eternally.

@wistfulreality

<    ✉️   DM  :  @thechase    >

▲  are you drunk right now?  <  deleted  >▲  and why is that? pretty sure i don’t mean anything to you▲  pretty sure i d  <  deleted  >▲  pretty sure  <  deleted  >▲  wanna let me in on that train or is it only a one way trip for chase? /:

it’s only fair to say that xiii trusts fewer people in this game than she can count on the fingers of one hand.  there are plenty who would use her just to expose their names and she would let them, and just as many more that would stab her in the back if it meant a higher score.  all of them are just trying to survive.  all of them just want to leave.  xiii doesn’t blame them, but there is no honour in the actions of wolves.

mouse, though, is the first person and only person she’s trusted from the very beginning before any of this started.  he is someone who slips between the actions of wolves and comes out of it unscathed, and xiii finds a kind of grace in the way he dances out of death’s grip in ways that she never could.  she likes him, she’s drawn to him.  they always manage to come together at the right time, and drift when they don’t.

that’s what makes mouse special.  he’s the only one who understands the way she works.

maybe that’s why mouse doesn’t complain, or doesn’t push her away.  xiii gathers her partners and holds to them fast, he jumps from person to person based on need but always seems to return.  she values his loyalty, and he opens his home.  quite literally, because when xiii stands at his door, he’s opening it like a mouse would.  like he would.

“ will you play me a song?” she looks at him through lifeless eyes, glitter as they might like marbles in the lighting of his entrance.  i only want to sleep.  for ten minutes, maybe five.

how is it, really, that he can never say no?

         EVERYTHING IS BLACK AND WHITE UNTIL YOU MEET YOUR SOUL MATE.

every morning, it’s all the same.

bland. this is a world unwritten and seungyoun looks out into grayscale like the options left to him are bleak.  there is no light at the end of this tunnel made of gray stone and black road besides the white hot glimmer of hope that one day, all of this will explode and he’ll be born again anew.  he’ll be seeing colour for the first time, and maybe then this gray and heavy haze won’t bear the metric ton of weight seungyoun feels upon his shoulder.  

in truth, he’s only heard rumour of what colour really looks like – it sounds like the stuff of dreams, and seungyoun has wondered what the world is when you’ve found your destined partner.  every day would be exciting – even the most basic and mundane of things that weigh on his shoulders now would be ten times better with the person you’re meant to be with for the rest of your days.  for now, though ( for him ) every day is the same one – wake up, eat breakfast, get showered.  go to school, go back home.  even the late night touch with lonely, colour blind companions doesn’t feel quite right.

he is a rock waiting to fall down the hill into a better life.

this morning is all of the same – routine drenched in cold grays, dark blacks.  he leaves the body in his bed and wanders out to make coffee, wonders when they’ll gather their clothes and leave him be ( because all he wants in morning’s hour is to be left alone, to gather his thoughts and wonder if today’s the day he’ll see colour for the first time. he always hopes it is, but usually it isn’t. )  coffee touches his lips and it’s too black for his tastes, his nose crinkles and he adds more bright white milk until it’s a gray that suits him.  he wonders if it’ll be easier when he sees colour.  he hopes it is, because every morning it’s hit or miss with everything.

the same gray clothes slip over his skin as he gets dressed, the same dull voice waking the girl in his bed to send her on her way.  this is all the same.  it’s always all the same.  ( until it isn’t. )

cue a crowded street, cue the boy on the skateboard.  he is always the boy on the skateboard, getting awful looks as he rolls past bodies that mean nothing to him because they’re always gray.  this is all meaningless.  the same thought rolls around as he turns his board to hang a right corner, only to be slammed into by another skater coming in from the other side.  he falls, and this is not the same.

seungyoun hisses because he can feel the skin of his arm scraped well, the heavy fall probably bruising his hip and skinning his knees.  but when he looks at the damage: red ( is what he’s told this is by textbooks and the people who actually know what colour looks like. ) his heart is beating fast in his chest as suddenly the world shines before his eyes.  he squints to take the colour in and that’s when his gaze finally falls on the boy staring at him, wide eyed and open mouthed.

his breath catches in his throat but seungyoun still struggles to smile, a laugh almost hysterical coming from his lips. “ … hi.”

this is the day he ties his string.

 “ ONCE YOU MEET SOMEONE, YOU NEVER REALLY FORGET THEM.”

working at the yubaba’s bathhouse isn’t something he really wanted to do, but sometimes you don’t really have a choice in life.  he is not a wealthy spirit; he doesn’t have robes spun from fine silks.  he is not the ones who come to bathe here.  it’s unfortunate, but even the spirit world has its working class and he was born to be a part of it.  from the minute he gave up his name to sign a contract – the minute he became ユン – his body has been put to the test as a cleaner, a serviceman; whatever the customer wants, he’s supposed to please them.  ( and yubaba looks at him with her wild, wicked eye when she says whatever they want. )

he gave up his name to become a perpetual slave for his own brand of eternity.

that being said, it isn’t all bad when the customer gives a good tip.  at least then, youn can get a roasted newt out of the deal and thinking about it just makes his mouth water.  but he’s pulled from his daydream about eating roasted newt when he hears that gravelly voice snapping his name like a whip – “ youn!” it’s enough to make him jump and drop the mop he was using to clean one of the more private tubs.  he bows low as yubaba floats over to him and he’s always been in envy over the magic she’s possessed, but he doesn’t lift his head until she starts to speak again.  “ you’re working the private tub today.  the guest that’s coming in is the son of a very rich water spirit and i do. not. want. him leaving displeased.” every word she speaks in stunted sentences has her drawing closer and closer to his face, and he can almost feel the fire she would start to breathe if he didn’t rake in the money she expected.  “ do you understand?”

“ yes, m’am.” he swallows, the assent a quick one because a ) he can’t say no and b ) he’s not ready to face death by fire breath just yet.  besides, he can’t deny the fact that he’s a little curious – he isn’t usually the one hand picked for customers that are quote unquote rich and youn finds himself swallowing at the responsibility.  yubaba gives him another glare as she says, “ show him respect.  don’t let me down.” he nods and it’s a grave one, the sweat on his brow wiped clean when she finally leaves.

bath tokens are his next stop and he only has to wait until the spirit boy’s arrival.  he slumps against the wall until he hears the tiny sound of footsteps from outside – it’s only then that he stands up straight, bows low and doesn’t lift his head. “ welcome.” it’s soft, murmured and youn chances a glance at the boy spirit.  his skin, pale; his hair, white blonde and all the robes that surround him are just as silky as those he’s watched enter this room before.  but that’s not what has his heart stopping, or him suddenly shooting straight up before standing stock still.

“ don’t i know you?”

she’s only just turned eighteen, but every moment that she is, nayoung can’t help but feel she was born twenty years too late.  it comes in phases; when brian smiles at her when she’s just four and she wants to climb onto his back, when he smiles at her at sixteen and she feels her heart flutter and beat.  nayoung is a girl who has cultivated love for eighteen years, all of her life really.  she’s just a stupid, silly girl with silly dreams who never learns.

brian is a man with twenty years more that he holds over her head when she says she loves him on the day she becomes a woman.  her heart splinters, breaks; she is a stupid girl with stupid dreams who never learns.  but what she does learn is heartache.  it’s something that nayoung expected and dreaded for the past few years she’s been in love, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.

it hurts more when he leaves.  it hurts more, because nayoung knows that it’s her fault that he packs up his things to move and live alone.  her mother can’t comfort her when nayoung keeps her door locked, her father can’t do anything when he asks her to come and say goodbye and she won’t, her uncle can’t run his hands through her hair and tell her it’ll be okay because it won’t.  they say that first love is the hardest, but it’s the only love that nayoung has known for her entire life.

and this is just another night she spends in her bed, missing the sounds of video games from the room next to her that’s now just as empty as her heart.  her parents don’t ask her to leave her bed anymore, her uncle leaves her books and movies while she sleeps to keep her company for days alone.  tonight is a long night; she glances at the clock and it’s already lit up two a.m.

nayoung sighs, and then her phone rings.  at first, she doesn’t pay attention to it; the vibration of the ringer more a nuisance to her sadness than anything else.  but when it doesn’t stop, she sighs, sitting up with a frustrated snap and snatching up the mobile in quick hands.  her heart stops.

it’s brian.

“ ... hello?”  her voice sounds thick, even to herself, from not being used in days.  heartache has brought her to this point; eighteen years is long to lament and she hates herself that she still feels hope when she sees his name light up her phone. it’s resigned, even to her, but nayoung still tries.  she still wants. “ what do you want, it’s two in the morning -”

there are a lot of secrets that they both keep, from each other and from others. hers is the way her heart flutters when he’s nearby,  his is the biggest: he’s not really blind.

sunchun spends his days pretending, keeping his gaze somewhere just above her shoulder and acting like he can’t see where her eyes are.  he’s gotten rather good at it, acting and pretending; jei has fallen into his lies and allows herself to be wrapped in them.  he may be a beggar, but he’s still the kindest man she’s ever met.  that realization makes her heart sink.

days turn into nights turn into days.  she starts to spend more time with the beggar -turned -servant than her husband, who prefers spending his time in other households or with other women, anyway.  she’s not a stupid girl or a stupid wife, but she still cannot speak out against his actions.  not unless she wants another bruise on her eye that her children ask about the next morning.

she heaves a little sigh, eyes casting down as she sits with sunchun on the residence’s landing to watch the sunset.  jei isn’t paying much attention to him, but if she were she’d see that his eyes are locked on her and the pitiful slump of her shoulders or the way her lips turn down instead of smile.

they both keep secrets, like the one where she wants to be with him more and he has loved her through two lifetimes.  he doesn’t tell her that one, but what she thinks is his biggest is revealed: han sunchun can see.

his fingers find hair that is hanging into her eyes, unbraided and tuck it behind her ear.  she’s startled, because it’s improper to wear her hair hanging but more so that he knows.  “ i apologize -” she starts, but confusion settles in on her.  how did he know? her eyes lift slowly from her lap and jei’s gazing at him curiously.  his eyes don’t waver and they don’t hang on her shoulder like she’s used to.

instead, his eyes are locked on hers and they glitter with a feeling that she doesn’t understand.  (  it’s love.  he’s loved her for too long.  )

“ what’s going on ..?” she mumbles, heartbeat quick because she’s still certain that he can’t see her but he’s acting like he can, with the way his glittering eyes stare into her like he’s seeing her very soul.  his lips smile then and he strokes her cheek with a thumb, keeping her hair brushed back with his strangely soft cold hand.

they both have their secrets.  sunchun has loved her for two lifetimes, and jei is only just beginning to understand.  “ can you .. see me?”

he nods, and it brings roses to her cheeks.