The Grim Lover

Pretending that nothing happened was the smartest solution. I think Fourteen probably thought the same, because after acting like a ghost possessed by a grim reaper, he quickly regained his composure and abruptly changed the subject. I was still a little confused by his reaction, but I chose to let it go because there were so many other things bothering me right now.

 

The biggest issue I can't shake is about Chieng. To be honest, I don't know how much of what my older brother told me I can believe. As someone who's been close to both of them for a long time, I didn't even suspect they had any relationship beyond just friends. It's true that Chieng and Gloy are very close, but could they really be dating without me knowing? If that's true, then what Ten said about my name being Pue wasn't just a joke anymore.

 

Chieng and Gloy...are they dating? This is hard to believe, but from another perspective, did the eldest brother have no reason to fabricate something like this? He's not connected to anyone. At most, he only worked for Gloy's father, which doesn't seem to give him any vested interest. Even if this did benefit him, I still can't think of a reasonable motive. And if Chieng and Gloy were really dating, why would they keep it a secret? Just not going public isn't a big deal, but...

 

They didn't even tell me! To say they weren't hiding anything, just didn't tell me, isn't true. Because if I didn't notice any signs at all over the years, it means they intentionally kept this a secret. It just doesn't make sense, no matter how you look at it. The only thing supporting this information is that both Gloy and Chieng have always claimed to be single. Chieng always says he doesn't want commitment, preferring casual relationships, while Gloy acts like she's constantly waiting for her Prince Charming. Seriously, are they actually dating? I don't understand.

 

No, am I being too self-centred? If I want to see more, I should look broader, look inward. From another person's perspective, anything is possible. If the story about Chieng and Gloy dating is true, it could suggest that Chieng might not be the culprit, because, judging from his demeanour, he seemed deeply saddened by Gloy's death. 

 

At first, he seemed a little suspicious because he was the first to discover the body. However, considering that the two were lovers, it wasn't surprising that Chieng could come and go from Gloy's house as usual. And it wasn't surprising either that he was the first to know about it. 

 

But if we set aside friendship and analyse the statistics, women remain the number one victim of violence in relationships. Many women are killed by the men they love, whether through rage, punishment, revenge, or even from hatred lurking silently in their subconscious. Hatred towards women can be directed at anyone. Even men who like women, have dated or been in relationships with women their whole lives, don't necessarily lack feelings of misogyny. 

 

This type of hatred is more complex; it's not just about feeling disgust and avoiding them, but about viewing women as superior, trampling on their womanhood, or even their protection and adoration. Misogyny has been a dark villain for a very long time. Even in this more aware decade, this hatred hasn't disappeared; it has simply adapted to survive more effectively, lurking in the guise of chivalry, in the image of a "green flag" man, in the image of a man obsessively infatuated—many women, even those unbeknownst to them, are fantasising about this monster every night.

 

On the days he was jealous of her like a hot romance novel hero, the days he yelled because she wore her favorite short dress, the days he said, "You're mine," the days he told her she shouldn't do anything at all, just stay still and let him protect her, the days he forbade her from doing "men's work," the days he said, "Cancel your girlfriends' dates and be with me" after she hadn't seen them for months, or even the days he said she couldn't live without him—on those ordinary, sugary days, how many women realize that they have become "a possession" of those men?

 

The word "treasure" might make her feel as valuable as gold, causing her to forget that gold is something whose value is assigned to someone to possess. Gold is an ornament of prestige, a commodity to be traded. Everyone wants to own it. But gold has no soul, no free will. Gold never decides what it wants to be transformed into in the future.

 

She is gold.

And it was just gold.

His gold

 

To be honest, I don't know what kind of lover Chieng is. He's a good friend of mine, but that doesn't guarantee he'll be a good lover. As for Gloy, and as a friend, I guess I'm a bad friend for analysing and judging her rather than trusting our friendship. But as for this matter, I think friendship can't solve anything.

 

I hate how I feel right now. I hate having to suspect my own friend. I judged Chieng for not asking Gloy for the truth. I think it's so unfair. He acted like there was a possibility I could be the murderer. Even though he said, "I know you didn't do it," some of his actions made me feel like he didn't really believe that. Chieng never asked me for the truth, and it made me angry. But now I'm doing the same thing as him. What should I do?

 

While my thoughts were racing in my head, Fourteen opened the bedroom door. I, sitting on the bed, looked up at him. In his hand, the Grim Reaper held a glass of water and a white paper bag, which I recognised as my medicine bag.

 

"You haven't taken your medicine yet." 

 

Fourteen said calmly, walking towards me. He handed me a glass of water before taking out the packets of medicine one by one and pouring them out. He placed the pills in my other hand, which was still free, according to the size indicated on the package. He arranged them correctly, every single one, without a single mistake. "Would you have taken them if I hadn't forced them into your hand?"

 

"I was going to eat anyway," I replied, drawn out, as if I had planned to eat all along, when in reality I had completely forgotten. I wasn't against eating. It's just medicine; I'm not used to it yet, so I'm a bit forgetful.

 

"Just say you forgot," Fourteen grumbled playfully. I pouted at him because I didn't know what to argue back with, and I took my medicine as an escape route. A subtle humiliation.

 

After swallowing the medicine with water, I turned to place the empty glass on the table beside the bed. Fourteen watched the glass, frowning slightly as if not understanding why I didn't hand it back to him to put away. When he reached out to pick it up, I quickly grabbed his arm.

 

"What?" Fourteen turned and spoke to me in a stern voice.

 

"Shall we sleep together?"

 

"No."

 

Wow, I answered without thinking!

 

"Why?" I frowned, clearly displeased. Even though I knew Grim Reapers didn't have hearts, I thought he would start to soften towards me.

 

Especially after we've had such a passionate night together. "I won't bother you, just stay here to keep me company."

 

"No," Fourteen insisted firmly. "You said the same thing last time." What? Is he still upset about what happened last night?

 

"But this time I'm serious."

 

"You're untrustworthy."

 

"Oh dear..." I groaned. This was the first time in my life anyone had spoken to me like that. Normally, I'm a trustworthy and reliable person.

 

It's always been from the people around me... but it seems like things have started to get worse since the news broke that I'm a murderer. "Fourteen, I'm really stressed today."

 

"Mm-hmm," he replied, as if he hadn't paid attention to what I said. "I heard everything."

 

"If you heard this, shouldn't you be a little worried about me?"

 

"You are stressed, but you don't have suicidal thoughts."

 

“'I might be thinking that.'"

 

"I hear your voice all the time," the Grim Reaper replied in a monotone, robotic voice. 

 

"You're not thinking."

 

"I'll start thinking about it soon."

 

"You shouldn't threaten me with suicide."

 

"Then come lie on the bed," I said seriously. 

 

Maybe I was being childish earlier, making him think I was just begging because I wanted to be spoiled. While there was part of that, it wasn't the whole reason. 

 

"Can't you just be my friend?"

I began to plead for mercy, gently swinging my hand that was gripping his wrist back and forth, hoping the heartless Grim Reaper would finally let go.

.

"You're the only one I have, Fourteen. Please don't be so cruel to me."

 

It seemed my efforts were paying off. Fourteen didn't refuse as vehemently as Won had initially. He looked at my face, then at the glass of water on the table. After a few sighs, he let out a resigned sigh, "If you're going to indulge me, then please behave yourself. I beg you."

 

I nodded rapidly instead of promising to be a good boy all night, as long as he agreed to sleep in the bed with me.

 

It's been almost an hour, and I still can't sleep. I try to close my eyes, but I always end up opening them and staring at the ceiling. I glance over...

 

The person beside him was being cautious. Today, Fourteen wasn't sleeping while sitting. He was lying down with a pillow like a normal person, even though there was still a body pillow between them. At least it was better than sleeping while sitting like he was on guard duty.

 

Thinking about it, Fourteen has been with me for quite a while now. He's starting to learn how to do many human activities, such as bathing. Drinking water, eating food, resting, and even his facial expressions have improved a lot. Now I can't help but wonder if he's actually sleeping yet, because every night he closes his eyes like me, but I don't know if he's really asleep or just mimicking my sleeping habits.

 

"So you're determined to find something to talk about, aren't you?" Fourteen broke the silence, his eyes still closed as usual.

 

"I wasn't the one who started the conversation," I replied, admitting I was a little pleased that Fourteen had initiated it, even if it was out of annoyance. Let's go

 

"But you have so many questions."

 

"Because people are naturally curious."

 

"I wasn't asleep, I was just pretending," 

 

Fourteen replied, as if just trying to get it over with. He probably thought this would make me give up and leave.So I can go to sleep now.

"So you heard my voice all night then?"

 

You underestimated me.

 

"Yes," he replied, "It's very annoying."

 

"And if I dream, will you know about it too?"

 

"Most people know."

 

"Wow...there's really no privacy at all."

 

"Believe me, if I had a choice, I wouldn't want to know."

 

I frowned in annoyance. Go ahead and talk big, you Grim Reaper. Do you think you're the only one who's annoyed? I'm annoyed with you just as much! What kind of Grim Reaper complains like an old man? Or maybe his long life as a harvester has given him that personality? We're like old people.

 

"If being young means being a brat like you, I'd rather be old like this." (You can't even secretly insult him.)

 

You're boring.

 

But since I can't secretly insult him anyway, I might as well start a conversation. Maybe talking to him will make me sleepy.

 

"Mm..." Fourteen responded with a drawn-out, irritated grunt, but I chose to ignore it, as he was usually annoyed with me anyway. Then, there's nothing to worry about.

 

"How did Grim Reapers come into existence?" I don't know why this question suddenly popped into my head. Actually, it's something I've wondered about from the start, but I never got a chance to ask, because every time I tried to ask, I'd get scolded. "Were you born a Grim Reaper, or was there something that made you one?" Fourteen was silent. I wasn't sure if he was thinking of an answer or just deliberately ignoring my question.

 

"Every Grim Reaper was once a human."

 

Oh, he replied too!

"Oh, so we're the same species then?"

 

"That used to be true, but not anymore," 

 

Fourteen explained slowly. He sounded like an old uncle telling stories from the past to his grandson.

 

"I don't even have a permanent body. You can't really call us one of them."

 

"So how do you become a Grim Reaper?"

 

"dead"

 

"dead?"

 

"Mm-hmm," Fourteen's answer made me feel a little strange. I thought I was used to the fact that Fourteen didn't have a life like mine, but I never considered the perspective of his dying. It feels... strange. 

 

"First, you have to die. Whether you're chosen after that is another matter."

 

"So how do I get selected?"

 

"You have to choose correctly first."

 

"Why make the answer so difficult to understand?"

 

I heard a low chuckle from him. Does that mean he's enjoying lying here and talking to me, or is he just plotting something? They're definitely just pretending. I really wish I could read their minds.

 

"Do you remember that bridge?"

 

"A bridge?" I tried to keep up with his seemingly unrelated question. At first, I didn't understand which bridge he was referring to, but then It suddenly occurred to him that there was only one bridge that mattered to him. "The bridge in the desert, huh?"

 

That bridge...the one I tried to run towards when I was dying. The image is still etched in my mind.

 

"Yes," Fourteen replied, before continuing,  "As they approach death, every soul must go to that bridge. It's the empty space between..."

 

"Life and death"

 

"We have to cross over, right, to find what it's called? The afterlife?"

 

"You can call it that."

 

"Is it heaven or hell?"

 

"I can't say. It depends on the person."

 

"So that means heaven and hell really exist, right?"

 

"I can't say for sure about that."

 

"What the heck?" I grumbled softly. It was really frustrating that he acted like he wanted to tell me everything, but wouldn't. Why was he holding back? Even if I told someone else, nobody would believe me.

 

"If you reach that bridge, the soul-hunting monk will give you a choice," Fourteen continued. That sentence made the story start to sound more interesting. I had to turn my head towards him because I wanted to see his expression when he was fourteen telling the story, even though he was just lying there with his eyes closed.

 

"What are the options?"

 

"Choose whether you are ready to die."

 

Is that your choice? I never knew before that humans could choose their own death. We've always been taught that death is inevitable. Yes, but according to the Reapers, humanity has misunderstood a great deal.

 

"If you think you're ready to die, walk across to the other side of the bridge."

 

"What if I'm not ready yet?"

 

"So, you're supposed to go back the way you came and bring someone you think deserves to die more than yourself." 

 

Is that what happens before true human death? Every soul is sent to the border between the living and the dead to choose whether or not they deserve to die. Some choose to move forward on their own, while others retreat to find a replacement.

 

Do people really do things like that?

 

"What are the criteria?" I continued. "What determines who deserves to die?"

 

"feeling"'

 

"Is that all?"

 

"Then why would it be complicated?"

 

"If that's the case, then everyone could just drag the people they hate to their deaths instead."

 

"Things like that happen all the time," 

 

Fourteen said casually, as if the whole thing made perfect sense and was nothing out of the ordinary. "The person who's dragged in as a replacement isn't guaranteed to die. They have a choice too."

 

"If everyone refuses to die, it will never end, will it? It will just keep dragging on indefinitely."

 

"Things like that do exist," the Grim Reaper replied. "But you see people die every day, don't you?" That's true.

 

I momentarily forgot that death is almost inextricably linked to breathing.

 

"There are more people ready to die than you think."

 

Science has always taught me that all humans have an instinct for survival. We are built to fear death; that's why we do everything to keep ourselves as far away from it as possible. We choose healthy foods after days of junk food out of guilt. We exercise when we feel we're living too carelessly. We're wary of strangers. We're alert to new diseases that can be transmitted through food, air, or our beloved pets. We wear seatbelts in cars, and even the fear of death for loved ones is an instinct for the survival of our species. The fear of loss makes us not only take care of ourselves but also our loved ones. All of this is to prevent death from approaching us.

 

But humans are unpredictable beings. If they were commodities, they would be the most unpredictable. If you sold them, you'd likely face countless returns. Because of this, humans naturally go against instinct. Fear, ingrained in our genetics, cannot overcome the harsh environment. For many, death seems insignificant compared to breathing in this decaying world.

 

I think even I wouldn't have understood this well last year. Won back then would have to learn a lot from Won now. It takes time to understand that sometimes it's easy to go against your instincts. Death...it's so easy.

 

"So you chose to cross the bridge, huh?" I asked Fourteen, my mind racing to figure out why someone like Fourteen would choose death. At that time, instead of negotiating while I still had the chance, which was a very difficult test, I couldn't think of anything else.

 

"nothing"

 

"Huh?" His answer started to confuse me. "Didn't you say you had to die to become a Grim Reaper?"

 

"My situation is like that of a dead person, but I didn't choose to die."

 

"What does that mean? I don't understand." I always thought I was someone who understood things easily, until I had a serious conversation with him. Fourteen.

He's really good at making everything sound complicated. "If you didn't cross the bridge, it means you have to go back."

 

"no"

 

"Okay."

 

"I jumped."

 

I paused. That wasn't even an option I'd considered. But after hearing the explanation, it started to make sense, because he would never become...

He became a reaper of death if his final choice had been the same as everyone else's. "I thought it was incredibly ridiculous to drag others to their deaths in my place, but I couldn't die right then and there. It wasn't my time to die yet," Fourteen recounted as if it were just another ordinary occurrence. I think he's come a long way from that point, so far that it no longer affects his psyche. Or perhaps being a grim reaper cleansed him of his human sensitivity the day he decided to jump off the bridge. "So I jumped. I didn't know what was below, but there was a way to jump. Maybe jumping would mean death anyway, but at least I chose the path I thought I could handle at that time. I tried my best."

 

"So...what's under the bridge?"

 

Fourteen fell silent again. I think he must be carefully considering how much he can reveal. Perhaps it's a secret shared by the Grim Reapers. Maybe he was forced to sign a confidentiality agreement, who knows?

 

"I do not know"

 

"Oh," he said, once again creating an unforgivable plot twist. "How could you not know?"

 

"I don't remember," Fourteen replied. Judging from his voice, I thought he was telling the truth, not just making it up as an excuse to avoid continuing the story. 

 

"I know myself."

 

"It was like this again. I don't remember what I did when I went down there."

 

"I kind of understand why they erased his memories," I chuckled softly, wondering if the elders in the world before death knew. No, their Grim Reapers didn't tell me these stories. I'm still breathing, not a ghost.

 

"I've never told anyone about this."

 

But his answer left me feeling strange. It was a feeling that seemed good, but also... odd.

 

"Then why did you tell me?"

 

I didn't expect anything from his answer.

 

"Because if I don't tell you, you'll keep asking."

 

And that's right. I shouldn't expect anything from this Grim Reaper. Of course, he probably doesn't have any deep thoughts about us being friends. Either I trust you, or I wouldn't have told you these personal things. He, on the other hand, only tells them to get rid of the annoyance.

 

"Well, thanks then, for taking the time to tell me," I said calmly, but with utter sarcasm, even though I knew he probably wasn't interested. Whatever it is.

 

"Just don't tell anyone."

 

"Who am I supposed to tell? These days, you're all I have."

 

Hearing my own voice, I felt the sentence structure was a little strange, but judging from Fourteen's calm demeanour, he probably didn't think anything of it.

(Again!) So it's convenient for me to subtly let this go.

 

"Already..."

 

My voice trailed off when the Grim Reaper's soft laughter suddenly interrupted. 

 

"What's so funny?"

 

"If you're going to keep asking questions like this, then why were you annoyed when I asked why?"

 

I wanted to curse him so badly, but I couldn't think of any insults. I was afraid that if I said anything, it would eventually come back to haunt me. He's fourteen.

They're so good at twisting the truth that others are left speechless.

 

"I'm not annoyed at all," I retorted shamelessly. "It's perfectly normal."

 

"If thinking that makes you feel better, then suit yourself."

 

Look at the way they talk. What kind of Grim Reaper has such a sharp tongue?

 

"Why are you silent? Aren't you going to ask anymore?"

 

"If I ask, you'll just complain again."

 

"I wasn't saying anything bad, just that you like to ask questions," Fourteen said in a normal tone, but I knew he was 100% mocking me.

"Ask away. I'll let you ask."

 

But regarding the latter part of the sentence... I'm not so sure. Perhaps it's a new form of parody, using a softer tone: Who can you trust in this Grim Reaper anyway?

 

"Do you remember anything about yourself when you were still human?" I chose to let my curiosity guide me once again, since he himself had asked me to. Since I couldn't sleep anyway, I didn't see the point in refusing.

 

"No," Fourteen replied, "He deleted them all. There's nothing left of them."

 

"That means you don't know how you died, does it?"

 

"Hmm, I don't know."

 

The fact that Fourteen can't remember anything before he died makes me incredibly sad. It's heartbreaking to know that a part of myself is missing, but I can't say what it is. Does Fourteen feel like something's missing, too, or am I the only one who feels that way? Maybe he's glad he can't remember.

 

"So, do you know when you died?" I continued, my curiosity seemingly endless, as they said. "Like..."

 

"How long have you been here?"

 

"Hmm...time?" Fourteen repeated the question in a languid voice. He seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before his eyelids, which had been tightly closed, slowly opened, after letting me lie there watching him for so long. 

 

"I stopped counting a long time ago. I can't give you an exact number."

 

"Does that mean you've been dead for a very long time?"

 

"Well, it's hundreds of years old."

 

"Huh?" This time, I was so startled I sat up. I don't know why, but I expected him to be about ten years older than me, or at most twenty. That's all. I never thought it would be a hundred years, not even a little bit. "A hundred years?"

"Hmm," Fourteen looked at me with a neutral expression, slightly furrowing her brows as if she didn't understand why I was so surprised. "Probably around one hundred and twenty...or...One hundred and thirty, I'm not sure."

 

"Oh..." I was speechless. One hundred and twenty to one hundred and thirty years is so long that I can't even remember what the country was like back then. What era was that? The reign of King Rama V? Just the thought that I, at fourteen, once lived during a time I only learned about in history class makes me shudder. 

 

"...You... actually older than me."

 

"It took me a while to believe it."

 

"But you don't look like someone from that era."

 

"Well, I didn't travel through dimensions," Fourteen said with a chuckle. "I've seen everything around me, I know how humans live, but I didn't come here to do this."

 

"Ah..." So that's it. Thinking about it, I can understand. Grim Reapers don't experience birth, ageing, sickness, and death like humans. They probably just exist indefinitely, observing, reaping the rewards of death, and gradually understanding humans over time. They must have seen everything, encountered every type of human being. And that might be why they seem bored or annoyed all the time. If I had lived as long as they, I'd probably be annoyed with my own kind, too. "That sounds..."

 

"I'm so tired, aren't I?"

 

"We're all tired," he replied. "Aren't you tired too?"

 

"Yes, but my fatigue has an expiration date," I replied, imagining myself living to be a hundred years old, just for the sake of it. Thirty years or so is already exhausting. Please, I beg you, don't let me live to see that. "Just dying would relieve the weariness. I'll die soon anyway."

 

"Who gave you permission to die?" Fourteen's voice immediately became stern the moment I mentioned my own death. What kind of Grim Reaper is he that I'm so afraid of? So many people are going to die.

 

"It doesn't mean anytime soon," I defended myself, though secretly I hoped it would be soon.

"Don't even think about dying anytime soon."

 

"I know, I know!"

 

I made a face at him before lying back down, frustrated by my never-ending impatience. No matter what, Fourteen would never really let me die. Now I'm starting to think that living to a hundred years old might not just be a fantasy. If Fourteen continues acting like this, I'll probably end up being the longest-lived grandfather in the world.

 

"If you know that, then prepare yourself," Fourteen said, turning to face me. I thought it would be awkward if I lay there with my face turned towards him.

Some of it now, but even thinking that, I still do it. "There's still a lot of headaches for you tomorrow."

 

The Grim Reaper didn't turn away from me. He let us lie there, staring at each other with a pillow between us. I thought that position was quite risky. From Fourteen’s perspective, it might be nothing, but from my perspective, I felt drawn to his face and features. One hundred per cent...that's extremely dangerous. That size no longer.

 

"Then will you help me?" My voice suddenly trailed off, perhaps because the communication via the telepathic line had become so intense that words were no longer important.

 

"I have to do everything to keep you alive."

 

He always said that. Everything was to keep me going—the help, the care—that I wouldn't have known better. I wonder what his motive was. By now, I've probably already jumped to conclusions. Fourteen is here for himself. I know that, but maybe... just maybe. I wish he actually cared about me.

 

"Can I have the bolster pillow removed?"

 

I wish there was some genuine feeling of his mixed in with this attention, even just a little. Because if I don't expect that, then...I don't know where else to find compassion. I'm all alone. And the person standing beside me wasn't even human. 

 

"You never keep your promises," Fourteen said calmly. He reprimanded me as he moved the pillow between us to the back.

 

"I'm sorry..." I whispered, feeling embarrassed.

 

"You're too obsessed with my appearance."

 

I know.

 

"You know who I am, but you still won't stop."

 

"I know that," Fourteen said. The more he spoke, the more guilty I felt, and at the same time, I felt like we were growing closer. "I tried..."

 

"You haven't tried hard enough."

 

He came closer and closer until I could feel his breath.

 

"Give me a chance. Do you think it's that easy?"

 

"If you keep acting like this, you'll really go crazy."

 

"I'm already going crazy—"

 

I dare not say that this happened unexpectedly. My breath hitched, my heart skipped a beat. I was completely startled, but within the split second that Fourteen rushed towards me, I raised my hands to cup his face and tilted my head to receive the kiss without hesitation.

 

His kiss was more intense than ever. It wasn't a gentle caress, but a crushing grind against my lips, as if he weren't afraid I might easily bleed from the intensity of his passion. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly against his body. His large hands roamed across my back, down to my hips, squeezing and caressing without hesitation.

 

He unleashed his desires upon me like a storm, as if he said I would truly go insane—but he wasn't referring to me, only him. If Fourteen seems like he's on the verge of going completely insane...

 

"I don't like your sleepy face," Fourteen whispered close to my cheek. "I don't like it when you look at me like that."

 

"...What kind?"

He didn't answer, but instead lowered his face to my neck. He traced his lips slowly, his breathing irregular, sometimes heavy, like he'd just finished exercising. It was scorching hot, like steam from a boiling kettle hitting my skin. And if he kept using this until I was fourteen, soon my skin would be scalded and burning from his madness.

 

"You..." I called out, my voice trembling, as Fourteen moved back up to meet my gaze. Our foreheads touched, the tips of our noses brushing against each other with each ragged breath. I gasped, my body went limp, while Fourteen trembled, seemingly battling his own inner demons. "Please... I beg you." Even though it wasn't necessary at all.

 

"...Fourteen," I pleaded, taking his hand and placing it on my body—my face, neck, chest, stomach, even my lower back. Below, I'm saying he doesn't need to tolerate anything, because I don't want to tolerate it anymore either. "I know what you want to do."

 

"Please...be quiet," Fourteen took another deep breath, but he wouldn't take his hand off my waist.

 

"You can do it."

 

"I told you to be quiet."

 

"I know you don't like something about me," I said, reaching out to caress his groin through the fabric. It was so hard and taut it almost filled my hand.

 

"Of course," but...you might like this one.

 

This is incredibly arousing. His patience and my efforts... The current situation makes me think of my first time having sex with P'Fah. That idiot wanted to have our first time together on our wedding night. When I found out, I was shocked. I couldn't believe he planned not to have sex with me at all during our relationship. But I'm not so bad as to force him to only satisfy my desires. I accepted his idea and let him continue with his life. A normal life, but... a little more frightening.

I swear I didn't force or pressure P'Fah at all. He changed his mind and lost his temper on his own. I was just minding my own business.

 

"Won..."

 

At least I was more indifferent than I am now.

"Please...and I won't be disobedient to you again."

 

The new day was brighter than ever. My feelings were almost identical to my first day at university. I was excited about the material I would be studying in medical school, and nervous about this new social environment, and I'm sure it will take a tremendous amount of energy to adjust, even though I may look like I don't care at all.

 

Fourteen woke me up early, pushed me into the bathroom, and in the meantime prepared a simple breakfast: toast with jam and butter, and smoked sausage.

The smoke and the soft, creamy scrambled eggs... I finished it all in less than ten minutes (and got scolded as expected). Fourteen also ate with me, even though his expression didn't reflect how delicious it was at all.

 

It's been a long time since I've worn a suit. This clean white shirt versus a simple black suit... the last time I wore one was probably at a wedding. I'm a doctor at the hospital, and other than that, I wear the same old things, prioritising comfort. Workdays are even worse; a simple t-shirt is enough. I'll change clothes when I get to the hospital anyway. So, wearing a suit for the first time in months felt like putting on someone else's skin, completely different from when I was fourteen. 

 

Today felt like I was the Grim Reaper again. The entire set—the inner shirt, pants, and outer suit—was black from head to toe. My hair was neatly styled, not messy like usual. It looks exactly like the first day we met. Fourteen volunteered to drive me. The only sound in the car was my playlist. My gaze drifted blankly out the window. I mostly looked out the window. Seeing the world outside my condo, which seemed so normal, filled me with an inexplicable fear. I was afraid that this peace was a result of my hiding. Everything was still, waiting to erupt, and the one who would ignite it this time would be me.

 

We arrived at our destination in about half an hour. Cars and vans were lined up, and a group of people were standing nearby. The sight made me breathless. I could feel myself trembling. The calmness I had tried so hard to maintain all this time shattered when I encountered the reality I had been trying to run away from all along.

 

"I'll be with you all the time," Fourteen said calmly after our car came to a stop. He took a black mask from the glove compartment between the seats and put it on. Today was probably the day we'd both been under the most scrutiny. For me, it wouldn't be a problem; at most, my face would just trigger people's hatred. But for Fourteen, his face could cause a stir. "So, say what needs to be said, don't think about anything else."

 

"I can't think about anything else right now," I tried to take a deep breath, repeatedly wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, but it seemed impossible.

 

"Giving up easily, 'Prepare to be abandoned. They won't keep me.'"

 

"They can't get close to you," Fourteen said confidently. He seemed very calm, while I was on the verge of losing my mind.

 

"Why not?" I chuckled. Even if Fourteen claimed to know everything about humans, I thought he probably only knew superficially.

 

"You're underestimating the reporters," he said, implying that the large swarm of journalists couldn't do anything to him.

 

"You underestimated me as well."

 

Fourteen opened the car door and got out, my heart pounding just at the sight of the group of reporters standing in front of the police station, turning to look at Fourteen, and when Fourteen came to open the car door for me, they swarmed in like vultures seeing a corpse. My legs were shaking so much I couldn't move, and my hands were the same. I made eye contact with Fourteen, signalling to him that I couldn't do it, that I wasn't ready to leave.

 

Meeting these people, the medication I'm taking isn't helping with my anxiety. I think I want to fight, but my body isn't cooperating. It's signalling me to run away.

I can't do it. Just as I was about to give up, my palms suddenly felt warm. I looked down, confused, only to realise it was the palm of Fourteen. His grip was tight. He didn't utter a word. Fourteen simply held my hand, meeting my gaze steadily, as if he were telling me, "You can do it."

 

The fear didn't disappear immediately, but what changed was that the body trembled less, the panic gradually subsided, and… Beliefs that I thought didn't exist suddenly intruded without warning. Maybe I can do it. Because he believed I could do it.

 

Flashes of light assaulted my eyes like hundreds of lightning strikes in a single minute. I quickened my pace, squinting against the blinding glare that relentlessly bombarded my vision. Their shouts overlapped, making it impossible for me to understand everything, but most of it was the same: it was a question everyone had longed to know.

 

Is it true? Where have you been? Why did you agree to meet with the police today? Are you still working at the hospital? What were you secretly doing there that day? Where was I on the night that Gloy rolled in? Who was the person with me? Was it my new boyfriend? Is it true that I inherited only Fah's fortune, without even a share going to his parents? I never knew my life would be this interesting.

 

All around me, sounds and lights were bombarding me, but luckily, my body was free. No one could get too close. Over an arm's length away, they looked like a horde of zombies ready to leap out and bite and tear off my limbs, but instead, they could only huddle together in a circle, keeping their distance.

 

"Keep walking."

 

Because Fourteen really wouldn't let them get close to me. His voice echoed in my head, cutting through the shouts of the zombie-like reporters like the voice of God. His hands clasped together with mine. His hair was firm, and Fourteen stared straight ahead fearlessly, as if he knew for sure that no one could harm them on the road ahead.

 

"Do your job well...and after that, I'll do as you please."