Banished Divinity: Learning to be Human

For the next few hours, we sat in the corner booth of the tiny ramen shop.

Jaehyun talked.

He talked about Jack—the golden retriever who had been with him since he was five years old. Who had slept on his bed every night. Who had greeted him at the door every day. Who had licked his face when he cried and wagged his tail when he laughed.

He talked about the cancer. The treatments. The hope that had flickered and died. The final morning, when Jack had looked at him with those soft brown eyes and then simply... stopped.

He cried.

I sat across from Jaehyn, listening. And for once, I did not think about celestial beings. I did not think about the Tribunal. I did not speak about strange dimensions or cosmic battles or the realms I had conquered.

I just listened.

This is what mortals do, I thought. They hurt. They share. They sit in small shops with warm broth and old couples and they let their pain exist in the open. It's not weak. It's not strange. It's just... human.

When Jaehyun finally ran out of words, the old woman Hanako herself, appeared with bowls of ice cream. "For the sad boy," she said, patting Jaehyun's head. "And his friends."

Jaehyun managed a small smile. "Thank you."

We ate our ice cream in silence. And somehow, that silence felt more comforting than any words could have been.

---

After dinner, both boys insisted on walking me home.

"I'll take her," Jaehyun said.

"You're still upset," Minjae said. "I'll come too."

"I don't need a babysitter." Jaehyn rolled his eyes.

"You need a friend. There's a difference." Minjae rolled his eyes too.

They bickered for another minute before somehow reaching an agreement that both of them would walk me home.

Humans are really strange. One moment they argue. The next, they agree as though nothing happened. Is this what friendship looks like? I wondered. I thought.

So we walked. And for once, I, the Celestial Being, did not object.

Jaehyun on my left. Minjae on my right.

They were both tall. Like, really tall. Like, built-like-buildings tall. I walked between them, feeling very much like a midget who had wandered into a forest of very handsome trees.

This is strange, I thought. Two boys. Both interested in the same body. Both interested in different versions of the same person. And I am in the middle, trying not to trip over my own feet.

We walked in silence.

---

When we reached my house, Minjae started looking around cautiously scanning the shadows, checking the windows. He moved like a very cautious prey trying not to wake a sleeping predator. His movements were absolutely comical. He kept ducking, lifting his head to check over the walls outside my home because he was so tall, then ducking again.

"What are you doing?" Jaehyun asked.

"I don't want to get hit by a glowing rectangle and carry a fat lump," Minjae said.

“A what rectangle?” Jaehyn asked.

I laughed.

Not a polite laugh. Not a celestial-being-trying-to-be-human laugh. A real laugh. Loud and unexpected and slightly unhinged.

Both boys stared at me like I had grown a second head.

"What?" I said.

"You laughed," Jaehyun said.

"I know."

"You never laugh." Minjae looked shocked as he said that.

"I laugh. I laugh internally."

"That wasn't internal." Jaehyn and Minjae both said at the same time.

"No," I said. "It wasn't."

Human Sera floated out through the front door. When she saw Jaehyun, she screamed with joy, a silent, ghostly scream that still somehow hurt my ears.

"MY MAN! MY MAN IS HERE! AT MY HOUSE! SERA! why is he here? what happened? did you..."

Then she saw Jaehyun's face. Red. Puffy. Sad.

Her joy faded. "What happened?"

I couldn't answer. Not without looking crazy. So, I just looked at Jaehyun, then at Human Sera, and hoped she understood.

She floated closer to him. She reached out her ghostly hand and placed it on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry you're hurting. I wish I could tell you. I wish you could hear me."

Jaehyun shivered. "It's cold all of a sudden."

"It's just the wind," Minjae said.

Human Sera pulled back her hand. She looked at me. Her eyes were bright, not with tears, exactly, but with something close.

"Take care of him," she said. "For me."

I nodded. Just barely. Just enough for her to see.