Jihoon woke slowly to murmured voices.
The alcohol smell of disinfectant filled his nostrils, and he knew he was in the hospital.
" . . . must have been upset, it's understandable with his grandmother's funeral, but this is the worst attack I've seen yet." Jihoon almost didn't recognize Dr. Choi's voice. The neurologist must have thought it important to attend directly to Jihoon's bedside.
"What are you trying to say about my son?" Jihoon's father asked.
My son. His brain and heart latched on to the phrase.
"I didn't think he would deteriorate so quickly. There is nothing wrong with him physically, but tests show his heart continues to get weaker. If this continues, it could be fatal." The doctor didn't mince words. Any other time Jihoon would have appreciated that.
When Dr. Choi left, Jihoon glanced at his father. He stared at the door, hands clutched to his chest.
Jihoon wanted so badly to call out to him like he would have when he was three. Would he come to him? Would he comfort him? And would it only be out of pity because he was dying? The thought made it hard to breathe. Dying. He was dying. He blinked away tears before he spoke.
"You must be relieved to rid yourself of a burdensome son." Jihoon's Hivoice sounded like the croak of a frog.
Jihoon's father spun around, her eyes wide as he realized he was awake. "Jihoon-ah."
"Why didn't you come before?" he asked, his voice a quiet plea.
"Why did grandmother have to die before you came? You should have known I needed you. You're my father."
"Jihoon-ah." His name was a sob on his father's lip. His father's grief should have bolstered him. Finally, proof that he cared and all he had to do was die. "I'm so sorry."
"I just wanted you to be there for me," Jihoon said. "That's all I've ever wanted." His body shook with tears. He was too weak to hold them back anymore.
His father came to him now, his arms warm as they held him. And he finally felt his pride dissolve. Jihoon held tight to his father for the first time since he was a little boy.
• • •
When Jihoon blinked his eyes open again, he didn't know how much time had passed. Hours or days.
Shane's face came into focus, and he sat up to the sound of beeping machines and humidifier steam. He let himself fall back against the pillows. The mere act of sitting up made him short of breath.
"How are you feeling?" Shane asked.
Jihoon didn't reply, just stared as Shane adjusted his blankets, fluffed his pillow.
"Your father stepped out, but he's coming back." Shane spoke quickly, as if to fill the silence.
"You should take souls," Jihoon said.
"What?"
He took Shane's hand between his. "You should take a soul."
Shane shook his head. "We don't know how that could affect you. And after this episode, it's obvious you're too weak. I won't risk it."
"If you don't, you'll die."
"I don't care about that."
"Wouldn't it be better that at least one of us lives?" Jihoon asked.
"No," Shane said emphatically.
"Don't you get it?" Jihoon asked, his monitors beeping a warning of a rising heart rate. "I don't want to live anymore. My father and my grandma are dead because of me, and my body is giving out anyway. Just take a soul. Don't be a martyr for me when I don't want one."
"We'll figure out another solution."
"You said it yourself. You're too used to having all the time in the world. But it's not something you can spend in limitless amounts anymore."
"Since it's mine to spend, I'll do with it what I want," Shane snapped.
"If you get your soul back, you can live forever. Why would you throw that way?"
"I can only live if I kill others. I won't. Not anymore."
"What does an immortal grim reaper care about us mere mortals," Jihoon muttered. "We die, it's what we do."
Shane winced as Jihoon threw his own words in his face. "I don't care about immortality. I care about you."
A month ago, even a week ago, he would have held onto these words like precious sunlight. But he didn't deserve it, not after he'd failed his grandmother so completely.
"I shouldn't be the reason for anyone's happiness."
"That's not true."
"My grandma died before I could prove to her I was worth it. All the things she sacrificed for me, and she died thinking I was a failure. A last-place nobody."
"Jihoon-ah, your grandma never believed that."
Jihoon let go of Shane's hand and rolled away from him. "Just leave me alone. It's what you're best at."
He shut his eyes until he heard the door close as Shaneleft.
***
Jihoon didn't know when he fell asleep. But in sleep he dreamed, a fitful toss of images.
"Jihoon-ah." She was just as he remembered, fair skin, dark eyes, hair as white as the moon.
"grandma. Are you real?"
Grandma smiled, the kind that creased the skin at her eyes and made them sparkle. "Whether I'm a spirit come to visit or a figment of your dreams, say what you need to say to me, Grandson."
"I'm sorry." Tears ran hot and thick down his cheeks. "In my next life, I hope I'm reborn as your grandson. Then I can treasure you, and honor you the way you deserve."
"Oh, Jihoon-ah, you can still do that in this life. I hope you can live this life filled with joy. I think that will be a great way to honor me."
"How can I, after what I've done to you?"
"I made my own choices. You don't want to die, Grandson. There's still so much I hope for you to have in this life."
He squeezed his eyes shut, the last of his tears streaming down his cheeks.
When he opened them again, she was gone and he was outside. He blinked up at the sky. He lay in the forest under so many stars that they outnumbered the dark.
"It seems you didn't need me to get into trouble."
Jihoon glanced at Loralie beside him, sitting cross-legged in the tall grass. She watched the heavens instead of him. Why would his mind do this to him? Take his grandmother away and replace her with this woman? "You might love your brother, but I can never forgive you for what you've done."
"I never asked for your forgiveness. But if you love my brother, then let him live." There was a pleading on Loralie's face, lending a softness to her angles he'd never noticed before.
"I don't want him to die."
"But you want to live, too." Loralie's voice became hard.
As she said it, he knew it was true. New tears sprung to his eyes. It swirled the light of the stars until they mixed into a potion of stardust that blinded him. He couldn't look his impending death in the eye and accept it. He wanted to live so desperately it hurt.
"At least when humans die there is an afterlife," Loralie said. "Grim Reapers cannot be promised such things."
Jihoon was silent, unable to answer.
"Shane tethers me to my humanity," Loralie said softly, her eyes shining. Jihoon blinked. Sitting like this, Loralie almost seemed human.
"I am a hybrid child, and whatever. I belong in neither heaven or hell. I thought that I didn't deserve a family until Shane was born."
"Is that why you're fighting so hard for him?" Jihoon asked. "Because you're afraid of becoming a monster?"
"I don't fear my own fate. I was betrayed because I thought with my heart instead of my instincts. I won't let the same thing happen to my brother."
Loralie stood, her green eyes looking like dark forest pools.
"That's why you must die."
And Jihoon realized this wasn't a dream.