The lone pendant light swayed and cast a shadow on the face of a woman in her late forties. For a fleeting moment, her reflection on the one-way mirror showed the monster that she was instead of the smokescreen of a faultlessly timid housewife that she was putting up ever since they invited her for questioning. Luckily, the experienced investigator who sat in front of her was never the gullible type.
“So you believe that your husband drugged himself to death, huh?” Yang Kyung Won concluded without attempting to hide his sarcasm. “Am I correct, Mrs. Hwang?”
“Yes,” the woman he called Mrs. Hwang agreed calmly.
“And he injected the toxin himself in his right arm.”
“Yes.”
“Your husband is amazing then,” he noted, with a dry chuckle, earning a confused look from Mrs. Hwang.
He casually leaned back on the steel folding chair and crossed his arms before he clarified it for her benefit.
“Well, for a right-handed person to accurately give himself a shot of the poison with his left and not miss a vein” – he raised a challenging brow, causing her mouth to twitch ever so slightly – “that really is a feat.”
Mrs. Hwang’s hand flew on her chest, clutching the thick brown scarf that was wrapped around her neck as if she was greatly offended.
“My husband died and I haven’t even had an opportunity to properly mourn since you summoned me here like a murderer,” she spat through trembling lips. “I’ve been telling you so many times already that I don't know what happened to my husband. I drank so much at the party that I couldn’t even remember how I got myself to bed that night.”
Right before she finished talking, the door behind Kyung Won opened and a tall man emerged, holding a thin manila folder in his hand and sauntering towards the table with an unmistakable sense of superiority. He stared down at her through that high and sculpted nose, his face unperturbed in spite of the intimidating frown that seemed to be plastered permanently on his lips.
“This is the comprehensive report stating the cause of death of Hwang Tae Min, including the photos from the scene of the crime, the laboratory tests, et cetera,” Kim Tae Pyung detailed as he pushed the papers to Mrs. Hwang, his voice extremely lethargic to a point that she expected him to yawn out of boredom before he could even finish his sentence. “Apparently, cyanide played a huge role in his demise.”
He took a seat next to Kyung Won with finesse, crossing his legs and perching both elbows on top of the armrests so that his interlaced fingers are touching his chin.
“Coincidentally, your staff in the jewelry store told us that they have noticed the bottles of cyanide you insisted to purchase for cleaning gold and silver went missing a day before your husband’s death,” he continued. “Any thoughts on that matter?”
Mrs. Hwang shrugged as if he stated something obvious, a smug smile threatening to break her thin lips.
“Probably coincidental, like you mentioned.”
She stretched her arms forward and placed her clasped hands on top of the table, then tilted her head curiously to the right, eyebrows knotting together in superficial mystification.
“I wonder, officers, if there’s anything in your possession that might disprove my claim because you are a little too keen to paint a picture of me as the bad person here,” Mrs. Hwang noted with measured composure, her eyes alternately flicking from Tae Pyung and Kyung Won. “From what I heard, you haven’t gotten anything aside from the autopsy results. No fingerprints, no footages, not even a discarded syringe… nothing.”
“Running on biased speculation, aren’t we?” she challenged them before tutting loudly, shedding the façade she endeavored to uphold in the past hour. “The results are going to be disappointing if you keep that up.”
In spite of her taunting, Kyung Won smirked and replied, “My gutfeel tells me that you’re wrong.”
Mrs. Hwang let out a musical laugh and for a second there, the insane woman that she truly was manifested.
“I’m sorry,” she offered as she tried to catch her breath. “I couldn’t help but find this situation oddly amusing. Nonetheless, suit yourself, Officer Yang. I am very excited to see how this ends. Until then, please stop wasting my time. I have a wake to attend to, in case you have forgotten.”
Mrs. Hwang was escorted out of the interrogation room shortly after and the pretense was up in full display as soon as she stepped out to the bright office. She quickly gave the officers empty words of thanks and bowed before walking out of the Violent Crimes department, her departure making Kyung Won grit his teeth in frustration.
“Choose your battles, buddy,” Tae Pyung mildly chided him as they conversed privately in a deserted hallway a quarter of an hour later. “One wrong move and we’ll be at a dead end here.”
“I am positive that it’s her,” Kyung Won maintained with contempt. “Haven’t you pieced everything together?”
“I have.”
“Then why did you let her get off the hook that easily?”
Tae Pyung squeezed his eyes shut to think of an adequate justification, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if on reflex. He wanted to explain to his most trusted ally that if they did not permit Mrs. Hwang to leave the premises at that exact moment, she would not be able to reach the intersection at the 53rd Street at 11:51 am. If she were a second late, her car would have had to halt when the light turned red, thereby forcing the bus behind it to follow suit when it should have crossed the intersection and dropped off five passengers a minute after. The public vehicle in question had to depart the waiting area 44 seconds later, or else it would be in the same path as the truck with a cement mixer which was being driven by a man in his mid-fifties who was leisurely singing to the radio, consequently delaying them by a few minutes. The odds that the slowdown would cause a man named Jeong Ji Suk to fall asleep and miss his stop were high, yet these holdups should not happen as the man was required to be at the university gates at 12:27 pm in order for him to meet Park Mi Young. They were destined to marry right after college and six years later, she would give birth to a boy named Jeong Jin Young. If all things transpired as designed, he will grow up to be a very promising scientist who eventually would be successful in formulating the vaccine for an epidemic that plagued the continent for ten years in the winter of 2056.
Instead, Tae Pyung shook his head and said, “She had a solid alibi and we are lacking evidence.”
“She had to motive to kill the man,” Kyung Won countered. “We have witnesses saying that she was obsessed with her husband – not to mention the hearsay that in their ten years of marriage, there were several occasions when Hwang Tae Min woke up with either a knife pointed to his throat or a pillow covering his face.”
“I know that,” Tae Pyung agreed. “But we cannot afford to be careless here. If we want her locked up for good, we have to acquire enough proof that she was indeed behind everything aside from a hunch and some rumors.”
“I get that, alright?” Kyung Won grumbled. “What I don’t understand is how you left me on my own a while ago.”
“What?”
“Admit it, Tae Pyung. You weren’t interested in pushing her to confess. It was as if you sat there for the sake of getting the process done and over with.”
“Kyung Won, listen to me –”
“Forget it,” Kyung Won cut him off, evidently upset at the lack of support from his lifelong friend. “If you think that disproving that woman’s innocence is a moot point, then I guess I have to carry out the investigation on my own.”
Before Tae Pyung could even say something to pacify him, Kyung Won stormed out of the corridor without looking back. Resigned, he leaned on the wall behind him and allowed his comrade’s words to sink in.
Eon Jin was right, he thought. Things are bound to change.
“If being a mortal vessel means that the god has imparted a wisdom that enables you to comprehend things on a higher level – something beyond what my human mind could grasp – then it will alter you,” he recalled Eon Jin telling him as he drove her home the day that their fates took a crucial turn.
“It won’t,” Tae Pyung insisted.
“It will,” she refuted. “My experience might be feeble compared to what you are preordained to go through, yet the results would most likely be similar.”
“Omniscience will enlighten you to an extent that your mind will be at peace with all of the good and bad things that Fate plotted out,” she elaborated. “Imagine standing in front of a man who was bludgeoned to death by a serial killer and knowing for certain that it had to occur. Do you think you would still show sympathy towards him?”
Tae Pyung turned the question over in his head, his jaw clenching as he struggled to say ‘yes’ when his mind was dictating otherwise.
“You would not,” Eon Jin answered on his behalf. “You would no longer feel that way because you are aware that his misfortune had to take place in order for other significant events to unfold.”
“A long time ago, you asked me how I could bear witnessing people die. I remember saying that since I understood early on that I existed to ensure that everything happens in accordance to the grand plan, I had no choice other than to watch idly on the sidelines,” she reminded him. “Little by little, accepting my purpose caused me to lose touch with my emotions. What more if I had the same sapience the deity gifted you with?”
Neither of them spoke another word after, even as they arrived at the basement parking of Eon Jin’s building. He leaned over to kiss her, but she immediately stiffened and almost pulled away. It was then that he came to realize that in spite of their close proximity inside the confines of the vehicle, she was undeniably slipping away from him.
“Don’t do this to us, love,” Tae Pyung pleaded in a soft murmur.
Eon Jin chewed on her lip, contemplating whether or not to be straightforward with him before speaking.
“‘Love’,” she mumbled bitterly as she averted his gaze. “No longer the ‘mistress’, huh?”
Tae Pyung sighed and closed his eyes in defeat, then said, “That was –”
“A slip of the tongue?”
“That meant nothing, I promise.”
It took all of the remaining strength in Eon Jin for her to face him that she actually had to seize a fistful of the thick fabric of her coat to keep herself from falling apart.
“That one word spelled out the difference for me, Kim Tae Pyung,” she managed to breathe out.
Already at his wit’s end, he locked his arms around her, hoping against all hope that his embrace was enough assurance for her to stay by his side.
“The only constant thing in this volatile world of mine right now is you, Eon Jin,” Tae Pyung told her softly. “Please believe me.”
The tightening in her throat was starting to become too much for her that she even had to cover her mouth as she gasped for air.
“I have to go,” her voice broke the second she eased away from him to unbuckle her seatbelt, blinking away the tears that threatened to gush out of her eyes if she spent another minute near him.
With those few words, Eon Jin vanished from Tae Pyung’s life.
Six weeks passed without any call or text from her and he made a pitiful routine of visiting the shop and going to her house every single day just to be greeted by her absence.
“She mentioned she’ll be going on a vacation, sir,” Han Jae Yi informed Tae Pyung on the first day of his fruitless search.
“Did she tell you where she was going?” he inquired, suppressing the tension that was building up in his chest and being extra cautious not to imply that something was wrong in order for him to get as many details from Eon Jin’s staff as possible.
Han Jae Yi shook her head, then said, “She only checks on us from time to time via phone.”
Much to his dismay, Tae Pyung discerned that the young woman was not lying.
Desperate, he turned to his last resort.
“I apologize but I do not know where she is, Officer Kim,” Gong Hyo Jin replied when Tae Pyung asked her one evening after they wrapped up an assignment a week after he last saw Eon Jin. “We have not been in touch for quite a while now.”
He nodded in acknowledgment, crestfallen.
“Perhaps it would be difficult for you to trust me on this since I am her sole confidant. However, I really have no idea on her current whereabouts,” she added. “It was as if she had no intentions of being found.”
Indeed, Eon Jin deliberately left without a trace and headed back to her hometown in the countryside. She knew that she was a coward for taking flight, yet everything proved to be too difficult for her – from the fact that she was again a human to her apprehensions after Tae Pyung assumed his role to be Fate’s mortal vessel.
“Did he buy into your excuse?” she posed her question reluctantly to Hyo Jin when the latter visited her an afternoon during the fifth week of winter, ashamed to meet the grim reaper’s eyes.
They were sitting closely at the edge of the wooden floor of the hanok Eon Jin was lodging in, each holding a small yunomi filled with freshly brewed tea to keep their hands toasty.
“I think so,” Hyo Jin shrugged. “Since he did not press for more information, I assume that he was convinced I was being honest with him.”
Her friend’s aloofness was not lost on Eon Jin and guilt began to wash over her a couple of seconds later.
“I am sorry for making you lie, Hyo Jin,” she offered.
“The least that you could do is to help me understand why you decided to leave,” the grim reaper boss demanded as she threw her a piercing sidelong stare.
Eon Jin took a deep breath before she confronted the truths that were recently keeping her up at night.
“Life after being the mistress scares me,” she admitted. “For all I know, my story ended more than three centuries ago. Nevertheless, here I am, thrusted back into the world of the living in a timeline I do not belong to.”
“I wish it was that simple, picking up where I left off even if that was three hundred and eighteen years ago and moving on as if nothing happened,” she explained. “Who knew that returning to my innate state was far more complicated than I thought it would be?”
“It was as if I was reliving that moment right after Fate changed me,” she mused as melancholia etched deeply on her face. “It was as if I was back to being that lost and lonely soul who was required to submit unconditionally to the god’s bidding.”
“You do not need to go through it by yourself now, silly,” Hyo Jin scolded her. “You have me; you have Kim Tae Pyung.”
Eon Jin turned to the side and faced her comrade, forcing a halfhearted smile that did not even make the corners of her eyes crinkle.
“I always knew I could count on you,” she told Hyo Jin. “Unfortunately, Kim Tae Pyung is an entirely different story.”
“You are underestimating him.”
“Am I?”
“Kim Tae Pyung is tougher than you are giving him credit for, Eon Jin,” Hyo Jin groaned. “Can’t you have a little faith in him?”
Eon Jin placed the lukewarm cup beside her and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly like a petrified kid would and rested her chin on her forearms as she pondered on her response.
“Frankly, I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” she murmured. “It terrifies me to imagine where the knowledge imparted by Fate could take him. You saw how being the servant of the powers that be transformed me into an empty shell.”
“Is that what truly frightens you?” Hyo Jin asked. “Or are you afraid that his newfound sage way of thinking would cause him to realize that you are an insignificant piece in his cosmos?”
“That too,” Eon Jin confessed.
“Well, I believe that it’s something you have to come to terms on your own,” Hyo Jin asserted with a bit of nonchalance.
“Kim Tae Pyung accepted the path Fate drew for him primarily because he wanted you to be free from the task the deity burdened you with. It was not as if he volunteered and signed up for the role,” she reminded Eon Jin. “He probably was confident that nothing can ever put that special connection between you and him in jeopardy that was why he did not have any second thoughts.”
“Do you think it is fair that you doubt the only thing he has always been fighting for?” her sentence sounded more like a challenge than a question.
Eon Jin failed to come up with an answer other than hiding her face in her arms.
“There you go,” Hyo Jin commented with a tiny smirk.
“For your information, I am letting this pass because being human all of a sudden might have clouded your judgment,” she teased. “Nonetheless, I expect that you would revert to the status quo from here forward.”
“You would most likely be disappointed,” Eon Jin mumbled.
“The Son Eon Jin I had the pleasure of knowing is a force to be reckoned with. Her heart and her mind are not easily swayed. She does not falter even in the middle of a turbulent storm,” Hyo Jin said after careful consideration. “I am sure that she will pull through no matter what life throws at her.”
Slowly, Eon Jin lifted her head and saw that Hyo Jin was observing her through the corners of her astute eyes, the warmth in the smug smile of the usually cool woman drastically melting her heart.
“Do me a favor and be transparent with Kim Tae Pyung, will you?” Hyo Jin mock-reproached her. “The poor immortal looked like he badly needed a break when I last saw him.”
“Sure, Hyo Jin, sure,” Eon Jin acquiesced as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
Moments after, Hyo Jin stood up and thanked Eon Jin for the tea. Deducing that it was possibly an assignment, she wordlessly walked the grim reaper to the traditional house’s impressive doorway.
“Thank you for being my sounding board,” Eon Jin told Hyo Jin before they parted ways.
“You are very much welcome,” Hyo Jin acknowledged. “Thank you for the afternoon drink and for allowing me to knock some sense into that stubborn brain of yours.”
They let out a carefree snicker at the same time, the coincidence making them laugh more fervently as if they were back to the old days, as if nothing changed.
“Thank you for not calling my name thrice tonight,” Eon Jin said after the humor died down, gratitude seeping in every word she stated.
In an instant, Hyo Jin’s face was blanched by the reality she was denying for some time ever since that fateful morning when Death notified her of Fate’s consciousness dawning upon Kim Tae Pyung. Although she was certain that Eon Jin would be able to figure it out, she was taken aback all the same by the truth that the person she worked closely with in all those years turned into a missing soul she was responsible of summoning.
“I will not give you a hard time when my time comes, I promise,” Eon Jin jested in a futile attempt to diffuse the air between them.
"But not anytime soon, please," she subtly implored the mythical entity in front of her.
Hyo Jin nodded as she struggled to retain a firm rein on her emotions, then simply told Eon Jin, “You better keep your word, then.”
Back at the station on the day of the disastrous interrogation of Mrs. Hwang, Tae Pyung stayed behind, busying himself with paperworks in his office even after the last person in their department clocked out.
Out of the blue, he heard a knock at his door.
“Stop pretending to be occupied with those documents and meet me at the pojangmacha in the back alley,” Kyung Won snorted, then hurriedly walked away with heavy steps.
They buried the hatchet an hour later – soju, odeng, and anju equally playing an important role in resolving their conflict – with Kyung Won presuming that his friend’s lack of interest in the case was due to another lover’s quarrel. Tae Pyung tolerated his guess since there was a tiniest bit of veracity in it anyway. Nevertheless, he latched on an ephemeral sense of remorse that brewed inside him, clinging to the remaining fragments of his humanity and reminding himself to be more considerate of the people who mattered to him next time.
Tae Pyung did not go home after they called it a night. Instead, he wandered aimlessly on foot on that unforgiving winter evening, passing by the places that held memories of Eon Jin and ending his journey on that bridge where she saved him.
“Fancy seeing you here, god of Fate,” a small voice pulled him out of his reverie.
“I would rather be called Kim Tae Pyung,” he sighed.
“Seriously though, what is wrong with being addressed properly?”
“Not everyone is comfortable with it, Death.”
The eight year-old rested his back on the railing, then fished a lollipop out of the pocket of his pants.
“Now that the deity’s wisdom dwells in your mind and she has returned to her own realm, you are – by all means – Fate,” Death rambled on as he fidgeted with the wrapper. “For how long are you going to dismiss that fact?”
“For as long as I can,” Tae Pyung responded tersely.
The seemingly puny god stuck the treat into his mouth, shoving it to the space between his teeth and his cheeks with his tongue so that he could continue to speak while drawing the sweetness of the candy.
“Suit yourself, then,” he shrugged.
A little while later, Death probed, “Why are you sulking here when you could use everything in your power to find her?”
Tae Pyung almost replied, but the youthful immortal found the answer to his own question straightaway.
“Ahh... You lack perspective of her present and her past because a missing soul does not have a charted course,” the child thought to himself.
“Have you tried asking around?” Death threw his follow-up question right away.
“I did, yet I never got anything substantial from Gong Hyo Jin,” Tae Pyung admitted. “Her loyalty to Eon Jin is commendably steadfast.”
“You are barking up at the wrong tree, amigo,” Death sneered.
“Whose assistance should I beseech, then?” Tae Pyung murmured, dispirited and, at the same time, kind of impatient.
“Mine, of course!” the boy exclaimed. “Although begging is completely unnecessary, in my opinion.”
Tae Pyung stared at the minuscule deity before asking, “What would you demand in return?”
“Nothing,” Death brushed off his qualms with sheer insouciance. “Consider it as my apology for starting off with the wrong foot.”
“Where is Son Eon Jin?”
“She is on her way home.”
The bright lights of the living room came to life the moment Eon Jin opened the front door and at once, she was welcomed by the faint scent of withered flowers and leaves. The house was exactly the way she left it: the book she was reading more than a month ago lay neglected on the taupe chaise lounge that faced the enormous window, the blanket she shared with Tae Pyung when they cuddled before bedtime folded neatly at the far end of the couch, the shirt he wore the last time he slept over draped on the armrests of the plush chair of her vanity.
Exhausted in more ways than one, Eon Jin crawled on the soft mattress and curled herself to a ball on her side, pulling the comforter over her head as she lulled herself to slumber.
She was roused an hour later by a pair of lean but sinewy arms drawing her closer to that familiar warmth she miserably yearned for in all those weeks of hiding, leaving her with no choice but to burrow her nose in his chest and allow the fragrance of mint and pine fill the hollow spaces of her fractured soul.
“Go back to sleep, love,” she heard Tae Pyung whisper in her ear before darkness took over her consciousness once more.
It was past eight in the morning when Eon Jin opened her eyes again. When she didn’t find Tae Pyung beside her, she pushed herself off the bed, searching for any signs to verify that last night was not a dream.
“Kim Tae Pyung,” she called out in a frail voice the instant she stepped out of her room.
“I’m here,” he said as he held her fragile shoulders in his hands from behind, turning her to face him.
Tears mercilessly flowed from Eon Jin’s eyes the moment she saw Tae Pyung, not at all caring if her nose was getting clogged up or if her hiccups made her seem like a bawling child. Regardless, he swiftly wrapped his arms around her and repeatedly ran his hand over her head in soothing motions.
“What’s wrong?” Tae Pyung gently asked as he calmed her down.
“I am sorry for running away,” Eon Jin managed to utter in between sobs. “I am sorry for not trusting you.”
“That’s alright,” he cooed. “Did the time away from me help?”
Eon Jin shook her head without hesitation, causing Tae Pyung to snicker in spite of himself.
“I thought so,” he noted with a smirk before kissing the top of her head.
Taking Hyo Jin’s advice, Eon Jin talked to Tae Pyung about her fears while he nestled her snugly beside him on the couch all morning. He was patient as always, listening to her as she spoke and assuring her right after.
“In time, I might become inattentive of my feelings with other people, but never with you,” he promised.
“Is it because you cannot predict the path I would choose?” she asked.
“Partly due to that, candidly speaking,” Tae Pyung surmised. “Most importantly, because it’s you.”
“How come?”
“The rationale behind it is meant to be felt – not analyzed.”
Eon Jin willed herself to look up at him, prompting him to tilt his face slightly downwards and hold her gaze.
“I am scared that one day, I shall diminish to become merely a trivial fragment of your history, Tae Pyung,” she sighed.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Then tell me – where do I fit in your universe now?”
Tae Pyung cradled the delicate curve of her face in his hand, then tenderly caressed her cheekbones with his thumb as he mulled over how he should appease her misgivings.
He wanted to let her know that she was his beginning and end, that she was the anchor that kept him in tune with whatever was left in his humanity, that she was the sole reason for his humble existence and the incessant beating of his heart.
Nonetheless, he did the only thing that he believed would make her fully fathom what she meant to him.
He brushed his lips over her fluttering eyes, the tip of her nose, and the corners of her mouth as if he was seeking for something. Then, without warning, he captured her in a kiss that spoke of adoration and craving, of affections and desires, of contentment and greed.
Tae Pyung briefly broke away from her spell to answer her question.
“Your rightful place in perpetuity is by my side, love… as my wife.”
Because she was either thunderstruck or merely a fool, Eon Jin did not move. Instead, she stared into Tae Pyung’s eyes as if the smoldering golden flecks in them held any clue that might help her decode what he just said.
When she did not reply after a minute, Tae Pyung posed the proposition that was more than three hundred years in the making.
“Will you marry me, Son Eon Jin?”
Eon Jin bit her lip as she suppressed the fresh wave of tears that fought to surge from the pit of her being, reciting his question in her head over and over as if his words would lose authenticity the moment it ceased to echo in her mind.
For a long time, she was convinced that she did not deserve any form of happiness and her reluctance almost compelled her to retreat. Moreover, she realized that ultimately, the higher powers may not approve of this union. After all, she spent centuries nurturing a burning resentment towards the deities and was not at all repentant for it.
However, it was Kim Tae Pyung who was requesting for her hand in marriage and she was sure that even if the heavens smote her with lightning and hail for her self-indulgence, she would more than willingly give anything that his heart coveted in a snap of his fingers.
At last, Eon Jin beamed at Tae Pyung with those half-moon eyes and uttered a response that was almost behind schedule.
“In any lifetime and in any realm, know that I would always say ‘yes’.”
—
Photo by Fabrizio Verrecchia on Unsplash