Exposure to restricted entities may cause one harm. But exposure to wrong might cause a harm that is far crueller. Kismet is the master. It pronounces everything; all pre-decided.
In the systematic universe where life and beings exist, governance is...
Reaper Han-11905 had his duty near the congested paths of Gwanghwamun today. The case would be the same old repetitious vehicle accident. The only spectrum odd would be the soul, which would, unfortunately, belong to a tourist. Han-11905 never rated it when humans died on foreign lands; one, he'd be overly empathetic about it each time, two, such cases were supplementary work for reapers.
He was resting his misfitting matter of a form outside an electronics shop estimating the arrival of his client's death when one of his work acquaintance, Han-11786 appeared. He was about to greet her when he inculcated her gasping visage shooting stares at something right behind him. He turned around to be overtaken by shock in the same intensity himself. He walked through the glass wall of the electronics shops. 786 followed.
"Why are you on the television, 905?" 786 asked him, her eyes still glued on the screen, but the addressee was way too much into his calculation to be able to answer. They listened to the television in silence.
"And now everyone, it's time for Byun Baekhyun-ssi to perform!" The woman inside the wide flat screen screamed, and the man who was being mentioned started singing. The man who looked exactly like Han-11905.
"Baekhyun?" 905 mumbled.
"How's that possible?" His acquaintance asked.
"There's only one possible explanation. He might've been my identical twin brother in my past life. What a lucky guy! He got to have his rebirth."
"I must've been a terrible sinner," he said laughingly. The other reaper could see through the suppressed pain in that laugh, they shared the same luck after all. The both of them wondered again, what sin must they have committed in their life as a human.
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"Why? What is it now? Why do you need more?" Sera was growing impatient and tired of mother Geum's monetary demands. It was getting tougher for her to not thrash the smartphone into oblivion.
"I donated some money this week," Mrs Geum said.
"What the hell! The allowance I send you is for you to live comfortably. It's bad enough that you spend it early every month buying the most unnecessary and expensive of stuffs of wants rather than your needs. And this time you dare to donate to the poor?" Sera tried to keep the speech as passive as possible.
"Oh, it was not for the poor. It was for this team of young girls who needed money for a 'Canine Clothing Line' startup plan. They contacted our association, and we agreed. That lousy Mrs Shin was donating a fair amount, and I wanted to donate more than her. It was a matter of prestige."
"A canine what?" Sera's tongue was itching to curse, but it was still her mother: consort of her father who she respected.
"Canine clothing line. It's basically fashion for the dogs. Their idea was―"
