Rose Garden: Chapter 06

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Snair finished the garden chores Grandma had asked of him before noon. He hurried through lunch and grabbed the tweed jacket hanging by the front door.

“Off to Warren’s again, are you?”

When he turned around, Grandma was shrugging with an exasperated look.

“You sure are fond of that man’s house. I don’t mind you earning a little pocket money pulling weeds, but don’t you go breaking anything over there. And you must be home by evening.”

“Okayyy!”

Giving a loud reply, Snair bolted out the door. He didn’t hear the words Grandma muttered to his back as he ran, her voice laced with quiet worry: “Isn’t Warren a bit young to be filling in as a father?”

Snair ran along the country road that stretched out from the village. When he reached its edge, he stopped and turned onto the northern path, a trail only he could pass through. He loved this moment. It was a privilege reserved only for someone like him, a friend of Warren and Kyle.

The dusty brown path led toward a house with a tall brick wall. He started running again. The hill was covered in yellowed grass, and a sharp wind swept over it, whistling like a flute. His coat flapped wildly, threatening to fly off as he walked against the wind. At last, he reached the gate and pushed open the heavy iron door, slipping inside the wall.

“Hello!”

He knocked on the front door and called out, but there was no answer. Maybe... He stepped into the house, tiptoed through the living room, and quietly opened the door to the south room. A tuft of golden curls peeked out from the back of a rocking chair facing away from him. Snair crept forward, slowly, carefully.

Kyle, heaven’s angel on Earth was dozing in the chair, a blanket slipping off his lap as he breathed softly in his sleep. Around this time of day, Kyle was often napping. Warren worked every day except Sunday at the workshop in town, so Kyle’s days were usually peaceful and slow.

Snair had planned to watch that beautiful sleeping face a little longer, but as he took a step forward, the floor creaked faintly. Long golden lashes trembled, then lifted. Kyle’s eyes opened large and green, like they could swallow you whole and looked directly at him.

“Welcome.”

“Hi.”

They’d met many times before, but being stared at with those green eyes always made Snair’s heart race.

“If you were here, you could’ve woken me.”

Kyle gave a small yawn and stretched wide in the chair, then tilted his head gently.

“Wasn’t today a school day?”

“We’re on winter break. No more school until next month.”

“I see,” Kyle murmured, standing up and stepping out of the room. Snair waited in the chair, and soon Kyle returned with a tray holding cookies and herbal tea.

“Here you go.”

The moment he set them on the table, Snair swallowed hard. He’d just had lunch, but somehow still had room for more.

“Thanks for the food!”

He reached for a cookie, but Kyle quickly grabbed his hand with a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s wash our hands before we eat.”

With a soft smile like that, there was no way Snair could resist. He retracted his halfway-extended hand and obediently went to the sink. Then, practically flying back, he pounced on the waiting cookie. It was mixed with crushed nuts, delightfully crunchy, and irresistible.

“This is so good!”

He mumbled with his mouth still full, forgetting his manners.

“I’m glad.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed with warmth as he nodded.

“Did you make these, Kyle?”

“I don’t cook,” he said, as if that were only natural.

“Then Warren did?”

Kyle touched a finger to his cheek.

“Last night, I think. After dinner, he suddenly decided to bake some cookies. And this morning, before he left, he told me to give them to you if you came by.”

Snair reached for a second cookie and bit into it with a satisfying crunch.

"That's amazing. He knew I was coming. Warren really can do anything. He makes beautiful brooches, cooks delicious meals, and he's amazing at baking too. My grandma says sweets are bad for a child's body and never makes any, but honestly, she’s just not good at it. I wish I had a kind mom like Warren."

As Snair rambled on in excitement, he finally noticed the angel’s expression gradually clouding. Uh-oh, he thought. Kyle never liked it when Warren came up.

“True, he’s good with his hands, but that’s just because he uses magic. If he really wanted, he could whip things up in an instant.”

Kyle pouted, lips slightly pursed in a sulky expression.

“But Warren hardly ever uses magic. He said demons’ magic is the kind that takes things from people, so he can’t use it.”

Kyle bit down on his beautiful, red lips and turned away in frustration. Wanting to cheer up the annoyed angel, Snair dragged a chair beside the rocking chair and took Kyle’s delicate white hand in his own.

“Hey, Kyle. I want to hear more about the heavens.”

Kyle turned his gaze back toward him, though his green eyes still held a trace of sulkiness.

“It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it? They say everyone who believes in God goes there. I think… maybe my mom and dad are there too. Maybe you’ve even met them?”

Kyle's fingers gently stroked Snair’s head.

“The place where human souls dwell is even higher than the 'heavens' where we angels live. We angels live in a realm a little lower, and the only time we meet souls is when we come to take them up. I may have met your parents, but hundreds of souls are called up each day. Even if I did, I probably wouldn’t remember. But if your parents were devout believers, then I’m sure they’re now living happily in the higher realm.”

Snair narrowed his eyes like a cat, soothed by the angel’s gentle touch.

“In those ‘heavens,’ are there lots of angels like you?”

“There are many, but even in the heavens, the number of angels is fixed. And each angel has their own personality no two are the same. We also have ranks.”

“Ranks?”

Snair tilted his head, and Kyle let out a small chuckle.

“Angels are divided into twenty ranks according to the strength of their power, with the Archangels at the top.”

“Whoa, I didn’t know that.”

As he continued to stroke Snair’s hair, Kyle lifted his gaze toward the ceiling with dreamy eyes.

“I used to serve the highest-ranking Archangel in heaven Lady Agatha.”

At the words highest-ranking, Snair nodded in awe. He’d always suspected Kyle must be incredibly important someone so beautiful surely had to be.

“You really are an amazing angel, Kyle.”

Startled by the compliment, Kyle lowered his gaze and tightened his hold on Snair’s hand.

“I only served Lady Agatha. I myself am not a high-ranking angel.”

His voice was small, almost embarrassed. As if shaking off that self-effacing mood, Kyle suddenly lifted his head with renewed energy.

“But being chosen to serve Archangel Agatha is a tremendous honor. Normally, such attendants are chosen from the highest-ranking angels, yet she personally selected me. Knowing that someone as modest as I was seen, truly seen by her made me incredibly happy. In the beginning, people whispered behind my back and treated me poorly, saying I wasn’t suited for the role. But even so, I chose to serve her.”

Whenever Kyle spoke the name Lady Agatha, his face lit up with pride. He would go on to praise her beauty, her power as an angel, and her kindness with unrestrained admiration. It was clear to Snair, even just from listening, how much Kyle had loved that Archangel.

"Lady Agatha was truly the most beautiful angel. Her hair shimmered like golden silk threads, and her eyes were sapphire, as if the blue of the ocean had been melted into them. She had the gentlest smile. But what made her extraordinary wasn't just her appearance it was her kindness and deep compassion. As an angel, her power was said to be the greatest among all the Archangels. Compared to her, someone like me, who can only make flowers bloom, doesn't even come close."

Even hearing about this Archangel he’d never seen, Snair found himself more curious about the beautiful angel sitting right in front of him.

"So you can make flowers bloom, Kyle?"

With pride, Kyle gave a firm nod.

"Not anymore, since I’ve lost my power. But back then, I used to cover the entire area around Lady Agatha’s castle with roses. Ever since I became her attendant, roses always bloomed around her castle, and people started calling it ‘The Castle of Roses.’ Lady Agatha was very pleased about that."

Snair pictured a grand, white castle surrounded by vivid roses in every shade of red and pink.

"I want to see it too! I really want to see it!"

He clung to Kyle with a pleading whine, and Kyle responded with a soft laugh, gently patting his head.

"Humans can’t be shown the celestial castle. If I still had my power, I could’ve at least made some flowers bloom in the garden just for you…"

Those white hands pulled him close. Kyle’s chest always carried the faint, comforting scent of sweet milk. I wonder if my mother, the one I can’t even remember, smelled like this too. That thought brought a bittersweet ache to Snair’s chest, and he clutched tightly at the hem of Kyle’s white robe.

"You’re such a clingy little thing," came the gentle voice by his ear.

"A sweet, adorable little one."

Snair wrapped his arms around Kyle’s neck and placed a kiss on his soft cheek.

"I love you."

There were no words that could truly express how deeply he felt it but words were all he had. Frustrated that he couldn’t fully convey it, he pressed his face hard into that milk-scented chest. Kyle was so kind, so beautiful, like a mother. But Snair loved Warren just as much. He loved that lonely demon dearly.

"Why do you hate Warren, Kyle?"

He knew it would sour Kyle’s mood, but he couldn’t help asking. He had visited this house countless times, yet never once seen the two speak to each other. He was always between them. Sometimes Warren tried to speak, but Kyle would never respond pretending not to hear.

Snair kept telling himself they must get along, since they lived together. But each time something happened, he was forced to admit the truth. Watching Kyle ignore Warren so blatantly, even Snair couldn’t help but feel hurt.

"That demon took everything from me. I will never forgive him."

The voice, once so indulgent, now came sharp and cold. Kyle wouldn’t even speak Warren’s name.

"But Warren’s kind. He…”

Snair’s words were cut off.

"He’s a demon. No matter how gentle he acts now, one day he’ll reveal his true, wicked nature to you."

Kyle furrowed his brow in visible displeasure and sighed.

"Let me tell you what that demon really is. The first time I met him was in Lady Agatha’s ‘Castle of Roses,’ high above in the heavens."

Snair tilted his head. Warren had told him they first met in the forest of Oliva. Which story was the truth? He wanted to ask, but Warren had begged him not to tell Kyle that he’d shared anything about his past. So Snair kept his lips pressed tightly shut and stayed quiet.

"It was a hundred years ago now. That demon came, bold as anything, to take the test to become an angel."

Snair was stunned by Kyle’s story. He hadn’t known anything about the exam. The only thing Warren had told him was that Kyle had made beautiful flowers bloom around the graves of the human grandparents who had raised him. That was it. Snair had wanted to know more, but he’d already arrived home by then. Later, he tried several times to ask Warren to continue the story, but he would only say, “When you’re a little older…” and refused to go further.

Kyle gave a small shrug and shook his head in exasperation.

"It was the first attempt of its kind in Heaven. Instead of angels born from angel eggs, the idea was to see if even someone from another race, if they were gifted enough, could be granted the title of angel. And that demon had the audacity to apply. An angelic examination. Even if the rules stated that race didn’t matter, the idea of a demon taking the test, a demon was completely unprecedented. It threw Heaven into an uproar. But once they’d publicly declared ‘all races welcome,’ they couldn’t go back on it. So that demon was allowed to take the test."

Kyle repeated over and over how ridiculous it all was, but to Snair, it didn’t sound so outrageous. Warren had been raised by humans, he was kind and had a just heart. For someone like him to dream of becoming an angel, even if he wasn’t human, felt perfectly natural.

"And yet that demon made it through the second round and advanced to the final test."

"Then he must’ve studied really hard!" Snair said cheerfully.

But Kyle shot that down immediately.

"Don’t be ridiculous. He’s a demon. There’s no way he passed by honest means. He must’ve cheated. That’s why it was only right that he failed the final test."

"He didn’t pass…" Snair murmured.

"Of course not!" Kyle snapped, thrusting his white fingers into his golden curls and raking them through roughly.

"I’m glad he didn’t pass. Just imagining that black, twisted form among the angels makes me sick. I’m sure every angel in Heaven felt the same way."

Unable to bear it, Snair tugged gently on the hem of Kyle’s robe.

"Why is it so bad for him to have a demon’s appearance?"

"Because things like that are made to be unpleasant to look at. It’s in their nature."

"But the priest said that as long as we keep our faith in God, it doesn’t matter what we look like God doesn’t judge appearances."

Kyle’s expression shifted. His eyes darted away uncomfortably, as if cornered.

"Humans and demons are different. There’s no such thing as a faithful demon."

"That’s not something you can really know. Maybe even in a demon’s body, someone could have faith in God."

Kyle’s face went pale in a flash.

"I’ll tell you why that demon failed the final exam. Right in front of the Archangel Agatha, no less, he told a lie. Can you imagine? He lied to the emissary of God herself. That’s the kind of creature he is."

"Maybe… maybe he had a reason."

Kyle’s hand fell away from him in an instant. It was a cold, unforgiving gesture, and it pushed Snair off his lap.

"All you’ve done is defend that demon since earlier. Why? He’s evil. He’s done terrible things. Are you really still going to defend him? Can’t you trust a word I say, even though I’m an angel?"

Kyle’s anger wounded Snair. The hand he reached out with, seeking some kind of connection, was met only with a cold glance and left hanging.

"But Warren… Warren likes you. He wants to be your friend."

Kyle clutched his shoulders, trembling.

"Friends with a demon… How horrifying. That’s a sin. Are you telling me I should burn for eternity in the fires of sin?"

Snair didn’t understand what Kyle meant. So he simply asked.

"If you love a demon, do you go to Hell? Does that mean me loving Warren is a sin too?"

"You’re different. You’re human. Not like me…"

Pressed by Snair’s innocent questions, Kyle’s voice grew quieter and quieter.

“But you said being friends with Warren is wrong, that it’s something I shouldn’t do,” Snair insisted. “But I like Warren. And I’ve never forgotten about God.”

Kyle looked completely at a loss, his mouth slightly open in distress.

“Even if Warren did something bad… if he feels sorry about it and regrets it, isn’t he allowed to be forgiven? Why is it okay for humans but not for demons?”

“Because… because he’s a demon…”

“So even if a demon admits their sins, they still can’t be forgiven?”

Kyle furrowed his brow, his expression becoming pensive.

“I don’t know… In general, demons have always been considered evil, and that’s never really been wrong. Whether or not a repentant demon can be forgiven that’s a complicated question. It’s not something a low-ranking angel like me could ever answer.”

I knew it, Snair thought. Kyle had said he didn’t know.

“Who decides what’s good and what’s bad, then?”

“That would be the archangels,” Kyle replied without hesitation.

“Then… is Warren a bad person?”

Kyle fell silent and bit his lip hard, frustration twisting his features. Then, all at once, his expression crumpled, and a single tear like a pearl spilled down his cheek. Alarmed, Snair rushed to apologize.

“Kyle, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry…”

He clung to Kyle’s soft neck.

“Please don’t be so cruel to me…”

Kyle whispered faintly, and more tears slipped down his cheeks one after another. Snair didn’t know what had hurt Kyle so deeply, but he held the weeping angel tightly in his arms.

He wanted Kyle to understand Warren. Warren had once said that Kyle knew nothing about him and that he himself knew nothing about Kyle, except that he had once been the guardian angel of flowers. After nearly a hundred years of living together, not knowing each other at all that was what seemed strange. If Kyle could just come to know Warren, Snair was sure they could get along. He truly believed that.

But Warren had begged him not to tell Kyle about his painful past about the time he had pretended to be human because it was so sad that it kept Snair awake at night. When Snair had asked why, Warren had smiled and said, “Because I don’t want to be pitied.” Snair didn’t really understand why sharing one’s sorrow should be seen as begging for pity, but the promise had been made. And so, Snair couldn’t tell Kyle anything about Warren.

He couldn’t break the promise he had made to the half-demon, half-human.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Time always seemed to slow down after Snair left. Without that bright, sun-like child around, Kyle would feel a subtle, chilly draft pass through his heart, as if something had been hollowed out inside him.

Like a clingy kitten, the boy would pounce on him, only to turn around and scold him in a strangely grown-up tone. That childlike purity sometimes troubled Kyle so deeply it almost brought him to tears.

As the sun faded and the south-facing room began to grow cold, Kyle draped a white stole over his shoulders and moved to the living room with a book of poetry in hand. He lit a fire in the hearth, which had been pre-stacked with twigs and dried grass. The crackling of thin branches filled the room as he warmed his chilled fingertips by the flame. Even if plunged into ice or engulfed in fire, his body would not decay. But he could still feel pain. Ever since he lost his angelic power, his senses had become frighteningly sensitive. He had begun to feel hunger something he had never experienced in the heavens. At first, he had resented that, but now he simply accepted it as the way things were.

He hadn’t noticed how dark the room had become while he was crouched by the fire. Rising to his feet, he brought the lamp from the corner table and lit it.

A few of the sweets Warren had made, leftover from Snair’s visit remained on the table. Kyle picked up the plate with the intention of throwing them away, but the memory of the boy happily devouring them stopped him. He plucked up one of the square treats and brought it to his nose. Though it had been made by a demon’s hand, there was no trace of a curse. The pastry gave off no demonic scent.

He placed a piece in his mouth. It broke with a crisp snap, and the soft aroma of butter and gentle sweetness bloomed on his tongue. It wasn’t the first time he had tasted human food, but the experience was as sweet and stirring as reading a book of love poems.

Unable to resist, he took another. He knew human food could not fill his hunger or nourish him, but he still relished its texture and flavor. After emptying the plate, he carefully wiped his mouth with his sleeve, so there would be no trace of indulgence left behind. Still uneasy, he stepped in front of the mirror in the corner of the room.

There he saw the angel once rumored to be the very child of the goddess of beauty.

He touched a lock of his soft, pale golden curls. Skin like milk, green eyes reflecting a forest of new leaves, lips red and full like a budding rose. Just looking at his own reflection, Kyle could feel himself growing entranced. There were even those, bold as they were, who had once dared to say he was more beautiful than Lady Agatha herself.

But that was all long ago.

Kyle lowered his green eyes and sat down in the rocking chair in the living room. With the poetry book resting on his knees, he gazed around the small, grimy room and once again counted the stains on the walls, stains he had already counted more times than he could remember.

He could never have imagined himself like this. He had never dreamed things would turn out this way.

A hundred years ago, back in the heavens, those distant days began to drift vaguely through Kyle’s mind.

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