chapter one

THe wind brushing against my face brought back memories of a time,

probably a year or two ago. It was when P’Fah and I went to the beach

together.

Mid-October on Koh Kradad (which P’Fah had always spelt ‘Kradad’

until the day we arrived), a small, little-known island. It’s flat, like a

sheet of paper, without the hills that other islands have. But that’s not

where its name comes from; it used to be covered in paper trees, but

unfortunately, they’ve all been replaced by coconut trees.

There are over a hundred deer on the island, and that was one of the

reasons we went. P’Fah excitedly exclaimed, “It’s like Nara in the

middle of the sea! It would be crazy not to go!” Therefore, I inevitably

dedicated my limited vacation time to this tiny, nameless island with its

deer.

It’s not like it is here.

There, the seawater is clear and blue, just like the name “P’Fah”

(meaning sky). The sand is a soft yellow, clean and pristine. A large sun

shines at twilight. P’Fah tries to build a sandcastle, but the waves crash

over it, engulfing and destroying it every two minutes—a group of deer.

They were running after us, chaotic yet peaceful. There’s nothing quite

like it here, except for the wind that makes me feel like I’m about to

spread my wings and fly.

I’m about to take flight in a few minutes. Actually, I should have

started long ago, but that last glimmer of hesitation clings to my wings,

keeping me standing here, letting the wind whip my hair and shirt loose, gazing at the night sky, hoping to catch a bright star before

soaring. But all I see is the deepest, most profound shade of blue.

I know there are hundreds, thousands, millions, or even trillions of

stars up there, but this crazy city is so brightly lit that it sadly obscures

the natural beauty. Many times, I can’t help but feel annoyed, even

though I know this artificial light is a sign of life and death for many.

I thought I wouldn’t feel anything anymore, but in reality, fear is still

my constant companion. It seems they say that those who believe

nothing are already dead. Before, I had a million kinds of feelings and

emotions flooding and raging within me, overwhelming and pushing

me to where I am. And when I was certain that I no longer wanted this

world, those heavy burdens of emotion gradually loosened. Anxiety,

anger, loneliness, even sadness—everything I thought was cutting into

my flesh faded away.

I’m not afraid of regretting this decision. There’s nothing for me to

regret or be sorry about. Only those who have something in their hands

can feel that way, but I don’t. I only have myself, worthless, lacking the

strength even to force myself to breathe. Therefore, this fear is merely

the last remaining instinct of a living being.

When faced with a situation that conflicts with survival, the intelligent

tissue in my skull releases fear as a warning, using hesitation as a final

desperate attempt to hold me back. I still perceive it vividly, but

unfortunately, it doesn’t change anything.

I looked down. No one was walking by in front of my condo. Of course,

it was almost midnight; few people would be out and about. Even the

security guard was probably dozing off in his booth. That’s why I was

relatively confident that no one would get hurt because of me. It may be

chaotic, but whatever. It wasn’t something I wanted to care about

anymore. What happened after I died didn’t matter at all, I tried to tell

myself.

I took a deep breath, probably my fifth. Fear was making it hard for

me to breathe properly, so I shifted my gaze from the ground belowd looked straight ahead. In front of me was the rooftop of another

building across the street. It was an office building. I’d never really

noticed it before, and I figured it was too late to do so now.

Unless something catches my attention.

There’s someone standing on the rooftop. Someone I was sure could

never have been there, and that’s the same person who brought me to

where I am today.

“P’Fah.”

No way.

That’s not him.

“Jump.”

He was across the street, yet I could hear his voice clearly, a whisper

echoing in my ears. I even saw the slight, mocking twitch of his lips. He

seemed to pity me, knowing I wouldn’t dare jump, yet at the same time,

he waited expectantly, waiting for my body to plummet onto the

concrete below, limbs broken and disfigured, my brain a gruesome

mess. He was waiting for my soul and body to be completely severed.

This may be a sign.

My fear gradually diminished and vanished when I thought that.

“P’Fah, are you here to pick up Won?”

P’Fah didn’t answer, but smiled back. Although it wasn’t the same

smile I was used to, it miraculously calmed my heart.

“Jump.”

He repeated the same sentence, this time more clearly.

“What are you waiting for? Jump, now!”

I ooked at his face, tears welling up in my eyes, yet a wide, inexplicable

smile spread across my lips. I only knew that I wanted to smile, to smile

at him one last time as a human being with a physical body to be

touched, because after this, I would become dust, weightless matter,

without substance, and my name would slowly fade away with time.

But as for P’Fah and me, we will be together forever.

“Yes,” I replied softly, spreading my arms like a bird preparing to

spread its wings.

“Wait for me, Won.”

I closed my eyes and plunged from the top of the building, my heart

heavy with a sense of longing.

“No.”

I answered hesitantly, my eyes scanning the report on patients

scheduled for surgery tomorrow. My mind was divided into two

thoughts: work, of course, and the person on the other end of the line, a

matter I couldn’t ignore even though I knew it wasn’t very smart.

“No,” I said in a low, firm voice, slightly more assertive than before,

when the person on the other end started whining and refused to accept

my initial answer.

“Don’t be childish.”

[Why? Because I want you to go.]

I sighed wearily. I didn’t know how to define this man. Sometimes he

was as compliant as a stupid dog, while other times he was as difficult

and stubborn as a four-year-old who kept saying “why” and calling for

his mother.

“I know, and I’ve said it many times, I don’t want to go.”

[You cruel tofu!]

"This"

”

[Bad bastard]

“Phi Fah.”

The person whose name I called fell silent when I addressed him in a

serious tone, level four—almost the highest level. But I knew this

silence wasn’t because he felt guilty. That older man, though physically

imposing, didn’t feel guilty about whining at me like this anyway. He

was just silent, rolling his eyes and mumbling something in a way that

mocked my seriousness.

“If you roll your eyes too much, you might not be able to reverse the

process.”

[P’Fah didn’t roll his eyes.]

“You know, the other day a patient told me that he rolled his eyes at his

girlfriend behind her back and lied, saying he didn’t. Three days later,

he felt like someone—”

[Ouch! *Rolling, rolling, rolling* I just rolled it once!]

I couldn’t help but laugh. Cornering this guy wasn’t difficult at all. He

was the most terrified of ghosts I’ve ever known. Because of that,

anything and everything, just linking it to the supernatural, this

coward would spill the beans.

[What’s so funny? It’s not funny.] The voice on the other end sounded

irritated. Even though he knew I was intentionally teasing him, he still

cowered in fear every time. [P’Fah just wanted you to watch him play

soccer sometime. Is that asking too much?]

“It’s not much, but I don’t understand why they want him to go so

badly. He can’t play football, and he doesn’t even know how to watch

football.”

[I wanted you to go and sit and keep watch.]

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