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Jae Young
As white smoke fills the entire bathroom, forming a thick cloud, I turn off the shower and run my hand over the shower stall glass. I slide one of the glass panels to the side, grab a towel, and quickly dry my hair and body. While wrapping the fluffy fabric around my waist, I hear Eleanor singing in the distance. Her voice is off-key, she mispronounces most of the words, and her tune doesn't quite match the language she's attempting, yet it’s endearing and reinforces that I am truly home—not because of the walls, but because of her presence.
I throw on the first shorts and t-shirt I find, run my fingers through my hair to settle it somewhat, and then hurry downstairs. The closer I get, the louder and more charming the off-key melody grows. I enter the kitchen to find Eleanor with her back to me, swaying her hips and nodding her head in front of the stove, her lips stretched into a smile.
Silently, I savor the scene, which reminds me of my mother in the kitchen. Like Lia, she sang while she cooked, though her pitch was perfect. Eleanor’s version is more fun in its own way.
She turns around, using the spoon as a makeshift microphone, her eyelids closed. When she opens her eyes and sees me, she nearly jumps out of her skin and loses her balance, inadvertently hitting the pot handle. Hot contents splash onto her right forearm.
I rush toward her, stretching my arm as far as possible to catch her below the shoulder blades. I lose my balance but manage to cushion her fall. Her head collides with my chest, causing a sharp pain.
“Eleanor? Are you okay?” I ask gently, stroking her head.
“Yes,” she replies, her voice low and tearful.
I don’t mind her weight on me; in fact, the warmth and scent of her skin make my blood flow faster, wishing she could stay there longer. My arms wrap around her, pressing her tightly against me.
She exhales sharply onto her arm, reminding me that hot soup had spilled on her.
I lean on one arm to push us upright and then lead her to the sink, where I turn on the tap and cool her arm under the water.
“The soup,” Eleanor says, looking up at me with teary eyes. I gently push her hair aside.
“We need to take care of your burn first. After that, we can either order something or just have ramen.”
“It’s late... I should probably head home.” She pulls her arm from the water and bends it, checking the burn. I squat down to ease the strain on her legs. “Jae Young! You’re still recovering. And what if...”
“What if it gets infected?” She forms a tentative smile, her bright green eyes locking with mine. “I’ll take care of you tonight. Let Mariana know you’ll be staying here.”
“Staying here?!”
“Just to sleep, nothing more.”
Despite my body craving more closeness, reason knows it’s not the right time.
I help her upstairs to my bedroom and tend to her wound. After cleaning it, I apply burn gel and wrap it in gauze. By the time I finish, her eyes have closed and her breathing has deepened. I adjust her pillow, remove her slippers, and cover her with a sheet.
I lie down beside her, facing her delicate features, memorizing every detail. A sense of déjà vu overwhelms me, as if I’ve lived this moment before. I trace my fingers gently across her face, feeling my heart pound against my chest. The sensation is intense, leaving me feeling as though I'm in two places at once: here in my room with Lia, and simultaneously, in what appears to be her room.
With Elleanor in my arms, I enter her room and gently place her on the bed. I unzip her dress, remove her shoes, and cover her. Sitting next to her, I softly run my fingers through her hair, careful not to wake her. A strand falls across her face, and I carefully tuck it behind her ear. Drawn to her like a powerful magnet, I allow myself to be carried away, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Suddenly, another image of her room overwhelms my senses. I lie on her bed, eagerly awaiting her arrival. When Elleanor appears with her hair down, my world pauses—I hear only the beats of my heart. Opening my arms, I smile. She crawls toward me and lies down, her head on my arm, facing me, just as she does now.
"Nan neoleul joh-ahae..."
I watch as she moves closer to my face. The beating of my heart intensifies, pulsing doubly with vigor. The sensation of being in two places at once isn't just movie magic; it feels as if I'm reliving everything. Then, Elleanor kisses me. My head throbs with pain, my ribs ache, and my hands and feet go numb.
The same floral scent fills the room again. My eyes burn, and I squeeze them shut. When I reopen them, I'm certain I've gone mad. Standing in my room, leaning against the door frame, is a man with purple eyes, dressed in a sleek, futuristic white suit. He smiles at me. I cover Elleanor with my body.
"Jae Young. Long time no see?"
"Daebak! Am I hallucinating and hearing voices too?!"
"Hmm, interesting. You've changed my nickname. Am I no longer the receptionist?"
"Receptionist?"
The word echoes endlessly in my mind. My eyes grow heavy, and despite my best efforts to keep them open, I lose the battle.
"I'm not the Creator, nor an angel. In some cultures, I'm known as the Reaper. I'm just a simple receptionist..."
I watch the rain fall on me, yet it doesn't wet the exposed skin of my hand. The green leaves flutter on the branches, and I experience superhuman hearing. My body lies on the ground, and I recall the struggle to revive it, the compelling pull of the tunnel light, and the ceiling-less white room. There's Gael with his unique style...
“Did you read my mind?” I ask, laughing at the absurdity of my question as tears trickle down my cheeks. All the emotions I felt during those moments resurface like a scene from a science fiction movie, alongside other unfamiliar sensations from the present.
I grope toward the bed. My fingers encounter Elleanor's soft skin and glide over it until they reach her fingers, which I intertwine with mine as if my life depends on it.
I open my mouth and form her name with my lips, but no sound emerges.
Is this what she felt when visited by ghosts?
There's no answer, only the realization that as I cling to her, her touch prevents me from drowning in pain.
Each new memory is like a ride on a roller coaster. I recall she seeing my ghost and her desperation, her frantic search for me in the woods, even memories of her as a child walking beside me before the accident. I remember our time together in the hospital, at her house—the dialogues, touches, confessions...
Then there's Wook, picking me up at the airport, accompanying me at the hotel. The events that unfold at the agency, his interactions with Elleanor, the lies—each detail agonizes me anew.
The woman with green hair appears in my mind.
“Who is she?”
"Isy. A friend," Gael smiles. "It's almost over for today, Jae Young. Hang on."
"For today? Will there be more?"
"I can't interfere beyond that."
The exotic woman kneels beside my body, inhaling the scent around her. "I'll do what I can... Is he already in the tunnel?"
Her voice is soft, yet her tone carries the readiness of someone about to enter battle. Her image is not as clear as other memories.
When Gael disappears, she covers me with dry leaves. Standing, I hear the crunch of branches near and sometimes directly above my body. After several of these sounds, her hands resume their work on me.
She reappears, crushing flowers and unfamiliar leaves, creating a paste that she applies to the wounds on my ribs and head. Over the dry leaves covering my body, she spreads more plants. She extends her hands over my chest, keeping them just far enough to avoid contact. Her lips move in silence; when she stops, she changes the plant-based dressings.
With a cupped hand, she pours something into my mouth, then resumes her mantra or prayer...
––––––––
A soft touch starts at my temples, gliding up and down the side of my face. My eyes lazily open to Elleanor’s sweet and infectious smile.
"Good morning!" Elleanor whispers, her lips close to my ear. "I didn't want to wake you. Your breathing seemed so tired! I think I gave you a lot of work last night. Sorry... I have to go, I don't want to be late and put Madá in another embarrassing situation with the staff."
"You were my cheonsa, Elleanor."
She covers her face with her hands and shakes her head from side to side. My heart races, and my eyes burn with memories of the night.
I pull her close, wrapping my arms around her body. Our hearts race side by side, matching each other's speed, as if chasing the finish line together.
"Komawo, for waiting for me and not giving up."
Elleanor places her hands on my chest, pressing down as she rises to face me. She raises her eyebrows and tilts her head slightly to the left, her lips curling into a shy smile.
"Why are you saying that? And what does it really mean?"
"Gratitude," I say. She laughs, exhaling through her nose. She kisses my forehead and both cheeks. Before she can pull away, I hold her face and gently press our lips together. "Good morning. You're the sunlight that keeps my heart going."
"Do you know this song?"
"Henry Lau," I laugh.
"Jae Young, you're acting very suspicious today." She springs out of bed and dashes to the bathroom.
I can't tell her yet. Not until I'm certain about Wook's involvement in my supposed accident...