He takes a step past you. No, not this one.  Your eyes prickle, and for a moment it’s difficult to see before you’re blinking the tears away. Your throat tightens as you struggle for words.

Say something, anything. Convince him to stay.

He’s turning back to you now; a rectangular smile lights his face and he waves once. Thanks, he mouths. He straightens up and pretends to salute you, a gleam in his eyes as the sun shines out from behind him, threatening to engulf his figure. Thanks for everything.

You flinch and you return his smile as a familiar ache in your chest returns.

Say something, anything.

“Goodbye, Wonpil.”

Then he’s gone.

You spend the whole night on the hill you sent Wonpil off on. The stars flicker alive. There’s a worm of nostalgia that eats its way through your heart as the warm summer breeze brushes your hair and you flop onto your back. The grass engulfs you into a prickly hug.

As the stars waltz with each other, you breathe out a sigh as you’re reminded of the way Wonpil’s laughter used to interrupt the night’s silence during your late-night talks. The talking would last until your eyelids grew heavy and he would promise that he’d be there in the morning before tucking you in and sitting attentively by your bed. How you missed Wonpil’s presence and his friendship. You missed him.  

As soon as the sun comes peeking over the hill, Sungjin finds and settles beside you before breaking the silence.

“Why do you bother?” Sungjin’s tone is clipped and he means more to state a point than to understand, but you answer anyway.

 “I hate being alone.” You offer him a meek smile, but Sungjin blinks stoically, unimpressed.

“You’ve been a Reaper far longer than I have, but you still don’t understand what it means to be one.” You shrug, turning away. You’ve been reminded more than enough. “It means to live life alone. It means that you can’t get attached to things. It’s dangerous.”

“I know,” you sigh. Your fingers trace over the detailed tattoo of a sun on your right wrist. It glows slightly under your touch. You look up to find Sungjin watching you with narrowed eyes.

“People die. We don’t. Wanderers pass. We don’t.” He eyes you warily, “what made you think Wonpil was going to be different?”

“He’s my brother, Sungjin.” Your voice cracks, “I just needed some time.”

He gets onto his feet and tosses a package into your lap. “Stop caring.” He emphasizes the last word before turning and disappearing.

“Such a hypocrite,” you chuckle with a soft smile as you open the package and bite into the sandwich.