Byulyi watched by the seaside, camouflaging under the shades of the palm trees. Happy children skipped through the sands and played ‘touch-me-not’ with the slapping waves. Supervising adults also enjoyed themselves on the cottages. It seemed that the wind too was in favor of this merry day. It blew in the direction of the happy noise and the sea’s song. The sun was glowing strong.

She kept her hands to herself, crouching further like she would vanish through the act. Then, two pairs of feathery wings closed themselves on her. She started, before hugging them closer like a protective blanket.

The white wings were stained of dirt and mud. Branches and leaves clung like décor, and the feathers crumpled messily like a flustered skin. The overall white became a muddy gray.

.

.

“How is it?”

“It feels good, unnie,” Moonbyul purred, getting a giggle as reward. “Wah, you’re really good at massaging!”

“Aigoo, my moon baby,” she said, and Moonbyul blushed at the pet name. She already shivered under her touch, but it was too much. The effect this woman had on her was devastating. “You should learn by now that your wings are essentially a part of your body. When it gets hurt, you get hurt. When it feels good, t-then you too will.”

She slouched further in the chair. She heard the harrumph, and her heart soared in cheeky victory. Her smug face disappeared when she started rubbing the base of her wings. “Unnie!”

She couldn’t see her face, but she imagined it to be just as ethereal. She couldn’t even begin to describe such beauty. The whole scene felt so familiar, so right. She imagined her majestic wings closing in on her, her cheeks plump and blooming, the mole beside her eye just perfect, and her cinnamon-colored eyes warm and open. Her lily-white gown would hug her in the right places, and she would glow like she did as always.

But ever since the promotion, they rarely spent time like that, on each other’s arms, naive yet free from burdens and images. This time around, she wasn’t just her angel. She became everyone’s Promising Sunshine. Yongsun became Archangel Solar.

The scratching stopped.

“Hey, Byul-ah,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me one thing, okay,” she drawled. Byulyi leaned back enough to her unnie watching the gold fitted her finger. It doesn’t suit her, she thought bitterly. “Promise me you would take care of your wings, okay?”

Her wings subconsciously shifted. She wasn’t fond of them. It didn’t feel like they were hers. But,

‘For you,’ she thought morosely. “I promise.”

.

.

“Byulie-unnie, that’s where you are,” a voice from somewhere to the side called out. Her stomach began pricking. No sooner, foreign hands heaved her up like a lifeless doll. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Not yet,” she whined. She struggled and eventually got out of the grasp and back her into the sand.

It was Seulgi, a close confidante and friend; a messenger angel who glided there with her dainty robes and white smile. She didn’t continue her bothers, but the sinking feeling didn’t stop. Byulyi didn’t like the other angel’s pitiful glance on her. It was sickening. “It’s okay, unnie. You will move on from it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, thankful that the famish helped lessen the sharp tone. “I don’t want to back yet.” I don’t belong there.

“Okay,” Seulgi responded, her tone willy and full of contemplation. Her pure, white wings lowered as if in understanding, or was it resignation? Eventually, she sighed. “Well, what do you want to do, unnie? You said you wanted to be angel and you did. Now, I don’t—I don’t think…”

The first time Byulyi was brought to heaven, she was full of hope and promise. She was a paragon of what the heaven stood for. Her superiors were fond of her light, and she herself wasn’t unaware of her shine. She shined precisely because she had purpos