Letters From Heaven

Life is not always fair. Some people are taken away from this world so suddenly that those who are still alive have not the chance to say a few last words of farewell. Luckily, there was a special mailbox that was reserved only for letters that people wrote for those who have died. And fortunately, an angel was the postman responsible for these letters.

Although it was autumn, the sun glowed strongly in that morning. The wind was cold and it wasn't strong or weak neither, only medium, just enough to swing some orange leaves that hadn't fallen from the few trees that had there yet and made the tall grasses that sprouted from the ground dance together in its rhythm. The atmosphere of the open field was soothing and anyone that put their feet there could think, surely, that was in a place where them could have contact with Heaven.

In the middle of the field was located a mailbox. It was old, with its red painting already faded and the numbers deleted. Only a horizontal and rectangular slit in the front and a little door with a lock in the back of the mailbox. It looked like a bird house, because it had even a roof above the cubic structure. A old and simple mailbox that would go unnoticed in the eyes of all if it was located in a house in the city, but that in that specific place, in the middle of the open field and away from all the cars, noises and hectic activities of the city, had a special meaning. People went there just seeking that mailbox. And there they put letters containing yearnings, lamentations, joys, sadness, heartaches, afflictions, nostalgias. 

All the letters were addressed to people that had already gone thought this world and now rested in Heaven.

But how to know if someone that had died really went to Heaven?, some people wonder. How to know if they hadn't gone to Hell or if they still wander through the Purgatory? Unfortunately, there aren't answers to these questions. Everyone lives in ignorance of what happens after death. But all those people that came to deposit their letters in Heaven's mailbox were sure that the letters' receivers resided now in Heaven. Nobody had told them that, or gave them a confirmation either, but it didn't prevent them from having faith.

Every day the mailbox was full. And every day it was empty as well.

Some people say that they had seen a man - or a boy perhaps - go to the mailbox, open the little door behind, remove all the letters, put them in a bag and then go away as if this was the most normal thing to do in the world. As if that duty of retire all the letters addressed to the dead people from Heaven's mailbox was an ordinary job like deliver bills.

The gossip about the Heaven's postman soon emerged and soon disappeared. No one could see the boy near. Perhaps he didn't want to be seen and hid himself very well. The boy probably wanted to keep the anonymity whilst he did his good actions of helping people that hadn't overcame yet the death of their loved ones. But other people preferred to believe that he was an angel sent by Heaven to help those poor souls to overcome the pain of losing someone they love.

That was the duty of the Heaven's postman. Some people, after they deposited their letters, received another back, some time later, an answer that they believed was sent from Heaven. Sometimes was a letter, or an object that had meaning to the deceased person. Other times the answer came in a discreet way and the person didn't even notice that it was really an answer, but the effect was the same. The loved one that was in Heaven had answered their letters. And that brought a comfort, tranquility, peace to them who had sent the letter that was difficult to measure how much.

All that thanks to the angel that no one ever saw but that everybody knew was there. The angel that had never introduced himself but that always seemed to know the letters' senders. To the angel that had never failed with anybody and that cared about the people that wrote the letters to the deceased ones.

The angel that was the Heaven's postman.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Do Kyungsoo took a deep breath three times. He always did that when he was about to put his letters in Heaven's mailbox. After he put it there, there was no way to take it back.  

He looked through the slit, seeing that it was already full of letters. On the ground there was some objects, like lunch boxes, books that didn't passed through the slit and bouquets of flowers. A lot of people visited Heaven's mailbox today, apparently.

Kyungsoo had never gone at that time, in the end of the afternoon, near of sunset. When he went, was always in the morning, before he goes to university. He didn't live near that open field, but the one hour trip from his house until there was worth it. But that day was a Saturday and he decided to innovate and send his letter in a different time.

He looked at his letter making a last inspection on it. The light-blue envelope was properly sealed, with a sticker closing it, and its content was intact. Kyungsoo slid his letter through the mailbox's slit, releasing the air he was holding, and, when the envelope was totally into the mailbox, he in- and exhaled again, but this time smoother. He always got a little bit nervous when he wrote a letter and put it in that mailbox, but when he did it he felt a huge relief running through his body.

He looked at the mailbox for a while, wondering when he would receive an answer to his letters. He had already sent a few of them - okay, he had sent lots of them - and until now he hadn't received any reply. That let him a little disappointed, because he had already searched in the internet and he saw reports of people that had really had an answer. But it didn't matter how many letters he sent, he never received an only one feedback.

That made him feel sad. An answer to his letter was everything that he most wanted that moment. Everything that he needed. But until now he hadn't received any, so the persisted and kept visiting that old but very special mailbox.

He gave one last look at Heaven's mailbox and sighed. He was about to turn around to go away and come back home, before it got dark and he got lost in the way back, but his eyes were distracted by a vision of someone getting closer. The sun was strong behind the stranger that approached and Kyungsoo could have a better sight of them when he was already very close.

The person  was a boy, probably of his age, dressed in very simple and comfortable clothes - jeans, tshirt, coat and a lightweight scarf. His hair swang by the rhythm of the wind, the bangs covering his eyes a little bit. He walked slowly in the mailbox's direction, carrying on his shoulder a bag that appeared to be a little full.

The boy reached Heaven's mailbox and, ignoring completely Kyungsoo's presence there, searched for something in his bag. Before Kyungsoo could process whether he should feel fear or not of that stranger and of what he would take from there, the boy in front of him took a key and started to open the little door in the back of the mailbox. The lock was unlocked and then he started to remove the letters from inside the mailbox to his bag, grumbling something that seemed like "I should have emptied this bag earlier."

Kyungsoo was simply in shock. He couldn't believe. A person was stealing all the mails that people addressed to those who have passed away - and his letter was there!

"Y-yah!" Kyungsoo's voice failed amid the shock of witnessing such scene. He hawked, clearing his throat and tried again. "Yah! What are you doing?!"

The boy didn't diverted his eyes from the letters and replied in a monotonous voice: "I'm picking up the mails."

Kyungsoo opened his mouth, speechless. He really couldn't believe that he would receive that as answer. "I can see the you are picking up the mails. But what makes you think that you can rob others' mails?"

"I'm not robbing nobody's mails." The boy then finally looked at Kyungsoo, furrowing his brows and looking confused. Kyungsoo could see the boy's pretty features, the plump lips, the brown eyes that were almost closed because of the sun, the harmonic features, the tanned skin.

"Okay, then you are stealing these correspondences." He continued, not being affected by that strange thief's beauty.

"I'm also not stealing anything." And then the stranger kept trying to oversupply his bag with the letters.

Kyungsoo snorted. "I don't know how to describe the act of taking away something that doesn't belong to you. My letter is there and it, surely, it's not yours."

"But these mails belong to the dead."

Kyungsoo didn't like the way that that stranger had said that. Although he knew that, yes, the receivers of these letters were dead, he still didn't like to say it in a so direct way. A little of euphemism didn't hurt anyone in these kind of situations.

"In the moment that you put the letter in Heaven's mailbox, it doesn't belongs to you anymore." The stranger continued. "The letter will belong to the dead."

"And what makes you think that you can pick up the de-" Kyungsoo interrupted himself. "-the mails of those who are gone?"

The stranger stopped what he was doing and looked significantly at  Kyungsoo. His eyes were narrow and looked directly toward Kyungsoo's, making him feel a little uncomfortable. It was as if he was trying to read Kyungsoo that moment, read him through his eyes. Eyes, the soul's windows. Kyungsoo had never believed in that, but that stranger was making him think that it perhaps could be true and that he perhaps was expert in that kind of reading. 

"I'm an angel."

Kyungsoo was so distracted by that penetrating gaze that he had even forgotten that he had made a question and he expected an answer to it.  He managed to broke that visual contact, and then he babbled: "W-what?"

"An angel. I'm sort of an intermediary between the living and those who are gone. My names is Kim Jongin."

Kyungsoo just looked at the stranger's hand - now he was identified as Kim Jongin, the angel -, as if he touched it his own hand would burn. He then lifted his gaze and saw that Jongin was with an expression that indicated he was waiting for Kyungsoo to introduce himself as well.

Kyungsoo sighed. A little of politeness didn't hurt anyone as well, even if your interlocutor was a complete lunatic. He extended his hand and squeezed Jongin's hand, who was still waiting for him to say his name. 

"My name is Do Kyungsoo." Kyungsoo said in a low voice.

When he heard Kyungsoo's name, Jongin grinned, showing his perfectly white and straight teeth. But then the smile opened and a laugh came out of his mouth. That made Kyungsoo withdraw his hand, in a defensive way, and print a sulky expression on his face.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You've put a lot of letters addressed to Heaven. A relatively large amount, to tell the truth."

Kyungsoo couldn't stand to be in the presence of that freak who claimed to be an angel and was now disregarding his letters. He was about to follow his instinct against crazy people and simply turn around and go away, but he stopped when he saw that Jongin was searching for something in his bag. Kyungsoo didn't believe that he could take from there a sharp or dangerous object, so he just waited to see what it was. Jongin then finally took from there a letter that Kyungsoo didn't linger more than two seconds to recognize. The light-blue paper, the penguin sticker locking the envelope - although the sticker was already worn out because someone apparently had already opened it.

Jongin then started to read the content of the letter in a monotone voice, but with a light touch of innocent joy, though in Kyungsoo's head he was reading in a voice completely evil.

"Ah, Joonmyun, I don't even know if you'll receive this letter. Actually, I think it's impossible you receive it, but I decided to let my pessimism beside and bet on luck. I didn't believe when I heard of what happened. Actually, I didn't want to believe. And I don't know how I'll be able to-"

"YAH!" Kyungsoo yelled. "What do you think you're doing?! I wrote it only for Joonmyun read! And not for a lunatic postman! This is intimate! You're practicing privacy violation! Give me my letter back!" Kyungsoo tried to pick up his letter, but the postman just extend his arm above, letting the paper and envelope out of Kyungsoo's reach. Kyungsoo tried to jump, but yet he failed in picking up his letter back. He gave up, grumbling something about being too short and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"The letter isn't yours anymore." Jongin explained with a calm and collected voice, and a gaze that parents used when they explained to their children why they couldn't eat the dessert before dinner.

"And I have to read the letters, so I can send the answers." Jongin continued and put the letter back in his bag.

"And how do you send the answers from those who are gone? Do you use your angel's supernatural powers-" Kyungsoo laughed for a second of his own sarcasm and continued. "-and ask them what is to answer in the letter?"

And then Kyungsoo heard one more time the laugh of that lunatic, although his laugh seemed too melodic for someone that he judged to be a freak.

"I'm pleased to know that you indeed believe that I'm an angel." Jongin was clearly pretending not to see the sarcasm in what Kyungsoo had said, which only annoyed him even more. "But your imagination in a little too creative."

"So how do you answer the letters?"

"I can show you if you accept to work with me. I'm needing an auxiliary. As you can see, my bag is really full of letters."

Kyungsoo was sure that if he saw that grin on that lunatic's face one more time he wouldn't answer by the punch that he would give on those shiny teeth. Not that he had much strength to cause any serious damage, but what matters is the intention.

"I'm not going to accept any job without knowing what I have to do. And you're changing the subject. Give me my letter back!"

Jongin raised his index finger as if to say to Kyungsoo wait a moment. He then turned to rummage in his bag, removing letters from there.   

"From Do Kyungsoo to Kim Joonmyun... from Do Kyungsoo to Kim Joonmyun... from Do Kyungsoo to Kim Joonmyun... from Do Kyungsoo to Kim Joonmyun..." Jongin said whilst he looked for the letters addressed to Joonmyun in his bag, reading the sender and the receiver to not pick up the wrong ones. He was arranging them in a pile above the mailbox. The pile was already so high that it started to tilt to one side. Kyungsoo extended his arms and put his hand in both side of the pile so the letters wouldn't fall or fly because of the wind.

"From Do Kyungsoo to Kim Joonmyun... From Zhan-" Jongin interrupted himself and stared confused to the letter's envelope. "This isn't from Do Kyungsoo to Kim Joonmyun. Kim Joonmyun receive so many letters from you that I hadn't even realized before that this isn't yours. I didn't even open it, because I didn't want to read the same silly things that you always write."

Kyungsoo got red because of the anger he was feeling. Or shame. He wasn't sure of anything else but the fact that he really wanted to punch that idiot postman right on his face.

"They're not silly things! They're feelings regarding the person I love. If you're too insensitive to understand the content of the letter, it's not my fault." Kyungsoo pouted, a little upset with what Jongin had said. After all, those words addressed to Joonmyun had come from the very bottom of his heart, he had cried until he haven't no more tears in his eyes and there was a lunatic postman saying that his most deep feelings were silly things. This was hardly a stab in his heart, because Jongin wasn't his friend or anything like that, so what he said didn't really hurt Kyungsoo that much, but it was always bad to be ridiculed for something that is so important to you.

And then he realized that Jongin had said that the letter wasn't send by him. "Wait a second. You've said that this letter isn't mine? It's from who?"

"Someone named Zhang Yixing. Do you know him?"

Kyungsoo rummaged everywhere in his mind. "No..."

Jongin clicked his tongue and put a hand on his hips whilst he looked at the locked letter. "I'm sorry that I hadn't read this letter before. And the fault it's all yours." He pointed to Kyungsoo.

"This kind of blame doesn't affect me." Kyungsoo hissed. That Kim Jongin was really  making Kyungsoo get mad in that moment. "And why are you sorry? It might have nothing relevant in this letter. After all, I was Joonmyun's boyfriend and I know that this Zhang Yixing wasn't from his family nor was his friend either, because I don't know him and I've never heard of him. He wasn't someone important to Joonmyun, so, consequently, there's nothing important in this letter." Kyungsoo passed a hand through his hair, but soon returned to hold the pile of letter before it fell on the ground. "Moreover, it must be another Kim Joonmyun that Zhang Yixing knew. There isn't just one Kim Joonmyun in this world." Then he corrected himself quickly, feeling a slight twinge in the chest: "Or in the other."

Jongin looked at Kyungsoo with a fun expression, as if he wanted so much to laugh but he was controlling himself to not do that.

"You seem to be scared that Zhang Yixing had been someone important to Kim Joonmyun. Maybe he was cheating on you and-"

Kyungsoo couldn't resist anymore. He had to hit that lunatic postman that didn't speak nothing more than silliness. "Idiot!" Kyungsoo hit him not so strong in his arm, because although he was very angry at that idiot guy - repeat, very idiot -, he was still a stranger that could be a violent person. That and the fact that Kyungsoo always lost all the physical fights that he was involved, so it would be in vain starting one right there with that postman that seemed to be stronger than him as well.

"Ouch!" Jongin protested and massaged his arm, which was a really exaggerated reaction in Kyungsoo's point of view. "You're really afraid of this being true. And I was thinking in read the content of the letter with you, but seeing how you overreact when you hear things that you don't want to - and also because of the fact that you've just hit me - I won't let you read what Zhang Yixing wrote for your so loved boyfriend Kim Joonmyun anymore."    

"But this isn't fair!" Kyungsoo slammed his foot on the ground. He was so angry that he ignored his letters addressed to Joonmyun, which were now flying because of the wind.

"Life is not always fair." Jongin sighed and looked at the sky, watching the clouds. He then turned his attention to Kyungsoo, with a playful gaze. "But I'll let you read the letter if you accept to work with me."

Kyungsoo passed his hands through his hair and took a deep breath one, two, three times. Trying to control his voice tone and the anger that didn't disappeared yet, he grumbled: "But I still don't know exactly what you do."

"I only reply the letters. I'll show you how I do that and then you decide if you accept this proposal or not."

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then you'll pass the rest of your life wondering whether Kim Joonmyun cheated on you with Zhang Yixing or not."

"Argh!" Kyungsoo complained loud and looked at the sky. Perhaps a miracle will happen and a light will hit the lunatic Kim Jongin right on his head that moment and then he could pick up Zhang Yixing's letter and go away from there as if nothing had happened. Kyungsoo waited for a moment, but not happened. He sighed. "You aren't being even a little reasonable, you know? What you're doing it's called blackmail!"

Jongin just raised an eyebrow, with a challenging countenance, and extended his hand for Kyungsoo squeeze it. "Do you accept?"

"Okay, okay. I accept." Kyungsoo shook quickly Jongin's hand and soon after released it. "But you have to promise me that you'll let me read this letter."

"Only after you work with me for a while and not disturb me and help me for real." Jongin listed his conditions, which weren't actually much difficult to obey. Kyungsoo would obey them if the job wasn't too difficult, because he refused to do some super difficult work for that lunatic. And he rather stay the rest of his life doubting regarding Zhang Yixing's letter than to do that. Ah, and if the job was something illegal he wouldn't accept it either.

But he had to wait to see what it was, after all, the job which Kim Jongin talked about.

"The sacrifices that I do for Joonmyun..." Kyungsoo whispered only for him to hear.

"What have you said?"

"That I will work as hard as I can." Kyungsoo put a fake smile in his face, already tired of fighting with the postman.

Jongin smiled, approving what Kyungsoo had said, even knowing that he was being fake. He then caught the mailbox's key and locked it again.

"Our first work starts tomorrow morning. We can meet at Blue Angel's Café, in downtown, at 10 o'clock. Until tomorrow, Do Kyungsoo."

And then Jongin turned his back and started to walk back at the path he had come, without waiting for Kyungsoo to answer his goodbye.

Kyungsoo growled whilst he saw the postman that claimed to be an angel against the sunlight of the sun that were already setting. He was more an evil spirit, in Kyungsoo's opinion. What kind of angel disturbs a human being like that? Putting doubts in his head and blackmailing was anything else but a dignified attitude of an angel. Angels should be kind and pure beings, who just want others to feel good and happy. That who he just had talked to was evil, cruel, blackmailer and ridiculed everything that was important to Kyungsoo. Perhaps he was a fallen angel? Kyungsoo thought that he could be just an idiot angel and...

And then Kyungsoo realized that who was being an idiot was himself. After all, that freak with whom he had talked to wasn't an angel. It was impossible he be an angel. Kyungsoo almost hit himself for have cogitated for a moment that that chitchat of angel was true.

He imputed his momentaneous confusion at the fact that the sun hitting against Kim Jongin's silhouette whilst he walked away was making he looks like a real angel, or if not an angel, at least something that came from Heaven and that have that celestial atmosphere.

It was just that. An optical illusion that made his mind be confused for a second.

And then the sun went away and everything got dark. The sun went away, Kim Jongin too and Kyungsoo stayed there alone, in the dark, having to come back alone by a path that he didn't know too well without something lighting the way.

He sighed, picked up his cell phone, the flashlight and cursed Kim Jongin as much as he could whilst he tried to find the way back to town.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

On the next day, Kyungsoo waited for Jongin at Blue Angel's Café, in downtown. It was a café very famous, so it wasn't difficult to find its location. A simple search on google and then Kyungsoo knew exactly what subway he had to take to get there as soon as possible. The place was very nice, with all the furniture in white color and the details in blue, probably to match with the name.

Most of the tables was occupied, but Kyungsoo manage to find one, in the corner, that was empty. He sat there and looked around. Kim Jongin was nowhere to be seen.

Kyungsoo sighed, already regretting for have accepted that crazy idea. He was glad that they agreed to meet in a place full of people, because, actually, Kyungsoo didn't know anything about Kim Jongin besides his name, his job of a postman and the fact that he probably had a mental disease.

Kyungsoo could not help thinking that engage in this type of situation wasn't compatible with his usual behavior. He usually dodged from complicated or potentially dangerous situations, so, on the previous night, when he laid in his bed and passed in his mind exactly what had happened at the open field where was the Heaven's mailbox, he realized how he had acted totally opposite of how he usually acted. He had spoken, yelled, hit and argued with a stranger and then, finally, he was yet a victim of a blackmail and accepted working with him. 

He was really not being his usual self yesterday.

And even less today, when he woke up and got dressed to go to the meeting with that lunatic stranger. He had considered to simply ignore Jongin and don't come to meet him at Blue Angel's Café. But then Kyungsoo looked to the little table beside his bed and saw a picture of him and Joonmyun, that had been took a little before the eldest of them pass away. They were so happy in the picture, smiling for the camera. That day everything seemed that would last forever and Kyungsoo indeed wanted it had. Fate, otherwise, had other plans for Joonmyun and took him from this world suddenly.

Kyungsoo didn't think that Joonmyun had cheated on him for real and that Zhang Yixing had written some kind of confession in the letter that was in Kim Jongin's possession. For a second on the previous day that thought had really passed through his mind, but, that morning, whilst he was looking to the picture of Joonmyun beside him, he realized that thought had been foolishness of his part. Kim Joonmyun would have never done such thing with him. He would have never done such thing with anyone. He was a person so kind, so pure, so innocent and that wanted only good things for everyone that, actually, he could be called an angel, and not the crazy blackmailer Kim Jongin.

But yet Kyungsoo had gotten very curious to know who was that Zhang Yixing. He had never heard about him, and however exists a lot of others Kim Joonmyuns around, Kyungsoo had a feeling that that letter was indeed addressed to his Kim Joonmyun.

So there was Kyungsoo, waiting Kim Jongin grace the place with his presence, only to know who was Zhang Yixing and to know what he had written.

Kyungsoo lost count of how many times he looked the time on his cell phone, checking it exactly each minute. After what seemed to be a millennium, but what was indeed only twenty minutes, Kyungsoo saw Jongin passing through the door of Blue Angel's Café. It seemed that he had run to get there, with his cheeks a little red, his hair messed, his chest up and down irregular, as if he was trying to recover his breath. He was dressed like in the previous day - jeans, white tshirt, a comfortable coat and a lightweight scarf.

Kyungsoo waved, so Jongin could see him.

"Sorry for my delay." Jongin said whilst he sat down. He settled his bag on the floor and put his hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeats. He then laughed and commented: "It was time that I didn't run so much."

Kyungsoo just looked at him and offered a half-hearted smile, without knowing how to answer that. Now that he wasn't angry at him anymore, it was strange to be in his presence and Kyungsoo simply didn't know much what to do.

"Have you ordered something?" Jongin asked, looking at the menu quickly.

"I haven't." Kyungsoo answered. He didn't even realized that had two menus on the table. He looked quickly to the one that was in front of him and saw that was the basic that every café usually served.

"You can order for me a hot chocolate." Jongin said whilst he closed the menu and reclined on the chair, seeming very relaxed.

Kyungsoo blinked and only after a moment he understood what Jongin was saying. "Do you want me to order for you? Why don't yourself go there to order?"

"Because Zhang Yixing's letter is in my ownership."

Kyungsoo sighed and counted to ten. He wouldn't get stressed that day. He had promised in front of Joonmyun's picture that he wouldn't get stressed and that he would only ignore anything that he thought offensive or simply silly that came out of Jongin's mouth.

Kyungsoo stood up and went to order in the counter, asking to a young lady that had written 'In training' on his working uniform. "Two hot chocolates, please." The lady wrote his order.

"Are you sure? If you order a large size the price is cheaper than ordering two small sizes." She said.

"No, I want two. Separated." Kyungsoo confirmed the order. He was never going to share a mug of hot chocolate with Kim Jongin. It was something that he used to do with Joonmyun, and thinking of doing the same with other person, even more with a person that was blackmailing him and that wasn't his boyfriend, made him feel at least strange.

He paid, picked up the two mugs and returned to the table. Jongin was now with a letter and a picture in his hands, analyzing them.

"Thank you." He said, picking up his mug and sipping the hot liquid. "Here it is. Our first job together."

Kyungsoo looked at the letter and the picture in front of him. The handwriting in the letter was bent, as if it was a kid's handwriting. The phrases utilized were very simple, lacking to them verbal regency, cohesion and coherence, but the content was very clear. A little girl, called Shin Minah, missed her little dog that had died just three months ago. The picture was of her, that didn't seem to be more than six years old, and of a little brown poodle dog in her arms.

"She says that she wants her little dog back." Kyungsoo said in a low voice, feeling a weird pinch in his heart whilst he read the letter. It wasn't painful reading the letter, but it was at least uncomfortable to see how a little girl so innocent had suffered so much with the lost of his little dog. Kyungsoo could imagine she above his table striving to write those words. The blots in the pink paper that she had used betrayed that some tears had fallen whilst she wrote.

Kyungsoo didn't want that that little girl on the picture suffered. Yet he was the kind of person that usually abstains of getting involved in others' life, he didn't stand to see or witness people suffering that way. This bothered him and made him feel a weird sensation in his guts. And perhaps blame, because most of the time he simply ignored a situation which someone was suffering and kept with his life as if he knew nothing about it. Joonmyun had even some time called him selfish, but Kyungsoo thought that he indeed didn't care much about it.

But yet, it was always bad witnessing someone's suffering.

And then Kyungsoo understood how Kim Jongin's role was difficult. It should be very hard for him to read all the letters of people suffering because they lost someone.

"This is so sad. Do you really read all these letters?" Kyungsoo asked, still not avoiding his eyes off the letter and picture of Shin Minah.

"Most of them. But I don't answer all of them." He passed his hand behind his neck. "It's hard to make all people's suffering because the loss of someone lessen."

"It's because of that that you insisted in my help?"

Jongin nodded and drank more of his hot chocolate.

"And how exactly do you answer the letters?" Kyungsoo asked and remembered to drink his own hot chocolate, even though he didn't feel any appetite or desire to eat anything.

"I do what I can. Sometimes just writing a letter back is enough. But other times it's needy a more elaborated plan. And other times I simply don't answer the letters because it's not necessary."

Kyungsoo was going to take the mug to his lips again but he stopped. "You didn't answer my letter." He said, without modifying his voice tone or something like that. In that moment he didn't want to get stressed with Kim Jongin. He wanted only to understand what he did and what was his method. "It was not worth an answer?" Kyungsoo looked to his hands that didn't withdrew of the mug sides, feeling a bit uncomfortable. It was bad that feeling of not being able to express what he felt for Joonmyun in a letter and that his feelings weren't worthy an answer. In deep, it made him feel as if his feelings weren't enough truthful.

"I just interpreted that the letter's sender would surmount Joonmyun's death with time. But even you being really insistent, I just thought that you'd be able to overcome his death without being necessary my intervention."

Kyungsoo returned his gaze to Jongin, his eyes full of expectation. "It's just that, right? Nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

Kyungsoo sighed relieved. At least today the postman wasn't undervaluing his feelings. And he was seeming more sincere whilst he answered, so Kyungsoo felt relieved and less judged.

"So..." Kyngsoo decided to change the subject. "What do you intent to do to answer this little girl's letter?"

Jongin put his hand under his chin, thoughtful. He looked at the sky through the window beside them, as if it was his ideas' inspiring source. Some time passed and he still didn't speak anything, but then Jongin clapped his hands once, as if he had just had a brilliant idea. He lowered himself to pick up his bag, retired from there a paper and a pen and extended t