III
She can smell blood. Taste it too, it's metallic tint washing over her tongue and when she holds her trembling hands up in front of her, she can see it. See it trickling down her palms and then her forearms, gathering in a spike at her elbow and dripping to the floor with the sound of rain pitter-pattering on a roof and it feels just as frequent too. Then she hears the screaming and suddenly the blood is gone from her hands. What point of time is she in? Moments before or years later? She can't decipher her surroundings, phasing into different settings as soon as she thinks she recognises one or blurring when her eyes begin to focus. The shrilling is intense and are surely shredding an unknown someone's vocal cords and they're screaming at her and her approaching blood-less hands and her presence is alone unsettling but her actions are the ones warranting fear. Now her hands are over someone's mouth. There's no transition- they just are. She can feel the heat of their breath against her palms dampened with vapour and the screams are muffled or non-existent at all, it's difficult to tell when all she can hear is a ringing in her ears which throbs achingly in time with her booming heartbeat. Their eyes are blood-shot and glazed over with tears as they dart back and forth as if looking for salvation, looking for a way out. A flash glimpses through her fogged vision, a reflection from glass? A blade? Her stomach twists sickeningly as her hand moves and it feels like she's pushing a sharp object through a starchy pillow and now, there's blood again and her vision is obfuscating her red-stained skin and the ringing is louder than ever and the screams rallying-
Seulgi wakes up with a start, barely repressing the yelp that's already half-way out of her throat when she sits up. She's in a cold sweat, goosebumps pricking up all along her arms whilst her chest heaves in uneven breaths that, neither physically nor mentally, seem to steady her. Her clothes feel damp, sticking to her like wet tissue paper and some of her hair clings to her forehead which wiping gives to no avail. The first thing she wants to do is tear off her blanket and yet she's frozen- more so from shock and horror than fear. These nightmares have been plaguing her as long as she can remember and yet they are progressively worsening each time- like the incomprehensible visions she sees are becoming stiller, more focused, almost tangible. At this, she hastily wipes her wet hands on her clothed thighs; it's her own sweat but her reaction might as well make it the same blood she thought she could feel.
Not even a warming shower can erase the bone-chilling strain which makes her acutely aware of the goosebumps along her arms brushing up against her sleeves. The only thing that stills the stormy sea rocking the boat of her mind is recalling the odd moment of peace her and an angel had shared. Irene had been consuming a lot of her time recently: whether she was trying to salvage an expensive wine-stained article of clothing, scuffling with her in a bathroom, or sitting upon a hilltop in silence, the unusual woman had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and usurped the more important things on her jammed schedule. She elicited a curiosity in Seulgi that she hadn't felt in a long time; getting drunk on the job and being usually very distant was one thing, but whenever she thought she pinned her as an anxious girl, Irene would do something to avert all her expectations again. Alas, she had retreated back to heaven and it was unlikely they'd ever cross paths again for so many reasons that Seulgi doesn't really have the mind to list at the moment.
Being Satan's second command grew boring after time passed. Mostly she supervised meetings and simply relayed information back and forth for the 'big man himself'. She's almost grateful that she's been assigned to take up some grunt work in the form of guarding. It's been a long time since she'd done this; long enough that the memories of it have started to blur and merge into timelines she isn't quite sure actually happened. Earth was unkind to her. She tells herself time and time again, that it was nobody's fault but her own. It's what everybody else said and so, naturally, she believed them.
Stepping back onto Earth's ground is always unusual; before she had died it felt like she could never get away from everyone but now, being from the land of the dead (and the damned at that) meant that nobody alive could see her, not even sense her. Albeit they were affected by her; the act of being a 'guardian angel' or the lesser-known 'guardian devil' is one of balance. One's presence would have a natural influence on a human's actions. A human with only a devil attending would incline to perform bad deeds and vice versa, so the two opposing sides appear to maintain neutrality and, ultimately, push for one's own morals to be the biggest factor in their actions. On this idea, one could argue that there is no need for guarding at all but many, if not most humans, possess a natural preference of evil and, to combat this, guardian angels were introduced but their presence was deemed too intrusive, and so, guardian devils were instigated.
Seulgi's standing outside of a quaint coffee shop somewhere in downtown Seoul. It's yellowed appearance sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the bright, modern and neon lights lining the buildings surrounding it. It was a break for the eyes, the front of it consisting mostly of glass panes that provided a look to the inside. Customers talk animately in conversations she's not privy to and probably wouldn't care for anyway. The silence encompassing her outside is only stirred by the swinging of a dated sign and the general bustle of the city- it makes those inside look like mimes.
Upon opening the door, she's hit with waves of senses, the first of which is the noise. A sea of low murmurs, the sound of when a large group of voices merges into one continuous hum which occasionally lowers in volume when the din caused by staff busying themselves behind the counter clatters too much. The intense smell of coffee is the next thing she notices, it's overwhelming scent causing her shoulders to heave and push back when she takes a deep breath of it. It's relaxing and familiar and it almost feels like if she approached the counter lined with delicacies powdered with sugar and currants, they'd gleefully look up from the tills and take her order. One of the walls is compiled of small bricks unevenly spaced and jutting out of the otherwise flat surface and Seulgi scrunches her nose looking at it; it would hurt to crash into that. She can see cocoa powder gathering at the bottom of people's glasses of hot chocolate in a viscous form that wobbles when they bring it up and tilt it to their lips and it reminds her of the small things she misses in life- the sweet things.
Eventually, she tears her gaze away from the eccentric decor which she would much rather take in with a steaming cup of coffee because there's an impatient woman standing over another who is hunched over her table, two hands firmly secure around a cup of hot chocolate which she blows at occasionally. Her hair is long and a deep shade of brown with tips dyed blonde that sway dangerously close to the liquid tottering so very close to the point of overflowing (Seulgi can already make out the light brown trails on the white ceramic which point to that this has already happened). Her eyes are big and wide and her cheeks are full; she's young- likely in college and, most of all, she's human. She must be Yeri. The devil thinks that maybe if her bleach-tipped hair were to dip into her drink it would become the same colour as the rest of it but before she can snicker at the thought, her eyes are drawn to the woman above her who's inescapable impatience is clearly brewing.
"You're late." She says when Seulgi reaches the chair opposite Yeri who doesn't apologise; the woman always did like to trace the line where the boundaries of her authority waver.
"But you're Sooyoung-- the 'great Joy', no?" Seulgi answers, her previously fascinated expression fades into her usual facade. "It seems like you handled the few extra minutes well."
"Of course I did," Sooyoung retorts stiffly, her softly-shaped eyes not meeting Seulgi's. "Doesn't mean I enjoyed them."
"Mm," Seulgi brushes off her tiresome and spiritless complaints. "Well, I'm here now, am I not?"
"Yeah- you are," Joy says it with a quizzical tone, regarding her with what seems like caution. Sooyoung is quite a bit taller than the horned woman with hair the length to match; she's bored easily and irritated more often than she's bored but they tolerate one another's presence. Mostly. "Fancy you doing the same work as me."
"Yeah, don't sound so pleased about it," Seulgi replies curtly, her top lip curling as if she had forgotten that she didn't actually come here for a catch-up and a coffee like she so wished. "I wouldn't have chosen to be here."
"I get the feeling you'll take those words back soon." Joy responds cryptically, flashing a vague smile afterward.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Seulgi cocks an eyebrow, giving another scan to her surroundings, trying to track wherever Sooyoung's gaze is resting- a target which she eventually gives up attempting to locate.
"Nothing, I just think you'll grow to like it," The taller devil shrugs and Seulgi doesn't entirely believe what she just said. Her hands rest on the back of Yeri's chair who doesn't react in the slightest. "There are rumours spreading you know."
"About who? What?"
"About you."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you and some hornless girl," Joy says as if she isn't too sure of the words she's reciting either, possessing no idea that the sentence had made Seulgi's stomach lurch violently. Her eyes narrow, as if she knows more than she's letting on. "And absolutely nobody I've asked recognised her."
"Is that so?" Seulgi replies like the rumours are news to her. The space between her neck and her collar is feeling a little too hot right now but she resists the nerve to tug it away from her. Instead, she lifts her arm and ensures that her hair has fallen around her horns correctly, the movement shifting her clothing in a way that provided her with a little relief. She was unsure as to why she was so nervous; her and the angel never engaged in any activities other than a chat. And a fight. Other than that, she had left. Perhaps it was bad enough that'd she had let Irene go. "How unusual."
"Yeah, it is really odd. Especially since I asked a lot of people."
"Did it ever cross your mind that the majority of people wouldn't have seen anything at all?"
"Ah! So you're admitting it?" Sooyoung rounds her chair, sidling up the side of the table like she's sneaking closer to Seulgi who merely watches her with little intent to respond. "You were with someone?"
"That's not what I said, Joy."
"Sounds like it to me," She stands up again but now that's she closer, the way that she towers above Seulgi is a whole lot more obvious and, despite her status, it still sends a small tingle of nerves to her twitchy fingertips. "You should really be careful with who you associate with."
"You're telling me this?" They're close enough now that Seulgi can feel Joy's breath tickling her top lip and see the flecks in her dark eyes. It's uncomfortable.
"Because I won't hesitate to report you," Joy dismisses her and raises an eyebrow, her eyes trekking up and down her like she's inspecting her and matching to her respective title or perhaps the one she'd rather see her in. "I prioritise my job over mere acquaintances, let alone enemies."
"Watch your tongue or I'll cut it off!" Her taunting pause is enough to make anger simmer inside of Satan's second in command. She straightens up properly- she's still no match to Joy's physical stature but her authority is triple hers with a few added benefits, one of which is the ability of intimidation. Two can play that game. "Don't even think about threatening me; do you know who I am? I had reasons to keep this woman around me- reasons that you are in no position to even inquire about- even think about!" She stresses her words with added vexation, her volume consistently rising with each syllable- perhaps it's from Joy's ominous menace or from the nightmares riling up her distress or maybe even the mysterious angel she'd only met twice. "Keep playing at this little game of yours Sooyoung- it will lead you nowhere."
Joy doesn't reply. The words building in her throat are almost tangible, her bottom lip drawing in as if she's about to unleash some other arm-twisting coercion but then, as if they were never there in the first place, the staunchness in her expression is lost and her narrowed eyes are locking onto something behind the shorter devil. Sooyoung simply takes a deep breath, her shoulders which were undeniably tense, something that Seulgi hadn't even noticed, loosen and she takes a step back, an indifferent guise replacing her aggressiveness. Nonetheless, as she briskly walks past the devil, Seulgi doesn't fail to spot the small smirk curving at her lips and the knowing raise of an eyebrow.
Turning to follow the taller woman strut away with her eyes, she brushes past another woman- someone radiant and poised perfectly with bright, doe eyes and an easy-going smile. Bae Joohyun stands at a distance, her silhouette slightly darker being shrouded by the light pouring in from outside the coffee shop and streaking around her petite figure in rays and Seulgi's eyes are trained, unmoving upon her. They stand together in silence holding one another's gaze, the previous buzz of the coffee shop fading into nothing and the only thing Seulgi hears is Joy swinging the door open and beckoning in the wooshing of cars driving past in a world foreign to them both and the soft tapping of Irene's heels on the floor as she approaches.
"Hi, Seulgi."
Yeri finally takes a sip of her hot chocolate, exhaling out the hot air and wincing as the liquid leaves her tongue with an irritating, prickly sensation.
Seulgi spares the blissfully unaware girl a glance, the breakage between the torrid stare they shared making her aware of the way her nails were carving half-moons into the flesh of her forearm and how the aggressive nature she maintained with Joy had faded into nothing; replaced purely by shock which was not far ahead of her curiosity. Her thoughts were fragmented, her mind jumping unstably through them like a broken record: why? How? When? Now? Did she know? Is this planned?
Irene has deduced her confusion, judging by the smug expression on her face and she traipses past Seulgi with an air of ego and pride, both of which spark suspicion in the devil who rocks back on her heels with cautious apprehension. It's like she's pleased to see her as she rounds the table and assumes the spot Sooyoung had stood in but, despite her numerous perplexities, Seulgi thinks that she's a welcome replacement.
She seems more confident on earth, the air of anxiousness that usually floated around her like a red haze was more or less gone and Seulgi doesn't think she has the right to say 'usually' considering the fact that the two women barely know one another. She has a halo hovering a good few inches above her head this time and the luminescent ring lights up the space around her and makes her porcelain skin aglow with a radiance that only an angel would ever possess. Like a taunt slingshot, Seulgi can feel a pang of emotion shoot through her when she looks at it; irritation or jealousy? Perhaps both. Perhaps neither.
"Why are you here?" Seulgi wastes no time with lackluster greetings, an eyebrow cocked with expectation that she knows everyone responds to.
Irene, however, just languidly takes her time, her eyes are staring down at Yeri like she's analysing her, and only then does she lift her stare up to meet the devil's who stands impatiently. "I'm guarding Yeri. Why else?" She says it like it's obvious and Seulgi is already feeling an ebbing grief at having to deal with her obnoxiously distant and vague self. "Why do you look so annoyed? I've only been here for a minute."
"I'm not annoyed," Seulgi pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath, eyes closing for a few moments that fleet past quicker than she would have liked. She has been feeling like a taunt string all morning and Joy had frayed her edges and Irene was picking at them. She wasn't entirely sure whether to celebrate or complain. "Not at you."
"Oh, good," Irene's lips curve into a small smile and her shoulders push back and Seulgi notices that her eyes are on her body as she does so as if she's mirroring her posture. "You said yesterday I wouldn't do anything- well, here I am."
"What do you want?"
"Huh? What do you mean?" Irene physically recoils, eyebrows raising and pinching together with what looks like surprise or Seulgi thinks it could be the panic of being found out.
"You really shouldn't have taken up this job," Seulgi's hand drops to her side, her head slowly shaking. "There's already rumours spreading about me and some mysterious friendship. Plenty of them." She adds with a bite and if Joy was here, she knows she would be staring daggers at her.
"I see," Irene's surprise is genuine and her eyes flit off to the side as she ponders the situation. "Well, nobody knows it's me. And... friendship is a heavy word to put on it- it's not like I'm going to Hell again."
"You might as well."
"Hm?"
"You might as well have," Seulgi repeats and there's venom lacing her voice, her head tilting forwards, eyebrows raising scoldingly. "Going out of your way to find me is a little odd don't you think?"
"You told me where you were!"
"Yeah but-"
"What you said yesterday, wasn't an invitation?"
"No, of course not!"
"Then why'd you say it?"
Silence ensues. Yeri sips her hot chocolate obliviously.
Seulgi doesn't know how to respond. Irene's backed her into a corner; in the back of her mind she had hoped that Irene would take action upon hearing where she would be today but she certainly had not expected it. There was that small voice in her head reminding her what she could do with this situation- make it beneficial to you, use her, it says. But for what, she doesn't want to think about right now.
"This isn't illegal- it's a job. I'm not making it anything more than what you'll allow," Irene continues, clasping her hands and tapping one of her heels twice. She's laying the rules, placing down her cards- or some of them. "Am I sinning for wanting to talk to the woman who yanked me into a bathroom and beat me up?"
Sinning. She uses the word loosely, and Seulgi grits her teeth. "Was the bust lip not warning enough?"
As if she had forgotten about it, Irene's index finger tentatively lifts to the cut on her lip, gingerly brushing it. "But it was you who invited me to that hill to talk more," She has no reaction to the touch at first and Seulgi watches as she morbidly applies more pressure to the barely healed wound until she winces and pulls her hand away, looking back up at her. "I would have been gone in the blink of an eye otherwise."
"That's correct, but you intrigued me," At this, one of Irene's eyebrows raises, whether it be in genuine disbelief or mockery, Seulgi doesn't know. "But you had a choice in the matter whether you choose to admit it or not."
"I didn't know I did," Irene spits back and Seulgi can almost see the defensive bickering simmering in the air between them. Perhaps she's goaded at the angel enough- she was the instigator of this after all. "It is difficult to refuse an offer from Satan's second in command and that's not because you're charming."
Seulgi sucks in a sharp breath between her teeth at this, eyes darting to the ceiling in obvious agitation when she exhales. Instead of responding, she drags the chair back from beneath the table, making no effort to hide the grinding noise it emits as it scrapes along and sits down with little discernment. Irene copies her, aptly taking a spare chair and sitting besides Yeri, a little sideways from the table itself but she doesn't seem bothered. The devil props her elbows upon the edge of the table, her chin rested neatly on top of the back of her right hand, the left tapping on the wood, scratching absently at the already peeling varnish.
The constant thrum of life in the coffee shop has since faded to nothing as soon as Irene had arrived. She knows the commotion is still present, but she's completely in tune with the angel diagonal to her now, watching the tics of expression on her face and the way she poises herself, even listening to the intonations in the way she speaks. Nobody has ever chosen to be in her presence before and whilst it likely is for reasons that for now, Seulgi would like to leave uncovered, she can't help but feel a sense of elation, though given it is short-lived. Irene is equally quiet and other than that, she can deduce very little else.
"Being Satan's second hand..." She begins her words slowly as if she was approaching a sensitive subject. It's like she's testing hot water with her fingertips. "There's not really anywhere else for you to go is there?"
"Not really," Seulgi agrees, cautious at the mellower turn of their previous snide altercation. "I could go down the ranks, I suppose but I won't let that happen."
"So, you don't get bored? Or scared?" Irene asks. "Seeing as we live eternally, you'll just stay the same forever or... lose your promotions."
"Little jobs like these make it more entertaining and these types of interactions," Seulgi doesn't bother to deny the boredom of it all- that trait comes without saying in the afterlife. "But scared? No, if it happens, it happens. Wouldn't you know about it? I expect they wouldn't send a grunt to infiltrate Hell."
Irene's eyes look as though they spark to attention when Seulgi steers the conversation towards her. "No, but they might as well have considering the mess I made of it," She murmurs disheartened. "I suppose you're right."
"You're not a grunt?" Seulgi presses.
"No," Irene shakes her head, one of her legs crossing over the other and Seulgi can hear the sliding from the material of her clothing as she does it. "An archangel."
"Ah," Seulgi's facade becomes one of disinterest. "In Heaven, do you know the person who previously held your position?"
"Yeah, almost everyone does," Irene pauses when she sees Seulgi's head tilt slightly in what she assumes to be a spike of curiosity. "But I don't know who used to hold mine. No one will tell me. He's exiled or something now," She says it with a tang of irritation as if the question was bugging her as much as it was Seulgi. "Do you know the last second in command?"
"Yeah, a woman called Sooyoung," Seulgi waves her hand dismissively; she wants to move on from her. "We don't get along very well."
It looks like Irene wants to ask more about her, but she refrains, leaning back further in her seat. It continues like this for a while longer, a back and forth spew of questions and answers peppered with silence or tension whenever one gets too close to information the other isn't ready to divulge. It's like they know what's on the line here, yet with bravery or stupidity or some other concoction of the two, they walk across the tight-rope like acrobats. It's refreshing, learning about the other's way of life from themselves unlike the stagnant propaganda they're both force-fed from their respective homes. Not only is it refreshing, but it's addicting. Seulgi finds herself clawing at each little fact Irene gives away, clutching at information that maybe she shouldn't know and she can tell that Irene's is doing the same, thinking the same. Yet, despite it all, they grow increasingly comfortable in one another's presence. Perhaps it's the mutually assured destruction they have created; an environment where both of them have as much to lose as the other and in turn, they've manufactured peace or maybe something else is driving them entirely: a craving to bridge the gap between species torn apart by millenniums of war. Briefly, there's thought of something much more human than the both of them were familiar with-- wanting to know somebody, grow closer to them.
There's a moment of tension between them when Yeri finally finishes her hot chocolate, eyes preying upon her untouched sandwich. She takes a bite and both the archangel and the devil watch her quietly, their questions having come to a natural halt when they decided they had disclosed enough for one day-- fed enough information illegally to the other side is a harsher way to put it but neither will say it and thus, it brings no bother for now.
Yeri runs a hand through her hair, picking at a loose strand that has entangled itself around her finger but, instead of discarding it, she holds it between her fingers with scrutiny and a look of guilefulness and both women immediately know what she's about to do. Struggling intern puts hair in their food to get it for free; a story well-told by most and well-rehearsed by many. As small as the incident is, it's a stark reminder of their positions as Irene leans forwards in her seat, intent on ensuring that Yeri lets the thought go. It's a part of the dynamic that Seulgi both despises and finds intriguing; on the surface, getting her sandwich for free is good for her but in the long-term it causes damage to small businesses. Do angels think about those types of things? Do they ignore the small cries of moral dilemmas that plague individuals or prioritise industries and corporations that form the very foundations of the society these individuals dwell in? It usually would serve as an amusing plaything for Seulgi but having spoken to Irene, she's able to see the pinnacle of balance unfold before them at the conflicted expression wavering across Yeri's face.
Without a doubt, Seulgi could continue this little feud between them longer but she relinquishes with not even a word, watching stoically as Yeri casts the strand of her two-toned hair away. Irene's eyes dart up- she wasn't expecting for things to go so smoothly, especially without a few choice words for the other. "Why'd you do that?"
"I'm going easy on you," Seulgi replies almost smugly despite her failure. "Giving you a head start."
"I don't need one."
"Sure thing, archangel." Seulgi crosses her arms, not bothering to extend the conversation any longer.
After their prolonged harmony, she doesn't want to tell Irene that perhaps, she's just bored of being the devil's advocate.