The next few weeks passed in a blur. You had to study for school and exams and Taemin was practically banned from disturbing you. He used all the time he had –and he had a lot – to practice holding things on his own. He was ing about how tired he was, but also how stupid he was for not starting training this earlier.

Then the exams come and you get no sleep, no rest and no time to do your ‘research’ on him. Everything is once again the same as it was before you found out that Taemin died in a car accident, that he had a girlfriend, that he was always as mysterious as he was now, and all the little things. At some point you even forget about the whole thing, but the ring around your neck reminds you about him every time it touches your skin.

At the end of the exams week you flop onto the couch, completely worn-out, your limbs sore and your head so heavy you’re afraid it’ll break the damn sofa. You growl into the pillow.

“At least it’s over,” Taemin says from somewhere in the room. “You can finally get more than three hours of sleep, that’s a success if you ask me.”

“I’ll be able to sleep longer if you will stop talking,” you answer, but there’s no venom to it. It’s stuffed with a yawn as well and Taemin chuckles at you. When you open your eye, he’s crouching down by the couch, eyeing you carefully.

Your stomach makes a weird flip and at that you heart rate speeds up.

What the hell.

Taemin smiles at you reassuringly, nods as if he just made up his mind and he stands up, stretching out.

“Okay, I’ll leave you be. Can we go out when you’re rested enough?” He asks a little sheepishly.

“Yep,” you answer. “Sorry I couldn’t take you out during the last weeks.”

“We need to do a grocery run. And finally make you something healthy to eat. All the instant soups you’ve eaten are probably still hanging in your stomach, I heard they—“

“Ugh, gross, no,” you wave a hand at him. Taemin snickers and glances at you for the last time before he makes his way upstairs.

You swallow hard, your palms clammy and your cheeks red, and no, this just can’t be happening.

*

“Take some peaches,” says Taemin, pointing wildly at the fruits. You make a face, glance at him quickly and he pouts. “Come on, peaches are great.”

You don’t like peaches and you hope that your eyes are expressional enough for him to understand that.

He keeps on telling you what to buy and it seems that he’d really like to eat all the stuff here. It must be really freaking unpleasant, awful, even, to see all this delicious food and not being able to eat it all.

He stops in front of banana milk section for a beat too long practically drooling.

“I prefer chocolate,” you whisper to him, seeing as no one is by the fridge at the moment.

“Buy it, buy it!” Taemin chimes, flailing around. Then he growls loudly and hides his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have come here. I want to eat all of this stuff. They have a whole section of Nutella, Eun Ri,” he adds in awe. You roll his eyes at him, fond smile on your lips, as you take the chocolate and banana milk from the fridge.

“You know that even though I’ll take it, you won’t be able to drink it, right?”

“Duh.”

“Then why are you insisting on it?”

Taemin shrugs, his expression soft.

“I want you to try the things I like.”

You didn’t need him to say that.

You really didn’t need to hear that.

You look at the milk section, looking for something to do with your hands, and you snatch a big bottle of normal milk, throwing it into the cart. You roll it further ahead, Taemin following you cheerily and jumping a little from time to time, excited and happy.

You hear a child laughing and then squealing at something as you pick out the fish for dinner.

“Tuna or salmon?” You ask, eyeing the packages. Taemin is quiet for a long time and you frown at the silence. You look up to see the boy staring at something, his eyes half-lidded and his lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze is soft, but he’s biting his lips hard, so you’re not exactly sure what’s going on.

You follow his gaze to see a familiar girl standing by the vegetables section, jumping up and down at something her brother is saying. You frown, recognizing Minho, and you quickly look away with a soft curse on your lips.

You glance at Taemin. The boy is still eyeing the girl carefully, his expression completely blank now, and you almost nudge his elbow, only you get reminded not to touch him.

You can only figure it has something to do with his previous life and it makes your heart ache. You decide to leave him be, so he can wallow in any pain he has, while you make your way away from Minho and his preening stare.

Taemin joins you exactly seven minutes later, when you’re picking out drinks and heading to the cash register. He peeks into the cart, nods at something, but doesn’t say a word.

When you’re on the parking lot, bags in your hands, he scratches his head.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you carrying these,” he says apologetically, pointing at the bags.

“Well that would freak everybody out,” you state, sending him a quick smile.

He’s silent on the way home and you don’t try to engage him in a conversation either.

Tomorrow you will be able to get out of the house and find out more about him again.

*

You tell Taemin that you’re meeting with Kyungmi. It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s not exactly a full truth either. You end up in your school’s library once again, waiting in a beeline to talk with the old librarian. You watch the dust dancing in the afternoon sun when the last person in front of you finally finishes.

“Morning,” the librarian greets, sending you a tight smile. “How did your exams go?”

You go into a rant about tests and exams and he listens carefully. You spend ten minutes chit-chatting about nothing in particular. He tells you about his grandchildren and how he’s planning on spending the next weekend by the lake and you don’t even realize when half an hour passes. You also have no idea how did you go from grandchildren to old rock bands.

“But,” the librarian says at last, “I know you’re not here to chit-chat. What can I do for you today? Are you still on your mission?”

You smile at him fondly and chuckle, not able to answer properly. The man raises a brow at you and smiles knowingly.

“I know what you’re looking for,” he says and at that, he crouches down to pull something out of his desk.

“So I had to break a few rules to get these,” he whispers, “but it seems like it’s quite important for you, so here you go. If anyone knows anything about Taemin’s death, it’s these two.”

He slides a piece of paper with two names on it, together with addresses. The first one says ‘Kim Jonghyun’, who lives on the west side of the city, and the second one says ‘Park Ae Sook’. The name makes your heart clench a little and your stomach twists in jealousy you didn’t know you possessed.

“Jonhgyun-sshi was one of Taemin’s friends. Ae Sook moved recently. To be honest, I didn’t know if she’s still alive,” the librarian says. “You should check these addresses.”

“Thank you so much,” you say sincerely. “I promise I won’t do anything stupid or get you in any trouble.”

“I’d appreciate it,” the man says. His expression is soft and vulnerable. “It’s good to know the memory of you doesn’t always disappear after you die.”

Sense of consciousness and guilt hits you. You don’t answer him, you just thank again, bow and exit the school, squeezing the paper in your hand. You find the first address on your phone, using the navigation, and you make your way towards the closest bus stop.

The way there is short, but for you it lasts hours. You sit and think about everything. About life after death, about what happens when you die, what happens when a ghost dies—

Taemin never wanted to answer any of the questions involving Heaven, God or anything like this. He was always very strict when it came to these kind of questions. You were a kid when you started asking him. Maybe that’s why you stopped, too; seeing how uncomfortable he was about the questions, your younger self felt as if doing something bad and stopped asking.

Now you wanted to ask again but were scared in the same time.

How would it be like to live as a ghost?

Were you ready to live as a ghost as well?

It wouldn’t be that bad, you think. On the other side, Taemin spend most of his ghost-y life alone, without being able to talk to anyone, trapped in the house. The same idea of it doesn’t really look appealing.

The bus stops and you hop out, your bag hitting your hip. You make your way towards the right street in a fast pace, passing the park full of blossoming trees. The sun shines high in the sky and it’s almost impossible to see anything in front of you. You cross the street, finding the right neighbourhood, and you make two circles around the place before finally finding the right house. When you knock, you start to wonder if Taemin’s parents are still alive, but your thoughts are interrupted by a middle-aged man in the doorstep opening the door.

“Yes?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow. He has those cute lines around his eyes indicating that he smiles a lot, strands of silver hair in his natural brown, and big, father-like eyes. Something similar to longing twists in your stomach.

“Hello,” you bow, putting the piece of paper back into the pocket of your skirt. “My name is Park Eun Ri. I’m—Was Lee Taemin’s relative.”

Jonghyun’s eyes open widely.

“Do you want to come in?” He asks a bit unsure. “I mean—“

“If it’s okay with you,” you say quickly. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Taemin’s family is my family,” Jonghyun smiles tightly, but his eyes are sad. “Come on in, I promise I’m not a creeper.”

The inside of the house is modern, light and spacious. You pass the kitchen and enter the living room.

“Tea?” Jonghyun asks. You shake your head no as he points at the couch, inviting you to sit down. He sits on the armchair opposite of you and lowers the volume in TV.

“So, how can I help you?” He asks. You wonder what you should tell him and how you should play this off, and the same as with the librarian, you decide to just go with it.

“I’m curious about his life,” you start. “I don’t know much about him apart from the fact that he died when he was in age similar to mine. I know he died in a car accident,” you stop for a second, swallowing hard. If you feel so bad about it then you don’t even want to know how Jonghyun has to feel.

“Yes,” the man sighs, rubbing his hands on his knees. “You seem quite engaged in the whole situation. Why? How did you even find out about him?”

“My mom dropped a hint or two,” you lie. “I did the rest of the research on my own. As I said, curiosity. I always had a thing for sticking my nose into other people’s business,” you say, going for a chuckle that sounds like a strangled, nervous laugh. You cough, hoping it’s not very obvious you’re lying. It stings in your gut. “I feel like I know him now. Like I should… Do something, find out more, maybe… Finish his business here. I don’t know.”

The last part takes a lot of will power to say and the moment the sentence gets out from between your lips, you realize that’s the exact point. You feel obliged to sort out Taemin’s life.

But what then?

You get lost in your thoughts for a bit and Jonghyun waves a hand in front of your face. You flush pink, apologizing.

“What do you want to know, then?” He asks, smiling again, but it seems quite forced.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you whisper sincerely. “I know I’m already crossing some boundaries—“

“No, no. It’s sad, but the memory of him should last long. I’m happy that someone from his family, no matter how distant it is, still remembers him and wants to know. I think he’d be grateful. You know.”

You nod.

“Taemin was an artistic soul. He loved singing and dancing more than anything. He always had at least two books with him and he’d read them at once.”

Taemin still read, but because he couldn’t always touch books he’d read with you. And he did sing most of the time, completely off-key, not realizing you’re listening to him.

“His death was quite a… blow,” Jonghyun runs a hand through his hair. “It still hurts, thinking about him. All these years. I wish he’d be here. He wanted to open a music store one day, you know. That or really go into music industry. He’d do well, I think. We all cheered for him.”

“Do you know the details of his death?”

Jonghyun bites his lip.

“No,” he says sternly. “The only person that truly knew was his girlfriend, Ae Sook. We keep in touch. I could give you her number, if you want.”

“I’d like that,” you say, pretending that you don’t have her freaking number written on a paper in your pocket. “How come no one else knows?”

“Well the police knows, obviously,” Jonghyun says. “But apart from them, Ae Sook was never able to share the secret with us. I think she feels guilty about his death. No one knows why and she doesn’t tell.”

“Is it possible that she… caused it?”

“I think she’s guilty without a real reason,” Jonghyun shakes his head. “The accident happened when they were having some relationship problems. My guess is, Taemin was restless and Ae Sook blames herself for putting him in that state. But it was nowhere her or Taemin’s fault. The main fault goes to the guy that hit him.”

You talk for another ten minutes. He mainly asks about your family and you have to make some stuff up so it looks like Taemin is a cousin of a cousin of a cousin and stuff like this. In the end he cracks a joke and the atmosphere eases a little. He walks you back to the door.

“If you want to know anything else, just come to me, right?” Jonghyun says, smiling. In the middle of putting your shoes on, you snap your eyes at him.

“Are his parents still alive?” You decide to ask.

“His father is,” Jonghyun answers. “His mom died not so long after he died. I think it was mostly of grief.”

You almost trip over your own feet and Jonghyun catches you in the last second. In the same moment someone opens the door and you see another man sticking his head inside. He’s a bit taller than Jonghyun, has black, stylized hair and is wearing a suit with a colorful shirt under it; he frowns deeply at the sight of Jonghyun hauling you onto your feet.

“Hi?” He greets, frowning even deeper. “Did you get her drunk? I understand that your students are grown-ups but she doesn’t even seem legal—“

“Shut up, Kibum,” Jonghyun drawls, but a fond smile is playing on his lips. “I didn’t give her alcohol.”

“I was just going out,” you say, bowing at the man. He smiled. You introduced yourself and he returned the favor, telling you that he was going to the same school as Taemin too. You leave soon after that, your heart aching.

Jonghyun closes the door to their house, sighing deeply. Kibum takes off his shoes, glancing at him. He pats him on the back and rubs it gently for a few seconds.

“Past, huh?”

*

You stare at Taemin, who is holding a book.

He glances at you with panic and shock all over his face and when he loses eye contact with the thing, the book slips through his silver fingers and falls onto the floor with a thud. He growls loudly, jumping with annoyance, and throws himself onto the couch, sulking.

“That’s something,” you say, picking the book up and playing with it a few seconds. “At least sitting on stuff comes naturally to you.”

“That’s weird, too,” Taemin sighs.

“Yeah. Like, why don’t you just disappear through the floor and ground if you’re transparent, right?” You chuckle. Taemin hums.

You look at his plump limps, soft eyes and long eyelashes, and your heart stutters in your chest.

*

You weren’t able to talk to Ae Sook. You just couldn’t.

You knew that he will eventually disappear. You didn't know the day, the hour. You only knew that he would be gone one day without any particular reason at all. 

Well, maybe there was one reason, and it was simple: he was a ghost.

Looking at him was painful, because after growing up by his side you got so used to his presence that it was weird when he wasn't around.

And it was painful because you fell in love with him. 

Now you knew it.

And you stared at his pale skin that you could almost see through, at his deep, but very misty eyes and lips that looked so cold and couldn't get this thought out of your head; that he will be gone one day and you had no idea what would happen to him, to you, to your life, to the universe. 

But right now he was here. He was here and he wasn’t going anywhere, because it wasn’t likely he’ll just sort out his problems on his own.

Two sides fought inside you. One side wanted to help him. Finally let him go.

The other side wanted you to keep him.

Like a pet.

It sounded selfish. Cruel. Manipulative. But you couldn’t imagine your life without him. Not now, not when you realized that you’re in love with him. You didn’t see him as a brother anymore, even though he probably did.

You curled into a ball under the covers, hiding your face in your hands and wondering when did this happen. When did you fall in love with his eyes, his movements, his wit, his sarcasm, his warm words, his advices, his singing, his little habits, his comments during watching the movies, his ideas during writing something for school, his shyness and mysteriousness that was almost always driving you crazy, but mostly made him like him more, crave information about him more.

You couldn’t even cry, because you had no right to. He was the one who died, he was the one tormented enough that he couldn’t even leave the world without second guessing himself.

You had to help him understand. You had to help him finish his business and finally let him go, because what if even ghosts have some kind of limited time here on Earth? How long can he continue on living here?

You shut your eyes close, squeezing them almost painfully. All your muscles hurt.

“Eun Ri?”

You almost growled. You didn’t open your eyes or took off the blanket from your head, but you could feel Taemin’s presence beside your bed.

“You okay?”

“PMSing,” you decided to say. There was silence and you hoped you fooled him.

“You had it last week,” Taemin said then, catching you on a lie. You popped your head out from under the covers.

“And how did you know that?” You ask, frowning. You see his amused face.

“You ate all the remaining peas from the fridge,” he says. “Without anything else.”

You make a short ‘huh’ sound.

“So? What happened?” Taemin asks, sitting cross-legged by your bed.

“Nothing.”

“Is Minho acting out again?”

“He’s not,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “It’s just…”

He raises his brows, inviting you to speak and showing you that he’s listening. He always listens but he never shares.

“I really want you to be happy,” you say. Taemin frowns, his face becomes confused and his eyes are restless on your face. He swallows after a while, looks to the side.

“I’m happy,” he says. “I’m happy because you’re here and you see me and I’m not lonely anymore. I’m happy.”

“If you’d be happy, you wouldn’t be here,” you say. “It’s not a place for you, Taemin, it’s—“

“How do you know?” He counters. “I mean, all we know about ghosts comes from internet. How can we really know what happens after death or, or, what’s the nature of ghosts? Maybe all of us become ghosts after we die. Maybe I only think that the ring keeps me here, maybe it’s all about mentality, maybe—“

He seems lost in his own words and he gives up after a while.

“We should sort out your things, Taemin,” you whisper. He snaps his eyes up at you, offended and hurt.

“Why? Don’t you want me here anymore?”

You sit up, frowning at him.

“How can you even think that? Of course I want you here,” you gasp out. “Don’t you even dare to assume I don’t want you here.”

“Then why?”

You bite your lip, hiding your face in your hands again and rubbing it a little.

“Because you had your life,” you say. “And it was taken from you untimely. But you stayed here. No matter what happens after death, you need to see – you need to sort out everything so your conscience is clear.”

“Nothing happens without a reason, Eun Ri,” Taemin says then. “I died because it was my time to die.”

That truly surprises you.

“What?”

Taemin shrugs.

“It was my time to go,” he says, whispers, a tear showing in his eye. How is that even possible on a ghost, you think, when it gets to you and your own eyes get watery in a second. You want to hug him, embrace him, comfort him; you make a stuttered movement to touch him and then remember you can’t.

“God only takes us when it’s our time to go. When he knows there’s nothing more for us here to do. When he knows we’re in the best moment of our life.”

“That’s bull!” You shout, blood boiling in your veins. “Are you telling me that there wasn’t anything left for you here? How can you even say such things? You had friends, you had a family, you had a girlfriend—“

“You should stop trying to find out things about me,” Taemin says, his voice cold. “I’m happy as I am.”

You open your mouth to argue, to shout, but he disappears in the exact second.

“Taemin!” You shout, standing up and making a circle around the room. You flail around, angry. “Come out, talk to me you idiot!”

There’s silence. You feel your knees giving out, but you stay up.

“What are you so freaking scared of?” You ask him, sure that he’s listening. “No one hates you for anything you’ve done. I don’t know what you left here, what made you feel too guilty to leave out world, what are you waiting for, but believe me when I say that no one blames you or hates you. We can… We can fix it all together. Please, Taemin!”

But there’s only silence.

Unbeta'd so feel free to point any grammar mistakes/typos! 

Happy Easter guys :)