even take a few minutes of grace to show her how much she’d come to mean to him. There wasn’t enough time to show her. Even if he lived another hundred years, there wouldn’t be enough time. So he pressed his lips against hers. Trying to push every part of his heart into the kiss. Trying to show her that even though his spirit would leave this earth, a part of him would stay here with her.
Before he was ready, he pulled away, turning to Sinhye.
“We’re going to cut your connection to that body,” Junu said. “If you try to hold on, I don’t know what it will do to either of you. But it won’t be punishing me anymore. I won’t be here to mourn him.”
Sinhye scowled, then nodded. “I’ll let go. I have no need to stay here any longer. The sansin is dead. You’ll be dead. I’m not afraid to move on.”
Junu wasn’t sure if he could truly trust Sinhye to keep her word here. But it was all he had and they didn’t have time to bicker over it. So he helped her sit up.
“I see it now,” Sinhye whispered into his ear.
“What do you see?” Junu asked.
She pulled back to study him with such intensity he wondered what she was searching for. “I see that what we had was not the love I thought.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to absorb her pain. “You’re willing to sacrifice everything for that girl. We pretended we’d sacrifice for each other. I would give up my immortal life and you’d give up your family. But really those were both things that didn’t matter enough to us. And we were fools for that. For so many things.”
Junu nodded at the truth of her words. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I loved you because you helped me forget how pathetic my life had become. And I held you up in front of my family like a trophy I had won. That was selfish of me.”
Sinhye’s internal conflict showed in the furrow of Jihoon’s brow, now so sweaty his hair stuck to his skin. “And I reveled in the fact that I was the only one who could make you happy. But I think I always knew it was because I was the only one you let make you happy.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m glad,” Sinhye said. “That now, in the end, we can be honest with each other.”
“I hope one day our souls can forgive each other, too.”
Sinhye nodded.
Junu turned to Somin and pulled out the knife she’d nestled in her waistband. “Aim for the heart like on the other dokkaebi. It’s the easiest way.”
“Easiest?” Somin choked out. “Nothing about this is easy. I can’t do this.”
When she took the knife, he placed his hands over hers like they were praying together. “I wish it didn’t have to be you. But there’s no one else.”
Tears fell silently down her cheeks. But her face was defiant, like she would burn down the whole world to get what she wanted. It was a look that first drew him to her. It was the look that had caused him to fall in love.
“Jihoon needs you,” he said. Somin took a deep breath, then nodded.
Junu held out his hands to Sinhye.
“Do it,” he said to Somin.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“You have to.”
Sinhye’s hands tightened around Junu’s. Her eyes rolled back, and her body convulsed. Her whole form stiffened as she shook.
“Do it,” Junu said as he caught Sinhye’s thrashing body in his arms. “Somin, do it.”
He heard her sob behind him. He felt the tip of the blade between his shoulder blades. He closed his eyes. He held tight to Sinhye.
The blade pierced his skin. He bit his lip to hold in a scream.
Go faster, he thought. End it before I beg you to stop. He wanted to be noble. To have a brave ending. He’d lived a messy, cowardly life. He’d lived a selfish life. And he knew he would never be able to erase the centuries of shame. But at least he could commit one act of bravery. One selfless thing as a final punctuation to his shameful life. And at least he could die knowing that he wasn’t completely beyond the bounds of redemption. That there was still a part of him that could love and be loved.
His whole body shuddered, his teeth chattering so violently that he thought he would bite off his own tongue.