Junhong knows that he is going to die. Of course, everyone is going to die sooner or later, but it’s different for Junhong.

Junhong can see angels. Guardian angels, who follows their human’s every step closely and saves them time and again from accidents and fatality – and death angels, who follows a bit behind the guardian, silently waiting for the day the guardian will retire and they can pounce. Until then, they play a little game with the guardian. Maybe they’ll let their human be a little careless and cross the street without looking properly or maybe they’ll be a little meaner and cause an accident. For the most part, the guardian wins by taking their human under their wings, but it happens that the death angels win as well.

Junhong has no guardian angel. Luckily for him, his death angel is nicer than most and explained al about the things Junhong could see when he was five. Since then, Junhong has learnt to be a lot more careful, since he has no guardian angel to rip him from the claws of death.

“If you’re really careful,” his death angel had told him when he was ten, “I’ll take you under my wings the year you’ll be sixteen.”

Junhong treasured life to its fullest at the same time as he was as careful as one could be. He managed to fulfill his dream of becoming a rapper in a boy group, but time was running out quickly.

He had not expected the complications that would come off living with five other guys. First of all, he’d been stupid enough to fall in love with their leader – who was in love with another band mate of theirs. Junhong knew this, because he’d seen the way the two of them looked at each other. Yet he’d confessed, because it was likely this was the only time in his life it would happen.

“Hyung,” he said, squirming a little nervously. He’d pulled Yongguk aside after practice, telling the others that he needed some leader-maknae advice. “Hyung, I know you like someone else, but I need to tell you… I’m in love with you.”

Shyly he looked up from beneath his newly bleached bangs as Yongguk’s expression softened, became sad. A hand came up to across his cheek and Junhong closed his eyes briefly, reveling in the touch. Treasure everything, no matter how brief it might be – that had been his death angel’s advice and Junhong had taken it to heart.

“I’m sorry, Junhong-ah. Like you said, I like someone else. I’m glad you decided to confide in me despite that,” Yongguk murmured in response, pulling Junhong in for a hug.

Yongguk’s guardian angel was beautiful and strong. Junhong wasn’t worried in the least for Yongguk, because he was pretty certain his guardian would be able to dodge most things thrown his way. Yongguk’s death angel was also pretty idle and weak – Yongguk would live a long, healthy life, Junhong was sure of it.

“Be happy with Himchan-hyung, okay?” Junhong murmured into Yongguk’s chest. The older let out a small, shocked sound and pulled away just enough to be able to meet Junhong’s gaze.

“How did you know?” he asked, but Junhong merely shrugged and smiled.

Yongguk and Himchan came out a few days later and Junhong was the first to congratulate them. Himchan looked a little surprised and Junhong understood that Yongguk had told him about his confession, but he didn’t mind.

At the end of his fifteenth year, Junhong thought it was time to tell his band mates, give them a warning. He’d written a letter that explained everything which he would ask Yongguk to give to his parents, but he thought he owed his hyungs a full explanation from him while he was still alive.

“I’m going to tell you something that sounds totally crazy,” he said once he’d successfully gathered them in the living room. “But you have to believe me, please.”

The five of them promised to believe him no matter what he said – Himchan even joked that he’d believe him if he said he could see ghosts and his dead great great grandmother had come to tell him the secrets she’d brought to the grave. All of them laughed, but Junhong just smiled. It wasn’t that far from the truth after all. When they’d all settled down again, Junhong took a deep breath and fixed his gaze on a spot on the floor as he began talking.

He started by telling them about the angels he’d always seen, but he interrupted himself as they already seemed a little confused.

“Yongguk-hyung for example,” he said, “has a strong guardian angel while his death angel is weak and, well, lazy. He’ll probably live for a while.”

They seemed content with this, happy that their leader would live a long life, but their faces fell when Junhong told them he only had a death angel.

“I… I’m going to die next year,” Junhong said, swallowing as a lump in his throat took him by surprise. “Sixteen years is the longest a death angel can hold off without causing any deaths or accidents. My angel was nice enough to let me live for sixteen entire years.”

He finally looked up from the floor. Youngjae had a hand over his slightly opened mouth and there were tears in Jongup’s eyes. Daehyun seemed unfazed, but Junhong could see how his guardian angel whispered sugar laced words into his ear to keep his panic attack away. Yongguk’s face was paler than Junhong had ever seen it and Himchan wore a pained expression.

“I don’t know when or how it’ll happen, but we have at most a year more together.”

The silence lasted for another few minutes until Jongup burst into tears, sobbing loudly and babbling incoherently about how he didn’t want Junhong to die, he could have his guardian angel, could he please just stay?

“It doesn’t work like that, Jongup-ah,” Junhong murmured as he took his best friends into his arms. “But I can promise you that whatever happens with me after I die – whether I become a guardian or death angel or some other type of angel – I’ll watch over you.”

Jongup let out a wail and held Junhong so hard he could barely breathe. Junhong closed his eyes as he couldn’t hold his tears back anymore either, and let the salty substance fall into Jongup’s hair. Soon all six of them made one big teary heaped as they all tried to hold onto a part of Junhong each and Junhong tried to hold them all at once.

They spoiled him even more after that. They let him eat what he wanted; choose what they’d watch on TV and what they’d do if they had a day off. On a few occasions, Junhong caught the other’s guardian angels smiling sadly at him and even if he couldn’t communicate with them since they weren’t his angels, those smiles told him all about how they’d gladly guard him if they could.

“Will it hurt?” Junhong asked his angel one day when he was alone on the roof of the building. His angel sighed and spread his black wings out even if he was just sitting on the edge, right next to Junhong.

“It will mostly hurt to part from your friends,” he answered, voice deep and rough as always. Death angels voices were made to scare people, but Junhong was used to it. “But yes, it will hurt a little bit. If you want to, I can tell you in your dream that you will die that day.”

“Thank you,” Junhong murmured. “I’m glad you didn’t take me when you were little.”

“I didn’t want to waste such talents,” his angel answered with a dark chuckle. Junhong smiled a little to himself and decided to go back inside.

A few months later, in the beginning of May in his sixteenth year, Junhong dreamt that he died. He woke up covered in a light sheen of sweat, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He went into the kitchen where the others were already having breakfast, but stopped in the doorway before anyone noticed him.

“Should I tell them?” he whispered to his death angel. There was no reply, only a cold hand on his shoulder, but it was enough for Junhong to make a decision.

“Hyungs,” he said as he walked into the kitchen. He was still dizzy and little stars were swimming in his vision, making it difficult for him to focus on anyone’s face as they looked up at him, “Today. I’ll… I’ll die today.”

The stars in his vision became a little fuzzy and he wondered why before something wet and hot ran across his cheek and he realized that he was crying. The cold on his shoulder after the touch of death hadn’t left his skin and it was spreading throughout his body.

“Yongguk-hyung,” he whispered. “Please let me die in your arms?”

The kitchen was still silent as the grave – how ironic – when Yongguk stood up and pulled Junhong into a tight hug. He was crying as well, his tears falling into Junhong’s hair, running along his neck, tickling his quickly cooling skin.

“Of course,” he whispered. Junhong gave a small cough that made his chest hurt and murmured something half-incoherent about being nauseous. Yongguk stayed silent as he slowly led Junhong towards the bathroom.

“Think you’re gonna throw up?” he murmured with a quivering voice as he kneeled in front of the toilet with Junhong in his lap. Junhong let out a little whimper that could mean both yes and no. He wasn’t sure himself and he couldn’t bring his lips to form words.

Moments later, Junhong’s body jerked as his stomach cramped and heaved out its contents – but the liquid that escaped Junhong’s mouth was red. Junhong let out a little cry, both in pain and fear. He thought he’d come to terms with his early death long ago, but he was suddenly so, so scared of dying. He didn’t want to die, he wanted to live!

Yongguk was sobbing into his hair as Junhong threw up once more, his chest and stomach hurting more than Junhong thought possible. Apart from Yongguk’s warm chest against his back, his warm hands around his waist, there were cold fingers his cheek.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” his death angel repeated in a whisper. “I’m so sorry…”

“You’re so cold,” Yongguk murmured in Junhong’s ear. “You’re so cold, Junhong-ah.”

On willpower alone, Junhong managed to turn in Yongguk’s arms and meet his gaze. Yongguk looked sad and scared and tears were continuously escaping his eyes.

“I love you, hyung,” Junhong managed to press out from in between stiff uncooperative lips. Yongguk looked at him before he seemed to take a split second decision and moved in to kiss Junhong.

Maybe he wanted to transfer all of his life to Junhong, the little talented kid with his whole life in front of him, or maybe he just wanted to grant his last wish. Either way it was the last thing Junhong ever felt in his life on Earth and it successfully calmed him enough for death to be able to pull him away.

“If you come along without a fight, you might be able to become one of their guardian angels,” his death angel told him as he held Junhong’s hand in his, dark wings spread out over the two of them.

“Wait,” Junhong pleaded. “I’ll come. Just a second.”

He turned and looked down at his own lifeless body clutched in the arms of a desperately sobbing Yongguk. He smiled a little at the scene despite the ache in his no longer beating heart before he turned around to once more grasp the hand of his death angel. The contact no longer felt cold as Junhong’s skin now had the same temperature as the angel’s.

“Thank you, Bang Yongguk, for letting me die in your arms.”