrounded by so many morose things? Maybe that too, was a part of Faith. If only he could speak to someone who did not know him (as hard as that would be to find in Seoul), and ask them about their own Faith, and how it felt for them, he could begin to grasp the concept.

He was so busy studying his surroundings that he did not notice that Siwon had been pulled up the aisle towards the first row of pews and then pushed down to sit. Zhou Mi smiled a little victory before settling down next to Siwon. Heechul hurried up to them, and sat next to Siwon on the opposite side.

“This is pointless, Zhou Mi. It’s a waste of your time, and mine. I—”

“Look, Shi Yuan, Teukkie-hyung wanted you out of Heennim’s room, and you need to get out of the dorm—”

Siwon exhaled exasperatedly and held his head in his hands. “There are hundreds of places we could go, Mimi,”

“But only one where you need to be.”

Again, Siwon sighed. His hands moved to curl around the back of his neck and he glowered towards the table in front of him. Heechul stared at it too, intently, as if he expected his Faith to appear like an epiphany.

“Coming here was a mistake,” Siwon muttered agitatedly and his movement s became jolty, nervous. Heechul glanced around and saw a middle-aged man approaching them with a friendly smile. It quickly became evident that Siwon did not want to talk to this man, but Zhou Mi kept an escape impossible with a hand on the older singer’s shoulder.

“Siwon-sshi,”

Siwon inhaled sharply and snapped his head up to face the newcomer. He didn’t smile, and nearly spat out the word “Father.”

The man seemed to not notice, or he let it slide in that infamous Christian habit of blindly forgiving others of their actions, and continued. “I heard about your friend, and I offer you my sincerest condolences, for both you and your group. We prayed for him, and for God to give you the strength to carry on.”

Heechul could see the scoff that was biting at Siwon’s stony expression and as much as he wanted it to come out there was also a part of him that wanted Siwon to keep suppressing it. Not wishing to make a scene, or insult this man was obviously a sign that Siwon still cared for the Church somewhere, no matter how deep, in his heart. And that assured to make Heechul’s job a little easier, if he ever got the chance to start this mission properly.

“…and who is—?” the man turned to Zhou Mi, who opened his mouth to introduce himself when Siwon cut in, as polite as he could sound without being acerbic.

“Thank you, Father. But if you don’t mind, we’d rather like to be left alone?”

The man nodded, his eyes only narrowing slightly as he took in the singer, and Heechul wondered if he actually managed to get the point that Siwon was not the man he used to be. Or perhaps it was just the stranger’s way of showing concern. Heechul did not know him, so it was not his place to judge… intentionally.

“You shall be in my prayers. Take care, Siwon-sshi,”

“You know, Shi Yuan,” Zhou Mi murmured, fiddling awkwardly with the sunglasses perched atop his flame-red hair as he watched the man stalk over to another set of people. “Why don’t you talk to him about how you feel about Heenim-hyung? He might be able to help you—”

“Oh, Mimi, you really don’t know God’s view on homouality, do you?” Siwon laughed in a hushed whisper. It was disdainful, but none of that bitterness was aimed at the Chinese singer. “It’s not a favourable one.”

“…is that why you never told Heenim-hyung how you felt?”

Silently, Siwon nodded. Heechul could clearly see the lump in his throat that he was trying to swallow, and once again those dark chocolate eyes glared straight at the cross in front of him.  “I should’ve said something… maybe then he would’ve—”

Zhou Mi sighed and picked at the fabric of his jeans where it creased across his slim thigh as he was sat down. “No, he wouldn’t have told you.”

“Did you know—?”

“That Heenim was gay?” he whispered the word and Heechul threw his head back onto his shoulders. As uncomfortable as it was to have this – most private of all this private – things discussed, he knew he could trust that it would go no further. It was not something Zhou Mi would ever bring up in conversation.

“…how?”

The Chinese singer chuckled quietly. “How should I say? …People like us have a way of identifying each other?”

Siwon frowned for a moment before his eyes widened in realisation. Heechul rolled his eyes. “Y—you’re, too?”

“What? It’s not like I ever made an effort to hide it…”

In the silence that followed, Heechul stood up and paced towards the table and glanced over its ornaments. He could not hear his friend’s conversation anymore, over the din of the other visitors: people who actually came here for good reasons. Heechul supposed he counted as one of them too. He was here for self-realisation, he guessed, in a way. However one went about it. Prayer was out of the question. If he wanted to talk to God, he would return to Heaven and speak to the strange character face to face.

He just needed something to convince him, that was all. Convince him that he was dead and that he had been given another life, and a mission as an angel. Even he laughed at that thought.

This place, this church, was technically a place of refuge for something like him now. Were they not ‘houses of God’? And strangely, when he thought of it that way, he hadn’t shivered as he entered the building as the very thought of doing so had once done. He did not feel unwelcome, but then again, no one else could even see him to make him feel so!

Sighing, Heechul wandered back towards his friends.

“Mimi, can we go?”

Zhou Mi sighed and uncurled his long legs to stand to his full height. “Okay, but this doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying.”

Heechul smiled, mentally noting down to hug the Chinese man whenever he next got the chance. His sweet dongsaeng, always doing whatever he could to help him, whether Zhou Mi was conscious of it or not. From helping his recovery from the accident Heechul had survived from, to understanding that despite the two of them were equally as gay, Heechul never ever wanted to talk about it.

The pair paced back down the aisle to the exit, and Heechul glanced one last time back to the golden crucifix. He then realised that above all the things he felt here, he did not feel out of place.

Siwon stopped and the sudden stop of the click of his boots on the wooden floor caught Heechul’s attention. The brunette turned slowly, to find those dark eyes staring straight at him, and straight into his own eyes. Momentarily stunned, Heechul stood frozen, only able to watch as the smallest of smiles ghosted Siwon’s lips.

Could Siwon see him…?

Zhou Mi also noticed that Siwon wasn’t following anymore and spun around to question. “Shi Yuan? What is it?”

“I just thought, I’m not wanted here. And I don’t care. I’m finally free to feel what I’ve tried to quell for years.”

Heechul hung his head low, swept away and possessed entirely by defeat. A false hope. It was pointless. He would never find Faith in order to save his friend. He was useless. He should probably just retire and leave the job to Zhou Mi, who would make a far better angel than Heechul could ever aspire to be.

“But it’s too late.”

Heechul watched as Siwon ce again, that deep sadness haunting his eyes once again; watched Siwon’s back retreating and leaving his vision altogether as the church doors slammed shut behind them. That last whisper inspired something inside of the brunette that he couldn’t quite comprehend, but it was like fuel to a fire. A drive to succeed where he so far had failed.

“It’s not too late to be honest,” to ourselves, to each other! Heechul said aloud, voice loud and strong to himself. “I’ll do this for the both of us!”