"Good morning, murderer!" Gabriel greeted loudly, making Kant flinch awake.
"So, my body has been taken to the morgue, but I can't touch it," the ghost announced. "I need you to steal it for me before they burn it to ashes."
Kant sighed deeply, slumping up. "And you think I'll do it for you?"
"It's my birthday tomorrow."
Kant raised a sarcastic eyebrow. What did birthdays matter in this time and age? Only kids celebrated that.
"Are you that afraid of missing out on a lavish party with tons of women and booze that your soul's still lingering here?"
Gabriel scowled. "I'm not into any of those things. In fact, I'm more of an introvert."
Kant rolled his eyes and went to make coffee. "Sure, introvert."
"And for the record, I was supposed to meet my uncle," Gabriel added, slumping dramatically, "My uncle was the only person who cared about me. I was hoping he could help me figure out what to do next..."
Kant leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. He was well aware of who Gabriel's uncle was. The very same person who had paid for this hit, the man who saw Gabriel as a mere inconvenience in the family's business plans.
What a dog-eat-dog world.
The ghost grabbed Kant's cup and sipped on it while he was lost in thought.
When Kant noticed, he snatched the cup back from Gabriel's hands, but it was still full to the brim with coffee. He cast an unimpressed glance at the ghost. "Were you pretending to drink this?"
"Oh, no, I drank it. I sipped on the coffee's soul," Gabriel replied, crossing his legs. "Though that drink tasted soulless in the first place. Don't you have any milk or sugar?"
Kant ignored the comment, pouring the coffee down the drain. "So how does this work, exactly? You can touch objects, but not people?"
"Seems that way. And no one can see me except you. You're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you," Gabriel drawled. "Unfortunately."
. . .
Rain was in full force, wetting the streets and drumming on the rooftops. They crossed the street, approaching a chicken shop.
"It looks like it's closed," Gabriel noted, staring into the dark interior. "Maybe come back tomorrow?"
Kant said nothing, pushing the door open. All tables except one were cleaned and shrouded in dim light that came from under the crack of the kitchen door.
Gabriel was tiptoeing around cautiously. "Are you breaking and entering? Sick of murdering, now you're trying to collect other crimes?"
Kant walked towards the kitchen door, but stopped before entering. His hand hovered over the door knob as whispers and murmurs reached from inside. He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"Is something wrong?" Gabriel asked, breathing down his neck.
Kant swung the door open without an elaboration. As if on cue, a cloud of colorful confetti slapped him right in the face, sticking to his rain-soaked jacket and dampened face.
"Happy birthday!" came a loud exclamation from a crowd of three.
Gabriel covered his mouth in surprise. "Oh my gosh, you decided to throw me a surprise party? Aw, you didn't have to! When did you plan this? I know I said I don't like parties, but I can make an exception this... time..."
His voice faded out as he saw Kant's tired frown.
For a few moments only the sound of raindrops from his parka could be heard, hitting the ground with pak... pak... while the three-person party silently awaited Kant's reaction.
"I told you to stop doing this," he finally said, wiping the pieces of confetti from his chin.
Jones approached him with a cake. "Aw, well, you're not the boss here," he held up the cake in front of his face. "Now, make a wish!"
Gabriel stared at Kant in shock. "Whaaat? It's your birthday today? A day before mine? Why didn't you tell me?"
Kant was busy dodging the pile of frosting that was about to slap him the same way confetti had. "Stop that."
"Come on, don't kill the vibe and blow out the candles!" Jones urged impatiently.
"Jones prepared this for you, Kant. We all did," a shorter elderly lady in a yellow apron walked to his side, trying to pick the last colorful rectangle stuck to his forehead.
Kant leaned down slightly so she could reach it. "Thank you."
"You're welcome!" Jones replied, popping another burst of confetti with a cheerful grin.
"I was thanking Mrs. Shin, not you," Kant muttered, waving the glossy colors away.
The third member of the party grumbled, "Blow the damn candles so we can eat and move on with our lives."
"And what's wrong with him?" Gabriel scoffed, turning away from Hunter with an annoyed grimace.
Kant wanted to get it over with too. He blew out the candles, and Jones lowered the cake, staring at him with narrowed eyes. "You didn't make a wish, did you?"
"Last year I wished to be left alone. Didn't work," Kant remarked dryly, following Jones out into the dining area.
"Have you eaten dinner yet?" Mrs. Shin interjected.
"Yes," Kant replied on the way.
Gabriel whipped his head around like a hawk, pointing a righteous finger. "Liar! You only drank that shitty coffee water."
Mrs. Shin called out from the kitchen. "I made a fresh batch of sweet chili wings. Kant, you'll eat them, right?"
"Say yes, say yes!" Gabriel laughed, tugging at Kant's sleeve. "If you won't eat them, I will!"
After brushing the ghost off, Kant sighed and called out, "Yes."
Before he could sit down, Jones dangled a cutesy panda keychain in front of his face. "Here, a gift. Looks just like you."
Gabriel slapped his thigh, cackling. "Ha! He's right, your eyebags do match the panda!"
Kant glared at the ghost, muttering under his breath, "...must be here to have fun."
"Why, yes, I am here to have fun." Jones thought the statement was about him. He stuffed the keychain into Kant's pocket before giving him a smack on the back. "Smile a little for once. Life's easier that way."
Mrs. Shin carried over two large plates, one of crispy chicken wings that had a spicy, reddish color, the other golden brown drumsticks, absent of strong spice. "Dig in. I put the cake in the refrigerator for now."
"She's a nice lady. I like her," Gabriel commented, hunching over the table as he eyed the food.
Four living people and a ghost occupied the large table. Bottles of soju were brought out. Crunching and chewing sounds filled the air.
Jones kept a constant smile on his face as he chatted with Mrs. Shin, occasionally nudging Kant or the grumpy Hunter. Jones was used to the other two men's lack of enthusiasm, not minding their dry answers.
Mrs. Shin kept placing pieces of meat on Kant's plate, who bowed his head slightly each time, expressing his thanks.
Gabriel observed Kant's placid demeanor and how he remained on the sidelines, almost as if he was merely a guest at his own birthday party.
"It's such a nice atmosphere, but you're so... dead. One would think you're the ghost," Gabriel said, walking around, bumping into furniture with a squeak.
Kant kept following his movements with his eyes, shooting a warning glance every time he made a sound.
"What's wrong? Did you hear something?" Mrs. Shin inquired, looking around the restaurant.
"Must be seeing things again," Hunter interjected. "I know he's still not over—"
Jones chuckled between bites, clapping loudly before raising his glass. "Hey! Cheers!"
Mrs. Shin joined in, clinking her glass against Jones's, "To keeping it light!"
Kant raised his glass of water, joining the toast, "Cheers."
Gabriel stared at Kant, crossing his arms. "Why aren't you drinking?"
The ghost didn't receive any reply, and was ignored for the rest of the gathering, up until the cake was gone, and the soju bottles were empty.
Jones tapped Kant's shoulder as they began cleaning up. "Follow me."
Kant finished stacking the plates and followed him into the storage room.
Gabriel was too busy squinting and trying to figure out what was Hunter's problem to notice the two leaving the dining area.
Jones pushed the door open, a creak greeting them. He flicked the light switch, and the tired light bulb overhead whined a hello too.
"Here's your payment," Jones said, slapping the briefcase that sat on the table. He leaned against a shelf stocked with large bags of flour, his grin widening. "It's almost like a birthday present, eh?"