Serin lays down on her bed - one hand gripping the phone she has by her ear, and the other resting gently on the soft mattress beneath her. A portable fan—her best friend—is spinning right by her desk and granting her the sweet bliss of fresh cold air. It’s around noon, and the cicadas are currently having a rave party outside and Serin has no absolute intention of stepping outside until well after lunch because the heat is just that unbearable. She’s having a barbeque with her friends later that evening anyway, so she doesn’t have to worry about not going out for the day. 

But those things aren’t really occupying Serin’s mind right now. What’s taking up her thinking space is the endless beep of the call she’s making as she prays that her mother picks up her phone and hasn’t lost track of it like she normally does most days because well, boomers. 

And oh, the fact that she’s going to die soon, obviously. Her morning is spent between crying her soul out and glaring at the Dead Man’s Manual like it’s a mortal enemy, hoping her glare will make it burst into flames. To hell that book, and that pissy ghost that comes with it. everything, honestly. 

The phone finally picks up, and she jolts into a sitting position when she hears her mother’s voice through the other end of the line. 

”Good morning, dear.” 

”Mom, how is Sehun doing?”

”He’s doing a bit better than last week, fortunately. This is a medically induced coma after all, so they’re in control of the situation. They even took blood tests yesterday to check his liver function, and it seems pretty stable.” 

Serin releases a sigh of relief, and her sentence comes out shakier than intended. ”Thank God.”

”Serin, I know you’re worried, but he’s going to be fine, I promise.” 

”A state of coma is not fine, mom. It’s a medical emergency, it means he suffered brain damage.” 

”And it can be fixed, with physical therapy. He’ll be up in no time, you’ll see.”

She can feel her own voice crack. ”How are you being so optimistic about this? He could have died, and it was—”

”None of this is your fault, do you understand?!” her mother cuts her off sternly. ”Don’t you dare throw this on yourself. Have I made myself clear?”

But it is her fault. ”Yes,” she answers instead. 

”Good. How is…your aunt there doing?” 

Your aunt, she says. Not my sister. Serin almost laughs at the blatant awkwardness in the air, despite the fact that they’re talking through the phone. Auntie Eunjung and mother Eunji are sisters, canonically different sisters, that is. They have never gotten along specifically much, but keep it cordial nonetheless. At least when Serin’s there, which is why her mother’s attempt at dripping in concern for her sibling almost sends her laughing like a seagull. Because it’s so forced. 

”She’s doing okay,” she states honestly. ”Told me not to sleep with the fan on at night, or it could kill me or something.” 

”Right, well, you know how she is,”  there’s a sigh from the other end of the line. ”she should really quit with these dumb superstitions.” 

”Mom, it’s fine! It’s honestly harmless, and she helps me out a lot.” 

Her mother sighs again and starts rambling on about something else that Serin doesn’t pay much attention to, since her gaze and mind has fallen on the newly conjured Baekhyun at the corner of her room, who waves silently at her. 

”Can I call you back later? Something came up really quickly.”

”Oh? O-Okay then, sure dear.” 

Serin is about to hang up when she halts in hesitation, biting down on her lip. 

You’re going to die soon, is what her mind tells her, and for a split second she really is tempted to tell her mother everything. But it would probably prove to be futile if the woman would even begin to believe the extravagant story she has gotten herself into. And so Serin simply lifts the phone to her ear one last time. 

”I love you and dad. You know that, right?”

There’s a small silence before her mother speaks up again with a shakier voice. ”Of course, and I love you too, no matter what happened or what happens, okay?”

She nods, lips yet caught between her lips. ”Bye mom,” and then she hangs up. 

Baekhyun is still standing in the corner of her room. 

”What do you want?” 

”Well, firstly, you know I’m tied to you and that I will automatically be summoned anywhere you are. Intermortial link, remember?”

Serin rolls her eyes, and nears her face to the fan in hope the fresh air clears her clogged mind. ”I’m not reading the dead dude’s journal or whatever you call it,” she cuts to the point.

”It’s the Dead Man’s Manual and you know it, but whatever. And I suggest you start reading soon unless you want to fail the test once you’re dead and become a tormentor.” 

”What, so I’ll take an exam once I’m dead? Is this a joke?” 

”I wish I was joking,” Baekhyun sighs, rubbing his temple dramatically. ”It’s to keep order in the afterlife, that way people are prepared and know what to do no matter what they get assigned once they die. It’s both well structured and tactical, don’t you think?” 

She merely responds with an annoyed groan. ”Aren’t you supposed to be my guide, though? I’m not supposed to read this by myself, you’re supposed to guide me through the book, no?” 

He chuckles, walking up to sit with her on her bed. ”That was smooth, I’ll admit it. Okay, I’ll guide you through the book then, Serin.”

Baekhyun hands her the book from the nightstand, and she flips through it breezley. ”Okay, what am I supposed to do now?” 

Serin admires how he remains in thought for a minute or two, mumbling to himself and considering what she assumes are different education options. She takes the opportunity to study his features; his skin is slightly paler than hers, his eyes droopy and the color of a rich brown. His jaw is sharp and smooth, and his lips, honestly, kind of adorable. He looks a bit like a puppy, and it’s strange to imagine that he is dead, that he died in some kind of way, and is connected to the living world only thanks to her. He looks strangely…normal. He doesn’t look dead. 

”Okay,” he claps his hands together and sits upright on the bed, and Serin snaps out of her trance. ”Let’s start with the easy stuff, go to page sixty seven.” 

She does as she is told, and her finger lands on chapter two; guides and their relation to the living world. 

”Great, now I want you to read egery subheading and its content one at a time, and then I’ll question you about it. We’ll do it like this until we reach the end of the chapter, and then you will summarise it for me, sounds good?” 

Serin shrugs. ”I guess.” 

She starts reading, and remains pleasantly surprised at how oddly entertaining the book is. It’s like reading the manual to some world building fantasy book, and the whole idea of it is whacking in its own, oddly charming way. It somehow feels surreal, which is why Serin doesn’t take it that seriously at first. 

However, her interest is piqued when she reads through the subheading on a guide’s relation to other ghosts. 

A guide is not recommended to interact with other guides while on duty in the living world. It shall be noted that this is only a recommendation and can be contradicted on special occasions. See page fifty six, section three for further specification. 

A guide shall at all costs avoid any type of interaction with tormentors or demonic entities. If a guide encounters a demonic entity, they shall report it to higher ranked officials immediately. See page eighty eight, section five for further specification. 

Serin stops reading, and turns to Baekhyun. ”Wait, demons exist?” 

He nods. ”Yes, ma’am, though they’re a bit out of my reach, I have to admit. They are things God himself takes care of.” 

”But aren’t they the same thing as tormentors? Can I become a demon when I die?”

”Nope. You see, the reason they are called demonic entities, is because they were never human in the first place. They come directly from hell, they’ve always been demons, while tormentors were once humans and were turned into what they are. I guess this makes tormentors a bit less dangerous in comparison, because they can be handled, while demons are to be condemned back to hell immediately. They’re not supposed to be in the world of the living anyway.” 

”So the conjuring movies are all for real then,” she mumbles to herself, huffing in annoyance at the heat, before she notices something else about the previous passage. ”Hold on, here it also says that you can’t interact with other guides. Why is that?” 

”That’s actually been put only last year in the book, so it’s a new recommendation. Basically, a guide’s status depends on who they, well, guide to death. A ghost who guides Queen Elizabeth to the afterlife is a lot cooler in heaven’s eyes than someone who guides a normal civilian, you get me? Well, there’s always been quarrels between guides through the years about who is taking who to the afterlife, and so on. The last drop was with Prince Philip. Ever wondered how he managed to live so long while looking like he might start a zombie epidemic at any moment? Because guides kept fighting for his spot and sabotaging each other. God implemented the recommendation to keep some peace.” 

Serin is stuck between laughing her off, or cover because that’s ing horrible and hilarious at the same time. She’s not going to lie though, she has done many top ten things that would kill Prince Philip jokes, but this revelation is at a completely different level. 

”Wait,” she remembers instead. ”Does that mean that I’m the first person you’ve talked to in months?” 

He nods with a small smile, but she doesn’t find it the least bit amusing. ”That’s horrible, how haven’t you turned insane?” 

”When you’re dead, you get used to the silence, and being ignored by everyone. It’s awful at first, but time also becomes something relative, until you don’t remember what it’s like spending time with many people at the same time. It’s really no tragedy, I can handle it. Others can’t, and well, they turn into tormentors, so..” he trails off, and Serin nods. 

”Well, thank God both me and Jongin can see you, right?”

Baekhyun looks thoughtful for a moment, as if her words have brought  him into a trance. He soon breaks out of it though, as he glances at her with a small smile, and reaches out to flick her on her forehead. ”Keep reading.” 

Serin gasps at the contact of his ice cold fingers against her warm skin, not having expected anything of the likes. In fact, at that moment it hits her that this is the first time she and Baekhyun have made actual physical contact. This revelation also comes as a relief, because this man is cold, and she’s suffering in a scalding thirty five degrees celsius right now. 

”Ow, you’re cold!” She exclaims, and grabs his wrist in response. 

Baekhyun yelps in surprise. ”Well- yeah, that tends to happen when you’re dead.” 

But Serin ignores him, and without thinking brings his hand to her face, enjoying the way his fingers are like small ice cubes against her skin. Why didn’t she think about this before? ”Ah, this feels so nice,” she sighs in relief. 

Serin has closed her eyes, so she doesn’t notice the way Baekhyun has gone completely still and quiet. It’s only when she opens her eyes that she realises the weight of her actions. 

His eyes are wide - overwhelmed in awe. His lips are parted and his eyebrows slightly furrowed, like he can’t somehow comprehend that he’s touching her.

Feeling slightly self-conscious, Serin lets go of her grip, but his hand still remains cupping her face, and his stare lingers on her like he’s trying to figure out an enigmatic painting. She gulps when she feels his thumb lightly run across her cheek - a featherlight, gentle touch, though it’s enough to shake Baekhyun out of his trance, and he releases a shaky sigh before he retracts his hand like he had touched something burning. 

”Sorry, I didn’t realise it must feel weird for you to touch a human—”

”It’s okay,” he chimes in. ”I just didn’t expect it. No worries.” 

********

It’s nearing evening, and Serin is currently standing outside the Kim’s residence, waiting for Jongin to come out so they can go and meet the rest of the group by the abandoned house. 

Baekhyun is standing beside her, and his gaze is fixed on the sunset above them; an endless stream of fevered orange layered with a majestic hue of dull magenta, emitting a tranquil light behind the clouds by the horizon. The sun is hiding behind one of them, round and brilliantly orange. 

Jongin doesn’t come out, and Serin isn’t patient enough to stand outside the house for too long. Besides, she has been there a couple of times. She can’t really say she’s best friends with his family, but they know her at least.

She rings on the intercom by the gate to their garden—yes, their residence is that big, there’s three generations worth of family in there—and what sounds like Jongin’s mother answers and lets her in once Serin lets her know who she is. 

Baekhyun halts as the gates open and she enters. He looks a bit unnerved. 

”I…I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go in there.”

Serin frowns. ”Why?” 

”Because they can see me, and they’ll probably say I’m bad—” 

”Stop complaining and come,” she huffs at his antics, and drags him with her. Once they’ve passed the garden and arrived at the traditionally built mansion, Jongin’s mother opens the door for her with a warm smile, though she halts at the sight of Baekhyun, looking mildly horrified. 

”Told you,” he whispers in her ear. 

The woman covers her quivering lips with her hands. ”Oh, no, you poor thing I’m so sorry.” In an instant, her arms have engulfed the girl in a tight embrace, which she awkwardly reciprocates. 

”Honey, did you bring the tea?” Serin hears a voice from inside the house—since the door is still open—and Jongin’s father comes out, reading the situation for a minute or two before realisation dawns on him and he looks at her sadly. ”Poor girl.” 

Baekhyun looks very out of place and to be honest, Serin feels a bit on the spot as well, which is why she emits a long sigh of relief when Jongin finally exits the house with a confused gaze. 

His mother lets finally go of the embrace as her son walks out. ”Why’s there a crowd here?” Jongin asks, but he gets his answer once their eyes meet. His own fall dark and gloomy, a sad frown vesting his features. ”Serin,” he mutters. 

”Oh stop looking like a beat up dog all the time,” Serin complains, ruffling his hair. 

”Did you know about this, son?” His dad asks him. 

”I found out just a few days ago,” he answers. ”There’s nothing we can do, right?” 

This time it’s his mother who speaks. ”I’m afraid not.” 

She feels her heart sink, but