Jinyoung stared at the suitcase in the middle of the room. Everything he’d acquired since coming to Jeju was inside it, ready for him to make the decision to leave. But on the matter of that decision, he was still uncertain. He knew he had to leave. He knew he had to see Mark at least one more time and apologize for what he’d done. What made him hesitate was the uncertainty of what would come after. He knew Mark would be unlikely to forgive him, which was entirely understandable. He’d surely ask Jinyoung to leave and never bother him again, and Jinyoung would once again leave, and…what? Continue with his task as if nothing had happened?

Jinyoung lifted up the bag and set it back down. There were still three more bookstores on his list. He really shouldn’t leave until those were taken care of, regardless of anything else. Mark would be just as furious if he showed up in Sokcho in two weeks as he would if he showed up tomorrow.

Jinyoung crossed the room, unpinning his list from the bulletin board. He’d wrap up the last few locations, arrange to move out of his room and make his last rent payment, and check in on Youngjae and Jaebum. He would go only when all those things were done. This time he’d leave without any loose ends pulling him back.

Jinyoung glanced out of the window. For once, it wasn’t blindingly sunny, but overcast. A misting rain had been falling since the morning, light but persistent. He grabbed his wallet and an umbrella and headed downstairs. The restaurant hadn’t opened yet and all the staff still seemed to be in the kitchen, so Jinyoung slipped out unobserved. Or at least he did until he turned the corner and bumped straight into Choi Youngjae.

“Oh,” Youngjae said, nearly dropping both the flowers and the umbrella he was holding. “Oh, it’s you! I was just coming to see you, but I was worried I wouldn’t be able to since the restaurant hasn’t opened and I need to go to school in twenty minutes. But you’re here!”

“Just heading out for some errands,” Jinyoung said. “How are you?” Jaebum’s appointment had happened a few days ago, which meant Youngjae knew by now what the prognosis was.

The wide smile on his face told Jinyoung everything before he even answered. “The tumor’s gone and hasn’t come back!” he yelled gleefully. “He’s cancer free! Freeeeeeeee!” He laughed, dropping his umbrella and throwing his arms around Jinyoung, nailing him with some of the flowers in the process. “The doctors are still going to need to monitor him, but he’s fine. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to stay with me.”

Jinyoung smiled genuinely, returning Youngjae’s hug with one arm and lifting the umbrella higher to shield Youngjae so he wouldn’t get wet. “I’m so happy,” he said. “For both of you.”

“Isn’t it wonderful? And IU liked his singing so much that she’s looking into finding him an audition once his physical condition is better. He’s going to live his dream, I just know it. And we’re going to get to live our dream together. Thank you, Jinyoung. Thank you so much.”

“I didn’t take his tumor away,” Jinyoung said.

“No, but you gave us our moment. It wasn’t, but it could have been one of the last we had like that. It means so much more than I’d ever be able to explain to you.”

Jinyoung nodded, closing his eyes as Youngjae continued to hug him and cry happily into his shoulder. When he opened them again, there was a figure with a roller suitcase and a transparent convenience store umbrella standing in the alley watching them that hadn’t been there before. He blinked, certain at first it was an illusion, his mind cruelly playing tricks on him, but when he looked again, the person was still standing there.

“Mark,” he said. He dropped his arms away from Youngjae, taking a step back.

Youngjae turned to look. “Do you know him?” he asked.

Jinyoung’s throat felt dry. “Yes.”

“Do you need to talk to him right now?”

“Yes.” He stared at Mark and Mark stared back. Not much had changed in the one year since he’d last seen him, other than a rather hardened look in his eyes that had never been there before. It wasn’t that he was looking at Jinyoung hatefully—to Jinyoung’s surprise, Mark looked a lot less angry than he would have expected—but that he seemed to be accustomed enough to Jinyoung’s ways to come into this meeting completely on his guard.

For Jinyoung’s part, he felt exactly how he knew he would feel. Like how he had when he’d landed in the human world, stripped of everything and certain of nothing but that his existence was headed towards an irreversible change.

“Jaebum and I will visit again later, then,” Youngjae said. He leaned over to pick up his umbrella, then extended the flowers. “For you. Sorry they’re not completely fresh. I was going to give them to Jaebum if he needed to stay in the hospital, but he doesn’t, so…”

“I’m honored to have them instead,” Jinyoung said. “Thank you. And Youngjae?”

“Yes?”

“I wish you both a very long life together. Just don’t lose sight of how precious your time together is, even though you now have more of it than you thought you would.”

Youngjae nodded solemnly. “I know. I’ll treasure every moment.”

He walked away, skipping a little as he did. Jinyoung watched him go, then turned back to Mark. Mark took the handle of his suitcase and walked forward. Jinyoung numbly led him to the side alley of The Blue Depths where they’d be less likely to be overheard. Jinyoung sat down on the back steps under the overhang so he could shut his umbrella and place the flowers in his lap. Mark remained standing in the rain.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as they looked at each other, broken only by the light whisper of mist against Mark’s umbrella. Jinyoung knew he should probably be the one to speak first with an apology, but ‘I’m sorry’ seemed insufficient, and starting right into a long explanation felt like the wrong way to begin the conversation after having been apart for a yeat.

“So, then,” Mark said when he realized Jinyoung was struggling to speak. “I finally found you.”

“So you did.” The words were light, but Jinyoung’s voice was heavy. “How? The episode of the variety shouldn’t have come out so quickly.”

“It didn’t. Yugyeom just so happens to be a hardcore IU fan and watched a fancam of the event. Imagine his surprise when you were the first person to step up for open mic.”

“I see.” Jinyoung folded his arms over his chest. “So you were looking for me, before?”

“As much as I could. You were smart about leaving, I’ll give you that. You gave me almost nothing to go on.”

“Why would you even want to find me, knowing that?”

“I don’t know. I kind of wanted to punch you in the face, to be honest.”

“Are you going to now?”

Mark released a long sigh, those guarded eyes of his seeming to size Jinyoung up. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “If I believed without question that the Jinyoung in front of me is the same one who left me that night, I would have probably turned around and gotten back on the plane and never thought of you again a day in my life. I don’t want to be with that person who claimed to love me but made me go through that agony after giving me his word that he wouldn’t. That’s not someone worthy of the love I felt for you.” He took a breath. “But that person just now who helped that boy and made him so happy. That person I saw onstage in the video who said my name right when he confronted the need to let somebody love him. That person is someone I still want to love. And I believe that person is who you truly want to be. So what I need you to do is explain to me in a way I can understand why you felt like you had to leave. I really don’t want to be angry with you or punch you in the face, Jinyoung. I just want to know you. The real you. So please, if you really do love me, help me do that.”

Jinyoung stared at him in amazement. “You would forgive me? After what I did?”

“I never said that.”

“But you would give me another chance? You would even go so far as to love me, even though I’ve been so terrible?”

Mark shrugged.  “Would it help if I followed in your footsteps and just gave up at every sign of difficulty?”

“This is more than a difficulty. I left you. Up until a few days ago, I had absolutely no intention of explaining myself to you or ever coming back. Wouldn’t you be completely justified in giving up on a person like that?”

“Do you want me to?”

Jinyoung was silent for a moment. His voice broke as he finally said, “No.”

“Then you’re not that person anymore. There’s something left to save. And-” Mark swallowed, his eyes finally revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. “What you ran away from was real. That’s why it scared you, didn’t it? Because you swore to yourself you’d never fall in love with anyone. But you did.”

Jinyoung took a deep and steadying breath. He’d put this off long enough. It was time.

“Come with me,” he said, nodding towards the side entrance which led into the kitchens of The Blue Depths. He opened the door and navigated to the corridor, ignoring all the staff attempting to scold him for bringing a guest with a dripping umbrella into an employee’s only area. They took the stairs up to Jinyoung’s room, which was still bare but for the mattress, the packed suitcase, and the bulletin board. Jinyoung leaned his umbrella against the door, but didn’t know where to put Youngjae’s flowers, so kept holding them.

“You should probably sit for this,” Jinyoung said.

“Where?” Mark asked. “You never have furniture.”

“The floor. The mattress. Wherever.”

Mark sat cross-legged on the floor and Jinyoung sat across from him, nestling the flowers in his lap. How fitting, he thought, suddenly realizing the connection. Flowers in my lap. Just like when this whole thing began.

“Remember that poem you wrote?” Jinyoung said after a moment. “The one about Seokga and Mireuk?”

“Yes. You took it, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And now you’re going to tell me why?”

“Yes. But first I’m going to tell you the true story. The story you reflected on in your poem isn’t what actually happened. Not just because humans have eternally been ignorant of the nature of their gods, but because in this case, the Great God encouraged their ignorance.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. So just listen.” Jinyoung closed his eyes and took a breath before opening them again. “Before there were gods, there was the earth. The gods did not invent the skies or the ground or the water; they did not create the planets or cosmos. Rather, they themselves were created from the energies and power of the land, for the land did not want to exist in solitude and wished for life to fill it. So the spirit of the land manifested into what humans call ‘gods.’ These gods were meant to oversee from the heavens the land they were born from, and craft living things to tend to the earth from the earth itself. In the land now known as Korea, there were a number of gods born from the earth. Mireuk, Seokga, Jowang, Samsin, Mujosin, Mago, Manura, Seolmundae. Mireuk, being the most confident and self-assured of the gods, declared that he would join the council of creator gods, which would gather from each region and decide on the look and nature of the beings that would populate the land. If the other gods allowed him the power and freedom to do this, he would give them first pick over what specific areas of the land they would personally oversee. The other gods, thinking this a fair arrangement, agreed.

“So Mireuk joined a council with many gods from around the earth to decide the shape of men and women. Not all the gods could agree on the same details, so they allowed for small differences in appearances suited to the varying regions of the world. Mireuk returned from the council and set to work creating the first peoples of Korea according to his vision, and for the first time, humans wandered the land and the land was contented.

“The god Seokga looked upon the humans and felt a great love in his heart for them. He wanted to be their caretaker, the one they would pray to as their greatest advocate among the heavens. When it was time for the gods to choose their roles as Mireuk had vowed to allow them to do, Seokga asked to be made the God of Humanity, one whose responsibility was not water nor fire nor winds nor love, but the wellbeing of humans according to their nature as such. But Mireuk, believing the humans to be his sole possessions, refused Seokga, reneging on his bargain. Seokga, angered at this abuse of his trust, challenged Mireuk to a competition which would decide which one had the right to have domain over the humans.

“At first, the two were evenly matched, their competitions ending in draws with no conclusive winner. Seokga then proposed another challenge. A true god should show unwavering craft and skill at all times, as one could never know when an hour of need might fall, so Seokga suggested they try blooming flowers in their sleep. Mireuk agreed and promptly went to sleep, flowers sprouting around him even as he slumbered.

“Seokga had closely observed the humans after their creation, and recognized their incredible ability to adapt, solve problems, learn from their environment, and, when all else failed, use cleverness and trickery to survive. Admiring these qualities, Seokga resolved to emulate them to prove he best understood the nature of humans. While Mireuk slept, Seokga stole all his flowers and claimed them as his own. When Mireuk awoke, it was to see Seokga with a lap covered in hundreds of flowers, the victor of the challenge. Mireuk, though not all-knowing, realized that the victory could not have been achieved without some degree of underhandedness.”

Jinyoung paused, looking at Mark. “You know what he did next, yes?”

Mark nodded. “He handed over rulership of humans to Seokga. Then he disappeared, and was never heard from again.”

“That is what he would have had humankind believe. But that is not at all what happened. Mireuk was enraged. He was the one who created the humans, so he believed he and he alone should be treated as their heavenly leader. He knew himself to be outsmarted by Seokga, and hated him for it. This was a misdeed against the Great God, he decided to himself. And all misdeeds must be punished severely. Beginning with this one.

“Mireuk’s wrath was great, and upon Seokga he delivered a curse. Your victory is not a triumph, oh wicked brethren. It is a corrupting sin, and due to your unjustness, unjustness will become a part of the human world. You who wished to rule the humans so dearly that it led you to trickery, live among them and learn to your peril the pain human existence can bring to you. For as long as this world remembers your name and the sin you brought upon it, you will know no rest, oh bringer of calamity, oh wellspring of injustice. Until the last mind forgets your stain of evil upon the world and the last page bearing your name burns to ash, freedom shall never again be within your grasp.”

Jinyoung’s voice faltered. “And so it was. And so it is. Seokga was cast down into the human world, stripped of his godly powers but retaining his eternal life until a day comes when no one remembers his name and every text immortalizing him burns to ash. And so he remains to this day. Mireuk remained as the Great God of the land, even as the human-revered-as-a-god Buddha and the god of Israel replaced him in the hearts of his people.”

Mark sat silently for a moment, staring at Jinyoung with wide eyes. They were not disbelieving. Jinyoung could tell in the seriousness of Mark’s expression that he believed every word of it. Still, he was left shaken. If he believed it, that meant so much of what he had believed before had been completely dismantled. Even though his Christian god was very much a real being, he was a god meant for a different place and a different people. Meanwhile, the gods native to the land of America had long since been set aside, relegated to myths and stories just as surely as Mireuk and Seokga had been.

“That’s why you’re obsessed with books,” Mark said slowly. “You’re burning yourself out of them. You’re trying to end your eternal life…your curse. You’re him, aren’t you? You’re Seokga.”

Jinyoung shivered at the sound of Mark saying his oldest name, the one he had given up the moment his feet touched the earth. “Well,” he said in a shaky voice, “when you said you’d believe whatever crazy thing I ended up being, you really meant it, I see.”

“It makes more sense than you being an average person ever did. I knew there had to be something about you. And so there is.”

“Yes. There is.”

Mark studied Jinyoung, his facial expression going through several swift changes. “You’ve been around…”

“Since the dawn of humanity. Yes.”

“Through every age? You’ve seen…everything?”

Jinyoung sighed. “You say that like I personally watched every momentous happening there ever was. I haven’t. I didn’t see the creation of the pyramids. I didn’t meet any of the most famous and infamous kings and queens. It was just day to day life, for the most part. Just regular, everyday happenings with regular, everyday people. Sure, there were amazing discoveries and advancements happening around me, but it felt just like it does when there’s an interesting invention these days. Just a part of the regular march of time.”

“But you don’t just stay in one place, do you? We met in America, after all.”

“Yes, well, as it turns out, other countries are vaguely interested in each other. Books about Korean myths ended up in other places. Not as many as, say, stories about Greek gods or the gods of the Norse, but I did slip out past our borders. And I can’t just stay in the same place looking perpetually in my twenties without raising questions. So yes, I’ve been around. Not really to immerse myself in other cultures, but to burn more books until I can safely return to the place where most of the books are. That is why we met. If it was ‘the hand of god’ like you said, it was Mireuk’s hand.”

“Mireuk, huh. From the moment I read about him, I knew I didn’t like him. Now I know why.”

“You got me entirely wrong, though. I… truly, deeply loved your poem. It is the only account of me that is even remotely understanding of why I did what I did. But you painted me as someone who selflessly suffered with my people. And I have not.”

Mark frowned. “It sounds to me like that’s exactly what you’ve been doing.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve suffered,” Jinyoung said, the volume of his voice rising. “I’ve suffered living without dying. I’ve suffered the exhaustion of it, of wanting to cease to exist but never being able to. I’ve suffered walking the same tired paths every day, trying to destroy faith and knowledge which refuses to be destroyed, watching the land and its people forget its gods or kill each other over the greatness of one over the other. I’ve seen the land I should have protected invaded and scourged and divided into two and transformed into something I cannot even recognize anymore, and I’ve been powerless all the while. But I have never suffered with anyone. I’ve always suffered alone. You were right about what you once said to me. That I’ve never loved anyone. Because I stopped loving the moment I saw what loving could do to me and everyone around me. I loved humans. And my love and determination to be with them filled their world with unjustness they would always be plagued by. My love turned me against my purpose and made me into yet another being powerless in the face of the universe.”

“But Mireuk was the one who cursed us with unjustness- ”

“Because of me. If I’d just let him step into the role he wanted-”

“Korea would have been stuck with a horrible, selfish god.”

“They were stuck with him anyways! Maybe that was the appeal of Buddha! Maybe that was why the god of Israel was such a tempting replacement! But regardless of Mireuk’s faults, I was the one who played him false with my sinful victory. If not for me, there would be no curse.”

“You didn’t owe Mireuk any better! He lied to you in your bargain before that. If anything, he was the first to be unjust. And you never cursed anyone for that!” Mark in his breath. “I bet he lied to you about the nature of your curse, too. The eternal life thing I’m willing to believe. But cursing the world with unjustness? The entire world, over such a little thing? I really doubt that. Almost every religion has an explanation for why things here aren’t fair. The garden of Eden. Pandora’s box. Do you know what I think? Unjustness is just in the nature of existence, and it’s no one person’s fault. It just is. Because things exist, they can be damaged or hurt. Because people have minds of their own, they can choose the wrong things. There’s a natural injustice in that which has nothing to do with you. It’s just a consequence of being alive. It’s not your fault.”

Jinyoung swallowed, wanting to believe in these words. He’d tried to convince himself of the same thing numerous times. Before he’d been cursed and banished to the earth, he’d thought he’d seen unjustness already present among the humans. One stealing another’s food. Another hurting a friend in a moment of rage. How could any of that have been his fault? And yet, he’d seen injustices he’d never seen before from the heavens after he came to the earth. Murder and war and and abuse. How could he not help but believe that those things had spread like a cloud of disease from his cursed body?

“It doesn’t signify,” Jinyoung said in a wet voice. “The end result is the same. I forsook my love of humans and hardened my heart against all of them, through every age. You were the first I let myself care about, and then I forsook you, too.”

“But you regret it. I know you do.”

“Yes, but is it even a good thing that I do?” Jinyoung in air through his teeth. “You want a life together with me. If I give you that just to satisfy my love for you, let me explain what I’ll be damning you to. Within about fourteen years or so, it will become clear I am not aging. We will have to leave this place and never come back, and anyone who knew me here—including your friends—must never see me in person again. We’ll have to continue to move every fifteen years, completely uprooting our lives and saying goodbye to the people we used to know. You can’t introduce me to your parents or any of your family, because if they know about me, they’ll expect to see me around with you year after year and will be confused about why you’ve suddenly banned them from seeing me to hide the fact that I’m not aging. That means if you intend to stay with me, you’ll have to see your family very rarely, and see them without me every time you do. You’ll have to cut them out of a huge portion of your life and lie to them about it whenever they ask. On top of this, you will be growing older, and I will remain at your side exactly as I am. If you wish a relationship with me, you’ll have to accept me being in the form of a twenty-something even when you’re sixty, and how that might appear to other people. And then-”

Jinyoung took a deep and shuddering breath. “And then comes the fact that I am going to outlive you. However long we have, you will be taken from me in what, to me, will feel like the blink of an eye. You will be gone, and I will live on. Even if I somehow manage to burn every book where my name appears, historians will still remember Seokga during your lifetime. You will still remember Seokga. And the fact is, there’s no guarantee that I will be able to eliminate all the texts with my name anytime soon. I have been trying for centuries, and modern printing has only made it harder. At any point, there could be a greater interest in traditional Korean history and ancient religions, and all my work could be undone by a mass release of new texts. After you die, I could live on for centuries. For millennia. Perhaps even if the earth itself destroys the humans who are destroying it, I will still exist. I don’t know. All I know is that my mind will never deteriorate. I will never forget you. I will carry you with me always, and through whatever peace that may bring me, there will be just as much pain attached. All of that is what being together will mean.”

Mark was silent for a long moment. Jinyoung couldn’t tell what he was thinking or even what he wanted Mark to be thinking. As much as he still believed that Mark letting him go would be the healthiest thing for Mark himself, he didn’t want it. No matter how inevitable it was that he would lose him, he didn’t want it to happen before getting to properly love and be loved by him anymore.

At long length, Mark reached out, gathering Jinyoung’s hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he said in a thick voice. “But I can’t just leave you to be alone.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Please don’t decide as a sacrifice to me, Mark. It’s already impossible for me to shut myself off from people in the way I used to. I will never be as alone as I was, thanks to you.”

“I’m not choosing just for you. I said I can’t leave you. And I can’t. Because I love you. No matter how much that changes everything else. I love you.” He tightened his hands around Jinyoung’s. “No matter how brief our years together will seem to you, it will be a lifetime for me. And I want that lifetime to be filled with memories of you. And I want the part of your lifetime with me to be the part where you felt like your life well and truly began.” He looked at Jinyoung gently. “Is that selfish? I’m not the one who will have to live on indefinitely, so I know there will be painful things you’ll go through that I won’t have to. Is it all right that I want to stay with you, all the same?”

Jinyoung looked down at their joined hands. It would only be a matter of a few years before that hand was wrinkled and then gone entirely. But he wanted to hold onto it while he could all the same.

“Yes,” Jinyoung whispered. “Please. Stay with me.”

“Then I will.”

They sat quietly together for a moment, clinging to each other and taking strength from the connection they’d nearly been severed from. It was a good ten minutes or so before Mark finally cleared his throat.

“How soon are you able to come back?” he asked.

 “I need to settle my rental fees with Jooyi,” Jinyoung said. “And say goodbye to Youngjae and Jaebum.”

“Good. Glad to hear you’re not planning on ghosting anyone this time.” Mark dug through his wallet, pulling out a ticket. “I have to go back in two days.”

“I’ll try not to stay here more than a few days after you leave, then. We have lost time to make up for.”

“Yes.” Mark placed a hand on his cheek, then leaned in to kiss him briefly. “But still, don’t rush your goodbyes. They may not get to see you again, after this. But I will.”

“So, who’s the friend?” Jooyi asked when Jinyoung and Mark finally descended back to the restaurant thanks to the incessant grumbling of Mark’s stomach and Jinyoung’s need to find a vase and some water for the flowers before they dried out.

“I’m his boyfriend,” Mark said before Jinyoung could answer.

Jooyi’s eyebrows flew up. “Boyfriend? Wait, is that why he was being so miserable all the time? Because you guys were long distance and he missed you?”

“More like he ghosted me and was trying to get over me,” Mark said mildly.

“Ugh, typical. Why are you taking him back?”

“He’s pretty attractive, if you haven’t noticed. And I’m weak for him when he cries.”

“Well, lucky for you, I think he may have experienced a redemption arc. Still, don’t let him off too easy for it. Nothing worse than a man who refuses to learn his lesson.”

“Don’t worry,” Mark said with a small smile. “I’m planning on looking out for him. Now, would you mind telling me about his little redemption arc? I’m curious about what he’s been up to.”

They remained down in The Blue Depths for an hour or so, Jooyi giving a grand retelling of Jinyoung’s efforts to get Jaebum into IU’s concert lineup. Mark seemed to enjoy it, and Jinyoung enjoyed watching him listen. The full extent to which he had missed every little thing about him, from his low voice to his subtle gestures, overwhelmed him, but it was no longer a sorrowful thing. They would be together now. And maybe the joy wouldn’t last forever. But he had it now, and that was an invaluable thing.

As lunch traffic began to pick up in the restaurant, they went back upstairs. Mark looked at the bulletin board, and the mostly crossed out list. “So, I guess you mostly wiped Seokga out of Jeju, huh?”

“There was a lot to wipe out. Jeju has a bigger interest in the traditional than other places. A lot of the pantheon originated from Jeju, so I suppose it makes sense. And even though I wiped myself out of books, there are still plenty here who know of the god Seokga. And as long as I exist in living memory, I cannot complete my task.”

“When you go back to Inje, are you going to continue to do this?” Mark asked, nodding towards the list. “Going off to destroy books?”

Jinyoung bit his lip. “I…I don’t want to continue to let them build up, but…I don’t want to be gone for long periods either. What do you think?”

“I’ll be honest. On one hand, I really don’t like it. Not only you leaving, but…I don’t know. I can’t help but feel like it’s a form of trying to kill yourself.”

“Maybe. I’ve wanted an end. For the longest time. I won’t deny that”

Mark winced a little. “I…can understand that, too. I can’t imagine living forever, but it must be horrible.”

“Yes. It is.”

“So I don’t want to tell you to give up what you’re doing. Especially now that I know the story you’re trying to get rid of is a complete lie. But at the same time…” He trailed off.

“It’s not a particularly enjoyable thought having me spend half the time we’re together trying to erase myself?”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Jinyoung nodded. He knew how much giving up the task might set him back. But he also knew that even if he destroyed every book with his falsified story inside of it that was being sold in Korea, it still wouldn’t change the fact that he had no way of reaching all the books on the shelves of regular people or languishing in some landfill after having been thrown out. It was perhaps not an impossible task, but it was still nigh on one. He’d always known that, but had hoped he would be able to achieve it anyways.

It had been his one purpose in life. But now Mark had shown him the way towards another, and he wanted that to be the thing he expended his time and energy on while he was still able. His task would still be waiting for him when he was ready to start again, after all. The passage of a few years wouldn’t make it entirely impossible.

Jinyoung took the list from the bulletin board and ripped it down the middle. “I’ll take down the ones in Inje, too, if you help me find replacement décor,” Jinyoung said.

Mark smiled. “You? Décor? Are you going to buy furniture as well?”

“Maybe, if you’re going to insist on coming over all the time again. For starters, I should get a bigger mattress.”

“Not that. Anything but that.”

Mark wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed him slowly, seeming to fully relish the taste of him as he hadn’t been able to in the brief kiss earlier. Jinyoung curved into him. He’d always thought of himself as a fallen god, even though he had no godly powers left. But when Mark kissed him, he felt human. And he loved every moment of it.

Slowly, Mark eased him towards the mattress, and Jinyoung broke away to sink down into it, pulling Mark with him. Mark hovered over him, gently teasing his fingers through Jinyoung’s hair.

“Was it all right?” Mark asked. “That we did this? It wasn’t a blasphemy, or anything?”

“You can’t blaspheme someone who isn’t sacred. And you did nothing to me I didn’t invite you to do.” Jinyoung tilted his head. “You know how long I’ve been around. You can’t think that was the first time I’ve ever done that with a mortal, right?”

Mark gave him a quelling look. “Don’t. What we did isn’t the same as whatever you did with people you didn’t even care about.”

“Fine. But rest assured that you won’t be struck down by lightning. You should remember that in the story I told you of the gods, there was no mention of any rules or commandments.”

“So, there aren’t any?”

“Not from the gods. We created you to do nothing more than live. How you choose to do so is a decision each of you makes for yourself, for good or ill.” Jinyoung brushed his finger against his cheek. “For what it’s worth, I would like you to choose to do it again. The last time, I had already decided to leave before it happened. Every moment of it, I treated it more like a last than a first.”

“And we can’t leave it at that, can we?”

“No. We absolutely can’t.”

It was once again a different experience, being with him; not only different from how it had been with anyone else, but different even from how it had been the last time on that rainy night in Inje. It had felt beautiful at the time, but there had been no freedom in it. Jinyoung had still felt wholly chained by his curse, and had been unable to surrender himself enough to make a full connection. At the same time he’d loved how Mark had made him feel, he’d hated it for being something he’d never allow himself to feel again.

But not this time. This time was everything the last time couldn’t be. It was at times wild and unbound, and at others careful and reverent. The lingering remains of Seokga and his thirst for devotion from humans thrilled at the way Mark seemed to worship his body, paying ardent attention to the satisfaction of every part of it.  But he also loved when they were both so lost in it that they couldn’t be gentle and deliberate, but instead untamed and messy and free and purely human in their desires. Just as he’d thought, loving Mark felt like living. And it didn’t hurt as much as he’d assumed to feel alive. It was better than mere existence. It was better than anything.

When they’d exhausted themselves, Mark rolled off of Jinyoung and laid beside him on the mattress. He looked so bowled over that Jinyoung wanted to laugh, something that had been so rare for him that it surprised him even now. Still, he couldn’t resist the temptation to tease.

“Are you reviewing the whole thing in your head for a religious studies paper?” Jinyoung asked lightly. “A thesis on what it’s like to engage in carnal union of the flesh with a former god?”

“I see you remembered the phrase I gave you.”

“I liked it. Anyways, if you think about it, you now know a little bit more about religious ecstasy than you ever have before. I feel like you should be qualified to graduate by now.”

“Who knew you had a sense of humor?”

“It makes you slightly less annoying if I get on your level.”

“Still pretending like you think I’m obnoxious, huh?” He his side. “You know, there’s nothing that says I have to stay with my host family. When you come back, what would you say to moving in together?”

“But you go to school in Sokcho.”

“I can commute. I’m an American, Jinyoung. Traveling an hour to get to school is nothing.”

“There’s literally nothing in my house but books and a mattress.”

“We’re going to rectify that, right? Besides, if you’re not going around hunting down books all the time and we only saw each other on weekends like before, what would you do with all that time?”

“Get a job, maybe?”

“That’s actually not a half bad idea. But still. I want to move in with you. Can I?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung finally capitulated. “That would be fine. Or better than fine. If you promise not to be a brat all the time.”

“I’m never a brat.” Mark yawned loudly. “God, I’m tired.”

“I noticed. Just go to sleep.”

“Will you be there when I wake up?”

“Yes. I promise this time. I will be.”

For the rest of Mark’s remaining time in Jeju, he dragged Jinyoung around to all the tourist spots he was desperate to see as a first-timer to the island. Jinyoung, much to his surprise, also enjoyed the mini tour. Though he’d been living in Jeju for the past year, he’d spent most of it in total numbness, blocking out everything and even resenting the sun for its brightness. Now that he had his eyes open, he saw for himself what a beautiful place it was. He wished he hadn’t wasted so much time blind to it, but then again, if he hadn’t been so blinded, he wouldn’t have left Mark in the first place.

Sooner than Jinyoung was ready for, Mark had to go back to Sokcho. “You’ll be coming back, too, in a few days,” Mark said wryly when he saw Jinyoung’s frown. “Unless you’re planning on ghosting again…?”

“No,” Jinyoung said. “It’s just that my room will feel quiet and empty again.”

“Then I’ll do some equipment tests,” Jooyi called from the background. “Give you a loud and proper send off before you leave me to find someone crazy enough to take that room off my hands again.”

When Mark left, Jinyoung spent the rest of his time finishing up the paperwork to end his lease and helping Jooyi put up new ads to announce the vacancy. The day before he was set to fly back, he met up with Youngjae and Jaebum for a goodbye dinner at The Blue Depths. Jaebum was optimistic that they’d meet again—after all, he was planning on becoming a celebrity, and celebrities toured around Korea—but Youngjae was far more teary about it.

“Can I write to you?” he asked. “You can be like my adopted big brother, pen pal type person.”

“Sure,” Jinyoung said. “Though I’m not really sure if I’ll have anything interesting to say.”

“I don’t mind. I just don’t want to lose touch. I feel like it’s important that Jaebum and I never forget about you and what you did for us.”

Jinyoung felt a warm feeling spreading through him. This is what I wanted it to feel like, he realized. To be the God of Humanity. He’d had no idea it would be possible for him to feel the same way on earth. But maybe he could do the same thing he’d meant to do as a god in little ways. By helping people. By answering their prayers, just as he’d managed to do for Jaebum and Youngjae.

“I won’t forget you two either,” Jinyoung said. “I’m glad we were all able to meet each other. It really must have been the hand of god.”

His flight arrived during school hours, so Mark wasn’t there to meet him at the airport. Jinyoung didn’t mind. Mark would be coming to Inje that evening, carting some of his stuff with him. They were planning to move him over in stages, but soon the home in Inje would be his home, too.

It felt strange in a way, coming back. Jinyoung had taken the train from Yangyang Airport before, but it felt like an entirely new experience. He was more aware of the people on the train with him, more interested in their conversations. He was more curious about the scenery that passed by from the window. It felt in a way like he’d never really seen it before this moment.

When he arrived at the house, he unlocked and slid open the door, setting his bag down on the floor. Before he did anything else, he went through every room and tore down all the papers covering the wall, exposing the white paint underneath. It took some time; there were hundreds upon hundreds of places he hadn’t visited. Places he might never visit now. The world was an ever-changing place. By time he resumed his mission, Korea again wouldn’t be the same Korea it was now.

When all the pages were down, he went to the fireplace, which was still filled with the ashes of the stories and lies which had previously defined his existence. He threw down all the lists and lit a match, watching the last traces of his old self and tired journeys going up in coils of grey smoke.