Time now to go

Lifespan of a Fly

They arrived in Kyoto on what felt like the most humid day of the year. From the moment they left the station, their skin developed a sheen of sweat, their clothes clinging to it in a decidedly uncomfortable way. Jinyoung’s hand slipped on the handle of a suitcase, and he quickly grabbed it before it could begin to roll down the hill they were now cresting on the way to their new apartment.

 

“This is not going to be an enjoyable day, I can tell,” Jinyoung said grimly, fanning himself with his free hand.

 

“Don’t decide that so quickly,” Mark said, lightly touching Jinyoung on his damp wrist. “You might be wrong. Time will say nothing but-”

 

“-I told you so,” Jinyoung finished for him, with a small smile. “All right, all right. Maybe it will be fine. Just insufferably hot. How are you holding up?”

 

“I’m fine,” Mark said, dabbing his forehead. “It brings back memories. Of California, Korea, Belize…”

 

“I spent six months in Sri Lanka, once,” Jinyoung said. “It was more humid than this, but that’s why I only lasted six months.”

 

“Let’s hope the two of us last a little bit longer in Kyoto than that.”

 

Jinyoung swallowed. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Let’s hope so.”

 

They found their new apartment on a quiet, narrow street, and wheeled their suitcases up to the front. Jinyoung punched in the entry code they had been given by their landlord, then opened the door when it clicked.

 

The apartment this time was small, a one bedroom/one bath with a kitchen squeezed in like an afterthought. There wasn’t too much character to it without any furnishings, just a blank slate of tatami mats and walls. Jinyoung exhaled. He felt somewhat distant to it in comparison to the places he’d lived with Mark before. He had nothing against Kyoto—in fact, he liked the traditional and serene spirit of it—but this time they didn’t really have the luxury of slowly putting their stamp on it until it felt like a home that was distinctly theirs. Knowing that the apartment would come unfurnished and he couldn’t just leave Mark to stand around or sit on the floor until they could pick out proper furniture, he’d just ordered basic pieces as he could find them online and scheduled their delivery for shortly after their arrival.

 

Mark reached out, lacing their fingers together. “It’s a nice place,” he said encouragingly.

 

“Yes,” Jinyoung said, very lightly putting the slightest pressure into Mark’s fingers. He’d used to squeeze his hands a lot in the past, but they felt so breakable now even in spite of all the strength they still lent to him. “I have some hand towels in my suitcase if you want to wash your face up. I’ll turn the AC on while we’re waiting for the furniture. That should help us cool off a bit.” He bit his lip. “And you should sit down. This all must be tiring.”

 

“Sit down where exactly?” Mark asked lightly. “The floor?”

 

“No,” Jinyoung said quickly. “Don’t do that.” Mark was no longer capable of getting to his feet in the easy way he’d used to. “There’s…the toilet?”

 

Mark laughed. “Sure. I’ll have a nice little relax on the toilet, kick up my heels, settle in.” He stood just slightly on his toes, kissing Jinyoung’s cheek. “You worry too much.”

 

“I always have.”

 

“I know. I’m not asking you to change it.” He kissed Jinyoung’s cheek again. “Won’t say no to those hand towels, though.”

 

Jinyoung let Mark use the bathroom first to wash up, then slipped in when Mark was finished. He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was matted, his skin looked oily, and his shirt was covered in damp marks. And as always, he looked stubbornly twenty-five in spite of how deeply he wished he could be eighty-five, the age he would have been if his meeting with Mark on the bus to the airport sixty years ago had been anyone else’s love story.

 

As he was finishing toweling off, he heard an electronic buzz. He quickly threw down the towel and jogged to the front room. A deliveryman in a green uniform showed on the camera screen of the intercom system. Jinyoung pressed the button. “Hello?”

 

“Hello, this is your scheduled delivery,” the man said.

 

“Just a moment.” Jinyoung went to open the front door. The man extended an electronic screen for him to sign, and Jinyoung dashed off his signature. He was Park Jinyoung again—Mark had insisted on it. I want to be able to call you that name all the time, he’d said. And though Jinyoung usually went at least a hundred years before reusing a name, he allowed it this time.

 

With his approval given, the deliveryman began carrying in big boxes of unassembled furniture into the apartment. It took several trips. Jinyoung offered to help, but the deliveryman declined. “You are our customer,” he said politely. “I will take care of it.”

 

Well, we’re definitely back in Asia, Jinyoung thought. It made him feel a kind of empty longing for Korea. He’d left it so many times in the past, but had never before missed it this much or as urgently.

 

Finally, all the boxes were inside and the deliveryman drove away. Jinyoung gazed upon his little empire of boxes—a chair was in one, a table for eating in another, and one showed a picture of a completed bed frame. It was most of what he’d ordered, minus a few assembled items that had yet to arrive—the mattress, a remote controlled armchair for Mark. It hadn’t hit him until now just how much it was, and how much time he’d have to spend putting it all together, reading instructions and turning screws and almost certainly making mistakes he’d have to undo. The extent of it overwhelmed him suddenly. He didn’t want to spend any time building furniture. He didn’t want to exhaust moments of his life into something that didn’t mean anything, making items that he would leave behind as surely as he left everything behind. He just wanted to exist in the space with Mark, with nothing else demanding his attention or time, but life didn’t work that way. Mark’s legs were probably tired. He needed to sit. Mark was surely exhausted. He needed the bedframe to be ready when the mattress arrived. There was so much to be done, but Jinyoung was feeling at the moment like he could barely breathe, much less get started.

 

“Jinyoung,” Mark said quietly. He navigated around the cluster of boxes, reaching out to press his hands against Jinyoung’s cheeks. He held his eyes, and there was something so gentle in the way Mark’s eyes looked at him that Jinyoung felt himself going still, the tension beginning to seep from his taut muscles. They breathed in and out together.

 

Stop breaking your own heart before it needs to be broken. Treasure this. Treasure every moment of this, even the moments you spend making furniture or cooking dinner or doing whatever small thing that goes into living your life.

 

“I’ll start on one of the chairs,” Mark said. “You start on the bedframe. We’ll do this together.”

 

“Yes,” Jinyoung said, smiling. He placed his hands over Mark’s. “Let’s make this home.”

 


 

After the hurdle of the first day was passed, Jinyoung and Mark acclimated with relative quickness to Kyoto. There were enough cultural similarities to Korea to make it feel familiar in ways, and they had learned enough of the language to be able to go shopping and eat at restaurants without too much difficulty. The neighbors were friendly, but not intrusive. They were happy to meet Mark and Jinyoung, who was introduced as his caregiver, but didn’t ask many questions. They could pass each other with a bow and a smile and a polite word, and that would be enough for everyone concerned.

 

As for Kyoto itself, Jinyoung was intrigued by it. There seemed to be a temple almost everywhere he went, and he even found a miniature one nestled in a median dividing a side street. Korea had its own share of temples, but the temples in Japan felt somehow different. They still had touches of the old gods within them, and even if people sometimes prayed to Buddha at there, others prayed to kami, the original gods that had been born from the land just as Jinyoung had.

 

It was a strange feeling. After what Mireuk had done to him, he’d hardened his heart in bitterness against the gods. He’d always felt that humans were better off without them, and were capable enough of ruling and managing themselves without relying on divine influence.

 

But looking around him, he couldn’t help but wonder if this society had reached a comfortable balance with its gods. Here, rituals of respect and worship were still made to the old gods, but they were in no way dependent on them. They went about their lives and made their own decisions, and though they drew fascination and sometimes comfort from the gods and spirits, they were not so blindly devoted and subservient as to surrender their own wills.

 

One afternoon in mid-autumn, Jinyoung suggested a visit to one of the shrines over breakfast. “I thought it would be nice to get out and stretch our legs,” he said. “The weather’s nice, but not so nice that there will be a crush of tourists.”

 

“You want to go to a shrine?” Mark asked, surprised. “I thought that wasn’t your thing?”

 

Jinyoung shrugged. “I married a religious studies major.”

 

“Do you know the Japanese gods? Have you met them? Are they all right?”

 

“I don’t know them well, but I did see Amaterasu once. Do you remember her from your studies?”

 

Mark nodded. “She’s the sun goddess.”

 

“She also had a bit of a feud with a god, her brother Susanoo, and banished him to the earth after they got into a competition with each other, like Mireuk did with me. They did reconcile, so he’s not cursed in the same way I am—he’s still a god, as far as I know. But legend has it that he took human lovers along with his divine consorts during his time on the earth, and there are those who carry on his bloodline to this day.”

 

“Interesting.” Mark leaned forward. “You know something, Jinyoung? I really regret sometimes that I haven’t picked your brain even more I already have. You’re truly fascinating.”

 

“Yes,” Jinyoung said with mock haughtiness. “You really should appreciate it more.”

 

“We’ve had plenty of conversations about the gods, but I’ve never thought to ask you about half-gods. They can exist, right? I mean, Greek mythology is full of them.”

 

“They can exist,” Jinyoung acknowledged. “In the beginning, sometimes gods and goddesses would consort with humans. It was thought of as almost a favor to the humans, to introduce god-blood to their bloodlines in hopes of making offspring that could serve as proper rulers in the different regions. It’s why so many civilizations believed their kings and queens were blessed by the gods. Because in a sense, they were.”

 

“So…did the god-blood actually help?”

 

Jinyoung shook his head. “Not really. Some had faint powers from it. Several enjoyed extended lifespans—living to their 110s, though not much beyond. Most just became egotistical despots who felt themselves deserving of worship of their own. The gods didn’t like that, and they haven’t really mixed with humans since.”

 

“So, let’s say you and I were able to have children,” Mark said. “What would have resulted from that, do you think?”

 

“Not a half-god,” Jinyoung said. “Probably just a normal human, I’d expect.” He looked at Mark curiously. “You’ve never mentioned children before.”

 

“It would have been a hassle,” Mark said. “Having to uproot them all the time, having to keep them away from their grandparents…having you lose them.” He paused. “I never really wanted children. But for some reason…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I miss having grandchildren.”

 

Jinyoung snorted. “You’re such an old man.”

 

Mark grinned. “No one knows it better than me.” He glanced out the window. “You know what? It is a nice day. Let’s go to a shrine. Teach me a little history, and I’ll see what I can remember from my own studies. It’ll be a treat.”

 

So after breakfast, Jinyoung helped Mark into his windbreaker and walking shoes, and the two of them took the bus to the Gion District. Fushimi-Inari was the most famous shrine in Kyoto that Jinyoung knew of, but he was more curious to see Susanoo’s shrine, Yasaka-jinja. He felt in some way connected to Susanoo, given their shared banishment to the human world. At the same time, Susanoo had never lost his godhood and by all accounts had spent his time on the earth enjoying the kind of adventures a powerful god could get himself into without having to wrestle with the kind of issues Jinyoung had been left to cope with. Maybe there wasn’t really a connection to be made there after all. He’d have to see for himself.

 

The arrived at the bus stop and walked the rest of the way to the entrance of the shrine grounds. Up the stairs was the main gate, a set of red and white buildings with curved roofs and blue-green gates. Jinyoung took Mark’s arm and slowly helped him up the stairs, studying the building closely as they ascended. It was undeniably pretty to look at, but nothing really lept out at him as being particularly interesting. It was just a shrine like any other shrine, to him.

 

Mark looked far more excited. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “What a construction!”

 

“If you like it, we should visit some of the others in the area while we’re out,” Jinyoung said.

 

“I wouldn’t mind.”

 

“Just as long as you tell me when you start to get tired.”

 

Mark rolled his eyes. “Just watch you get tired and want to go home before me.”

 

“I’d be cautious about getting into a competition with me. I have a habit of winning. And cheating.”

 

“What about this Susanoo character? Did he cheat in his competition with Amaterasu?”

 

“There are different ways of telling the story, but most have the two deities chewing up an object and spitting out…er…minor deities.”

 

“Charming. I see your suggestion of blooming flowers was quite tame.”

 

“Like I said, there are different versions of the story out there, but in the one I heard, Susanoo actually won and birthed more deities than Amaterasu. But he was such a sore winner about it that he ‘celebrated’ by destroying rice fields blessed by Amaterasu, defecating in her holy palace, and…flaying a pony and throwing it at her stuff?”

 

Mark blinked. “What the hell?”

 

Jinyoung shrugged. He was beyond attempting to justify the behavior of a god. “It royally pissed off Amaterasu, and she plunged the region into darkness. The other gods eventually talked her down from her anger, but she still banished Susanoo in punishment.”

 

“Sounds like he deserved it far more than you.”

 

“And yet his punishment was less severe than mine. Interesting how that is.”

 

After admiring the main gate for awhile longer, Mark finally indicated that he was ready to pass through and see some of the rest of the grounds. In front of a pavilion hung with lanterns, a young woman in white and red robes was sweeping the ground with a straw broom.

 

“That’s a miko, right?” Mark asked. “A shrine maiden? I remember reading about them.”

 

Jinyoung nodded. As if she had overheard them talking about her, the miko’s head suddenly shot up, and she fixed them in her gaze. She had a very unnerving stare, solemn and intense in a way you wouldn’t expect from someone so young. Jinyoung looked away, wondering if it had been rude of them to notice and comment on her.

 

He was just about to steer Mark in another direction when the young woman approached them, still holding on to her broom. “I will teach you about the temples, sirs,” she said in a formal voice. “Follow me.”

 

“Oh, that won’t be necess-” Jinyoung started to say, but the young woman had already begun to walk forward.

 

Mark shrugged. “This is probably her job,” he whispered. “Let’s just go with her.”

 

The miko didn’t say anything as they walked, even as they passed buildings Jinyoung assumed were of both religious and historical significance. She only stopped when they were at a remote corner of the grounds, away from the other tourists and visitors. Unexpectedly, as soon as she turned back to look at them, she dropped into a bow.

 

“We meet at last,” she said. “Lord Seokga.”

 

Jinyoung nearly choked in surprise at the sound of this name. “W-What?”

 

The miko rose, looking him in the eye. “I know of you,” she said. “My many-great-grandfather told me of you years ago. I called him a fool for getting himself banished, and he protested that he wasn’t the only one. That of all the banished gods, Lord Seokga was the one most to be pitied for having his godhood denied along with his place in the heavens. He said that even now Lord Seokga wanders the earth, and that one day he might come to Japan and I might see him for myself.” She nodded to Jinyoung. “And now I see you for myself.”

 

Jinyoung was struck speechless, and so, as it seemed, was Mark. The young woman stared back and forth between the two of them with interest, but didn’t say anything further.

 

“How-” Jinyoung started to say after a moment.

 

This seemed to be the cue the young lady was looking for. “How did I recognize you? Your eyes are very similar to great-grandfather’s. They are knowing eyes. Although great-grandfather’s eyes are very smug-knowing, and yours are very conflicted-knowing. Also, I have an eye for the divine.” She pointed to her left eye. “It’s not like you have a blatant glow to you or anything, but there’s a noticeable difference between you and any other person. I knew what you were from the moment I looked at you.”

 

“Could you catch me up with you for a moment?” Jinyoung sputtered. “Who exactly are you?”

 

“Oh, yes, of course.” The young woman cleared . “I am Inada Mayumi. I am the descendant of Lord Susanoo, god of seas and storms. I am from Shimane, where my parents each serve the different shrines dedicated to Lord Susanoo there. I was sent to Kyoto to serve his shrine here. I only agreed because I thought maybe Lord Susanoo would not bother me so much far away from his point of origin, but it was an incorrect assumption. He still lives to annoy me.”

 

“He annoys you,” Jinyoung repeated, at a loss for anything more coherent to say.

 

“Oh, yes, very much. He is far too pleased with himself, though his glory days are long passed. And since there’s absolutely no use for him anymore, all he has to entertain himself is sticking his nose in my business. Every other second, he’s popping up saying, Mayumi, when are you going to do something heroic with the legacy of my blood? and Mayumi, why are you taking so long to get married? The bloodline isn’t going to carry on itself, you know?” Mayumi folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve told him that I’m never going to get married and have any babies. That the needs of the flesh are beyond me, and I wouldn’t shed a tear if I died a . I’m going to quit being a miko after I get my medical degree, and his bloodline will end with me, and he’ll have to return to the earth then, with all his precious descendants gone. That is my plan, and I’m prepared to play a very long game if I have to.”

 

“Ah.” Jinyoung put this all together in his head. “So…if I’m following correctly…you’re descended from god-blood, but you can’t stand your divine ancestor, so you’re eager to return his spirit to the earth again…right?”

 

Mayumi nodded vigorously. “He’s truly awful. Do you want to meet him? I can summon him, unfortunately. I just can’t seem to banish him, even though being banished is his whole backstory.”

 

Jinyoung glanced at Mark, who’d tensed beside him momentarily. “No, thank you. I’d rather not involve myself with gods at the moment.”

 

“It worries your lover,” Mayumi said, nodding at Mark. “I understand. The more gods interfere with things, the worse they get. You two want to protect each other.”

 

“Lover?” Jinyoung repeated. “What makes you think he’s my lover and not…the person I'm the caregiver of?”

 

Mayumi waved her hand. “Who else would be so calm during this conversation but a lover you had shared your secret with? Besides, why would he need a caregiver? He seems perfectly healthy to me. Healthy elders who are independent, without serious chronic conditions, and are fully mobile don’t usually require hired caregivers.”

 

Mark looked impressed. “I did warn Jinyoung that cover story was far from perfect.”

 

“It’s better than nothing!” Jinyoung protested. “So, Inada-san, you seem to know a lot about what’s going on in the heavens, thanks to Susanoo.”

 

“Call me Mayumi, please. I would never presume to have a foreign deity, even a former one, call me by honorifics.” She lifted her chin. “But yes, I know everything about what’s going on in the heavens of my country because Great-grandfather Susanoo is a blabbermouth and tells me everything.”

 

Jinyoung smiled faintly. “And you know about the gods’ capabilities of returning their spirits to the earth?”

 

“Of course I do.” She suddenly clapped a hand over . “Oh, but there’s probably so much that’s been happening that you don’t know since you’re banned from the heavens, yes? I should tell you! But not here. It is easy for Lord Susanoo to appear here, and you don’t want to meet him, and I don’t want him to stick his nose in. How about you come to my apartment tomorrow? I will make you tea, and we will talk some more behind great-grandfather’s back!”

 

“Sounds delightful,” Mark said pleasantly.

 

“Yes, we can come for tea,” Jinyoung agreed. He was desperate for whatever information she had. “Just point us in the right direction.”

 

The next day, they went to a little studio apartment not far from their own place in the city. The cramped place was crowded with text books and notebooks, half of which seemed dedicated to medical degree, half of which were filled with the names of gods. The name of some certain gods were crossed out, and others were annotated in neat script (“wants to relive his glory days as a warrior one last time. Try to avoid that involving an actual battle”).

 

“Sorry for the mess,” Mayumi said, kicking some notebooks under a table. “I could probably make the effort to be a cleaner person, but I don’t care to.”

 

“Very relatable,” Mark said.

 

“Here.” She plunked a fold out chair down in front of Mark. “Please sit here, grandfather. I usually dump all my clothes on this chair, but I cleared it off for you.”

 

“Thank you very much, Mayumi.” Jinyoung helped Mark take a seat. There was nowhere else in the room to sit but the bed, so Jinyoung instead knelt beside Mark. Mark, out of habit, took his hand and rested it on his thigh.

 

“So you’re in med school, Mayumi?” Mark asked. Mayumi was now in the nearby kitchenette, setting a tea kettle to boil.

 

She nodded. “My goal is to be one of those humanitarian doctors. I want to care for people in the wake of disasters.”

 

Mark’s eyes lit up. “I used to be a relief aid worker.”

 

“Is that so? That does make perfect sense.” She lifted her finger suddenly. “If you worked in relief aid, you must have noticed the irregular fluctuation in natural disasters.”

 

Mark nodded. “That was about twenty-five years ago, if I’m remembering. I know Japan was hit hard.”

 

“I wasn’t born yet. But my mother told me about it. There was practically a disaster every week. An earthquake one Tuesday and a typhoon the next.” Her eyes flickered to Jinyoung. “You know why, Lord Seokga?”

 

“The land is dying,” Jinyoung answered grimly.

 

“Yes. The land is dying. But not just that.”  She looked back at Mark. “Grandfather, you have lived long and well, and your body is getting tired. If I removed your left arm and your left leg and pushed you, what do you think would happen?”

 

Mark blinked. “I’d fall over. Given my age, I probably wouldn’t be able to get up, either.”

 

“Yes. There are two things at fault for that. One would be me pushing you. The other would be the instability caused by your missing pieces.” She turned back to Jinyoung. “The gods are the earth’s missing pieces. Humans are pushing the land past its breaking point, yes. But with its spirit scattered and many of those spirits turned cruel and uncaring in the form of gods, the earth cannot stabilize itself and hold its ground against the constant pushing. It can only fall. Some of the gods recognized this. That humans had no real need of them as gods. That it was time to return their spirits and stabilize the earth.”

 

Jinyoung nodded. “Yes. That happened to one of the gods of Korea. Grandmother Samsin.”

 

“Your country’s gods began returning to the land sooner than ours did. Ours still believed they were needed. But when the disasters started getting bad twenty-five years ago, that’s when some of the lesser deities started returning to the earth. There was an immediate effect. The disasters became a little less frequent. So some of the major deities decided to return to the earth as well. Even Amaterasu. To her, it was more important to save the humans than stick around and occasionally influence their lives here and there.” She rolled her eyes. “But stupid great-grandfather thinks now that Amaterasu and the others are gone, it’s one big party! Do what he wants! Bother his human descendants and harp on them for not being monster-slaying warriors! But if a greater disaster should befall humanity while the earth is still unstable thanks to the gods who won’t return, so many will die! The earth itself might perish for good! I don’t want that to happen just because of the idiot gods who refuse to give up their power!”

 

The tea kettle started whistling, and Mayumi scurried over to the kitchen to take it off the stove. Mark looked down at Jinyoung, his hand.

 

“Mireuk’s never going to return to the earth,” Jinyoung said quietly. “Even if the earth dies for it. He won’t go anywhere until he feels he’s won over me.”

 

Mark nodded sadly.

 

“So what am I supposed to do? Grovel at his feet? Give him whatever he wants?”

 

“Of course not.”

 

“But what if doing that is what it means to save the earth?”

 

“Then I wonder why you should feel obligated to save a way of the world that forces you to give up everything you are and believe in.” He ran his thumb against the back of Jinyoung’s hand. “Remember what Mayumi said. There are two causes of the collapse. The instability caused by the gods. And the push delivered by the humans.” Mark lowered his voice. “You are the God of Humanity. Who do you think it’s more in your power to help?”

 

Before Jinyoung could really think on this, Mayumi returned with a tray of old tea cups. All three of them were chipped at the rim. “They got damaged when I moved to Kyoto,” she explained. “I’m sorry to be such a terrible host.”

 

“Not at all!” Mark said. “We’re honored that you would invite us.”

 

“Would you mind if I asked you something, Mayumi?” Jinyoung asked.

 

Mayumi poured his cup full of green tea and handed it to him. “You may ask me whatever you please, Lord Seokga.”

 

“I noticed you had lists of all the gods. Lists like I used to have, full of bookstores where I could find books with my name in them, and…”

 

“Burn them,” Mayumi finished for him. “Yes. That is your task. The task I’ve given myself is using what I know from my great-grandfather to figure out which gods still remain in the heavens and how I can get them to return to the earth.”

 

“You really mean to do so, then?”

 

She nodded. “I can easily see and communicate with gods. I know things about them that other humans do not. If I follow the disasters as a doctor, it will take me to the most unstable regions where I can both help the people who are hurting and try not negotiate with their gods.” She grabbed one of the lists she’d kicked under the table. “I’ve been taking notes for years now. Ever since I was in high school. I think I’ll have enough to get started when I graduate.”

 

“And what do your notes on Mireuk say?”

 

Mayumi flipped through pages of the notebook and handed it to Jinyoung. Most of the page was covered in crossed out names. Samsin, Chilseong, Cheollyung, Josang, Mujosin. All had returned to the earth. The only name not crossed out was Mireuk’s.

 

Beside his name, Mayumi had left an annotation. His fate is tied to Seokga’s, it read. Mireuk will only surrender to the earth in victory or defeat. But it will not be his choice to make. Or mine. Seokga will be the one to choose for himself. What will be will be.

 


 

After that, Mayumi became a regular fixture in their lives. Jinyoung enjoyed talking to her; in many ways, she reminded him of himself. They both shared a similar vision and purpose, and through her regular complaints about her meddlesome great-grandfather Susanoo, Jinyoung received the glimpses he needed into the heavens to have a better sense of what it had become in his absence.

 

But to his surprise, Mark took to Mayumi even more than he did. Perhaps it was the longing for grandchildren he’d mentioned, since he doted on her like he might have his own flesh and blood. Maybe it was her similarities to Jinyoung that helped him understand her better, but whatever it was, he seemed to grasp her in the ways the adults in her life didn’t. He was patient with her when she railed against her parents’ lack of support for her decisions, and offered her advice on staying true to herself while also not burning bridges with the only family she had.

 

Jinyoung began to notice that sometimes Mayumi came over while he was out shopping for groceries or running errands, and he’d return to the apartment to find her in a huddle at the dinner table with Mark, a mess of papers spread out between them. Whenever Jinyoung came home, they’d sweep up the documents before Jinyoung could see them under the guise of clearing off the table for him to set down the grocery bags. He’d ask what they were doing, but they’d simply say Mark was helping her with schoolwork and then change the subject.

 

Jinyoung wondered first if Mark had taken it upon himself to help Mayumi out with her task and for whatever reason didn’t want to Jinyoung to know about it. But Jinyoung was certain Mark would tell him; the gods were something they were in mutual agreement about involving themselves in only with the utmost caution.

 

This then left Jinyoung to wonder if maybe they were discussing medical symptoms, and that Mark was trying to hide suspicions of a condition from him. The moment this thought rooted in his mind, he struggled to get it out. He knew Mark might do something along those lines if he wanted to keep Jinyoung from worrying. Because Jinyoung went to all his doctor’s appointments with him, having an off the record conversation with someone in the medical field would be the only way to keep it a secret from him.

 

Jinyoung spent the next few days quietly observing Mark. He seemed about the same as usual, but the little things Jinyoung had never thought much of before now seemed far more worrisome. Was that a hint of rasp in his voice? Didn’t his joints seem stiffer than usual? Was that little cough here and there something far more serious than it sounded?

 

It began to make him so worried that he barely got any sleep. Finally, he broke down and decided to visit Mayumi’s apartment, hoping he might be able to convince her to tell him what she knew.

 

Jinyoung lifted up a plastic container of leftovers when Mayumi opened the door. “I had some extra kimchi-jjigae I thought I’d share with you since you’re so busy with exams,” he said.

 

Mayumi accepted the container. “Thank you, Lord Seokga, but that’s not why you are here.” She gestured him inside. “You are probably worried that Grandfather Mark is sick, is that right?”

 

Jinyoung looked at her in surprise. “How did you know?”

 

“My great-grandfather prides himself so much on knowing everything. So I make it my business to know everything first, so he can never surprise me.” She set the jjigae on the counter. “Grandfather is healthy, at least as far as I can tell. He’s also not involving himself in my work with the gods.”

 

“Then…” Jinyoung swallowed, not wanted to be too intrusive. “Am I allowed to know what you two are doing?”

 

Mayumi considered. “He would rather you didn’t know, and I won’t share all the details with you. But he came to me a few months ago with questions about the afterlife.”

 

Jinyoung hadn’t been expecting this in the slightest. “But he and I have talked about the afterlife before,” Jinyoung protested. “He knows what it is.”

 

“And what did you tell him it was?”

 

“Nourishing the earth with your body.”

 

“And what did you tell him would happen to his consciousness?”

 

Jinyoung shifted his weight uncertainly. “I…I don’t know. That’s the land’s domain, not the gods’. I’ve always thought it would be eternal rest. Unknowingness.”

 

“Rest is not the same as unknowingness, Lord Seokga. Maybe the minds and souls of the departed join the collective conscious of the land. Their memories and emotions and will become a part of the land’s awareness.”

 

“Do you know this for a fact?”

 

Mayumi shook her head. “How could I? I have never died. You have never died. How are either of us to know? That is what I said to Grandfather. That you would have given him the whole and complete answer if you knew, because you love him so much.”

 

Because I love you more than I can say, if I could tell you I would let you know,” Jinyoung quoted softly.

 

“That’s just what Grandfather said,” Mayumi said. “He said he learned a little more about the words of that poem every day he lived.”

 

It took Jinyoung a moment to steady himself enough to speak. “So if you didn’t have answers for him, why do you two seem to be planning something?”

 

“Because the heart of him asking me for answers was you. He wanted to know if there was any part of his consciousness that would remain to watch over you when he passed. I told him that even if we do not know that answer, there are still things he can do both for you and himself while his body still lives.” Mayumi gazed at him solemnly. “So I am helping him put his affairs in order.”

 

“But…” Jinyoung’s throat felt dry. “Doesn’t that have to go through a lawyer?”

 

“Lord Seokga, everything on your Japanese residence card is a lie. Why do you care about Grandfather’s wishes going through a lawyer?”

 

“I don’t. Not exactly. But…I just don’t feel like I need to inherit his money.”

 

“There is more to putting affairs in order than money, Lord Seokga. One day, you will see.” Mayumi’s expression softened. “I hope that day will be long in coming.”

 

“But Mark doesn’t want me to know everything ahead of time, then?”

 

“He does not wish you to dwell on death when there is life to be lived.” Mayumi’s voice trembled a little, which was a bit unexpected giving her usual collectedness. “You most likely can’t see it clearly through your own worry for him, Lord Seokga. But Grandfather worries so deeply for you. He does not want to leave you sad and lonely and vulnerable. He does not want Mireuk to use his passing to hurt you. He is frightened, just as you are frightened, but he does not want to spend a second living in fear when he so dearly wants to devote everything he has left to happiness with you.”

 

Jinyoung pressed his hand over his heart, practically feeling its aching burning into his chest. “I don’t want him to worry about me,” he said in a cracking voice. “I want him to be happy, too.”

 

“Then show him you understand,” Mayumi said simply. “That you learned from what loving him taught you. That you won’t lose yourself when there’s still so far left to go. Show him that, Lord Seokga. Grandfather has had to make difficult decisions out of love for you. You must be ready to do the same.”

 


 

That evening, Jinyoung watched as Mark got into bed, settling against his collection of pillows. Even though it was dark and hard to see him through only a slight bit of moonlight and the red glow of the digital clock, Jinyoung knew every inch of him, and could fill in all the blanks of what he couldn’t see. And yet, he reminded himself, there was still so much of Mark that he couldn’t completely unravel. They were two different people; they could never understand each other with perfect clarity, even if they had hundreds of lifetimes to do so. And though there was a kind of sadness in accepting that, there was something beautiful and humbling in knowing that he could never truly assume that he knew everything there was to know about Mark.

 

Mark glanced towards him, noticing him staring. “What?” he asked self-consciously. “Do I have toothpaste on my face?”

 

“No.” Jinyoung slipped into bed beside him, continuing to look into his face. “I was just remembering something from a few years ago.”

 

“Yes?”

 

I want you to really look at me, you said. And I’m still looking at you.”

 

The corners of Mark’s lips twitched. “That was more than a few years ago, Jinyoung. I was just a kid compared to now.”

 

“But you knew so much more than me. And you were right.” He drew his thumb underneath Mark’s eye. “Maybe it shouldn’t have taken me so long to open my eyes. But I’m glad you were the first one I saw. And I’ll always have that. Everything I see has been colored by you.”

 

Mark was quiet for a moment, gazing back at him. “Remember when we first met all those years ago? On the bus to LAX?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?”

 

“Wasn’t it something along the lines of ‘here’s someone going to Korea who I can pester for help’?”

 

“Well, yes. But before I talk to anyone, I usually try to get an impression. I don’t usually like talking to strangers, so I want to be…I don’t know…sure of them?...before I start talking.”

 

“I can’t imagine what kind of first impression you’d have of me other than ‘solitary’ and ‘hostile.’”

 

Mark reached out, gently touching Jinyoung’s cheek. “But it was something different. The first time I looked at you I thought, How is it possible without any tears or words for a person to convey so much sadness?” He gazed at Jinyoung with a tenderness that was almost heartrending. “It was only for a moment. Your eyes hardened after that, and you went cold and indifferent, and I’d thought I’d been wrong in what I’d seen in you. I pushed it to the side and focused on getting the help I needed, which is why I’d talked to you in the first place. But in other moments, I saw it again. This consuming kind of sadness and emptiness. This wall of ice surrounding your heart.” Mark’s eyes dampened. “Even then, I just couldn’t leave you alone. I couldn’t. I had to believe there was a joy for that sorrow, both for you and for me. That there was a reason the universe had brought our two lonely lives together. I don’t care if it wasn’t fate. The reason was you made me happy. And every day, even the days when you were desperate to put your defenses back up, I got to see you become happier, too. Your joy has become the greatest gift of my life.” His voice dropped lower, trembling. “Please, don’t ever lose it, Jinyoung.”

 

Jinyoung couldn’t answer to this through his tears. He took Mark’s hand and pressed his lips against his fingertips, then held it against his heart. How is it possible, he wondered, with so many tears in my eyes to be this happy? But joy and sorrow so often walked hand in hand, and he could not let go completely of one without letting go of the other. He had to accept both. He had to keep choosing both, even when he was afraid of the pain sorrow would afflict upon his heart.

 

“I would never lose a single thing given to me by you,” Jinyoung whispered when he was able. “What you have given to me, I’ll carry with me always. Always.

 

Mark made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and reached out to pull Jinyoung closer. Their kiss was incredibly wet, like their first two, but was perfect for that exact reason. Jinyoung kissed him until he could barely breathe, to where it felt like his heart might stop, but the tears never ceased falling.

 


 

Jinyoung could tell Mark was agitated. He’d never been the type of person to brood in place of coming out with how he was feeling, so it was easily noticeable. He played with his breakfast and kept snapping and unsnapping the battery cover on the remote all throughout the news, even when Jinyoung politely asked him to stop.

 

“What is it?” Jinyoung asked, not sure whether to be exasperated or worried or a little bit of both.

 

“Nothing,” Mark said.

 

“It’s not nothing. Please don’t try that with me.” He got up from his chair to kneel in front of Mark’s, taking his hands. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

Mark exhaled, biting his lip a little before finally meeting Jinyoung’s eyes. “You’re not going to want to agree with this,” he said.

 

“It depends. Skydiving is a no, but I might be convinced to let you get a new piercing.”

 

“This is serious.”

 

Jinyoung tensed. “All right, then. Tell me what you have in mind.”

 

“I want to go back to Korea. To the house in Inje.”

 

Jinyoung froze. “But we can’t.”

 

“I know that. I know we’ve only been in Kyoto a little over six years. And that there are still people in Korea who could potentially recognize or remember you. But I want to go back.”

 

“I understand that, Mark. I miss it, too. But-”

 

“I need to go back, Jinyoung. It’s where I need to be…it’s where I want to be when I die.”

 

Jinyoung’s eyes flooded with tears. “Don’t say that.”

 

“How else can I say it? It’s true. I don’t want to be buried here. I want to go home.”

 

“It’s just…it’s just such a risk.”

 

“I know that. That’s why I’ve wrestled so much with having to ask you this. But there’s no choice. I need to be there. And I don’t want to go there without you with me.” He squeezed Jinyoung’s hands. “Please, Jinyoung.”

 

“Is there a reason why you’re asking me this now? Are you sick?”

 

Mark shook his head. “I didn’t want to put it off any longer. In case.”

 

Jinyoung took a deep and steadying breath. He knew he should have seen this request coming. This was probably one of the things he’d decided on his discussions with Mayumi about getting his affairs in order. And it made sense. As much as they liked Kyoto, why would Mark want to be buried in a place he’d only spent six years of his life?

 

“We’ll have to be very careful,” Jinyoung said finally.

 

Mark exhaled his pent up breath. “I promise. I promise it will be fine, Jinyoung.”

 

That evening, Mayumi came over and Jinyoung told her what Mark had said to him. “So it’s time then,” she said solemnly. “I will come with you.”

 

“What? You only just finished your PhD. Don’t uproot yourself. Besides, we don’t even know how many years it will be…that we’ll be there.”

 

Mayumi just shook her head. “I will come with you,” she said again. “I can help take care of Grandfather, if he needs it. And you shouldn’t be alone when he's gone.”

 

Jinyoung didn’t like thinking of it, but knew she was right. He nodded his assent, and Mayumi told him she would take care of the arrangements so he could focus on getting Mark ready to move.

 

A month later, they touched down in the Yangyang Airport in yet another version of Korea that had arisen in their absence. Even parts of the landscape had altered, and when they took the train into Inje, it was immediately clear that more buildings had been squished into Jinyoung’s little solitary paradise. All the same, it was undeniably a homecoming, a markedly different experience for them than it was for Mayumi, who had never been to this region before.

 

Both Jinyoung and Mark cried when they reached the house, still standing unchanged amongst all the newness. Jinyoung slid open the door, and there it all was. The entryway with its empty shoe rack and umbrella stand. The hallway, the sitting room with Mark’s old couch covered in a protective blanket. The glass doors looking out into the backyard. The walls that had once been buried in lists.

 

Mark turned to Jinyoung, wrapping his arms around him. Mayumi ducked into the kitchen to give them some privacy.

 

“Thank you,” Mark said in a shaky voice. “Thank you for taking me home.”

 

“I’m happy to be here, too,” Jinyoung said, blinking his eyes clear of tears. “I’m glad I could see it again. With you.”

 

He meant it, too, even though their reasons for coming back still weighed on him. He had always been afraid of the thought of having to come back one day alone, and wondered if he’d ever be able to come back at all, or if it would hurt too much. It felt easier with Mark at his side to share in the emotions, whether purely joyous or bittersweet.

 

“You always come back here on the start of a new journey,” Mark whispered into his ear. “I wanted to be there again. At the beginning.”

 

Jinyoung held him tighter, burying his face in his neck. There was nothing he could say but “thank you,” but he said it was many times as his voice would allow him.

 


 

Five months after they returned to Inje, just a week after his 87th birthday, Mark caught a summer cold.

 

“Should we take him to the doctor’s?” Jinyoung asked anxiously.

 

“There’s no cure for the cold,” Mayumi said. “He needs rest. We have well-stocked medicine cabinets. And if it should necessitate a doctor, I am one.”

 

The first few days, Mark seemed well enough, just fatigued and plagued by phlegmy coughs, like he usually was when he developed a cold. But by the next day, it was clear there was something wrong with his breathing.

 

“It’s pneumonia,” Mayumi said grimly. “We’re going to need to get him on antibiotics right away.”

 

“We need to get him to a hospital.”

 

“No,” Mayumi said shortly.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“He won’t go.”

 

“Are you serious? You’re a doctor, you should know that the mortality rate for pneumonia shoots up after the age of sixty-five!”

 

“I know that.” Mayumi looked at Jinyoung firmly. “I’m sorry. He specifically requested not to go to the hospital.”

 

“You don’t have to listen to him. Isn’t it unethical to deny him treatment?”

 

“I’m not going to deny him treatment. I am going to do everything within my power, starting with the antibiotics. But we’re not taking him to the hospital.” She took a breath. “If he goes to the hospital and dies there, everything will fall apart.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I need you to trust me, Lord Seokga. I need you to trust us. Please. I love Grandfather, too. I want him to live, and I will do whatever I can to see him safely through this. But if that is not possible, I want him to pass in the way he needs to. Please put your faith in his wishes.”

 

“Can I talk to him?” Jinyoung asked desperately.

 

Mayumi nodded. “But do not let him speak too much. His lungs are not well.”

 

Jinyoung went into the bedroom. Mark was laid up in bed, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His eyes slowly traveled to meet Jinyoung’s. Jinyoung tried, but couldn’t hold back a sob.

 

“I’m sorry,” Mark said in a raspy voice. “I made it so far, but still couldn’t keep myself from catching a stupid disease like this.”

 

“Ssssh,” Jinyoung said, hurrying to sit down beside him. “It’s not your fault.” He paused. “Mayumi says you won’t go to the hospital?”

 

Mark nodded weakly. “There are laws, Jinyoung. The hospital would call a funeral home to pick up my body.”

 

“Don’t,” Jinyoung groaned. “Please, don’t.”

 

“We have to talk about this,” Mark persisted. “I don’t want to be buried in a cemetery in some random place, Jinyoung. I want to return to the earth at the Taebak Mountains. Your point of origin.” He swallowed with difficulty. “The place you will also return to, when your time comes.”

 

Jinyoung’s mouth fell open. He had never even considered the possibility until now.

 

“I know you think your time may never come,” Mark continued quietly. “Or that it may come only when the world comes to an end. But that is uncertain. Time will say nothing but I told you so. And if it will let us be together once again one day, I want to be sure we’ve done all we need to to make that happen.”

 

Jinyoung’s face collapsed, and he reached out to touch Mark’s face. “Will you wait for me there, my love?”

 

“As long as it takes. Whether it’s one year or a million.” He leaned into Jinyoung’s hand. “Will you remember me?”

 

“Always. At every second of every day. No matter how long it takes.” He kissed Mark’s cheek. “But please. Don’t go until you have to. Stay with me. Stay with me until the very end.”

 

It may have been a cruel thing to ask. The next day, Mark’s condition began to worsen. There was a complication, Mayumi reported. “From his symptoms, I’m worried it might be a lung abscess,” she said.

 

“Is there anything we can do?”

 

“The antibiotics are our best bet. He needs to keep taking them on schedule. But they take time, and there could be further complications. We need to observe him closely.”

 

But doing so was hard, harder than anything Jinyoung had ever done. Every breath of Mark’s sounded labored and agonizing, as if each was slowly sapping him of what little energy he had left. He mostly slept, but Jinyoung felt like he couldn’t even blink his eyes lest he risk Mark’s breath stopping in the interim.

 

A few more nights passed without Jinyoung getting a wink of sleep. Mayumi was getting anxious. There were no signs of improvement, in spite of the antibiotics. With every day, his breathing was sounding worse. She worried about the possibility that the infection in his abscess had spread, but there was no way to tell from her home equipment, and Mark would not go to the hospital.

 

Before taking his medications in the evening, Mark turned to Jinyoung. He hadn’t spoken in a long time—it had gotten too difficult, and too risky for his lungs—but now, his voice finally came out in a quiet whisper.

 

“You told me once, Jinyoung,” he said. “That you weren’t supposed to be here.”

 

Jinyoung couldn’t speak, just placed his hand over his trembling lips.

 

“Please don't forget. You were always supposed to be here. You still are, Seokga. My beloved Jinyoung. You are.”

 

Mark fell asleep after his dosage. Jinyoung stayed by his side for hours, not eating, not sleeping. In the evening, Mark’s breathing started slowing.

 

He never woke up.

 

Jinyoung felt the pulse fading beneath his fingers, releasing a sound like a wounded animal. “Don’t go,” he begged. “Don’t…don’t leave me…please…” The adrenaline in his body surged, demanding him to take some kind of action to stop it from happening, but he could think of nothing that would work. And then, after a moment, he realized it was already too late. It was over. Mark was gone. He was alone.

 

“No,” Jinyoung sobbed, dropping Mark’s wrist. The tears were flooding out of him, as if a dam had burst. He could barely breathe, barely contain the shudders of his body. “No, no, no.” He threw back his head and howled in grief, but it didn’t help, only made the feeling more oppressive. Before he could even process the swing in his emotions, he was consumed by a burning anger, more terrible and destructive than anything he’d ever felt before. He tore from the room, forcing open the glass doors to the back yard.

 

The sun was brilliant. Every ray of it seemed to mock him. If it had been rain, it might have helped steady him. It would have felt like Mark was with him, comforting him with the weather they had both loved and shared so many memories in. But the sun felt like an insult, a slap in the face, the universe laughing at him in his moment of agony, denying him peace.

 

He collapsed onto the grass, shaking too much to stand. His fingers tore through the grass, wanting to destroy pieces of the pretty scene surrounding him, to tear it down with his hands. It wasn’t fair that the day should go on with all its pristine beauty when he had lost the beauty in his life. But then he realized that he was taking his anger out on the wrong thing. The land was not to blame. The land had brought Mark to him and had seen them safely from place to place on their journeys. It had looked after them and taken care of them. His enemy was someone else entirely.

 

He threw his head up towards the heavens, his rage consuming him again. “ARE YOU HAPPY, YOU BASTARD?” He screamed up at his unseen tormentor. “DID YOU GET WHAT YOU WANTED? IS THIS THE PAIN OF HUMAN EXISTENCE YOU WANTED ME TO KNOW SO MUCH? ARE YOU CELEBRATING NOW THAT I’VE LEARNED IT?”

 

He thought he heard a note of laughter on the wind, and doubled over with rage and sobs, too drowned to say anything more. He just sobbed and sobbed into the grass, watering the earth with his tears. The rage subsided only for the pain to lance him again straight through, stabbing and stabbing at his heart with no promise of relief.

 

He felt hands touching his back, and knew they were Mayumi’s. She didn’t say anything, but simply held him steady as he cried. At first he thought there was no purpose for her to even try to soothe him, but then he realized the fact of her being with him, the fact of him loving other people and having someone there with him so he wouldn’t be alone, was a gift that Mark had given him. The thought of it moved him so much that he sobbed anew even though he’d barely just paused his previous cries. He sat up, collapsing back into Mayumi’s shoulder. She was crying too, but even so, she continued to support his weight on her shoulder. It felt better, to be able to share his grief. He could hear no more notes of laughter on the wind. Instead, he heard the faint echo of a woman’s voice, one he was sure he’d heard once before. Joy will walk with you for much longer than suffering. Remember that. Remember that.

 

He lifted his head, his sobs at last beginning to taper. It would be easy to surrender to the pain, to harden himself against the further hurts of human existence. This wasn’t the first death that would change his life, and it likely would not be the last. Even the young girl beside him who had become like a granddaughter to them would also be gone in the blink of an eye.

 

But, no, it wasn’t the blink of an eye. It was a lifetime. What he’d had with Mark had been a lifetime, and has passed slowly enough for him to treasure each of the moments and imprint them on his heart. It wasn’t that time had slowed; time was incapable of doing such a thing, and a moment could be frozen no more than it could be skipped ahead. Rather, he had lived those sixty-seven years as a human would, being present in each moment in a way he’d never allowed himself to be before.

 

He could not choose to stop here. Time was moving forward, even now. There was no point in refusing to move forward with it, or in blinding himself again to the fact that to accept life, death needed to be accepted just the same, just as accepting joy with Mark had meant accepting the sorrow of losing him. But Mark was only gone in one form, and remained in so many others. And for as long as Mark’s love remained in him, Jinyoung knew he could not give up. He could not let Mireuk win. He could not let the life Mark had loved and pulled back from the brink of indifference go to waste.

 

“What will you do, Lord Seokga?” Mayumi asked Jinyoung quietly. He knew she was not asking about this moment, specifically. But about all the moments to come.

 

“I am going to be there for humanity,” Jinyoung said, again lifting his face to the heavens. This time it was not in anger. He wanted Mireuk to see the determination in his face. “I am going to be the god Mireuk could never be. And embrace a humanity he will never understand.”

 


 

They remained outside together until Jinyoung was strong enough to get back on his feet. Mayumi gently touched his shoulder. “Lord Seokga,” she said. “I will prepare Grandfather for his final journey. Would you like a moment with him first?”

 

Jinyoung’s heart ached, but he nodded. “Yes. Please give me some time.”

 

Steeling himself, he went back inside and into the bedroom. He felt another sob escaping him at the sight of Mark, but steadied himself. He knew he had to do this.

 

He sat down on the bed, touching Mark’s cold hand. “Dearest,” he said in a quiet voice. “After I send you off, I’m not going to stay here. I don’t think I can bear the pain of being here without you, when you were the one who made it home for me. But it’s all right. I’m not going to go back to hunting down books and burning pages anymore. That task is behind me. I have a new purpose now.” He took a breath. “I’ll go with Mayumi. While she negotiates with the gods, I’ll negotiate with the humans. I’ll work with them to find a way to save our land before it dies. And I promise you, I won’t let humanity die on my watch.” He Mark’s hand one last time. “And I promise you, I won’t let myself die either. Not while I’m still supposed to be here. I will only come to find you when it’s my time to go. So wait for me, my love. Wait for me.”

 

He let go of Mark’s hand, rose to his feet, and left the room. Mayumi went in, shutting the door behind her. Jinyoung sank down into the couch, curling up into a ball, letting himself cry again as a new wave of pain washed over him. It would be a long time before it stopped hurting this much. Maybe it never would. He had to learn to live with that. So it was. So it is. But what will be is yet to come. Time will say nothing but I told you so.

 

Mayumi emerged an hour later and sat down beside Jinyoung on the couch. “I will tell you what remains of Grandfather’s last wishes now,” she said. “His money will be given to disaster relief services, all but a fund he has asked me to set aside to maintain ownership and upkeep of this home. His possessions are few, but he wishes to be buried with his wedding ring on. All the rest, he says you may keep or give as you wish. There is but one thing he requests he keeps with you always, no matter where you go.” She gestured to a book on the coffee table which Jinyoung hadn’t noticed before. He picked it up. It was the volume of Auden poetry they had bought at the bookstore years ago. It was well-worn now, and the spine was damaged with age. When Jinyoung opened it, he could see the pages were heavily annotated with Mark’s handwriting. He traced over the characters, treasuring every one of Mark’s words that had been left for him to explore.

 

“Grandfather had one last request,” Mayumi said. “That I look after you. And you look after me. That neither of us should be alone.” She paused. “Do you mind that, Lord Seokga?”

 

“I would be honored, Mayumi.” He patted her head. “Us looking after each other sounds an awful like family. Why don’t you call me ‘Grandfather’ instead of ‘Lord’? I’m really not much of a god anymore. Just a man.”

 

Mayumi considered this. “I think that would make sense, since you are Grandfather’s husband. Yes, I will call you that. Grandfather Seokga.” She didn’t smile, but there was a sudden bit of lightness in her eyes. “You should rest, Grandfather Seokga. You have gone long without sleep, and there is still a journey ahead of us. I’ll get some blankets for you. You can sleep on the couch for now.”

 

Jinyoung nodded. With her words, exhaustion began to creep over him. He sank down onto the cushions, closing his eyes and surrendering to sleep.

 


 

They set out for the Taebak Mountains on a foggy day in the early morning, when there would likely be no one else on the trails. Mayumi found them a wooden cart, and Jinyoung carefully laid Mark’s body down on blankets within it.

 

Both of them had thought it would be hard ascending the mountain while pulling the cart up with them, but the moment Jinyoung set foot on his homeland, he knew that this was not a journey he would be cruelly forced to suffer through. With every step, the earth seemed to be helping them upwards, easing the passages, making their burden light between them. As they ascended, a light mist fell over them, the rain light and comforting against Jinyoung’s face, like old memories. He could almost feel the mountain whispering at times. Just a little more to go, my son. You have done well. You have been strong. Let me help you, for all the times I couldn’t.

 

They reached an overlook, the exact point of Jinyoung’s origin. Jinyoung dropped the handles of the cart, taking a deep breath. It was time, then, for one more goodbye. He would entrust Mark to the land, until he could one day join him.

 

Jinyoung turned to pull the shovel he’d placed with Mark in the cart out, but was stopped by a sudden tremor beneath his feet. No, a voice whispered to him. You need not pierce my soil. Lay his body in my embrace.

 

Jinyoung paused uncertainly. “I think we’re supposed to set him down,” he told Mayumi.

 

“If that is what you think, that is what we should do.,” Mayumi agreed.

 

Together, they eased Mark out of the cart and set him onto the slightly dampened earth. For a moment, nothing happened. Jinyoung folded his arms in front of him. Take him into your embrace, Earth Mother, he prayed. Let him rest in honor and comfort in the heart of these mountains which birthed me until the day I am able to return my spirit to you alongside him.

 

It was very much the same as what had happened with Samsin. Bit by bit, Mark began to disappear into the earth, until he was gone. The moment Jinyoung could no longer see his body, the rain began to fall down harder upon them. Jinyoung tilted his head up to the sky, letting it soak into his skin and meld with his tears.

 

A warm wind brushed against his face. Live well, my love, a voice echoed through him. It was the voice of the mountain. But he could hear strains of a low and rich voice within it, a voice he knew as well as his own heart. I will be with you, always.

 

A smile broke across Jinyoung’s face, and he spun around in the rain, feeling a beautiful madness of love and joy sweep over him as it had once before. “Thank you,” he whispered, closing his eyes and feeling the rain. “Thank you for taking me this far, my love. I’ll come back one day, I promise, and carry you here in my heart until that day comes. Rest well and peacefully. It’s time now for me to go.”   

 

 

A/N: Just the epilogue is left!

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moonchildern #1
Chapter 14: i finally finished reading it omg i finally made it ㅠㅠ
you can see my last comment right? and it was on march 28 and here i am after almost 3 months, resumed reading this book coz i don’t think i can finish it in one go. i am not that strong 🤧

remember when samsin says “joy will walk with you for much longer than suffering”
and i totally agree with her. even tho jinyoung’s journey hurts like hell but i think he got his happily ever after. THAT ending was the real kind of happy ending and im so so so happy for both jinyoung and mark. they en deserve it omg i think im gonna cry again when the images of them and their struggles came flashing into my head 😭 but they’re happy now REAL happy and this is the tears of joy lmao

i don’t know what else to say. this book is amazing. like your other books. i love it. a lot. how can you always be amazing like this?? i can learn new things and perspectives from this and that was honestly one of my fav things when i read your books. i can always got something new (aside from getting our markjin being so cute sweet hot fluffy and amazing :3). ahhh i really wanna hug you rn but i can’t so im sending my ghost hug. you can’t feel it but it’s there~ thank you so so so much for this one, too! you’re the best best best sonicboom-nim! i can’t wait to read more of your work!! be happy and healthy sonicboom-nim love love ❤️
moonchildern #2
Chapter 5: omg it hurts. this is just the beginning right?? but it’s already hurt so much my soft heart cant handle the pain oh damn it. i already told myself that i have to prepare first before clicking this story and reading it, but i guess i’ll never be ready so why not now? i just hope i dont cry too much reading this fic ㅠㅠ
OnlyForNyeong
#3
Chapter 14: So beautiful! I can't remember how many I cried. Thank you for wrting this wonderful love story.
Marklife #4
Chapter 14: Thought I wouldn’t be crying again reread this but no it’s still feels the same T...T thank you authornim you may not know but through this I have learned to not give up when something is hard and difficult to deal. Thank you again
Potatoness
#5
Chapter 14: This is so beautiful.. I always look forward to your works and read them as you update but not this one because as I reasoned with a friend I need the courage to continue reading every chapter. It's just somewhat painful to read their journey and see Mark age and how they can't settle in a place and stay with their friends and family then later Jinyoung is way younger than Mark. This is the most painful goodbye I have ever read even though I know they had a lifetime together. And I cried a river I dont even want to see my reflection!! I have read tons of stuff and this work of yours is one of my favorites, I cant believe this is fanfiction! This should be a book!!! (but i love the mark and jinyoung and got7 characters though) The issues you have inserted and how the characters went through it and handled it felt like I'm learning too not to mention you have touched sensitive topics as well. I'm rambling but I just want to say youre very much talented and thank you for creating this quality content to the markjin community and to got7!! <3
Farah_7771 #6
Chapter 14: I finished reading it just now ? again i cried a LOT
I don’t know what to say again but all i know that you are much more than talented its like the way i felt every word every sentence is just hitting hard the emotions i felt since chapter 1 until the last one , you are amazing as always and thank you again and again for sharing what you write to us ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Farah_7771 #7
Chapter 13: Ive been crying for 40 minutes ......i cant even describe what i feel all i know that u are talented really thank you for spending time to write ❤️
JinyoungsMark #8
Chapter 14: Seriously this story really make me soo thrill ,love and sad at the same time..although i'm just in my 20s but i can imagine growing older with my love ones and being with them until we die..i really cried when the part mark's going to go..jinyoung's feeling in this part can make me feel empathy towards him.thank u as always for ur beautiful fic !! <3


And

I really wish u well!! I'm looking forward for ur new fic...... and I know someday you gonna stop writing ..but i just wanna let u know.i will always remember and adore ur stories and for the love of markjin! (Because theres soo many amazing writers that have stop writing) i really hope u always be inspired and always well and happy.Thank u again!!! <3
Oohmaknae_ #9
Chapter 14: You know if only i could pay you to publish your stories especially this one, im definitely doing so, only if i could and im so gonna display it in my special bookshelves where i can read it all over again. You really put the spices of life in your stories. This 'lifespan of a fly' hits me hard because i recently move in a completely different country (i used to lived in the Philippines in my 19 years of existence) . This story reminds me how people u know will just passed by in your life, ofcourse the important ones would stay but we're all going to be gone, but even so, life will still move on, it will move forward without u or without anyone and we have no choice but to live with it and keep the memories of all the people who are dear to us. Just like what u stated in the end "and so it was. And so it is" i still have a lot to say but i think i said too much already. Another big thanks author-nim for this another worth reading story of yours!
Cho_lolai101 #10
Chapter 14: “And so it was. And so it is.”
Famous last words and a most beautiful ending to such an ever-enduring , heartwarming love story with my favourite couple, MJ.
I have no words to further describe the feelings you have instilled in me as I read and re-read this masterpiece of yours, among others. How I’ve travelled with them, all the joys and sadness ... the tears I shred Most specially in this epilogue ... it’s beyond brilliant how you so eloquently create and piece them altogether. And the finality of Lord Seokga coming home to the love of his lifetime is one I will treasure. Thank you for yet another amazing ff, Author-nim.