JKA 10

“…”

“Who do you think you’re trying to screw over!”

1129 threw the T-shirt in his hand forcefully and strode toward Jiwoon. The moment Jiwoon decided he really had to jump, complaints started flooding in. 1129’s head throbbed. He had never in his life encountered a human like this before.

“You’re always thinking of jumping at the drop of a hat. Do you think everything will be solved if you die?”

“…”

“Stop glaring and say something.”

“W-would you even listen if I did?”

“Then what the fuck, I wouldn’t listen? Have I not granted your wishes?”

With a murderous glint in his eyes, 1129 pulled another wad of paper out of thin air and fluttered it in front of Jiwoon’s face.

“This is the content of your complaints that I’ve processed.”

“…”

“‘I wish someone would always keep the house clean.’ ‘I wish someone would cook delicious meals.’ ‘I wish there was no pile of laundry.’ ‘I wish the house smelled nice’… Fuck, am I your maid?”

“…”

“‘I don’t want to worry about housework.’ ‘I wish someone would take care of all the bills.’ ‘I wish someone would receive packages for me.’ ‘I wish someone would organize all the deliveries.’ I’m doing all this for you, right? You know I’m even handling your life below the belt, right?”

At 1129’s words, Jiwoon recalled what had happened to him just a few hours ago. The moment he had been clung to so stickily since the morning.

“Th-that’s.”

“‘I want to fuck a handsome man every day before I die.’”

“…”

“What are you even doing besides breathing? I do everything for you from one to ten.”

With those words, 1129 released Jiwoon. The moment his body became free, it immediately lurched toward the window, but 1129, as if he had already expected it, grabbed Jiwoon’s arm and yanked him back forcefully. At that, Jiwoon’s body was thrown into 1129’s embrace.

“Ugh…”

“How dare you work an angel like a servant… I got housewife’s eczema because of you. Do you know that?”

Due to the sudden, rapid movement, Jiwoon’s heart pounded wildly. Gasping for breath, Jiwoon squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them. His head was spinning. He had been trying to die just a moment ago, but when his body actually lurched out the window, goosebumps ran all over his body from head to toe.

It still felt strange, as if the ground beneath his feet was wide open. The thought that he could have really died made his body go limp. Leaning against 1129’s embrace like that, Jiwoon just blinked his eyes. No sound came from his chest. There was also no feeling. The madly pounding heart, the heaving chest—it was all his own.

It was only natural since 1129 was not human. He had no heart, nor did he breathe. Was this really an angel from heaven? For some reason, Jiwoon’s heart calmed down, and he pushed 1129 away and stood up.

At that, 1129 stared intently at Jiwoon. Jiwoon blinked his eyes at this, then suddenly realized he was topless.

“Wh-what are you looking at…”

Jiwoon said, hastily covering his upper body. 1129, indifferent, reached out to Jiwoon. Then he wiped the drop of blood from the scratch on his cheek with his thumb.

“Nothing to look at, yet you’re making a fuss.”

At those words, Jiwoon’s ears turned bright red. Jiwoon hurriedly swatted 1129’s arm away and picked up the T-shirt he had thrown, putting it on. Then he dashed over to Hanbyeol, who was still standing motionless.

Panting, Jiwoon reached out and waved his hand back and forth in front of Hanbyeol’s face. Hanbyeol showed no reaction, and only then did Jiwoon grab his bag and hurry out of the cafeteria. All the while, 1129 did not even spare a glance at Jiwoon as he cleaned up the surroundings with a cigarette in his mouth.

With a single gesture of his hand, the broken window returned to its original place. Then, as if nothing had happened, time began to flow again. The cafeteria became somewhat noisy again with the sound of students eating and chatting, and Hanbyeol, standing a distance away, was frantically looking around.

They did not notice 1129’s presence. 1129 strode up to the restored glass wall. Then he saw Jiwoon, clutching his bag to his chest and glancing back furtively as he left as if fleeing.

“Such a handful…”

Muttering as he exhaled a puff of smoke, 1129 was watching the receding Jiwoon when he suddenly stopped talking and frowned. It was because he had discovered a red mark left on the windowpane like a small dot. It seemed a little blood from the glass shard that had scratched Jiwoon’s cheek had gotten on it.

Staring at that tiny dot, 1129 reached out his hand. Then, with a strange expression, he placed his index finger on the mark and wiped it. The blood did not wipe away, as if it were not on the surface. But for some reason, the same blood that was on the windowpane remained on 1129’s thumb.

The gusting wind parted Jiwoon’s bangs, revealing his face fully. The angel, who had been twisting his body this way and that, spewing curses, somehow made his way into Jiwoon’s small studio apartment. Then he settled down in front of him, who was cowering and trembling by the entrance, and squatted down.

‘A-a ghost…’

The angel reached out a hand—whoosh—toward Jiwoon, who was muttering, half out of his mind, and grabbed his chin, lifting it. Then he moved it this way and that, checking his face.

‘What on earth is your problem?’

‘Please, spare me.’

At the sight of Jiwoon muttering in a voice as small as an ant’s, the angel sneered.

‘One moment you’re throwing a fucking fit about wanting to die, and now you’re scared I’ll kill you?’

That was just how humans were. Even when they are tying a rope to the ceiling to hang themselves, if a robber breaks in with a knife, they will beg for their lives. No matter how shitty their life was, even if they had passed away peacefully in their sleep, when they met an angel, they all muttered that they wanted to live just a little longer. That was true regardless of age.

Not a single human was purely joyful, thinking, ‘An angel has come, so I’m going to heaven.’ They all could not easily take a step away, due to some regret, lingering attachment, or longing for the people they left behind. It could not be helped. Because humans were made that way.

‘Now that you’re actually thinking of dying, you don’t want to, right?’

‘…’

‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you. In the first place, there’s nowhere to send a soul like yours.’

You cannot go to heaven, and you cannot go to hell. It was partly because your lifespan was not over yet, but a soul so riddled with regret and attachment like this could only wander eternally around the place where it died. Because, just as in life, it did not know what to do.

‘Th-there’s nothing in my house…’

‘I know, you idiot.’