The first time Jimin hesitated to inscribe a soul was when he met Jungkook.

He thought he was immune to death, or even apathetic. But Jungkook welcomed him with a wide smile over puffy cheeks and stole his breath away. 

“You’re finally here.” Jungkook spoke with such relief, like the worst was over. Jimin took a step back and shaded his surprise with a hand raised under his nose.

"Hardly anyone waits for me. Especially not a baby like you.”

“I’m not a baby.” 

“20 years of age still classifies you as a delinquent.”

“Dying is not a crime.”

“Suicide is.”

“Bull. Just do your job and take me wherever I’m supposed to go.”

“That’s not possible. You’re stuck here with me.”

“What?? Why?”

“My world. My rules.” Jimin shrugged. 

 

And just like that, Jimin gained a new assistant to help ferry lost souls to the underworld. 

 

Heaven did not exist in his books. Of course, there was an alternate dimension meant to represent Heaven, but it did not guarantee eternal peace and happiness. The concept of happiness could not exist without knowledge of pain. So, people in Heaven learnt to be content with daily reminders of an absence of pain.

 

Jimin liked to thread the fine line between pleasure and pain. And now, he had found a new friend to exercise this liberty with.

 

Truth is, Jimin was getting sick of ferrying souls to the underworld. His role was meant to represent a clean slate, a fresh start in the afterlife. But it was all such a lie. The afterlife didn’t bring any comfort or relief, contrary to what everyone seems to believe in. It was just an elevated existence focused on harnessing spiritual appetites, because noone lacked any material needs in the afterlife.

 

Jimin had to watch everyone die, before they all faded into this sedentary world of false blanket security. He needed a corrupt soul to make him feel again.

 

But because nothing lasts in his intermediary world, Jimin found himself shedding tears again when Jungkook freezes up four weeks later like a Roman statue with irises whitewashed of any signs of life, yet pert lips still cast in a look of disdain.

 

That was when Kim Taehyung first descended into his world. He came shrouded in a black cloak, dark hair, dark eyes, dark aura.

 

Clearing his throat to make his presence known, the God of Death spoke, "You're quite the troublemaker, you know?"

 

Jimin was busy trying to hide his tear-streaked face, and snapped in annoyance, " off. You're not supposed to be here."

 

Taehyung was not surprised his appearance required no introductions. His wardrobe adhered to a strict regime afterall, and blue flowers were always left in his trail. 

 

"You are affecting the Cycle of Death."

 

"Can't you just let me have one?" Jimin whispered wearily, his eyes dewy and imploring.

 

"I'm not here to bargain, Jimin."

 

"Then what do you want? Get it done, and ing leave me alone already."

 

Jimin was clearly not in the mood to be a good host to Taehyung, and he never needed to because noone ever stayed. Lowering his head over his knees, Jimin cried silent tears for noone to see.

 

Taehyung huffed a sigh and carefully crouched beside Jimin.

 

"What does he mean to you?"

 

Jimin was startled by the sensation of Taehyung's cool breath fanning over his hair, and in the process of inching away their noses brushed, causing Jimin's cheeks to turn scarlett.

 

"Go away." Jimin hissed.

 

"I'm giving you a chance to keep him, so you better start giving me answers."

 

Jimin's eyes widened and stared deeply into Taehyung's in a state of confusion, trying to ascertain the weight of his words.

 

Seeing that he had Jimin’s full attention, Taehyung continued. “We're going to play a game, and whether the outcome is desirable or not depends on how well you abide by my rules.”

 

"That sounds manipulative."

 

"Would you rather not play?"

 

Jimin was irked by Taehyung's confidence in having the upper hand. But the fact of the matter is, he had nothing to lose. There was no down side to this if either way, he was destined to be alone.

 

Might there be a tiny chance of changing that fate?

 

"What are the stakes?" 

 

"You have to hate me."

 

Taehyung said wistfully, studying Jimin's face up close and hoping to stir up some unease. Jimin on the other hand flashed a winsome smile.

 

"Well, that's easy." 

 

"Don't bet on it."

 

Taehyung frowned but seemed to recover quickly, reaching over to  Jimin's moist cheeks. "Don't go crying over me."

 

 

 

---

 

[ Author's Note ]

The plot hasn't fully formed in my head yet, so this is a bold move to strike while the words flow... I wish myself luck!