"What happened?" Junjao's voice came out small and shaky. "I don't…I was on the motorcycle and then…" Her eyes darted to the ambulance, to the paramedics loading a stretcher. "Is that…is that me?"
Ruj followed her gaze. The paramedics were working frantically, one of them calling out vital signs that didn't sound promising. The girl on the stretcher, Junjao's body, looked small and broken in a way that made something tighten in Ruj's chest.
"Yes," he said simply. There was no kind way to say it.
Junjao wrapped her arms around herself, even though as a soul she probably couldn't feel cold. "But if that's me, then I'm..." She looked down at her translucent hands, turning them over slowly. "I'm dead."
"It's more complicated than that."
"How can being dead be complicated?" Her voice pitched higher. "You either are or you aren't, and I'm standing here looking at my own body, so I think the answer is pretty clear!" She was breathing fast or doing whatever the soul equivalent of breathing was. "Oh god. Oh god. This is real. This is actually happening."
Ruj had seen this reaction thousands of times. Panic, denial, the slow horrified acceptance. He'd learned to be patient, to let people process at their own pace.
But he'd never seen someone panic while still technically alive.
"You need to calm down," he said, keeping his voice level. "I know this is frightening, but…"
"Frightening?" Junjao let out a slightly hysterical laugh. "I watch ghost stories every night and I couldn't even handle those. And now I'm…I'm…" She looked at him properly for the first time, really looked at him. Her eyes widened. "You're him. You're the one who comes. The…what's the word…Yommatoot? The grim reaper?"
"I prefer Soul Transferring Officer."
"Oh my god." Her eyes were filling with tears now. "Oh my god, you're here to take me. That's what this is. You're…" She dropped to her knees on the sidewalk, right there in the middle of the chaos, and clasped her hands together in a wai. "Please. Please, I'm not ready. I know everyone says that, but I really, really am not ready. I'm only twenty-one. I haven't…I've barely done anything. I've never even left Thailand. I was too scared to do the job I studied for. I don't have a boyfriend. I've never been in love. I still live alone and eat instant noodles for dinner and…"
She was crying now, actual tears streaming down her translucent face. Ruj felt profoundly uncomfortable. Forty years of this job and crying souls still made him want to be anywhere else.
"Please," Junjao whispered. "I'll be good. I'll do better. Just…please don't take me yet."
"I'm not…" Ruj started, but movement caught his eye. Uncle Charan's soul was walking over, looking between them with confusion and concern.
"Nong Junjao?" Uncle Charan's voice was gentle. He crouched down beside her, and Ruj noted that he'd already accepted his death with remarkable grace. Some people were like that. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault. If I'd been more careful, if I'd seen that car…"
"Uncle?" Junjao looked up, her face streaked with tears. "You can see me too?"
"Of course I can see you. We're the same now." Uncle Charan smiled sadly. "Both on our way to the next place."
"I don't want to go to the next place!"
"I know, I know." He patted her shoulder, his hand passed through slightly but the gesture was there. "But this young man, he'll take care of us. Won't you?" He looked up at Ruj expectantly.
Ruj felt the weight of both their gazes. He needed to do his job. Uncle Charan needed to be processed, and Junjao, well, Junjao needed something, though he still wasn't sure what.
"Wait here," he told Junjao, making his voice as calm and authoritative as possible. "Don't move. Don't try to follow your body. Just…stay."
"Where are you going?" Panic crept back into her voice.
"I'm taking Uncle Charan to be processed. It's standard procedure. I'll come back for you."
"You promise?"
It was such a small, scared question. Ruj found himself nodding before he could think better of it. "I promise."
He helped Uncle Charan to his feet, another unnecessary gesture for souls, but humans liked the familiarity. He raised his hand, feeling for the fabric of space, and opened a portal. The air shimmered, tearing open to reveal a glimpse of the office lobby.
"Cool," Uncle Charan said, sounding impressed despite everything.
They stepped through.
The office felt different when you brought someone through who'd just died violently. Uncle Charan looked around with wide eyes, taking in the modern tech-meets-cozy-workspace aesthetic.
"This is... not what I expected," he said.
"Nobody expects it," Mint said cheerfully from her desk. She was already pulling up forms, her fingers flying across her keyboard. "Welcome to The After, Bangkok office. You must be…" she glanced at her screen, "...Mr. Charan Pattanakul. Motorcycle taxi driver, sixty-two years old. I'm so sorry for your loss. Which is yourself. Which is always a bit awkward to say."
"Mint," Ruj cut in. "I need to speak with Pratya immediately. This is a priority situation."
Mint's professional smile faltered. "Okay, that's not a phrase you use often. He's in his office. I'll let him know you're coming. Mr. Charan, if you'll just take a seat"
"What about Nong Junjao?" Uncle Charan asked, looking back at the closing portal. "The girl. She was so scared."
"I'm going back for her," Ruj said. "She's... complicated."
He left Uncle Charan with Mint and strode toward Pratya's office, his watch still glitching intermittently on his wrist.
Pratya was standing when Ruj entered, his usual jovial expression replaced with focused attention. "Tell me everything."
Ruj explained quickly, the partial separation, the thread connecting soul to body, the coma state, the fact that Junjao could see and interact as if she were dead while technically still being alive.
Pratya listened, his expression growing more serious with each detail. When Ruj finished, he was quiet for a long moment.
"In over a century of doing this job," Pratya finally said, "I've never encountered anything like this. Souls don't separate from living bodies. That's not how the system works."
"I know."
"But she's there. Partially separated. Still tethered." Pratya pulled up multiple screens, typing rapidly. "Her body is in critical condition. The medical team is working on her but…" he paused, reading. "...not optimistic. Severe head trauma. They're calling her family now."
Ruj felt that uncomfortable tightness in his chest again. "What do I do?"
"Bring her here," Pratya said decisively. "If her soul is separated enough to see you, to see other souls, then she's in our jurisdiction even if she's not technically dead. We can't just leave her wandering around an accident site."
"And then what?"
"And then we figure it out. Together." Pratya looked at him seriously. "This is unprecedented territory, Ruj. We'll have to make it up as we go."
Ruj nodded. He turned to leave, but Pratya called after him.
"And Ruj? Be gentle with this one. She's stuck between two worlds. That's got to be terrifying."
When Ruj stepped back through the portal to the accident site, he found Junjao exactly where he'd left her, crouched on the sidewalk, hugging her knees, staring at the now-empty street. The ambulance was gone. The police were finishing up. The morning commuters had moved on with their lives.
"They took my body away," she said without looking up. "I watched them put me in the ambulance. There was so much blood." Her voice was flat, emotionless. "Is that what I look like? When I'm not, you know, translucent and dead?"
"Yes."
"I always thought I was pretty. In a plain way. But lying there like that, I just looked..." She trailed off. "Small. Unimportant. Like my whole life could fit in that ambulance and nobody would really notice it was gone."
Ruj didn't know what to say to that. He'd seen thousands of bodies, witnessed countless deaths. But he'd never been good with the existential grief that came after.
"You need to come with me," he said instead.
"To the afterlife." She finally looked up at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed but dry now, all cried out. "To be judged. Like in all the stories."
"Something like that. But Junjao…" He hesitated, unsure how much to tell her. "...your case is unusual. We need to bring you to our office to understand what's happening."
"Your office." She let out a weak laugh. "Death has an office. Of course it does. Is there paperwork? Please tell me there's paperwork. That would be so absurdly mundane it might actually make this whole thing feel less like a nightmare."
"There's paperwork."
"Great. Perfect. I die in a motorcycle accident and I still have to deal with bureaucracy." She stood up slowly, her movements uncertain. "Will it hurt? When you take me?"
"No. It's just transportation."
"Like the BTS but for dead people."
Despite everything, Ruj almost smiled. "Something like that."
He opened the portal again, the air shimmering between dimensions. Junjao stared at it with wide eyes.
"That's so cool," she whispered. "Also terrifying. But mostly cool." She looked at him. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad is this going to be?"
"The portal?"
"Death. The afterlife. All of it."
Ruj thought about Pratya's Hawaiian shirts and shot glass collection, about Mint's cheerful efficiency and Kiet's nervous energy, about the bean bags and ping pong table and the fact that death was apparently run like a startup company.
"It's not what you'd expect," he said finally.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
Junjao took a deep breath, another unnecessary gesture for a soul, and stepped toward the portal. "Okay. Okay. I can do this. I've watched hundreds of ghost story videos. I know all about the afterlife. There's probably a judge, and weighing of karma, and maybe I'll have to cross a river or something?"
"Actually…"
"...and I should be polite and respectful and definitely not make eye contact with any vengeful spirits"
"Junjao"
"...and if I see a light I should probably go toward it unless it's a trap, which according to 'Pee Mai Mee Jing' episode forty-seven, lights can definitely be traps"
"Most of what you've learned from YouTube is wrong," Ruj interrupted.
She stopped her rambling and looked at him. "Really?"
"Really."
"Oh." She processed this. "That's actually kind of a relief. Some of those episodes were really disturbing."
She stepped through the portal.
The transition was instantaneous and disorienting. Junjao stumbled as she emerged into the office lobby, and Ruj caught her elbow to steady her, his hand connected with surprising solidity. She looked down at where he touched her, then up at him, then around at the office.
Her mouth fell open.
"This is..." She turned in a slow circle, taking in everything. The exposed brick and modern art. The standing desks and comfortable seating areas. The plants and the coffee bar and…"Is that a ping pong table?"
"Yes."
"I'm dead and there's a ping pong table in the afterlife."
"You're not dead," Ruj corrected automatically. "You're in critical condition. Your soul has partially separated from your body due to the trauma, but you're still alive."
Junjao stared at him. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Sawadee ka!" Mint appeared beside them with her bright smile. "You must be Junjao! Welcome to The After, Bangkok office. Don't worry, you're in excellent hands. I'm Mint, head receptionist. Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Oh wait, souls don't actually need, well, we have them anyway if you want some."
"I'm not dead?" Junjao was still staring at Ruj.
"It's complicated," Ruj said.
"You keep saying that!"
"Because it keeps being true."
"Okay, okay." Junjao pressed her hands to her temples. "Let me get this straight. I was in an accident. My body is in an ambulance going to a hospital. But my soul is here. In an office. That looks like where I'd want to work if I weren't, you know, possibly dying. And there's a ping pong table."
"That's accurate," Mint confirmed cheerfully.
"And you…" Junjao pointed at Ruj, "...are not here to judge my sins and send me to hell or rebirth or wherever?"
"That's Pratya's job. I just collect and transfer."
"Who's Pratya?"
"My boss. He wants to meet you."
"Your boss. Right. Cool. Cool cool cool." Junjao was spiraling. Ruj could see it happening. "I'm having a mental breakdown in the afterlife. This is fine. Everything is fine."
"Maybe you should sit down," Mint suggested gently.
"Sitting. Yes. I can do sitting." Junjao let Mint guide her toward the waiting area, where several other souls sat in various states of adjustment. And there, in one of the comfortable chairs, was Uncle Charan.
He waved at her.
Junjao stopped walking. Her eyes went very wide. "Uncle Charan is here."
"Yes," Ruj said. "I told you I was taking him to be processed."
"But he's…and I'm…and this is…" Junjao's eyes rolled back.
Ruj moved fast, catching her before she could hit the ground. Except souls didn't really faint because they didn't have blood pressure or brains that could lose oxygen. So what Junjao actually did was more like a complete mental shutdown, her form flickering slightly as consciousness temporarily left her.
"Is she okay?" Uncle Charan hurried over, looking worried.
"She fainted," Ruj said, adjusting his hold on Junjao's surprisingly solid form.
"Can souls faint?" Mint asked, fascinated.
"Apparently yes."
"Well," said a cheerful voice from behind them, "this is already the most interesting case I've had all year, and it's only Monday!"
Ruj turned to see Pratya approaching, his Hawaiian shirt today featuring bright yellow pineapples. His expression was equal parts amused and intrigued.
"Is she out cold?" Pratya asked, peering at Junjao's unconscious face. "No pun intended. Actually, entirely pun intended."
"She saw Uncle Charan and her brain or soul or whatever couldn't handle it," Ruj explained.
"Poor thing." Pratya's voice softened with genuine sympathy. "Bring her to my office. We need to examine her case properly. And someone get Uncle Charan some tea. He's been very patient."
Ruj carried Junjao through the office, she weighed almost nothing, the way souls usually did, but there was still that strange solidity to her that other souls lacked. That thread connecting her to life, he supposed.
Pratya's office looked exactly the same as always: comfortable chaos, shot glasses everywhere, too many screens, one very large desk. Pratya gestured to the couch, a new addition, deep green velvet and probably very comfortable.
"Set her there. Let's see what we're dealing with."
Ruj placed Junjao gently on the couch. She was starting to come around, her eyelids fluttering.
"Wha..." she mumbled.
"Easy," Pratya said, his voice warm and fatherly. "You're okay. Well, relatively speaking. You're in my office. I'm Pratya. I'm the judge here, which sounds scary but I promise I'm not. Look, I have shot glasses!" He gestured proudly at his collection. "That one's from Pattaya. And that one's from…"
"I died," Junjao interrupted weakly, "and the judge of the afterlife collects tourist shot glasses."
"Life and death is full of surprises!" Pratya beamed. "Speaking of which, you're our first ever partially-dead-but-mostly-alive visitor. Congratulations! You're making history. Afterlife history. Is that a thing? I'm making it a thing."
Junjao sat up slowly, looking between Pratya and Ruj with dazed confusion. "I don't understand what's happening."
"That makes three of us," Pratya said cheerfully. "But don't worry, we're going to figure it out together. Now, let me pull up your file and we'll see what the system tells us about your very unique situation."
He pulled up several screens, his fingers flying across keyboards with practiced ease. Junjao watched him, still looking like she might faint again at any moment.
"Okay," Pratya said after a moment, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Here's what I'm seeing. Your body is currently at Bangkok General Hospital. You're in critical condition, in a coma. Head trauma, internal injuries, not great but not hopeless. Your family has been notified, looks like your mother is on her way."
Junjao made a small, pained sound. "My mom."
"Your soul, however…" Pratya gestured at her, "...has separated from your body. Not completely, as you can see. There's still a connection, a tether. But it's stretched very thin. Thin enough that you're experiencing death the way souls do, you can see us, interact with the afterlife, exist in The After."
"But I'm not dead," Junjao said.
"No. You're not. Your heart is still beating. Your brain still has activity. You're alive." Pratya leaned back in his chair. "But you're also not entirely alive. You're in between."
"Between life and death."
"Exactly."
Junjao was quiet for a long moment, processing. Then: "Can I go back? To my body?"
"I don't know," Pratya admitted. "This has never happened before. In all my years…and I've been doing this a very, very long time, I've never seen a soul separate while the body still lives."
"But there has to be a way," Junjao insisted, her voice rising. "I can't just…I'm twenty-one. I have my whole life ahead of me. I was going to…" She stopped, seeming to realize she didn't actually know what she was going to do. "I was going to figure things out eventually."
"And you might still," Pratya said gently. "Your body is alive. There's a chance you'll recover, that your soul will snap back, that you'll wake up with one hell of a story and no memory of any of this."
"And if I don't?"
Pratya's expression turned somber. "Then we'll deal with that when it happens. For now, you're here. And while you're here, you're under our care."
"So what do I do? Just... wait?"
"For now, yes. Wait. Rest. Let us monitor your situation." Pratya glanced at Ruj. "And Ruj will keep an eye on you. He's our best officer. If anyone can help you navigate this, it's him."
Ruj felt four eyes turn toward him, Pratya's expectant, Junjao's desperate and hopeful.
"Great," Ruj said flatly. "More unprecedented situations."
"That's the spirit!" Pratya clapped his hands together. "Now, Junjao, I have some questions for you. Let's start with the basics and work our way up to the existential stuff. Sound good?"
Junjao nodded weakly.
And so began the strangest interview of Ruj's forty-year career, with a girl who was neither alive nor dead, sitting on a velvet couch in an office decorated with tourist shot glasses, trying to explain her situation to a judge in a pineapple Hawaiian shirt.
Ruj stood by the door, watching Pratya work through his questions with his usual blend of humor and genuine care. Junjao answered haltingly, still looking like she might bolt at any moment.
This was going to be complicated. Unprecedented. Probably a logistical nightmare.
But for the first time in years, Ruj realized he was actually curious about what would happen next.
That was something, at least.