Shallow Wisdom

Miya stared at the question in silence. 
     Her eyes darted back to the top of the letter and she started reading it again. 
     "Dear Ms. Miya. I'm writing this letter under duress. My lil' sister Annabelle loves your music, and you're just about the only singer I can think of that makes her use her voice. Anyway, she's a bit funny sometimes, and recently while I was driving her back from Sunday school she looked at me with her big blue eyes and wavy black hair and asked me if I'd write this letter for her. I couldn't say no to the girl, so I'm sitting here writing this now. I thought there was a lot more she wanted to say, but she told me there's only one thing she wants to ask you. Since you're named 'Miracle Miya' she wants to know, with all the 'miracle' talk, do you pray for your own soul? It's an odd question, but she said she was curious..."
     The letter went on for a while longer after that, but Miya was too busy thinking about the question she'd been asked and what it implied. 
     This wasn't just any other fan. This was a fan who, for some strange reason, had decided to send her a letter purely because she was concerned for Miya's soul.
     The soul she didn't have. 
     She went back to paying attention to the letter, wondering if there was going to be a catch or an apology or something along those lines. Her eyes raced over the words, and her heartrate began to speed up.
     "...curious about what her teacher had told her during Sunday school. It was something about how, even the people no one ever meets have souls, and every one of them is important. So she asked me on the drive home if the people everyone knows about have souls too. I told her yes, and then she got to wondering about you, since you're the most famous person she knows about and she likes your songs. So that's why you're holding this letter. She'd love to hear a response from you. Hopefully, Gene Annabelle Southwell."
     Miya didn't know what she should feel at that moment. 
     Memories surfaced.
     She was sixteen again. 
     Her grandfather had been lying down on his deathbed. Her grandmother had left the house to try and purchase some more medication, and so Miya had been left to watch and take care of him for a few hours. She'd sat next to him in silence for almost an hour before he spoke.
     "Mimi." 
     Miya Min-Hee had been surprised to hear her grandfather use the nickname she'd been given as a toddler, and she turned to look at him with concern.
     "Grandpa?"
     He had looked at her, and his old weary eyes had been full of regrets.
     "I'm sorry, Mimi."
     A pit had formed in Miya Min-Hee's stomach when she heard him say those words.
     "Grandpa, don't be sorry. Please, don't be sorry." Red hot tears had started to crawl down her face. "You did nothing wrong! Nothing!" She had said, doing her best not to choke on her own words. 
     Her grandpa had sighed, shaken his head from side to side, then closed his eyes and kept speaking. His voice had been soft.
     "Mimi... I took you from your parents."
     Miya Min-Hee opened her trembling mouth.
     "I-I don't care grandpa! Please, don't be sorry!"
     "Mimi, please be quiet." He had said, his voice nearly a whisper.
     She had done as he requested.
     "My son and your mother... they made plans, after they were married. They wanted to go to the United States and start a new life for themselves." 
     Miya Min-Hee had hung on her grandpa's every word, tears still slowly falling from her eyes.
     "I asked him why he wanted to do that, and his response disappointed me greatly." Her grandpa's voice trembled. "He told me that he wanted to 'do whatever he wanted.' He didn't have a plan, for himself, or his wife, or... for you."
     There had been a long moment of silence. 
     "So after you were born, I asked him if I could take care of you while he prepared for the trip." He said quietly. "Then, when he told me that it was time for you to go with him and your mother... I refused to give you back."
     Her grandpa had reached an old hand out towards her; she had taken it and held it firmly.
     "The two of them left without you."
     Miya hadn’t known what to feel then either. But her grandpa had kept speaking.
     “I thought… I thought I could raise you better than they could.” Her grandpa’s voice had wavered. He shut his eyes tightly and gripped Miya’s hand firmly. “I’m sorry.”
     “Grandpa, I-I’m happy!” Miya cried. “I don’t care about them; I care about you!”
     She had felt her grandpa squeeze her hand, and so she stopped talking.
     “I did the same thing.” He’d said mournfully. “I did it all the same.” He’d opened his eyes and gazed into hers. “I’m sorry.”
     “W-what? Grandpa, what are you talking about?”
     “I raised you the same way I raised my son!” He had snapped at her, letting go of her hand, but she knew he was angry at himself and not her. “I taught you everything I knew, I loved you, I cared for you, my darling girl.”
     Miya Min-Hee hadn’t said anything.
     “But I forgot to teach you about your soul.” Her grandpa leaned his head against his pillow and looked up at the ceiling.
     That was the first and last time Mimi had ever seen her grandpa cry. She had reached out to take hold of his hand once more.
     He had accepted her offer.
     “Mimi.” He’d whispered. “I’m sorry.” His light brown eyes watered. “I was just a shallow man. Even now, all I can remember of those deeper things is a simple little saying I heard when I was a boy and my parents forced me to go to church with them.”
     Mimi had leaned in as close as she could to her grandpa.
     She’d hugged him, and as her tears fell onto his shoulders, she whispered for only him to hear.
     “Grandpa, please, tell me.”
     Her grandpa had breathed deeply.
     Then, softly, gently, hesitantly; he had spoken.
     “For what will it profit a man… if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or… or what shall a man give in return for his soul?” Her grandpa breathed again. “For the Son of Man is going to come… with his angels…” He had stopped.
     “Grandpa?” Mimi’s voice had been full of panic.
     “I-I’m sorry, my darling girl.” He had said. “But I don’t remember the rest.”
     Mimi and her grandpa sat there silently, hand in hand, before he spoke up again.
     “Mimi… I’m tired.” His voice had been as weak and thin as paper. “I’m going to sleep now… just for a little while.”
     “Y-yes grandpa.” She’d nodded as her tears flowed freely.
     His eyes had begun to close.
     “I’m sorry, Mimi.” He whispered. “Forgive me for being so shallow with my love.”
     Mimi’s voice nearly died in her throat. She’d gripped his hand a little tighter and nod.
     “G-grandpa, you’re the deepest, wisest man I know.”
     His eyes had closed.
     “I… I just wish I could have loved you more fully, Mimi.”
     “I-I don’t think was p-possible grandpa.” She had barely managed to choke out the words.
     The last thing her grandpa had ever done was smile.
~~~
     Mukashi awoke to the sound of someone crying.
     He snapped to attention and looked through Miya’s room, then saw her lying down on her bed, curled up and sobbing.
     He raced towards her bedside, wanting to comfort her.
     But he stopped once he reached her bed.
     He was a professional; he wasn’t supposed to be impulsive. He realized that he’d been thinking with his feelings and clenched his fist. It was Miya’s job to be emotional; not his. He exhaled sharply, stood completely still, then spoke efficiently. He wouldn’t let her outburst affect him.
     “Miya, what do you need?”
     Miya gasped for air and removed her face from her pillow. She tried to speak, but no words came out. Mukashi didn’t say anything as he stood at her bedside. For almost ten minutes, Miya sobbed into her pillow while Mukashi watched, doing his best to quell any strange feelings attempting to enter his mind.
     After her cries quieted, Mukashi spoke quietly.
     “You’ve been sleeping for over twelve hours. It would be beneficial if you had something to eat.” He hesitated. “What would you like to eat?” His mind raced; it took all his concentration to keep his thoughts controlled.
     Miya hiccuped slightly, then lifted her head from the pillow and looked at Mukashi. Her face was covered in saltwater and mucus, and her amber eyes were watery and unfocused.
     “C-can I please… Can I have yakgwa?”