The contract with Death! M.YG× Reader

Chapter 4

The funeral service officially started right as scheduled. The congregation rose to their feet while the small choir beside the altar started singing a soft, melodic tune. A priest accompanied by two deacons and an altar boy made his way up the aisle toward the altar. The priest had only been speaking for a few moments about losing a life so young when the crying began.

It didn't seem like anyone near me was crying, but after a moment of peering around on my tiptoes, I saw a woman in the front row being supported by the man beside her, and she was very clearly sobbing into his shoulder. I couldn't see her face, and I had no way of knowing who she was, but it didn't take much on my part to realize that the woman must have been Yoongi's mother.

I decided then that very few things in the world could break your heart quite like a mother mourning the loss of her child. A boy was dead when he didn't have to be. After that, I figured it was okay for me to cry too.

The tears started falling fast and furiously as Mr. Choi walked up to the pulpit to say a few words about Yoongi and what an exemplary student he had been. I was crying while a boy with the same eyes as Yoongi's stood next and gave a kind, heartfelt eulogy. And I was sobbing when I was given a white rose and then stumbled my way up to the altar to lay the flower on Yoongi's casket.

Maybe I stood there longer than necessary, but what was I supposed to say? I'm sorry I didn't ever speak to you? I'm sorry you felt like you had to end your life? I wish you were still here?

"Yoongi, I'm—"

"Do you know my big brother?"

I quickly turned around and saw a little girl standing in front of me, with pretty dark curls and bright blue eyes, blinking up at me in confusion. The girl couldn't have been any older than five, and that somehow made it all the worse, learning that Yoongi had a little sister so young.

"Um . . . yeah," I said, wiping at my eyes. "I went to school with your brother."

The little girl gave a toothy grin. "He's pretty cool, huh?"

I felt another wave of sadness at the girl's words.

She hadn't said was. She said is. She spoke as if her brother were still alive. I didn't know how old she actually was, but she looked young enough to not fully understand the concept of death. I didn't envy the person who would have to explain to her that her brother would never be coming home again.

I did my best to give a small laugh at her enthusiasm. "Definitely."

"I'm Rosie," the little girl said, offering out a hand for me to shake in a rather adult-like manner.

"Hi, Rosie," I said, shaking her hand. "I'm Y/N."

"Mommy says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, but since you know Yoongi and you're pretty, I think it's okay," Rosie said in a rush.

"Oh," I said, unsure of what to say. "Thank you?"

"C'mon, you should come meet my mommy!"

Rosie grabbed at my hand and tugged me back toward the pews, where a group of people had congregated, speaking with one another.

"Mom! Mom!" Rosie chirped, shoving through people's legs. "Have you met Y/N?"

A woman with long, dark hair tinged with a few streaks of gray and wide hazel eyes broke away from the elderly woman she'd been speaking with and turned to Rosie with a disapproving look. "Rosie, how many times have I told you not to run off?" she scolded, hand on hip. "You scare the living daylights out of me when you do that!"

Rosie seemed to brush this off and gestured up at me. "Mommy, have you met Y/N?"

The woman turned to me in surprise, and she looked vaguely familiar, even though I was positive I'd never seen her before. She really was rather pretty, but the dark circles underneath her bloodshot eyes and the pinched look about her face made it seem as if she hadn't slept a wink in days.

"Y/N, is it?" She gave a small smile as she reached out shake my hand. "Thank you for rounding up my daughter."

"It's no problem," I said quickly. "None at all. I was just . . ."

"Did you go to school with Yoongi?"

"Um. Yes." I nervously cleared my throat as the woman stared at me, an unusually kind look on her face, despite how exhausted she appeared to be. "We had English together freshman year."

"That's nice," she said softly. "I'm , Yoongi's . . . m-mother."

Her voice cracked on that last word, and her eyes filled with tears, but she sucked in a deep breath as she scooped Rosie up into her arms and kissed her cheek, obviously trying to distract herself. Of course she looked familiar. Her eyes. It was hard to forget eyes like those.

Mrs.Min had to be the strongest woman I'd ever seen. Her son had just died, and yet she was still trying to smile for her daughter. I was at a loss as to what to say to her. Any words of condolence I could possibly offer her wouldn't make an ounce of difference. So even though I was a total stranger, I hugged her. She didn't seem to mind.

Fifteen minutes later, I made my way out of the cathedral. It was now cold enough that I could see my breath make clouds in front of me as I exhaled. I stepped off the curb and waved a hand, trying to flag down a cab. Cars kept whizzing past, not showing any signs of slowing down.

"A young girl like yourself shouldn't be out and about in the city at this time of night, don't you think?"

I whipped toward the sound of the deep, husky voice that had just spoken behind me.

The light from the streetlamp a few feet away wasn't bright enough to illuminate the cathedral steps, but I could make out what looked to be the figure of a man sitting on the bottom step, legs sprawled out in front of him.

How could I have possibly not seen him? Had he even been there as I walked down the steps?

My words came out as a stammer. "Who . . . w-what do you want?"

"Not much."

I stumbled backward as the man rose to his feet, sauntering forward into the glow of the streetlamp.

Looking up at him made me wish I'd never stepped out of my apartment tonight. He was tall with slick, dark hair, and wore a black leather jacket, jeans, and scuffed-up boots. I couldn't make out any distinctive facial features, but with his sunken eyes and hollow cheekbones, he looked as if he had never eaten a scrap of food in his life.

That wasn't the creepiest thing about him, though. His eyes were. Those black, depthless eyes staring down at me made it feel as if he knew every thought that had ever crossed my mind before.

"I . . . I'm not looking for trouble," I said, unable to keep my voice from trembling. "I think you—"

"Oh, I'm not here to bring you any trouble, Kang Y/N" the man said, cracking a smirk that sent a sliver of fear down my spine.

Who was this guy?

"How do you—"

"Know your name? I know everything, Hadley. It kind of comes with the job description."

I may not have been a genius, but I knew enough of what was really out in the world to tell that there was something wrong with this man. Something very wrong with this man.

"Look, I don't know who you are," I said uneasily, "but you better stay away from me."

The man rummaged around in his pockets and came up with a cigarette, which he immediately lit and then took a long drag. I couldn't help but gag when the acrid smoke hit my nose.

"Or you'll what?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Scream?"

My heart was pounding so fast, I thought I might keel over in a dead faint. I quickly calculated my chances of making a run for it, or at least jumping into the first cab I could find, but since I was wearing heels, the odds were not in my favor. I doubted I would be able to get my shoes off fast enough to start running without being easily overtaken.

What was I supposed to do?

"Who are you?" I demanded.

Another wide, eerie smirk curled the man's mouth as he took a second drag on his cigarette. He shrugged a shoulder. "I'm known by a lot of names, actually. The Grim Reaper. The angel Azrael. Mephistopheles. But I suppose for simplicity's sake, you can just call me Death."
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Chap 4.
Hope you don't find it boring.
It's Gon' be interesting next chapter 😉
Borahae 💜