The Higher Ups.

Theoretically, they run the Afterworld.

Except, not quite.

See, Death does not have a "Boss". It is its own being; it can rule over numerous other creatures, but there's no entity that can compare to its value. However, Death isn't as incontestable as one might think it is. The Scythe is what makes Death, "Death".

And it is the Scythe that chooses its owner. So, according to one of the first basic rules of the Afterworld, the current Grim Reaper could be replaced at any given time - it all depends on whether a successor has been spotted or not.

Taking this into consideration, one can't exactly say that Death does not require any kind of supervision; it does, and it is extremely important. And that's what the Higher Ups are for.

They're responsible for making sure the Grim Reaper is doing its job properly, and most importantly, for being ready to replace it as soon as possible. Which is the reason why most creatures see them as something to be feared, something that can control even Death itself.

Of course, Donghyuck does not agree.

Donghyuck has always been doing as he pleases, and he has been holding the spot of Death for centuries on end, with no one daring to question its methods.

Sure, the Higher Ups aren't all that crazy about him - they've been calling him reckless and "just a brat" for as long as he can remember, but that has never stopped him from being the best at what he does.

That's why even now, sitting right in front of all of them while they look down on him, he's not afraid.

"Death."

"That would be me."

"Do you know why you've been summoned?"

The Grim Reaper shakes its head, bony fingers busy trying to smooth out the folds in its robe. "I do not. If you could please enlighten me..."

The oldest member of the council, the one Death has recently started to enjoy calling "Taeil", is about to speak, when the one sitting next to him jumps in. "You've been slacking and you know it. Stop acting clueless."

"Ugh, what do you mean slacking? I told you, I've just been feeling a little under the weather. Can you really blame me? How many centuries has it been? I've always worked hard, I think it's about time I take it easy for a little!"

"Death is not allowed to take it easy." Doyoung glares at him, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest. He's never liked Donghyuck, and it shows.

"Oh come on... Recently it's been hard. I'm gonna get over it soon, alright? Jeez." And even though that's not the complete truth, it also isn't a mere lie. After all, Donghyuck truly has been feeling under the weather; but the real reason cannot be told.

Ever since he met Mark, he started seeing humans as more than just objects to collect; more than just blank souls. And maybe yes, that's why he feels so reluctant ending their lives. He loves humans, as much as he loves Mark. He can no longer stand the thought of destroying all that's been done by them, for all he can think of is the day it will be Mark's turn.

He can't look in the face of the dead without feeling guilt, without feeling like he's betraying his best friend.

But that, neither Mark nor the Higher Ups can know. Not yet.

Also, Donghyuck is not lying when he says "recently". It might not show, but five years aren't a long time in the Afterworld. Something along the lines of calling in sick from work for a couple days. Or at least, that's what he has come to understand after spending so much time in the world of the living.

The problem is, he won't get over it soon. He knows he won't. And that is so, so incredibly troubling.

"That's what we have always hoped for. But you've been making a fool out of us for long enough, don't you think?"

Death's head snaps up, something deep down starting to twist after hearing those words. "Huh?"

Jaehyun looks down on him for a few seconds, before shaking his head. "Earlier we couldn't find you. You had work to do, didn't you?"

"Yeah...? But I told you I wouldn't be able to make it, so-"

"So we sent someone to do it for you, yes. But, oh my. It appears the substitute we sent happened to see you. And when they told us where you had disappeared to, we almost couldn't believe it."

Now.

Now is when the Grim Reaper's body begins to stiffen.

Now is the moment Donghyuck realizes, something's wrong.

"What is that supposed to mean."

"We had our doubts. We aren't as naive as you paint us to be. And yet... We didn't expect confirmation to come so soon."

"I don't understand..."

"Death. You've been getting closer with a living human, haven't you?"

***

Mark bites his lip, as he begins washing two cups.

Two?

He doesn't remember anyone coming over that day. Nor the day before that.

Did he use both himself? When did he even make coffee?

The boy sighs, scratching his head, cursing under his breath after some of the soap gets in his eye.

That's not the first time it's happened. For quite some time now, every Monday he has been spotting tiny, almost irrelevant details being out of place. Details so minor they could easily go unnoticed; except they don't.

It's weird, really, and for some reason, Mark cannot find an explanation to any of these little misplacements.

Does his head have some kind of problem? Is his memory playing tricks on him?

"Dude, are you okay? You've been staring at the sink for like, ten minutes now."

Mark shakes his head, focusing back on reality. "Jeno, come here for a second."

"What's up?" Jeno arrives from behind, a can of soda in one hand and a snack stolen from Mark's fridge in the other. He never asked him to come over, but he's gotten used to the younger coming in and out of the apartment as he pleases.

"Did I make you coffee?"

"No? Why?"

Mark grunts in frustration, almost throwing the sponge on the counter. "I don't get it! I really don't. Where do these two cups come from? Who used them? I know I did because my breath smells like coffee but... What about the other? Huh? Hey, are you trying to pull a prank on me or something?"

Jeno scoffs, finishing his drink in one gulp. "What kinda lame prank would that be? I'm telling you, it wasn't me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! Seriously, is everything okay? You're acting weird and it's not even the first time."

Feeling defeated, Mark just motions Jeno to let it go.

It doesn't make any sense. Something's not right, he can feel it. But... what is it?

"Yeah, it's just... Ugh, it sounds so dumb, but every few Mondays I find some of my things in places I don't remember putting them, or even chairs being moved to different rooms, and like... I didn't do it, you know? I'm sure I didn't. But then... Who..."

There's a brief moment of silence, almost too heavy for Mark to feel comfortable.

Jeno is looking down to the ground, seemingly focused, fingers his chin, humming quietly every few seconds.

Then, his eyes grow wide, as if he has finally reached a conclusion. "Ah! I know!"

"Really?"

He nods, solemn. "Yeah. Must be old age."

"Seriously. off."

Jeno laughs, ignoring his friend's glare as he picks up his backpack from the kitchen table. "Come on! I'm sure it's nothing. Don't worry about it, okay? It's just a dumb cup." He says, starting to walk towards the front door.

"Whatever. I don't even know why I asked you of all people."

"You're no fun. Anyways, I'm going to pick up Jisung from school now. See you tomorrow for movie night!"

Mark doesn't reply, instead, he just hushes him to get out. He doesn't exactly know why, but he's feeling exhausted. Thinking about it, what did he do that morning?

He's about to get lost in another train of thoughts, when Jeno's head pops back in from the door. "Right, almost forgot. There's some weird note on your couch. I tried reading it but I couldn't really decipher the writing. Do you have a secret lover or something?"

"Ah?"

"Crap, I really have to go. You'll tell me all about it tomorrow! Bye for real now!"

After making sure Jeno's out of sight, Mark glances at the couch; and sure enough, there he finds a small, crumpled up note.

He doesn't recall ever putting it there. He doesn't recall anyone giving him a note to begin with.

But one thing's for sure.

As soon as his fingertips come in contact with the paper, something deep down begins to feel like it's burning.

And what's even more strange, his vision gets blurry; his eyes, teary.

"Who... Are you?"