Archive of Our Own

I. Of Endings and Beginnings

“According to the Greek Mythology, humans were originally born with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus splits them into two separate beings, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”

-Plato’s The Symposium

At first there is a story. A person almost always has one and often, people are remembered by their stories.

This story starts with a beginning because all stories, no matter how good or bad it is, has a beginning.

In the beginning there is Jimin and Yoongi. These are names. And in every story available in the infinities of the universe, these two names always comes along. Maybe not at the same time but in the end, they are always meant to be together. Sometimes their names may not be present, but their souls do and that’s the only thing that matters. Yoongi and Jimin happens as naturally as their love for each other blossoms whenever they meet.

Jimin loves Yoongi and Yoongi lives to be with his only love. It’s not the order of the universe per se or the law that should be abided. It’s just how it is.

At the start, it was no forbidden love. They are together and they live happily.

It was not a grand romantic love story for them but rather a collection of small, perfect events among a hundred average moments. They chose to treasure the times that they are together no matter how mediocre it may seem to other people.

For the two, it was the best time of their lives whenever they are together.

Being with someone you love can both be fleeting as the changing of the seasons or unbearably long at the same time. Love can defy the laws of time like that. It can bend and twist or turn. Time has only one law: that it will continue its flow no matter how euphoric your happiness or how big your suffering is. It escapes no one.

Some people will tell them that it’s unfair how Yoongi and Jimin found each other so easily and how they make marriage look easy when for other couples it’s an everyday struggle. But that is never unfair for Yoongi. It’s just what’s right for the two of them.

Yoongi will tell you what unfair is. When Jimin’s smile starts waning in his effort to conceal the pain of his ailing. When at the young age of 25, Jimin will have to always stay at home rather than enjoy the sun because he is too ill to go outside. When Yoongi has to look the other way whenever Jimin secretly cries at night, muffling the sound with the sheets. When in the mornings, he’ll have to pretend he never heard a thing and smile as his husband greets him cheerily like nothing bad happened—or is still happening. When every conversation sound like goodbye lately.

What’s most unfair is when the last respectable doctor in town no, the whole nation, slides the door to Jimin’s quarters shut with a grim expression on his face. The doctor will catch Yoongi’s eyes and shake his head. Yoongi will not ask how long Jimin has left because it doesn’t matter, they both know it’s not much. Instead, Yoongi will ask the doctor for one vial. Many will argue of the right term to call it. Poison or medicine. Yoongi chooses to call it his last hope. The doctor will deny it at first but he will look at Yoongi’s eyes and see a man that’s already dying. The doctor gives it to him and Yoongi is forever thankful. Life is never fair but during times like these, Yoongi finds some small reprieve in the form of the doctor’s pity from the never-ending suffering.

•

“Promise me you’ll live a long, happy life when I’m gone,” Jimin tells him. They are both sitting under the shade of a mango tree, enjoying the warm breeze until it lasts. Autumn is fast approaching and they are spending their days outside as much as they can.

Yoongi does not answer. When it comes to promises, Jimin is always the better one of them to uphold it.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mutters and chose to grasp Jimin’s hand instead. It’s even paler and thinner than his now. Gone is the honeydew skin he has always loved seeing and caressing. Yoongi hates it. But Jimin is still here beside him and that’s all that matters.

Jimin tuts at him, not amused with his husband’s stinginess. They both know why that is. Earlier that morning, Jimin starts coughing with blood coming away from his handkerchief.

“You know what they always say about humans having four lives right, Yoongi?”

He knows. Since he was a child, he had always heard the elders say it. The first life is for planting of the seeds, the next one for watering them, the third for harvesting and the last life for cherishing your harvests.

Yoongi thinks it’s a silly belief. Or at least he used to but right now he wishes that Jimin and he moved on to their next life where his love is healthy and happy.

The older sighs. “I’d like to believe it’s our first life together.”

“I wish the same as well. That means we’ll meet three more times. And we’ll fall in love again and again. How happy the thought of falling in love with you more than once,” Jimin pauses to plant a kiss on Yoongi’s cheeks. Both of them because it’s unfair that only one cheek gets a kiss, according to the younger. “What’s a few years with me gone for three more lifetimes together?”

So this is what it is about. Jimin wants Yoongi to feel better about him leaving first. What Jimin will never understand is that a few years is an eternity without him.

It’s easier to say goodbye for him because Jimin will not be the one left alone and live without the love of his life.

“A few years will be very a long time for me, Jimin. You know that,” he answers instead.

“Come on now. You’re stronger than me, Yoongi. I promise to prepare the softest and most comfortable bed when we see each other again in heaven.”

Heaven is the last thing on his mind. Hell is all Yoongi can ever imagine at the thought of his husband dead.

Jimin starts wiping his cheeks.

“What…”

“You’re crying, my love,” the younger supplies with a sigh.

He sniffles. “Then make me happy.” Live a little longer for me, Jimin.

Jimin smiles and Yoongi could die at how beautiful his husband’s smile looks like without the pain behind his eyes. “Then I’ll give you flowers,” Jimin says. They separate for a while as he allows Jimin to walk the short distance at the meadow where there’s an abundance of blooming flora. He comes back carrying ones with white petals and yellow center, several of them bunched up at his tiny adorable fists.

Jimin’s steps are laborious and slow but they both ignored it. Yoongi makes no move of helping the other walk because he knows the younger will not allow him. Instead, Yoongi waits.

“Here you go. Flowers for you.”

Yoongi takes it reverently with his hands. “What are these supposed to mean?”

Jimin giggles, the sound eternally melodious to his ears. A sound he’ll hunt monsters for to hear forever. “They’re just flowers. They don’t have to mean anything. But since it came from me, it means I love you and I want you to be happy always, Yoongi.”

For the first time since he saw blood on Jimin’s handkerchief, Yoongi smiles. A genuine one. “You’re hopeless, Jimin. They’re called daisies. But since we’re inventing flower meanings now, here you go.” He picks up one daisy from the pile by its stem and carefully inserts it at the crook of Jimin’s ear. It looks pretty. The flower, that is. Jimin though, looks beautiful as always. “That one means I love you too, Jimin. Always and forever.”

His husband beams at him, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks adorably. “Oh what’s that?” he then says as he places a hand at his ear. “I think it’s also saying that Yoongi wants a kiss on the cheek as a thank you.”

Catching on, he pouts and plays his husband’s little game. “Oh I think you’re wrong. I think it says both cheeks.”

Jimin giggles again. “As you wish, my love.”

And Yoongi allows him to do just that. Because when it comes to Jimin, Yoongi will allow everything. Even if it means breaking his heart the moment his husband succumbs to his disease.

•

That night Yoongi wakes up to the sound of Jimin’s intense coughing. It was so violent that the smaller’s body shook with every effort to catch his breath. He had to sit as his tiny frame rocks with each cough.

He helps the younger get settled on the bed again, Jimin smiling gratefully at him as he lies down beneath the smooth and pristine white sheets. While holding his husband’s arms, he feels the gentle, pitter-patter of Jimin’s pulse. It’s very weak but it’s still there.

“Do you want some water?” Yoongi offers but he’s already halfway out of their bed to get it.

Jimin smiles at him sadly and there’s something about it that sends shivers down Yoongi’s spine. “Please do. Just a little to wet my lips,” he answers in a rough voice. Before Yoongi can go away further, Jimin tugs at his robe weakly. “I love you Yoongi. You know that right?”

His hands starts shaking, a slight tremor overtaking his system. “I know Jimin.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” Jimin sighs. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

“For the water?” Yoongi quips.

Jimin did not answer, just smiles again in that sad way that continues to make the heaviness in his throat constrict his breathing.

Yoongi nods and did not look back once when he starts for the kitchen. Mechanically, he reaches for a glass and fills it with water. Just half the glass because he knows Jimin cannot drink it when it’s full. It took longer than necessary because his hands are shaking too much that the water kept spilling on the sides.

When he comes back in the bed, Jimin’s eyes are closed like he’s sleeping.

Yoongi knows he’s not. His husband’s chest remains still when it should be moving.

He could imagine the exact time Jimin drew his last breath or he could not. He can grant himself some small mercy and not do that torture to himself.

They both expected for it to happen. That’s why Jimin did not refuse the water when he knew he will not be able to drink it. He asked Yoongi to walk away from the bedroom for a reason.

The couple have talked about it for so long that when it finally happened, a small part of Yoongi still believes this isn’t real.

When the trembling of his hands stopped, he properly covers Jimin with their blankets. Yoongi cards his fingers through his hair before placing a soft kiss against Jimin’s forehead. It’s still a little warm.

“I’m sorry, Jimin but I’m going to have to break that promise. I can never live a life without you, my heaven.”

Yoongi climbs in the bed and lies beside Jimin, making himself comfortable. Yoongi pats the small pocket in his robe, searching for a particular pouch. In his pouch a vial and in the vial a liquid which holds another promise. To be with his love again. In another time. Another place. Anywhere but here where Jimin’s hands are starting to get cold.

Yoongi uncaps the vial, drinks its contents and closes his eyes.

It’s not the soft and comfortable bed Jimin had promised but at least in this one, they are still together.

At the end of this particular story, Jimin and Yoongi lies beside each other.

It’s the end of the beginning of another story though. Perhaps one will argue that it’s the beginning of another story or even the middle but no one really knows the specifics because time and stories are both tricky things alone and when placed together, it’s the most confusing of things to analyze.

Yoongi will not remember this but several moments after closing his eyes, there is a light. A light so intense he had forgotten that the opposite of it even exists. With the light also comes a voice. There was no need to ask whose voice it was or why he is there, only the knowledge that he is exactly where he should be, talking with this particular nameless voice.

The voice may have said something or asked a question. Yoongi’s response was, “I do not wish to live in a time or place where there is no Jimin.”

“You wish to see him again, then?”

“Yes,” comes the quick and resolute reply.

Silence and then a distant rumbling. It shakes the ground where Yoongi stands. “Then you shall live many lives with him on it.”

Yoongi feels grateful because it’s all that he’s ever wanted.

“How about this one?” the voice asks.

“This one?” Yoongi parrots and before he can even blink he’s at their bedroom again where Jimin lies dead. It looks like their bed but at the same time it’s not because everything is still so bright. Yoongi then understood the question. “What’s the point? Life without him beside me is useless to me. Even looking at him now is still painful.”

Another considerable silence. A butterfly comes out of nowhere and rests itself at the top of Jimin’s forehead. Yoongi imagines it’s the exact spot where he last kissed his husband.

“I will show you mercy and take away your memories of this life. I wish you no pain, my child and this will be my grace to you.”

And thus the start of the story of the grim reaper. The one that defied the laws of his world not because he ran away from death but because he chased life. One particular life whose name and face the grim reaper cannot even remember.  

Part 1: The Best of Words

“And in the end we were all just humans… drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.”

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

The card in the grim reaper’s hand is thick and familiar. At the center, it is embossed with a single flower. He does not know its name. But inside the card is another name. The only one he needs for this particular job.

Kim Songhee. Age: 84. Cause of Death: Natural cause.  

No. 13 has all the information that he needs. He has already fetch the soul indicated in the card. For the nice lady that chatted with him a little bit as he lets the tea leaves steep, No.13 makes a chamomile drink. For a peaceful sleep. Kim Songhee was a good woman and has lived a good life. The deity will reward her with another life and while waiting for it, a deep and untroubled slumber.

All things considering, Songhee’s children loved her despite leaving her in a nursing home to spend her days. Songhee related to the grim reaper how she insisted it to her children because there is some dignity in dying in her own terms and without her children seeing how hard it is to even breathe sometimes. No. 13 likes How Songhee put it that way because somehow, he agrees.

Those are the things running on his mind as he silently walks the hallway of the facility. There is no need to be so cautious since no one will see him anyway. No mortals will as long as the grim reaper’s hat is on.

He stops when he saw one door at the end of the corridor partially open. He is used with the concept of this facilities long enough to know that at this time, all doors should be closed so as the elderly have their long if not peaceful slumber. They all need it for more energy the next day.

Before he knows what he’s doing, his feet is already leading him towards the said room. Inside, the room looks exactly like the person whose soul he had just assisted in the afterlife minutes ago. It was the same except for the sketches and paintings attached all over the walls.

The grim reaper takes his time observing some of them. Most of it are self-portrait. A woman with kind eyes and a sad smile. The subject is identical in all the drawings and yet no two pictures are the same. Somehow, No. 13 gets the feeling that this signals some sort of an identity crisis for the illustrator’s part in which she cannot recognize herself completely. But then again, what mortal ever does? It was the way she could not exactly decide what to reflect on her eyes when it always comes out the same way anyways, mournful and searching. Always with longing.

Finally, he turns his head to the open window, where the subject of the drawings is sitting with an easel in front of her. The canvas this time is colored. It shows of a boy with a mop of blond hair looking at a window. A different one since it’s a room that looks homier. In the painting, everything is tinged blue except for the boy’s golden locks.

Something tugs at No. 13’s heart while looking at the figure seated in the painting. He draws closer to inspect it some more when the woman who owns the room starts with his movement. It was as if she was lost in her own world with every brush stroke of her painting and is only awoken when someone dares disturb the sanctity of the space where she is creating a picture of this unknown yet familiar boy.

He does not know what gave him away exactly when no mortal should be able to see him when he chose not to be seen.

Astonishingly, the woman looks him straight in the eyes. If she’s surprised that there’s a man clad in all black standing at her own room in the middle of the night, she gives no indication of it.

Instead, she looks relieved and almost…happy?

“I knew you were real,” she whispers with a sigh. No. 13 blinks at her, stunned. “Come sit, young man. I’m so glad to finally see you in the flesh instead of my dreams.”

In very rare instances, a mortal can see a grim reaper. First, when the grim reaper takes his hat off to be seen as a normal person in the living world and second when the grim reaper wants to be seen by the soul he’s about to take.

No. 13 has only one card on his hand and it was Songhee’s but it’s not entirely impossible that another grim reaper with this woman’s card is on its way.

This woman in front of him has not very much long to live.

Comforted by this knowledge, the grim reaper gingerly sits at the bed and humors the woman as he takes his hat off to see his surroundings more clearly.  

She smiles at this, the crow’s feet at her eyes showing years of doing the same gesture by the depth of its grooves. He doesn’t know what to do under such smile. It’s not exactly bright but it’s blinding him. He fights the urge to utter his usual spiel as a grim reaper. No. This soul is not his to take.

“You look the same as ever, Yoongi. Tell me, have you kept your promise?” she asks, voice gentle as she turns back to her painting. She starts sketching the beginnings of a cactus plant at the table in front of the boy whose back is turned against it.  He is mildly disappointed that the figure in the canvas will never be able to turn his back and show its face to No. 13.

He remembers that the painter just spoke and by mortal standards, it his turn to let the conversation going.

Hold on. Did she just call him Yoongi?

That’s odd. Grim reapers don’t have names. They’re stripped off their identities because they don’t need them to do their single task: Fetch souls, sort them out, and guide them towards their next lives.

Nevertheless, the name Yoongi does not hold any meaning to him. This woman must be mistaking her for someone she used to know. A soul that is about to meet its end is a volatile thing after all.

“That’s a really nice painting there,” he chose to offer instead. Using his voice is quite uncomfortable if not for the roughness of the quality he observed while uttering the words. He does not speak to many mortals after all. Even with Songhee, No. 13 just let her do all the talking while he prepares her tea.

She hums, focusing at the canvas for a while. “Another one from my dreams. I’m not sure if this one’s real but he’s all I ever dream about these days. You, though,” she pauses to stare at No. 13 again. “I knew you were real. You re a constant in my dreams because he loves you very much. He cares for you so dearly that I sometimes wake up crying for your name.”

He’s starting to get really confused because of how certain the woman sounded with what she’s stating. Her words seems as absolute as the earth revolving around the sun. He has no idea who Yoongi is or who loves him very much but even the mention of those names is making his head spin with thoughts he didn’t knew have always been trying to break the walls of his minds.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember, Yoongi. I heard him once said that he may not always remember you but he will always love you.” Yoongi brings a hand up, signaling for her to stop talking for just one second because he’s getting too dizzy. But she wouldn’t just stop. “His name is Jimin. Remember? He calls you Yoongi.”

Jimin.

A moment of clarity passes over him and then such immense pain. The sadness overflows from his very being, reaching every part of his body that he had to tightly clutch his chest in an effort to keep himself together. He was only informed that he’s crying as well when big teardrops starts staining his coat. How horrible. No. 13 never cried before. Not even when he had to take care of the soul of an infant. The tears are absorbed immediately by the material of his ink-black coat and it’s like they never landed there at all.

“Hush now, young man. Don’t cry. He will hate to see you sad,” the woman says in her unbearably gentle voice but when he looks up blearily, it was to see that the painter is welling up as well.

This really is all very odd.

“Who are you?” he manages to choke out as another stab at his chest flares up his insides.

She smiles sadly. The same one reflected at her drawings and with that image it’s as if there are more than one person giving No. 13 the same melancholic expression.  Several different versions of the same painter smiling sadly at his question. “My name is not important. But you should remember his. And never forget that he loves you very much.”

There’s a knock on the door and No. 13 manages to scramble for his hat before an orderly swings her head in.

“Is everything all right with you, dear?” a tall woman with severe features but kind eyes asks the painter.

She blinks, looks at the bed where No. 13 was previously in and stares past it. He knows she can still see him but she merely shrugs as if she’s already satisfied with the information she parted the grim reaper with.

“Yes. Everything is all right,” she answers, turning her back against her door and continuing with her painting.

The orderly peeks inside and her face twists in pain as she observes the drawings. It seems like it’s not the first time they had seen the woman toiling the night with her sketches and paints.

“Come on now, dear. It’s lights out. You know you should be sleeping right now,” she scolds gently.

The woman sighs before dropping her hands to the side, disappointed. She picks up her things wordlessly and when the orderly was satisfied that she won’t be working with her painting anytime soon, she retreats a little and then paused to ask something. “Were you talking with someone earlier? I thought I heard a man’s voice here for a moment.”

The painter hums, not denying it. “Yes. Just someone very dear to me.”

The orderly shakes her head as the answer registers. She will chalk this up as another one of the patient’s episodes. No one will blame her, after many nights of being woken up at ungodly hours over the patient’s wracking sobs about a lost love and a regretful life.

When the tall woman finally closes the door, No. 13 stands up and motions for her to rest on her bed.

She smiles and thanks the grim reaper. “Thank you, young man. I have a feeling that I will want to lie in bed when your colleague comes here.”

She’s not wrong. It won’t be long now. No. 13 can see her life ebbing away slowly, an effervescent thing. The soul of this old woman.

But he stays because he has one request. “May I touch you?” The woman looks at her curiously as she smoothens the blanket over her chest. “I want to see who you’re talking about.”

She smiles then and nods even when she does not understand what a grim reaper touching a mortal implies. “Go ahead.”

There’s a reason why a grim reaper is careful with their clothes, making sure every inch possible for human contact is covered. A single touch to a mortal will show a glimpse of their past lives as well as their present one. It’s a tedious thing, seeing such pain, happiness and sorrow with a simple graze of the skin. It drains you, even if you’re a grim reaper, to see what mortals should never see in one lifetime.

They were both silent when No. 13 carefully takes off the leather glove in his right hand. The woman has resigned to sleeping for now, telling him earlier that he should do what he needs to do when he’s ready.

He touches the painter’s forehead, like one would do when checking someone’s temperature. And when he did, comes the blur of images of the woman’s life.

As a child, she used to be a very bright girl, all smiles and giggles to her friends and family. Ever since she was a little girl, she loves drawings. Faces of two men, one with cat like eyes and one with a bright smile. The parents don’t know this people that their child keeps on drawing repeatedly. They start to get worried. Then comes the bombardment of dreams, one she doesn’t understand but wakes up crying just the same, mourning for the boy she used to be and the lover she never met but remembers nonetheless. No. 13 watches the different hospitals she have been institutionalized, the doctors resigned in explaining to her parents that they couldn’t do anything with the memories. No, dreams stuck in her head. Not one doctor really ever believed the painter that it was memories she keeps visiting on her dreams. Her parents will cry and they’ll eventually give up until the painter is confined lastly here where she will grow old. She will resort to paintings as an outlet for the sorrow of not being allowed to live freely just because she remembers snippets of her last one.

However, she is content because in one of her dreams she knows that she will see the man she only imagined witnessing in the flesh before she dies.

Another lone tear escapes No. 13’s eyes without his knowing. His hand remains on the painter’s head.

This is just her second life and there’s only one past life to see.

The first thing he sees is a boy. Chubby cheeks, hooded eyes, pouty lips. A smile so bright that the sun envies its shine.

“You look like a kitty, Yoongi!”

“Yoonie hyung, do you like me too?”

“Hyung? It’s okay. I’m here for you. We’ll get this through together.”

His breath hitches when he saw the boy as a young man, so ethereal in what he can only describe as clothes of a royal. A prince or perhaps a king. He knows that face. It’s absurd that he even forgot about it when he knew deep in his very bones that he will recognize that face when he saw it. He’s looking at it right now. Same fluffy cheeks, eyes turning into crescent moons when he smiles, thick pillowy lips tinted red. And if it’s even possible, a smile that is even brighter. It’s just a memory, but No. 13 is still blinded by it.

“Yes, silly! Of course I’ll marry you Yoongi!”

“Don’t be absurd. You’ll always be my Yoongi. There are no other options because you’re my only one.”

“This is just a cold. I promise I’ll be fine, Yoongi. Now stop worrying and kiss me.”

There’s a recurring name here and he’s starting to understand what the painter means. Of how the boy with the pretty smile loves this Yoongi very much.

“What are you doing here, No. 13 sunbaenim?”

His head snaps to the door, eyes wide open and cheeks slightly damp from the tears he didn’t know kept flowing. He snatches his hand away from the warm forehead. He looks at the painter to check if she’s awake but it turns out her eyes are already open too. She didn’t even glance at the newcomer as her gaze remains on No. 13 only. It’s like she can’t look away too.

She takes Yoongi’s gloved hand as if she knows that the grim reaper wouldn’t be able to take it this time if he’s bombarded by another set of memories of her past life again. “Your name is Yoongi. Remember that. You will always be Yoongi,” she says in a low voice, sudden urgency taking over her as she becomes more animated. “And his name is Jimin. That’s all you need to know.”

Yoongi. That’s the name he always call for. That boy loves Yoongi.

“Jimin,” he whispers back. The woman nods with a smile. A happy one. It looks familiar and beautiful on her face. Looking at it now, he can see the similarities with the boy in the past. Shame fills No. 13 that he even doubted the painter’s words of knowing him.

Jimin. His name hurts. It hurts to think, to hear and to say. But he doesn’t regret remembering it. It’s more familiar than Yoongi, the man he’s supposed to be.

“Really? What’s going on?” the recently arrived grim reaper asks, quite puzzled. The senior grim reaper believes he’s No. 43. A newbie. “Did I went to the wrong room?” he mutters to himself, looking confused at the sight of a senior grim reaper crying and previously touching a mortal. He even checks his card, his job order and his eyebrows furrowed further when the taller grim reaper sees that he’s in the right place.

No. 13 sniffles, never taking his eyes away from the woman’s. “Thank you,” he mutters in a low voice so that she’ll be the only one to hear it. “And I’m sorry,” he adds before placing a chaste kiss at the woman’s forehead, both as an apology and a goodbye. And then to No. 43 he says, “You’re not mistaken. Come inside and do your job.”

No. 43 nods hastily and taller he may be than his senior, he’s still a little clumsy with his movements--still not possessing the grace of a grim reaper that has taken more than a hundred souls.

He stares at the newbie for a while before nodding, No. 43 smiles uneasily, showing deep dimples on his cheeks.

He looks back at the painter. She’s already staring back and then he turns her attention to the grim reaper that she was meant to be meeting in the first place, feeling a heavy load on his chest at the thought that this woman who showed her his past has to go.

He walks away from the room as No. 43 starts reciting the date and time.

This will be the first of the many defiances No. 13 will make. He will wait for the newbie to finish his job and he will ask to look for the painter’s card. No grim reaper asks for another grim reaper’s card. You are given one and you don’t ask for a card whose soul are not yours to take.

Still, the newbie dutifully hands it to him without protest. He doesn’t know what expression he is showing at the moment but it must be along the lines of scary or angry due to No. 43’s pale face.

He inspects the card. It’s the same as every other one they were given. Plain, ordinary, simple. And yet everything about her was not typical it seems unfair that her card is the same as everyone else’s.

Her name was Park Joohyun.

She died because of an aneurysm three minutes ago. She was 68 years old. It was a painless and a quick death said No. 43. One moment she’s awake and the next her hands lay slumped at the side of the bed, her heartbeat stopping minutes after the oxygen ceased to reach her brain.

Her name was Park Joohyun and she used to be Jimin.

“She asked me to give you this painting, sunbaenim. Said it was for you,” the newbie tells him, still in that scared manner. He took it, eyes vacant as he inspects the painting. It was still the same except for the finished cactus on the table. And oh, there’s a cat beside the boy too who seems as curious at peering outside. A calico cat to be exact. The same azure tinged room except for the blond hair of the boy. The face is impossible to be observed because the boy’s back was the only thing visible. Like Joohyun, the boy was looking at the distance from the window. Searching for the stars or something that is far away from their reach.

“Thank you,” he croaks out after some time. The taller’s expression softens a little, nodding. “What kind of tea did you brew for her?”

Another anomaly, asking for details about another soul.

“Chamomile tea, sunbaenim. She’s a kind soul. A little lonely maybe but she deserves her next life.”

That’s my fault. He wanted to say. If he didn’t took long to find her, maybe she wouldn’t be so lonely. Maybe Joohyun wouldn’t need to explain repeatedly how the man in her dreams was a real person and not a product of her hallucinations. That she’s not deranged than they believed her to be.

“Is she someone you knew? A lost soul that come up under your radar?” No. 43 inquires, still curious on the connection of the two.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “She’s someone I used to know.”

What the grim reaper doesn’t know is this: Jimin’s story in his second life may be a sad one but it ended happily because he met Yoongi. And that’s all that matters to him.

That night, No. 13 lets the memories stew in his mind, refusing sleep that he needed after a long day’s work. He weighs in the significance of what he saw underneath Joohyun’s skin. He has a name. He calls him Yoongi.

It was less important to him compared to the name that still haunts him.

“Jimin,” he whispers again. Such a common name for an extraordinary boy.

Even saying it shoots up the same intense pain on his heart. And it was so unfair to feel such overflowing hurt. To feel it should imply that at some point in his life he should have felt the opposite of it. But he has never been genuinely happy. Not that he could remember and yet it still hurts the same.

Despite that, it was still better to feel something. It serves as a reminder. Of the man he used to be and the boy he used to love. It serves as a reminder that no matter how ignorant he was at first, he still abandoned Joohyun on her misery for this life.

Park Joohyun. If it’s her second life, it should be dedicated to watering the seeds. But the only thing that she seem to have watered with her tears are her artworks while waiting for him.

No. 13 exhales a shaky breath.

His name is Yoongi and he loved Jimin.

▪

His colleagues noticed the sudden shift in his mood the following weeks. Not that he was exactly known as the cheery type in the first place but it was enough for the district head of their cluster to send the newbie for an intervention. The intervention came in the form of two iced Americanos in the nearest coffee shop, courtesy of the cluster credit card.

He accepts it not because he wanted to but because he knew No. 43 will be in trouble if he didn’t report any progress to their supervisor. He have been through that phase at some point after all and he took pity at the pinched expression of the taller grim reaper’s offer for coffee.

After several moments of sitting together in the café (with their hats off, of course), it became clear that he is in no mood to talk. No. 43 accepted it and has resigned to staring at the bustle of the city outside the window, occasionally sipping through his drink.

In the end, it was No. 13 who broke the silence in order to ask a question. “Why do you think us grim reapers just have numbers for a name?” He made sure that his expression gave nothing--that he already knew that he used to be a mortal too and in his past life he has a name.

The other’s eyebrows shoot up, appearing to be simultaneously surprised and panicked. He wonders why. “You mean why we don’t have names like mortals?” he asks back. “Uh sunbaenim. Sorry,” he adds belatedly when he realized that he spoke informally with his senior.

“Just hyung is fine,” he tells him with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But yeah, that’s what I was asking.”

No. 43’s face crumpled momentarily before carefully choosing his next words. “I think…at some point we had a name. We just chose to forget or perhaps the memory was taken from us. I’m not really sure, either.”

He mulls over the younger’s answer, intrigued. “Maybe you’re right. But I think that it shouldn’t have been taken away from us like that. It’s a little cruel how we’re left in the dark like that.”

The newbie’s next words were unexpected, stunning the both of them. “I saw my mother the other day,” he says. No. 13’s neck snaps to the younger’s direction. “At least I thought she was my mother. It was just by accident,” he hurries to explain. “I brushed hands with her accidentally. In her memory, she called me son and she was crying. I cannot imagine what such son will do to make her mother cry like that. So maybe, it’s a little merciful for us to forget our names. A protection from past heartbreaks. Of what we did or what was done to us to end up like this.”

No. 13 closes his eyes and then opens them again to see the newbie’s chin trembling as he blinks away tears. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he offers softly. He cannot imagine what it must have felt like for No. 43 to see a relative in one of their jobs, much less to actually be the one to take their soul away. And when he looks back again at the newbie, his expression is more controlled now. “My name is Yoongi by the way.”

It’s No. 43’s turn to be flabbergasted, jaw hanging in the air for several seconds. If he wasn’t so sad maybe he would have laughed at how funny it looks. The younger shakes his head, places a hand on his mouth before nodding in determination. He could imagine No. 43 thinking about that encounter in the nursing home. How the senior looked so wrecked about Joohyun’s death, a woman he met the same night.

“And I think I used to be Namjoon,” he replies in a small yet steady voice.

“I’ll just call you Joon, if that’s okay with you.”

“You can call me that, Yoongi hyung.” Namjoon smiles, dimpled cheeks showing. He smiles a little in response.

His name is Yoongi. And he’s more than a grim reaper.

Part 2. Regrets

“Taking your own life. Interesting expression—taking it from who? Once it’s over, it’s not you who’ll miss it. Your own death is something that happens to everybody else.”

-Sherlock Holmes

Several years passed after he discovered the name that still hurts. It took a while, but he was able to put the hurt in a box, visiting it during the times when he can allow himself to let go in the confines of his small apartment. Life is still the same. He’s still a grim reaper and he is still expected a certain amount of souls to turn over at the end of the day.

As a grim reaper, death was still a constant and predictable thing for him. Life, however is a different matter. Life never fails to surprise him in a number of ways.

It was an ordinary night when it happened. But then again, we never anticipate the events that change the course of our lives. It always looks like an ordinary day at first until it punches you in the face and leaves you reeling on your own.

He arrives at the high end condominium five minutes before Park Jeonghwa’s supposed death. He follows a strict work etiquette and that includes arriving early at the place of death.

She will die of blood loss but in the mortal’s mind she died because of heartbreak. She didn’t necessarily intend to die; she merely doesn’t want to keep on living.

She is going to slit her wrists at her bathtub after a phone call with her best friend. Her best friend tells her he loves her very much and that he believes she’s the best ballerina there is even though she was not casted as the main dancer at their latest play. Jeonghwa has been battling with her depression for years which is worsened by her insecurities on her chosen field.

He hears sniffles coming from the bathroom and he follows the sound, quietly slipping in without her notice. Jeonghwa doesn’t see her unlike Joohyun. Suicide is always an uncertain call for grim reapers because the souls are very vulnerable and in rare cases, the person does not pull through with the attempt. The problem with these kind of individuals though is that they have self-harmed for so long that their “trials” go overboard at their lowest points that will inevitably lead to their deaths. It only takes the slightest slip of the hand for a normal session of self-harm to go horribly wrong.

When he observes the crying girl submerged in the lukewarm water though, he sucks in a breath. She looks exactly like Joohyun, a younger version of her and in ways that matter, like the boy with the bright smile too. Jimin.

This is Jimin’s third life. Joohyun should be harvesting the seeds and having a good life.

Yoongi inhales a lungful of air and takes off his hat. Yoongi had decided. This will be his second defiance.

He kneels down next to Jeonghwa, long past caring about his clothes getting wet.

It was Jeonghwa’s eyes. It’s the same sad, piercing gaze he saw on Joohyun. The same stare he witnessed on the beautiful boy’s face. It’s as if no matter what form or face it belongs to, they will look at Yoongi the same way.

It seems to him the universe is taunting him to do something about it.

So he will.

“Why?” he asks seriously, looking at the girl in the eyes.

Jeonghwa sniffles and stares at the grim reaper with bleary eyes. She also took some drugs beforehand for it to be less painful. She will not be alarmed to see a foreign man in her bathroom moments before her demise. “Why?” she parrots in a watery voice.

He nods. “Why will you do it?”

She stares and something about it tells the grim reaper that she’s not exactly looking at him but remembering years of exhaustion to be the best but still not being good enough; of working herself to death knowing that it’s for your passion. But then again for a dancer, it’s a more painful death when you can no longer practice your craft with joy.  

“I’m not good enough,” she eventually answers. Her hands shake as she fingers the edge of the sharp kitchen knife. She caresses it with longing.

“Let me tell you something. You’ll never be good enough,” he states calmly. Jeonghwa gasps, staring at him wide-eyed. “Not with such high standards. There will always be someone better than you because you’re only human. But I want you to know this. Your self-worth is not measured by your ability to dance or how graceful you are. It’s not measured if you’re the main dancer of a program that will be talked about for some time. That program will be forgotten too eventually. No matter how important it seems to be right now. That’s just how life is.”

She frowns, setting aside the knife for a while to cling tightly at the edge of the tub, probably in an effort to calm herself down. “You don’t understand. Dancing is my passion. It’s the only thing I have.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I do know that passion in life is a very important thing but it should neither dictate nor excuse on how it will end your life.”

Jeonghwa’s gaze flits to the knife and then back to her hands. She does that for so long that one will think that she’s become a statue but before he can speak again, she starts sobbing so hard that the water sloshes everywhere. He doesn’t particularly care about the mess.

He has no idea on how to comfort a crying human, much more someone that’s important to him so he remains where he’s at and patiently waits for her to stop crying. He checks the time. Half a minute before the time stated at the card in his hand. It’s all the time he needs.

The grim reaper nudges the phone the slightest centimeter closer towards Jeonghwa while the knife he distances away from its original location.

“You will forget that this ever happened. That you ever talked to me. But you will look on your phone and you will remember to call your best friend again. You understand?”

She sniffles repeatedly and then gave the slightest of nods. Five seconds. He brings the hat back at the top of his head.

Jeonghwa blinks and stares in between the phone and the knife. Her hand trembles as she shakily reaches for the one that’s nearest her. She dials her best friend’s number.

Yoongi exhales a breath he knew he was holding. He checks the card once again, inspecting it. It’s a little wet at the spot where his fingers are touching it but aside from that, it’s empty. A blank card.

In very rare cases, the soul that a grim reaper should take changes their mind and does not pull through the attempt. This renders the seal of their death null and void.

Jeonghwa has a good friend. His name is Hoseok and he’s in her unit in five minutes flat, crying with her and hugging her tight. No one should be alone in their lowest point. Yoongi is glad that Jeonghwa is no longer on her own.

The grim reaper left with an empty card and a soul that changed her mind.

¤

“Daebak! Her name really disappeared like that?” Namjoon asks, eye twinkling in amazement when Yoongi told him that he just came from a cancelled contract.

He shrugs. “She’s calling her friend when I went to her place. That friend really helped a lot on changing her decision. The time of her death went and passed by. It happens sometimes,” he explains hoping he’s forced nonchalance is not that noticeable. “Taking one’s life is always a fragile thing for mortals.”

“Taking one’s life is a fragile thing,” another grim reaper repeats as he scribbles the words in a… is he holding a notepad?

“I’m sorry, who’s this?” Yoongi asks Namjoon.

Namjoon perks up and signals for the other one to bow down. “He’s a newbie, hyung. No. 40.”

“No. 40 huh? Why is he only here now? He should have been assigned here first. You’re 43,” he mutters while pointing at the taller. Namjoon shrugs to relay that the system also baffles him.

“No. 40 at your service, sunbaenim! Please take care of me!” the newbie recites in a low voice albeit with much energy.

A cheerful one. He taps the newbie’s shoulders to signal that he can stop bowing already. He receives a boxy smile for that.

“I’ll go ahead, guys. I still need to sort out all this paper work.”

Namjoon nods. “Oh yeah. I forgot how tedious it is when a soul’s name disappears from a card. You must hate the added paperwork, hyung.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi mutters. “It’s a lot of paperwork.” But Yoongi doesn’t hate it at all. He welcomed the thirty-page document that he had to fill in that night. The pain on his neck and cramped hands were all worth it compared with the fact that Jeonghwa is still breathing.

¤

Yoongi will be lying if he said that he didn’t keep tabs. He had managed to control himself and check up on Jeonghwa to only once a month. And when he observed that she’s in a good place, it was reduced to once a year. He had gotten enough to trouble by reporting her as a cancelled contract to his supervisor. Head admin No.3 stared through his skull for hours demanding an explanation but he never managed to pull out any words from the grim reaper except for what he had already said to Namjoon and No. 40.

He’s satisfied with how it turned out. The last time he snooped around, Jeonghwa is teaching ballet to kids now. After that, he refused to meddle in her life anymore. She doesn’t need another interference by a grim reaper in her life. She deserves to be happy and live a peaceful life. Yoongi is glad.

He can’t help it though when he whispered the name to Namjoon, asking him to report it to him in the occurrence that her name appeared in one of his cards. Namjoon never asked why, just nods in understanding. Yoongi likes Namjoon as a grim reaper that way. Or is it a friend?

When he saw Jeonghwa again though, this time it really was a coincidence.

Yoongi has his hat off after a trip in the hospital. It was a doctor he had to fetch. A hardworking one so it was a little tiring to explain to her that her sworn duty should be wrapped up for now.

That time, Yoongi is just walking home to his lonely apartment. His steps are slow since there is really nothing to look forward to with his monotonous job.

When she comes out from her studio, the breeze from the AC unit of the building blows over, swaying her long hair all over her face. Park Jeonghwa is forty years old but she’s still glowing. Life suits her better compared to the despair he once witnessed in her bathtub years ago when she was still young.

Yoongi half expects her to notice him and smile, see the recognition in her face when their paths crossed. In an ideal world, this Jimin will run into Yoongi’s arms. But life is never ideal and there is no world to be had for grim reaper like him.

And so when Jeonghwa comes out with a four year old kid on her hand, Yoongi’s heart aches a little.

Her best friend Hoseok, if he remembers it right comes out next. It aches a lot.

A stream of kids flows out the door and from one of the shops nearby a group of women welcome the kids with smiles and hugs. He didn’t notice them at first, those women must be their mothers. Hoseok kisses one of the women in the lips as he brings a little boy to what must be his wife’s arms. His eyes flits over Jeonghwa’s fingers and was relieved to see that it holds no ring.

Yoongi is a little ashamed of the selfishness that he feels. Just a little. He knows he should wish for Jeonghwa to live a happy life, love someone and marry them but that doesn’t mean he will have to want that particular wish.

Yoongi walks away just before another mother fetch the last little girl under Jeonghwa’s care. What he knew for now was enough for him.

¤

The days after that, he didn’t have enough strength or willpower to walk away. Like a moth to flame, some people will say. Except for him, the flame is as big and intense as the brightest star in the sky. Because Jimin’s soul glows and Yoongi can’t look away.

Jeonghwa notices the third time Yoongi hovers around her dance studio.

“You’re not some pedophile that want to kidnap my students, right?” she asks with one hand on her hip. She’s blocking Yoongi’s way to make sure he couldn’t run.

“God, no! I was just looking because…uh. I have no reason really. I’m just drawn to the music.” That was half a lie. He was drawn to it because he knows who exactly played it and dancing to it. Jeonghwa’s expression relaxes a little but he still cannot discern if she will whip out her phone and call the police if he makes a single move.

She chuckles and it looks good on her, the amusement on her face. Yoongi imagines that she’ll be an amazing mother who will discipline her children well. “That’s great, then. I was this close on calling the police on you, young man,” she adds sternly.

Yoongi wants to laugh. If only she knew how old the grim reaper she is talking with.

“You look lonely and my class just finished. Fancy some coffee with an old lady then?” she asks with a grin, her face open and inviting. Yoongi can’t look away.

“Okay.” She never asked for a name but he gave it anyway. “My name is Yoongi.”

“That’s a really nice name,” she comments. She beckons for Yoongi to walk alongside him as they walk to the coffee shop. She smiles but did not offer her hand. “And mine is Jeonghwa.”

They share a coffee during Wednesdays. She has a half day at her ballet lessons so they meet at different coffee shops that Jeonghwa happens to fancy at that particular time. Yoongi waits for her outside the studio. Always five minutes early.

Theirs is not a love story but Yoongi will dare say that he found a friend in Jeonghwa who will share her wisdom in between bites of sweet pastries. One of them is that people should always eat what they want if they can because life is too short to deprive yourself from good things. Yoongi agrees, of course. He learned that Jeonghwa is content with her life teaching ballet to kids, encouraging them to let their talent blossom and comforting their young hearts when they are disappointed. She is happy and she could not ask for a grander life.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you never marry? Don’t you want kids for your own?” he asks without using honorifics. Jeonghwa never corrected her in all those times that he did so Yoongi never bothered to ask if it was okay to talk to her like that.

“What do you mean?”

He pauses. “I guess I’m curious if you ever fell in love.”

She smiles and her eyes crinkles with delight. Yoongi stares. “Oh that. I did fell in love a couple of times but I think it’s just not for me. Don’t get me wrong, I think married life will suit me too. It could even make me happy, I imagine. It’s just… it doesn’t sit well with me to be with someone. Anyone, really. Do you get what I mean?”

Yoongi nods but the truth is he doesn’t get it. Because he’s only imagined to be with one person in his life and it’s an unreachable dream for him. One can only take what they can get out of life.

“It’s the reason why I was so focused on dancing in my early years to the point that it consumed me,” she pauses and for a few seconds her eyes glazed with a distant memory. Yoongi can only guess what it is about. “I’m happy with what I have now but sometimes I still wake up crying. There’s a pain in my chest that tells me that I should be looking for someone or something but I really don’t know who or what. There are no clues, only tears.” Yoongi averts his gaze because she could easily be describing his life and no one will be the wiser. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling. Forgive this old lady.”

He shakes his head immediately, disagreeing. “Nonsense, Jeonghwa. I know exactly what you mean.”

“Really?” she intones in disbelief. At Yoongi’s stare, she eventually relents. “Well I suppose we have the same wandering souls. Anyways, that’s why I love dancing so much. It distracts me from that missing piece. You should search for a passion in life too, Yoongi. It will take away some of the longing I promise you.”

“Passion? I thinks it’s too late for me at this point,” he comments with humor.

“That’s not fair. How about a hobby then? Well, do you want to attend ballet class? I’ll teach you,” she teases, grinning.

He laughs at that. “Ahhh but I’m afraid the age limit has long been past due.”

Jeonghwa hums as she searches his face. Yoongi lets him since he feels comfortable. Her gaze lands on his hands and then she smiles brightly. “How about piano lessons? Your fingers are slender and I think you can pick it up immediately with the right tools and instructor. There’s something about pouring your heart out to your art, getting lost in the music. Maybe then the longing you feel will be less painful.

Yoongi stares at his own hands, wondering. “I don’t know…” he trails off.

“Just try it. And then when you learned how to play it, you should let me hear a piece and I promise to dance it for you.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Just promise me you’ll enjoy it.”

He mulls it over. “Okay. I’ll try.”

¤

Yoongi fell in love.

Jeonghwa was right, he picked it up quickly. There’s a certain comfort in handling those black and white keys and turning it into beautiful melodies; of knowing that the colors don’t matter as they blend into different harmonious notes. The piano is the first thing that Yoongi truly loved as a grim reaper.

“So when are you going to play for me? I want to hear you play,” Jeonghwa asks over her lemonade, smiling a little at the excited way Yoongi relayed his past lessons. It’s easier to learn an instrument when your only obligations are Wednesday meet-ups and the occasional gathering of souls.

“Soon,” he replies coyly. “I’m still practicing. I want to play something original.”

“Ah. A composer now, are we?”

He smirks a little. “Something like that. Meanwhile, here’s something I learned,” he says. He stretches his arms and acts as if he’s in a theater and not in the middle of a quiet café. He straightens his back as he starts tapping the table, playing it as if there’s a piano in front of him.

Jeonghwa stares, thoroughly amused. “Wow your lessons are paying really well, huh? Hold on is that…?”

“Chospticks,” he completes for her with a grin.

“You’re so silly,” she remarks with mild exasperation. “I love it.”

He grins, showing a hint of his pink gum. “Of course you do.”

“So is this the day I hear you play your masterpiece?” Jeonghwa asks as soon as her foot landed outside her studio.

“It’s not ready yet. Sorry,” he replies in a voice that is anything but apologetic.

“Oops,” she suddenly exclaims as she trips due to her skirt. Yoongi caught her arm on instinct. He forgot that he’s not wearing gloves. “Thank you, Yoongi. Ah this is embarrassing. I don’t know why I’m this clumsy sometimes when I’m a dancer,” she mumbles shyly, face flushed from the embarrassment of nearly kissing the pavement.

The grim reaper caught snippets of little Jeonghwa with scraped knees and wounded elbows and he’s most fond to watch Jimin trip on literal air. The boy he sees has a pretty blush on his cheeks as he thanks his lover. In the present, he stares at his frail arms in wonder. It’s the same arms that caught Jimin in the past.

Then and now. It’s still the same.

“Don’t worry, Jeonghwa,” he tells her with a cryptic smile. “Believe me when I say it’s a natural trait.”

She laughs, the sound beautiful than any music he can wish to make. “Such an unfortunate trait to have. Enough with me, you’re not working yourself too much for that piano piece I’m asking of you right?”

He merely shakes his head. It’s one of the rare things that he’s willing to do despite all the effort and time he needed to exert. He loves playing the piano so no matter how tiring it is sometimes, he has no complaints.

“Be sure that you don’t. I know you think you’re still young but it’s okay to rest. Someone once said to me that the product of our chosen art does not dictate our self-worth.”

Yoongi freezes, his steps stalling. “Really? Who told you that?” It’s impossible for her to remember. A grim reaper’s ability to erase selected memories is potent and effective. It’s one of the main reasons why mortals are unaware of their existence.

She frowns at the seriousness of the man’s tone. She looks at Yoongi as if it’s her first time assessing the grim reaper’s countenance. And then it’s gone as fleeting as the wind that blew over her hair. “I’m not really sure either. But the words stayed with me. It really helped me a lot when I was struggling once.” Yoongi exhales in relief, the weight on his chest lifting. “I just knew it was someone important to me which is silly because I don’t even know the name of that person,” she continues with a little quirk on her lips.

“It’s not absurd at all. It’s natural for humans to forget sometimes,” he whispers.

“Yoongi.”

He looks up, alarmed. “Huh?”

“I’ll treat you some sweets when you let me hear you play,” she offers with a tempting smile. The smile is very tempting, the sweets not so much.

He rolls his eyes yet he can’t help but grin. “Such a tempting offer for someone who doesn’t even love sweets. Don’t you dare back out to dance for me, okay?”

“I won’t. The sweets are just a bribe.”

He won’t tell her that seeing Jeonghwa dance is enough motivation for him to do his best on his end. “Fine. Next Wednesday, then. I’ll wait for you outside the building.”

“As always,” she quips.

“Yeah. As always.” Yoongi smiles. “It will be grand.”

The next week, Yoongi will have a first-hand experience about regrets.

¤

For one thing, regrets always comes last. It happens to you in the form of your colleague being outside Jeonghwa’s building with eyes downcast and lips set into a tight line. Yoongi is five minutes late from the usual because he practiced playing the music he wanted Jeonghwa to hear until he was too distracted to check the time.

His heart stutters and then it beats so fast he wonders if Namjoon can hear it from where he’s standing.

“Hyung,” Namjoon mutters, voice devoid of any emotions. Yoongi knows it’s meant to protect him from the truth but all he can feel is fury towards the grim reaper that took away her soul.

“Tell me,” he mutters, face stoic. Namjoon makes a move of bringing a hand to his shoulder but Yoongi stops him, jerking away from the taller. “Tell me how,” he manages to spat through gritted teeth.

It turns out that Jeonghwa was a little too modest on describing her achievements on the ballet world. She used to be one of the best dancers in her company before she retired, enough to create a steady and loyal fan base that kept tabs on her even when she’s too old to perform on shows now. One of them was so loyal that he followed her everywhere until he found the building where she is working now.

There was an altercation. The fan was too happy or angry. It blurs sometimes when you worship someone to the point of madness. There was a knife involved. One of the staff will take too long to find Jeonghwa bleeding at the pristine floor of her dance studio. At least none of her young students noticed their teacher like that. No one knows how long she bled out alone and miserable.

Yoongi has a guess on how long. Probably five minutes. The time it took him to practice his music. He shouldn’t have been late, Yoongi thought. But he interfered with her life once. And a grim reaper can’t do anything if Park Jeonghwa was meant to die by a knife.

Another lesson about regrets: there’s a thousand ways to blame yourself on an event you had no control of in the first place but it doesn’t mean it will stop you from creating a hundred scenarios in your head in which you did the right thing. It created a vicious cycle on the grim reaper’s brain.

Yoongi never got to witness her ethereal dancing skills and Jeonghwa never got to hear his piano piece. That for him, seems fair enough.

“What did you give her?” he croaks out after an eternity of silence. He will not ask if it was a painless death. Yoongi already knows it’s not. It’s awful to be scared and call out someone’s name only to be met with silence.

A slight drizzle starts pouring. Yoongi drops his hat. He pays it no mind.

“She was full of light, Yoongi hyung. I gave her lemon citron tea,” Namjoon answers. He moves forward and crouches down to reach for the older’s hat.

“Is it the sweet kind?”

Namjoon nods.

“Did she like it?” Something wet drops on his cheek. Maybe it’s the rain or maybe it was something else.

“Very much, hyung.”

“You gave her lemon citron tea,” he whispers and then he finally broke down when the information seeps into his mind. “It’s a sweet kind and she liked it,” he chokes before he lets out a heart wrenching sob. Park Jeonghwa will live beautifully in her next life. He will see Jimin again if fate permits it.

Namjoon said nothing as Yoongi continues to break down, only gently placing his hat on his hyung’s head to allow him a semblance of privacy in the middle of the street as he mourns. The younger waited solemnly, never taking his eyes away from the pavement where he stood minutes earlier and saw the name that was on his card.

The sky wept with the grim reaper that day, the slight drizzle morphing into a full blown outpour. Yoongi used to love Wednesdays but now he hates the rain too.

¤

Yoongi did not attend her funeral ceremony even when he knew that he can and he’s allowed to. It was pretty pointless because the only person he wishes to see there will be now in ashes so it’s all very futile.

There’s a park a few blocks away from where the ceremony was held. The grim reaper chose to go there instead. In the park there’s a small stage and an old, quite beat-up piano. It was in tune and still works nonetheless so Yoongi sits in the bench and plays it.

He played a song so sad that the people who heard it will tell stories about the man on the piano who looks like he’s about to cry. Almost but not quite. When he finished, the listeners found themselves welling up, remembering about lost things, chances, failed promises or a love that never bloomed. When asked, no one will remember the tune but they will always remember the sadness they felt during that day.

As for the piano man, the most overwhelming emotion he felt was disappointment. Because there was once a woman who promised him that the longing will lessen when he loved something else. He loved the piano and its music but nothing changed. Now, he knows how to play but he has less the listener he wanted to have. The longing and the sadness only got more intense.

Part 3. Map to the Stars

“Well, look who I ran into,” crowed Coincidence.

“Please,” flirted Fate. “This was meant to be.”

Grief has a way of blurring the days into one undecipherable lump. The grim reaper will take souls. Some will struggle, most are willing. He will brew various teas and his heart will clench every time he’ll have to make a lemon citron tea. Some souls will cry out in happiness while most will be filled with regrets. At the end of the day, he will go home and mourn in private. Occasionally, when he feels like it, he will practice playing the piano. He never touches it on a Wednesday.

Years passed like that. How many exactly, Yoongi is not so sure either.

But there are certain moments when grief is able to stretch time into a long, tedious moment. Similar to a taffy until it turns white.

Young souls are the most difficult to gather. Deep down in their hearts, all grim reapers feels how unfair it is to take away such pure, innocent souls. They still have so much to do and experience. So much potential. And yet they must be plucked off from the world early just because a white card told them to.

It was one of the most brutal accidents the town has ever witnessed. At 10:43 AM, a bus full of pre-school children will drop off one of their classmates at its first stop, a small flower shop and will go on its way to the next street. Ten minutes later, a truck will come careening and plow the bus down the road. The truck driver lost control because of the slippery roads. It certainly didn’t help that he had two bottles of beer before he started his shift. At 11:01 AM, 29 school children along with the 52 year old bus driver died because of a road accident. The driver of the truck will survive yet will lay comatose on the hospital for an indefinite amount of time.

See, sometimes death is just unfair and if grim reapers will only have it, they know which souls to take exactly. But there’s an order to be followed and the universe knows what it’s doing. And so what the Deity says. 

The three grim reapers were assigned in this accident since they were the nearest on the site. The only other grim reaper who looks as affected as Yoongi was No. 40, his normally boyish smile gone as his face is set as hard as a stone. He openly wept when one of the children asked him where her mother was. Namjoon though was most collected among the three, his shock and disgust with the situation carefully concealed with his jutted chin and unreadable eyes. And so it was left to him to organize and allocate which souls will each grim reaper take for the job to be finished as quickly as possible. That time, Yoongi was thankful that Namjoon took charge; he wasn’t sure if he will be able to on his own at his miserable state.

All children including the driver were offered sweat teas. A cold, refreshing one. It’s the least that they deserve. And after that, it’s up to the souls to be happy on their next lives. What they do with what they are given are solely up to them.

When he was done with his last client, Yoongi couldn’t take it anymore that he left his office room to take a walk outside. He couldn’t take it. The cards with the names and dates so absolute and unchangeable he wants to rip it to shreds. The tea he had to prepare, each one tailor fit to a specific soul that they should gather. The speech he had to give to every single one of them whether they wanted to remember or forget. What’s the use when no one ever chooses the former anyway? Most of all, he couldn’t stomach the gazes of the innocent souls he prepared tea for this single day alone. No one should experience this much heartbreak while facing a child. These kids never asked for their lives to end so abruptly.

It was all so unfair that Yoongi roamed the streets of the area. He didn’t know how much time had passed with him going in circles around town but he remembers that at some point, due to his unwillingness to be alert, he stumbled at the sidewalk and fell, scraping his knees in the process. His usually pristine pants has been ripped, a gush of crimson can be seen on his scraped knee. It should hurt but the grim reaper can’t feel anything. Funny how grim reapers are not exactly mortals but they still bleed.

“Mister? Why are you sad?” a small voice asks beside him. He looks up to see a young boy with pink cheeks and swollen eyes, perhaps from crying as well. The grim reaper wonders why this kid is even talking to him. Yoongi frowns as he briefly pats his head only to find it bare. He must have left his hat on his office.

He didn’t answer, just continued to look at the child’s eyes. There was no trace of wariness on his face. His parents ought to teach him not to talk to random strangers, especially a grim reaper that just took ten souls of children his age. The little boy’s gaze looks vaguely familiar although at that time, Yoongi was too overcome with his grief to recognize whose soul he was peeking at.

The boy looks down and sees the scraped knees. His lips pulled into a frown, expression turning sympathetic. “Does your wound hurt, mister? Is that why you’re crying?”

He didn’t realize he was until the boy pointed it out. He blinks and it felt like he have been doing the act for a while without his knowing. Strange, he should be the one asking the kid why he looks like he cried his heart out too.

Yoongi would have asked if not for the choked sob that involuntarily escaped from his lips. Horribly, it initiated more tears to escape from his eyes.

“It’s okay, mister. Don’t be sad. Someone will heal your wound. Maybe your eomma will? I don’t know how to do it, I’m sorry,” the boy continues rambling, his voice a soothing reprieve from the grim reaper’s grief.

There he was, a 300-year old something man sprawled on the gutter with his face hidden from his hands as a six year old boy shushes him to stop crying.

It will all be so embarrassing if he cared for his dignity at all.

He eventually stopped, like a faucet that have been turned off and he was surprised as well with the sudden change in his mood. He looks up to properly observe the boy and his heart constricts again when he saw the same uniform those 29 souls were wearing on the accident. He lets his gaze travel and a few feet away from them stood the flower shop where the boy must be residing. He was the only survivor of the accident and maybe he doesn’t know it yet. Or maybe the boy already knew, judging from his swollen eyes and pink cheeks, he just didn’t understood it that well.

“Thank you,” he mutters. “Live well and long, kiddo. You are a very lucky soul.”

For some reason, the boy gapes at him, eyes twinkling with…something. Yoongi stood up, dusted his clothes and went back to his home.

○

Grim reapers need a way to destress too. It’s still just a job after all and what better way to make yourself feel better than imitate how mortals do it? Share a meal and a bottle of soju. Or maybe bottles of soju. Yoongi really didn’t know, he wasn’t exactly counting. Misery loves company. Yoongi’s misery happens to love alcohol to goad it on.

Technically, No. 40 shouldn’t be drinking because he still has the early shift tomorrow but he still tagged along with Namjoon when Yoongi invited them to his apartment. They all needed it, after the job they had to finish that day. They didn’t talk about what happened earlier that afternoon. Instead, the three of them dive right in with the alcohol in front of them with one goal in mind: to forget who they are and what they needed to do that day.

Yoongi was starting to think that No. 40 really has no experience with alcohol because after just one glass, the tall boy is already mumbling nonsense as his forehead rests on the table. He literally just sipped on his first glass before chugging an absurd amount of cola. It was impossible for him to be that drunk already. It’s better that way since he and Namjoon can talk more freely without the newbie’s nonstop questions. He’s a curious one, No. 40.

“I think it’s cruel, that we should forget our past lives. At some point, we should just remember. Why put blindfolds on humans when life could be so much easier when you knew all these things from the past?” Yoongi rants after a heated debate with Namjoon.

“Should humans, really? Their lives are a mess already without the complications of their earlier memories. I think it’s better this way for them to live at the present and do what they do best: make the most of it as they survive.” The younger is a philosophical drunk and Yoongi still can’t decide if it’s a better or worse version of Yoongi’s colleague.

“How about their loved ones then? Should they just blindly look for them without even knowing who and what exactly they are looking for?” he argues further. At this point, Yoongi realized he was not continuing the discussion at the mortal’s perspective and his thoughts were coming from a much more personal level.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you talking about soulmates? That sounded like soulmates.” The younger nods in contemplation. “I don’t really know about that hyung but it seems to me that soulmates will always find each other with or without their memories. It’s their souls that needed to meet after all, not their minds.”

He gapes in bewilderment. “That’s---”

“Hold on hyung. I need to use your comfort room,” the younger says hurriedly before he’s out of the kitchen leaving Yoongi with his unfinished sentence.

He sighs heavily, setting his shot glass at the table with a dull thud. “I wish I never forgot,” he mutters under his breath. He shakes his head, not really wanting to open the internal box in his mind containing his limited memories of Jimin. That name again and his old, brittle heart manages to clench with so much longing.

“Is it really, Yoongi?” a low voice asks him.

He frowns and notice that Namjoon is still not back from the comfort room. He’s surprised to see that No. 40 is sitting straight, his expression serene.

“What do you mean…” And then he freezes. “How did you know my name?” He never calls Namjoon by his true name when they were with other grim reapers and the younger extends the same courtesy to him. Also, as far as he’s concerned, No. 40 always calls the two of them sunbaenim despite their insistence that hyung will be fine. “Who are you?”

No. 40 or the entity that is using No. 40 smiles, a small but kind one. He never answered the grim reaper’s questions. “Just like every other soul I breathed life to, you were given a choice, Yoongi. To retain your memories or not. You have made your choice and that’s the mercy I imparted you with.”

“I wanted to forget?” he asks, both numb and feeling all sorts of things at the same time.

“Now as for your fate,” the man continues without addressing any of Yoongi’s confusion. “To witness him live and die while you remain the same. You will be the one to decide whether you treat what you are given as a punishment or a reward.”

So it is true, remembering Jimin and witnessing him die all over again is some obscure way for him to suffer. For what reason exactly, Yoongi does not know. In a flash, Yoongi’s chair comes skittering to the floor as he holds No. 40’s collar in a tight grip. “You---” he says through gritted teeth.

But it was all useless, because in a blink of an eye, a burst of light assaulted his eyes, momentarily blinding Yoongi as he drops the collar of the younger’s coat. No. 40 slumps all over the table again, snoring away as if nothing happened. A lone white butterfly flies away, seemingly coming out of nowhere, much to the frustration of the only conscious grim reaper in the room. He tries to catch it and hopefully crush it in his hands but it was quick to escape on Yoongi’s partially opened window.

“What happened, hyung? You look like you just saw a ghost. Oh wait, that’s wrong. You look like you just saw the Goddess of Birth,” Namjoon remarks as he returns to the kitchen all the while wiping his hands.

Yoongi uselessly opens and closes his mouth before dropping to his chair with a loud thud. “No. It was not her at all,” he whispers in answer. It’s much more than that.

Yoongi thinks that the Deity just paid him a visit.

In the following days, he continued to scrutinize No. 43 to the point that even Namjoon becomes creeped out.

“What’s your deal, hyung? You always glare at him like you’re dissecting him with your eyes.”

No. 40 shivers uncomfortably when Namjoon mentioned that.

“Nothing,” Yoongi answers in dismissal. “Do you feel any different that night we drank in my apartment, newbie?” he shoots the question to the younger that is now hiding behind Namjoon’s back.

“What do you mean, hyung? Like hangover?” That’s the only thing that changed though, No. 43 calls them hyungs now.

Yoongi sighs heavily, disappointed and relieved at the same time. He doesn’t really know if he can handle to hear more cryptic messages from the deity again. “Yeah. Something like that. Hope you’re doing fine. Poor you being used like that,” he mumbles under his breath before he’s spacing out again.

The two grim reapers shared a mix of alarm and concerned expression and said nothing more of it, just letting Yoongi be in his own indecipherable world. They also looked the other way when their senior would randomly talk to butterflies he will see in the streets. That’s when their hats are the most handy as they pretended not to know Yoongi while he argues about the importance of existence to lepidopterans that were just minding their business.

○

All throughout his existence, Yoongi has walked with sorrow. She’s a great companion because she never asked questions. Sorrow hangs over him like a coat, a comfortable albeit cold one. Sometimes, fate will tag along whenever she is needed but fate is more needed by mortals, not grim reapers like him.

It was a normal day until it turned into a fateful one. It always starts a normal day, so benign you will never think twice that something remarkable was meant to happen.

Because that day, coincidence disguised herself as sorrow as Yoongi’s feet landed him to a small flower shop he never knew he wanted to visit.

Someone bumps into his shoulder that produced an adorable mewl when his nose hits Yoongi’s form.

“Oof. That hurts,” the boy whines. Yoongi turns to look, about to apologize when every breath was snatched out of his lungs.

He looks exactly the same. Adorable chubby cheeks, gentle bridge that gives way to a cute button nose, pretty pink lips, eyes so earnest and expressive it’s no challenge to peer into his emotions.

It’s all the same.

If the universe was taunting him when he first met Jeonghwa, Jimin’s third life, then this time the universe is just plain lazy, not even bothering on disguising the bright  boy into a different form.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking. My shop is opening soon and the display is still a mess,” the boy explains. Even his voice is the same: sweet, inviting and gentle.

His hair was long when they first met, Yoongi knew. Customary of those times, the boy he loved always had jewels and small delicate flowers adorning his hair. But in the present, his hair is blond and the same locks frames his voice beautifully.

The boy stops when he noticed that Yoongi remains shell shocked, not even registering his words earlier. “Are you okay mister?” The grim reaper still didn’t answer. “You look…sad,” he observes with a hum. “Do you want some flowers?”

“What for?” he manages to croak out, his voice unrecognizable even to his own ears. It’s as if he’s watching from the outside the way this man’s first words to his only one is as stupid as this.

“To make you happy, of course. What kind do you want? Oh wait, don’t answer that. It can be anything as long as I gave you one intended to make you happy. Come, I recommend daisies.”

Everything is the same.

“Okay. I’ll take that.”

The boy claps his hands, suddenly remembering something. “Sorry! My bad, where are my manners? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Park Jimin. You can just call me, Jimin.”

His name still hurts.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jimin,” he can finally deliver with a resemblance of smoothness, his shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit. His name may hurt but Yoongi will never regret saying it. You used to call me Yoongi, Jimin. “You can call me Yoongi.”

“Yoongi,” Jimin tests out the name as if tasting it in his palette. “I like it. I feel like I should have known that already which is absurd because it’s my first time seeing you,” he says with a bright smile. Even the smile is the same, shining so brightly it’s devastating. “I’m sorry I’m being weird. It’s just you look really familiar.”

“Not at all. I feel the same, to be honest,” he adds with confidence, returning the smile shyly.

Jimin frowns when Yoongi smiled, scouring his memory where he’s seen it before. But then it’s gone when he remembered that he still has a shop to open. “Please, come in, Yoongi. Look around first. I’ll just finish this up and then I’ll give those daisies I promised you.”

Yoongi follows, stepping inside as he tells himself that he will be waiting for the flowers. Just for the daisies, that’s all.

But then maybe it was not coincidence that tagged along with the grim reaper that day. Maybe it was actually fate. And yet no one will ever really know.

○

Every day, Yoongi resisted. He really did. This is Jimin’s fourth life, his last reincarnation and he wanted him to have a peaceful life. A long, happy one. He is afraid that if he acquainted himself yet again with this Jimin, his love will lead a lonely life. Finishing with tragic ends, similar to the past ones. He interfered with Jimin’s life once and look how it ended up for both of them. Yoongi couldn’t decide if it was better for Jimin to exist like in the second one, die old and lonely or like Jeonghwa in his third life, content yet short lived. He could say that he is afraid for Jimin’s heart but the truth is more selfish. He’s more terrified that his heart will break again and he didn’t know if he can take it anymore if that happened. He’s not sure if there’s still space for more heartbreaks. If there will still be pieces left to pick up and gather.

When given the choice between right and wrong at the face of someone we love, we never have a choice at all. Because Yoongi can never look away not even if he wanted to.

“Welcome back, Yoongi! I swear I was just thinking about you. What do you want for today?” Jimin greets him with a pretty blush as soon as he enters the shop.

“Hello, Jimin. You can call me hyung,” he replies. The younger turned one shade brighter in excitement.

“Hi, Yoongi hyung,” Jimin says sweetly as if it’s his greatest accomplishment to say those words. “You look less sad today. How about some flowers to celebrate that?”

He nods in agreement. “Okay. That will be great. You choose one for me and I’ll accept it.”

This happened almost every day. And every time he will step foot inside, he promises that this will be the day he walk away.

“Yoongi hyung! I’ve been waiting for you. I prepared some coffee. Will you share it with me?” Jimin offers with twinkling eyes, all bright eyes and happy guise.

Every day will also end the same, Yoongi will be unable to ever say no. Not in the face of Park Jimin.

His answer to the promise he made to himself will always remain. Not today.

Yoongi will admit that he had his doubts. All those years, he tried his best to forget that he discovered his past life and his true love. It was especially difficult when he thought of the boy’s name and face and Yoongi misses him so much he wanted to rip his heart out. However, now that he is face to face with the boy that haunted his dreams in the flesh, he was uncertain if he can’t let go because he remembers the feeling of being in love and just chose to latch on the present Jimin to chase the same feeling.  

In the end, Jimin always proves him wrong. Forgetting is hard but remembering Jimin will always be easy.

He never knew what love was before all of this. He only had the memories and they were simply just that, things of the past.

Being with Jimin though changed a lot of things. He realized love is constant and falling in love is easy. Everything may have changed between them, like a pebble smoothened by the raging waters but in the end, the love remains the same. It always stays. A smoothen pebble is still a pebble on its core.

It all accumulates into a hundred average moments. This is how Yoongi fell in love with Park Jimin by a thousand different ways every normal day.

○

Connecting with someone deeply is not an easy task because Yoongi knew that eventually, he had to explain what he really is. Yoongi tried erasing Jimin’s memories every time the younger gets closer the truth. Jimin’s questions comes dangerously close to the truth each day that they are together. The grim reaper decided that Jimin has enough of forgetting. Jimin deserves the truth and he deserves to remember.

“It’s true?” Jimin questions incredulously. Yoongi merely nods, lip in a tight line due to agitation. “Oh. Okay. That really makes sense.”

He was just starting to nod, accepting that this is the right time for him to walk away before the younger can even ask him to leave. When Jimin’s words registered to him, he whips his neck to the younger’s direction. “Wait what? It makes sense?”

“I mean…I guess? You always wear dark clothes and you know,” Jimin motions around his face, implying that Yoongi should get it already.

“What about my face? Please, enlighten me Park Jimin.” He squints in suspicion, his lips starting to twitch in annoyance at how the younger is not taking him seriously.

Jimin shrugs, pouting a little. “You know… Pale complexion, always brooding, and unfairly red lips. Don’t look crossed, hyung. I honestly thought you were some sort of vampire at first.”

“Wha—” he starts, affronted. “A vampire? What sort of books are you reading to think like that?”

“Uhm a lot?” he continues, unfazed with the grim reaper’s increasing annoyance. “But you’re missing the point! I just complimented your lips and you’re not getting the hint.”

It finally registers to him, what Jimin just said. As if on cue, he feels the warmth spread from his neck up to the tip of his ears.

“Come on, hyung. You should be used to my teasing. I’m definitely going to do it more now that I know what you really are,” he says coyly while brushing the tips of his fingers against the older’s arm. Yoongi shivers. And as if that wasn’t enough, Jimin went as far as booping his nose. “Come now hyung, stop brooding and forgive me, please?”

And just like that, Jimin is forgiven.

“You won’t call my name three times when we fight, right hyung?”

“Why would I—”

“To get my soul, of course.”

“Jimin, I will personally throw a teapot on your face if we fight.”

“You will?”

Yoongi hesitates. “Well, maybe just in my head. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

○

“No. I will not do that. I am more than 300 hundred years old damn it and I refuse to---”

“It’s just five seconds!” Jimin shouts in glee before he’s pushing a headband with what could be cat ears attached to it at the top of Yoongi’s head.

“I demand respect Park Jimin. I swear to--”

A resounding click is heard in the shop as the camera in front of them captures the younger’s smiling face and Yoongi’s pouting one. Jimin beams as he retrieves the camera and starts inspecting the film it recently ejected.

“Ugh this is so embarrassing,” he complains as he reluctantly takes off the headband Jimin made him wear. He cranes his neck a little to take a peek of the picture. The grim reaper will never admit that he finds the two of them posing like that kinda cute.

“Oh the kitty is sad,” Jimin coos before he’s carding his fingers against the raven locks. This made Yoongi look up. Jimin is staring at him fondly and Yoongi is momentarily lost in those eyes. “You look just like the cat I saw when I was young.” He frowns, gazing at the younger quizzically. Jimin’s eyes then lights up as something clicks. “I remember now why you’re so familiar, Yoongi hyung. I saw you at the front of this shop that day. You were crying and looked so so sad I knew I had to do something about it. Well, I didn’t do much aside from pat your head but I guessed it worked because it made you stop crying.”

For a brief moment, he scours his mind on what Jimin is talking about and then feels like someone punched him in the gut when it finally clicked. The bus accident and his breakdown near the flower shop. The same one where he’s at right now.

“You’re the survivor?”

There are really no coincidences.

Jimin nods timidly. “It was a pretty traumatic experience for me. It took so long to set in to me that my friends will never come back to school no matter how intense my tantrums are. I also remembered babbling about you to my mother. Although it was all blurry so I told her you were a cat,” a soft smile flits on his face. “But looking at you right now… it all makes sense. You never aged since I first met you.”

“It was you,” Yoongi murmurs to himself. That little boy eased his heart even for a little at that time and his mind was too clouded with grief to even recognize that it was Jimin he was talking to. He looks up again in wonder. Jimin still makes his heart lighter even when he has grown up. Much lighter if it was even possible. “I told you to live a long, happy life.”

Jimin laughs, the sound something that he will spent an eternity to look for a way to bottle and keep as a treasure. “I’m doing the happy part right now. Here, with you.” He pauses before placing a loud kiss atop Yoongi’s head. “And that is why you’re going to let me keep this picture, Yoongi hyung. Because you look just like a cat and it’s so cute, it makes me happy.”

○

“What’s wrong with me, hyung?” Jimin asks one day when Yoongi involuntarily jerks away from the younger’s touch. He didn’t mean to but he forgot to wear his gloves that night in his haste to meet Jimin in the park. He did not want their time together to be depressing with the intrusion of past memories.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. It’s just…I don’t really want to be touchy--” he trails off at his own lame excuse when he observes Jimin blinking away tears, trying his best to retain his composure. “I’m sorry,” he repeats in a voice that is barely a whisper, not really knowing what to say.

“Is it really that painful to touch me, hyung?”

“No! It’s not like that. I love holding you. I--I can’t explain it. You wouldn’t understand.”

Jimin exhales loudly as he gently grabs both of Yoongi’s hands. This time, he didn’t flinch and it releases a little bit of the pent up tension in the younger’s shoulders. “Then make me understand, Yoongi. It kills me to see you hide your pain every time you touch me.”

He stares back and forth in between Jimin’s eyes, feeling lost and hopeless. Actually, there is a way.

A grim reaper’s kiss shows the person’s past lives to the mortal. Yoongi doesn’t know how Jimin will react if he learns the truth.

“Trust me, hyung. I’m stronger than you know. I can take it, I promise.”

Yoongi trusts him of course and he always knew that the younger is the better one between them in keeping promises.

After several tense seconds, the grim reaper nods tentatively. “Okay. Just promise me that whatever happens, you’re going to stay, okay?”

“Of course. How can I ever run away from you, hyung? That would physically hurt me,” he says with a smile and there’s a little bit of humor in his voice despite the palpable tension.

His lips quirks a little to the side. “Okay. I will kiss you now,” he announces suddenly which surprises Jimin a lot but Yoongi does not even allow him to second guess the decision as he brings their lips together.

Jimin tenses briefly but recovers immediately as he kisses Yoongi back. Soft, velvety lips feels heavenly against the older’s thinner ones. They pushed and pulled as if they can’t get enough of each other and for several seconds they stayed like that, stealing each other’s breath until they needed to stop as they are becoming more deprived of oxygen. Jimin pulls away with a gasp and Yoongi’s heart clenches when he observes the younger’s cheeks are wet from tears.

“What was that?” Jimin asks thickly, voice rough from the emotions. Yoongi can only imagine how the younger is feeling, the enormity that there is more to life than he is living right now as a mortal.

“Those,” Yoongi says as he wipes Jimin’s tears with his thumb. “Those are memories from your past lives. It’s what happens when a grim reaper kisses a mortal.”

“We have past lives?”

Yoongi nods. “I see it too, when I touch you. That’s why I’m always hesitant to touch you. I’m sorry I didn’t really mean to but it’s just too much sometimes.”

Jimin gapes before he’s nodding. “It’s…okay. I understand now. It is very overwhelming. I’m sorry to upset you like that, hyung.”

Yoongi is taken aback that it’s the younger that is even apologizing to him. “No. No, sweetheart. You make me feel a lot of things but none of them bad. Never that.”

He starts to worry when the younger continues to stare at a distance as he goes over the cruel cycle of welling up and blinking away his tears. At some point, Jimin searches for the older’s hand. The grim reaper gives it willingly and without protest.

“I’m sorry to surprise you like that. Are you okay, my heaven?” Yoongi didn’t know where the term came from. It just slipped from his mouth like it’s natural to him.

Jimin starts at the endearment, waking up from his stupor. “I’m sorry, what?”

He flushes but continues with his inquiry. “I was asking if you’re okay. It’s totally fine for you to freak out. I can only hope that what you saw are all happy memories.”

Jimin blinks before he smiled so bright Yoongi could almost forget that it’s already night time. “Yes hyung, you were there.”

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, confused. “What?”

“All the past lives I saw, you were there and I knew it was a happy memory.” Yoongi gasps. And his heart started doing this staccato rhythm that couldn’t be good for him. “It’s true. Not all of them may be perfect but at those instances that you were there for me was always the highlight of my life. Also, thank you so much for saving me then.” The grim reaper quickly understood when Jimin places a gentle kiss at the tender part of his wrist.

“But… most of them. I was too late. Jimin I’m so sorry.” He remembers Joohyun who lived a solitary life for being believed as unstable for her dreams and Jeonghwa who he was unable to go to at the right time. And most of all the Jimin in the past. The very first one. He doesn’t know what exactly he did but Yoongi knows deep in his heart that he did something wrong in that one. It was as certain as his love for the Jimin he is facing right now.

He was cut off before he can apologize any further. “Now you’re crying too.” It was Jimin’s turn to wipe the tears but instead of his fingers, the younger kissed the sadness away from his cheeks. The grim reaper is impressed of its efficiency because he feels himself smiling a little at Jimin’s motions. “And don’t be silly, hyung. It doesn’t matter how long. The important part is at some point, we were together and that is more than enough for me.”

Yoongi is not thoroughly convinced, the responsibility to make Jimin happy in every lifetime is etched deep into his soul that he really can’t believe that Jimin is happy with the actions he made in the past. Jimin must have noticed because he pouts and tries to glare at the older in reprimand. “Stop that. I can practically read your mind right now. It’s not that bad is it? We’re here now as me and you as yourself. There is no better way to live than now, with you---together. Those things happened in the past but we’re here now so stop feeling guilty about things that you had no control of.”

He sniffles, nodding. Yoongi feels magnanimous with Jimin’s love and it’s illuminating the huge void that is present in his heart. “You’re right. We’re here now.”

“But, hyung?”

“Yeah?”

Jimin grins, eyebrows wiggling mischievously. “I have a favorite. There’s one where we were husbands. I love that the most.”

That’s the first one, he wanted to say. He has no recollection about it either--only snippets when he holds Jimin--since he only remembers being a grim reaper before he even knew he has Jimin. If he had to choose though, that one is his favorite too. In all the past lives he saw and witnessed with his very eyes, Jimin looks the happiest there in that first one. “I don’t know. We can be like that in the future too if you want…?”

The younger laughs, his cheeks coloring a delicious pink. The smile bunches up his eyes as it formed into pretty half-moons. Jimin didn’t saw how the grim reaper sighed in adoration. “Such a sap! But yeah. I would love that. We’re going to beat that lifetime,” Jimin says with such determination that it’s too cute for his cold heart.

He rolls his eyes or at least he tries to because no one can really do such thing when Park Jimin is staring at you adorably in the face like that. “How about we acquaint ourselves with our competition some more,” he insinuates as he pushes his lips forward the tiniest bit.

This time, Jimin really did roll his eyes. “You only need to ask if you wanted to kiss me so bad, Yoongi.”

Yoongi didn’t need to ask as Jimin kisses him anyway.

In all the past lives that he saw, no one beats the happiness in Jimin’s whole being than the Jimin he is looking at right now. Maybe the younger is right that him being there actually helps. Yoongi has no time to ponder about it further. There’s just no time in between the happy kisses they are currently exchanging.

○

“Are you taking pictures behind my back again?”

“No?”

Yoongi hears a distinct sound of an object being thrown away. Such object suspiciously sounds like the camera Jimin likes so much. He sighs tiredly before he’s taken aback at the surprise kiss in his forehead. “How…?”

“Stop pouting. I hate it when you do the sad pouting.”

The grim reaper sighs. “Fine.” He fights off the smile that wants to split across his face.  

Jimin beams at him. “That’s more like it. Now where’s my camera? I hope it wasn’t broken.”

○

“Hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you always been a grim reaper?”

“It’s the only thing I can ever remember. Except of course, your name.”

“My name?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah. And your face.”

“I wish I remembered too so that I can search for you. Maybe then, we would have met sooner.” There’s a pause and then Jimin is so close his breath starts fanning over Yoongi’s eyelashes. “Oh hyung,” Jimin remarks thickly, voice sad.

“Why?”

“You’re crying again.”

He didn’t knew he was. “I’m so sorry you had to forget Jimin. Hyung’s really really sorry. And I’m sorry you always had to die, my heaven.”

Jimin’s expression is crumpled in confusion. “But it’s just dying hyung. You have it tougher. You had to live.” Yoongi’s hand tightens against Jimin’s shoulder. “Living with those painful memories must have not been easy at all.”

He could have argued that the painful ones were mostly the times he lost Jimin. Other than that, his heart was full of love and happiness for the younger. He chose not to say it, not wanting to see the hurt in Jimin’s face again.

“Y-yeah,” he replies, voice cracking. “It wasn’t easy at all.”

Jimin kisses him on the cheek. Both cheeks. On the forehead. On the lips. And then he rubs their noses together. “From now on, I want you to be always happy, hyung. You deserve it. And you have me so I think I can do a good job.” Yoongi giggles a little as Jimin’s thick eyelashes tickles his face. “From now on, when we’re together, you will just be Yoongi. Not the grim reaper, not my past lover or former friend. You’ll be my Yoongi. My only one. We will focus on the now and we will be so happy that all the other Jimins and Yoongis will be jealous of us.”

A chuckle erupted from him. “That’s pretty ambitious.”

“It is. But it will be easy. It’s us we’re talking about.”

As a reply, Yoongi kisses Jimin on the lips and they stayed like that for a while.

Forgetting will always be difficult but loving Jimin is the easiest thing Yoongi ever had to do in his long life.

○

“Since you will be a normal human to me now, you should probably have a surname,” Jimin proposes suddenly while they were walking home from the park.

He shrugs, not really caring so much about that stuff. All he wanted was a name to be called by Jimin and he already have one so it’s not that a big deal to him. “Doesn’t really matter since I don’t need it.”

Jimin huffs, not satisfied with his response. And then he lights up when he thought of a bright idea. “How about you take my surname instead?”

“Park?” he considers before he shoots the younger a teasing look. “Are you proposing me to Jimin? Is this the part where I gasp in happiness?”

“Don’t be silly, hyung. You’ll know when I propose. There will be too much flowers and confetti involved.”

They share a laugh at that. Jimin wipes his eyes, thoroughly amused with his own joke. “I can just call you mine then since you’re so uninvolved with this surname thing.”

Yoongi pretends to hug himself to protect his dignity. “Oh no. He’s a possessive one. What shall I do?” He receives a light slap on the shoulder for that which he knows he totally deserves. “Min. That sounds like a Korean name right? When we’re alone you can be sappy and call me whatever you fancy.”

Jimin abruptly pauses from his walking which pulls a frown from the older. “What are you…”

“Hello. My name is Park Jimin. It’s been a while.” The younger stretches his hand in an offer for a handshake. “You look familiar. What’s your name?”

The grim reaper caught on quickly as to what Jimin is trying to do. He straightens his posture and puts a considerable distance as one would when meeting an old friend. Or a total stranger that may or may not be the love of your life.

“Min Yoongi. Pleasure is mine,” he complies with a grin. They’re both grinning like idiots now to be honest but Yoongi doesn’t care. “It’s been a while. I’m so happy to meet you again.” He stretches his arm to take a hold of the other’s, but instead of a handshake, Yoongi pulls Jimin into his arms to hug him tight.

Yoongi may be imagining it, but he could have sworn that Jimin whispered ‘mine’ before he hugs the older back just as tight.

○

Yoongi does not know what exactly he did until he was given a clue in the form of a sullen Jimin who refuses to talk to him. He had asked three times already what was wrong but Jimin keeps on saying that there is none as he snips off the thorn from the roses. The grim reaper is sure that the younger is lying because he treats his task as if the roses offended his ancestors. Or his fingers. Jimin is both very sensitive and proud of his cute little fingers.

“Just tell me what’s wrong or I’ll start pouting like it’s nobody’s business.” Yoongi knows how Jimin hates it so much so he decided to use it to his advantage for once.

Jimin gasps, clearly offended. “You will not.”

“Try me,” he challenges.

“Fine! Just tell me who were those girls that you always talk so fondly about?! They must be so pretty for you not to forget them,” he says with a huff, refusing to look Yoongi in the eyes.

Yoongi was confused for exactly six seconds before he gets it. Ah…the past versions. But in the younger’s mind they must be past lovers. He grins to himself. “Ah yes. There’s this one woman. She’s a very patient one and a great painter too.”

Jimin’s lips twists distaste. “I’m not very good at drawing,” he mutters to himself. “She sounds nice,” the blond says in a louder voice.

Yoongi fights off the urge to laugh. He chose to focus on the smaller’s hair to prevent himself from doing it. “Then there’s this nice lady. Looks very similar with the painter I was talking about. She was a famous ballerina.”

“I can dance. Well, a little,” Jimin laments in a voice that is about to cry.

“Then there’s the florist. I adore him the most because he looks exactly like my former husband. And oh, he’s the most gorgeous too. Such nice, smooth, golden locks,” he adds in what he hopes is a dreamy voice but it’s hard when you’re fighting off every instinct to giggle.

As soon as he mentioned the blond hair, Yoongi watches at it finally dawns on Jimin that he is talking about the same individual. Different bodies sure, but all Jimin just the same.

It is cute that Jimin thinks he will fall in love with anyone but him while it’s also downright hilarious that Jimin is jealous with the past versions of himself.

“You—you jerk! I was so anxious!” he yells in a watery voice, face beet red in embarrassment. Yoongi enjoyed laughing for three minutes because of Jimin’s reaction.

“Come here and listen closely when I tell you that there are no other options. It’s always been you,” he states with a soft smile.

Jimin slaps him lightly again before falling all over Yoongi’s arms. “I’m glad because it’s the same for me. But if we’re going with full disclosure. I kissed this girl once in…”

Yoongi jerks away from the younger. “I want her name!” he barks.

“It was in middle school and my classmates dared me to!” Jimin retorts in between giggles.

“I just need her name, I’m not even asking for her social security number. I’ll just call her name three times and I can just--”

“Min Yoongi, you will not take the soul of the girl that I kissed once when I was just a kid!” the younger scolds.

“Kiss me then, stupid! You made me jealous!”

Such a shame, they were having a moment and now it’s all ruined. Stupid middle school kids and their stupid bets.

It took half an hour of making out before Yoongi can finally forgive Jimin. In between, while catching their breaths, Jimin whispered how much Yoongi is loved and how he’s the only person he will ever love in the past, future, and present. Who cannot forgive Jimin with such earnest words, Yoongi will always wonder because that certain someone is definitely not him.

○

“I feel like I’m violating so many rules by doing this,” Yoongi mutters in dejection as he opens his office to Jimin.

It’s in between two old buildings that few people frequent to and so no one ever knows how there’s a door that only a grim reaper like Yoongi can open. Or how it’s much larger than it appears on the outside. It’s even larger than his nice apartment which was only like that in the first place because of his superiority and tenure in the service. Inside, it houses a large mahogany table with one seat specifically for him and another for the soul that needed it. No one is sure how many, the chairs just magically appear as required. The walls meanwhile are covered with shelves of different tea concoctions, each one placed in boxes of various colors and sizes. No two souls receive the same tea and it is upon the grim reaper’s discretion whether what should be offered in each one of them.

“Don’t worry. I won’t touch a thing, hyung,” Jimin whispers in awe. The moment he stepped inside, Jimin has been extra quiet like he’s afraid of disturbing the peaceful calm enveloping the office. He cranes his neck when he hears the different kinds of wind chimes producing pretty sounds. “This place feels so…different. It has the same aura with the big temples I’ve been to before.”

He simply nods in agreement. The office do make you feel suddenly reverent, making you take things in a more contemplative and mature manner. It’s mostly peaceful and Yoongi likes it that way since most of the hard decisions that he ever had to do as a grim reaper were done in this place.

“It’s so beautiful. Makes me feel like a lousy shop owner when compared to my work place.”

“Your shop is just as beautiful, Jimin. And besides, I have no input with this place since I was just assigned here when I started working so you should be prouder with your achievements.”

Jimin smiles. “Thank you. That means a lot for you to say it like that.” He watches as the younger delicately runs his fingers through his tea set, treating it like glass that could break any time.

They froze at the same time when a firm knock is sounded by the door.

“Please tell me that’s not your supervisor, hyung.” Jimin whispers urgently, eyes wide.

“Damn it, we’re so screwed if it is,” he answers, equally panicked. “Here, just hide under the table for a second. I’ll handle this.”

“Okay. Okay, I can do that,” Jimin parrots before scrambling under until the only thing that he can see is the tip of the younger’s shoes. He taps it with it his foot hurriedly before answering the door.

He swings the door open and decided that he will not let anyone on the other side of the door know that he’s panicking. “I have an important client so no visitors allowed,” Yoongi’s voice decreases in volume when he sees who’s behind the door. “You’re not a grim reaper,” he states flatly as he takes in the other man’s countenance. He is much taller and has broad shoulders. He looks young but not much older than Yoongi although that means basically next to nothing at their field. Once, he talked informally to a fourteen year old kid, only to be smacked because she was apparently a 500-year old grim reaper. The man is smiling and his features are so beautiful and symmetrical that Yoongi’s first instinct is distrust. No one should be that beautiful.

What gives him the most about not being a grim reaper though is his bright red clothes. He is dressed head to toe in scarlet, including his obnoxious hat. A little tacky for Yoongi’s taste.

The man just smiles brightly at Yoongi’s barely concealed scowl. “God of Birth at your service!” he states grandly with a flourish of his right hand. The other one holds the signature black box of the grim reapers’ parcel. He notices Yoongi looking so he offers the box. “I was talking with your sector’s supervisor earlier. Actually, no. We argued a little bit. It was not pretty,” he makes a face and Yoongi is irked how it did not even lessen the man’s beauty. “Your department is so prone to mistakes it’s enough for the staff of internal services to bang their heads against their desk. Such migraine they had to suffer for centuries. And the amount of paperwork! Don’t get me started!” he shakes his head in sympathy. “Anyway, would you mind if I come in? I’ve always wondered how a grim reaper’s office looks like.”

Yoongi dutifully nods his head. The God of Birth seems unfazed that the conversation has been one sided for a while now. The grim reaper opens the door wider as he allows the taller to enter the premises. He cringes internally at the contrasting image of the colorful man stepping foot on his monochromatic office. A God of birth stepping foot inside a grim reaper’s office seems blasphemous at best.

And then he promptly remembers that Jimin is still hiding under his table. He leaves the God to wander around as he carefully drops the box somewhere to crouch down and fetch his lover.

He smiles a little bit at Jimin’s disgruntled book and he helps the younger on fixing some stray hair away from his face. “You okay?” Yoongi asks while rubbing at Jimin’s slightly reddish elbow. Jimin nods while pouting.

Yoongi will admit that he forgot that another person was even inside with them as he and Jimin stare at each other before the God of Birth produces a sound of surprise.

“And who’s this?” he gasps loudly, ever the dramatic one.

“This is--” Yoongi was only beginning to explain before the taller walks towards Jimin in three long strides.

“Park Jimin,” he declares with what could only be described as pride. He gently takes a hold of the human’s shoulder before smiling wide. “It’s such joy to see you’ve grown up well. I was happy when I blessed you, my child. One of the brightest souls I ever helped to create.”

“Uhm,” Jimin swallows nervously. “Thank you. It’s an honor. Mister…?”

“Mister?! Hyung is just fine! Don’t make me feel old, child!”

The God of Birth laughs and it’s jarring to hear a windshield type of noise juxtaposed to such a beautiful man. Yoongi releases a breath. He’s more comfortable now with the other’s existence. The fact that the other’s hands remains on Jimin’s shoulders doesn’t sit well with him though so the grim reaper makes sure to stand beside the smaller closely.

“I was just about to say that Jimin here, is not a client. He’s a visitor since he’s also very curious about how a grim reaper’s office looks.”

The beautiful man’s eyes flits over between the grim reaper and the mortal briefly before it lights up with knowing and delight. The God of birth didn’t ask how odd their situation is or how a grim reaper is not obligated to please a mortal’s request. “Ah I see. Of course Jimin is just a visitor! You have no business being here since you still have a long and interesting life to lead, aren’t you little one?”

This is the moment where Jimin chooses to bow in earnest, too starstrucked to be seen and recognized by an actual god. “Ah yes. Thank you very much. It’s an honor to see you too, hyung. I promise to take care of my life.”

God of Birth just laughs, clearly amused as he tells Jimin to stop bowing and making him feel old. Yoongi could have pointed out that calling mortals his child is not exactly making him look any younger. He fights the urge to roll his eyes at the exchange.

The God of Birth switches his attention back to Yoongi. “I need you to check the parcel’s contents first before you sign a document. I want to give it back to your supervisor immediately and exchange more words about how he runs his department.”

Yoongi complies, checking the box and is not that surprised to see that it was a delivery of fresh batch of tea. The usual was there: an abundant amount of chamomile, some elderberry, a few lemon citron flavors and… His hand halts at an unfamiliar packaging. This one is wrapped in thick yellow paper adorned with daffodils. The seal is the same as the others though, a wax seal stamp shaped like a resting white butterfly.

“Huh. What’s this one? Is this new? It’s my first time seeing it,” the grim reaper says as he brings it up for the man that delivered it to see.

He hums, inspecting it without touching. “Oh yes. That’s a new one. Honey mango tea. Orders from above,” the tall man explains while pointing his index finger at the ceiling.

“What a pity to the one who will drink it. Mangoes are disgusting,” Jimin comments with a wrinkle of his nose.

“You don’t like them?” the red-clad man asks in surprise.

“Yes,” Jimin agrees. “Nothing wrong with their taste but I once fell off its tree when I was young. Never liked its fruits ever since,” he explains further. Yoongi finds himself nodding along and then stops himself. Somehow, he just knew that Jimin hates mangoes.

“Indeed, such a pity. Most people like the taste of mangoes and find them…refreshing.” The man’s face is carefully arranged to sympathize with Jimin’s sentiment. “All right, grim reaper. Are there any other questions?”

Yoongi shakes his head slowly before bringing the new tea back to the box, he’ll sort all of them later. He suddenly looks up when the God adds something. “You’ll know when to use it, No. 13.” Yoongi may be imagining it but the God’s gaze lingers a second too long at Jimin. Or maybe it’s just Yoongi’s shoulder he’s looking at. Perhaps he’s just overanalyzing things but it was still enough to make him uncomfortable as shivers run down his spine.

Impossible. The God said it himself that Jimin still has many years to live. The grim reaper chalks it up to his usual paranoia of losing Jimin. 

He makes a quick work of double checking the contents, cross-examining them with the one stated in the document just to get rid of the ill feeling along with this beautiful man who knows too much to Yoongi’s liking.

When they finally say their goodbyes, the God of Birth waves at the two like a celebrity, even going as far as to blow them a kiss. Yoongi only rolls his eyes when the man has his back turned, his tacky and overly bright clothes an eyesore in the broad daylight. Meanwhile, Jimin is giggling clearly fond and taken with the beautiful man.

Jimin sighs. “I must say, hyung. I’m really quite popular with these kinds of crowd. What’s next hyung? A vampire? Fairy? Oh! How about a goblin?”

Yoongi snickers before snatching the smaller’s hand and interlacing their fingers. “Don’t be absurd, Jimin. Goblins don’t even exist.”

○

“Do you believe in soulmates, hyung?” Jimin asks one day while they share a lazy afternoon. Just like how he is teased by the younger for his feline characteristics, Yoongi is perched on the windowsill of the flower shop, a few strokes of hair away from being asleep.

He blinks with bleary eyes at the younger. “How do humans usually describe them?”

Jimin hums while continuing on curling the grim reaper’s hair around his fingertips. It’s making Yoongi sleepy. “A soulmate is a person’s other half, I guess? Like the perfect half of a pair.”

Yoongi mulls over this. If Jimin is supposed to be his soulmate, then he thinks that the boy being his other half wouldn’t be the most accurate description. Other half would imply a clean break, one neat split in the middle. But in his case, Yoongi has too many cracks, holes, and jagged edges in his heart and soul and only Jimin can fill all those with his love. His simple smile illuminates the darkness that his heart has been so used to. His mindless existence as a grim reaper can be compared with that of a dark tunnel while Jimin is the light in the end of it. One can’t help but follow it no matter how terrifying the journey is.

“I don’t think so, no,” he eventually replies. “But I do believe in a person that completes you wholly. In my case, that’s you Jimin.”

It left Jimin speechless for a few seconds before his face splits into a smile so beautiful Yoongi never wanted to look away. When he blinks, his almond eyes are a little shiny. “Such a sap you are, Min Yoongi,” he releases with a sigh. “You complete me too, my love.”

“You’re the cheesy one,” he retorts. “Where’s all this coming from?”

Jimin shakes his head. “Nothing. I just love you so much.” The younger thumbs through his jaw until it reaches his lips. Yoongi lets him without any protest. “Someday, I will not be like this anymore and you won’t age a year.”

Immediately, Yoongi is straightening his back with a frown. He has a feeling he won’t like where this is going and it sounds too much like a goodbye. But Jimin presses himself against the grim reaper. “I have to say it, Yoongi. Just hear me out, okay?” The blond places a hand against the grim reaper’s chest and waits for it to steady to its normal pace before he continues. “I will not give up, Yoongi. I will search for you in all the lifetimes until death gives up on us. I may not always remember you in all of my lifetimes but I promise that I will love you in each one of them.”

“I’m a grim reaper, remember? I’m immortal and I’m pretty sure death already gave up on me,” he retorts with sass even though every muscle on his heart wants to cry out in pain because of the younger’s words.

The severity of the situation is palpable and yet Jimin still manages to giggle. “Then I’ll search for you through a thousand lifetimes until life gives up on us. There. Is that any better?”

A thousand. Yoongi does not know if they can really afford that. He doesn’t have the heart nor the courage to say that as far as he knew, there are only four and this is the last one that they can be together. This is the lifetime where Jimin should be cherishing his harvests. And there’s a lot to cherish because the Jimin he knows is good, kind and bright. Park Jimin deserves everything.

Yet Yoongi agrees, nodding with a gummy smile. Because when given the choice between right and wrong in the face of someone you love, Yoongi will always choose the one that will hurt Jimin less.

“Please do. I’ll be waiting.”

“But for now, I’m going to make you so happy. I want you to learn to love things again that you couldn’t afford to when I was gone. We’re going to enjoy so many things that life has to offer.”

○

Predictably, they started with foods. Because Jimin loves eating and apparently, he has a hidden skill with cooking.

“Oh my God. I should have met you sooner. You make the best stew, hyung,” Jimin moans as he shoves another spoonful of broth to his mouth.

“Just for the stew?” he inquires with raised eyebrows.

Jimin grins, clearly teasing. “Yes and your kimchi too. Who could resist your stew and kimchi, hyung?”

Yoongi huffs but the truth is he enjoys cooking for the younger too much to complain.

He couldn’t keep track of all the food that they tried after that. Because of these little adventures, he even developed an appetite after taking long walks in the park. Jimin is influential like that.

If he will pick a favorite though, he loves the simple ones the most. Those that are so basic, no one will think twice of them when in a restaurant.

“Really? Rice cakes are your favorite?”

He nods as he chews.

Jimin grins. “That’s great. Mine is your kimchi.”

Next came the places. They didn’t travel that much in the first place since their time is limited with both their jobs needing to be handled in between. So instead, they scour the town for all the pretty places that they can visit.

“Did you like this shrine, hyung?”

“Shhh. Be quiet. People are praying.”

“This café is nice too. Right, Yoongi?”

“Jimin, we are a regular here.”

“What’s this? A new art installation? What do you, think hyung?”

“Jimin! That’s a trashcan. Get your hands off that!”

“Did you enjoy the museum, hyung?”

“It’s good.”

“You always say good to all the places. You’re no fun!”

What Jimin does not understand is that every food, place, and things he experienced and visited was enjoyable in the first place because Jimin was there with him. Rice is less bland with Jimin. The park is brighter and the grass greener with Jimin. Hell, he can even see the charms of the garbage can with Jimin. Every moment with him will always be a happy one because Jimin is there.

○

Another discovery: Yoongi learned that he loves his own kind. And by that, he meant cats. He has long accepted that the younger will forever associate him with cats. And cuteness. But you never heard him say that.

Jimin found her abandoned in a garbage dump, place in a box near the shop and he knew the younger was just barely holding it together as he gathers the calico in his arms, the kitten trembling so much that Yoongi helps Jimin to stand up. That’s when he realized that Jimin is shaking too.

They did the best that they can that night with what Jimin has in his place to warm up the abandoned animal. The next day, they immediately rushed the kitten to the nearest veterinarian and were both heartbroken to hear that it’s up to the kitten if she will survive since she was abandoned too young too soon. Still, the doctor did her best on checking up on her condition and giving the two men some recommendations to keep her health up.

One night, with both of them cocooning the frail kitten between their bodies, the most delightful thing happened. Jimin is humming a tune as the animal sleeps. It’s what she does most of the time and Jimin’s sadness comes off in waves every time he looks at it. Yoongi on the other hand, has resorted on running his hands on the blankets surrounding the kitten. The roughness of the fabric brings him some sort of comfort. This kitten’s life force is waning, Yoongi can feel it but he’s not that as well-trained in reading animals as compared to humans.

Both their breaths stutter when the bundle of softness between them blinks slowly and opens its mouth to let out the loudest mewl they ever heard from her. Ever since they picked her up, she hasn’t let out a single meow and it’s one of the reasons it was bringing their spirit down on her survival.

“Oh my God,” he chokes at the same time that Jimin bursts out crying.

“She has the prettiest voice,” Jimin whispers in awe. They were both hesitant on touching her fully but a tentative touch in between her ears sends her meowing again like it’s nobody’s business.

“She survived, Jimin. She’ll lived,” Yoongi grins as he runs his hand through her soft fur. “What should we name her, then?”

Jimin did not even bat an eye as he answers readily. “Serendipity.”

“I—I like that.” He pauses, considers. “But it’s too long. Let’s call her Dippy sometimes. It can be her nickname.”

“Okay. You like that Dippy? You’re our little serendipity,” he murmurs with their noses touching. “Isn’t is so beautiful, hyung?”

Sure, life is beautiful. It can be surprising that way. “Yeah. It really is.”

○

Not all days were happy though since no matter how in love they were, there will always be some instances that will challenge their days. Of course, Jimin will have his bad days. As for Yoongi—he has been a grim reaper for centuries now but there will always be certain deaths that will chip away the armor of his heart.

Jimin easily understands when such times happened during the job so as soon as the grim reaper enters the shop, Jimin will let him sit at the couch upstairs where the younger lives. Once the opening hours are done, the blond will sit with the silent man and play whatever he likes, usually Jimin will play sad movies.

One time, Yoongi notices that this is the fourth time Jimin has played this particular movie. And in the end, he’ll see the younger subtly reaching for the tissues as he wipes away the tears.

“Come here, you big baby. Why do you keep watching this when it makes you cry in the end all the time?”

Jimin attaches himself like a koala once Yoongi gestured for him to draw near. The next thing he knew, he’s getting a handful of the boy on his lap.

“I thought that if I watch it again and again it will be less sad you know?”

Ah. But sadness doesn’t work that way.

Yoongi just continues to cradle the younger as he occasionally runs his hands across the smaller’s back. When he felt Jimin finally calming down, he places a kiss on the junction between the boy’s neck and shoulder blade.

“I’m so sorry you have a bad day at work, Yoongi.”

Sadness doesn’t work that way at all.

○

There is too much blood for a simple cut on his palm and Yoongi is starting to worry how he can clean it immediately before Jimin arrives back at the store. It happened so suddenly. One second, he was lifting a decorative glass and the next it shattered all over the floor. In his haste to get it away from where Jimin may step on it later, he did not even notice the cut until he was placing the broken pieces in a paper bag.

He hisses as he probes it with a finger. Yoongi makes a quick work of cleaning it and wrapping the wound with a bandage. He encounters a small problem though when he was unable to tie the ends in order to finish it.

And that’s exactly how Jimin finds him moments later with the bandage in his mouth as he pathetically tries to tighten it alone.

Jimin gasps even before he saw the wound and Yoongi already prepares himself on how to explain the cut as gently as he can without the younger panicking.

“Jimin please---” he urges softly.

“Just let me see it,” the younger snaps, cutting him off. Jimin has his palm open, asking the older to put his hand on it. He reluctantly did and his heart stutters when Jimin releases a shaky breath. “It’s still bleeding too much. Let me check on it and see if there’s still a piece of glass in it.”

Yoongi just allows the younger to do it, staying quiet as Jimin retrieves the first-aid kit to get the tweezer because it turns out that there really is still some glass left on the wound.

“How long was I gone while you’re bleeding?” Jimin asks after a few minutes as he finishes disinfecting the wound a second time.

The grim reaper knows the question is loaded and there’s a lot of things running on the florist’s mind. “Just a little. Don’t worry about it. It didn’t even hurt that much, I swear.” He searches the younger’s face and is a little sad to see that it’s carefully neutral. He knows that behind it are overwhelming emotions waiting to be released.

“Don’t even dare tell me not to worry because that’s just plain stupid,” Jimin snaps again in one breath only for the younger to release a tired sigh. “It really doesn’t feel good huh?” Jimin states flatly. “You claim that it’s just a cut and it doesn’t hurt and yet I’m so frustrated with that few minutes I wasn’t able to help you with your pain. I can only imagine how…it’s just a tip of the iceberg of how you felt all those years,” he ends in a whisper.

Yoongi sighs and pats Jimin’s head with his good hand. Jimin ducks his head quickly. He will never admit that the frustration and hurt has already made a hole in his heart. He wouldn’t say it out loud for Jimin’s sake.

“You look like you want to cry,” the younger comments softly with glassy eyes.

He nods slowly. “I want to but I’m too sad right now.”

Jimin gulps with an effort. “That’s okay, I’ll just cry for you then.”

And so Yoongi takes Jimin in his arms as the younger sobs years’ worth of tears in behalf of the grim reaper’s suffering.

○

A rainy afternoon when Yoongi went home from his office, a small part of the universe made sense when he walks up to Jimin’s apartment and he lingers at the door. The younger haven’t switched the lights on yet and so the room is bathed in the cerulean glow of the night sky that fast approached with the aid of the heavy clouds. Jimin’s golden locks stands up as the only bright thing in the room. He notices the small cactus plant that he had gifted the younger months ago for Dippy’s first birthday.  Jimin’s back is turned to him as he gazes at the window of his room, Dippy at his side looking curiously outside as well.

A memory.

No. A painting.

It’s fascinating how Jimin’s past-self showed Yoongi the picture of his future. Or perhaps it’s a map in which the stars will guide him back to his one true love. It seems fitting that he finds his sun among the other bright stars.

Joohyun was meant to show the grim reaper that he has a past as Yoongi and therefore a future to look forward to. Jeonghwa helped Yoongi to cherish the present so as not to do the same mistakes that he will regret later. While Jimin, both the first one and the present one is meant for Yoongi to love with all his heart. They all lead back to one boy only, Park Jimin. 

Jimin must have felt the grim reaper’s gaze as he swings his neck to the side. He smiles at Yoongi and then it wasn’t only Jimin’s hair that was lighting up the room. “Hello, my love,” the younger greets, voice sweet and gentle at the same time.

But the Jimin he is looking at now is not a memory nor a painting so Yoongi steps forward and joins him.

○

Yoongi does not understand what was it in his face that made Jimin laugh so hard he becomes a useless lump on the floor. Well, a useless lump on his arms because he gathered Jimin on his arms, still cackling. Silly boy he may be, Yoongi doesn’t want Jimin to land on the floor and hurt himself.

Maybe it’s what he said. “What’s so funny with me filing for an early retirement?”

“S-sorry,” Jimin stutters through his giggles, desperate for air to multitask with talking to the older and continuing with his laugh. “It’s just…. Is it still early retirement when you’re a hundred years old?”

“More than 300 actually,” he supplies helpfully.

“Centuries years old,” Jimin corrects himself in a placating manner. “And what? Do you guys get life benefits? No! Death benefits seems to be the right term.”

“Ah making fun of the grandpa, are we?” He crosses his arms against his chest, a little irked with how Jimin finds this all funny.

Jimin recovers after some time, placing his hands against the other’s chest so that Yoongi releases his arms in the process. He exhales one huge breath before an easy smile paints his lips. “What happens then, my love?” And Yoongi sees it for what it really is. Jimin is scared of what happens next.

He is quick to place a chaste kiss against the smaller’s lips to comfort him. When he pulls away, Jimin is blinking slowly as if dazed. “No one really knows. I’m the first of my colleagues to do it. And no one of the older grim reapers knew someone who already retired. I just saw the form by accident and I figured it’s worth a try.” He pushes the hair out of the younger’s face to see his face clearly as he stares the younger in the eyes. “It may not work but if it did, it means that I can be free of my duties and all I’ll ever worry about my passing days is taking care of you. The one soul that only ever matters to me.”

Jimin smiles, swallowing warily. “Okay. I like that very much. More time for us to be together.”

“Yes, my heaven. We will have all the time in the world.”

“Time,” Jimin whispers.

○

Waking up to Jimin’s messy hair and sleepy eyes. It’s a thing now. It’s an actual thing that is really happening to someone as inconsequential being like him, Min Yoongi. Sleeping in the same bed is nice too with the both of them cuddled together and Jimin being the big spoon but Yoongi loves the mornings best because it means another day with Jimin beside him. And nothing beats that feeling in the world.

It was Jimin’s idea for Yoongi to move in with him. Besides, you’re going to live in here anyways when they accept your retirement, hyung. We’re just being economical and advanced thinkers, Yoongi. Remember that. Jimin had argued that time. And well, Yoongi has always been easy on letting Jimin have his ways especially when the younger has a point. Why sleep alone in a cold, lifeless apartment when he can stay here—in this place full of life and the sun right by his side.

Yoongi protests though when his nose is suddenly met with Dippy’s butt. This too is another normal occurrence for him now.

Jimin must have woken up by the noise as he laughs lowly all the while separating their cat away from his lover’s face.

“Dippy’s saying good morning to you, hyung.”

He grins as Jimin manages to wrestle their now very healthy and heavy cat into his arms, petting the space between her twitching ears. The calico purrs in content. “Oh yes. Such a young, nice lady she is,” he remarks dryly.

Their eyes met and they both smile. Yoongi did the honorable thing of kissing Jimin in the forehead.

Jimin’s smile is lazy, eyes a little swollen with sleep. “Is the grandpa cat saying good morning as well?” he coos.

“No,” he answers. “This cat is saying I love you.”

○

“Should I study the meaning of flowers now? I may be jobless soon after all.”

Jimin looks up from the bouquet of flower he’s arranging. It’s for a wedding and the younger is more particular in the arrangement for such events. Yoongi knows that Jimin enjoys them a lot too hence the amount of concentration and effort he puts into it. “Yes. That’s a good idea, hyung. It will be a family business. Dippy has the most important job, breaking the vases and pouring the soil to the floor, am I right?” Jimin scolds in a stern tone towards their cat on his side, limbs stretched out in relaxation. Serendipity merely thumps her tail on the table, unbothered.

Yoongi laughs at the cat and Jimin’s affronted look. “Why don’t we start now? Teach me the some of the symbols of the flowers we have here.” He gestures at their shop full of blossoming plants, multitude of colors bursting.

He watches as Jimin makes a face before grinning. The blond places a hand over his mouth in a mock whisper, tone conspiratorial. “It’s a good thing I do well in arranging them prettily, but to be honest there’s so many of them there are times that I forget their meanings. Here’s a trade secret: when a customer asks you and you forgot, you just wing it and tell them what comes up in your head.”

He gasps dramatically, eyes comically wide as he places a pale hand over his collar. “Why. You’re such a lousy owner! The family business is in its road to ruins!”

The younger makes a face before giggling. “But it’s true! I love flowers. Trust me, I really do. But I can just give you anything and it can have different meanings as long as I wanted to. You don’t believe me?” Jimin challenges with one hand over his hip. “Okay. I can give you this when I want you to know you’re pretty.” Yoongi watches as Jimin brings up a bunch of white roses. “This one when I want to say I missed you.” This time some carnations. “And this when I want to say I love you very much.” Jimin emphasizes as he lifts some lavender stalks in exasperation.

Yoongi smirks. “I’m starting to think I know more about flowers than you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Jimin says with a laugh. “But in the end they’re just flowers and they will wilt just like dead leaves. What matters is the message the giver wanted you to feel when they offered you those flowers.”

“A florist saying these things. Oh, the blasphemy,” he teases further.

Jimin crosses his arms against his chest. “Fine. If you’re so confident, I want you to make me an arrangement. It will serve as your official job application.”

He copies Jimin’s stance which produces a cute little huff from the younger. “Okay. Deal. But you’re not allowed to look.”

Jimin’s lips purses in annoyance. “Fine! Get your materials here in the shop and arrange it in your own office then. I promise I won’t peek. Remember that you have to please me because I’m the owner.”

Yoongi chuckles. “I’ll do that. I’ll show you I deserve to be accepted for this position, sir!” he dutifully replies.

Jimin laughs so hard that the grim reaper momentarily forgot what flowers he wanted to choose for his own bouquet.

The thing about flowers is that no matter how pretty or vibrant they are, they all end up as dead leaves anyway. Maybe Yoongi should have listened intently to Jimin that time.

○

The arrangement he made is a simple one. It’s composed of two flowers only: daisies and daffodils. Small white petals and slightly larger, pale yellow ones. Both means new beginnings but he chose to add the daisies despite its simplicity due to the simple reason that it has become to be his favorite since it’s the first flower Jimin ever offered to him. He even have some of the dried ones on his journal. That, and it means purity.

He feels proud to be honest because in his opinion it turned out pretty since their colors complement each other well. He could almost imagine the shocked expression Jimin will sport when he sees this and he knew it will be followed by Yoongi’s favorite bright smile. He hums a tune under his breath, arranging some documents at his table, preparing to go out so that he can leave for home as early as he can.

The grim reaper pauses when the wind chimes tinkles as they are disturbed by a small gust of air. He looks down to see the door opening, revealing Jimin wearing one of his nicer coats. It belongs to him but Jimin loves it so much that he allows the younger to borrow it when it’s cold and Jimin needs to go outside.

He beams at the sight. “Oh hey, Jimin! What brings you here? Are you seriously that excited about my job application that you can’t wait for me home?”

Jimin merely smiles. A soft one. “I just missed you a lot, my love.”

The cold settles in his chest immediately and he wonders why Jimin remains hovering at the door.

He re-evaluates Jimin’s smile. It’s not soft at all but a sad one. One that he hasn’t seen in a very long time hence why it took longer than normal for the grim reaper to understand.

The door.

It clicks in the blink of an eye. Only a grim reaper can open that door. No being in the mortal world can open it unless---

Yoongi drops the flowers, forgetting that he needs to be careful with it. “No no no no,” he whispers. “Jimin. What did you do?” he asks in horror.

The younger remains silent for so long that it feels like years have passed. It seems that speaking physically pains him as Jimin swallows repeatedly. “There was an accident,” Jimin answers and the younger had to pause when the older chokes out a sob.

“No! Please tell me it’s not true,” Yoongi pleads.

The blond shushes him gently as he brings a palm against the grim reaper’s face. “There was a road accident on my way home,” he repeats. “And there was a kid in the middle of the road.”

His whole body shakes when Jimin quietly slips a white card into his hands. Then he remembers what Jimin is wearing. That’s supposed to be Yoongi’s coat. He should have been the one wearing it.

The card was like any other cards he ever received. It is white. It has a flower at the center. It has a name and date in the middle. Curse them for appearing randomly when a grim reaper needs to take a soul immediately.

How laughable from the Deity that he assigned Yoongi to take his own lover’s soul. The second time. Such cruelty in an already long punishment.

Park Jimin. 27 years old. Cause of Death: Vehicular accident.

Another sob erupts from his mouth when he reads the date. October 13.

Thirteen. Yoongi used to be called like that when he still didn’t know he has a name. It really is an unlucky number.

He steps back, his face pained. “You knew? You knew and you still did it?”

Jimin shakes his head sadly, closing the distance between them. He takes the older’s hands. Yoongi accepts it reluctantly. “I saw it minutes before the accident. It just happened, hyung and I know that if I can turn it back, I’ll do it all over again.” Yoongi flinches. Jimin grips the other’s hands tightly so that their intertwined hands won’t be torn apart. “You have to understand, hyung. It doesn’t mean I love you less when I chose this path.”

Jimin was supposed to live long. He was bright. So bright. Even the God of Birth said so. But there are certain times when a human can change his own fate when he wills it enough.

Jimin was supposed to live long with him.

“You hurt me,” Yoongi sobs. “You’re hurting me, Jimin.” Because no, Yoongi will never understand. Maybe it’s because they are humans. Humans and sacrifices have an understanding since time immemorial. So no, someone like him could never understand.

“I know. I’m sorry, my love. It was never my intention. All I ever wanted was to see you smile every day.”

Yoongi could easily say the same words back to the younger. Jimin’s happiness have always trumped his own. He has a guess that it is the reason why he is born at all.

Jimin brings his hand again to hold Yoongi’s face. He gasps in surprise when a memory flashes through him, unbidden. It’s a new one and something he never saw before. A frail looking Jimin lying in the bed. So frail he could be mistaken for a corpse. And in his sullen cheeks, there are tears and yet Jimin’s eyes are dry.

“Promise me something,” Jimin starts to say but Yoongi’s already vehemently shaking his head. He hates promises. He doesn’t like them at all. The smaller raises his other hand to stop the grim reaper from his motions. “Live for me, Yoongi. Live long and well. And trust that I will find you. You remember right? I will search for you through a thousand lifetimes until life gives up on us.”

“But I don’t know how,” he croaks out and he realizes that he sounded very much like a child and yet he doesn’t really care. “I don’t know how to live without you.”

“You can. You already survived without me before. What’s a few more years?”

Yoongi’s answer is quick. “It’s an eternity for me alone.”

Jimin disagrees with a shake of his head, a sad smile still on his lips. Yoongi has half the mind to hurt Jimin for still being able to smile like that when Yoongi is sobbing his heart out. “Despite your stubbornness not to call us like this, we are soulmates hyung. You’re already complete and you don’t need me for that. The reason we’re together is because we’re meant to share the same world together. I may not have a legacy to leave now but you’ll always find me inside your heart.”

He shakes his head furiously again. Jimin has a legacy. A very important one. It was for existing and changing Yoongi’s course in life.

There is little satisfaction in seeing tears flow out from Jimin’s eyes as well. Yoongi lets the younger’s word sink in. It took long because his heart is a beating wound at this point.

When you love someone, you feel a combination of emotions towards them. Happiness, hate, anger, relief, joy, content and so much more that he can’t even begin to name. The grim reaper should know because he feels all of them towards the boy that was staring at him with the universe in his eyes. When you love someone with all your heart, you don’t get to pick a single emotion but rather choose to take action that hurts them the least.

Because loving someone is choosing to mend his pain first before your own and if it takes a promise to make Jimin happy, then that’s exactly what he will do. Even if it breaks his soul to pieces.

“I promise to live just so that I can wait for you.”

Jimin smiles his devastating smile but there’s no need when all of Yoongi’s parts are already shattered. “And try to be happy while you do.”

“I-I’ll try.”

“Take care of yourself and try not to forget about me.”

With tears still leaking, Yoongi’s lips twitches upwards. “I would if I could but that’s simply impossible.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, why don’t you brew me a tea?”

○

The God of Birth was right, he’ll know when to use the new kind that was delivered to him. The grim reaper let the honey mango tea steep for exactly three minutes and thirty three seconds. For added measure, he searched for the honey jar to add more sweetness. Jimin hates mangoes after all.

He’s a little annoyed that the tears won’t stop leaking since it’s disturbing his vision and interrupting his work. He got used to it eventually, long past caring where his tears landed. It went everywhere, flooding his office with the salty water.

“It’s ready,” the grim reaper announces lowly.

Yoongi observes Jimin carefully picking up the forgotten flowers on the floor. The blond gathered all the broken petals that he can to place it in the wrinkled paper of the bouquet. Jimin walks slowly to the table before sitting to the chair opposite the grim reaper’s.

“It’s a little disheveled but I like your arrangement very much. What does daisies and daffodils mean for you?”

Yoongi chooses to focus on a petal that landed on the apple of Jimin’s cheek. It hurts less that way. “You know,” he states in a neutral voice.

Jimin casts his eyes downward toward the bouquet. “Yes, I know.” The boy glances up again with a smile. “You’re accepted in my flower shop. You can start working whenever you want. There’s a surprise waiting for you at the topmost shelf of the register.”

He knows what Jimin is trying to do, cheering him up by letting him know that there are still some things waiting for him but it won’t work for now and he actually feels sorry about it. “Drink your tea, Jimin.”

The younger obliges, taking a tentative sip before scrunching his nose in distaste. “I’ve always hated mangoes but thank you for making it sweet, hyung.”

“Anything for you, my heaven.”

“Let’s practice.”

His eyebrows scrunches together in confusion. “Huh?” He lost his focus on the petal making him stare back at Jimin’s earnest eyes.

“When we meet again—because I’m sure we’ll do—I’m going to say, ‘Hey there’,” Jimin begins, changing his inflection into a friendly one.

Yoongi plays along because in a few minutes Jimin will be permanently gone and he’s going to do the best that he can for his lover’s last moments to be happy. “And I’m going to say, ‘Hello to you too. You look familiar, have we met before?’”

Jimin grins in delight. “And then we’re going to exchange names and we’ll fall in love and be together again.”

He sets his face into a stone to prevent himself from sobbing again. It was useless as Jimin bawls for the first time since he entered the grim reaper’s door.

Yoongi is the one to gather Jimin in his arms this time. “Don’t be sad. I promise to wait for you. As long as I have to.” He plucks the petal away from Jimin’s cheek and lets it sway with the wind as it drops to the floor ever so quietly. The grim reaper places a tender kiss of his soulmate’s forehead.

And with that, Jimin drinks the last of his tea and leaves for the door. Not for the first time, it’s somewhere Yoongi cannot follow.

Their story in this lifetime is both a sad and a love story. It narrates a sad love about a grim reaper who loved a mortal and the mortal who loved the grim reaper equally if not more.

 And yet the mortal needed to pass through a door leaving the grim reaper alone and that made the grim reaper very very sad.

Part 4. Bella Ciao

“I love all the roads that we will walk together.

I love all the sceneries that we will see together.

I love all the questions that we will shyly ask each other and all the answers to those questions.

I love you in all those moments.”

-The Goblin’s first and last bride to her lonely and shining groom.

Yoongi’s face was long dry when dusk reached the windows of his office. He makes no move of cleaning the cup Jimin used. He’ll keep this one and replace it with a new cup for the future souls to use. When he finally stood up, his knees cracked in protest. He picks up the bouquet again but there’s no happiness on carrying its weight unlike before.

The flower shop is the same when he returned. It’s as if their owner never passed away at all. But Yoongi knew that if he listen and look closely, that each stem, petal and leaves are in mourning as well. Numbly, he flips the closed sign on the door and makes his way behind the register.

As promised, at the topmost shelf is the surprise Jimin was talking about. An apron. The same one Jimin uses when he works on the store. Worked on the store. He needs time getting used to that. When he inspects it further, his breath hitches at the embroidery at the left breast portion of the apron. A single daisy and beneath it, his name.

Yoongi. He can almost hear the younger saying his name in his signature sweet voice.

He cries not because he doesn’t like it because he do, he loves every detail. What pains him is seeing his own name because it hurts to say when he can’t even call Jimin’s anymore.

Jimin is such a liar. He meant to give the job offer to Yoongi in the first place and yet he still asked the grim reaper to prepare those flowers.

A light scratch on his arm stops him from releasing another gush of tears. He glances beside him to see Dippy with her head tilted to the side, tail swinging from side to side before she lets out a loud meow.

“It’s just you and me now, sweetheart,” Yoongi tells him.

Serendipity blinks slowly as if telling her that she doesn’t understand what the grim reaper is saying.

“I don’t understand either. But Jimin says he’s sorry for leaving you behind.”

A softer meow before she pushes her small head against Yoongi’s hand. He pets her and scratches behind her ear where he knows he like it the most. She didn’t purr like he expected but she rests her head at the table as Yoongi continues to run his hand at the calico. The way she’s lying down, Yoongi could dare to describe her posture as gloomy.

When his attention turns back to the apron, Yoongi allows himself to cry again until his eyes can no longer produce anymore liquid. All the while, Serendipity lies down as she waits for Yoongi to pet her again.

Time becomes unbearably long when you’re waiting. And it’s much more intense when you’re waiting for someone you love. It doesn’t help that he sees Jimin everywhere. They’re like shadows waiting for him at his weakest to swallow him whole with their darkness.

Yoongi sees Jimin in the cracks of the pavement, in the fruits that he eat, in the dust on the windowsill, in Dippy’s relentless scratching of the door at night and most of all, he sees Jimin in the flowers. And it’s especially difficult when you are surrounded by them. It’s a family business and Yoongi owns the flower shop now.

There are certain smells that triggers a memory. He doesn’t know why it makes Yoongi turn his head, expecting for the younger to kiss him on the cheek- only to be disappointed when he is met with a cool breeze instead. There are sounds too that abruptly reminds him of the younger.

One of them is the ring of the bell at their shop. Similar to the one that sounded just now.

A young girl enters the store one lazy afternoon. Her aura is bright and she’s smiling at Yoongi. It’s odd.

It’s odd because she brought white tulips in a flower shop.

“Ahjussi. These are for you,” she says softly.

“For me?” he parrots in mild surprise.

The girl nods shyly. “It’s for the man that saved my life. Please thank him for me. I couldn’t at the hospital because all the doctors were busy with him. Eomma told me I can’t tell him personally so please tell him I’m grateful that he saved me. I can still play the piano because of him.”

Yoongi glances outside and sees a woman that must be the girl’s mother, standing behind the door. Her expression is solemn and it didn’t take long for the grim reaper to understand that the mother had to bend the truth to protect her child. That Jimin, someone’s dear lover, sacrificed his long and happy life to save someone else’s precious daughter.

Yoongi offers a small smile to the little girl. “The man who saved you is Park Jimin and I’ll tell him that you are very thankful.” The girl looks up from the floor with wide, expectant eyes. “And I’m sure that if he’s here, he’ll tell you that you should continue to play the piano well for him.”

The girl nods furiously. “I will! We have a concert at our school and I’ll be one of the performers.”

She then smiles so brightly that it helped Yoongi reached a realization. Maybe it’s wrong to call his memories of Jimin as shadows. The blond will probably hit him for even thinking of them as that. Because Jimin is the source of his light and therefore it is only appropriate that the paths and things that he touched are bright. Shadows did not have a place where Jimin is involved because every moment with him shined.

“Play well for Jimin, okay?” he replies in a thick voice. He receives a happy nod before the girl comes skipping out of the store. The woman catches Yoongi’s eyes and gives him a grateful smile. Yoongi nods back before getting a vase for the white tulips.

Serendipity comes down with a terrible virus on Jimin’s third death anniversary. The doctors are unable to help and the medicine wouldn’t work on the sweet cat’s suffering.

“Tell Jimin I miss him when you two happen to meet again,” Yoongi whispers to Dippy as he cradles her in his arm one night. She has no more energy to lift her head but she purred when Yoongi said it. The grim reaper takes it as an agreement from his dear companion.

Serendipity passed away one rainy night atop the windowsill of the apartment. The same one she always perches on when she accompanies her former owner. The grim reaper did not fail to notice that she died on a Wednesday.

He’s been kept busy with managing the store and gathering the souls that he needed to attend every day. Working to the point of exhaustion helps, even for a little. But at night when he needs to sleep, it’s not that easy to ignore the loss.

It’s just him on the apartment now and he’ll admit that he’s lonely. During the times that the pain is unbearable, he’ll remind himself that Jimin wants him to live a happy life. To live. Dying is hard but living is ten times more difficult.

“I still have me,” he whispers at night and in the morning he looks at Jimin’s side of the bed and greets the pillows and bed sheet a good morning.

Yoongi waits.

Namjoon and No. 40 visits Yoongi when they are free and he’s thankful that they never say a word when he opens the door with puffy eyes and wet cheeks. Instead, they will rudely intrude inside the apartment and stock up his fridge with food that he swears he can never eat on his own. He allows his colleagues to use his place as their meeting place for the occasional drinking sessions. Yoongi will not deny that he always anticipates for No. 40 to speak in that ominous voice again. But it never happened again and the only thing those two grim reapers achieved is get drunk as they crash into his apartment.

During weekends and the two are not available, he’ll sit himself in the sofa and make himself watch Jimin’s favorite sad movie. He watches it till the end and challenges himself not to cry. He succeeds on his fifth try. After that, he searched for another movie that is a guaranteed tear-jerker.

The sadness really doesn’t go away but Yoongi knows that already.

Still, Yoongi waits.

When he’s not particularly busy and has nothing else to do, he sits himself opposite the window’s biggest apartment. Jimin’s favorite spot. He sits there until the sun sets. And when the sky’s colors  reaches the critical point of bleeding red and dark violet, the grim reaper commits it to memory.

The world is still beautiful without Jimin.

The world has always been. You just have to find the right moments to search for it.

It’s as if the blond, shining boy is whispering the words to him.

Yoongi allows himself to smile.

A decade after Jimin’s death, Yoongi knows exactly what to do.

The grim reaper starts preparing.

He arranges the documents passing the flower shop under Namjoon’s name. Yoongi asked No. 40 if he would like to help in managing the store.

No. 40 agrees immediately, a boxy smile on display before he frowns. “But I don’t understand hyung. Why are you passing Jimin’s shop to us? I know it means a lot to you.”

The two grim reapers ignore the pain that flickers on Yoongi’s face at the mention of his lover’s name. “I’m just making sure that it will be in good hands. I may take a vacation some time but I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows are pinched in concentration, clearly not buying his explanation. “Will you be back?”

Yoongi nods, certain of his answer. “And kid,” he tells No. 40. “Call me Yoongi. I know you’ve always been afraid to say it even if you can see it in my name tag when I work.”

The younger exhales in huge relief. Namjoon and No. 40 exchanged glances. Namjoon nods encouragingly at the younger. “And my name is Taehyung, Yoongi hyung.”

Yoongi is surprised, but only a little. After all, Namjoon and Taehyung have been the closer friends from the start. He can bet that the younger already knew No. 43’s real name.

He accepts Taehyung’s name with a soft expression. “That’s it then. I’ll see you soon, Namjoon and Taehyung.” It’s nice to say the name of his colleagues out loud. No, these are his friends and they’ve been through a lot of tough times enough for their relationship to be labelled as friendship.

“See you soon, hyung!” The two grim reapers say at the same time. Yoongi smiles and bids them goodbye.

But as everybody already expected, Yoongi will not see the two grim reapers soon. Not so soon.

Yoongi waits.

In his office, the tea set is ready to use for brewing fresh tea. He already unpacked the cup that Jimin used before to drink his own and sets it in front of him. When the wind chime sounds followed by the ring of the bell on his door, Yoongi almost smiles.

The God of Birth’s attire is as obnoxious as ever. The grim reaper frowns when the taller struts in confidently after a single knock.

“Another delivery?” he questions.

The man sighs dramatically. “I’m afraid yes. And also, another argument with your supervisor.” The man in red sets the box gracefully at the table. Yoongi makes no move of reaching for it.

He grins a little at that. “He’s a hardworking man. Please took a little bit of pity in him.”

“I’m sure he is. But that man’s beliefs are too traditional it makes my skin crawl.” He pauses as he gestures at the empty seat. “May I?”

“Please,” Yoongi says with a flick of his hand.

The God of Birth makes himself comfortable. He stares at the sight of the flower vase at the center of the grim reaper’s table. Ever since that day, Yoongi has kept fresh daffodils and daisies on his office. A sort of remembrance of a promise he once made. “I’ve heard about Jimin. Such a kind soul to sacrifice his life for a little girl. The Deity will not forget that child’s kindness.” The beautiful man’s face is pulled into a sympathetic one and Yoongi already knows that the God of Birth will offer no condolences. He never does. “How have you been with that sweet child gone?”

Yoongi lets out a humorless laugh. “Miserable for one. But I try my best to keep my promise this time. Jimin was right with many things. I’m already complete on my own and it’s a lot harder to live in return of all the love I received.”

The God of Birth smiles beautifully.

“And I already have a response to what you said to me before,” Yoongi continues. “Watching Jimin live and witnessing him die over and over. It was never a punishment, is it? I’ve already decided that having the opportunity to meet him is a gift. I will always love him and Jimin loving me back whenever he’s alive is the reward of my life.” The grim reaper smiles and meets the man eye to eye. “Isn’t that the answer you wanted to hear, God of Birth? Or should I call you properly…” he pauses as he searches for a reaction. “…Deity?”

The Almighty appears glad to be recognized. If possible, his expression becomes more open and his back straightens even further. The grim reaper’s office becomes ten times brighter as the God allows his natural aura to be released but it dims a little as the grim reaper squints with the sudden brightness.

“There is no right or wrong answer because it was never a question, Yoongi.  But I must say that I love what you just said very much.”

Nothing much changed on the man’s voice but Yoongi can feel the power behind every word uttered. The grim reaper bows respectfully as the God lets out a gentle laugh. “I’m afraid this really is a God of Birth’s body. I happen to borrow it for a while since this present God is having his own doubts about his existence.”

Yoongi decides not to comment on how the Almighty utilizes his power to appear to his creations but instead chooses the opportunity to ask a question. “Why are you so curious about us? Why did you follow me that closely? I’m just a drop in the ocean.”

The Deity sighs like he has been asked the same question a million times. Maybe it is the case. “Yes. But you are my ocean. I created all of you to be happy and make your lives beautiful, for all my children to shine the best way that they can. The Deity appears only once in the lives of all the beings that I created but I was curious about you and Jimin. I believe I myself learned a lesson or two about the strength of human will while watching you.”

“Were you satisfied about me and Jimin?”

“I am relieved to see you love each other in every lifetime,” the Deity corrects him. “All I ever wanted was for you to be grateful of the gift of being born.”

“But I threw away that gift once, right?” The Deity says nothing as Yoongi nods in understanding. “It’s okay. I get it now. I am what I am today because I didn’t keep my promise in my first life. I knew it when I saw a memory of Jimin dying of an illness. I knew I wasn’t strong enough then to live without Jimin. It’s safe to say that I learned my lesson now about keeping my promises.”

The Almighty smiles like one would to his newborn child. It was a sacred moment. “I am glad,” he says in a soft voice.

Yoongi shrugs as he finally inquires about a decision he made years ago. “And I also believe that my retirement as a grim reaper is long due.”

The beautiful man nods as he pushes forward the box, a delivery in his own words. For the first time, Yoongi acknowledges the package as he reaches to peer on its contents. Inside is a single tea packet. A familiar one. The same tea he brewed for Jimin. It has the same daffodil decorations and the same embossed wax seal of a white butterfly.

Yoongi looks up when he hears the Deity let out a soft chuckle. He raises a questioning eyebrow, wanting to know what’s so funny.

The deity shakes his head a little. “It’s just amusing that you promised to wait for Jimin through a hundred lifetimes while simultaneously believing that humans only have four lives. I really need to update my children’s old beliefs. This is why I don’t get along with your supervisor.”

Yoongi gapes at the information for a while before also letting a chuckle of his own. What are humans after all if not for sticking to their beliefs? It only seems right though since there will be no use for searching the Almighty if mortals have the knowledge of all the secrets of life.

They both stay quiet as the grim reaper prepares his own tea. Once done, Yoongi looks at the Almighty before taking a sip.

The Almighty dressed as a man smiles at him gently, urging him to take the drink. “May your meeting with him be quick and your love eternal.”

Yoongi agrees but he already knows that is what’s going to happen. That’s what he’ll try his best to achieve. He knows he’ll spend lifetimes doing it.

Yoongi drinks his tea and he will not remember this part but  after that, there was a moment of brightness that is enough to blind mortals.

At the end of the grim reaper’s story, there is no need for him to be told that his waiting is done.

II. Of Beginnings that Never Ends and Infinite In-Betweens

“Through the infinite centuries and beyond

In the previous life and maybe the next too

We’re eternally together”

 

Yoongi wakes up to a soft sniffling and a small yet warm hand splayed against his chest. Despite being tired, he wills his eyes to open. Vision still a little blurry, he is welcomed with the sight of Jimin breathing harshly against his chest. The boy’s heartbeat pattering as he intently feels for Yoongi’s heartbeat.

“What is it sunshine?” he asks, voice rough from being awoken abruptly. “Breathe for me, Jimin. Hyung is here.”

Jimin stares at him wide eyed before cupping Yoongi’s cheeks, expression a little shaken probably from another bad dream. “Had a nightmare, Yoonie. Am sorry for waking you up,” the younger whispers at him in a thick voice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently while carding his fingers through the smaller’s silver locks.

He feels Jimin shake his head against his shoulder but after a while he whispers, “I dreamt of you crying. And it’s awful because in my dream, it was me that made you sad.”

Yoongi laughs a little at that. “It really is just a bad dream then. How could it be, when all you make me feel is happy?”

The younger tenses before looking up again to Yoongi. “Really?”

Yoongi nods. “And loved.”

He is slightly surprised when Jimin kisses him wetly. But only slightly as Yoongi kisses him back. He runs his palms against the smoothness of the skin of the younger’s hips which was exposed as his large shirt rides up a little. Jimin whimpers at the electric touch which he returned by running his nose through Yoongi’s collarbone.

It didn’t take long for each part of their bodies to be claimed by the other until no one will know how Yoongi ends or Jimin begins. It was just them, together as a single unit, touching and caressing as time stretches like a taffy with their hearts beating as one. They went on for hours as they are reduced to a trembling mess interspersed with soft gasps, pretty moans and whispered I love you’s. Many, many I love you’s.

At some point as they almost pass out to their beds, still staring at Jimin’s soft eyes, Yoongi feels so overwhelmed with love that he can’t help his eyes welling up.

“Oh no, Yoonie. Why are you crying? Did I hurt you? Tell me, my love.” Jimin was quick to coo at him as the younger massages the back of his neck while his other hand is helping to wipe up his tear-stained cheeks.

He chuckles a little at the question. “I should be asking you that, not the other way around. And how many times do I have to tell you that you can never hurt me? Silly, kitten,” he rasps out. His voice is a lot rougher this time as the pull of exhaustion becomes more urgent. “I just…” he trails off and watches as Jimin pauses from his ministrations to stare at the older earnestly. “My heart just felt so full and I love you so much sometimes I just want to--” he makes a motion of putting a hand to his chest and then ripping it out with a fist.

Jimin laughs and then smiles so gorgeously it was enough to take his breath away. Yoongi wishes to say that he’ll get used to it sometime but it only appears that the longer he’s been with Jimin, the brighter and more beautiful his smile is becoming. Probably a side effect of being in love.

“No need to show your heart to me, Min Yoongi. I already know what you feel. And I feel the same about you.” Jimin pushes the hair out of his forehead to place a kiss on it. Yoongi is already smiling when the younger breaks away as Jimin’s happiness has always been infectious. “You know?” Jimin asks.

“I do,” he answers confidently.

They only have two hours before Jungkook’s exhibit but it was Jimin who insisted that they have enough time in the world to stroll around the area at first. He relented because he was weak in the face of Jimin’s requests accompanied by a cute pout and pretty pleases.

They saw the flower shop at the same time, the name of it not quite typical. Jamais vu, the sign says in the front. Jimin suggested that they can shop for flowers as their gift to Jungkook.

“We hit the jackpot, hyung. It’s like we were meant to find this store.”

Jimin was momentarily distracted from entering when his attention was caught by a calico cat bathing in the sun leisurely at the bench. “Go ahead and look around first, hyung. I’ll just pet this pretty cat.”

He smiles fondly at the sight of Jimin being enthralled with how the cat stretches its limbs. He sighs. Jimin and his obsession with cats. A cursory glance tells him that the cat has a pretty name too. Daisy Bloom. Cute. Even the cat has a surname.

A bell sounded when he opens the door and he allows himself to take in the atmosphere inside the shop. It’s very cozy, like one would feel like when they toe off their shoes as they finally went home. He was greeted by two young workers wearing brown aprons, the names in their tags indicates them to be Taehyung and Namjoon. He bows politely and signals that he’ll look around first but was surprised when one of the men, Taehyung, drops the cutting shears he was holding with his mouth shaped into a large ‘O’.

“Hyung. Yoon--” Taehyung was just about to say when the taller one cuts him off. Yoongi frowns, wondering how this boy knows his name.

“Excuse me, Mr. Min. My co-worker here and I are a huge fan of your music. We’re actually an avid listener of all of your albums.”

“Oh,” Yoongi says before rubbing his nape a little shyly. Although his stage name Suga is more well-known, he guesses that it doesn’t stop some of his fans from researching his real name in the internet. “That’s really—I mean thank you for supporting my music. I appreciate it,” he adds as he smiles at the two florists with what he hopes as appreciation.

“This is my co-worker Taehyung and I’m Namjoon,” the taller of two continues, his face pinched with unrestrained combination of a happiness and sadness. Yoongi wonders why.

He bows again. “It’s nice to meet you two. Well, you know me already but I’m Yoongi.”

Taehyung seems to have calmed down now since he’s the one to speak first this time. “It’s been a long time, hyung. It’s so nice to see you again.”

Yoongi is a little taken aback at how Taehyung is overly familiar with him but he is more curious with himself since he’s surprisingly not annoyed by it.

“Congratulations by the way. We saw on the news that your wedding will be in a few weeks,” Namjoon says.

This time, Yoongi blushes at the mention of his fiancée. He subtly turns around to glance at Jimin who is still busy with petting the cat. The younger’s mouth is moving and he can only imagine the soft, high voice that Jimin is using as he utters sweet words to the cat. He can’t help the fond smile that escapes his lips. “Thank you. And yeah, the wedding is soon.”

“Have you played the piano for Jimin?” Taehyung asks suddenly, his eyes a little glassy.

Yoongi frowns, surprised at the abrupt change of topic but he nods nonetheless. Because yes, he had played the piano for Jimin many times already. Right now, Jimin is his inspiration for eighty percent of his music and the remaining twenty percent is for his appreciation of being born and meeting the younger.

“And have Jimin danced for you, Yoongi hyung?” Namjoon inquires as well.

In another lifetime, he will be annoyed with these two boys for asking such personal questions to him but he really can’t find it in himself to be offended with their attitudes. Looking at the two feels like talking with long lost friends. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “It’s not hard to when we’ve been together for years and your fiancée is a famous contemporary dancer. Jiminie’s a phenomenal dancer.”

“I bet he is,” Taehyung whispers. He is quite alarmed when Taehyung suddenly chokes out a sob. Namjoon shushes him quickly but even the taller appears to be trying his best not to cry as Yoongi observes his chin trembling.

“Excuse us, hyung. We’re just really big fan of yours. Go ahead and look around. Just approach us at the register when you picked one,” Namjoon tells him as he guides his co-worker away from Yoongi, shushing him all the while. Still confused, Yoongi was only able to nod.

He starts walking to inspect the different blooms, looking for one that will be appropriate for the occasion. Yoongi is not that knowledgeable about them since as a couple, Yoongi and Jimin loves eating tasty and sweet foods together instead of giving each other flowers. What he knows though is that Jimin’s best friend loves angel’s breath so maybe he’ll add that to his list.

Yoongi catches himself focusing on one specific flower, this one with pale yellow petals. It’s pretty. The sign underneath says that it’s called daffodils.

“Oh daffodils. They symbolize new beginnings and is most often associated with the season of spring,” a voice suddenly remarks from behind him. Yoongi jumps from where he’s standing to see who was talking to him.

He was met with a tall, beautiful man whose features can be compared with a Greek god. The stranger smiles and Yoongi immediately distrusts how perfect looking this man is. Also, he is dressed head to toe in scarlet. He is irked that this man was able to pull off that look.

The guy laughs as if he can read Yoongi’s mind and he had to blink many times as a windshield kind of sound is produced from his amusement at Yoongi’s expression. “I’m sorry for being nosy but I had quite the interest with flowers and their meanings for some time. So, do you like them? The daffodils I mean.”

He shakes his head a little from confusion and then nods when he remembers that he’s being questioned. “Yeah. I really like them. They’re very pretty in an unassuming way.”

“Do you plan to give them to your beloved, Park Jimin?” At Yoongi’s pinched eyebrows, the man added, “I apologize. I happen to overhear from your conversation earlier. Min Yoongi and Park Jimin are quite the famous lovers after all.”

Now, he’s starting to get really creeped out. He actually shivers. This must what famous celebrities feels every time. It’s just weird that a number of people in the same flower shop happens to know the two of them. They are fairly well-known but as far as he is concerned, he and Jimin are not that popular to the point that bystanders will recognize them immediately. Hold on, that’s not true. His fiancée is actually really popular among the girls since he has quite the fan base comparable with an idol.

Still, at the man’s honest expression and earnest eyes, Yoongi gets the vibe that this stranger who knows his flowers is genuinely curious.

“No, not for him. It’s for a common friend that we will be congratulating.” He fought the urge to add more details as the man smiles at his reply.

“Is that so?” the beautiful man hums. “And this fiancée of yours, do you cherish him so?”

The question itself was laughable. It’s similar to the man asking Yoongi if he likes coffee or breathing. Absurd questions are starting to be a norm for this day so Yoongi just accepts it for what it is as he quickly replies. “Of course, I do. He’s the only one for me.” Yoongi averts the man’s gaze as he opts to peer at Jimin behind the glass door of the shop. Jimin caught his eyes and the younger cheerily waves his hands, Daisy now situated on the younger’s arms. “I believe in soulmates because of him and I’ll try my best to live long just to keep him happy.”

Woah. Why is he opening his heart so readily to this man who he only met minutes ago?

Strangely, the man smiles gently at him and Yoongi could have sworn for a split second that his eyes glowed white. “You have the most interesting answers as always, Min Yoongi.” Before the addressed man can react, the red clad man produces a single flower seemingly out of nowhere. “You have my blessing. Here is an Esmeraldo flower. This is to show you my grace, my child.”

As if in a daze, he accepts it by its stem. It’s his first time hearing of such flower. He also can’t decide if it resembles an orchid or a rose more closely. One thing is for sure, it has one of the prettiest shades of blue he’s ever seen. If he will even dare say it, it looks close to his current shade of hair color although the flower in front of him is far more beautiful because it appears to be glowing when it hits the rays of sunshine.

“Thank you...What’s this one mean then?” he whispers in awe.

Again, the man smiles at him gently with a patient undertone to it. “I can tell you but I once heard from a certain boy that a flower can mean anything depending on it’s giver. I’ll leave that part for you to decide.”

He nods slowly as he inspects the flower further. He was just about to thank the man again but when he looks up, the man in red is gone leaving no trace behind. As if he wasn’t even there in the first place.

Yoongi shrugs. Maybe he was in a hurry. He moves away from the secluded corner of the shop as he walks toward the register.

There, he saw that the florists have relatively calmed down as they both graciously smile at their customer.

“Hello again,” Yoongi starts by greeting. “I would like to order an arrangement fitting for an achievement. Congratulatory flowers, in short. It will be great if you can add angel’s breath with it. Also,” he says as he shows the two the Esmeraldo. “Please ring up this one for me.”

The two florists freeze to stare at the item in Yoongi’s hand. “Where did you get that?” Taehyung asks as he looks at it as if it’s his first time seeing the flower in their own shop. “We don’t sell that kind of flower.”

“Uhm from a man...there?” he points tentatively at the area where he was previously perusing the daffodils. “He seems to know his way around the shop but he just disappeared so I’m not really sure.”

“What’s he look like?” Namjoon questions with a frown.

Yoongi frowns too, not seeing how that is relevant. Still, he complies. “Tall guy. Unbelievably beautiful and oddly glowing? Dressed head to toe in red.”

Namjoon’s expression softens as understanding dawns on him. “That’s yours then, hyung. We don’t sell that particular one in our shop. Consider it as a gift.”

By the time he was done with his transaction, his thoughts are in disarray, not even knowing how to start to explain it to Jimin when he goes outside. Still, when the workers bid him goodbye and asked him to come again, he nods with a smile because he has a feeling that he will come back no matter how odd the whole encounter has been. He had decided then and there that he likes Jamais Vu.

Jimin welcomes him with a warm hug and a kiss as soon as he sets foot outside. He tries to roll his eyes at the treatment. It’s not like he’s been gone for hours. But Yoongi fails because Jimin will be Jimin and Yoongi will always be weak for the younger’s charms.

“The weirdest thing happened to me,” Yoongi starts to say.

Jimin gasps. “Me too! This man dressed in red that looks like an actor told me that I was blessed!”

Yoongi’s eyes comically widens. “Yes! And he called me a child!”

“Wha—Really?! Same for me!” the younger blurts out.

They start laughing when their gazes met, Jimin joking that maybe it’s because Yoongi looks like a baby that’s why he was called a child. Yoongi poked him in the arm for that.

“Ohh pretty flowers!” Jimin exclaims as he notices what Yoongi is holding. “And what’s this one? It’s so beautiful.”

He shrugs. “I was told it was called an Esmeraldo. And yeah, it’s really pretty.”

Jimin shakes his head in disbelief as he gingerly cradles a petal. “I don’t think I’ve seen this one before, ever. What’s this one supposed to symbolize?”

Yoongi did not bother to narrate how he got it or how the two florists were cryptic about who it came from even when they were initially surprised that Yoongi was even holding it. Instead, he remembered what the man in red said about flowers and their meanings. “This one means I’ll love you forever. And this one is for you, Park Jimin,” he says with a grin.

_

Amazingly, they were able to make it to Jungkook’s exhibit with five minutes to spare. The young boy greets them in haste, looking quite petrified and exhilarated at the same time.

Jimin and he congratulated Jungkook with the flowers they got from Jamais Vu. Red-faced, Jimin proudly hugs his best friend, amazed at how far he’s come. Yoongi feels the same as he is a close witness at how the two grew up so well from the wide-eyed university students they used to be.

“Please look around as much as you can, hyungs. Feel free to approach me if you have any questions. For now, I have a few visitors that I need to attend so…” Jungkook trails off.

Jimin giggles as he pushes the boy gently telling the younger to go and make money. “Hyung and I are proud of you, Kookie.”

Yoongi grunts. “Don’t make him cry, sunshine. He’s going to be so embarrassed.”

“Am not!” Jungkook protests. “I’ll go now, okay? Have fun you two!”

“We will,” Yoongi says. He turns to Jimin with a grin as he offers a hand. “Shall we?”

Jimin smiles back, a soft blush painting his cheeks. Yoongi could have sworn that it’s the most priceless artwork in the whole gallery. “Stop being cheesy inside your head, my love. It’s quite loud and you’re going to make me blush,” Jimin says with a giggle.

Hand in hand, they walked around as they studied the different pictures and artworks the exhibit has to offer. There were other artists that contributed too since this was a university-wide event. Seeing the artist’s different perspectives about their passion was nice but being with Jimin and walking with him like they were the only ones in the place beats it by far.

“Please, let us not have a repeat of that one time in Rome where we got kicked out in the cathedral because you can’t stop laughing at the paintings in the ceiling,” Jimin whispers when a comfortable silence settles over them.

As if on instinct, Yoongi lets out a barely suppressed giggle. “What? It was funny and we only got kicked out because you were loud at laughing,” he playfully whispers back.

Jimin slaps his arm with a horrified look. “It’s because you won’t stop laughing! You know I can’t stop when you start laughing too.”

He raises one hand in surrender. “Let’s just agree that it was both of our faults.”

Jimin grins before nudging Yoongi’s shoulder only for his head to rest atop of it.

They eventually landed in a less crowded part of the exhibit, the atmosphere being more serene as they walk past the corridor. In one corner, there’s a lone painting being illuminated by a warm yellow glow. No one is looking at it at the moment so they both decided to visit that one. There’s a music box playing at the side, the tune resembling a lullaby as Yoongi commits it to memory. He likes the sound very much.

As they got closer, he saw that it was a simple painting of a boy with a cat looking at the stars, searching for something as they gaze at the window filled with stars. There was nothing remarkable about the picture it presents but there’s something about the feeling that it invokes in him that Yoongi can’t look away. It looks almost…familiar.

“Why do I feel suddenly nostalgic? Do you feel it too?” Jimin asks him in a soft voice.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak but words found him later on. “And melancholic too. Jimin, does this look familiar to you too?”

“I thought I was the only one but yes it feels like I know that boy too,” Jimin responds in a voice that is barely a whisper. They were reduced to silence for a few minutes as they stare at the painting. During that time, Yoongi takes the opportunity to take in every detail. The cerulean hue, the golden locks, the cute little cactus at the table, even the calico cat that brings a homey feel to it. Most of all, the stars in the painting’s sky, presenting a constellation that shows a map to somewhere in the vast universe.

“Serendipity meets Fate,” Jimin reads the description plate below it. “There are no coincidences because since the creation of the universe, everything is destined.” The younger pauses as he lets the words sink in. “Wow. That was really beautiful.”

“Yeah it really is. Oh my...what?” he asks himself, feeling lost as tears starts escaping from his eyes. “Why does this keep happening to me?”

Unperturbed and with their hands still intertwined, Jimin wipes them with the sleeve of his cardigan. “You feel that much for this painting too, huh?” Jimin tells him in understanding with a gentle smile gracing his face. “Wait. This is not wedding jitters, right? Because I will cuddle you if it is,” Jimin then asks sternly. “You managed my moods so well when I had it. God knows why you still want to marry me.”

“Don’t be silly. How else can I hear Jimin, the famous dancer, sing in the showers at mornings? Your voice is so beautiful it’s unfair you decided to be a dancer only. Of course I have to marry you.”

The younger merely rolls his eyes and they both jumped in surprise when they notice Jungkook grinning at them mischievously. “I was looking for you, hyungs. Please don’t make out in front of the paintings. I don’t want to explain to the press how you guys will do it everywhere anyways,” he teases. The younger’s eyes lights up when he observed what the couple was looking at. “Oh this one. I found it in the gallery archive of our department. No one really knows who painted it but I asked for permission to add this one because it fits well with the theme. One can’t help but feel nostalgic when they look at it.”

“It really does,” Jimin agrees. “Yoongi hyung and I really like it.”

“You guys do?” Jungkook asks. “I can help with the documents for the change in ownership. I’m sure I can talk it out with the department head,” the younger drawls before beaming. “This can be your supplementary wedding gift. Aside from the one I already prepared of course.”

“Oh Jungkook, we would really love to,” Jimin remarks, clearly touched.

“Yeah, Kook. I hope it works out,” Yoongi adds.

Yoongi and Jimin doesn’t know this yet but the painting will be approved for release and it will be displayed at the living room of their house they bought together. They will try to search for the painter’s name but the only thing they will discover is that the painting was donated anonymously last October 13, 1995.

Time passes by quickly when you’re planning a wedding. It was such a relief that their coordinator is also Yoongi’s best friend. Hoseok made the preparations look effortless, the younger mentioning that the biggest gift that he can offer is for him to make the big date less stressful for the engaged couple. Yoongi and Jimin will forever be grateful at how well Hoseok handled it.

Jimin and Yoongi got married on a Wednesday afternoon. It was a bright and sunny day with few clouds visible in the sky. The sun shone so intensely that day and the visitors took it as a good omen. Yoongi was simply thankful that it did not rain.

The ceremony was held under a hundred year old mango tree situated in Jimin’s ancestral home. The moment the two visited Jimin’s grandparents, Yoongi knew that he wanted it to be held there. There’s something about the tree’s resilience for many years that brings Yoongi the feeling of hope for his own relationship. Jimin agreed but jokingly said that he will still not eat mangoes after that.

Yoongi will not always remember everything that happened at their wedding but there will be certain memories that he will surely treasure; Like how Jimin and he predictably and funnily become teary eyed when they saw each other’s outfit. They were both wearing flowy white clothes. Yoongi has a long cape on his attire while Jimin’s collar is adorned with soft pink pearls and little flowery details. It makes Jimin look more and more like the angel he is. “We look like we’re about to enter the gates of heaven,” Jimin was able to say after they shared a good laugh. “Oh but sweetheart, we’re already in paradise,” Yoongi had answered.

He will remember Hoseok and Jungkook crying as well but pretending it never happened or how their cake almost toppled and destroyed when a stray cat comes bounding off the table and how Hoseok screeched  so loud when the butterflies were released.

However, there is a part of the ceremony that Yoongi will always remember with great clarity: the exchange of their wedding vows. To be more precise, the words will be forever tattooed both in his mind and heart.

Yoongi spoke first as he wipes his sweaty hands against his pants before handling the microphone. It’s something that he’s always used as a producer but at that time, the material is as foreign as the Esmeraldo flower he saw for the first time weeks earlier. When he looked at Jimin directly, the younger smiles and he can almost hear the encouraging words in that smile.

He only had to focus on Jimin’s eyes in able to concentrate and feel like they were the only ones in the area. Because it is. The words he is about to say is for Jimin and Jimin only.

“Park Jimin,” he starts. He clears his throat and his voice becomes steadier. “When I first met you, I will admit that I was afraid. Afraid that everything in my life will change if I let myself fall for you and it turns out I was right. Loving you is the easiest thing I ever had to do in my life and sometimes, it’s even easier than loving myself. It felt like the rug was pulled beneath my feet only for my back to meet the brightest stars and the softest pillows. And yes, I’m talking about your arms.” Jimin giggles and a smile quirks on Yoongi’s lips. “You are my best friend, my family, my soulmate, and my destiny. When I look into your eyes, I don’t see the universe because the universe is all around us but rather, you are the center of it, the one that holds everything together. You are my piece of heaven on earth and I will spend every moment of my life to cherish you. I will be thankful of every breath if it means another second of loving you.”

Once finished, Jimin’s eyes are a little red rimmed and yet he smiles brightly at Yoongi. He feels exhilarated to be able to convey his feelings in words. He may not be the best in expressing himself and he may be better at showing his love with his actions but he’s still glad that he was able to deliver his vow for Jimin relatively smoothly. The younger’s chin starts to tremble but Yoongi clasps their hands together to ground him. It proves to be effective as Jimin mouths ‘thank you’ to him.

Jimin lifts his own microphone to his mouth and the first thing he did is laugh. “That’s hard to beat, Min Yoongi but I will try.” Yoongi is vaguely aware of the laughter of the guests but right now, it doesn’t matter because all he can see and hear is the man in front of him. “Min Yoongi,” Jimin also starts. “Your name is very nice but you should start to get used to being called mine,” he adds teasingly. Yoongi chuckles. “I’ll set the record straight once and for all as witnessed by our dearest friends and relatives. You always compare me to the sun because you say I shine so bright but if anything, I am the moon and I only shine because you are my sun and my only talent is to reflect your light. Needless to say, I won’t shine so bright without you, Yoongi and know that all the light comes from you. My goal is to make you the happiest man alive but just this once, I’ll be selfish and dare to share that world with you. Meeting you is my reward and being able to love you and be married to you is the single greatest privilege and accomplishment that I can ever dream of. I don’t know what loneliness is because of you and I will not promise to love you because I already know that I will do it with all my heart and soul.” The younger pauses to step even closer to Yoongi, their noses almost touching as his to-be husband continues. “In a world full of uncertainties and doubts, being with you is the one thing that I know will never change.” Jimin beams and stares at Yoongi like he’s proud to be done with his vows as well only for the younger’s face to fall when he met the sight of the Yoongi’s face. “Oh my god are you crying?”

“Obviously,” he responds dryly. Not caring about appearances anymore, he brings a palm to caress Jimin’s cheek. “You win. Your wedding vow beats all wedding vows.”

Jimin laughs before shaking his head. “It’s a tie, Yoongi. I am you and you are me, not one should be above another.”

He only agrees because he wants to do the next step now.

Yoongi and Jimin kissed.

During the reception, Yoongi stares at everyone in amazement. And then his gaze landed on Jimin. Everything seems so surreal.

Jimin tugs his hand a little. “Want to dance?”

He nods wordlessly as he lets Jimin guide him in a more secluded area, away from the stares and attention of their guests. He trusts the younger since Jimin knows this place better after all.

There’s a small gazebo hidden away at the other side of the gigantic mango tree and they relish the silence of being the only one in their own little world, far from the attention of other people. The two starts swaying in the middle of the gazebo without any music, the only thing that can be heard as the sun sets are the leaves rustling and the crickets hidden somewhere.

“Hey there,” Jimin greets him with a grin, his hands briefly tightening on Yoongi’s shoulders.

Yoongi plays along. “Hello to you too, beautiful. You look very familiar,” he says with a convincing squint of his eyes.

“Yeah,” Jimin nods solemnly. “Have we met before?”

Yoongi lets his eyes widen in mock recognition which erupts delightful giggles from Jimin. “Why yes! If it isn’t my husband!”

At that, Jimin becomes a useless mess as he laughs so freely, his head falls over Yoongi’s shoulder. The younger exhales when he recovered. “Well, hello to you too, soulmate.”

Naturally, they stared at each other’s eyes finding the stars of the galaxies in one another’s soul. Their heads started moving even before they decided they were going to kiss. Their lips met halfway as they passionately tasted each other’s sweet promises in their mouths.

At the center of the gazebo, there’s small bell in the ceiling. Ever so quietly, a pure white butterfly lands as it witnesses the love of two souls that fought their best to find their way back to each other.

There will be several different versions of the stories between Yoongi and Jimin but only one thing is constant: That in the beginning, middle and end, Jimin will always love Yoongi and Yoongi will always find Jimin.