[50 B1A4 FICS CHALLENGE] #18

[cyan13]

018. fool: cnu/jinyoung

Word count: 4k~
Warnings: graphic imagery, gross misrepresentation of death, romanticization of the same, abuse of italics,
A/N: idk with this it has nothing to do with the prompt hahahaha /sobs/  this was supposed to be a crack-y fic with dumb cnu and an equally dumb jinyoung but then. oops.

cut from a line in kendare blake's anna dressed in blood



he peeks out into the long stretch of road, noting the rickety houses in various states of decay lining it. he's used to this picture, having walked streets such as this for years, passing closed doors and barred windows, searching for that one person, for that one soul. it's quite late, as his watch fastidiously informs him, and yet the entire street is still littered with people--drunks, mostly-- old men brandishing cheap bottles of liquor, yelling at any and all who would listen--which is, to say, none at all. it's neighborhoods like this that annoys the hell out of jinyoung. unlike the other Charons, who had an annoying penchant for drama (screaming, begging--the works) jinyoung preferred to make quick work of his...candidates. that's precisely why he chooses to visit in the dead of night, when the candidate (a little inside joke of his, to the amusement of no one) is fast asleep and is least likely to be making much of a ruckus. he scans the street, noting that his prospect does not seem to be one of those out and about. good.

he unrolls the little piece of paper in his pocket, and mouths the name shin dongwoo, tasting each letter, rolling each syllable around his tongue. he steps away from the shadows, keeping his head low as he navigates his way through.

people don't see him. well, not exactly. they notice him, a tall skinny guy in a dark overcoat, too prettily dressed for such a drab place, but they won't remember. it's a Charon thing, and frankly, one of the few perks of the job (another inside joke,ha!) that he actually appreciates.

he stops outside one such door: old, splintered, nothing special--well, not exactly. because behind this door is shin dongwoo. he steps through the door, sighing inwardly when he notes the dimly lit lamp, because he'd been counting on a quiet job. his eyes land on him--shin dongwoo, his mind supplies--his Ward, sitting on the bed with his back propped against a pillow, reading. the normalcy of it strikes jinyoung as deliciously amusing. here he is, his final assignment for the night, reading a book on, of all things, gardening.

he gives the guy some time to register his presence, noting that familiar look of surprise he's seen a thousand times before. he waits for it to turn into recognition, and then denial, and then fear. he waits for the screaming to start. instead, shin dongwoo smiles politely, sets down his book on the bedside table and bows to him in a greeting. jinyoung nearly bows back in response, but checks himself in time.

"sorry, i--i thought you'd be here early but then--i thought maybe you forgot." shin dongwoo throws the thin blanket off his legs, and jinyoung sees he isn't dressed for sleeping. he's wearing jeans and socks, and now he's stuffing his feet into a pair of sneakers. jinyoung watches calmly, a furrow of confusion etching itself into his brow because what the hell?

shin dongwoo glances at him (and here jinyoung thinks the guy might actually try to make a run for it, but he doesn't) before shrugging on a threadbare cardigan and bending to pick up a small saddle bag. only then does he face jinyoung, squaring his shoulders and breathing deeply.

"shall--shall we go?"

go where? jinyoung thinks stupidly, still stuck on the bag shin dongwoo was gripping with a shaky hand. he looks at the man, and then at the bag, and then--

oh.

jinyoung laughs. he's never laughed in so long--he's surprised he still knows how--but still he throws his head back and slaps at his thighs and laughs, laughs, laughs. this is going to be a hoot, surely this would beat woohyun's story of how his candidate had bumped into him at a club, drunk, and thought the Charon was trying to pick him up.

"is there anything funny?" shin dongwoo asks, and jinyoung sees the flicker of annoyance in the man's eyes, and he's driven into giggles again.

"you have a bag," jinyoung manages once he gets his breathing under control. "and you're wearing shoes!" this is all too funny.

"yes," the man says carefully. "is there something wrong?"

"nothing's wrong," jinyoung says solemnly, but then another wave of giggles overcome him and he holds up a hand while he tries to recover.

"it's. just. you have a bag. you have a bag, with actual things in it and you even dressed up. shoes and socks and all. where did you think we were going?"

now shin dongwoo looks confused. he adjusts his glasses and frowns. "you are the reaper, right?"

jinyoung rolls his eyes. "i prefer the term Charon, thank you very much. saying Reaper makes the whole thing sound gruesome. black robes and bones and scythes and things, all of which i don't have. at least Charon sounds calmer, right?"

shin dongwoo nods, although whether out of agreement or politeness, jinyoung doesn't know. either way, it doesn't matter. he's dead. or he will be, once jinyoung's done with him.

"but, how are we going to go?" the man asks, looking at jinyoung like he might have some transportation device on him.

"go?"

the man sighs, and jinyoung detects a hint of impatience. "yes. i'm going to die, right? you're going to kill me. but you don't have a scythe. you don't have anything, so. aren't you going to take me to the Underworld, kill me there?"

jinyoung stares at him. "are you on something?"

"no." shin dongwoo sounds highly offended. jinyoung nods. shin dongwoo, with his gentle eyes and calm demeanor, seems like an overly conscientious guy. the type who makes sure to eat enough of each food group at each meal, does exercises and takes his vitamins religiously. the type of guy who'd live a long, full life.

if it weren't for his faulty heart, that is.

jinyoung wants to shake his head at the irony of it. here's a reasonably good-looking guy who seems decent enough, about to die tonight. outside, there are people who have practically thrown their futures away--and yet they have years and years ahead of them.

jinyoung rouses himself from his thoughts. it did will not do any good, either to him or shin dongwoo. the man still has to die. unless...

he waves the thought away before it could take root. he couldn't-- he wouldn't. the end of shin dongwoo's life has come, and jinyoung will have to carry him to the Underworld.

he steps forward, closer and closer to the man, and jinyoung can see the fear that is beginning to blossom behind his eyes. he plants both hands on the man's either shoulders, tilting his face up to claim the man's last breath.

"what are you doing?" shin dongwoo steps back, sounding positively scandalized.

"i need to kiss you."

"wha--why?"

"because you need to die. i need to kiss you."

shin dongwoo just stares at him.

"what? i come here to see you prepared to meet me, eager to die and all that, even packing for it like it's a damn field trip and you shy away from a kiss?"

"i get that i'll die," the man says hastily, as though he's afraid he might offend him. "and really, i don't mind. but--why a kiss?"

"it's the death kiss. it's what i do, it's how i--we--claim lives. i kiss you. i take your last breath. you die. i carry your soul to the Underworld and you float in a merry little pool with other souls until Judgement."

"does it have to be a kiss?" the man's voice is verging on panic, and honestly jinyoung does not understand this. would he prefer the ludicrous urban legend of a dagger to carve his soul from his body?

"it's just a kiss," jinyoung says. "what are you scared of?" it's quite strange, that the man seems to be more stressed about a mere kiss than the whole idea of him dying. "just think of it as any other kiss. a last kiss."

the man flushes anew, not quite meeting his eyes and seeming to acquaint himself with his shoe laces instead.

"oh for--it's not like you haven't been kissed before..." and here jiyoung trails off, a thought budding in his mind.

"really?" he asks, incredulous. "you haven't--"

"i haven't," dongwoo cuts him off, quick and abrupt. even the tips of his ears have gone rosy.

jinyoung is overcome with the urge to laugh, but dongwoo probably wouldn't like that, so he just coughs against his hand. the guy had never been kissed. amazing.

he looks out the window. the early strings of morning light are just beginning to paint the sky. soon enough the morning star will rise. and then dongwoo's soul can remain safe, at least until the next nightfall.

"alright then, if you are so worried about it." jinyoung steps closer, his lips a hair's breadth from dongwoo's own. "i won't force you. good night, shin dongwoo. you have a few hours more. do me a favor and think about it, won't you? i'll be looking forward to a kiss from you."

he leans closer and touches his lips to the corner of dongwoo's mouth. the man crumples like a leaf, but jinyoung is ready, catching him and scopping him up in his arms just in time. they probably look comical--shin dongwoo is taller and wider, and he is a lot slimmer in comparison. he sets dongwoo on the bed, and as he does the door opens, revealing a woman who looks a lot like dongwoo, except older. his sister, perhaps. jinyoung uses his abilities to project a different scene, one of dongwoo in the middle of an attack, clutching at his chest and having trouble breathing.

dongwoo's parents are there a moment later, and then dongwoo is taken to the hospital. jinyoung follows, making himself visible log enough to settle the hospital and doctor's fees, leaving enough balance to cover for any expenses, then manipulates the family's minds again to make them think they had enough money left to pay for everything.

he slips into the ward, noting that most of the patients are already at the brink of death. he's lucky he didn't run into any Charons, or he'd have a lot of explaining to do. as it is, he watches dongwoo sleep, for a while, then heads out the hospital to go back to the Underworld.

stupid, jinyoung chastises himself as he lets himself down the Chasm and into the Underworld. the other Charons are just only starting to filter in, chatting amongst themselves. jinyoung clutches his briefcase tighter, one soul too light. he bristles. stupid. stupid, stupid fool.

the other Charons greet him as he reaches the bridge. jinyoung greets them back, but does not join in the banter, does not laugh in jest when sandeul tells the story of how he had hidden behind a bush for two hours because his Ward had a dog, a gigantic black monstrosity of a creature who kept barking at him. he does not shake his head and sigh when gongchan shares that one of his Wards was a little girl who had mistaken him for a doctor, who held up her arms because she thought he was going to make her sick go bye-bye, so she can play with her friends again. he just listens, and that's all right, because it's what he always does and it's what everyone else is used to.

they cross the bridge, and here jinyoung grips his briefcase closer, lining up alog with everyone else, behind the blonde-haired krystal and before the still-talking sandeul.

up ahead is the Collector, sitting in his little enclosed booth, similar to the ticketing booths he'd seen in the Upper. the Collector has been there since the beginning, way before jinyoung had become a Charon. he had been named so because of his job, to collect the souls the Charons bring back, and give them to the Keepers.

jinyoung hears groans and grumbles the closer he gets to the booth. behind him sandeul is (still) talking about his day, and how he only got six hundred ninety seven of the required one thousand, and aren't you lucky, jinyoung, to always manage to get everyone on your list?

jinyoung gives him a distracted nod, and then he's right in front of the Collector, surly and bad-tempered, demanding for him to give the damn case so we can all get a move on, i don't have eternity, and then chuckling at his own joke.

"busy night?" the man asks, softening his voice. jinyoung doesn't know what his real name is--none of them do, and word is that even the Collector himself has forgotten it. he's usually snappish with everyone else, but he's civil with jinyoung. sandeul claims it's because jinyoung always has the highest count, always turns in one thousand souls at the end of the day, like he should.

"the usual," he answers, and the briefcase is suddenly too heavy in his hands. he lifts it up the counter. the Collector is smiling as he reaches for the case (at least that's what jinyoung thinks, the Collector's eyes aren't narrowed into slits, at least and that's something) but then the smile freezes, turning into a frown as he gives the briefcase a little shake, and jinyoung is rooted to the spot.

"hmm...that's new." he squints at him, already small eyes shrinking further as the Collector studies him. "losing your touch, perhaps?"

"no," jinyoung snaps before he can help himself and the Collector raises an eyebrow before giving a low chuckle.

"no, of course not," the man readily agrees, taking jinyoung's briefcase and lining it up with the others. "i'm sure you'll get him tomorrow. if the Snatchers haven't--"

"they haven't."

"ah, then good. good. join the line."

jinyoung gives him a stiff nod, turning to join the the rest of the Charons. he moves to the very back of the group, leaning against the cavern wall. even in the shadows he feels the Collector's eyes on him, and for one crazy moment he wonders if he knows--but that's stupid. the Collector isn't allowed to go to the Upper, only the Charons are. and this might be the Underworld but there are rules, at times more strictly enforced than those on the surface. which brings to mind what he just did...

as a rule, Charons are to take lives, claim the souls of those whose time has ran out, reap them for Judgement. a Charon must take the person's soul before the morning star rises, else they'd be untouchable, gaining yet another day, which in turn is taken from the life on an infant born on that day. Charons maintain balance of the living and of the lives of each human.
a Charon must give them the death kiss, so as to take their souls and bring them to the Underworld.

of course, a Charon is not perfect. sometimes he doesn't get to his Ward in time. when that happens, the Ward might live another day, and then the Charon assigned to him will come back and take him. or the Snatchers might get to them first, and then things will get really interesting.

Snatchers are low-lifes. they appear in monstrous forms, with bodies similar to humans crossed with reptilian appendages, bony lizards with razor sharp teeth and eyes that see in the dark. they are so named because they don't take souls the way Charons do. instead they lure Charon's wards in the way of danger--a murderous thug, a speeding truck--Snatchers live for blood and gore, ripping souls from Wards and consuming them, for it's what they thrive on. a Charon is in a way, connected to his Ward, and that's what allows Charons to find them. having a soul's ward ripped means pain for the Charon--a strong, searing burn at their very core. no Charon would want to experience that, so they'll fight the Snatcher to take their Ward's soul back.

a Charon is meant to end lives, not give or extend them. and although he could easily give the excuse of not having reached his Ward before the mornng star rose, he would still have to claim him tomorrow, a thought that he finds no less appealing than having to face a Snatcher.

shin dongwoo is...interesting. jinyoung finds it intriguing, the fact that he remained soft in a world where everything aims to make people stone--cold, hard, calculating. he's rather charming too, and jinyoung thinks he would hate to see the glow in those pretty eyes die out.

he looks at the Collector's booth. a number of Charons are still lined up, an jinyoung knows it'll take a while for the count to be announced. he can already hear the whispers, wondering why jinyoung, the Charon who had always perfected his due Wards, was suddenly missing one. other Charons had low counts all the time (take sandeul for example, or gongchan, who was fairly new and is still trying to learn the ropes) but not jinyoung. never jinyoung.

he'd rather not be here for the carnage.

he pushes himself off the wall, skirting around the other Charons, heading for the back door. two Guards are stationed by the gate, and jinyoung nods at them in greeting. they grin back, happy to be recognized by one of the top tier Charons.

"busy night?" one of them asks. "aren't you going to rest?"

"i'd like to take a walk outside. sandeul missed about four hundred tonight."

"the dumb one," the other nods. "i often wonder how he's still a Charon. nice of you to look after his Wards though. i imagine he'd wet himself if he had to face a Snatcher."

jinyoung fixes him a steely glance and he shuts right up, mumbling aplogies. they both shift in their posts, making way for jinyoung to pass. just as he slips out he hears the Collector's bell toll, signaling that the last of the souls have been turned in. he winces and moves faster, taking the stairs two steps at a time.

they have more than a hundred entrances to the surface, but the one at the old national library is jinyoung's favorite. as jinyoung steps out of the Chasm and into the world of the living, he feels the shift--there are more colors, more scents, more of everything--someone once told him that the shift and what he feels in the human world is still a muted version of what living is like, and jinyoung likes it because it's the closest thing he can get.

"out so soon?" a gravelly voice asks behind him. he's smiling even before he turns around.

the Gatekeeper walks toward him, a man so old it should be amazing how he can still move around. the Gatekeeper grins, all gums and poorly spaced teeth. Gatekeepers man each entrance, making sure no wayward human or sneaky Snatcher can get into the Chasm.

"oh, ew. must you always greet me that way?"

jinyoung blinks and sungyeol smiles at him, this time a young man, still with all those gums but perfect teeth this time.

"such a prude, pretty boy," sungyeol teases. "why do you deny me of the only entertainment i have? you and sandeul are the only people who ever use this entrance."

"i wonder why," jinyoung mutters under his breath.

sungyeol doesn't even look the least bit offended, even though jinyoung's sure he heard that last remark. "they announced the count. you let one slip. first time, eh?"

"i did not get to him in time," jinyoung intones. "the morning star had risen. he was untouchable."

"hmm. like i said, first time. i always believed they could give you five million souls to take and you could do it and still have time to nap before collection time."

"you have too much faith in me, it's very humbling."

"you're being sarcastic, right?" sungyeol asks, canting his head.

"am i?" jinyoung asks blandly, smiling when sungyeol frowns. "i have to go. it was nice seeing you, sungyeol."

"pass by here again, yeah?" sungyeol calls as he walks away.

"sure," he says, and slips out the door.

shin dongwoo is in the hospital, recovering from a minor attack. his sister came up to check on him just in time to see him clutching at his chest. she called an ambulance, and they were able to stabilize his condition.

dongwoo woke up feeling groggy from all the medicine pumped into his system. he woke up to a sobbing trio of his mom and sister, and even though his dad just clapped his shoulder he could see his eyes were swollen. he feels guilty.

"i'm sorry," he says, slurring the words because his mouth still feels like cotton.

don't apologize, they tell him. we're so thankful, so thankful but dongwoo knows they're thinking of the bills, of doctor's fees and medicine and therapy costs and feels guilty all over again, so he closes his eyes and sleeps.

it's dark when he awakens. he's in a ward, because that's all they can afford, and his sister has gone to work, his dad went back to man the small restaurant they own, and his mother is at his side, dozing off, snoring softly. he knows she has her own concerns too, her own pains that she sets aside for him, and he is all the more guilty for it. it's at this times that he wishes he would just die...

with a jolt he remembers the reaper--the Charon. he'd come for him last night, a lanky specter dressed in shadows, with blonde hair and the palest of complexions. dongwoo had been prepared to die, but he didn't, and remembers how the Charon had laughed at him, mocking him for getting ready to meet his own demise. dongwoo's memory is a little hazy, just this side of cloudy, but tendrils of last night's events snag on the edges of his memory with blinding clarity.

such as:
the Charon was pretty, in a way both frail and strong. the lines of his face speak of frailty, of such delicateness as a rose petal, but his eyes are cold, piercing when they need to be.

such as:
he has a gentle voice. and he has a beautiful laugh, even though it was mocking, directed at him.

such as:
he held his face carefully, like dongwoo was something fragile and delicate--like he'd crumble at the slightest hint of pressure.

such as:
he let him live. he'd kissed the corner of dongwoo's mouth, oh so near but never actually touching his lips, and let him have another day.

"ah. he lives."

dongwoo turns so fast his neck cracks in protest and he winces. outside the window a man is looking in. the man gives him a wave and dongwoo waves back in stunned surprise before freezing because isn't the male ward on the fourth floor? the man laughs, loud against the sleepy silence and dongwoo struggles to sit up, wondering how no one is waking up after a laugh that loud.

the man lifts the window up, squeezing through the small opening like an agile cat, landing on the tiled floor with grace.

"w-who--"

the man holds a finger to his lips, and dongwoo obeys, swallowing his fear and letting the rest of the sentence trail away into silence. he steps out of the shadows, and dongwoo takes in the blond hair and sharp eyes, and recognition sinks in.

"it's you," he whispers, and the man gives him an impatient glance before snapping his fingers and everything goes still. literally. it's like everything has frozen, like the man hit a stop button and even the very air around them froze.

"now, you can talk."

dongwoo just blinks. the man waves his fingers, gesturing for him to speak. "how did you do that?"

"oh, you know. fucking with time and space is one of the perks of the job."

dongwoo winces at the swear word. the man only looks amused, but does not apologize. he steps closer, casting a curious look at his mother, and dongwoo has an urge to cover her, hide her from his sharp gaze. but the man merely shrugs and moves to his side.

the man's eyes rake over his face, and dongwoo squirms under the scrutiny. "you have a question," the man says. "i can see it in your eyes. go on, ask."

"what's your name?"

"jinyoung," comes the answer, carried on the still air.

"you were supposed to kill me. why didn't you?"

jinyoung's lips move, just a hint of a smile. "are," he corrects lightly. "i'm still supposed to. although i wouldn't use the term kill, it's too strong. i'm merely here to take your soul to the Underworld."

"so why didn't you?"

"because you were... intriguing. and amusing." a ghost of laughter is hiding behind the man's eyes. "what were you thinking, anyway, even packing for death like that?"

dongwoo frowns. "i read about it. that you--or your kind, i guess--take dead people to the Underworld."

"and you thought it was a trip you'd need to pack for?" the smile on jinyoung's lips was mocking, but his eyes were gentle.

"i don't know," dongwoo says. "i've never died before, obviously."

"no, you haven't," jinyoung agrees. "tell me though, why did you seem so eager to go?"

dongwoo doesn't answer, just fixes his eyes on his sleeping mother. he senses jinyoung's eyes on him.

"ah," the other man says after a while. "i see. you feel guilty, yes? for burdening them with your illness. you thought it would be best to just...die."

"don't mock me." he means to make the words threatening, but he only sounds tired.

"i don't mean to," is the reply. "i'm only trying to understand. so many on their deathbed wish to have one more minute, one more day, one more year. i have prolonged your hours, and yet you tell me you don't want it."

"i'm still sick," he says instead, because jinyoung is still waiting for an answer. "i'm still sick, and hospital bills only go higher. my parents...we don't have much. i hate seeing them worry about whether or not we could afford the next time i get an attack."

"so you want to die."

"no, of course i don't. i want to live. i want to finish college and get a job ad give my parents the life they deserve. but i can't. i can't and--"

"what if you can?"

"what?"

dongwoo looks up, and finds that jinyoung's eyes are on him.

"live," jinyoung says. "what if you can live?"

"what are you--"

"what if i take your soul with me? your body will die, naturally. but your soul will be alive. you can still move around, watch over your parents. it won't be the same as if you magically get cured. you wouldn't be able to do anything for them, but. but there will be no more hospital bills. no more sick son to take care of. you'd be gone, but you'll be here."

dongwoo feels scared, truly scared, since the first time he saw jinyoung. the idea it is appealing as it is horrifying. he wouldn't be a burden anymore, but he will still be around to see them. but then he'll be a ghost, a disembodied soul with no shell. he wouldn't be able to talk to his parents, wouldn't be able to hug his sister. where would he go? what would he do?

"how will you do it?" he asks instead.

"i need to kiss you. your soul needs to part from your body." without warning jinyoung leans forward, stopping barely a breath away. dongwoo is too stunned and too mesmerised to move away.

"what of it, shin dongwoo? will i be your first kiss?"

dongwoo stills. the man is giving him a chance to decide--die or live, it would be up to him. jinyoung smiles at him, wordlessly waiting for his answer. he looks down at those pink lips, wondering what it would be like...what it would feel like.

his first kiss.

maybe his last.