Getting a second chance at life isn't exactly as enchanting as it seems.
Sohee Young, who lived life like the callous person she was, dies. She gets another chance to live life correctly though, and that is by swapping lives with Lina Park, who die...
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I'D SUFFERED LISTENING to the two elders bicker for an hour, but it felt like a whole week had passed. Raising a hand to rub my temples, I nodded my head to acknowledge the Imo that brought me tea, lowering my cap and slouching further to avoid having the purple bruise blossoming near the top of my head fussed over. And the small yet noticeable one near my jaw.
And apparently, my fingers were burnt and scarred, but they fixed that portion before I woke up. In the middle ground between the Earth and the Afterlife, which also brought us here.
A cloud. I was in a cloud for hours.
There had been an airplane that passed up, too, the screeching sound it left behind exactly like the banshee scanner that I had gone through.
"Remember, you got attacked by the twins. That's the only clear memory he should have. The others might appear in nightmares, or remain in his subconscious," Marshall repeated, mouth pursed.
"You already told me this," I shut my eyes for a moment.
"It's not like I want to," the elder retorted. "But Anisa said she'd demote me—which, now that I think about it, how do you demote someone who's already at the bottom? What, is she going to make me a revived again? I don't think so."
Not again. Why couldn't Andrew come faster? If he sent the frantic texts and demanded me to meet him in the cafe, it was proper manners to be sitting here, in the corner booth, first. Yet here I waited.
As the elder slammed his cup down again, startling the cashier, I sighed.
"Do you think I'm a bad elder?" He asked. For the first time, even with his relaxed posture, I saw a hint of vulnerability in the way he glanced elsewhere for a moment, clasping his hands together.
"No," I said. "Though I'm surprised at how you become one. Your lack of empathy is not helpful for newcomers."
"So you think I'm not a great welcoming sign, but I'm a good elder?" He laughed. "So? As long as I'm doing my job. Thanks, by the way. I can't believe I let Anisa get to me. And I put up with her demands, too." He shuddered. "She's kind of like you, especially with your mood swings. At least people like Andrew and I are steady and calm."
And I took back my previous comment. My lips pursed together. He wasn't wrong—normally, the people I talked to did it for their jobs, and I'd order them to get this or that. And compromising wasn't my strong suit, especially because I had to fight to even say what was on my mind. Which didn't benefit my personality.
"What, no comeback?" The elder raised his eyebrows.
"Shut up," I muttered. I'd start bettering myself with Andrew, not the council member who invested himself in drama. And apparently ticked off his whole team.
"You know he's no Will," Marshall rolled his eyes. "I hope I never have to deal with that man—I'm already planning to send him straight to the chamber."
"What?" I snorted. "The chamber of secrets?"
"Torture," he deadpanned. "It's where we run a stimulation of all your worst nightmares and fears, and we put you through it for the exact number of seconds you've acted that way. Or," with a hint of more glee this time, "If we really hate you, we put you there for however long you've lived, and when we remember you, retrieve you later. Too bad you can't do it to elders."
A feeling of queasiness overcame me, as I realized: I was about to be sent there.
"Good thing you didn't go, huh? Not that I'd leave you alone there forever. I like you and your spirit. But I'd do it to Anisa. A million times. I hate being tied to her."
"Lina!" A voice boomed across the cafe, and Andrew rushed towards me. "Are you—"
His steps faltered when he saw Marshall, eyes narrowed. Or I must've been imaging it, because he beamed and greeted him.
"Hey, kid," Marshall replied easily, tipping his hat. Unfazed that we were the only two people in the room covering our faces, and that he forgot that he now went to our school. "You've been dreaming about me lately?"
"I'll... Go order," Andrew said.
✗ ✗ ✗
"Who were those people?" Andrew demanded as the elder left.
"The people?"
"The people that attacked you!" His voice got caught in his throat, and he leaned in, elbows on the table. "One of them swung at you, and I yelled your name."
"I'm fine," I assured him, but winced when he grasped my chin, where the purple circle bloomed. Mouth pursed in a determined line and eyebrows drawn together, his face became stony.
"This is not fine," he spat out. "You were ganged up on. People think that they can pick on whoever they want and get away with it."
Really, I was fine. What I wasn't fine with, though, was how he, who couldn't read the situation, jumped in. Sure, no doubt Andrew knew how to fight regular people. But this was a different level—one not fit for him.
But I couldn't snap at him to be careful because he didn't remember anything.
"It's reality," I snapped, channeling my frustration into what he said. "And I'm not defenseless, you know."
Caught myself. This wasn't Andrew accusing me, but caring for my wellbeing. I know Emma fussed over me during our phone call, but the fact that Andrew did too...
"I know you're not, but doesn't mean it's a pass for you to get attacked out of nowhere. Just because someone couldn't control their emotions."
The corners of my lips curving upwards. "You care," I said quietly. Because who knew. In Sohee Young's situation, nobody would have cared for my own wellbeing, only asking to dish to the press. "Too bad you passed out, though. If you hadn't, you would've seen me fend them off and then some."
"I passed out?"
"Yeah," I fibbed. "Toppled over me and everything. But don't worry, I protected you."
He rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears flushing. "I- Sorry. I'm a bit heavy. I can't— Yesterday's just hazy."
I snickered, the mood lightened. "Yeah, okay. How do you feel?"
"I'm good," he answered automatically.
"Mhm. So I didn't see you die when Imo smacked you in the ribs and hugged you?"
"Sorry," he repeated, shoulders slumping. "Force of habit. I'm a little sore, but I'm not the one who saved the day." The last part of his tone was teasing. I stayed silent, guilt washing over me. Because even though he didn't have to stab someone who decided to take over her father, I wasn't the one whose bones got cracked to pieces.
"Any nightmares?" I asked nonchalantly.
"How'd you know?"
"I had one," I said. "So..."
"Me too," he said in a low voice, balling his hands into fists. "You almost died in it."
