Banished Divinity: Learning to be Human

"I suppose," she said slowly, "when you put it that way—"

"I'm putting it that way because that's the way it is. You're dead. You can't go back. You said it yourself. You're stuck like this. And instead of panicking about that, you're telling me about your love triangle."

"It's not a love triangle. It's a—a—"

"It's a triangle. With love. Or whatever passes for love among mortals who are too young to know what love actually is."

I paused at that.

Actually, I too do not know what love is.

I’m so screwed.

Human Sera's face went through several interesting transformations. Indignation. Embarrassment. And then, slowly, something that looked like relief.

"You're right," she said.

"Say that again?"

"You're absolutely right. I'm dead. I'm a ghost. I'm standing in my own bedroom, talking to a celestial being who's been living in my body, and I'm worried about boys." She laughed. It was a strange sound, thin and distant, but real. "I'm an idiot."

"Yes."

"A complete idiot."

"Yes."

She looked at me. Her eyes—my eyes, the same brown eyes I saw in the mirror every morning—were bright. Not with tears. With something else. Something that looked like hope.

"But I'm not gone yet," she said. "I'm still here. And there are things I need to do. Things I need to say. To Mum. To Dad. To Mina. To—" She paused. "To them. Before I go."

I looked at her. This girl. This ghost. This person who had been alive, who had loved and laughed and made terrible decisions, who had died too young and was now standing in my room asking for help.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked.

Her face lit up. Literally—her ghostly form glowed a little brighter, a little warmer.

"I need you to help me say goodbye. To all of them. And I need—" She hesitated. "—I need to figure out what I want. Before I go. With Jaehyun. With Minjae. I need to know what I want. I need to know who I am."

I considered this. A celestial being, banished from the heavens, tasked with learning what it meant to be human. And now, a ghost, tasked with helping another ghost figure out who she was before she moved on.

The Celestial Tribunal would have found this hilarious. If they had any sense of humour, which they did not.

"Fine," I said.

Human Sera blinked. "Fine?"

"I'll help you. But you have to help me too."

"With what?"

"School." The word came out like a curse. "I can't understand anything. The numbers don't make sense. The curves don't curve. The concepts shift and change and do things that concepts shouldn't do. I need help."

Human Sera stared at me. Then she laughed. It was a real laugh this time, full and bright, the kind of laugh that had probably made her friends love her and her parents forgive her for climbing out windows.

"You can't do economics," she said.

"I cannot do any of it. I am a celestial being. I have mastered concepts that would shatter your mortal mind. I have charted pathways between stars. I have negotiated treaties between realms that predate the existence of your species. And I cannot. Do. Economics."

She was laughing harder now, her ghostly form flickering with the force of it. "This is—this is the best—"

"It's not funny."

"It's very funny."

"It is not. I have been humiliated. I have been called a piglet. I have been beaten up by jealous mortal girls. I have been forced to sit in lectures where the words make no sense and the numbers do not behave and the professor looks like the doctor who looked at my brain and told me I might be a cat."

Human Sera was bent over now, clutching her stomach, her laughter echoing off the walls. Moo Moo, who had been watching this exchange with growing confusion, let out a small "Moo" that might have been amusement or might have been concern.

"Will you help me or not?" I demanded.

She straightened up, wiping tears from her eyes. Ghost tears. She could cry ghost tears. This was a detail I filed away for later.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I'll help you. I'll help you with everything. Economics. Sociology. Cultural Anthropology. Whatever you need. I was good at school. I got a scholarship. I can teach you everything I know."

I looked at her. At this ghost who was offering to teach me. At this girl who had died and come back and was standing in my room, laughing at my suffering.

"And the boys?" I asked.

Her laughter faded. Her expression shifted. "The boys?"

"You need to figure out what you want. Before you go. With Jaehyun. With Minjae. I can't do that for you. I don't—" I paused. "—I don't know what it feels like. To like someone. Like that."

She looked at me. Really looked. And something in her face softened.

"You will," she said. "Someday. You'll meet someone, and your heart will pound, and your palms will sweat, and you'll say something incredibly stupid, and they'll laugh, and you'll realize that you want to hear that laugh for the rest of your life. It'll happen. I promise."

I considered this. "It sounds unpleasant."

"It's terrible," she agreed. "It's the best thing in the world."

We stood there for a moment, the two of us. The celestial being and the ghost. The one who had fallen and the one who had died. Two Seras, standing in a room full of K-pop posters and unanswered questions.

"So," Human Sera said. "We have a plan?"

"We have a plan," I agreed.

"And the school work is going to go up a level?"

"Several levels. Many levels. I am very behind."

She grinned. It was my grin. Her grin. Our grin. "Then we'd better get started."

I nodded. Then I looked down at Moo Moo, who was sitting on my bed, watching us with the expression of a creature who had just watched the strangest conversation in his very strange life.

"Moo Moo," I said.

"Moo?"

"You're going to help too."

"Moo?"

"You're going to broadcast her. Like you did tonight. When we need her. For tutoring. For—" I glanced at Human Sera. "—for the other things."

Moo Moo looked at Human Sera. Human Sera looked at Moo Moo. Moo Moo's antennae twitched.

"Moo," he said.

"I think that's a yes," Human Sera said.

"It's always a yes with him. He's incapable of saying no. It's one of his many flaws."

"Moo Moo!" He sounded offended.

"One of his many virtues," I corrected. "He has many virtues. They are all very small. But they are there."

Human Sera laughed again. And Moo Moo, who had been through so much, who had fallen from the heavens and found a dying girl and broadcast a ghost into existence, let out a small, contented sound.

"Moo," he said.

And in the pink room, under the watchful eyes of nine boys who would never marry either of us, the three of us sat together and made our plans.

---

The next morning, I woke to find Moo Moo gone. He had left sometime in the night, slipping out the window and back to the hospital, back to Lily, back to the girl who needed him more than I did.

But on my pillow, where he had been sleeping, there was a single green fur. A reminder. A promise.

I picked it up. I looked at it. And for the first time since I fell from the heavens, I felt something that was not fear or confusion or the cold weight of being alone.

I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.