West: The Sun From Another Star

We arrived at the hospital around two o'clock in the afternoon. When we arrived in Los Angeles, the guy in the next room immediately led me to the hospital. When the car stopped, I looked around and realised it was a very large hospital. When we got out of the car, he gave me a tour of the hospital.

 

Usually, just using my senses around the house is enough to exhaust me, let alone walking around the hospital like this. I have to rest several times, otherwise I'm sure I'll collapse before I finish the loop. This is why I've been here for an hour.

 

But no matter where I went, it was the same; I couldn't find his mother. Even in the hospital room where she used to be, although I couldn't go inside, I tried to use my mind to look around, but I couldn't see anyone. The areas where he said his mother used to sit and relax were also nowhere to be found.

 

The guy in the next room sat down on the bench after buying me some water. He went to buy water without asking me, as if he knew I'd need some. Actually, I'd seen that happen twice before, so he probably remembered. I took the water and drank almost the whole bottle at once because my throat was unbearably dry.

 

Right now, my heart is racing, and my mind is completely disoriented because I'm being harassed. There are definitely a lot of spirits in this hospital, and I'm in a strange place. I've never used my senses like this abroad, so the spirit waves or energy here feel very different from anything I've experienced before.

 

This isn't the first time I've been harassed by spirits. I've encountered all sorts of things since I was a child. This has made me accustomed to it, and I know that they can't do anything but try to scare me. I don't have anything to fear from those spirits anymore.

It's just that sometimes I encounter many spirits at once, and when they're powerful, it makes me feel very disoriented. It's especially worse when I open my senses like that; it's like we're opening our hearts to invite them in.

 

"Hey, are you okay?" the person next to me asked. I nodded slowly, even without opening my eyes. The last thing I saw was a female spirit dressed in a hospital gown standing in front of me, staring intently. I didn't know what she wanted. There are many reasons why spirits try to approach us; perhaps they're asking for help or trying to pursue something, and sometimes there's no reason at all, they just want to tease or scare us.

 

"You look cold," he asked, probably noticing I was shivering.

 

"No, that's not it."

 

"Then why are you trembling?"

 

"It's… so chaotic, I've encountered so many spirits," I replied in a hoarse voice.

 

"Oh, really? Have you ever encountered a really fierce-looking spirit?"

 

"Okay," I replied.

 

"So, is it like in the movies?"

 

"I was just harassed," I said. Actually, Mr Donut was one of them, because he once pulled my leg so hard I almost fell off the bed.

 

"How does it feel?"

 

"It hurts a little."

 

"And then what happened to you?"

 

"Then I got angry."

 

"Is that all?"

 

"I'm warning you in advance, I don't like it. If you don't listen, I'll get revenge."

 

"Do they hear? I've noticed that most ghosts don't listen. Like in your room, for example, I've been scolding them constantly, but they're still noisy."

 

"But now the sound isn't as loud as it used to be."

 

"Yeah, since you arrived, it's become quieter and cries less."

 

"Cream has cheered up a lot since she got back into K-pop," I said. "I threatened that if she made any more noise, I wouldn't play K-pop music or tell her stories about the artists anymore."

 

"That noisy Donut who used to tease me has disappeared too; he's probably staying with Min, right?"

 

"Perhaps so."

 

"Can humans and ghosts really live together?"

 

"Theoretically, it shouldn't be," I said. "My grandmother said that the living and the dead shouldn't contact each other for many reasons. Actually, I wanted to warn Min about this, but seeing her so happy with Donut, I couldn't bring myself to say anything."

 

"Let's go."

 

"Are you going to San Francisco right away?" I asked when I saw him stand up.

 

"The flight departs tonight. We'll have dinner before we leave. Are you okay?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine now." I pushed myself up, feeling a little better.

 

Recently, the weather has been a bit chilly as winter approaches. For me, good weather is when it's neither too hot nor too cold. I got back in the car, and it drove to a restaurant not far from the hospital, a large red fried chicken place. I looked inside and saw there weren't many people. I followed him in without saying anything, ordered fried chicken, and sat down to eat.

 

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking surprised and frowning at my hands. "What are you doing?"

 

"Skin."

 

"Huh?!"

 

I didn't react to the expression on the person sitting opposite me, as if they'd seen the strangest thing in the world. My hands continued peeling off the skin from the fried chicken before I took the remaining meat and put it in my mouth.

 

"You... wait, you don't eat skin, do you?"

 

"YES."

 

"Hey, really? Why?" He continued to ask, his voice still sounding surprised.

 

"It's hard; eating it will prick your gums."

 

“…” He frowned even more than before, then shook his head slightly, “No, man, what are you doing? They’ve put so much effort into frying it until the skin is crispy.”

 

“…”

"You can't do that, I can't accept it."

 

"Hmm."

 

"Why not order tender chicken?"

 

"Crispy chicken tastes better."

 

"Damn it," he cursed, "You're a sinner, you're a sinner. I can't accept peeling the skin off fried chicken."

 

“…”

"So, no dipping sauce?"

 

"I don't like fever."

 

"Does it taste good like that?"

 

"Delicious," I said. "Chicken has its own unique flavour."

 

“Really? No way, I think it’s more like eating toilet paper,” he said, shaking his head slightly in frustration. “If you peel the skin off a fried chicken, the sin is the same as eating red liquid from a god’s altar.”

 

"Has it really come to that?"

 

Actually, this isn't the first time someone has reacted this way to me not eating the fried chicken skin. North was the same; he objected in this way too, and he'd be even more surprised to find out I don't dip it in sauce, I just eat the chicken meat itself.

 

I don't eat any animal skin because I don't like it. Besides, fried chicken skin is tough and sharp, making it unpleasant to chew. I also don't like most sauces, so my experience with fried chicken is just eating the meat itself.

 

"It's pathetic for someone who grew up eating fried chicken like that," the person opposite complained, shaking their head again. "If it were crispy fried chicken, what would you do?"

 

"Then just skin them."

 

"Damn it, peeling the skin off crispy fried chicken, man!" He frowned so much he almost clutched his head. "It's so painful for you, having to peel the skin off crispy fried chicken after eating it."

 

"But North insisted I eat, so I'm only eating now."

 

"Yeah, North did the right thing." He sighed, as if what I was doing to the fried chicken was hurting another fried chicken fan. North also said his heart was almost broken, "Then give me the skin, I'll eat it."

 

"Hmm," I said. He reached for the chicken skin I had just peeled off to eat, then handed me a piece of chicken meat that had been completely skinned, "Here, take the meat."

 

"Aren't you going to eat?"

 

"Normally, people like it because of the skin, right?" he replied. I took the piece of chicken he'd just tossed me and only managed to eat a little before I was full. I sat waiting for the person opposite me to finish eating. Ter had surprised me with his appetite before, but I was even more surprised to see the person in front of me eat so much.

 

After finishing our meal, we got in the car and discussed where we would go next, as we still had plenty of time.

 

“Let’s go buy a novel,” I said, remembering we’d agreed to go find one. He nodded slightly and drove off to find a bookstore. I looked out at the unfamiliar city; I’d only been to LA once before, when my father and uncle took me, but not this area.

 

The car stopped in front of a large bookstore, whose design inadvertently made me stop and admire it until the guy in the next room called out to me and asked why I was daydreaming. I raised my hand to take a picture before following him inside, and was surprised to find the interior spacious with many books neatly arranged.

 

I went to the mystery section, searching for the book I wanted, until I found it. I casually browsed around and picked up a book that I found interesting.

 

"Have you read this book?" he asked, picking up a book. I moved closer to look, as sometimes the cover of the original book and the translation don't match. I shook my head in response.

 

"That looks good," he said, but then put it back in its place.

 

"You're not taking it?"

 

"No, that's all there is, but I don't even have time to read it."

 

I reached for the book and put it in my bag. This one looks interesting. He doesn't have time to read, but I do.

 

"Did you take it?"

 

"YES."

 

"Okay, then remember to summarise it for me after you've finished reading."

 

"YES."

 

Once we had finished shopping, we left the store. I didn't buy too much, just enough to take with me because I had other things to carry, and we still had to go somewhere else. He put the bags in the trunk before driving back to the airport.

 

We arrived at the airport much earlier than expected, giving us plenty of time to check in and wait comfortably. I took out the novel I had just bought and read it while waiting to board the plane.

 

I don't read English novels very often. I can speak a little because I have to chat with my dad, but I'm not good enough to read an entire book without any problems. So, I have to take out my phone and look up vocabulary many times. Unlike the other person, he read very fluently, without any difficulty.

 

When the time came, we boarded our plane to San Francisco, the final stop on this trip. It only took a short time from LA to San Francisco, and we arrived around four o'clock. As soon as I got off the plane, I felt more tired than before. This was probably due to accumulated fatigue from the hospital and the travel. But I still managed to stand up and get into the car.

 

When I got in the car, I fell asleep just like I did in Hawaii. I woke up again when the guy next door called me. I opened my eyes with difficulty. It was dark around me, with some light shining in. Turning my head to look around, I realised I was back in the neighbourhood. I saw a large, beautiful house not far from the parking lot.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

I saw the dwarf standing absentmindedly in front of the house. I don't know why, but I consoled myself by thinking it might be because my house was so breathtakingly beautiful. Actually, I'm very uncomfortable bringing other people here. As everyone knows, this place holds many memories for me. I struggled with myself for a long time before I could drive in here, because, after all, it was necessary.

 

It was past eleven o'clock at night. The dwarf had been dozing off the whole way, but he still didn't look any better. Maybe I should let him rest, as usual. I stopped the car in front of the house, keys in hand. Almost every time I come back here, I feel hesitant to go inside. I need some time to prepare myself mentally. The dwarf, leaning against the wall beside me, said nothing, though he looked like he was about to faint.

 

Having mentally prepared myself to unlock the door, I reached out and pressed the switch beside it. Taking off my shoes, I said in a familiar tone: "Mom, I'm home."

 

And as always, there has been no response for many years. When the central light in the house switched on, a familiar image appeared. I grew up here, and every part of the house felt familiar. Nothing had been moved or changed in the slightest. It was always clean and tidy because my father had someone regularly take care of it. The backyard garden was also still tended to as before.

 

I carried the little guy up to the living room; he flopped onto the bed. All I needed to do was grab my things, turn on the air conditioner like last time, close the door, and head back to my room.

 

Only two days left here. On the first day, I left Thailand and arrived in Hawaii on the afternoon of the second day. The third day is today; I left LA in the morning and arrived in San Francisco in the evening, so it was late. It's been a trip full of travel.

 

I went downstairs for a walk; I couldn't possibly sleep in this situation. I tried not to think about the past, about where my mother had been and what she had been doing, as I often inadvertently think about whenever I return home.

 

Stepping out into the backyard, it was dimly lit only by the outdoor lamps. I took a cigarette from my pocket and began to smoke, letting the grey smoke drift away on the breeze. I didn't forget the bottle of beer I'd brought with me, opened it, and took a sip.

 

It's good that the dwarf was tired enough to rest first. I'll have a little more time to prepare, since this is likely the last place my mother will be. If the answer had been no, perhaps it would have been time for me to give up, as I'd always thought.

 

If Mom were really here, I wonder if she'd be sad? She's all alone. Usually, we only come back here at the end of the year. I wonder if she's watching right now? If she knew I was smoking, she'd probably give me a good scolding. If you're really still here, then come out and scold them...

 

I sighed, and my thoughts started wandering again. I dialled Direk's number. Soon after, he answered.

 

(Do you know what time it is in Thailand?)

"I don't know, but is Dad free?"

 

(Yeah, I have some free time.)

"Then why are you complaining?"

 

(Just complaining for fun, but how have you been lately?)

 

"I haven't met anyone yet. Neither in Hawaii nor in LA."

 

(Are you in San Francisco right now?)

"Yes, that's right."

 

(Finally, we've arrived.)

"YES."

 

(It's almost midnight there. How much beer and cigarettes have you spent?)

 

"I've just started smoking, I've only just arrived."

 

(Ah.)

"Direk."

 

(What's up?)

"Direk."

 

(What?)

"What should we do if we don't meet?"

 

(...)

 

"I've tried so hard, going all the way to such a remote place and still not finding anything," I said in a low voice, placing the cigarette on the table, bowing my head so my forehead rested on my wrist, "Direk."

 

(You like calling my name repeatedly when you don't know what to do, don't you realise?)

 

"Really? Maybe so," I said. "What should we do?"

 

(There's nothing we can do, you know that. We have to go this far because we want to be more confident and also to make it easier to let go, right?)

 

"Direk has let go, right?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. Direk had let go a long time ago, but I still couldn't accept the truth, so I remained like this.

 

(YES.)

 

"Why did Direk let go? I still can't accept this truth. I'm so stupid."

 

(Because you're here.)

"Not moved at all."

 

(I wanted it to be a little more touching, but you keep ruining it.)

 

"So, tell me, could it be so moving that you'd shed tears?"

 

(You're really teasing me, I'm not going to say anything more.) I heard Direk sigh from the other end of the line, (Being able to tease you means it's okay.)

 

"Just a little while." I shrugged slightly. "Let's see how things turn out, then I'll call Direk back."

 

(YES.)

"Work hard to earn money, Direk."

 

(Yeah, it's because of you, earning money for you to eat and drink.) Direk complained before hanging up.

 

I put the phone down on the table, put away the cigarette in my hand and lit another one, gazing up at the sky above my house, lost in thought. I felt so empty inside that I kept lighting cigarettes in the hope of feeling better.

 

On an ordinary night in San Francisco, I was lost in my own thoughts and memories. The smell of beer mingled with the smell of cigarettes, the bitter taste cutting short the sweetness.

 

And all that night… I couldn’t pull myself out of those thoughts.

…..

 

I woke up because the sunlight was shining in my eyes. Last night, I remember being so drunk that I didn't want to get up. I just wanted to sleep right there. Luckily, nothing serious, just a little back and neck pain.

 

Seeing the piles of empty beer cans made me wonder why I drank so much. And those cigarette butts, too; I'll probably have to quit for a while when I go back to Thailand.

I thought the dwarf was probably still asleep. It was past eight o'clock, and I was starting to feel hungry. I didn't think I'd let him make breakfast anymore, so I decided to go out to eat. I knocked on the door for a while, but there was no answer. I had to use my key to open the door and found him still sound asleep in bed.

 

"Hey!" I called, but it didn't wake up. I went in and shook it, and found it was burning up with fever. Oh, is it sick?

 

"Huh?" it replied in a hoarse voice, slowly sitting up.

 

"Are you not feeling well?"

 

"Perhaps so."

 

"So, what do we do now?"

 

"It's alright. What time is it now?"

 

"It's 8 o'clock."

 

"Hmm." That's all it replied, then it stood up and told me to go outside so it could shower and change. Seeing that, I went outside to shower and change. When I was finished, I sat waiting on the sofa in the middle of the room, hoping it wouldn't fall and hit its head on the bathroom wall.

 

Just a few minutes after I secretly criticised him in my mind, he came out of the room looking rather unwell. Yesterday his face was pale, but now it was as red as a boiled shrimp—it was terrible. He was even wearing a coat and a hat.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

"YES."

 

"You should rest a bit, let me go buy some food," I said, because if he wasn't feeling well, I was worried that contact would only make things worse.

 

"It's okay," it replied weakly, as if it were perfectly fine. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, because judging by its appearance, it was clearly not well at all. Anyone else would have been stuck at home. Was this the type of person who exaggerated things?

 

Since it said so, I stopped insisting and took it out for a meal. It dozed off the way there. When I called it, it woke up and slowly followed me into the restaurant. After ordering, it only ate a little before putting down its chopsticks. Perhaps it wasn't feeling well, which is why it couldn't eat much; normally, it eats like a hungry tiger.

 

Actually, it's not surprising that he's not well, travelling constantly like that, and always looking tired.

 

"You're not feeling well, will you be alright?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"About your exposure to that."

 

"It's okay, actually, this way of interacting will be even better."

 

"Why is that?"

 

"Because the mind weakens," it said. I nodded slightly, seemingly familiar with this—the idea that unwell people are more susceptible to ghosts. After we finished eating, we got in the car. I intended to stop somewhere first, the cemetery where its mother was buried. How could it possibly forget this place?

 

I led him to stand in front of the sign bearing his mother's name. She stood silently for a moment, then took off her necklace and closed her eyes. I watched anxiously, but unexpectedly, he suddenly fainted and fell down.

 

"Damn!" I blurted out unintentionally. Luckily, I reacted quickly; it would have fallen face-first to the ground. I looked at the person burning up in my arms. Damn, did he faint because he wasn't feeling well, or was he possessed? Last time at the hospital, he also said there was something wrong.

 

What bad luck, Thit! Why did you bring a dying person here? No way, I'm a doctor! I can't let it die.

 

I had to pick it up and carry it back to the car, placing it in the passenger seat. I drove it to the nearest hospital just to be sure. The doctor said it was fine, just tired and had a fever. It needed to rest for a while until it recovered.

 

I looked at the person lying on the bed with an IV drip in their arm. I told them to just rest a little. Damn it, what a hassle, having to take them to the hospital again. I'll probably have to spend money on checkups again. Oh well, it's not that important, but why did they have to try so hard to come out like that? If it were me, I'd stay home and not drag myself outside.

 

He only fainted briefly; an IV drip would cure him, but if he's possessed by a ghost from the cemetery, he's definitely going to die. Bringing it here was already a hassle, and now I've made it like this. Damn it, I feel so guilty!

 

Since there was nothing to do but wait for him to wake up, I thought I should call North to let him know about his friend's situation. If he went back to Thailand and Thit didn't tell North anything, North would ask why I didn't tell him from the beginning.

 

(Hi!) North answered the phone with his usual enthusiastic tone. North was always full of energy, a stark contrast to the guy lying in bed like a cucumber right now, like a robot with a dead battery.

 

"Your friend isn't feeling well."

(Oh, really?)

 

"Why do you sound so uninterested?"

 

(He's not feeling well, that's normal for weaklings.)

 

"Oh, really? He fainted and is in the hospital."

 

(Isn't he eating rice?)

"We do eat, but only a little."

 

(Oh, normally, he faints and ends up in the hospital because of exhaustion. He doesn't like eating rice.)

 

"But I saw it eating."

(He only ate because he needed to; he has a stomach problem.) North said. (And what did the doctor say? Just not feeling well?)

 

"I'm tired too."

 

(Oh, that's right, it's because it's too strenuous. Just normal use is tiring enough, and now going to so many places with you, it must be too much exertion for his body to handle.)

 

"Damn, I feel so guilty."

(You feel guilty, too?)

 

"Hey, I'm a good person, didn't you know that?"

 

(He's kind, but he has the temper of a dog.)

"I can smell something rotten."

 

(That's terrible.) North chuckled a little. (He's not well, but he won't rest, will he?)

 

"Well, what can you do? That's just normal for it."

 

(Yeah, that's just how Phi Phung Tai is. He never cares or worries about himself, like, 'Never mind, I'm fine.' I think even if he were stabbed almost to death, he'd still say 'I'm fine' and get up to work again.)

 

"Really?"

 

(Yeah, that's right. It thinks it's a robot or something; it's completely indifferent to everything. There are only a few things it reacts to.)

 

"Yeah, you think the same as me. It's like a robot with a dead battery, incredibly slow. Share some of your energy with your friend; you're being a bit too crazy yourself."

 

(It's normal, I'm just tired.)

 

"According to the doctor, that's all there is to it, but..."

(But what, sir?)

 

"Yesterday it said that when it used its senses, it was harassed by ghosts. And just now I took it to the cemetery, and cemeteries are full of ghosts, right? I really think..."

 

(Damn it.)

 

"Yeah, I'm worried too. He's not going to just wake up and start strangling me, is he?"

 

(No way, brother. Phi Phung Tai is very mentally strong.)

 

"But if it says it's not feeling well, then its mental state will weaken."

 

(Yeah, damn it.)

 

I joked around with North for a while before hanging up. The conclusion was that it's normal for him; he likes to push himself. I don't really understand people who push themselves like that, because normally, I can't handle even the slightest problem.

 

I lay there for a while and then fell asleep. When I woke up, it was already cold. The little boy was sitting on the hospital bed, turned to look at me with his usual listless expression, but he seemed a little more alert.

 

"Are you... okay?"

 

"YES."

 

"Why did you faint? Just because you were tired?"

 

"No," it replied in a hoarse voice. I got up, poured some water into a glass, and handed it to it. Was I now acting as a water server? 

 

"There are so many spirits in the cemetery, and I'm not feeling well, so I'm completely disoriented."

 

"So that's why you fainted?"

 

"Someone rushed in, and then it passed out."

 

"Were you startled?"

Something like that.

 

"So you weren't possessed or anything, right?"

 

"No, they only have bad intentions, but it'll probably be alright," it replied nonchalantly. It probably already knew its own situation.

 

“They didn’t do anything to you except just barge in, did they?” I asked as I retrieved my empty glass and put it back in its place. He nodded in response, “Why? I thought it would be like in the movies, like they were possessed or something. Just a little scare and it’s over.”

 

"That's all they could do, because I wasn't feeling well and my spirits were a little low, but not that low."

 

"Oh, so you've met him before?"

 

"Yes, but I've never fainted because of a spirit."

 

"Is it because you've encountered many ghosts?"

 

"That's only partly true, and it's also because they're not well that they're weakened. Moreover, as I said, they have malicious intentions."

 

"Wait a minute," I said, frowning as I tried to formulate my words. "You said this was the first time you fainted because that spirit had evil intentions, which means this was the strongest one you've ever encountered, right?"

 

"Correct."

 

"What guarantees that you'll always be safe? Because being strong doesn't mean you'll always survive, right? There might be some ghost that wants to harm you, right?"

 

"Correct."

 

"Oh, so what if that spirit in the cemetery just now did something to you?"

"It might even lead to death."

 

“…Oh my god.” I fell silent at the words of the person sitting on the bed. The speaker didn't seem worried at all, unlike me, and the listener didn't know what to say anymore. If things had gone wrong just now, could that ghost have killed it?

That's...

 

"Sorry."

 

"What?"

 

"Why didn't you say it would be dangerous? If you're not well and your spirits are so low, then just stay home and rest."

 

"I wasn't feeling well, so I went outside for a bit."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"If your spirit is weak, your senses will be more sensitive, you may be able to sense stronger spirits than before, so you'll find it easier to encounter them."

 

It fell silent and said nothing more. I frowned, looking at the person opposite me in confusion. How foolish! It sensed that those ghosts were stronger because of its weak spirit, but they would also be easier to harm. Why didn't it think of this? And it could even be fatal. North said it liked to push itself too hard, but I didn't think it was that serious. Does it think everything is important except itself? Are there really people like that?

 

Then it just kept acting so nonchalant, as if nothing had happened, which annoyed me. If it really died, what would happen next? Wouldn't I feel any guilt at all? I was the one who begged it for help first, and I was the one who brought it here. I took it to the cemetery because it said it was okay. Who would have thought it would be so close to death? It's unbelievable...

 

"I don't understand."

 

"What?"

 

"I don't understand why you have to go to this extent. It wouldn't hurt to rest for another two or three hours until you feel better. I wasn't cursing or getting angry at all."

 

"It's normal to feel unwell; there's nothing serious about it."

 

“…”

"There's one more thing."

 

"What?"

 

"Just think that you'll do your best to help, that's all."

 

I walked out of the hospital room, leaving that enigmatic guy behind. Just thinking about helping to the best of your ability… is that right? That's amazing!

 

Yes, you were determined to help me even without expecting anything in return. You even travelled halfway around the world with me. You're weak, but you still chose to try to help. Your face was pale, and you almost fainted countless times. You stayed up all night colouring your mother's painting without sleep or rest, and then you came to help me when you weren't feeling well. You said you were okay, but in reality, you nearly died.

 

Yeah, do whatever you want, that's your business! North said you were already like that, didn't he? So, whether you prefer to overexert yourself or be a good person, I don't care! What about me? Why do I feel so frustrated?!