That night wasn't an ordinary night.
The bar was alive. The room was filled with the strong scent of alcohol, laughter, and murmurs of secret. Each wave escaping from the stereo throbbed through the walls, vibrating like a heartbeat along with the restless energy of the crowd. It rose and fell like angry waves beneath the dim neon glow, electric and unpredictable.
Then there was Elio, busy doing his best despite the growing tiredness, serving customers in the background.
"Elio, table ten! Hurry up!"
"On it!"
His breath became shallower and labored as he put pressure on his body to move back and forth in the crowd, holding a tray of liquors and glasses. After that, he wiped down the counter, ignoring how his fingers trembled and how the liquor bottles sometimes blurred his vision. He'd already given up one of his part-time jobs to ensure he didn't push himself past his limits. The nightclub was different, though. He cannot give up the job. Aside from the fact that it pays well, the music, the lights, and the crowd kept him grounded and unseen of his pain.
But something would change the usual course of the night.
A man entered the nightclub, a briefcase in hand. He was tall, seemingly intelligent, and had some kind of presence that stood out. He wore a fine black business suit and a reading glass perfectly perched on his nose.
Elio's gut twisted when he saw the man. He noticed that the man kept scanning the crowd as if looking for someone.
Loan sharks?
No, this man was different. He never saw this man before. Still, his instinct told him to hide. But when he saw the stranger settle at the bar, something told him to entertain him instead.
Despite hesitation, Elio went to the area where the man settled and asked him, just like what he usually does to a regular customer.
"Do you want something, sir?" he asked. Nervously but politely.
"Oh! You must be Elio, aren't you?"
Elio was stunned. This man knew his name, causing him to grip his clothes tightened. So many thoughts were racing in his mind.
"Y--you know me?"
The man smiled.
"I'm so sorry; I should have introduced myself before asking you. By the way, Henry Goldsmith at your service." he reached his hand towards Elio, initiating a handshake. "I'm a businessman visiting the city, checking in on my growing investments."
"N--nice to meet you...Mr. Goldsmith." Elio shook the offered hand, but the firm grip from this man sent a brief surge of discomfort into his arm.
"I, uh...may I know your business with me? Was I...somehow involved in one of your businesses in the past?
Henry softly smiled. He seems like he was enjoying Elio's reaction in secret. "Not surprising. I tend to keep a low profile for my businesses. But rest assured, I'm one of the few who believes in long-term growth, not those quick wins." He paused, eyeing Elio's confused and conscious look. "But I am here because my assistant told me you are quite special, and I'd like to know more about you."
Special?
Elio was quite surprised the moment the man spits those words.
Special?
Elio was sure he was not the type of person that would attract anyone's attention, so either this person was messing up with him. But there was more to this "Henry Goldsmith" that made him uncomfortable.
"I think you're having some kind of a mistake here, sir. I'm not special; I'm just an ordinary staff here."
"I'm sure you do...trust me." Then he pats his side, offering Elio to sit alongside him. "If you're not so busy, can we talk briefly?"
But before Elio could react and answer, another presence slid into the conversation.
Another unexpected guest...
It was Grimm.
"Wait, Grimm?"
The man moved with an effortless, almost predatory grace. His presence was undeniable, and Elio felt the tension in the air growing thicker. Grimm's expression was unreadable if Henry's smile had been smooth and polished. It speaks everything. It speaks rage. His silver eyes were sharp as if he were constantly calculating everything around him.
Elio interrupted Grimm, trying to make sense of everything around him.
"What are you doing? Why are you here?"
Grimm's full attention turned to Elio, but he did not immediately give an answer. More silence stretched between them as if Grimm was trying to calculate the right choice of words and weighed everything before he could respond.
Mr. Goldsmith was having a good time observing the interaction between the two with a calm expression as if he was watching an exciting drama going on live. He was also entertained by the way Grimm handled the situation. He wanted to see more, so he stayed.
Finally, Grimm spoke, his voice low and steady, cutting through the tension between them.
"Elio, why don't you grab us some drinks, please?"
It wasn't a request. It was a demand. A silent warning. Grimm's gaze never wavered from Elio, unblinking, as if he was expecting him to act and not ask nor object.
Although hesitant and confused about everything happening, Elio understood the message and responded, "Well then, please excuse me." Then he nodded and went behind the bar to grab the drinks that were asked of him.
Mr. Goldsmith--no, Death--sighed as if Grimm's defiance was both an inconvenience and an entertainment at the same time. "I'm impressed that you knew I'd be coming here for a surprise visit. You must like that boy so much to the point of showing yourself out in public, trying to stop me from doing my job."
Grimm settles himself calmly. He sat on the front seat facing Death without fear. "You shouldn't be here, Death."
Death didn't waver. He gave off the aura of a businessman trying to close a deal with a demanding customer rather than the aura of an Archangel devouring the souls of both the blessed and the cursed.
"I came because I was informed that a particular person may potentially disrupt the natural balance. This person wasn't aware of his gift yet, so I might as well handle it myself before it ended in a disaster. After all, you cannot handle this case alone.
Grimm's voice darkened along with the heaviness forming between them. "Elio is not a threat."
"For now." Death's reply sounded like a move in a chess match. Grimm felt a slight defeat.
"Let me ask you, how many of these similar anomalies ended up good?"
Grimm did not reply.
"See? No one. That's why we have protocols for them. Sooner or later, he will discover his gift. People down there will find him interesting, causing more chaos on our side. You want that?"
Silence stretched as Grimm was trying to look for a solution.
"Tell me," Death broke the silence between them again, "You've been watching him the moment you realized his oddness, haven't you? Trying to understand him? Trying to help him? Now that I think about it, he reminds me of someone I know from your past. They are somehow...similar if you ask me."
Grimm did not respond again. That only proves Death's hunch from the very beginning.
"Are you trying to redeem yourself by helping that boy?"
Grimm's hand curled into a fist.
"I am not..." He replied, finally, after all the silence. "What happened in the past has nothing to do with Elio. He's..." Grimm's train of thought was suddenly cut off by his feelings for Elio, trying to justify that it has nothing to do with his feelings for someone he encountered in the past. He successfully suppressed a hidden backstory for so long that he almost considered it non-existent. Still, that distant regret was hindering his justification to help Elio.
Is it truly about helping him, or is something deeper at play?
Then, Death spoke again. But this time, his voice was final. "I'm so sorry, Grimm. As much as I wanted to help that poor soul, there was no way to help him. You know that from the very beginning. But there's only one solution for this--he must be eliminated."
Grimm, however, did not yield to the suggestion. "No."
Death sighed as he shook his head. "You really like to make this hard for both of us, do you?"
"Regardless, I won't let you harm him..." Grimm's response was final and firm as if no one, even Death himself could ever shake that finality in his words, and between those lines, he firmly believes that Elio is worth saving, even if Death does not think otherwise.
"Then, prove me wrong." Death's response ringed like a challenge, almost like a dare. "Show me that this boy is not a threat. Otherwise, I will ensure he no longer walks among the living or the dead..."
"I will," Grimm's voice was sure and unwavering as he met Death's gaze. Death, in response, looked at Grimm, searching for something, anything, in his expression.
He saw it.
Determination.
Grimm was going to fight for Elio.
Even against Death itself.
Death seemed to take a long, slow breath after what he saw. He can't argue with someone whose mind was already set in stone anymore.
"Very well," Death finally spoke; the finality in his words was undeniable. He stood up, grabbed his briefcase, and left his final words, "Then I will watch. If you like to play this dangerous game, then I won't stop you from doing that. After all, it's yours to play, not mine. We shall see how long you can play this game and how long your resolve lasts..."
Grimm might say more for a moment, but then, he realized there was no more to be said. He remained in his seat, silent but not defeated. Death had stepped back, but Grimm knew the consequences of his defiance were far from over.
Death did not wait for Elio's return. He just turned and walked away.
Not long after Death left the nightclub, Elio stepped in, holding a tray of drinks. His expression at that time was a mixture of confusion and curiosity, just like the look of a person in the middle of an unfamiliar situation.
"Grimm?" Elio's voice was unsure. He doesn't have any idea what happened while he was away. "What happened? Is everything okay? By the way, where's Mr. Goldsmith? Did he leave?"
Grimm met Elio's gaze. The young man had no idea what had happened or the shadow looming over them.
Grimm sighed as he considered his response. Every word must be carefully weighed before he lets the words escape his lips.
"It's kind of complicated, but..." Grimm began, his voice low but steady. "...you don't have to worry about it right now. Everything will be fine."
"You sure?" Elio was unsure, his brow furrowed. He set the tray on the nearest table and sat beside him, sensing how tense the older man looked. "Something happened, isn't it? Tell me..."
Grimm exhaled as he leaned back on the couch.
"You probably have a million questions in your mind right now. But I believe it would be difficult to understand..."
"Then, try me. Tell me everything." Grimm's heart slightly tightened the moment he heard it from Elio. His words were heavier than any action he had taken before. Elio didn't understand the full extent of what was at stake. And it was better that he didn't know everything. But Grimm knew one thing: the challenge he had just accepted wasn't just against Death—it was against everything that stood in the way of Elio's future.
He did not respond to Elio. Instead, he sighed. He felt the heaviness in his heart already taking its toll, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He unconsciously leaned against Elio's shoulders, his voice almost a whisper, filled with tenderness... nearly unrecognizable.
"May I?"
Elio was stunned and froze in his seat. He couldn't bring himself to pull Grimm away. His presence was so close it filled his senses. He can sense the heaviness in his breath brushing against his skin, close to his face...his smell...his heart pounding--it was more than just physical proximity, making Elio more fragile than ever.
Still clearly confused, Elio raised his hand and reached to Grimm's head, allowing the man to lean more on his shoulder. He gently caressed his hand on the soft strands of Grimm's hair, a simple touch that felt like an anchor, a grounding force in a storm he could not control. His heart can't handle the fact that he wants more than this physical touch. He wanted to be emotionally connected to Grimm and more than that. But he can't allow his selfishness to take over. Grimm needs someone...he needs him, and he can feel it.
"I don't know what happened, but I'll still trust. If you don't want to tell me, tell me everything when you think it's time..."
The sincerity in Elio's words—his unwavering belief in Grimm, even without understanding the full extent of what was at stake—was an open space for him to breathe. It felt like a weight being lifted from his arms, even a little.
And for the first time, Grimm allowed himself to feel something other than fear or responsibility.
It was peace.