The Grim Lover

My name is Fourteen. I am Grim Reaper. I'm not sure how long it's been, but I think it's probably in the hundreds of years, because other Grim Reapers seem to have been around even longer, and I've harvested hundreds of thousands of souls. So, if I were to count my age according to the Grim Reaper age system, I'd probably be around 120 to 130 years old, which is still considered young, because I've met a Grim Reaper who was 300 years old before.

 

"A Grim Reaper's job never stops because more humans die every day." That's the answer I got from my seniors, which to me seemed a bit illogical. It's true that humans die in droves every day, but I'm not the only Grim Reaper working. On my days off, other Grim Reapers can take over. When I return, I can rest. It's a simple shift system. Why couldn't the initial Soul Reaper corps think of that?

 

But actually, I was just complaining. It might sound like I'm being exploited because I don't have days off, but if I do have a day off, I'll do What? Grim Reapers don't have leisure activities like humans. We don't need to eat or sleep, so forget about wandering around, eating, sleeping, and relaxing at home. Forcing ourselves to stay still like that would be more agonising than going out to harvest souls.

 

My daily routine is the same every day: I check the final message board at exactly midnight, a moment that marks the fleeting dividing line between life and death. Some people can sense death at that time, because the door to the afterlife opens only once a day. It's a moment when the living and the dead can connect. The souls that were harvested earlier must wait in the new field of souls (if they chose to cross the bridge), watching the scene unfold. A final memory of one's life before all memories are erased upon crossing over to the true realm of the dead.

 

After checking the list of the deceased on the board for the last day, I'll know who I need to collect and where to find them. Usually, I appear a few minutes before a person dies, because after death, most people are unaware that they're dead. They become confused and wander around the place where they died, seeking help (humans call this "ghost haunting"). As a grim reaper, my job is to let them know that death has arrived and guide them to the bridge to choose their next destiny.

My latest soul died a little after midnight, so I only had a quick moment to check the name on the board before I had to go meet him.

 

He is a 32-year-old man, an anesthesiologist at a renowned medical centre. He's exceptionally intelligent, having skipped grades to enter university at sixteen and becoming a medical professor at a young age. He has a male partner five years older than him. His partner had a rather wild childhood but grew up remarkably well. He's a photographer with a status comparable to that of a celebrity, working as much in front of the camera as behind it, thanks to his good looks that can't be hidden and his captivating personality that's hard to resist.

 

His life could be described as ideal, fitting the typical human definition. His quality of life was far above average. But now, at midnight, he stands on a rooftop with a fervent intention to end his life. The reason is not unusual: the love of his life had passed away just a few days prior.

 

I've encountered this type of spirit many times. Most of them already had above-average lives, but they were devastated when they lost a loved one. I'm not sure why, considering they had so many other excellent things in life, they chose to give them up simply because they lacked a partner. Their common phrase is, "I have nothing left," even though it's clear they have everything except that one person.

 

But maybe this person really isn't around. I don't know. I haven't had time to pull up all his records yet. I stood watching the brilliant doctor from the rooftop across the street, waiting and waiting, but he wouldn't jump. He just kept crying and muttering to himself. He's been like that for quite a while now. Basically, I don't know if he really wants to die or not. He probably didn't change his mind at the last minute before falling, did he? I hate that the most. People who change their minds but still die usually complain and beg endlessly. They're difficult to deal with and very annoying. If possible, I'd rather not encounter anyone like that.

 

Hmm...but this doctor really seems like he wants to die. He probably wouldn't change his mind. He might just need a signal to overcome his human instincts. Thinking that, I raised my fist, turned my palm up, and opened it. The tiny beetle flew out of my palm, through the wind from the top of one building to the building across the street.

 

"Jump!" I told him.

 

His face showed confusion and shock as I revealed my face to him. Humans are like that; they entrust their hearts to other humans instead of keeping them within themselves. That's why they're so easily manipulated. And that's why, as Grim Reapers, my face changes every time I go out to harvest souls. We become the people those people love most, the ones they trust enough to stop being afraid and follow without question. This time is no different. I am his deceased lover, someone who shouldn't be standing here, yet is. 

 

I smile at him and tell him to jump from the rooftop. That would put an end to it. The dragonfly landed on his left ring finger before I instructed it to fly downwards, showing the doctor how easy it was. There's nothing to be afraid of. He can do it too. He can fly like that dragonfly.

 

"Please wait to receive Won."

 

It worked! He finally jumped. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, knowing another job was done. But only a fraction of a second passed. Within seconds, some kind of turmoil occurred. A strange, unbelievable feeling overwhelmed my body. Grim Reapers have no physical form; we are emotionless. But now, I felt it fully, in a way I've never experienced before. Looking down at my palms, I saw them slowly fading. I knew I was disappearing, vanishing forever, without knowing how it could happen, since all Grim Reapers are normally immortal. Is this not normal? And what is this feeling? Is this... fear?

 

"woeful..."

 

Before I knew it, I had jumped down after him. I plunged headfirst into the street below, struggling to keep up with the doctor's speed for a few seconds before my body hit the ground. I shifted my spiritual mass as quickly as I ever had to receive his body in my arms. Just in time.

 

The doctor was unconscious and unaware of what was happening, probably having passed out from fear while still in mid-air. Which was good, in a way, so he wouldn't have to wake up and see that I suddenly jumped to catch his body like that.

 

Once I was sure the doctor was safe, I brought him back to his condo using a Grim Reaper-like method (what do humans call it? Disappearing? Warpping?). Another advantage of his being asleep is that I could carry him anywhere like an object. If he were awake and conscious, I wouldn't be able to use the method of transferring spiritual matter because it would shatter his body into pieces.

 

I lay him on the bed, then sat idly on the sofa at the foot of his bed, using the time while waiting for him to wake up to find the answers. What just happened, I can't understand it, no matter how much I think about it. Just now, I was certain that if I let the doctor die, I would disappear too. It was terrifying. I've never felt such fear before until the doctor was about to die, and I don't know why. Why did it have to be like that? And why him? Is he playing some kind of joke?

 

It wasn't long before I realised he was awake. I greeted him, turned on the light, and of course, the doctor stared at me as if he'd seen a ghost. He was shocked for almost a minute, but finally, he rushed over and hugged me tightly, thinking I was his 'P'Fah'. It took quite a while to explain things to him. He's intelligent, but he found it difficult to understand what I was saying. Perhaps it was because he was in a state of mental instability at the time. I could understand, but it was a little annoying because I even had to take him to see a bridge before he would believe in the Grim Reaper.

 

After that, I tried to find answers to what had happened. I asked my seniors, but no one could give me an answer. All I got was them teasing me, saying I have finally found my soulmate, even though I know Grim Reapers don't possess those things. My last resort is therefore you, the one who entrusted me with the role of Grim Reaper.

 

"That's a question that's meaningless unless you find the answer yourself."

 

And that was the answer he gave me. Simply put, it meant "figure it out yourself." Deep down, I can't help but wonder if perhaps he himself might not know the answer, either, so he told me to handle it myself.

 

The bizarre situation that's been happening is already giving me a headache. Now I have to put up with the voices in my head, too. It's incredibly annoying because it wasn't my voice, as it should have been, but his. The doctor's voice intruded into my head almost constantly, filled with depressing thoughts. He lamented over that man named Fah, rambling and complaining, and constantly thinking about wanting to die. If his death weren't so intertwined with mine, I would have let him die already.

 

Time and time again, I had to prevent him from committing suicide. No matter how many times he promised, he always did it anyway. It seems keeping promises is one of the few things he's really bad at, as he keeps breaking them. At first, he seemed genuinely eager to die, but later, I started to feel like he was trying to kill himself for fun. It must have been enjoyable for him to watch me try everything to keep him alive. Honestly, I've never met anyone so insane before.

 

The doctor preferred that I call him Won. He tried to repeat his name to me, but in the end, I just called him Won. Won is someone who rarely shows emotion. He's not cold, not even close. He feels everything intensely and directly, but the emotion on his face was minimal, making his insults funny and, often, embarrassing, because he would say strange things with a completely straight face, as if he felt nothing about what he was saying.

 

Once, Won said to me, "Don't you want to try having sex with me?" His face was completely expressionless, like a robot. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel.

Before, I only knew that he was really strange. In my opinion, Won's life is becoming increasingly beyond repair. It's not just about losing a loved one; he's truly losing everything. Everything from his career and reputation to his privacy and friendships—every time I've watched him, I've only seen misfortune befall him relentlessly. He'd be sad, then recover, then fall into sadness again, in an endless cycle. Many times I've started to wonder if maybe it would be better to just let him die.

 

But every time I had the chance to do that, I couldn't let him go, because the fear that he would die haunted me every time. He kept trying, and it started to hurt to know he was still trying. Fear, restlessness, frustration, annoyance, shame, pain, these weren't born with the Grim Reaper, but they gradually grew within me, subtly infiltrating my fake breath. Besides that, there's joy, anticipation, delight, resentment, and many more that I'm not yet sure what they are, but they happen every day and become clearer and clearer. Even Won has commented on it. You're just like a human. He once said that to me.

 

I started doing things that weren't necessary, like eating. I started eating because I realised Won didn't like eating alone. Even if I sat with him, he still acted like he was being forced to eat. But ever since I started eating with him, he's improved dramatically. I don't need to coax him anymore. Besides that, I also learned to cook because Won likes his boyfriend's recipes more than anything else. I started learning to sleep. I couldn't really fall asleep, but I knew how to make it look like I was, because Won didn't like it when he woke up and saw that I hadn’t been to sleep.

 

I took turns doing laundry with him, learning to wash clothes the human way, even just a light flick of the hand could clean them. In fact, sometimes they're perfectly clean. It was even more of a hassle than Won's usual laundry routine, but I did as he asked because Won said he's always washed his boyfriend's clothes this way.

 

I drove him around every time, watched cartoons with him, tried reading the cartoons he recommended, wore clothes he liked, said things I'd never said before, and listened. He kept saying the same things he'd said countless times before. I stroked his head when he behaved, hugged him when he cried, kissed him when unnecessary, and had sex, claiming it was to please him, when in reality it was to please myself. None of it was necessary, but I still do these things, going beyond my duties and still putting on a good character for them.

 

Won probably doesn't realise it, but every single second of the time we were together, Won thought of Fah. Won lived for Fah, which is why I took advantage of him many times. I used my resemblance to Fah to make Won look at me that way, leading him to think he wanted me, when in reality, the one he wanted was Fah, not me.

 

Seeing Won disappointed and hurt made me anxious, and that anxiety pushed me to do something I shouldn't have. After making sure Won was asleep, I sneaked out of the condo and went to Gloy's house. She had arrived home but still hadn't turned on the main lights; only the soft yellow light in the kitchen provided enough dim illumination. She was pouring wine, taking a sip, then pouring more even though it wasn't finished. It was as if she were extremely stressed.

 

"Stop lying," I told her, and Gloy's eyes widened. She trembled like someone with a fever the moment she saw my face. She probably thought I was a ghost, so I didn't intend to correct her. It's better to let her continue being afraid like this, in case it makes her stop acting like a victim and accept the truth.

 

"Tell everyone that person died because you made a mistake, not because of Won. Won didn't intend to kill him and didn't make any mistake at all. But you are the one who cannot accept the truth."

 

"How would you understand!" Gloy yelled at me. She called me "brother", probably because she thought I was Fah. "You're a man, you'll never understand!" Her eyes widened. Gloy was letting herself explode after trying to keep a little bit of control in her mind. I've held onto it with all my might for so long.

 

"For you, it might just be one mistake, but for Gloy, it's not. You don't know how hard it's been for Gloy to get to this point. You have choices, so you can say that, right? Why don't you try being Gloy? Try being someone who, if she's not a wife or a mother, has to succeed. Only after failure does she have value. Someone who makes one mistake and loses their freedom. Someone who does everything according to their own desires, as you will never understand someone who has no choices like me."

 

"It's taro!"

 

"You have no choice. And does Won have one?" I asked back. "You can't miss out. And does Won even have a choice?"

 

"That Won will survive!" she shrieked, her hands trembling so much that the wine in her glass started to spill. "Someone'll come and help him. That's always how it’s been."

 

“Life never makes mistakes, or even if it does, there are always people ready to help. But I have no one, P'Fah. I only have myself. If I don't fight for myself, I have to do what they tell me to do! Do you understand?!"

 

I do not understand

I don't understand at all.

 

She's so resentful of her own life that she's taking it out on an innocent person like Won.

 

"Everyone likes Won. Everyone is ready to protect him and trust him. What would he be afraid of?"

 

"Believe?" I raised an eyebrow, unsure if she realised what she had just said. "Who believes Won? Who defends Won? Seriously, right now...Who's still around? From what I see, everyone believes you. And Won is the murderer."

 

"Do you believe that?" Gloy scoffed, as if pitying herself. "It believes Gloy's money more."

 

"Do you mean the hush money?"

 

"Everyone has to do it to survive," she glared at me. "Go tell Won to learn how to do it too, so he doesn't have to be a victim."

 

"And so on."

Bang!

Hey!

 

I lunged at her and held the tip of my knife to her beautiful neck, vowing to shut her up with her nonsense. The only light above us flickered off at my command. I didn't have much time to lecture her. Soon, Won would be drinking; he usually drinks around three in the morning. If I kept playing with her, he'd know I was gone.

"In other stories, you might be the victim, but not this one," I whispered in her ear. Gloy trembled like a little bird. "It's all a lie. It's your fault, so take responsibility. Otherwise, don't say I didn't warn you."

 

I stared at her face for a moment to make sure she had heard what I said before releasing her. And then, at that moment...At the same time, I heard a car pull up in front of her house.

 

Whoosh!

Gloy pushed me in the chest just as I turned to look at the car in front of the house.

 

Thump!

Crash!

 

The wine glass in her hand flew through the air, hitting me in the chest before crashing to the floor and shattering. Red wine spilt over me and flowed down. Wine was pooling on the floor. She stared straight ahead, her eyes red and filled with a mixture of fear and rage.

 

"Why don't you just die?" She spoke through gritted teeth, but I didn't reply. 

 

I immediately moved back into Won's bedroom the moment I heard the gate open. Luckily, Won was still fast asleep when I arrived. I went straight to the bathroom, took off my clothes, and tried to scrub it the way Won used to. I was taught that the red colour of the wine fades, but it's still clearly visible. Therefore, I had no choice but to use my own cheat code, borrowing the power of a Grim Reaper for something that didn't seem like a Grim Reaper's mission at all.

 

At that same moment, I heard Won's voice in my head. It wasn't exactly a voice, as I couldn't quite understand it, but it might have been a sign that he was waking up. So I quickly cleaned my stained shirt and pants, grabbed my pyjama pants from the bathroom rack, put them on, and hurried back to the bedroom.

 

I grabbed my clothes and tried to find a new shirt, but Won's voice kept getting louder. It wasn't just in my head; I could hear faint sounds of his legs—he lifted them up, examined them, and twisted them. Seeing that, I understood immediately what the doctor meant.

 

What's wrong?

You're having another dirty dream, aren't you? I walked over and knelt beside the bed, gazing at Won's face as he lay there, flushed and turned towards me. His beautiful eyebrows were furrowed, so I gently stroked them with my fingers to ease the tension. His lips were slightly parted, as if he were waiting for something. I have many things I could do to satisfy that need, but of course, I wouldn't do that to him.

 

He's the one who did it. Won opened his eyes and looked me in the eye before making a move to pull me in for a kiss. For a moment, I thought about letting him have his way, but in the end, I chose to restrain myself. I should restrain myself sometimes.

 

His embarrassed reaction to my teasing about his moaning was hilarious. His face turned bright red, and he groaned helplessly, probably annoyed that I'd keep this a secret for a long time. And I was right; I would tease him about it many more times, at least until I could erase that sound and that expression from my mind. If I let Won interfere in my thoughts any more, I probably won't be able to look him in the face with a clear conscience anymore, but... I don't know. I may not have been sincere with him for a long time. I may have let human feelings overwhelm me, gradually losing my identity as a Grim Reaper. 

 

Sometimes I feel like I've known him for a very long time. I'm familiar with his little habits. I know what he likes and dislikes even without looking into Sky's memories.

 

That strange familiarity grew stronger and stronger until the day Big confessed everything. Tears and voices…Won's sobs, him kneeling on the floor, repeatedly calling out for "P' Fah," It pulled my soul back to that day. The day I died.

 

P’Fah’s part.

I followed a man in black who looked like Won, from the middle of the street to the bridge over the river. He stopped in the middle. He crossed the bridge, turned to look at me, and then spoke.

 

"Jump!"

 

"Huh?" I was taken aback, my voice trembling. "Why do I jump?"

 

"I'll take you to another bridge."

 

"Why are we going?" I asked, still confused. "Didn't you say you were going to take me to see the real Won?"

 

It would be better to keep a straight face and say, "Are you going or not? That would make it look much more like I’m begging." 

 

"I'll jump in first, then you follow."

 

"Are you serious?" I was still unsure.

 

"If you want to meet the real Won, then follow me."

 

After saying that, he climbed onto the bridge railing and jumped off. So you just jump like that whenever you feel like it? That's cool! I stood there, looking left and right for a moment, unsure what to do next. 

 

Part of me didn't understand why I had to jump off the bridge, but another part thought I probably wouldn't be able to find my way back. I'd driven all over Bangkok, and I was sure I'd crossed this bridge before, but I had no idea how to get out of here. My car was wrecked, and I was covered in dirt and reeked of blood. Or should we believe the man in the black dress who just said that?

 

I hesitated on the bridge railing for about ten seconds before finally jumping after the guy in the black suit, without knowing why. But instead of getting wet after jumping into the river, I ended up with sand. The sky was completely dark. Everywhere I looked, there was nothing. But the sand is fine and white, and I'm out of shoes because I took them off before jumping off the bridge. So now I can only walk barefoot behind Won, who's wearing black.

 

"Won, you're in black!" I shouted, calling out to Won, who was walking briskly without even glancing at me. That's when I realised he wasn't Won.

 

"That's true, because there's no way that kid would leave me to walk alone like this. 'Is it still far? I'm tired, 'Fah!'

 

He didn't answer, just kept walking. I just kept walking, feeling helpless, not knowing what to do. I didn't know how to go back, and it was cold. It's cold, windy, and sand has gotten in my eyes.

 

Sigh... I miss Won so much.

Fah is going to cry.

"We're here," he grumbled, but before I could finish, the man in black turned to speak to me, nodding towards the bridge. Behind him, it didn't look like the bridge I had just jumped from; it was a swaying suspension bridge that looked very unstable. "Walk. Go ahead."

 

"So, Won, the one in black, isn't going with P'Fah?"

 

"No," he replied firmly, utterly cold. "You have to go alone."

 

"Where are you going?"

 

"Cross the bridge."

 

"Where are you going to cross over to?"

 

"You will find it after you walk there."

 

"I'm scared. Walk with me, please."

 

"No," he refused again, this time glaring at me like a kindergarten teacher looking at a small child. I think the guy in the black suit was starting to get a little annoyed with me. 

 

"Okay," I replied, walking dejectedly to the bridge. I peered down with curiosity, but saw nothing. Just darkness. I walked straight ahead, the bridge swaying in the wind. At first, I felt it was a little scary, but then again, I felt it was fun, like being on a giant hammock. Actually, I like hammocks; they're very comfortable.

 

"Are you ready to die?"

 

Suddenly, a voice rang out not far away, and a beautiful young man appeared in the middle of the bridge. He was wearing a completely black dress with a long skirt. His hair fluttered in the wind, his lips were coated with black lipstick, and even his eyes were pitch black and lifeless.

 

"Huh?" I was confused. I turned back to look towards the bridge for help, but saw no one. The man in black, Won, had disappeared.

 

"It's just us here now," the beautiful man said again. "Come on, Fah, are you ready to die?"

 

"Are you ready?" I pouted. His question was utterly bizarre. "No, I'm not. I proposed to my boyfriend, I put a ring on his finger, and I want to get married."

 

"Does that mean you won't die?"

 

"Yes, I'll get married first," I answered firmly. "Then I'll die with Won, or maybe die a little while before Won. I can't handle dying after him. I'd cry myself to death."

 

"Then go back," the beautiful man in black nodded in the direction I had come from.

 

"Where am I going?"

 

"Go find someone to die in your place," he replied. That answer sent shivers down my spine. Despite his beautiful face, his words sounded cruel.

 

"It's ridiculous. 'Bring anyone you think deserves to die here, and you can go back and get married.' Honestly, I still don't understand anything. Nothing makes sense. First, they tell you to jump off a bridge, then they lead you through the desert, then we come to another bridge, and now they're telling me to turn back? Is this a dream? Why is everything so chaotic and confusing?

 

So you want me to find someone to die in my place? Are you crazy? Who am I to decide who should live and who should die? The Grim Reaper? Really? That's bad. I don't know anything. I didn't want anyone to die in my place. I just wanted to go back to Won. Why are these people so hard to understand?

 

"I can't choose," I answered the beautiful man honestly. "I don't know who should die. I just don't want to die yet. I don't want to leave my boyfriend behind."

 

"He's all alone, you know? He has strange habits, so it's hard for him to make new friends."

 

"Since you died, your boyfriend is quite a worrisome person."

 

"Huh?" I exclaimed again. "Am I dead?"

 

"Not yet, but close," the beautiful man replied, his usual cold expression in place. 

 

"If you can find someone to die in your place, you won't die."

"Does that mean if I don't find a replacement, I'm going to die anyway?"

 

"Yes"

 

"What will happen to Won?"

 

"Actually, I think if you just want to see your boyfriend, you don't have to go back."

 

"He...why?"

 

"Because your boyfriend will be here soon."

 

I paused. Won will follow... follow me here, right?

 

"What does that mean?" I asked the beautiful man. "How can Won come here?"

 

"He is dying."

 

No, that's not right. His answer was utterly unappealing, but for some reason, I knew immediately that it was the truth. He wasn't just saying it to trick me. I wanted to meet Won, but not like this. Won still has many things he wants to do. Won likes being a mentor to the younger doctors, he said. And then there's the drawing part. He'd lost his passion for drawing for a while, and I only recently managed to reignite it. He hasn't even drawn all the pictures he wanted to draw yet. How can I let him die now?

 

I want Won to stay.

I want Won to live for a long time.

 

"Your death has left him devastated. He will be falsely accused, betrayed by friends, lose his job, and have to fight everything on his own."

 

No...no.

 

"Eventually, he will want to die because he cannot live without you."

 

I didn't want it to be like this. I love Won more than anything, and I know Won loves me just as much. I'm grateful that it turned out this way. That's right, but I don't want Won to give up everything just because I'm not there with him. I know it will be very difficult, harder than anything Won has ever experienced. But what can I do? Who can I ask? God? I don't know who he is, but if he exists, could he tell Won for me, "Don't die, please live on"? I would let him do that.

 

How could I do that to myself? I don't want my boyfriend to commit suicide. Won's life must go on. It shouldn't stop just because I stop breathing first.

 

"I'm giving you another chance. Choose."

 

No way. I can't bring other people to their deaths. But I don't want to die yet either. I want to go back. I want to go back and tell Won to stay for just a few more minutes. I believe I will. I can definitely change his mind.

 

"choose"

 

No, I don't choose it. That's what I thought to myself, before I lunged to the edge of the bridge and jumped into the darkness that I didn't even know what it was, anything at all. But please let me go back.

 

I held Won in my arms, letting the police take my cruel older brother away in a nearly unrecognisable state. Won continued to cry. It was as if my heart was breaking. He kept confusing my name with the name "Fourteen," another name that was also mine, a name I told him came from the fourteenth Grim Reaper, but in reality, it wasn't.

 

"We will send you back as our descendant; from now on, you will be the reaper of death, named Fourteen."

 

"Fourteen?"

"yes"

"."

 

"The fourteen reasons you listed are the reasons why you must return."

 

"Fourteen points that bear his name alone. Please remember them well from now on."

 

Fourteen is not a sequence. These are the fourteen reasons I gave the Lord of Death why I had to return to Won. I traded my soul for. To come back here. This is my last chance to save Won's life, at the cost of becoming a Grim Reaper forever.

Won’s part. 

Chieng was taken to the hospital that night, and of course, there were police watching him the entire time. After checking his mobile phone, the items Chieng hid in the car were clear evidence that he had gone to Gloy's house on the night of the incident. He stood in front of the house, calling for Gloy to open the door, but she refused. Instead of shouting to wake the neighbours, he repeatedly called and texted her. He took a picture of the front door and sent it to her, telling her to open it properly because if he managed to break in, he would kill her. Finally, Gloy agreed to reveal the truth, but he killed her anyway.

 

It was fortunate that Chieng was careless enough not to destroy Gloy's cell phone. He said that after Gloy died, he began to feel guilty and missed her so much that he didn't dare throw away or destroy her belongings. He didn't even dare delete the pictures or messages in the chat because Chieng considered them the last (and chilling) memories between them. And as long as he kept Gloy's phone safe, he would never get caught.

 

But as you can see, the last memory became incriminating evidence. Chieng surrendered to the evidence and confessed to everything. He said the reason he decided to follow her home was that he was angry at being severely insulted during their argument at the hospital. Gloy had belittled him, saying that if he were to date or marry her, he'd rather marry his older brother. When Chieng heard that, he was both angry at being insulted and jealous that Gloy said she would choose another man, especially since she had previously said she would never marry his older brother.

 

Because of that, he followed Gloy home, wearing medical gloves to prevent fingerprints and shoe covers to avoid leaving marks. He held her with his foot and killed her by swinging her head against the edge of the counter with great force, causing Gloy to die almost instantly. Catching the real killer didn't clear me of all charges, but it ended at the same time because, finally, the hero came to my rescue.

 

Do you remember that call? The one that came in, and I was too lazy to answer, so I had Fourteen answer it for me. The owner of that number was my hero, Tawan. He's one of the surgical residents who were in the operating room that day. A first-year resident who answered the phone.

 

On the day P'Fah had the accident, he suddenly contacted me and said he wanted to be a witness. Tawan explained the truth about why everyone gave testimony to the police supporting Gloy, even though they knew why the patient died that day. He said that after the case was closed, Gloy contacted everyone privately and offered money to help change Won's testimony. Many people were bribed with that money, plus they didn't want any trouble, so most agreed to side with Gloy, thinking it would be easier to resolve the matter than to side with him.

 

However, among the resident doctors, things were rather divided. Tawan said he didn't accept the money because he felt uncomfortable, but Gloy insisted, telling him to think about it. Meanwhile, the director summoned everyone on the surgical team involved in that case to a private meeting to instruct them to give consistent testimony, in line with Dr Gloy. Tawan said the director didn't explain why, but out of suspicion, he investigated and discovered that the hospital had received a massive donation from Gloy's father's company. This was the reason everyone had to remain completely silent, as no one wanted to be forced out.

 

Tawan was one of them. He was afraid of being fired, so he didn't dare speak up, even though he initially wanted to be a witness for me. He tried to forget about it, but he couldn't. Tawan had been following the news about me and struggling with his guilt. Finally, he consulted his girlfriend, a third-year anaesthesia resident, about it.

 

Guess who? Yes, that young doctor who consulted me about a patient who was having difficulty intubating, the one who's terrified of me... After Tawan discussed this with his girlfriend, she was very shocked and asked Tawan to be a witness for me. At first, Tawan refused. He was afraid of having problems with management, but his girlfriend begged him, saying he had to help me no matter what.

 

The truth is, he had initially planned to quit, even though he had been studying anesthesiology for almost 3 years and was about to leave to become a staff member. He was fully prepared, but because he thought he couldn't be a good anesthesiologist, continuing was pointless.

 

"But the professor made him change his mind. Tawan said the professor praised him, calling him smart and the only third-year student he trusted to enter the OR on his own. He came out of the room crying." Tawan decided not to quit because of my compliments, and as a result, he became my witness.

 

Tawan's decision truly brought everything to an end. The management team faced major scrutiny and was likely to be dismissed. The whole situation has spiralled out of control. On Gloy's side, who were already dealing with issues related to P’Yai, this has made things even worse. Meanwhile, the MP, the father of the opposing party (Fah's father), withdrew his complaint, admitting that he intentionally made a big deal out of it to create a positive image for himself, as he's currently negotiating behind the scenes to become Minister of Public Health. This means he knew from the start that his son didn't die from an allergic reaction to anaesthesia, and the reason he cremated the body without an autopsy was that he feared the detection of drugs in the body, as I suspected.

 

That's how it is. It's all over. I'm back to being the old Won. Not the suspect, not the villain, not the ruthless doctor. Just Won, the anesthesiologist who's been through a huge storm.

 

Even though I got my job back, I chose not to return to them. I resigned from the hospital and haven't planned on finding a new job yet. I just need to take a break to rest my body and mind, because I've been so tired lately.

 

You could say it's like the calm after the storm. I got a job, gained a good reputation, and regained my freedom. But unfortunately, I have to sit here celebrating. Celebrating this all by myself. The thing I wanted back most, I can't get it back. Fourteen never returned. Even on that day when I was certain he had come to save me from the dark side of Chieng, he spoke to me, but refused to show himself, not even a shadow.

 

I tried to communicate with him, thought about him, called out his name in my head, but there was no sign of him. No response, nothing at all. He's the cruellest Grim Reaper ever.

 

I've moved back home after trying to escape it for so long. Now I think it's time to face reality again. The truth is, this house was built by P'Fah and me together. Every corner and every angle of this place has been seen and discussed by us. - Khao Fah, the house, the old wooden house, the one we used to visit together in the stream—these things are not just junk, but precious gifts.

 

Oscar often came to my house to play, and every time he came, he would complain about the police, even though my own troubles had probably ended a while ago. Even though things are getting serious, Oscar and Captain Chada seem to have endless things to discuss.

 

Benny contacted me more often than I expected. He would ask Kate to FaceTime me at least once a week, and I flew to Canada to be with him. At least two or three times a year, that mischievous kid grows taller each time we see each other. Before I knew it, he was taller than me, and he speaks fluent English and French. Even so, Benny still shouts "Avon!" at the top of his lungs every time we meet.

Whenever I had free time, I got back to drawing. This time, I was more serious than before. I could sit hunched over the canvas all day, completely losing track of time. In one month, I drew several pictures, sold them for good prices, and even got commissioned. But I only accepted commissions in styles I enjoyed drawing because I wasn't planning on making money from it anyway. And during the time I spent fully alone, there was one thing I didn't dare tell anyone, not even Oscar or Benny. Actually... I think I'm not alone.

 

See? If I told you, people would probably think I'm crazy. I don't know, maybe I really am crazy, but I really can feel his presence, his presence lingering around.

He's around me all the time. On days when I come home late, the lights in the house are on, even though I'm a million per cent sure I turned them off before leaving. Every appliance I accidentally left plugged in is unplugged. When I fall asleep on the sofa, I wake up wrapped in a blanket. Or sometimes, when I'm lost in thought, especially when I'm wondering about something, I'll hear his voice whispering in a gentle response.

 

Everywhere I go, everything I do, I feel him there, always by my side. He reminds me of things I forget and helps me whenever I need it. I needed him. Even on my lonely days, he would give me a warm hug until those dull feelings faded away. And it wasn't just for a day or two, a few weeks, a few months, or a few years, but he was always with me. Even though he didn't always show himself clearly, he never disappeared. Even when I started my new job at the hospital, he would still sneak in, sit in the hospital, encourage me, work shifts with me, eat meals with me, and comfort me on days when I couldn't save patients.

 

Seasons change, and I grow older every day, but living alone doesn't make me sad. Many people ask whether I ever think about having a new boyfriend or whether I'm lonely, even though there are plenty of suitors. But I refuse them all. I usually show off my beautiful ring on my left hand and say, "I'm already taken." Even though the equal marriage law has been in effect for many years, I still haven't had the chance to get married to anyone.

 

Three days after my forty-fifth birthday, I was diagnosed with stage three stomach cancer, which simply means it had spread extensively to my lymph nodes. It was big news, the biggest in ten years. But I wasn't too stressed about it; I just went with the treatment process. There were periods of improvement, and periods of worsening where I had to stop working, undergo surgery, and receive chemotherapy – I looked terrible, but it was all okay because I had him by my side.

 

"Are you scared?" he asked me, his large hand loosely holding mine on the edge of the hospital bed.

 

"Not at all," I replied with a smile. Just looking at his face clearly made me feel like there was nothing to be afraid of in this world anymore. "Do I look bad?"

 

"Won is so cute."

 

I know that right now there's nothing about me that's even remotely cute. I'm forty-eight years old, and I'm getting sicker and sicker. My dark hair is now frail, and I’m emaciated, my face sunken. Nothing about me resembles the Won he once loved. Yet, he still smiles and looks at me as if I were the most beautiful person in his eyes.

 

"I'm getting this old," I said softly, feeling increasingly sleepy. "Of course you can say that when you're still as handsome as ever."

 

"Won is still handsome," he insisted, adding a double confirmation with a kiss on the back of his hand.

 

"The most handsome in my heart, even if you're old enough to be an uncle, you're still the most handsome uncle, Sugar Daddy." I burst out laughing even though I had almost no strength left. He tilted his cheek against the back of my hand and whispered softly.

 

"Fah loves you." Look at him. He looks like he's in his late twenties, yet he dares to call an old man like me "little one." Doesn't he feel any shame?

 

"Sleep well, my dear. Get some rest."

 

I smiled at him before closing my eyes. All the weariness I had carried for so many years gradually faded away. My body felt nothing anymore. And then, I was just sleepy, so sleepy that I thought this would be the longest sleep I've ever had.

 

"Go ahead."

 

P'Fah let go of my hand after we'd been walking hand-in-hand the whole way. Just now, while walking through the desert, when I said I was tired, he let me ride on his back. I was surprised. I didn't know that the Grim Reaper now provides such impressive service at every level.

 

"Aren't you coming with me?" I asked.

 

"No," P'Fah shook his head with a smile. 

 

"From here, you have to go alone."

 

"What should Won choose?"

 

"anything"

 

"Anything at all?"

 

"Yes," he smiled again, "Whatever makes Won happy, I want Won to be happy."

 

That's right.

I should be happy.

 

"okay"

 

I nodded in agreement before walking straight to the bridge. I'd seen it from afar before, but this was the first time I'd actually set foot on it. The wooden bridge was rotten and on the verge of collapse, yet no one seemed interested in repairing it. Shouldn't the Soul Collector be the most beautiful unit? This is depressing and dangerous.

 

Who would want to come here like this? I grumbled to myself but kept walking until I reached the middle of the bridge.

 

"Ready to die or-" Before the man in black could finish his sentence, I spun to the left side of the bridge, grabbed the rope barrier, and jumped down without a second thought. Not even a single second.

 

"P'Fah!"

 

I ran straight towards P'Fah, who was waiting in the same spot. He burst into laughter when he saw me return, and then ran towards me, shouting his name. But it's far away.

 

"Don't run—" I lunged at him without braking, sending the Grim Reaper tumbling to the sand while I lay on top of him, embracing his tall body. He held on tightly, as if they hadn't seen each other in ages, even though I had just jumped in a few minutes ago. Was it ten minutes?

 

"You little rascal, you pig!" P'Fah hugged me tightly and swung me left and right as if he were thoroughly smitten. "You jumped without caring about anything!"

 

"Of course, I've been planning this for years," I replied proudly, lifting my head from his broad chest to look at his handsome face, which I had missed so much. I don't understand why I miss him so much, even though we've been together all this time. "Am I good at pleading?"

 

"Very good," P'Fah replied, gently stroking my head.

 

"And do I look cuter now?" I asked, before getting up from him. It wasn't because I was afraid of being heavy, because a Grim Reaper doesn't feel heavy anyway.

 

"I already was, but I wanted him to see my new form fully. 'Won is a child again,' Won said, in a healthy, robust body, even wearing all-black clothes just like him."

 

"Cute. He’s  cute no matter what."

 

I was grinning from ear to ear, even though I knew there was no way P'Fah could ever accept me in any other way.

 

"How old are you at this age?" P'Fah asked. 

 

It's true that Grim Reapers don't usually have a physical body, but the absence of a physical body allows us to become something else. Or anyone else we want, except for the working hours, which have to change according to the wishes of the spirits.

 

"Guess."

 

"I know everything," P'Fah pretended to be haughty, before bursting into laughter again as usual. "But why choose someone this age? I thought you'd choose someone younger. Even more than this."

 

"Wow... you even chose to recreate the version you were thirty-seven years old!"

 

"At that time, P'Fah was feeling great, the most handsome and thrilling moment of my life."

I laughed and playfully slapped his arm out of annoyance.

 

"I wish I could have met you as fourteen," I replied. "I wanted to keep this body."

 

"Oh...little piggy," P'Fah heard that and wiggled towards me, then pulled me into another hug. "I love him so much, this fourteen, P'Fah."

 

"The sky is getting annoyed now."

 

"You're jealous of yourself too," I hugged him back, but secretly pinched the jealous one's waist. "Oh, really?"

 

"You're such a jerk, you little meatball, insulting me!"

 

"That Ting Tong"

 

P'Fah pushed me away, grabbed my shoulders with both hands, and shook me as if I were some kind of fortune-telling can. Is this the Grim Reaper's revenge? Why hasn't he grown up at all after all this time?

 

"Ow, stop!" I reached out and shook his head back, wanting him to understand how it feels to be shaken, but P'Fah just burst into laughter, clearly amused. He eventually stopped willingly. "Look at him playing. How old is he?"

 

"How did you manage to convince them to agree?" P'Fah ignored my incessant complaining and asked.

 

"It's like applying for a job," I shrugged lightly, implying it was a piece of cake for me. "Just explain why they need you."

 

"Make fifteen requests to become the god of death."

 

"Fifteen?"

"yes

 

P'Fah burst out laughing. He looked at me and shook his head slightly, as if he couldn't believe I would do something like that.

 

"From today onwards, please take care of me... Senior Fourteen."

 

The End