It had been some sort of odd arrangement, he realised. Hospital bed and misunderstanding. Awkward friendship and gentle touches, sterile white and needles in his flesh, solitude and a hope darker than black.

The room had been empty when he woke up. That was until he rolled around and found a figure half hidden in a shadow sitting in an armchair. He was playing with a lighter.

“Planning an arson?” said Youngjae, sitting up on the bed with a groan.

The figure did not give him his usual grin. When his eyes found him, Youngjae felt his heart stop.

“What’s happening to you?” Youngjae wheezed.

He thought he knew the answer even before the figure said it.

“You are what’s happening to me,” the figure said. “Do you understand, Yoo Youngjae, that your whimsical dreams are ripping other people apart?”

All of a sudden, Youngjae felt fury and bile rise up in him and he wanted to lash out but he knew that wouldn’t do for a rational being such as himself. His fingers clenched on the sheets, shaking with rage, barely restrained.

“How much more…” he started to say between the gnashing of his teeth. “How much more do I have to take?”

The figure tilted his head to the side in sign of contemplation. “What do you mean by that?”

“What. What do I mean by that?” He barked out a laugh so derisive he couldn’t believe it came from him. “How much more do I have to care about other people before I get what I want?”

“Youngjae…”

The figure stood up and strode forward, the shadow clinging onto him fell away like a cloak of night.

“As long as you are human, you will care. It won’t matter if you’re dead or alive, you will care and you will continue to do so no matter your different human forms. Because that is what it means to be human,” said Jiho, who was no longer just Jiho but something else. One of his eyes had turned a mismatched yellow, his humour and humanity was fading away before Youngjae’s eyes.

“Do you know the difference between the living and the dead, Youngjae?” said Jiho, louder now. “We are all defined by our regrets as much as our choices. But as long as we are alive and living, we will be able to move forward. That is something the dead cannot do. Can never do.”

Youngjae stared at his hands. “Your point?”

“My point, brat, is this.”

Jiho suddenly grabbed the back of Youngjae’s head and with the click of the lighter, Youngjae’s mouth fell open ready to scream. A silver ball of light floated atop the lighter. Jiho shoved it into Youngjae’s mouth.

“Since when was it that you’ve gotten used to losing?” he asked, after it was all over, after Youngjae lied slump in his arms, after his heart monitor stopped its steady rhythm of life.

“You are no use to anyone like this Yoo Youngjae. Not even yourself. It is natural to wish to stop caring, for affection brings pain. But to pursue on such ridiculous notion…those who do not care cease to be human.”

*

“They are not home.”

They parked at the front of one of the white houses. It had a colourful garden, an expanse of the lawn, a green toolshed. The house was rectangular, looking no more than what it was, but the paint looked fresh and the roof was bright.

Suddenly, she felt unsafe and feverish. Her hands were beginning to sweat and tremble. Junhong kissed the top of her head and stepped out of the car to take their luggages out of the trunk.

“Try the doorbell,” he called out.

She trudged over the lawn and rang the doorbell. No one answered.

“Let’s go back,” she said.

“Don’t be silly. Call your mother,” he said, rolling their luggages onto the porch.

He sighed when she made no move to do so and took out his phone.

She stared at him.

She was reminded of the summer after they’d turned eleven and ten years old, when his father attempted to teach them the finer points of not sinking like a rock in the water: an abject failure and source of much humiliation, but. But the sun brightened the skin on Junhong’s until it almost hurt to look, the water made his hair cling in inky rivulets to his neck, and the smell of sea and sand filled Junhee’s lungs when she bit her salt-chapped lips and inhaled—

“They’ve just done grocery shopping. They’re on their way,” he said now, pushing his phone into his back pocket.

He knelt at her feet, hair swinging forward, and she rested her hand on top of his head. He chuckled and untied her shoelaces then his own.

“Key’s behind the pot plant,” he said.

He reached around her ankles, an arm wrapped firmly around her knees for support.

“Well?” she said.

She remembered the way the water broke the sunlight into flickering, mutable patterns and the faint green-gray tinge to the undulating sky. She remembered the fat bubbles bursting from their mouths and wriggling upwards, remembered the enveloping pressure of the sea all around them, remembered Junhong’s laughing blurry face following after her and the warm grip of his hands.

“Here you go.”

He presented her with the silver key and smiled brightly up at her with no hint of bitterness or restraint.

She blinked.

“What is it?” he said, smile faltering. He rested his chin on her thigh, his expression dripping with genuine concern.

She touched his face. “You’ve changed.”

The tension fell away and his expression softened.

“So have you,” he said.

“Have I?” she asked.

Junhong sighed and tugged her down by the front her shirt. “Come here, you.”

*

Evening painted the sky in orange splatters and nothing could be done. Two figures sat on different ends of the bench at the bus stop. This was their last summer. Jiho could feel it. His memories were fading now. His heart was beginning to slow. His physical form had become a burden. He had wasted away all the magic in him. And all for what?

Wretched human emotions were filtering through his body, coursing through his veins and into each marrow of his bones. Bitterness, despair, helplessness, anguish, frustration, loneliness… He looked down at his tattered sneakers, at the dark puddle beneath them. His yellowing eyes glinted back.

“Why did you do it?” said the slouched figure from the other side.

Jiho said nothing.

“Jiho,” the figure said. “Caw.”

Jiho turned to meet those sombre eyes. “Nothing lasts forever, Kyung.”

“Did it have to be now?” asked Kyung. “What will the others say if they found out?”

“They won’t,” said Jiho. “Such transient nature of humans. They will all but forget about me as soon as I–”

“Don’t,” hissed Kyung.

“You must forget too. There is no other way,” said Jiho.

Kyung hugged his knees closer to his chest, their hearts aching with emotions they could not name. “Since when was it that we’ve gotten used to losing?”

“Indeed?”

*

Dabin had been crying again. How annoying.

“What are you, a hopeless romantic?” Kris sneered, fists tight on the steering wheel.

“Maybe I am,” Dabin said defiantly.

Jisun, who had been checking her phone every so often, now cried in surprise as the device beeped.

Kris’s heart squeezed at the way his surrogate mother beamed at whatever she saw.

“They’ve arrived. Her boyfriend just texted me, we should hurry!”

Kris drove. Jisun sat in the passenger seat. Dabin whined from the back.

“Will Tao be coming?” Jisun asked.

“I told him.” Kris scratched his chin. “He’s sort of busy with interviews and things. He’ll come if he makes it in time.”

Jisun continued to beam.

Dabin sniffled from the back.

“Not again,” Kris groaned.

“Kris,” said Jisun amiably. “What is it, Dabin?”

“I feel so sad! She must be suffering so much! People are trying to break into her house. Why is there so much hate in the world?”

“What are you on about?” said Kris.

“Wht is the world so cruel? This isn’t fair, I– I–”

“Gods, just shut up for a moment, or I’ll crash this car,” said Kris.

“Kris, where’s your patience gone?” Jisun sighed. “You’ve been agitated lately.”

“Because a certain idiot has entered my life. I can’t help but–”

“Everybody hates me!” Dabin wailed.

“Oh, Dabin darling. That’s not true. We love you. Your parents love you. Your friends–”

“You need to stop coddling him. He’s a young adult, not a baby,” said Kris.

“Oh come on. You’re only jealous because you were so uptight as a teenager.”

“Excuse me, mother. But this uptightness is the one paying for everything.”

“I know, honey. My appreciation hasn’t decreased one bit. All I’m saying is you’ve always had difficulty showing your emotions. It must have been hard.”

Kris scowled. “No it hasn’t.”

Finally, they arrived and parked the car behind the shiny black sporty expensive-looking one. Dabin gaped. “That car is awesome cool!”

Jisun chuckled quietly.

“Auntie, your daughter’s boyfriend must be really rich! I like him already,” said Dabin, now drooling with his face pressed into the sports car window.

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