Serin looks around, her heart clenched and thoughts so intense and so many, it’s suffocating her.

”Baekhyun?” she stammers, and her words echo out towards the horizon, towards the full moon that is casting a beryl light onto the moving surface of the sea, though there is no reply. There’s no that’s me, or here I am, like he would usually say.

She waits, because frankly amid everything, part of his words have flown right through her ear and she doesn’t understand what’s going on, nor why he did what he did. All she knows is that he is gone.

”B-Baekhyun?” Serin’s voice holds a violent tremor to it because there’s no answer. He’s not here. Baekhyun’s not here anymore. And then she calls his name again, and again, and again.

It’s not until she feels a warm hand gently grip her shoulder that Serin realizes her current state; tears flowing uncontrollably, frantic breathing, and her cries must have gotten loud because Jongin looks absurdly concerned.

”Serin, are you okay?! You weren’t coming back, so we got really worried and I thought that— and then I heard you shouting,” he breathes. ”Nevermind. I’m glad you’re alive.”

Serin grabs hold of his shirt, leaning on her friend for support. The warmth he’s radiating gives her shivers. ”Jongin, he’s gone.”

”What? Who is? Baekhyun?”

”He’s gone, I don’t know what happened- he just, he disappeared, Jongin I don’t know what to do, he disappeared, he—”

”Hey, breathe with me, it’s okay,” his hands rub soothing circles on her back, which causes her body to relax slightly, and it’s only then that she realizes just how tense she has been all this time.

Serin sees Seulgi and Jongdae approach them from behind. ”We have to find him, I- he said something about breaking the intermortial link and that it would restore my life span, but I don’t know what that means, Jongin he’s gone!”

”He broke the intermortial link?!”

She halts briefly from her despair, seeking desperately for answers in his alarmed expression. ”I-I don’t know, I think so. Why is that a bad thing? Why do you look like that?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, his eyes flicker to the horizon before them, as wide and shocked as they looked just a second ago as if he has to take a moment to fully understand the weight of her words.

”Jongin,” Serin insists, tightening the grip on his shirt. ”Answer me, what does it mean?”

”I-I’m not sure—”

”Stop lying! What did he do?!”

”Guys, what’s going on?” Jongdae asks once he’s managed to gently ease her death-like grasp on Jongin and pull her away from the poor man. ”Serin, are you okay?”

”It’s Baekhyun,” Jongin mutters.

”What do you mean?” Seulgi asks. ”Where is he?”

”I don’t know for certain how he even managed to do it, the matter is actually far beyond my reach but if it’s really what I think it is, I’m afraid Baekhyun’s not coming back.”

”Bull!” Serin yells. ”It must be some temporary thing, right? Please tell me you’re lying.”

”Jongin, what is she talking about?”

”It’s not, Serin,” her friend sighs softly, and this time the realization pours down onto her. Like the rain, it starts slow; a few mere drops that get easily absorbed in the fabric of her denial. But Jongin’s expression and the clear tone of resignation in his words is what soaks her with cold, raw anguish. It burns on her cheeks and it presses down on her chest, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing she can do about it. There’s nothing Serin can do to have him back.

”Baekhyun won’t return.”

Summer rain. Lots and lots of it. It grazes the windows of her room with violence, demanding to erupt. It comes with a gigantic wave of humidity – and while it’s something that isn’t uncommon for the town, it feels particularly uncomfortable this time. Her body sticks to her mattress, and a few strands of hair are glued to her face.

It’s been three days, and the rain has never stopped.

Three days since it started, and three days since Baekhyun disappeared.

Serin hasn’t had much contact with the outer world other than two visits from Jongdae and Seulgi, who look extremely concerned every time they see her emotionless frown, which to be fair, she can’t blame them for. While the events of the festival are still unclear, both of them were crushed by the news of Baekhyun’s sudden disappearance, though Serin didn’t miss the glint of relief behind their downturned lips and saddened eyes. She knows damn well why they are relieved too – it’s because they know that while Baekhyun might be gone, it means Serin’s life span is restored, and that she’ll live. It’s funny because she’s supposed to be relieved at the news, even happy perhaps. Getting to do what she finally wants, is what it signifies. Go to university, travel around the world, get married, get a proper job, and most important of all, see Sehun wake up. And yet, the thought does not soothe her at all.

Because yes, she’s still alive. But all in all, she feels like she’s been left behind. Like Baekhyun has strived towards a path without telling her, leaving her standing at the bus stop, waiting and waiting for him to come back, despite knowing deep down that he won’t.

Serin has been left behind.

And that thought remains with her throughout the three days of constant, heavy rain. Auntie Eunjung’s attempts at comfort didn’t work much at first, but it didn’t take long for Serin to finally break and tell her everything, from start to finish. And there too, Serin still wishes to have seen the sorrowful look drape over her features, but much like her friends, auntie seems relieved more than anything else.

Good lord, is she the only one sad over his disappearance?

It’s Monday morning now, and a sharp knock resounds across her room, causing her to jolt up in a sitting position. It’s not Eunjung, her knocks are a lot less harsh than that.

It’s Jongin.

Serin recognizes this firstly by the rhythmic pattern of his knocks – which is the same every time he knocks on a door, and her suspicions get confirmed when the door opens and the male steps in with a backpack hanging by his left shoulder.

”Hey,” he says. ”I brought you some stuff.”

Jongin plops down on the floor right in front of her and starts digging in his backpack until he takes out a thermos, and a small container filled with grapes – her favorite fruit.

He knows her well. Too well.

”I brought you some fruit, and the herbal tea my mother does that you love so much.”

”Thank you,” she mumbles quietly. ”I don’t feel so hungry though.”

He raises an unamused eyebrow. ”That wasn’t a suggestion,” he says in a no-nonsense tone. ”Take one.”

When Serin doesn’t answer, the latter sighs softly – he realizes that he might have sounded a bit too rude, and gives her a small smile.

”Please? Auntie says you haven’t been eating well at all.”

His plead makes her soften a tad bit, and she opens the container, caving in as she pops a grape in between her lips and gives one to Jongin.

Then they’re swept by a wave of silence – a comfortable one. Serin feels ironically dead inside, so there isn’t much she wants to say.

But even so, a part of her still clings onto the hope that there might still be a way to bring him back. There has to be away.

Which is what prompts her to say; ”Have you spoken to your family about what happened?”

His eyes widen in confusion, though his posture soon relaxes in realization and his eyes darken in a river of emotions she doesn’t quite catch.

”I haven’t,” Jongin admits. ”They didn’t like the fact that I hung out with you in the first place, especially not gramps. He said it was extremely bad luck to associate myself with a guide, something about that it might attract an early death or whatever. I just— Baekhyun did make a choice, Serin. And he knew the consequences.”

”Without my consent!” she counters. ”I don’t care if he made a choice, he left this world without even fulfilling his regret. He’s not even in heaven right now, he’s just…in some void, or whatever.”

”And yet he still chose to save you. Can’t that be enough for you?”

”How can you say that?” Serin gasps. She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand why he’s so calm about this. ”Don’t you care about him? Aren’t you sad that he’s gone?!”

”I am!” Jongin sighs. ”But you’re my best friend, and I would have been more crushed to see you go. I’m not happy with Baekhyun’s choice, but I sure as hell am grateful, and you should be too.”

She shakes her head in disdain, feeling tears prickle her eyes. ”Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. He left so suddenly, without even considering my feelings. I didn’t even get to give him a proper goodbye, I need him back.”

He blinks twice and looks away briefly, his lips before he tilts his head backward in resignation. ”You have to respect his choice. What if he doesn’t want to come back?”

”I don’t care!” Serin yells. ”Can’t you just ask your relatives and see if there’s something we can do? Anything?”

”Why should I do that? It’s no use—”

”Because I can’t live without him!”

She takes a deep, shaky breath, as her words take their time to fully settle in. They came from a place deep within her heart, a place she has kept locked away and ignored this whole summer. A feeling, to be exact. And now, it has exploded in her face because there’s nothing to nurture it anymore.

Jongin doesn’t say anything, but his shocked expression tells her that he hadn’t been expecting that. Then, his expression falls and another emotion sweeps through him—visibly. He slumps back by his seat on the floor, and looks away briefly, before gazing up at her again. And then she sees it – hurt, and perhaps realization too.

”You’re in love with him,” he states quietly, and Serin feels her heart jump.

She hasn’t thought about it – but Jongin is right. Serin, the world's number one ing has fallen in love with a dead person.

”I—” she doesn’t know what to say, frankly. No? Yes? Either way, they both know he’s right, so there’s no use in denying it. ”And what if I am?”

Jongin nods, plastering a fake smile.

”What?” she asks.

”Nothing,” he shakes his head, gets up on his feet, and grabs the backpack from the floor.

”Where are you going?”

”At Seulgi’s, I promised to help her babysit her brothers,” she can sense that it’s a lie, but she doesn’t press him about it, though the way he has turned around to make her face his back tells her something’s wrong, and that he doesn’t want to tell her what it is. On any other occasion, his secretiveness would have hurt, because they’re best friends, but right now, all she can think of is the hurtling pit of grief that has been bubbling up for the past days, and if she doesn’t do something about it now, Serin fears she might explode.

”Are you going to talk to your family?”

Jongin remains still and spares her a brief glare before he stalks for the door. ”I’ll come to visit again soon, take care of yourself.”

Serin opens to complain, but she halts once her eyes catch a movement at the corner of her room, and she feels her entire body freeze in terror. ”Jongin.”

He sighs. ”What?”

Her eyes remain on the small figure that’s currently situated at the corner of the door, a mere distance from where Jongin is standing. ”There’s a child sitting right beside you.”

A frown distorts his features, and he spares a survey around the room. ”What are you talking about? I don’t see anything.”

”How can you not—” she stops as soon as the child moves. It seems to be a boy – his hair is black, and his eyes are droopy, kind of familiar actually. He gets up on his feet and runs towards her balcony, shouting something inaudible, almost as if he’s talking to someone. He doesn’t seem to take notice her. In fact, he might not even see her at all. It’s not a tormentor. It can’t be. Otherwise Jongin would see it.

”He just moved to the balcony. How can you, out of all people not see it? He- he’s right there!”

”Serin, I don’t see anything.”

”I-I think it’s a ghost, I’m not sure though.”

”That’s not possible, why can’t I see it then?” Jongin seems concerned, and Serin understands him because one, she doesn’t get who it is, what he’s doing here, and why the latter can’t see it and two, she is absolutely terrified by it.

”He’s talking to someone, wait—” the child runs through the balcony door and Serin follows in a desperate search for answers.

She doesn’t find any. Instead, she finds the unforgivingly cold rain soaking her clothes, though she doesn’t put much thought to it. It’s almost like the background has melted away, and the only thing she can see, the only thing Serin can percieve, is the little boy who’s sitting by the corner of the balcony, playing with a small toy ball. If only she can reach and touch him—

A pair of strong arms pull her back and into her room again, and Jongin shuts the balcony doors harshly before turning to her. He looks angry, but most of all he looks scared. Really, really scared.

”Are you insane?!” He yells. ”You were about to jump out of the balcony had I not stopped you, good God,” underneath the stern vibrating tone of his voice, Serin can hear the slight tremor and concern, and it makes her realise what she has done.

Just what has possesed her to do this?

”But I…” she lets out a ragged breath due to her wet state. ”The child, I—”

A soft sigh escapes Jongin’s lips as he puts his arms around her and rubs soothing circles in between her shoulder blades, erupting a wave of consoling warmth that spreads like a warm shiver down her spine, and she never gets to complete her sentence. As a consequence, Serin automatically leans into his warm touch, desperate for comfort. Any type of it, really. And comfort was something her best friend was really good at.

”We’re going to have to do something about this,” he mutters.

It’s around noon, and Serin looks around the shoreline to where the abandoned house lays, and the weight of the humidity today is practially palpable, and so is the sensation of the thousands of sand grains that crunch beneath her mass. It’s strange, because Serin can the heat of the sun crawl under skin. She doesn’t know how or why she’s here, but she knows it’s the right place. For what, one might ask. Serin has no clue.

But then she hears a small voice shout behind her. When she turns around, she finds it is the same boy she had seen in her room just a couple of hours prior. He’s in the same position as he was by the balcony; leaning by his ball and shouting at someone that seemed to be standing behind her. This time, his voice is audible.

”Kyungsoo! Come here and look at this tiny crab I found in the sand!”

Suddenly, there is a rush of air, and a small boy runs straight through her, causing the girl to let out a staggering gasp. And suddenly, a feeling of immense dread overtakes her. The children smile to each other, though the one with rounder features points towards the sand and says; ”that’s a hermit crab, not a crab dumbo.”

It’s almost as if she’s watching the scene from afar, yet at the same time she is in it. But all in all, something tells her that she should not be here, like she is intruding in something she has no part in. It’s an emotion that takes over and rises up in a speed unexpected, until it feels suffocating.

But nothing could have prepared her for when the boy with the ball suddenly stops smiling, like he’s thinking, or realising something. Time seems to go in slow motion as his gaze slowly travels from his friend, up to the sky, and then fastens on her. Not through her. On her.

He can see her.

And then Serin jolts awake, heaving for breath. Her entire body is laced with sweat, and the grevious sensation of cold, raw dread remains buried deep within her. It feels like her heart has been sliced open to bleed right out on her bed, but there’s no way to stop the bleeding. And the worst part is that she can’t understand why she’s feeling like this. Why the image of that boy makes her cry so much, why the memory of that dream—if it even was one that is—feels so distressing.

Serin can’t breathe, can’t comprehend and can’t fall back asleep again.

She’s alive, though. Burning, but she’s alive.

”Serin!” Auntie Eunjung’s voice originating from downstairs echo through the wooden walls of her room. ”There are guests for you, please be kind and come down!”

For a minute she actually debates whether to ignore everyone and everything and stay in her room, but the thought that those guests are probably her concerned friends is what convinces her to get up from her corner of pity and head downstairs towards the living room.

As expected, Jongin, Seulgi and Jongdae are sitting with a cup of tea in their hands on the flower patterned sofa, and Serin prepares to greet them, but her voice dies down in once she catches sight of another figure sitting beside Jongin.

It’s an old man, probably around his late seventies, and his sharp jawline and glaring eyes tells her it’s none other than his grandfather. But, what is he doing here, at her aunt’s house? Jongin never fails to mention how he’s more or less the leader of the family residence given he has the longest experience within the field of afterlife, and how unbearable intimidating he is—which looking at him now like this, seems like an exceptionally fair assumption.

Eunjung puts down the teapot and gestures for her to sit down. ”There you are! Your friends told me about what happened with Baekhyun, I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

Serin’s forehead almost crashes against a dreamcatcher that’s hanging from the cieling as she wordlessly takes a seat beside Seulgi. She spares an apologetic glance in her aunt’s direction, trying to tell her that she doesn’t really want to talk about it.

Jongin is the one who starts speaking after a brief moment of silence. ”You asked me to speak with my family, and I did. Gramps wanted to speak face to face to you so…”

”Your guide broke the intermortial link is what I’m hearing. Is that correct?” the old man cuts straight to the point, merely sparing her a strict glance before picking up his cup of tea.

”Yeah,” she breathes. ”I- he didn’t even fulfill his regret before leaving. He didn’t even tell me what it was.”

”The young lad is in the void then.”

”Void?” Jongdae repeats. ”What’s that?”

”A warp in timespace created by the billions of intermortial links that connect every guide around the world to its passer,” Jongin’s grandfather explains. ”You can’t move on to heaven if your life on earth isn’t fully finished, and it doesn’t do so until your very last regret or wish is concluded, whether you’re dead or alive. If one still manages to leave earth before this – like in your case, their souls will automatically wander in that warp endlessly.”

”What’s in the void anyway?” Seulgi grabs a sugar cube and lets it fall down in her tea.

”The word makes it pretty clear, young miss.” he rasps. ”In a void, there’s nothing. It is like gazing into a pitch black room for eternity. It’s just you and your thoughts.”

”Well,” despite everything, Serin still finds herself insisting even when she knows very well what the answer to her question will be. She can’t help it – if she can cling onto the very last sliver of hope, she’s willing to do so. ”If he got in, it means there must be a way out, no? Certainly we can bring him back and—”

”And what?” Jongin’s grandather raises an expectant eyebrow, resembling his grandson almost too much. ”Have him spend the rest of his days here? Do you really think it’s better for him? Watch life pass by until it breaks his spirit and he turns into a tormentor? He belongs more in the void than he does in the world of the living. The lad made a choice, an irrevokable one. Once broken, the intermortial link cannot be mended. There is no way to bring him back and there is no reason to do it either.”

Serin bites her lip, feeling her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. He’s right. Even if Baekhyun does come back, it wouldn’t make anything better because at the end of the day, he’s still dead. She has even seen it with her own eyes – how painful it is to be invisible to a large portion of the population, to endlessly spend your days on a place where you once belonged, but that you can never go back to again. ”But he can’t just wander there alone like that, there has to be something we can do for him!”

”You should be grateful of what he did for you. You’re lucky nothing serious happened. The intermortial link is a very complicated subject that has many nuances, and breaking it may cause irrevokable damages to your thread of life. It seems as if you will for the most part be okay—other than the fact that you’ll be able to see spirits for the rest of your life—and that is only because God let all of this happen for a reason.”

”And what reason would that be?”

”Baekhyun!” Seulgi clasps her hands together in realisation.

”I like this one, she’s intuitive,” the old man elbows Jongin, who looks