Little Pink Starfish

After the shoot.

I was sitting in the passenger seat of the car.

Without the cameras, it felt like I could finally breathe.

Spending the entire day sticking close to Starbright, exchanging sweet, nauseating words—it was exhausting, to say the least. I was glad I no longer needed sleep thanks to the power I received from Starbright. Otherwise, he would have haunted even my dreams with that insincere smile.

Just as I was thinking that, the driver’s door opened.

<You look rather worn out.>

With a mischievous smile, Starbright appeared. He was holding two plastic cups, one with an Americano and the other with a strawberry smoothie. I took the smoothie and inserted a straw.

“I thought I was going to die. All that forced lovey-dovey acting…”

I sighed as I glanced at Starbright.

“Weren’t you tired?”

<Not at all.>

Starbright replied as he started the engine.

<It’s easy to conceal one’s true nature. I told you, I was once an angel. Smiling nauseatingly and saying, ‘Ah, I am the Lord’s messenger, here to save you,’ like Mikael—it’s not difficult. That was originally my role, after all.>

“Oh, is that so.”

<Of course. The King of Hell must be skilled at seducing creatures with a beautiful face. Like succubi, I too am adept at leading creatures into corruption. I’ve simply been too lazy to act on it.>

“…How impressive.”

I bit down on the straw.

<Seatbelt. We’re leaving.>

“Yes, yes.”

The car pulled out of the parking lot and rolled onto the road. But not for long. Caught in the rush hour traffic, the car soon came to a complete stop amid the sea of commuting vehicles.

Sipping my smoothie, I watched Starbright. His expression, calmly facing forward, made him look like the virtuous archangel he once was, serving as the right hand of The Savior Who Is One and All. Of course, inside, he was probably fantasizing about wiping out every car clogging up the rush hour.

In front of the camera, Starbright looked almost admirable. Quiet and kind. At times, I wondered if his usual abrasive self was just a façade instead.

<Why are you staring?>

Starbright turned his gaze toward me.

“…Can’t I look?”

<I suppose you can. My superior form naturally draws the eyes of creatures. I’ll generously forgive you.>

“You’ve gotten quite full of yourself during filming lately. You know…”

Muttering, I folded my arms.

“Today during filming, you scared me a little.”

<Scared you?>

Starbright’s eyes widened slightly.

<Have you finally learned to fear me? It took you long enough. I am the King of Hell, yet you’ve been far too disrespectful. It’s not too late—kneel now, and I may forgive you.>

“That’s not what I meant. I mean…”

What scared me was how easily Starbright could flip between his true natures. He was equally adept at feigning evil and feigning good. But neither could truly be called his nature. I knew both his good and evil sides.

Starbright was a good being. He knew how to save creatures. I myself had received his help during CYB. Though he claimed it was simply for the sake of his own goals, I knew that wasn’t entirely true.

At the same time, Starbright was an evil being. He fully understood the wickedness in human society. His contemptuous attitude toward humanity was genuine. In fact, I knew he was holding back more than he let on. He would undoubtedly declare that this world was not worth existing.

A being capable of switching between such dualities at any time…

‘…So that’s why he’s the King of Hell.’

As I thought that, I watched him.

<Don’t get too hung up on the symbolism of Heaven and Hell.>

Starbright spoke in a flat tone.

<Heaven cannot exist without Hell, and Hell cannot exist without Heaven. They are simply spaces representing good and evil. Without good, there is no evil; without evil, there is no good.>

“I know that much.”

Not all angels cherish humans. After all, I nearly died at Enoch’s hands.

Then, perhaps not all demons are hostile to humans either. I didn’t know.

<You creatures are mere playthings existing between Heaven and Hell. Even beings weaker than me view you as utterly fragile.>

The traffic loosened.

The car glided forward smoothly.

<I do not believe every creature is important. None are born to be loved. Creatures are simply born to exist, to live. Nothing more. The world was made merely for gods to observe.>

I listened, gazing out the window.

The scene was chaotic. Between the crowds on the sidewalks and the buildings, spirits drifted. Murky, shifting figures intertwined with the blood-and-flesh living beings, creating a bizarre dissonance.

And then there were the streams of light.

Tiny grains of light floated skyward. Watching such a world for millennia would surely drive anyone mad.

<There are no useful creatures in this world.>

Even from my own body, tiny grains of light were rising.

<All creatures are made to die easily.>

I silently agreed with Starbright.

Humans can die at any moment. One could be struck by a falling flowerpot while walking. A child’s thrown brick could kill even a sturdy adult. A drowsy driver could plow into pedestrians at any time.

Humans are built that way.

I knew this.

“…Why did you want to do this program with me?”

I asked, still staring out the window with my back to him.

<You said during the interview that you wanted to say things you normally couldn’t.>

“I got the same question. So I just cursed you out.”

Of course, that was a lie.

<I said the same.>

That was probably a lie too.

<You… know I’m lying.>

Without looking at me, or perhaps deliberately avoiding my gaze, Starbright stared down the long road ahead.

<I said I wished for your happiness. But come to think of it, I’ve never said that before. Honestly, I don’t know what happiness is for creatures. I’ve never seen them truly happy. They smile, then cry or rage immediately after. Such is a creature’s life.>

So I thought about it, he said.

<What is happiness for you? Would winning the CYB world competition make you happy? Accumulating endless wealth? Acquiring things you desire? Building a family? Sexual gratification… no, probably not.>

With a bitter smile, Starbright ran a hand through his hair.

<Thus, I do not know how you might find happiness. I likely never will. If our contract lasts your lifetime, I’ll return to Hell after watching your lifeless face when you die. Then I’ll sit on my throne and briefly ponder: Was Ryu Eunyul’s life happy? Or unhappy? I’ll think about it for just a moment. And then, I’ll forget you.>

Starbright turned his gaze toward me.

<Your life is but a fleeting moment to me. Like the tick of a second hand. You are such a small existence, I wouldn’t even notice unless I consciously focused.>

Of course, I thought.

I was a tiny existence. Starbright had traversed the world as a being created by The Savior Who Is One and All, seeing countless beings like me.

My life was not special. No matter what heights I reached, I was just another creature. To me, Starbright was enormous. So enormous that I couldn’t even feel his presence as real. Like how a person’s leg might look like a towering building to an ant.

We could never fully understand each other.

No matter how much we tried, it was a fact that wouldn’t change.

“I…”

Scratching the back of my neck, I spoke.

“…said I wanted to thank you.”

<Thank me for what?>

“I don’t know. For everything, maybe.”

<That’s too easy an answer. Just as good and evil have two sides, saying everything makes it the same as saying you don’t know what you’re thankful for.>

“Maybe.”

<Both you and I are equally ignorant of each other.>

“…True.”

We fell silent for a while.

The engine’s hum filled the space. The trembling ride was annoying, and the scenery outside seemed endless.

<…I believe in belief.>

Suddenly, Starbright spoke.

<I don’t mean the belief that empowers constellations. Faith in gods demands something visible. They pray fervently, worship tongues they don’t understand, calling them divine. That’s not the kind of belief I mean.>

The unseen belief.

That’s what Starbright was speaking of.

<I may never understand your happiness, but I believe what you seek is something good. I believe it won’t be base or selfish.>

“I feel the same.”

It was embarrassing to say this, but…

I smiled and said.

“…I can’t point to exactly what I’m thankful for, but you’re someone I feel grateful toward.”

So powerful, vast, ancient beyond comprehension.

Even your true thoughts remain hidden.

I don’t know much about you.

But there is one thing I can say for sure.

Nothing grand. Just a fragment of emotion.

I can be thankful.

Perhaps because of that small belief.

We may never fully understand each other, but at least this much we know.