The sea stretches behind them in shades of blue so endless it feels borrowed from a dream, the Amalfi sun spilling gold over stone and skin alike. Somewhere beyond the rows of chairs, waves continue their patient work against the cliffs, wearing the world down into softer shapes and he thinks there is something merciful about that. How love does much the same.
His fingers tighten around the folded paper. The edges have softened from being held too many times, unfolded and folded again beneath sunlight, in airports, at kitchen counters, in moments where the words felt too small and his feelings too large. How strange, he thinks, that a life can narrow itself into a handful of sentences. How strange that an entire future can wait quietly between breaths.
When he lifts his gaze, he finds Ryunosuke waiting for him at the end of it all, and suddenly every sound falls away except the tide. Then with a smile that feels unable to explain, he begins to read.
It’s oddly funny that the greatest thing to ever happen to me walked into a dimly lit theater room on a random Tuesday while I was halfway through rehearsals. All flushed skin and aching muscles lingering somewhere in the curtains, and my first instinct upon seeing you was to point towards the hallway and tell you that the pervert convention was being held in the other building.
You laughed, though, and there was something disastrous about that laugh from the very beginning. Because it settled itself into me with the sort of ease only fate or ruin ever seems capable of, and before I could properly understand what was happening, we had spent the rest of the night orbiting each other as though we had already done this in another lifetime. Talking too closely, dancing until the night dissolved around us, trading pieces of ourselves in ways that carried no weight at first, until suddenly they weren’t.
Somewhere between your hands finding my waist during that first dance, the late-night conversations, the intimacy of being witnessed both in the dark and in the aftermath that followed, the words shared between restless mouths, and all the quiet moments in which you continued choosing to remain beside me even when I was difficult to love, you became something terrifyingly permanent to me. Something woven so deeply into the fabric of my life that I no longer know where I end and you begin.
I think there are certain people the universe creates with the intention of being recognized rather than merely met, and loving you has always felt less like chance and more like remembering something my soul had spent years grieving without understanding why. Because from the moment you looked at me and laughed, some hidden part of me knew that whatever this was going to become would alter the shape of my existence entirely.
And now, standing here after all this time, I can’t promise you a love untouched by hardship, nor one that will always be graceful and easy. Because you and I have already learned that devotion is often messy, stubborn, aching, and unbearably human, but I can promise that in every version of my life that exists after this one, I will continue searching crowded rooms for the sound of your laughter, hoping to find you all over again.
Because ever since you entered my life, days that once would have passed unnoticed now seem to linger a little longer, softened somehow by your presence within them. I want more life because of you now. More mornings spent tangled together in half-awake conversations, more random Tuesdays that turn into memories we’ll laugh about years from now. More time to witness the person you continue becoming beside me, because loving you has made existence itself feel unbearably precious in a way I had never allowed it to before. The most beautiful part of all of this is that I no longer fear the future, because if it means getting to arrive there slowly, hand in hand with you, carrying the history of everything we have survived, then I would gladly spend every lifetime learning how to age beside you.
I love you, Ryunosuke.
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The chess pieces move differently from one another, the only noise of the room were that of the wooden pieces. Ryunosuke and Minseo sit across each other for a game. She prefers to glide the pieces across the board, while he picked them up and landed it with some gentle force. It was graceful, but tense.
“You’d choose him, wouldn’t you?” his deep-set voice cuts through her concentration. “You prefer him.”
“If my memory serves me right, I have always chosen you. Waited for you.” She moves a pawn closer to a waiting knight. “Although you wouldn’t be able to stop me from being friends with him, because I like him with or without you.”
Heartache had always been taboo between them. They had a similar way of dealing with it and that was to run away despite the heavy self-awareness they carried. While Minseo preferred pulling him out for ugly truth, he pulls back to hear perfect lies.
The game continues. Each piece from Ryunosuke unable to defend itself from Minseo’s attacks.
“I want to die.” Ryunosuke speaks, out of the blue. “Dying sounds good right now.”
“By my hands or others?” She asks, seriousness in her voice. “Will dying fix things?”
“Maybe.”
“If you die, I die. That’s how it works.”
A pause, his knight corners her bishop. She managed to capture it with a different pawn, however.
“From me to you, don’t go on a relationship and hurt them because you’re afraid of good things,” she starts, eyeing his hand to guess the next move. He moves a rook towards her Queen, but it gave space for her to checkmate. “Imagine if that was me.”
What she said had triggered something in Ryunosuke’s mind. He knew exactly what she had spoken of, and at that moment he was faced something he had always run away from. Their friendship wasn’t perfect but it was something she didn’t tolerate if given the short end of a stick. Minseo had aimed perfectly to the core and shot hard where it hurts.
His hand lifts, tossing the chessboard as hard as he could off the table. Minseo only sits there with a blank face as she feels his emotions. It was a rare moment considering she would usually deal with humor from his lips. This— was painful for the both of them.
“I know I’m selfish—! I know I’m a bad friend.—It’s just the truth, I’m not looking for being coddled,” the pent up frustration builds and spills just right in front of her, himself angry of what could’ve been. His fist lands on the table. “Just love me… just for a second. Please.”
“I do love you.” despite your lack of understanding. “For you, I’d do it over and over.”
It was his turn to stay silent. The pieces lay across the floor. She simply stands, and walks away from the table. Minseo briefly looks at his glossed eyes.
with tears brimming in her eyes, she keeps her facial expression stern. there were many exchanges where ryunosuke had balanced the world on his shoulders, adding hyejung's burden to his plate.
how unbelievably grateful she was, even when silence weighed heavier than the words she chose to share. the letters fail to formulate into the real world, stuck in hyejung's throat in the moment. she could only breathe haphazardly. conversations like this were not meant to depart her head.
she has to get it together. she has to show that she's capable of staying true to herself. though it is a bit contradictory with what lives inside her. still. it does not dictate her entire life. most moments were hyejung's, most memories and friendships were hers. she didn't want to share with jj. she had the privilege to be selfish.
"i'll try. you have to try, too." this is where she shows her gentle side. extending her pinky, she glares at him. it's moreso of a threat, she wouldn't take his hypocrisy today. "you said us. so don't make this only about me this time. okay?"
❛ you said you didn't want to celebrate, but i figured i'd come by anyway. ❜
🐝 * ― 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺. from @blindryu.
natsuki blinked at him, totally caught off guard.
she hadn’t expected him to remember, much less to show up at her door. ryu was a busy man—with his job, his personal life, and everything else he seemed to juggle. she had long accepted that his time was precious; therefore, she should never bother him unless it was something important. he had no reason to spare any of it on her (well, she’d prefer he spend his free time resting more than anything. oh, her workaholic brother~), especially not on a day she personally had dismissed as unimportant. birthdays had always been something she endured quietly, without candles or laughter, gifts left on a polished table, and the distant murmur of parents too busy to remember she was growing older. it took years before she convinced herself it would always be that way.
but hearing and seeing him standing there ... her lips parted, a faint, almost-giggle slipping out. ❝ onii ... you’re here? you still ... came? ❞ she asked, her voice gentler and trembling. the words felt fragile, as if admitting them might make him vanish. ❝ thank you ... ❞ she lowered her gaze, blinking quickly before the tears could fall. ❝ have you eaten? if not, eat with me! ❞
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He kept all of his promises. His father put him through a lot of bullshit, but the importance of making earnest promises was something he was satisfied with. Analyzing a situation and choosing his words so that whatever he was promising was something that he could actually control. Not promising fantasies where everything would always be perfect - he wasn't a god. He made it a point to know a situation in full before committing himself to anything so that he could be honorable in just one way when the bell tolled.
Jimin was unreasonable, chaotic, unpredictable in a way that rattled him since their very first conversation. Like the floor was shifting under him every so often in a game to make sure he always kept his balance. Ryunosuke said the wrong things often. Fumbled words and silences that stretched for too long as his brain churned out what was "right" or "proper" to do in the situation.
But he found that the promises he ended up finding his way to were the most honest ones he'd made in his life. Jimin's gaze was suspicious at times but the words whispered between them when they were alone were sacred to him. Ryunosuke was addicted to the crease of Jimin's dimple when he smiled and he chased it like a fiend. Even though he lived for the way he bloomed with joy at the poetry he stumbled through, his favorite was when Jimin was sleeping. When his boyfriend was completely serene. Those promises were ones he still intended on keeping even if Jimin was not conscious to hold him accountable for any of them. "I promise that you'll be safe and happy forever." Realistically, he shouldn't ever promise such a thing. Forever. But when he kissed the crown of his head at night it was often followed with variations of that promise. It felt more real and more important than any other promises he'd made in his life.
It had been days since she'd answered his text messages and he was starting to feel an uncomfortable itch about it. He told himself it was not anxiety. Anxiety was for the common person. It was just unusual for someone to make him wait on a response about his cat videos like this. People were fired in his office for less.
The beep of her answering machine for the fourth time made him let out a frustrated groan. Leave a message? As if. He hung up the phone again and switched over to the GPS locator application. She hadn't moved from the spot she was at when he checked an hour ago. He started looking at locations around it when suddenly the signal cut out, disappearing off the map.
That time he called and left a voicemail even though he couldn't remember the last time he had put that much effort into a phone conversation.
"Hyejung, you should always have a phone charger on you! Spare batteries! We live in the age of technology. Your phone is officially dead it looks like, so I'm coming to find you. After checking locations in the area, it doesn't look like it's anything that you should be involved in. Shipping warehouses and things like that are for people who are up to no good, and if I find you amongst the bad people, you're in trouble. It is currently 2:45 pm and I am on my way to come and find you with a phone charger. Then when your phone turns on, you can tell me what you thought of all the texts I've sent, maybe live and in person will help! You better be with your phone. If you're in some kind of trouble, how is someone supposed to find you if your phone is off?! Just, hypothetically speaking.. not like everyone has access to your exact location... okay, see you soon."
no one's gonna hurt you darling, not while i'm around.
There was normally not a whole lot of urgency in the errands Ryunosuke took for his father. Calculated moves that were planned and processes that had been perfected. Nothing messy. Well.. usually. Sometimes it did, which was one of the reasons why he never got too accustomed to his clothes. Especially not his shoes. He was quiet when he moved - calm and precise. Sloppy emotions usually meant mistakes, his father used to say. And mistakes meant complications and punishments for himself as well as the men who trusted him.
But when he had these rare moments, it spread through him. Blood soaked up by a desert that craved it without even knowing it. He knew it was something that should be contained. He was aware that what he was doing was bad. Conscious guilt, or maybe forced guilt in a sad attempt at making sure he didn't do it again. But he would, even if it was bad or wrong.
His driver said nothing in the car as they drove. Ryunosuke sat in the backseat, panning through images and security footage on the tablet propped up on his thigh. He could sense that Seiji was at a loss as to why they were out in the middle of the night. Why the theater that Ryunosuke had been frequenting somehow managed to have security cameras from so many different angles. The man was loyal to a fault and said nothing. Privacy and security were always very important to ToraCo. Seiji had been with him since the beginning, blindly following just as Ryunosuke blindly followed his own father. A small part of him truly hated himself for that.
Once they were parked and the engine was off, Ryunosuke exited gracefully from the backseat without another word. Seiji waited, that somewhat uncertain look on his face still, but said nothing as he stayed in the car. The hotel above them was an arena where he felt more comfortable, but this wasn't an event sanctioned by his father. It would have to do. It was private, had no cameras, and multiple exits that were heavily guarded. Probably the most restricted parking garage in the city.
Another man stood waiting for him, and he gave him appreciative clap on the shoulder before sending him away. Eunchae had a weak stomach. It was annoying, but the man was far too talented and dependable to let go of. Ryunosuke smiled to himself, a faint hum inside of his ears that usually took over in these moments, pulling out his favorite leather gloves from his pocket to put them on. He opened up the backseat of the car and was greeted by a rather stubborn protesting that made him click his tongue in disgust. The car shook some with the force of the older man bound up rather expertly in the back seat and Ryunosuke waited for it to subside before reaching to remove the cloth covering the man's head.
"Good evening." His voice purred, low and threatening as he sat down in the seat next to him. He pulled out his phone to begin his small presentation before switching to the tablet halfway through. "You recognize this? Yes, that's you going to the theater today. Did you have a nice time? Unfortunately, you were the only one who visited today aside from the standard cleaning crew and other performers." He carried on with his statements as if he was giving a report in a board meeting, just as he'd done earlier that day. The man's eyes bulged, protesting, thrashing again as if he was trying to object to what Ryunosuke was saying. "And you see.. I don't make mistakes. This has all been confirmed. Multiple witnesses and the charming man who picked you up for our date confirmed there were some scratches on your arms that were fresh. You have these.. obnoxiously hammy hands that match the marks on the neck of one of the dancers." He concluded. The man had grown still as he listened with sweat beading on his forehead. As Ryunosuke expected - a coward. An innocent man would be begging and pleading, hints of confusion in his eyes, but none of that was here. Just a vile, worthless waste of oxygen that had already taken up too much of his time today. He gave him a show of mock sympathy as if it was hard for him to decide what to do. A reluctant shrug and sucking in air through his teeth as he debated his options.
"It puts me in a difficult position." His sentence was emphasized with the sound of him pulling out a silver blade from inside of his jacket, a long thin knife that was one of his personal favorites. The honesuki to pull bone.. it was poetic, really. The custom blade that folded out from being hidden inside the handle was impractical for its culinary use but more comfortable for him to carry around. "The most sensible thing to me to do now is make it so you can never use your fingers again. Four ought to do it. We'll see how generous I feel by the end to see if you get to keep your tongue or not."
Send me a symbol to receive one of the following from my muse
Send ✆ for a morning text
Send ♔ for an angry voice mail
Send ♠ for a prank call
Send ☎ for an emotional voice mail
Send ☏ for a vague voice mail
Send ❖ for a confession(voicemail or text, specify.)
Send ⁇ for a worried text
Send ♣ for a text not meant for yo
Send ✘ for a text that should have been sent
Send √ for an early morning text
Send ☠ for misguided advice
Send ☢ for a desperate text
Send ☼ for a promise
[ NEXT WILL BE RYU'S BEING SHOT ERA IN HONOR OF IT HAPPENING A YEAR AGOOOO gotta re-read all that minseo mun has written so beautifully and write smth yes yes
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it was too new still for him to be crashing out the way that he was.
an ethereal being had taken up residence on the left side of his bed before he could stop it. a smile that soaked through his weak resolve and tore it in half. but these things normally couldn't be controlled anyway, could they? that's what they say about falling in love - that it's a violent thing that cannot be controlled. as a man who craved control and order in his life, it was difficult for him.
"Do you like what you do? I don't even know what you do, you could be killing people but I'd still ask you the same question."
there was a moment when they met where jimin had looked at him as if he could see straight through him, a moment that haunted him some nights. jimin didn't know it at the time, and still didn't truly know, how accurate he had been in the first conversation they shared in the dimly lit recital hall. he wondered if the absurdly cheeky man would have still been around him today if he had looked him dead in the eyes and answered that question with an unfiltered honesty. maybe not, but he hoped so. that jimin was the one who could, against all odds, love him anyway. it was selfish but he clung to it like the last dying ember during any moment that he was alone with his thoughts.
the way the curve of jimin's shoulder glowed in the dull city lights that filtered through the bedroom curtains. the dark hair splashed like ink against the white sheets marking his place permanently. the way he was sometimes caught in his staring, but jimin would just pretend to keep sleeping, basking in the attention like a satisfied cat in the sun. how jimin had learned how he liked his coffee in the morning, how to cook japanese food. how jimin's unfamiliar apartment was somehow so warm and inviting when ryunosuke had shown up with the sole purpose of kissing him at least once. his scribbled notes on scraps of paper to be typed into his phone later so he wouldn't forget a single aspect of jimin when his mind was so cluttered with keys to his own everyday survival.
ryunosuke's endless fight for his own life had made him analytical and cold. he closed off "arguments" like a meeting he was leading, summarizing and clarifying key points to make sure he understood what had happened. jimin wore his emotions on his sleeve despite the way he looked so stunningly distant at times. he had learned that some words really meant other words, and when jimin had no words to say, that meant it was usually okay to be quiet and initiate physical affection instead.
he really wanted to be normal in his own way. going on dates outside, responding with appropriate human emotions like sympathy and compassion. it went against everything he had ever been taught, but he wanted it now more than ever.
natsuki learned early that the silence of her parents weighed more than their words.
at the piano recital, her hands trembled during the crescendo. she missed a single note—just one—and the music wavered before catching again. but even at seven, she understood the language of disappointment, spoken not through reprimand but through the tightened line of her mother's lips and the flick of her father’s wrist as he checked the time.
they said nothing.
she pressed her hands to her lap and watched the city blur through tinted windows. the scent of her mother’s perfume filled the car like powdered peonies and cold distance.
back home, the silence clung to her like the gauzy skirt of her recital dress as her parents retreated to separate rooms, which they often did when the façade cracked.
that night, after the lights dimmed and the walls of the hasegawa estate settled into their usual hush, natsuki slipped out of her room in her wrinkled recital dress, bare feet soundless on marble. the security cameras blinked red above the corridor, but she’d memorized their rhythm long ago.
after all, a perfect child learns to adapt.
the garden wall between her family’s estate and the neighboring one was no longer daunting. she scaled it with the familiarity of routine, landing on a patch of soft, untamed grass.
roses grew wild on this side. not trimmed into soulless topiary, but real, fragrant, living things. she buried herself behind a hedge of blush-pink blooms, pressing her cheek to her knees.
the moon poured silver over everything around her, softening the world she was too young to understand and holding her gently, until footsteps broke it.
❛❛ you, ❞ came a voice, quiet but unmistakably annoyed.
she looked up. ryu stood above her, tousled black hair, striped pajamas, and a can of melon soda in one hand. he was eleven, four years older, and forever frowning. yet somehow, she had never feared him.
❛❛ you’re going to get scratched, ❞ he said.
❛❛ i don’t care. ❞
❛❛ obviously. ❞
he didn’t scold her. instead, he handed her the soda; its cool condensation pressing against her fingers.
❛❛ i messed up. ❞
she choked out, holding back a fresh batch of tears.
ryu didn’t ask. he sighed and lowered himself beside her, arms crossed and gaze turned toward the moon.
❛❛ you cry too loud, ❞ he said eventually. ❛❛ i heard you from my window. ❞
and that was the first time natsuki ran to ryu—uninvited, unjudged, and unforgotten.
chapter two: rain without shelter (age 10)
natsuki didn’t mean to cry during fencing class, but when her stomach cramped from anxiety and she asked for a break, the instructor gave her a look that wasn’t cruel, but tired.
her mother’s disappointment echoed louder in her mind than the coach’s indifference.
by evening, her parents had launched into another argument behind polished doors. her mother's voice was sharp in contrast to her father's thunderous one. natsuki sat at the top of the stairs, counting each crash and pause, until the tears slipped again. quietly this time. she had learned how.
then she ran out through the kitchen door, through manicured hedges and slick stone paths, until the rain began to fall and her breath caught in the cold.
she was drenched by the time she knocked on the side door of the park mansion.
it opened almost instantly.
ryu blinked at her, rainwater dripping from her hair, her uniform clinging like a second skin. his eyes narrowed. ❛❛ seriously? ❞
she merely gave a watery smile.
he pulled her in wordlessly.
inside, the warmth enveloped her. a towel was placed around her shoulders, thick and smelling faintly of fabric softener. they sat on the living room floor near the heater vent, with a mug of tea in her hands as the storm outside made no effort to hush itself.
❛❛ you could’ve texted, ❞ ryu said.
❛❛ you would be too busy to read it. ❞
❛❛… maybe, ❞ he muttered, then, a beat later, ❛❛ but i still would’ve left the door unlocked. ❞
she didn’t argue. she just leaned against the couch, tea warming her palms, and for the first time that day, breathed.
chapter three: strawberry pocky on velvet (age 12)
the test was returned with a perfect score. a neat 100 circled in red, unmarred and proud.
natsuki placed the graded sheet at the center of the dining table like an offering. her mother glanced at it mid-sip of tea, said, ❛❛ focus on science next. ❞
her father simply raised an eyebrow and muttered, ❛❛ about time. ❞
no smile. no praise.
just expectations realigned.
she left without asking. the path between the estates had become muscle memory.
ryu was sprawled on his bed reading something thick and philosophical when she entered, loudly making her presence known by dumping an armful of snacks onto his floor like a small tornado.
❛❛ onii, celebrate with me, ❞ she demanded.
he blinked at her, giving her a glance that teetered between confusion and amusement. ❛❛ celebrate what? ❞
❛❛ i’m a math genius. ❞
he scoffed. ❛❛ that’s not new information. ❞
still, he sat up and reached for the strawberry pocky.
they sat cross-legged on the floor next to his bed. no music. no lights except the warm overhead lamp. she munched with exaggerated glee. he rolled his eyes but didn’t comment on it.
❛❛ i’m proud of myself, ❞ she said.
❛❛ good, ❞ he replied. ❛❛ someone has to be. ❞
her breath hitched, but she disguised it with a sip of soda.
he finally spared her a glance when he said, ❛❛ that’s me. you did well, natsuki. ❞
and she was too flustered to reply with a ‘thank you’, resorting to resting her head on his shoulder instead.
chapter four: the glass house (age 14)
there was an art to playing the perfect daughter in the society she lived in.
she should smile and never fidget. she should know when to laugh and when to stay silent. she should wear what she has been told to wear and speak only when invited. she should appear polished but never vain, intelligent, but never intimidating.
natsuki wore her mother’s handpicked designer dress: a shade of lilac, high-necked, painfully tight at the ribs as she mingled at another fundraising event full of art collectors and political wives. she said her lines like she was an actress, her voice sweet and soft. her shoes pinched just as her cheeks ached from forced grace.
❛❛ she’s blossoming so well, ❞ someone murmured nearby.
❛❛ just like her mother, ❞ came the reply.
natsuki excused herself with a practiced bow and went straight to the powder room.
she locked the door, sat on the cool marble ledge, and stared at her reflection under golden light. her lips were glossed, and her posture impeccable.
but she felt like a hollow doll.
there was a hairline crack forming in her smile, and she didn’t want to wait for it to break in public.
so, she left.
she walked out the back of the venue and through the garden gate like she wasn’t the daughter of someone important, like no one would notice or care. the park mansion was just within her view, and truth be told, the path there felt more like home than the house she was raised in.
ryu opened the door before she could even knock. his eyes scanned her from head to toe, looking like she had completely gone crazy in her elegant dress, disheveled hair, shoes in one hand, and bare feet dusted with grass.
he stepped aside without a word.
inside, the lights were low. ryu was dressed down in his sweatpants and hoodie, still designer ones, she assumed, but they gave the kind of comfort natsuki had never been permitted to wear outside her room.
she stood by the entrance for a moment, fingers tightening around her heels.
❛❛ i didn’t mean to come straight here. ❞
❛❛ you always mean to, ❞ he said. ❛❛ you just don’t admit it. ❞
she let the heels drop to the floor with a soft clatter and followed him to the living room. they sat on the couch where he turned on the tv to a nature documentary, though muted. she sank into the cushions like she hadn’t sat in anything soft in days.
❛❛ i’m tired, ❞ she murmured. ❛❛ of smiling. of behaving. of being seen. ❞
he didn’t say anything at first. just offered her the blanket from the armrest, which she accepted with both hands.
❛❛ in short, you don’t like how they only see what they want. that they don’t see you for who you are. ❞
her throat tightened.
❛❛ you see me, right? ❞ the question was out of her mouth before she could hold herself back, looking at her older brother figure with pained, red eyes.
❛❛ what a question. of course i do, ❞ he replied, despite his eyes still on the screen. ❛❛ you’re always here when everything stops working. you always run. ❞
❛❛ yet, you always let me in! ❞
at that, he stared at her, and there was something in his gaze that made her feel whole again.
❛❛ natsuki, i wouldn’t know how to and wouldn’t even try to shut the door on you, ❞ he said. ❛❛ you know that.❞
chapter five: glass houses (age 16)
she failed a chemistry quiz. science had always been her weakest subject, but never in her life did she imagine that a 20-point quiz would lead to something like this.
it was just one quiz, and her teacher offered a re-take in two days.
but it was more than enough for her parents to be beyond devastated.
they didn’t even ask if she was okay, didn’t even wonder if something had happened during the day. they just stared at the paper and saw failure where she only saw fatigue.
❛❛ unacceptable. ❞
❛❛ disgraceful. ❞
she didn’t have any energy left in her to respond, so with her head hanging low, she simply packed a bag and left.
ryu didn’t flinch when she walked into his room that evening.
❛❛ you’re earlier than usual, ❞ he said.
❛❛ they … were loud. ❞
he handed her a soda, already chilled. she took it in silence.
they sat out on the balcony, their legs dangling above the hedge that separated their lives. the wind was cool, and the city below them was quiet.
❛❛ i wish i lived here, ❞ she said softly.
❛❛ you basically do. ❞
❛❛ i mean, i wish you were my real brother. ❞
he looked at her, deadpan, but natsuki had long achieved the ability to dig deeper into his expressions, sensing traces of fondness and comfort. ❛❛ you’d regret that. ❞
❛❛ why? ❞
❛❛ i’d be even harder on you. ❞
she smiled, shaky but warm. ❛❛ you already are.”
❛❛ then what’s the difference?” he flicked her forehead, making her wince and pout.
❛❛ you’re not like them, onii. ❞ she quipped, leaning into his shoulder.
and he didn’t move away.
chapter six: the one time he came (age 17)
the fight that night was volcanic, and she had heard the glass shatter before the shouting even began.
her mother’s voice was sharp, and her father’s louder. this time, they didn’t even try to keep it behind closed doors. their hurtful words echoed through the marble halls of a home built more for image than love.
natsuki didn’t cry. she had outgrown tears.
she simply reached for her hoodie and headphones, ready to run away again.
that was when she saw him.
through the window, just outside their gate, ryu stood beneath the soft halo of a streetlight. one hand in his coat pocket and the other holding a car key, like he was waiting.
her legs moved before her mind caught up.
downstairs.
out the door.
through the storm of voices.
into the silence.
he didn’t speak as she reached him and just opened the passenger door of his car.
she slid in, breathless.
❛❛ how did you—❞ she began.
❛❛ i told you, you always run, ❞ he said, starting the engine. ❛❛ i thought i’d be early this time. ❞
she didn’t respond. not until their houses disappeared behind them and the world opened up for her to breathe in peace.
❛❛ i didn’t think anyone would ever come for me, ❞ she whispered.
ryu glanced at her. ❛❛ you don’t have to think about it anymore. i’m already here. ❞
her fingers curled around the drink in the cupholder. it was melon soda, her favorite.
for the first time, she didn’t feel like she was running.
she felt like she was being carried by the person she knew would always be there for her.
someone whom she isn’t related to, but their filial-like bond transcends that.
someone she would always call, her brother.
just a little something about natsuki's past, featuring @ blindryu. :3
Shots rang loudly inside the private suite, her aim at the center of the target was counted each pull of the trigger. The gun in her hand reverbs against her skin, wanting more each and every pause.
“Okay, James Bond.” Ryunosuke teases, reeling in the paper target while she relaxes off to the side. Each shot made it somewhat near the center. “Good job—“
“Not good enough—“ Minseo tones down his celebration, removing ear muffs that muted the noise. “I need to be better.”
“There’s room for that. You don’t need to be so hard on yourself.”
It’s true. She didn’t have to be. But something about her past is simply difficult to undo. Years of torment rewired her brain that being best didn’t necessarily mean being good enough. He must’ve caught worry over her face.
“Whats going on?” He asks with curiosity, placing another target for practice. He reeled it a few kilometers back, eyeing the other. “Are you still upset about Xian’s wedding?”
“It just made me think that he probably made the decision because of last time—“ she shrugs, looking over her weapon. She mindlessly plays with clicks of the safety lock. “I can’t help but think I bring danger everywhere with me.”
“Oh come on, I’m sure that’s not the case. It’s possible the logistics were thrown off— sucks you prepared for it, but you just really have to respect their decision.” Ryunosuke looks on, the target swaying ever so slightly. He takes a breath, the arm holding the gun raised before it was fired. He does so effortlessly, twice— and both pass through the center of the paper. It triggered her competitive nature. One where it was playful and true. "I'm sure it was nothing personal."
“Anyway— I came here to ask you about considering in giving me a boat.“
“What-- The Minseo Choi can't afford a boat suddenly?” he teased, reeling in the paper with perfected aim of bulletshots. He stops his grin once he felt she was serious. "Sorry, and yes, of course."
"I will be destroying it though." she explains, giving him a file. Inside was a man that had worked for their underground scheme. "Ryu ShiOh, been stealing from me for a quarter now... $10 Billion won, apparently. I don't even mind, but damn... Do men really see me as someone low around here?"
"Well shit..." Ryunosuke mutters, having a gut feeling Minseo is about to do something dangerous. He could only sigh, connecting the dots as to why she wanted to meet at a gun range and also suddenly falters the conversation out of their usual banter.
"Minseo, you can just let a hitman deal with this." There was a slight plead in his voice even though he already know what she'll do. He was one of the people who can truly deal with something as such. She gives a look of amusement, as if to say 'where's the fun in that?' Ryunosuke hums, perhaps trying to bargain with anything he could find to change her mind.
"It's my birthday next week. So you have to do it this week."
"I would love to move quickly but I need to investigate."
"But my birthday--"
"I will be back for your birthday next week, Ryu-chan."
His face softens, knowing once Minseo makes a decision, she does not turn on her word until it is done. He only switches the target practice paper once more, huffing in frustration but agrees with the deal.
"Promise me then." He asked, but she chuckles as she prepares for another round.
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“I have to pick up some souvenirs for him as well if anything, maybe you can pick up some items for your person as well.” Ryunosuke chuckles, humor extrudes sarcasm as they walk the grounds of her house in Hokkaido. It was private, yet held a feeling that was too recluse. “Damn— I’m hungry.”
“Yeah— well, it’s maybe if I actually see him this week...” She responds stiffly, though she found humor in her suffering too. “By the way, might fully buy another land property in Yokohama so we’re not so far up north— what do you th—“
“—Were you expecting visitors?”
His attentiveness earned a few seconds to jump away from bullets that suddenly ricochet near their feet, himself using his body and protect her to run them back inside the property. Multiple armed men tread across the garden to approach as it took her mere moments to return in a calmer state, immediately taking her phone out for help.
“It’s Minseo… ambush at the Hokkaido property, send back up.”
Rushing through the halls, Ryunosuke buys time by ensuring doors were closed despite the traditional home having frail architecture and provided obstacles for the men to slow down. There hasn’t been a word uttered since, but trusted Minseo knew what to do. He only follows suit when she makes a stop in the living room, gaze following her as she uses the heel of her shoe to destroy the tatami beneath their feet, and began digging the straw out to reveal an organized infantry. “Really—?? Now??”
“I mean— unless you want to die here, yes—now.“ She loads an automatic rifle and hands it over, himself aiming and ensuring that it was of standard. Minseo took a belt of throwing knives in her favor as they hear footsteps approach. “Stay alive for 20 minutes… they’ll meet us out back.” Her voice hushed along with her footsteps, she plans to attack at the opposing end.
Ryunosuke was no stranger in this world. Skillful on his own way, he aimed through the partition doors with an intent to protect themselves. One can assume his shadow is seen from the otherside before a rain of bullets pierce through the fusuma, followed by bodies attempting to hurt him. Knowing he’s her current responsibility, Minseo makes a run through a connecting hall, taking one man with immediate close combat. He aims towards Ryunosuke, but it swiftly raised upwards with her quick thinking— though not quick enough as she was slammed to the wall with a heavy kick. Her chest had gasped for air, but manages to throw a knife to his knees. The suffering was ended with one bullet from Ryunosuke’s. Stealing a firearm, she leads the way out to the garden, but is met with warning shots once again.
“There’s no way you don’t know these people…” his voice grunts, feeling his cheek scratched now that he’s calm. He notices Minseo hunched with a hand on her chest, panicking as he noticed blood dripping from her lips. “Come on— can you not get hurt for five fucking seconds?!”
“I’ve been a little rough since the accident but I’m managing.” It tasted like dirt and iron in her mouth that she needed to spit out every remnant of it. It was quite painful, but took note that if they gave up now, there will be death between them. Or both. “I don’t know, an angry mob? There’s always somebody want me dead. I’ll figure it out later. Just please— try not to find answers now—“
He wanted to fight it, really. Worrying about the state of her well-being since taking over her father’s businesses. Ryunosuke knew better, so he had always been the one to never question. Observing far but still cared. Very much. His thought breaks hearing steps of gravel outside.
“I counted three more so it shouldn’t be bad. There’s probably more in the car. We’re 10 minutes out. ” He checks the barrel quickly, herself mimicking the one she obtained from the enemy. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Minseo heads out first, Ryunosuke providing support from the behind as he skillfully shot every single one that came for them. She immediately uses the shrubberies of the garden for cover, unable to assist him at the moment to see where her command was. It didn’t look too good as the suspected armed troop left a vehicle. They were outnumbered by seven, and he was running out of options. It felt as if time wasn’t on their side. Went on and on until focus shifts on someone else.
“Minseo— we can’t stay here—!”
“I’m trying—! Just get out of the property— run for it!!“
On a brighter note, it didn’t appear neither of them had gotten close to being shot. Unable to help him at the moment, her plan was to steadily run to the gates in hopes that someone from her side was there for help. But bullets threatened her path, turning around to use the only gun she had for distraction. It had aimed for one enemy, but in the midst of chaos, Ryunosuke stands in the line of fire. A bullet hits the back of his shoulder and follows through the otherside. Suspended horror was on her face seeing him fall to the ground. An agonizing shriek of his name was heard before silence blankets them for what seemed like an eternity.
Something in her breaks again. As though it’s been waiting for a moment to snap. She feels hot with rage. Minseo suddenly can only see one track, and that was to do harm. It didn’t account the surroundings as she uses her body to block anything that may hinder Ryunosuke’s chances of survival. That is if he still had a pulse. She grabs the rifle from his hands and slaughtered anything that moved. The adrenaline of seeing bodies drop in a split moment almost costed her help, when her own team finally showed up to assist. The only thing to bring her back from her rampage was a soft call.
“Seo—“ scuffed hands grabs the back of her coat, and all she saw were his hands tinted heavily with rogue blood. “Minseo—“
The first thing that came to mind was her son. The feeling was all too familiar. The place. The time. The situation. Jinwoo, it’s okay… Minseo grips his hand, trying to help with anything she could as they were being transported to safety. You’ll be okay, Jinwoo. It was fortunate it was his right shoulder. He would’ve met instant death if the bullet entered the left and followed through his chest.
“Why … are you looking … at me like that…?” Ryunosuke asks, his eyes fall heavy. He weakly squeezes her hand. “We’re fi…ne …”
For some reason she couldn’t make out his face: her body felt numb as ringing in her ears were muffled with commands. She could feel someone dragging her but held on tight and refused to be separated from him. It felt reminiscent of something that had happened before, and her heart beat couldn’t catch with breathing fast enough. Her head felt light and she couldn’t stop looking at the bullet wound.
“It was the East Sea Group. From Jeju. Do you remember when you dissolve partnership after suspicions of debt subsidies?” Her advisor briefs her, but half of her attention was at the operating doors. “They investigated one of the men and he confessed. What’s the plan?”
It was a miracle she wasn’t the one completely hurt. Her team would rather have part of her missing than deal with losing the head of the company. It appeared no one knew the truth. She was unsure if the pain in her chest was from her injury, or the brace that hindered motion temporarily. All she was waiting for is that Ryunosuke is okay, and that everything will be okay.
“Miss Choi?”
“The current head to ToraCo is there because of me…” confessing as though she was in church, her hushed tone indicated seriousness outside of her usual professional manner. “I know for a fact he wouldn’t want me to inform his parents… I’m praying no one is waiting for him at home.”
“It’s a difficult matter, Miss Choi. But there’s also something you need to handle.”
The wrath was still there. Minseo was aware she needed to control it. A time to make a decision isn’t now after having Ryunosuke as collateral. The doors open and she jolts up to approach the doctor, only to be assisted in frustration because of her injury. She waited for good news, it was tense between all everyone that was in the hall.
“Mr. Park is stable. It’s fortunate the injury wasn’t severe though he may have trouble with healing,” All she heard was he was alright, and everything else needed to be take care of on her own accord. “Ah— Ms. Choi. I’d advise him to stay in the hospital. I would assume he’s under your supervision for the time being…. His father may hear word soon, and I’m unsure what to say.”
Connections of the underworld doesn’t stray far from where it started. It was a domino effect and someone probably already knows of the ambush at the Choi grounds. This territory doesn’t run free under Minseo’s call considering it wasn’t her home country. She had power but not all.
She expresses gratitude to the doctor, ensuring nothing will differ from how she treated those who worked for her back home. Her requests were immediate and the first thing to ask was a phone, her advisor was confused on who she requested…
-
“I know it’s you unnie~~” Yejin teases, chuckling a little with Minseo’s urgency. “Miss ya~”
“Shake your branches little tree—“ there was a heavy pause. The code for an underground request with in the family was something the younger latter hasn’t heard in ages. It was safe to say Yejin wasn’t expecting it with her silence on the line. Minseo repeats herself once more, urgency grits her teeth. “Shake your br—“
“Toss gold and silver down on me.”
“I was ambushed at my home in Hokkaido. We investigated the leader of East Sea group. Someone will be sending you more information. 32 million won on tab if you could do it for me.”
Yejin curses under her breath with the amount, what an oddly specific number…? “This… seems too soon— Are you alright?”
“I wished you asked after…” there was a soft huff, pressing a finger between her brows. “‘m fine, everything is settled but I can't leave him until I know he'll be okay.”
“Ah.” It humored her, really. Even before, she'd never recieved this much from her family. “Alright, anything else, boss?”
“I want that man’s ring finger in my office.” It was a serious request, one where it didn’t appear to be out of ordinary between the two women. “Finish this with in a week. They’ll be meeting you at the hangar if you need anything, Chaewon.”
“—I... it’s Yejin now.”
Minseo’s frustration must’ve spoken for her, with the stress piling up that she can’t even have basic respect. Realization hits after the correction, and she sighs out tense emotions. There was a brief pause, herself apologizing soon after.
“Thank you, Yejin.”
-
days later
“Yejin has been reported to have come back to the weapons hangar.” Her advisor speaks into the blue, looking over to Ryunosuke who’s woken up after a few hours. His suspicion adverts towards her. “We’ve secretly requested her to be followed just incase, as requested. they reported she did incredibly well...”
“What did you do..?” Ryunosuke wonders, not wanting her to dive into much over it. “It was an accident... You didn't know."
“We’ve also instructed guards for Yohan’s safety, as a precaution."
"Geez, Minseo you're acting like--"
"YOU COULD'VE DIED...!" She finally spills the pent up frustration, taking a sharp breath and the outburst alone made everyone tense. She didn’t need a lecture, and was asked that they be left alone. "You’re in danger— everyone will be in danger. It comes back to me— Can you let me do this? I have to do this because you just never fucking know,"
"—But I didn't." Ryunosuke was stern, despite a pressure he felt when he spoke. There was a soft grunt that prevented him from arguing any further. Arguing with Minseo wasn't always the best. "I'm fine, see?"
Her eyes shut, lowering her head on his bed as soft pats from his palm was felt. It was still tense but he knew not to make humor of something as such. "I told your family. I.. don’t know what to tell Zan." a mumble was heard and he smacked his tongue. "Im sorry."
"I guess it had to happen at some point, no?"
“At some point …? do you know how terrible this is? Have friends and family always in danger just because of me?” She looks at his state with worry, only then it was prominent that she probably hasn’t slept properly. “This is what I have to deal with? Forever? Everyone— being in harm’s way—“
Ryunosuke wanted to interrupt but a message on her phone catches both their attentions first. A short message with Yejin’s name. It’s Done. They look at each other with relief and somewhat of disdain. This is, after all, still out of the ordinary in a person’s life. Silence blankets them like heavy rain, with her self itching to just call someone for comfort. If that person would even answer. Anyone else but the ones here.
Before she knew it, Minseo notices her shortness of breath despite sitting still. She felt confused that she couldn’t even hear him calling out while leaving the room. She was unsure where she wanted to go, avoiding stares of no one. It was overwhelming enough that her body was feeling static, like an empty channel of a television screen. Fingertips felt cold as the rest of her body, slowly losing the ability to even make of her sight. Her vision hazed as the fleeting feeling of falling was felt, before everything turns to black.
