stone heart, wings of gold

“honey, won’t you come to bed now?” you place his tea down on his desk, far away enough from any important sketches. you balance yourself on a hand set down right by the sketchbook he’s currently using, the other on your hip.

“in a bit, my love. i’ve still got a lot to finish.” his fingers don’t loosen their grip on the pencil. he’s currently working on one of his many projects he’s yet to finish. you’ve lost count on what number this one was. he gets so excited with the many ideas he comes up with that he has to start new sketches before he loses them.

while it is his job and a job he’s extremely passionate about, you care about his well being. self care comes first in your eyes.

“while i’d hate to disturb your current creative flow,” you bring a hand to his hair, combing through it. “it is just about to be 2 in the morning and you need your rest.”

“there’s so much left to do, though.” he finally looks up at you. ah, there are those beautiful eyes that you love so much. always hunched over a sketchpad you don’t really get to see them until you force him away.

“donghyun,” you hold his face in your hands. you see how prominent his eye bags are. you reach for his glasses gently pulling them off and setting them on the desk. “your eyes are practically begging for sleep.”

you see the way he’s pouting at you like a child begging for more time to play, but rest is rest and it is very much needed.

“i made you some chamomile tea,” you turn to grab the cup the liquid inside probably cool enough to sip. “here.”

“i’m sorry it’s always the same thing every night.” his shoulders drop and he grabs the tea cup from you, taking a sip. “you shouldn’t have to take care of me like i’m a child.”

“i understand that this is your passion and i don’t mind it, but i also want you to stop neglecting yourself. i need you healthy and alive.” you joke.

he laughs and sets the cup back onto the plate. his hands reaching for your waist. “how about we spend a day together tomorrow? i’ll put the sketching to the side and you could have me all to yourself.”

“hm, i’d like that.” you lean down to leave a kiss on his forehead. “will you join me in bed now?”

“of course, my love.”

— one: coming soon!

jaehyun flipped down onto the floor and started pacing.

"i - i’m not nervous! i’m just being careful! they - they deserve the best and i don’t want to mess it up!” he blabbered, more to himself than the gaggle of petty thieves.

"dude, calm down,” one of them pipes up and jaehyun pauses mid-step, "you’re spider-man! what are you so nervous about?”

"what if they don’t like the ring i picked?” jaehyun - to his credit - does not clam down, instead, his voice rises as he continues to panic, "what if they say no? oh my god - what if they actually hate me and has just been pretending to like me all this time?”

the goons exchanged a glance.

"did you ask them? about... you know?” one of them asked.

"of course i did! i quadruple checked literally three days ago!” jaehyun blurted out, "a - and they just winked and said that they’d love to marry me.”

"so… why are you worried?”

"what if they changed their mind!” jaehyun clutched at his head in a panic, "i forgot to take out the trash yesterday! oh my god - they’re so not marrying me now!”

"bro, chill,” one of the goons held out a placating hand - well, his best attempt at one while his arms are still webbed down to his side, "you should trust them - if they said they want to marry you then you need to believe them.”

"b - but i’m a horrible partner! they made me dinner yesterday and i forgot to eat it!”

"dude, he’s crazy,” one of the thieves whispered to the others, "like - he actually needs help.”

"we’ve been together since we were sixteen. guys, do you think they’re sick of me? it's been a really long time.”

spider-man looked up to the thieves from where he is crouched in the floor - and all of them furiously shook their head and plastered their best smiles on. one of them even shot spider-man a thumbs up.

"no way man - that’s a long time!”

"yeah! if they were sick of you they’d had left a long ass time ago!”

jaehyun took a deep breath and stood up, patting one of the goons on the back.

"you’re right. thanks guys, i really needed this.”

"no problem, spider-man!” one of them wriggled in the webbing, "could you let us go then? in return for being your hypemen?”

spider-man laughed, "sorry, dudes! stealing is still a crime!”

the three of them groaned as spider-man took off - swinging out of the atm room.

"wait - spider-man’s about to get hitched?”

"hi, baby!” jaehyun swung in through the window, landing lightly on the floor and crawling the rest of the way until he has his face pressed into your lap, his mask already pulled off, "did you have a good day at work today? i missed you!”

you laughed, setting down your book and ruffling his hair, "yup, finally handed in the new draft of my paper. sorry i missed you, had to stay behind to explain how dinosaur babies are made.”

jaehyun’s ears flushed a deep red - it seemed like any mention of babies or romance or marriage flustered him lately. not that you would know anything - not when he’s been guarding his sock drawer like a protective dog these past two weeks and launching himself at you when you dared tried to approach his drawers to put his socks away. nope - you didn’t know a single thing.

"y - yeah?” jaehyun coughed and tried to return to a normal colour, "that’s cool.”

"what?” you raised an eyebrow, "you interested?”

jaehyun jumped up, "n - no! i know how babies are made!”

you giggled, "i bet.”

"what are you insinuating?” he did not succeed in his mission. instead, he got even more red - the colour splashed across his cheeks and you resist the urge to tease him.

"hmm - i thought your memory was pretty good? weren’t you talking all about it last night?”

jaehyun spluttered and wrapped his arms around himself, "you’re such a pervert!”

"hey,” you held up your hands in surrender, "you’re the one who blabbed all that.”

jaehyun fumed, “i’m gonna go take a shower!”

you laughed loudly as he scrambled away, picking up his pajamas from where you always left them on the back of the couch and booking it to your bathroom.

"remember, turn the handle to the right for cold water!”

"shut up!”

you watched him eat.

jaehyun chewed dutifully on his dinner while getting his knee knocked by your own repeatedly - force of habit - you said, i'm bad at staying still. jaehyun doesn't mind.

"i think i got better at cooking,” you say absent-mindedly, pushing more meat onto his plate.

"ish weally good,” jaehyun said through a mouthful of broccoli and you laughed fondly.

"i got more time since i got that promotion,” you drummed your fingers on the table, "i’ve been thinking about bringing you lunch so you don’t have to reheat and eat last night’s leftovers.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, "and to make sure you actually eat.”

jaehyun’s head spun.

bring him? lunch? the only people who gets lunch brought to them was - oh god - one of the biochem teachers. she had her husband bring in lunch everyday - husband! he was loud everytime he swept through the office like a hurricane and everyone teased her about her husband everytime and - they’re married! and if [y/n] brings him lunch, then they’d have to be married and then -

"hello? earth to jae?”

you snapped your fingers in front of him and he reacted just as quick, immediately straightening up and trying his best to not look flustered and/or embarrassed.

"what’s that?”

you laughed fondly at him, "nothing. finish your food before it gets cold.”

you picked up his empty bowl and shuffled into the kitchen, humming loudly as you turned on the tap and started scrubbing at the dishes in the sink.

jaehyun slowly brought a piece of meat to his mouth before dropping his fork - it clatters against the plate loudly as he pushed back his chair with urgency.

"honey - wait! no! it’s my turn to wash the dishes! you promised you’d let me do it!”

"ugh! myung jaehyun! go to bed!” you giggled, pushing his arms away from your side as you squirm, "stop that!”

"but i missed you!” he whined, ceasing his tickles and settling for wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"i’m right here, aren’t i?”

"yeah, but…” he murmured, rubbing his eyes sleepily against your collarbone, "i always miss you.”

you rolled your eyes in the dark, "so clingy.”

jaehyun giggled happily, "you love me.”

"’course i do.”

"i love you too.”

"i know.”

"just making sure,” he exhaled.

you’re warm and almost asleep when jaehyun speaks up again.

"thank you.”

"mm?” you stir slightly.

"thank you for coming into my life,” he whispered, "thank you for making it better. thank you for making me better.”

"you’re welcome, jae,” you slur, finding his curls under your finger and patting it softly. he responds by pressing himself tighter against you, his grip on your tightening.

"i promise i’ll always come home to you. i promise i’ll always be someone you can rely on. i promise myself to you, always. come rain or shine, hell or heaven - i’m your’s.”

jaehyun peeks up from where he’s situated against your chest when you don’t respond, a smile slowly splitting across his face when he sees you’re completely out, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar as you breathe deeply, your breath tickling your hair.

"sleep well, my love,” he leaves a soft kiss against your skin, nestling deeper into the pillows and blankets, "i’ll meet you in your dreams.”

you remember how bright the sun used to be when you lived alone, waking you up rudely with it’s sun rays beating down on your face.

nowadays, its not so bad. not when jaehyun takes care to block the sunlight from catching onto your face, shifting ever so slowly with his arms still wrapped around you so his shoulders catches the sunrays and leaves them there - the sun warming his back.

"you’re staring,“ you mumble into his chest, and his arms around you tighten.

"i have the world’s most gorgeous person in my arms and i’m not allowed to stare?“ he softly exhales, brushing his nose against the top of your head.

you curl into him, smiling into his skin. somehow, in the middle of the night, you’ve switched positions, with you buried in his chest while he tucks your head beneath his chin.

jaehyun’s hand moves up to brush your hair out of your face, sighing lovingly as he does so.

"can i ask you a question? three, actually,“ he whispers.

"so curious so early in the morning,” you murmur, drawing circles around his heart - you own it - he swears, that’s why you do it. drawing circles around myung jaehyun’s heart so everyone knows it’s yours.

he exhaled a laugh, "humour me.”

"alright, hit me.”

"what day is it today?”

you blink sleepily, "um, thursday? why?”

jaehyun’s chest rumbles under your cheek as he laughs, rubbing his cheek into your hair, "nothing. ready for question two?”

"they better not all be this silly,” you scold, but he can feel the curve of your smile wrinkle up his shirt.

“it’s not - i promise,” he takes a deep breath, "what did you mean? back when you said i was something?”

you pause, thinking back to that first conversation you had all those years ago - when he tripped in the hallway and you picked up his book and told him he was something.

"i guess… i didn’t really know back then. but i do now. you’re something good, jae, you’re everything.”

"really?”

"really.”

the crickets continue to chirp outside your window, and when you shift to look at jaehyun’s face he’s staring off somewhere else, his face doing that thing again - where his nose scrunches slightly because he’s thinking hard and fighting internally with himself about something.

you reach up and poke him in the cheek, he reacts with a startle and immediately laughed when you pinch his cheek.

"satisfied with my answer?”

"very,” he laughs, pinching your side in retaliation, "you’re my everything - too. you know that."

“i do. so - what’s your third question?”

jaehyun looks at you strangely, then his eyes break into something soft, tender - like the type of eyes he gave you at the top of that ferris wheel in the fair, the eyes he had when you finally woke up in the hospital, and the eyes he had when the two of you visited the gravestone of his parents for the first time.

"promise you won't say no?" he fiddled with a piece of your hair.

"is that your third question?"

"huh? no! no... it's not," he groaned, hiding himself in your hair in embarrassment, the tips of his ears going red as you laugh.

"pop the question already, jae. i know my answer."

jaehyun laughs back, pulling back so he can look you in the eye, "you know me too well."

jaehyun breathes you in.

"[y/n], will you marry me?"

for rosy who from literally part two of the spidermyung series has given me a comment along the lines of WHEN WILL THEY GET MARRIED AND BE HAPPY?? this is for you 🤞🤞

♡ or ↻ if you enjoyed, support your writers, thank you!!

he blinks, eyes focusing back on your hand waving in front of his face. you’re leaning forward, propping yourself up on the desk you’re both seated at. the hum of the library is thick, the clacking of computer keys and shuffling of papers nearly overwhelming in what one would normally consider to be relative silence.

“hey,” you say, tilting your head ever so slightly. “hey, you okay?”

leehan nods slowly, the effort needed to do such a simple motion surprisingly similar to moving underwater. “yeah. just… been staring at this computer for far too long.”

you ponder this for a moment before reaching out, tilting his laptop screen so that the document on screen disappears and the fish stickers on the back of the laptop come into view. he stares at you in surprise, watching as you close your own device and push back your chair, coming around the table to hold a hand out in front of him.

“come with me.”

“what-”

“leehan,” you say with all the mock seriousness that you can muster (he knows it’s not real because of the twinkle in your eyes, the way you’re fighting back a wide grin). “come with me.”

and who is he to refuse, when you’re right there and asking him to hold your hand?

so he takes your hand. he takes your hand, just like he’d taken your hand back then, and then you’re running through the shelves and the halls, muffled laughter bubbling up between the both of you, and your bright smile is back and your cheeks are round with happiness and gods, how is he here with you?

your hand is warm in his, much warmer than the burst of cold night air that envelops the two of you when you finally make it outside. the hour is late, but somehow the grassy field in front of the library feels different under the moonlight. you turn to him, breathless and all smiles, and the realization of just how close you two are crashes into him. he can see his face reflected in your eyes, wide and melding into the dilated pupils you’re gazing at him through, and he wonders what he must look like, from your point of view. he’s all you can see right now.

all he can see is you.

his breath stutters in his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks. they say the deeper you go in the ocean, the more the weight of the water presses down on your chest, heavier and heavier until you can’t breathe.

how far deep must he be right now, to be feeling like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs?

“oh,” you breathe slowly, and leehan cannot deny the simple fact that even such a small sound from you is lovely. you blink in what feels to be slow motion (or is the entire world underwater? the way your hair shifts in the wind, could it not be from the currents that hold the two of you afloat? the moonlight filters over the both of you like sunlight through water, the stars dotting the sky above you like seashells on a beach. is anything not possible when you’re standing here with him?)

you let out a breath, looking away from him, and leehan feels the currents twisting between you. “i’m sorry,” you say, stepping back and letting go of his hand, and now he’s falling, sinking, and his surroundings are so much colder now that you’re not anchoring him to the ground. something in his chest clenches (his lungs, still searching for air? his heart, searching for your warmth?), and it takes everything in him to push down all his inner turmoil and simply smile.

well. smile and reach back for your hand.

you glance up in surprise, inhaling sharply when he squeezes your fingers between his own. “don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “please.”

the look in your eyes is one he can’t read for one terrifying, endless moment. then you’re smiling again, squeezing back, and leehan knows he’ll fight back against the currents, swim up from the depths to get back to the surface, to the source of the light that filters over both of you.

a/n: something something depths of space... depths of the ocean... yeah. :]

٠ ࣪⭑ © starriniqhts 2026, all rights reserved.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

he blinks, eyes focusing back on your hand waving in front of his face. you’re leaning forward, propping yourself up on the desk you’re both seated at. the hum of the library is thick, the clacking of computer keys and shuffling of papers nearly overwhelming in what one would normally consider to be relative silence.

“hey,” you say, tilting your head ever so slightly. “hey, you okay?”

leehan nods slowly, the effort needed to do such a simple motion surprisingly similar to moving underwater. “yeah. just… been staring at this computer for far too long.”

you ponder this for a moment before reaching out, tilting his laptop screen so that the document on screen disappears and the fish stickers on the back of the laptop come into view. he stares at you in surprise, watching as you close your own device and push back your chair, coming around the table to hold a hand out in front of him.

“come with me.”

“what-”

“leehan,” you say with all the mock seriousness that you can muster (he knows it’s not real because of the twinkle in your eyes, the way you’re fighting back a wide grin). “come with me.”

and who is he to refuse, when you’re right there and asking him to hold your hand?

so he takes your hand. he takes your hand, just like he’d taken your hand back then, and then you’re running through the shelves and the halls, muffled laughter bubbling up between the both of you, and your bright smile is back and your cheeks are round with happiness and gods, how is he here with you?

your hand is warm in his, much warmer than the burst of cold night air that envelops the two of you when you finally make it outside. the hour is late, but somehow the grassy field in front of the library feels different under the moonlight. you turn to him, breathless and all smiles, and the realization of just how close you two are crashes into him. he can see his face reflected in your eyes, wide and melding into the dilated pupils you’re gazing at him through, and he wonders what he must look like, from your point of view. he’s all you can see right now.

all he can see is you.

his breath stutters in his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks. they say the deeper you go in the ocean, the more the weight of the water presses down on your chest, heavier and heavier until you can’t breathe.

how far deep must he be right now, to be feeling like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs?

“oh,” you breathe slowly, and leehan cannot deny the simple fact that even such a small sound from you is lovely. you blink in what feels to be slow motion (or is the entire world underwater? the way your hair shifts in the wind, could it not be from the currents that hold the two of you afloat? the moonlight filters over the both of you like sunlight through water, the stars dotting the sky above you like seashells on a beach. is anything not possible when you’re standing here with him?)

you let out a breath, looking away from him, and leehan feels the currents twisting between you. “i’m sorry,” you say, stepping back and letting go of his hand, and now he’s falling, sinking, and his surroundings are so much colder now that you’re not anchoring him to the ground. something in his chest clenches (his lungs, still searching for air? his heart, searching for your warmth?), and it takes everything in him to push down all his inner turmoil and simply smile.

well. smile and reach back for your hand.

you glance up in surprise, inhaling sharply when he squeezes your fingers between his own. “don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “please.”

the look in your eyes is one he can’t read for one terrifying, endless moment. then you’re smiling again, squeezing back, and leehan knows he’ll fight back against the currents, swim up from the depths to get back to the surface, to the source of the light that filters over both of you.

a/n: something something depths of space... depths of the ocean... yeah. :]

٠ ࣪⭑ © starriniqhts 2026, all rights reserved.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

he blinks, eyes focusing back on your hand waving in front of his face. you’re leaning forward, propping yourself up on the desk you’re both seated at. the hum of the library is thick, the clacking of computer keys and shuffling of papers nearly overwhelming in what one would normally consider to be relative silence.

“hey,” you say, tilting your head ever so slightly. “hey, you okay?”

leehan nods slowly, the effort needed to do such a simple motion surprisingly similar to moving underwater. “yeah. just… been staring at this computer for far too long.”

you ponder this for a moment before reaching out, tilting his laptop screen so that the document on screen disappears and the fish stickers on the back of the laptop come into view. he stares at you in surprise, watching as you close your own device and push back your chair, coming around the table to hold a hand out in front of him.

“come with me.”

“what-”

“leehan,” you say with all the mock seriousness that you can muster (he knows it’s not real because of the twinkle in your eyes, the way you’re fighting back a wide grin). “come with me.”

and who is he to refuse, when you’re right there and asking him to hold your hand?

so he takes your hand. he takes your hand, just like he’d taken your hand back then, and then you’re running through the shelves and the halls, muffled laughter bubbling up between the both of you, and your bright smile is back and your cheeks are round with happiness and gods, how is he here with you?

your hand is warm in his, much warmer than the burst of cold night air that envelops the two of you when you finally make it outside. the hour is late, but somehow the grassy field in front of the library feels different under the moonlight. you turn to him, breathless and all smiles, and the realization of just how close you two are crashes into him. he can see his face reflected in your eyes, wide and melding into the dilated pupils you’re gazing at him through, and he wonders what he must look like, from your point of view. he’s all you can see right now.

all he can see is you.

his breath stutters in his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks. they say the deeper you go in the ocean, the more the weight of the water presses down on your chest, heavier and heavier until you can’t breathe.

how far deep must he be right now, to be feeling like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs?

“oh,” you breathe slowly, and leehan cannot deny the simple fact that even such a small sound from you is lovely. you blink in what feels to be slow motion (or is the entire world underwater? the way your hair shifts in the wind, could it not be from the currents that hold the two of you afloat? the moonlight filters over the both of you like sunlight through water, the stars dotting the sky above you like seashells on a beach. is anything not possible when you’re standing here with him?)

you let out a breath, looking away from him, and leehan feels the currents twisting between you. “i’m sorry,” you say, stepping back and letting go of his hand, and now he’s falling, sinking, and his surroundings are so much colder now that you’re not anchoring him to the ground. something in his chest clenches (his lungs, still searching for air? his heart, searching for your warmth?), and it takes everything in him to push down all his inner turmoil and simply smile.

well. smile and reach back for your hand.

you glance up in surprise, inhaling sharply when he squeezes your fingers between his own. “don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “please.”

the look in your eyes is one he can’t read for one terrifying, endless moment. then you’re smiling again, squeezing back, and leehan knows he’ll fight back against the currents, swim up from the depths to get back to the surface, to the source of the light that filters over both of you.

a/n: something something depths of space... depths of the ocean... yeah. :]

٠ ࣪⭑ © starriniqhts 2026, all rights reserved.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

he blinks, eyes focusing back on your hand waving in front of his face. you’re leaning forward, propping yourself up on the desk you’re both seated at. the hum of the library is thick, the clacking of computer keys and shuffling of papers nearly overwhelming in what one would normally consider to be relative silence.

“hey,” you say, tilting your head ever so slightly. “hey, you okay?”

leehan nods slowly, the effort needed to do such a simple motion surprisingly similar to moving underwater. “yeah. just… been staring at this computer for far too long.”

you ponder this for a moment before reaching out, tilting his laptop screen so that the document on screen disappears and the fish stickers on the back of the laptop come into view. he stares at you in surprise, watching as you close your own device and push back your chair, coming around the table to hold a hand out in front of him.

“come with me.”

“what-”

“leehan,” you say with all the mock seriousness that you can muster (he knows it’s not real because of the twinkle in your eyes, the way you’re fighting back a wide grin). “come with me.”

and who is he to refuse, when you’re right there and asking him to hold your hand?

so he takes your hand. he takes your hand, just like he’d taken your hand back then, and then you’re running through the shelves and the halls, muffled laughter bubbling up between the both of you, and your bright smile is back and your cheeks are round with happiness and gods, how is he here with you?

your hand is warm in his, much warmer than the burst of cold night air that envelops the two of you when you finally make it outside. the hour is late, but somehow the grassy field in front of the library feels different under the moonlight. you turn to him, breathless and all smiles, and the realization of just how close you two are crashes into him. he can see his face reflected in your eyes, wide and melding into the dilated pupils you’re gazing at him through, and he wonders what he must look like, from your point of view. he’s all you can see right now.

all he can see is you.

his breath stutters in his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks. they say the deeper you go in the ocean, the more the weight of the water presses down on your chest, heavier and heavier until you can’t breathe.

how far deep must he be right now, to be feeling like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs?

“oh,” you breathe slowly, and leehan cannot deny the simple fact that even such a small sound from you is lovely. you blink in what feels to be slow motion (or is the entire world underwater? the way your hair shifts in the wind, could it not be from the currents that hold the two of you afloat? the moonlight filters over the both of you like sunlight through water, the stars dotting the sky above you like seashells on a beach. is anything not possible when you’re standing here with him?)

you let out a breath, looking away from him, and leehan feels the currents twisting between you. “i’m sorry,” you say, stepping back and letting go of his hand, and now he’s falling, sinking, and his surroundings are so much colder now that you’re not anchoring him to the ground. something in his chest clenches (his lungs, still searching for air? his heart, searching for your warmth?), and it takes everything in him to push down all his inner turmoil and simply smile.

well. smile and reach back for your hand.

you glance up in surprise, inhaling sharply when he squeezes your fingers between his own. “don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “please.”

the look in your eyes is one he can’t read for one terrifying, endless moment. then you’re smiling again, squeezing back, and leehan knows he’ll fight back against the currents, swim up from the depths to get back to the surface, to the source of the light that filters over both of you.

a/n: something something depths of space... depths of the ocean... yeah. :]

٠ ࣪⭑ © starriniqhts 2026, all rights reserved.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

he blinks, eyes focusing back on your hand waving in front of his face. you’re leaning forward, propping yourself up on the desk you’re both seated at. the hum of the library is thick, the clacking of computer keys and shuffling of papers nearly overwhelming in what one would normally consider to be relative silence.

“hey,” you say, tilting your head ever so slightly. “hey, you okay?”

leehan nods slowly, the effort needed to do such a simple motion surprisingly similar to moving underwater. “yeah. just… been staring at this computer for far too long.”

you ponder this for a moment before reaching out, tilting his laptop screen so that the document on screen disappears and the fish stickers on the back of the laptop come into view. he stares at you in surprise, watching as you close your own device and push back your chair, coming around the table to hold a hand out in front of him.

“come with me.”

“what-”

“leehan,” you say with all the mock seriousness that you can muster (he knows it’s not real because of the twinkle in your eyes, the way you’re fighting back a wide grin). “come with me.”

and who is he to refuse, when you’re right there and asking him to hold your hand?

so he takes your hand. he takes your hand, just like he’d taken your hand back then, and then you’re running through the shelves and the halls, muffled laughter bubbling up between the both of you, and your bright smile is back and your cheeks are round with happiness and gods, how is he here with you?

your hand is warm in his, much warmer than the burst of cold night air that envelops the two of you when you finally make it outside. the hour is late, but somehow the grassy field in front of the library feels different under the moonlight. you turn to him, breathless and all smiles, and the realization of just how close you two are crashes into him. he can see his face reflected in your eyes, wide and melding into the dilated pupils you’re gazing at him through, and he wonders what he must look like, from your point of view. he’s all you can see right now.

all he can see is you.

his breath stutters in his chest, heat rushing to his cheeks. they say the deeper you go in the ocean, the more the weight of the water presses down on your chest, heavier and heavier until you can’t breathe.

how far deep must he be right now, to be feeling like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs?

“oh,” you breathe slowly, and leehan cannot deny the simple fact that even such a small sound from you is lovely. you blink in what feels to be slow motion (or is the entire world underwater? the way your hair shifts in the wind, could it not be from the currents that hold the two of you afloat? the moonlight filters over the both of you like sunlight through water, the stars dotting the sky above you like seashells on a beach. is anything not possible when you’re standing here with him?)

you let out a breath, looking away from him, and leehan feels the currents twisting between you. “i’m sorry,” you say, stepping back and letting go of his hand, and now he’s falling, sinking, and his surroundings are so much colder now that you’re not anchoring him to the ground. something in his chest clenches (his lungs, still searching for air? his heart, searching for your warmth?), and it takes everything in him to push down all his inner turmoil and simply smile.

well. smile and reach back for your hand.

you glance up in surprise, inhaling sharply when he squeezes your fingers between his own. “don’t apologize,” he murmurs. “please.”

the look in your eyes is one he can’t read for one terrifying, endless moment. then you’re smiling again, squeezing back, and leehan knows he’ll fight back against the currents, swim up from the depths to get back to the surface, to the source of the light that filters over both of you.

a/n: something something depths of space... depths of the ocean... yeah. :]

٠ ࣪⭑ © starriniqhts 2026, all rights reserved.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ want to check out the planetarium's other exhibits?

When Sanghyuk started his neuroscience studies, he didn’t expect the world to go to shit midway and to end up working for the military on a technology so advanced even the best of the field could barely comprehend it. He has always thought that his professor has recommended him to the Busan Shatterdome because he was on the top of his classes and a scholarship kid, so he couldn’t really afford to say no. But now as he watches yet another neural bridge fall apart during a Drift test, he wonders if it has something to do with his (mind you, still unfinished) thesis research on brainwave behaviour when different types of memories are triggered.

Everyone knows that there are two main reasons why the number of successful Drifts are low: R.A.B.I.T and the modesty reflex. When Random Access Brain Impulse Triggers occur, the pilots get stuck in a memory blurring lines between reality and subconscious, which unstabilizes the connection both between them and the Jaeger. Or worst case, their actions in the memory get reflected in the robot’s movements which can cause huge damage. Modesty reflex is kind of the opposite: it’s a psychologists-coined term about when the pilots try to control what memories appear during Drift, usually out of embarrassment. It’s probably why a lot of cadets are unfit to actually pilot. It’s especially frustrating when it happens to pairs who would be perfect for the role on paper.

“Let’s pull them out,” Chaein suggests but before she could but even before she could manually stop the drifting process, the compatibility score displayed on the computer plunges from a promising 56% to zero. The girl cadet rips the helmet off her head and turns to the boy lying in the seat next to her with barely concealed anger. Sanghyuk half-expects her to hit him but then she just sighs and turns to him instead.

“He’s not letting me in. It’s not going to work. I don’t get why they are making us keep trying,” she says and Sanghyuk understands her frustration but the rules don’t allow him to tell her that out of all the cadets, their simulation scores and combat styles are the closest to compatibility. That’s why the Marshal is making them do a test run weekly. In about two months, the Mark-6 Jaeger will be ready and it will need pilots.

“It won’t change unless he gets his shit together,” the girl points out the obvious. 

“Maybe I would if you didn’t barrel into my mind like a bull as soon as we’re connected,” Kim Woonhak protests immediately as he has sat up. His words only make the girl scowl at him.

“I’m not! But you know what? Whatever. I will be a Jaeger pilot way sooner than you,” she says decidedly and marches out of the Drift Test Room. The door closes behind her with a loud bang. Chaein stands up and follows her.

When Sanghyuk looks back at Woonhak, he has the decency to look somewhat sheepish at least. It makes it impossible to be mad at him. Sanghyuk knows he shouldn’t but he has somewhat of a soft spot towards him. It’s hard not to when he sits down at his table in the canteen, calls him hyung and flatters his ego with awestruck looks when he learns about his job. So Sanghyuk sighs and just adds their results into the system.

“She’s right, you know? You should stop trying to control memories during Drift. Just… calm your mind and try not to think of anything. If a memory pops up, let it pass,” he says while typing in the usual metrics: Drift length, compatibility score, achieved phase, cause of instability.

“I managed to Drift with Minjae though,” the cadet points out defensively and Sanghyuk gives him an unimpressed look.

“Yeah and then couldn’t keep the connection stable for five seconds because you kept laughing at something in your memories,” he reminds him, then after a deliberate pause turns in his chair to face him. “Look, Woonhak, you can be the best fighter out there but if you can’t Drift, you can’t pilot a Jaeger.”

“I knoow,” the boy whines not unlike how he does when Han Dongmin steals his fries during lunch. He looks like a defiant child when he insists: “But I can’t do it with her. She is like the bane of my existence."

Sanghyuk rubs his temple. Big words.

“She’s one of the best cadets,” he reminds him even though he knows Woonhak is well aware. The two of them have been competing ever since the boy set foot in Busan. It probably had something to do with the girl humiliating him during their first time on the Kwoon combat mat. Sanghyuk never asked, he isn’t nosy like that, Woonhak just likes to overshare and gossip goes around quickly in the Shatterdome. “Anyways, send in the next pair and don’t forget to meditate before our next session. I will know if you skip it.”

Woonhak salutes and makes promises he probably won’t keep because he has trouble sitting in one place for too long. Sanghyuk doesn’t have it in him to be angry, so he just prepares the Drift setup for the next cadet duo.

He’s ready to clock out from work for the day and get some fresh air that’s not the overly sterilized smell of K-Science wing or the accumulated rust, burned metal and grease from the J-Tech wing when the Marshal calls for him. Now, that’s not often that it happens, so he can’t help but wonder what he did… or didn’t do. Then maybe the man merely wants to ask about his personal opinion beyond the numbers about the cadets. He isn’t delusional about his position in the organization when the head of their department is right there but Miss Kim is rarely in for cadet tests since she’s more concerned with active Rangers.

“You called for me, sir?” Sanghyuk steps into the Marshal’s office after politely knocking and waiting to be granted permission to go in.

“Ah, Sanghyuk, yes. Please sit,” the man instructs him and shuffles through a pile of dossiers on top of his desk. He’s not the type of person to go in a roundabout way about anything and Sanghyuk appreciates his directness when he slides one of the folders in front of him. “PPDC transfers here a Ranger from Incheon for rehabilitation.”

Sanghyuk lets the last word echo in the room like a gunshot. He knows what it means. Something happened and the soldier is now unqualified to pilot. He opens the folder and scans through the first page. The girl in the picture is vaguely familiar to him but he can’t quite place where from until he spots the Jaeger name: Vicious Siege. It was all over the news a few months ago.

“Y/N lost her partner during the Shanghai attack. She has recovered since physically but mentally she has been struggling,” the Marshal continues while Sanghyuk reads further. Nightmares. Anxiety. Survivor’s guilt. It sounds like something a psychologist could help with, not him. So he doesn’t understand. He looks up at his superior, the question on the tip of his mouth but the man is already ready with the answer: “She wants to Drift again.”

“Oh,” Sanghyuk mutters and glances at the girl in the picture again while the Marshal talks about objectives and changes in his schedule. He nods robotically but his thoughts are miles away.

PTSD is not unusual, a lot of Jaeger pilots experience various versions of it. Some can’t make themselves get in a Jaeger again after seeing a Kaiju in real life. Some can’t overcome a traumatic Drift experience or losing their co-pilot. Usually when a Jaeger is destroyed, both pilots die, either from actual physical reasons like the Kaiju piercing through the Conn-Pod or sinking to the bottom of the ocean with their oxygen supplies cut, but it can happen from the mental stress as well. It’s rarer that one of the pilots survives and Sanghyuk hasn’t heard of a case when they went back to field ever again. They’re usually discharged from Ranger duties if not altogether leave behind their career at PPDC.

As he’s leaving the Marshal’s office with a dossier in hand, he can’t help but wonder what makes you want to be wired up to a machine again. Patriotism? Guilt? Or you just have something to prove?

Word gets around quickly in the Shatterdome about the new transfer and the whispers are quite loud. Everybody has heard of what happened with Vicious Siege. Everybody knows that only one of the pilots made it back alive. Everybody has different theories why.

The classified case file in Sanghyuk hand feels heavy.. He started reading it the day before but stopped after half a page. It just felt wrong to read about the tragic events so clinically described with numbers he knows well: Drift parameters, Jaeger sync data, Rangers referred to with numbers instead of names…

He knew what he needed to know. Nobody could forget the Shanghai attack. It was the first time a Category V Kaiju came from the Pacific Rim. It was not only massive in size but it was smarter than any of its peers, almost like these creatures learn and evolve even if Jaegers keep killing them off. This Kaiju hid in the waters and attacked from behind, bit into Vicious Siege’s leg and dragged it underwater then pierced through the robot’s body again and again with its spiky tail. The LOCCENT lost contact with the Jaeger after the Conn-Pod was breached. If the backup didn’t arrive in time from Hongkong and Fukuoka, the Kaiju would have surely left an unprecedented damage on the Chinese coastline. The broadcast was cut off right after the Kaiju was declared dead. Everybody was celebrating when not even twenty minutes later the news came: one pilot in critical condition and one dead.

Sanghyuk isn’t sure what he expected from meeting somebody who has been so close to being grasped by Death but when you walk into the Drift Test Room, it’s different. You don’t wear the usual Ranger uniform but two sets of dog tags still hang from your neck. You don’t carry yourself like something broken but there’s something ghost-like in your eyes, like you are not really there.

He stands up from behind the computer.

“Ranger L/N–” He greets you politely and bites his tongue where a sliver of hurt flashes in your eyes. What a great way to start, he internally scolds himself.

“I’m not a Ranger anymore,” you correct him in a neutral voice that makes him wonder whether it’s just how you think or you have been officially discharged from the post. But why would they go along with the drifting practice if either was the case? PPDC isn’t famous for its generosity when it comes to its resources.

Your attitude doesn’t tell much about your reasons as you glance around the room that’s not much more than a Pons system and two drifting seats. There are not even windows there, just the quiet hum of the ventilation system and for a moment Sanghyuk worries that it might bring a claustrophobic feeling and bad memories but then you turn back to him with a small smile on your face.

“Just Y/N is fine,” you tell him, your dry, bitten lips curling up slightly. He can’t tell who you’re trying to fool: him or yourself. “You’re Lee Sanghyuk, right?”

He nods and pulls out the extra chair from behind the computer. He doesn’t want to jump straight into drifting practice. He needs to know what to expect.

“The Marshal told me you want to practice drifting alone to see if you can still maintain a stable connection,” he says once you’re seated and he sits down as well. He wants to be on the same page with you about what you expect from these sessions. The Marshal also told him that every Drift initiated back in Incheon went awry, so going back to the foundation seems like a good idea. Cadets start drifting alone just to get used to having their minds hooked onto a machine before being paired up to attempt proper Neural Handshakes. 

“Yes, that’s what I told him,” you nod and Sanghyuk can tell that there’s more to it, so he raises an eyebrow at you in a silent question, not pushing, not rushing, just waiting. Eventually you give in. “But I don’t want you to pull me out when I get R.A.B.I.T.”

He notes that you say when and not if, almost like you’re sure it would happen or maybe you would even want it to. You’re a Ranger with experience: you have run through countless Drift tests, full-on simulations and even real Drifts. Sure, the trauma you have suffered could affect your ability to do so but even then the pattern your test results from Incheon show is too much of a coincidence: being hit by R.A.B.I.T every single time right after connection is established.

Almost like you’re not even trying to empty your thoughts and stabilize the connection.

“You want to relive your memories,” he realizes. It’s not a question but he looks at you for some kind of confirmation. You keep eye contact stubbornly, not denying it and that says enough.

“I was a left hemisphere pilot. Do you know what that means?” You ask as you glance sideways at the drifting seats.

It doesn’t sound like you expect him to say anything, so he keeps his mouth shut. Of course he knows. Right-hand pilots are considered the dominant ones. In case of conflicting decisions from the two sides, the right one would overrule the left. It also makes them have better chances at survival purely because of the instinctual brain reaction that also makes car drivers turn the steering wheel away when seeing danger.

“Statistically, logically, it should be me who’s dead. And I don’t remember why I’m not.”

There’s a tremble in your voice as you say that and your knuckles whiten as you curl your fingers into the chair you sit on. It’s the first crack in the strong facade you’ve put up so far. It does explain though why you would like to chase the rabbit on purpose. A Drift usually brings back memories from the subconscious even if they’re suppressed or old enough to be forgotten. But there’s always a reason why the brain decides to smudge details.

Once again Sanghyuk feels a bit out of his element. His job is to make sure drifting processes are safe and teach the cadets how to prepare for it, it’s not his responsibility to tell you that it’s a bad idea to relive traumatic memories even if he thinks so.

“Are you sure this is the best solution?” He asks quietly as he pushes back up his glasses and pinches his nose bridge. When he opens his eyes again, you’re looking back at him with something pensive swimming in your eyes.

“My psychologist told me not to force it. According to him I just need to get out more, make new friends, get new experiences. He says it will get better with time. He’s probably right but it’s hard to believe him when I still wake up crying or screaming in the middle of the night.”

Your honesty leaves Sanghyuk speechless for a bit. He’s not good with vulnerability, not his and much less others’. It always makes him feel like opening the door to something he shouldn’t see.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, not because it’s anywhere near his fault but because he doesn’t think anybody deserves to be plagued by nightmares and the heavy weight of grief and guilt. But like it or not, that’s the world they live in now. Marred with unfair losses and constant fear.

You shake your head but even when your hair falls into your eyes, you don’t bother to brush it away. It’s almost like you don’t even notice it because you have more important things to focus on.

“I didn’t tell you this to get your sympathy. I just want you to understand why I need to do this,” you tell him, determined. He might not understand it fully yet but he has no professional reason to stop you.

“If you’re really sure, we can try,” he says, reaching towards the computer to switch on the Pons systems and load in your data. “I won’t pull you out unless it’s starting to overwhelm you.”

That’s the most he can promise you. He won’t let you risk your life over memories no matter how important they are. You probably understand the weight of that responsibility too because you don’t argue, just nod and walk over to the drifting seat. It’s different from the proper Drivesuit with spinal clamps you’re probably more used to but for test runs, it’s unnecessary to get connected to something as complex as a Jaeger, for a simple Pons system a much lighter equipment is enough to imitate a Drift.

What comes after you’re seated is all part of the routine: he puts a pulse oximeter on your right index finger and a patch on the top of your spine. He hands you a Pons helmet which is also full of sensors. His computer screen fills with data about your heartbeat, hormone levels, brain activity and such. Everything looks normal. Sanghyuk expected elevated levels of sweat functions and rapid pulse but you seem calm. Then he realizes you have done this dozens of times if not hundreds. Of course you know how to regulate your reactions. The issues start when your subconsciousness takes over.

“Ready?”

Your gazes meet as you nod, then you close your eyes and he presses a button.

“Test Drift initiated,” a robotic voice announces and Sanghyuk watches your body tense up.

It will rain.

Dark splashes of clouds are gathering on the horizon and the waves are getting wilder by the minute. He can practically smell the rain in the air already, humid and heavy. He knows he should go inside but doesn’t move, just watches the sea eat up the beach, waves licking at the Shatterdome’s massive walls.

Over the sound of the sea and his loud thoughts, he hears the rooftop’s door open and close behind him faintly and then soon enough there’s a solid body right beside him.

“What’s gotten you so zoned out?” Jaehyun gets all into his space, rubbing their arms together like he needs the warmth of another person. Maybe he does: he has been surrounded by giant mecha parts all day and it’s not like the technicians can chit-chat among themselves at the workstation while drilling, laser cutting, forging and such. He’s still in his work overalls, smelling faintly of grease but Sanghyuk doesn’t mind; it’s familiar.

“If you watched somebody really close to you die, would you want to remember it? Even recall it on purpose?” The question stumbles out of his mouth after careful consideration. Not because he’s afraid Jaehyun wouldn’t take it seriously but because he isn’t sure how much he can tell without exposing too much. Nobody knows he has been assigned to guide you through Drifts again but it’s only a matter of time.

“I guess it depends on what happened. If they passed away in a brutal way, I don’t think I could stomach seeing it again but otherwise I would want to cherish our last memory together,” Jaehyun hums, leaning more into him when a particularly cold blow of air comes their way.

“Wouldn’t it be better to focus on the happy memories with them?”

“Life’s not all about the happy parts,” the J-Technician matters, thoughtful, before his mouth forms a grin and he playfully nudges into Sanghyuk’s side. “We wouldn’t have even met if it wasn’t for Kaijus trying to kill us.”

That makes Sanghyuk smile too and he lets Jaehyun drag him inside when the first big droplets of the rainstorm reach them.

When you started crying and your cortisol levels were rising during the first time he was watching over your Drift, he had the urge to go against your request and stop the process immediately but he respected you enough not to. The fact that you were there and trying shows that you’re stronger than most people. He swore he wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating you.

Now, you’re coming back every other day to try again and again and again.

Sometimes you don’t get to latch onto the memory you’re looking for. It’s always quite obvious when that happens because your charts are normal, your numbers are much less frantic. Afterwards sometimes you tell him bits about the memory you saw: your father teaching you to bike, the trouble you used to get in at school for not paying attention or your first time on the mat with your co-pilot. Sometimes you’re quiet and he knows better than to ask. He just shares his stack of sweets with you.

Other times you startle out of the Drift by yourself almost right after the initial connection is established. It’s like your brain has a built-in safety switch whenever you get close to remembering. You don’t say anything but Sanghyuk can tell that you’re getting frustrated whenever that happens, so he reads through every available neuroscience and psychology paper on the topic. He suggests doing thought experiments, brain dumps, walking him through that day until you remember.

He already knows how it went: the exact steps to the Conn-Pod from your bunk bed, the shade of the liquid filling your Drivesuit after the spinal cords are attached, your argument with your co-pilot the day before about something ridiculous, the eerie feeling of being watched after being dropped down into the ocean with no Kaiju in sight and then the yank from under the surface.

But the memories are not always sequential. He sees the exact moment something goes differently during your next Drift. Your body switches to fight-or-flight mode and your heart rate goes crazy. Your breathing becomes erratic and he can see the adrenaline spike on your hormone chart. It’s when you start shaking and whimpering your former partner’s name when Sanghyuk ultimately decides on pressing the kill switch and pulls you out of the Drift, disconnecting you from the machine. Even after the connection goes dead you can barely catch your breath beneath the Pons helmet.

“Y/N?” He calls your name, gently, trying not to startle you when he puts a hand over your arm. Your skin is cold and dressed in a thin layer of sheer sweat. You don’t answer but your body is still heaving and it scares him.

“Y/N… Can you hear me?” He takes the helmet off you and cradles your jaw in one hand, checking your forehead for fever with his other. You can barely open your eyes and keep gasping for air.

“I– I can’t breathe… I–” You mutter, clearly hyperventilating as you grab onto his wrist for some kind of anchor and Sanghyuk tries his best to stay still. He has had to calm down cadets too when a Drift attempt overwhelmed them but this is different. He lets you lean your weight on him and puts his free hand gingerly on your back while you’re sobbing into his shoulder.

“It’s gonna be alright. Listen to me, okay? We’re going to breathe slowly. In–” he instructs and demonstrates a long, deep inhale, encouraging you to follow him. “Then out.”

He repeats the pattern a few times until you’re doing well enough on your own, tears drying on your cheeks just before the panic settles over. It takes a few minutes of nothing but silence and quiet breathing but he can finally feel your body relax against him. It makes him relieved too. 

“Sorry,” you whisper into the air between when you pull back and realize that your tears have left a wet patch on his shirt.

“Don’t be,” Sanghyuk simply shakes his head and watches you carefully. “Do you feel somewhat better?”

“Yes but…” you cast your eyes down, cracking your fingers in your lap. “I was so close this time. I saw the Kaiju’s tail pierce through the Conn-Pod’s glass. We lost connection to the LOCCENT and the pod started to get filled with water. It felt like drowning.”

Your voice is still weak and you look visibly shaken up but at least you’re more present than before. Seeing you like this breaks Sanghyuk’s heart a little.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” He finds himself asking because even though he understands why you would like to remember, he’s starting to think that maybe it’s better that you don’t. There must be a good reason why your subconscious is fighting back so intensely.

When you don’t answer, just sink your teeth into your already chapped lips like you’re trying to hold yourself back, he doesn’t push.

“I have this sort of hiding place where I go when things get a bit too much. Not that much of a hiding place anymore actually since my friends found out but it’s still nice,” he changes topic. It’s quite unprofessional of him, so he doesn’t blame you for looking at him surprised, but he pushes through the awkwardness. “Would you like to check it out?”

There’s a long moment of silence as you stare at him and he thinks you will call him out on acting weirdly. But instead, a shadow of a smile appears on your lips before nodding.

So Sanghyuk takes you to the rooftop and indulges your questions about how he figured out that the door leading there is never locked, about his friends who sometimes bother his peace even when he just wants to be alone (because they know as an overthinker it’s bad to let him simmer too long alone with his thoughts), about his job and what he likes about it. You even seem to appreciate his nerdy neuroscience fun facts about spinal cord mechanisms and neurons and such. You’re especially invested when he tells you that the reason why PPDC is pushing the Jaeger Academy programs is because the newest research shows that pilots under the age of 25, whose frontal lobe development hasn’t finished yet, are often handling Drifting better than their older counterparts. He talks about memory capacity and how access time changes with age and you joke that you would have paid more attention in training if he was your drift specialist back then. Sanghyuk blushes like a teenager because of that.

The two of you talk until the Sun sets and you seem much better than back in the Drift test room. It’s nice, just sharing a space and sharing stories. For a while it’s easy to forget that humanity is still fighting a deadly war.

Then two days later the attack alarm sets off and Sanghyuk watches through a screen as Canada loses a Jaeger and two Rangers. When he finds you in the crowd, you're shaking. He holds you until it stops.

“Would you drift with me?”

Sanghyuk can’t even pretend he is not taken aback when that question falls from your lips during your next session. You have barely lowered yourself into the seat and he got ready to set up the machine when you speak up. For a bit he thinks he has heard you wrong.

“What?”

“Maybe I could stay in the memory longer if I had somebody with me,” you say, more certain, like you have thought about it before. But you haven’t drifted with anybody since the Shanghai incident, so if you were, he would imagine it being better with somebody with more experience. The last time Sanghyuk drifted with somebody was during training when he got this job. So he’s about to protest, not because the thought of bearing your memories is too heavy but because you deserve better. A proper chance.

He doesn’t know yet that you don’t want anybody else. You want it to be him.

“And I… I trust you,” you whisper and that’s enough to make him give in.

That’s a big thing, a lot of responsibility. You’re entrusting him with your most traumatic memory. But two people drifting is never a one-way street, you would also poke into his brain. He knows it best that he shouldn’t control what comes to the surface once you’re connected but he realizes that with you, he doesn’t mind that vulnerability.

“Let me get Chaein,” is all he says and pretends not to notice your shoulders dropping in relief.

He finds the other drift specialist hanging out with the LOCCENT girls. When he steps into their circle and all of them look at him expectedly, he suddenly gets why even Jaehyun thinks twice before approaching a group of girls alone. They’re a bit scary.

“Uhm, hi! Can I borrow Chaein for a bit? I need her help with a Drift test,” he gets to the point in one big breath and luckily the girl is cool enough with the interruption. She’s not too weirded out about the idea of him drifting either and knows better than to ask one too many questions, so it’s all good.

In theory Sanghyuk knows everything about the drifting process. He has assisted probably hundreds since he came to the Shatterdome. He has helped dozens cadets master the art of emptying their thoughts and guided them through a smoother connection. And yet, it’s very different when it’s him who’s sitting in one of the seats. He keeps fidgeting with the Pons in his lap. He doesn’t want to mess this up for you. He would like it if he could help, if you were right about having him there with you could give you the push you need.

“You can still say no,” you remind him, patient, understanding but Sanghyuk shakes his head. How could he not do this when you have gone through hell? When you have been waking up in cold sweat for months? When you need this to move on? What kind of person – friend – he would be if he wouldn’t do so much for you? Or at least tried?

“Not happening. Unless you changed your mind?” He tilts his head, giving you a way out too, but you don’t take it. He smiles at you encouragingly before he puts on the helmet and leans back in the seat.

Chaein counts down and he closes his eyes, thinking of nothing but an empty space.

“Test Drift initiated,” the familiar robotic voice chimes and he feels thousands of tiny neuron shocks in his brain. Or maybe he just imagines it because he knows that’s how it’s supposed to go. For a long moment nothing happens, everything remains blank and static. He’s almost tempted to open his eyes. Maybe it’s not working. It would make sense on the first try. Two people might not need to be drift compatible to complete a test run but it’s still rare to immediately connect.

Then when he’s just about to give up, a white flash blinds him and suddenly he’s on a carousel of memories. They float around him like horses on that damned thing, spinning and moving up and down. He catches a few he recognizes: the last time he called his mom, that time he broke his arm in middle school, Jaehyun sitting at his table in the canteen after he spent his first two weeks at the Shatterdome making sure he sat alone. But he also sees unfamiliar faces and places and he knows these are your memories mixing with his.

He has never experienced R.A.B.I.T. himself, so he isn’t quite sure what to expect. When suddenly the world stops moving and everything stills like a movie frame, for a moment he thinks it’s over and you managed to connect with him successfully. But then he hears the loud beeping of a machine and feels something wet at his feet. He looks down and sees the rising sea water at his ankles. When he looks back up he’s suddenly in a Conn-Pod and there you are: attached with your Drivesuit’s spinal cord to the Jaeger right next to your co-pilot. You look horrified, eyes wide behind the shield of your helmet as you assess the damage in the cockpit around you.

Sanghyuk turns his head to the cracking glass of the Conn-Pod and his blood freezes when he sees the Kaiju’s massive scaled backside, its tail piercing right through everything that holds the control center of the Jaeger together.

“We lost connection to LOCCENT,” he hears your voice but he can’t be sure if it’s said out loud or it’s just in his mind. You’re connected after all. All of you: he’s wired to you who is in your past self’s body who is connected to your co-pilot. “Why is the plasmacaster not working? It will drown us at this rate. We should– Unnie…”

Your voice trails off and as Sanghyuk follows your gaze, the memory glitches, like an old television when the signal is too weak. Everything seems to blur around him and he feels you panic but it could be both present you or memory you.

“Stay with me, Y/N. You can do it,” he says, gentle and coaxing, trying to guide you with his voice. He isn’t sure you hear him at all but slowly his surroundings sharpen once again and suddenly everything is blaring and red around them. That’s when he sees it: your co-pilot’s Drivesuit slashed open and blood dripping down her side. It must have been the Kaiju’s spiky tail’s doing.

When your partner’s knees give out and you lean down to help her up, the Jaeger stumbles too. The movement makes the mecha sink fully beneath sea level and the Conn-Pod is rapidly filling with salty water. through the tail-shaped hole in the glass.

Sanghyuk feels himself lose balance and the memory gets blurry again. He calls your name.

The other girl whimpers something in pain but he can’t hear what she’s saying, only your loud protests:

“What? No! I’m not leaving you!”

The Jaeger gets another hit in the side and the warning signals are getting louder.

“Rangers are out of alignment. Jaeger shutdown initiated. Get ready for evacuation. Countdown from 10 starting…”

The water already reaches Sanghyuk’s knees. He knows it’s a memory, he knows it can’t hurt him but it all feels very real. Because it’s real to you. You have lived it through. You have watched your closest friend use the last of her strength to push you back into your hemisphere.

“Y/N… you need to survive.”

It’s the last thing your co-pilot tells you before she presses a button on the holographic screen hovering in front of her. Your pod closes around your body and you get ejected from the failing Jaeger. Somewhere between the disorienting sensation of the push and coming up on the surface of the sea, you feel it: the bone-deep fear and the inevitability of death. Not yours.

You faint.

The neural bridge collapses.

Sanghyuk is yanked out of the Drift.

He’s told that you need to stay in the infirmary under supervision for twenty-four hours. It’s nothing serious, just out of precaution, the nurse tells him when he visits. Han Dongmin has to drag him out of there, which is ironic if one knows anything about how much time the Ranger spends around the nurse station.

Sanghyuk has a hard time focusing during Drift tests the next day. Not even Woonhak’s bickering with his so-called nemesis can steal much of his attention. By the time all the cadets assigned for the day are finished, your infirmary bed is empty and it has him worried sick. It must be written on his face because Mrs Hwang is quick to reassure him:

“She’s fine. She was discharged not long ago.”

Sanghyuk thanks her and leaves the sterile corridors to wander around the Shatterdome aimlessly. His feet lead him to the rooftop like always. He expects it to be empty or maybe to find Jaehyun there moping about that girl that keeps breaking his heart but instead it’s you there.

The wind is blowing your hair wildly and the orange glow of sunset is like a halo around you. You look like something divine, like you were born out of sea and sunshine.

“Stealing my spot?” Sanghyuk’s words are laced with casual playfulness and he hopes it’s enough to dissipate any remaining awkwardness that might have followed the Drift session. He wonders whether you still hear the ghost of his voice in the back of your mind just how he hears yours, a side effect of the abrupt disconnect from the hardware.

“Maybe,” you answer with a twitch in the corner of your mouth as you turn to him. You stay still when he sits down next to you, fingers drumming on the concrete beneath you.

“Are you okay?” The boy finds himself asking quietly. He doesn’t mean it physically. A lot of people get overwhelmed from Drifts, especially after experiencing R.A.B.I.T. but your case is special. For you it wasn’t just a one time thing. That memory was buried under fear and denial. Recalling it was probably your final goodbye to your other half.

“I will be,” you nod slowly. “For the longest time I thought that it was somehow my fault. Maybe I did something stupid or I froze and that’s why I didn’t remember but… she saved me. She would want me to live fully, so I guess the least I can do is to try.”

Sanghyuk knows it’s not easy. Healing from such trauma is never just a walk in the park. You will need more time to be able to sleep through the night without nightmares and to be able to watch Kaiju attack broadcasts without breaking down. But the most important thing is to not give up. After all, sometimes the greatest wars are fought against ourselves.

“So what now? Now that you know what happened?” He questions.

The Marshal had already told him earlier that day that you would officially withdraw from the Ranger program, so more Drift sessions wouldn’t be necessary. He couldn’t help but wonder whether it meant you would go back home. You have no reason to stay in Busan after all.

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think that ahead. I don’t think I could ever get in a Jaeger again but maybe I will ask the Marshal if I could help with the cadet training.”

You sound uncertain even though it makes perfect sense. You might not have as much experience as Dongmin and his co-pilot, but you have more free time, so you could help out efficiently. However, you didn’t clarify where or which Marshal, so Sanghyuk just has to make sure:

“Here?”

This time you don’t even hesitate.

“Yeah. I’m doing better here. In Incheon everything reminds me of her,” you explain calmly and Sanghyuk tries not to show it but the thought of you staying makes him giddier than he expected. He doesn’t have the excuse of semi-daily Drift sessions to see you though, so after a few long seconds, accompanied by the crashing sound of waves, he takes a leap.

“Since you’re staying... How do you feel about a city tour? I know cool places outside of the Shatterdome too,” he proposes and he’s itching to tell you about this waffle place where every topping combo is named after a Jaeger.

“I could be convinced,” you smile at him with a crunched nose and sparkling eyes. It’s the brightest thing Sanghyuk has seen all day and he thinks he could spend the rest of his life trying to make you smile again.

END NOTES. header pic from the action concept photos

title from the taylor swift song, i think this part fits them:

To that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, the worst was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

☆ BOYNEXTDOOR masterlist

💌 askbox