love is to die // warpaint

i let out a surprised laugh as xiumin pops another piece of candy into his mouth.

his image now is different than the long-haired and white robed ethereal being that had appeared earlier. from the clothes he and the woman from the vision had worn, i could guess he’s from early joseon dynasty. maybe even goryeo?

i take a peek in the mirror to my side, frowning at my reflection. instead of wearing a cool suit like the other reapers i was still in the t-shirt and black jeans i’d worn to the hotel.

“is it true that you really see me in a hanbok?” i ask, watching him from the mirror. he nods with the candy in his cheek like a chipmunk. “do i look pretty?”

xiumin chokes on the honey drop, slapping his chest as he coughs. i give a little victory smirk.

“that’s… inappropriate.”

“is it?” i ask innocently, smirk growing. “why, because i’m your apprentice?”

“yes!”

i can’t help but laugh at the indignation reddening his cheeks. for an otherworldly being from an ancient era, his buttons are surprisingly easy to push.

i reach out to take a honey drop from his palm, and he again flinches.

“are you scared of me touching you?” i ask, eyes sweeping over his features with a measured glance.

“i’m scared of wanting to know what you see.” his answer is frank. his eyes are heavy lidded.

my brows crunch together in concern as i withdraw my hand, placing the candy on my tongue. it’s sweet, but there’s also a somewhat acidic aftertaste.

the tips of my fingers tingle from where they had just barely ghosted across his skin. i’m starting to think i’ve been playing with fire.

it flashes once more briefly behind my eyes like a series of snapshots. the woman with the bloodsoaked hands. a horse’s war cry. the crackling of a thatched roof disappearing into flame.

a bleak, grey sky.

“how does a soul become a reaper? is it… a curse?”

“something like that,” xiumin sighs. his answers are always delightfully vague, but i wonder if that now has a purpose. “it’s said to be a way to appease restless souls, to give them purpose. atone for sins of our past life.”

our.

“you called me a shaman,” i remember suddenly, brows still furrowed. “but i couldn’t see or communicate with the dead until i met you?”

he shifts.

“it’s… a generalization.”

something in the polite tinge of shame on his face makes me think that it’s not a polite one, either.

i decide to let it slide, since it’s not like being called a shaman was ever the worst insult i’d been given. actually, it was never so much the words that hurt. it was the look in their eyes.

(not the anger. not the frustration. it’s the disbelief. they never believe me.)

i swallow away the lump in my throat, remembering our purpose in coming back to the human world. soon i won’t remember anything at all. i’ll be filled with peace.

just like joohyun.

“can i try the door thing?” my hand’s already poised on the doorknob as i look over my shoulder at xiumin.

“go ahead,” he waves his hand permissively.

i turn the knob and think: hospital.

i open the door. hospital, hospital, hospital.

the door cracks open to a crazed round of barks. i want to t