aristocracy 。

the sun is just beginning to rise, casting a fiery glow over the horizon, but it is jaekyung’s own flames that will soon eclipse its warmth.

a seasoned firebender from the fire kingdom, he stands at the edge of the earth kingdom village of gao’s rest, his fists clenched tightly, his brow furrowed. the village is unremarkable in many ways—a small collection of earthen houses, humble fields of crops, and a few dirt paths that connect the buildings. yet, to jaekyung, it is the site of an internal struggle far more complex than any battlefield he has faced before.

jaekyung has been raised in the fire kingdom, where honor and loyalty to the crown are ingrained into the very fabric of his being. from a young age, he’d been trained in the art of firebending, a gift that he once cherished as a symbol of his strength and the glory of his nation. 

over the years, he’d risen through the ranks of the military; his loyalty used to be considered unquestionable, his resolve unshakable—until now.

the orders have come down from the highest levels of command: gao’s rest is to be razed to the ground. the village, they say, is harboring rebels—earth kingdom insurgents who have been a thorn in the fire kingdom’s side for far too long. this is not a military outpost or a city with strategic importance; it is a small village, home to farmers and craftsmen, families who have lived there for generations. 

but jaekyung’s orders are clear: leave nothing standing.

as he stands on the outskirts of the village, his mind is a storm of conflicting emotions. the soldiers under his command are already moving into position, their faces a mix of grim determination and the cold detachment that comes with carrying out such orders. jaekyung knows what is expected of him. he has done this before, in other places, under different circumstances. but something about this village—its quiet, its simplicity, its innocence—gnaws at him.

he has always been proud of his ability to command fire, to bend it to his will, to wield it as both a weapon and a tool. but in this moment, the fire feels different. no longer a symbol of his power, it is now a harbinger of destruction, of loss, of pain. he can almost feel the heat of the flames on his skin, and it burns not just his flesh, but his conscience.

the villagers are going about their morning routines, unaware of the fate that is about to befall them. a child runs past him, laughing, chasing a chicken that has escaped from its pen. an elderly woman tends to a small garden, her hands carefully pulling weeds from the soil. these are not rebels, jaekyung thinks. these are just people, living their lives, trying to survive in a world torn apart by war.

jaekyung closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. he feels the heat rising in him, his firebending instinctively responding to the turmoil within. his hands begin to glow with the familiar orange light, but he hesitates. his orders are clear, but his heart is not.

he thinks of his own family, back in the fire kingdom. his parents, who raised him to be strong and honorable. his sister, who has always looked up to him, proud of the warrior he has become. what would they think if they saw him now, about to bring devastation to people who have done nothing to deserve it?

he turns.

his soldiers are waiting for him, ready to carry out his orders.

“we’re leaving,” jaekyung says quietly, his voice steady but firm.

one of his lieutenants, a firebender younger than him, looks at him in confusion. ‘but sir, the orders—’

“the orders were wrong,” jaekyung interrupts, his tone leaving no room for argument. “there are no rebels here, only innocent people. we’re not going to harm them.”

the lieutenant hesitates, clearly torn between his loyalty and his duty to follow orders. but the conviction in jaekyung’s voice, the certainty in his eyes, leaves no room for doubt. slowly, the younger man nods, and the other soldiers follow suit.

jaekyung knows that when he returns to the fire kingdom, there will be consequences. he will most likely be stripped of his rank, maybe even imprisoned for his disobedience. but as he walks away from the village, the sun now fully risen, casting its warm light over the land, he feels like he has done the right thing.

the grand cathedral stands resolute against the night sky, its towering spires piercing the heavens, illuminated by the soft, flickering light of countless candles.

inside, the atmosphere is thick with the scent of incense and the weight of unspoken prayers. the faithful, scattered across the rows of benches, kneel in silent reverence, their eyes fixed on the crucifix that dominates the altar. 

amidst this sanctuary of quiet contemplation, a hunched silhouette hasn’t moved in hours.

sinyoung kneels before the altar, his hands clasped tightly together, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. he’s been here for hours, knees aching from the cold stone floor, but he doesn’t move. his lips murmur a prayer, barely audible, as he implores the heavens for the safety of his fiancée. 

a fiancée he has never met. 

a fiancée who is now in the clutches of his own brother.

the woman he prays for is a stranger to him, a pawn in a political game orchestrated by his father. the marriage has been arranged to solidify an alliance, to bring stability to the kingdom, and to heal old wounds. but this union, this forced bond, feels like a chain around sinyoung’s neck, tightening with each passing day.

but despite his misgivings, he still prays. he prays because it’s his duty, because his father has commanded it, and because, deep down, he knows that the life of an innocent woman hangs in the balance. the very thought of her—alone, terrified, at the mercy of a man as ruthless as hwan—fills him with a guilt that gnaws at his heart. but with that comes another emotion, one that he tries to suppress: anger.

sinyoung often wonders how different their lives might have been if their father had not turned his back on hwan, if the once-favored son had not been condemned to a life of exile and infamy. the traits he once used to admire in his elder half-brother are the ones that now threaten a military conflict; in a different context, it might have been hwan who would have fought to protect her, who would have loved her with the same intensity that he now reserves for his vendetta against their father.

the irony isn’t lost on sinyoung.

their father is a man of iron will and unyielding principles. his reign has been marked by a relentless pursuit of power and stability, often at the cost of personal relationships. sinyoung’s impending marriage is yet another example of the king’s ruthless pragmatism. it is not about love or even mutual respect; it is about power, about solidifying alliances, and most importantly, about taking revenge.

he has never forgiven hwan for the disgrace he believes the former crown prince has brought upon the family. to the king, hwan’s actions are the ultimate betrayal, a wound to his pride and his legacy. the kidnapping of sinyoung’s fiancée has only fueled his rage, and it’s clear to sinyoung that he’s expected to play his part in the retribution—as the last remaining son, such as he is.

and yet, he isn’t his father.

his heart recoils at the thought of using his fiancée as a pawn in a game of vengeance. he can’t bring himself to view her as merely a means to an end, as his father does. she is a person, with her own hopes, fears, and dreams, and the thought of her suffering tears at him. but there’s a small part of him that does understand his father’s fury; hwan and his men have committed countless atrocities, and his actions have brought shame, dishonor as well as pain to the innocent. he can’t dismiss the need for justice.

but what would justice even look like? 

is it the cold, calculated revenge that his father seeks, or is it something more? something that takes into account the humanity of all those involved?

he has been raised to be a prince, to put the needs of the realm above his own, to sacrifice personal happiness for the greater good. it is a lesson that has been drilled into him since he could think, and it is a lesson that he has always taken to heart. but now, faced with the reality of what that duty entails, he finds himself questioning everything he has been taught.

what kind of man will he become if he allows his father’s thirst for revenge to dictate his actions? what kind of king will he be if he places power and retribution above compassion and justice? 

these questions haunt him but the heavens continue to remain silent.

his mind drifts to thoughts of his fiancée. he has seen a portrait of her once, a small, delicate painting that captures her in a moment of serene beauty; dressed in a lovely gown the shade of the sea, long hair cascading over her shoulders. a fleeting image, a mere representation, but it has stayed with him. he wonders what she is truly like, what kind of person she is. does she dream of love and happiness, or has she resigned herself to the fate that has been chosen for her?

he doesn’t know his fiancée, and he doesn’t know if he can love her. but he does know that he can’t stand idly by while she suffers.

he’ll never know the answers to these questions unless he finds her but the prospect of doing so fills him with dread. not because he fears hwan—though his brother is a formidable foe—but because he fears what he might become in the process. 

he fears that in saving her, he might lose a part of himself, that he might become the very thing he despises.

and then the heavy doors of the cathedral creak open.

sinyoung doesn’t turn immediately, thoughts still tangling with the mess of emotions swirling inside of him, but he recognizes the deliberate, measured footsteps that approach him; only one man in the kingdom carries himself with such solemnity—the lord chancellor, the king’s most trusted advisor.

“your highness,” the man in question bends his upper body in a formal bow, his voice a low murmur, careful not to disturb the sanctity of the space more than necessary. sinyoung remains kneeling, though his prayer falters as he senses the gravity in the chancellor’s tone.

“lord chancellor,” sinyoung responds quietly, finally turning his head slightly, acknowledging the older man’s presence. “what news do you bring?”

the lord chancellor bows his head slightly before speaking. “your brother’s whereabouts have been discovered.”

the words hang in the air, heavy with implications. sinyoung’s heart skips a beat, the dread he has been battling all night suddenly manifesting into something tangible. “where is he?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“he has anchored his ship off the coast of kalymnos island,” the chancellor reports, his voice grave. “he and his crew have taken refuge in an old fortress there.”

sinyoung stands slowly, his legs stiff from hours of kneeling, the cold stone beneath his knees having long since numbed the sensation in his limbs. he turns to face the older man, his mind racing with the news. it’s hard to pinpoint which emotion weighs heavier: relief at having a tangible location to focus on, anger at his brother’s actions, or dread at what this means for the immediate future.

the lord chancellor, ever composed and serene, watches him carefully. the weight of his words lingers in the air, the silence between them filled with the unspoken tension of what is to come. “his majesty requests your presence immediately,” he continues, his voice grave but respectful. “the military council has convened. the king wishes you to join the discussions on how to proceed with the retrieval of her highness.”

sinyoung almost scoffs at the words. “i see.”

the other steps forward, his hands clasped in front of him, his expression unreadable. “your highness, i understand that this situation weighs heavily on your heart. it is not easy to reconcile personal feelings with matters of state, especially when family is involved. however, his majesty believes that your presence in the council will ensure the success of this operation. you are not merely his son—you are his confidant in this matter, and your insight is invaluable.”

“invaluable?” sinyoung mutters, his gaze dropping to the floor. he can feel the lord chancellor’s eyes on him, but the weight of his father’s expectations presses down like an iron hand on his shoulders.

the chancellor remains silent for a moment, allowing the prince’s quiet frustration to settle before responding. “your father’s determination to bring your fiancée back unharmed is undeniable but his anger toward hwan clouds his judgment. you, your highness, can offer a perspective that tempers his rage, that prevents this rescue from becoming a bloodbath.”

sinyoung inhales sharply, feeling the sting of the chancellor’s words. they are true, and they sting precisely because he has always known that his father’s motivations are driven by more than just the desire to save his fiancée. the king wants revenge, not only against hwan for kidnapping the princess but for years of perceived betrayal since the exiled crown prince turned his back on the kingdom.

“i am not sure i can temper anything,” sinyoung says, his voice tight. “my father wants vengeance. he would burn the world down to see my brother punished for what he thinks he has done.”

“and that is why your presence is so crucial,” the lord chancellor insists, his tone measured but firm. “his majesty trusts you. he listens to you, even if he does not always show it. your counsel could prevent a war, or at the very least, ensure that the princess is returned without unnecessary bloodshed.”

sinyoung exhales slowly, the weight of responsibility settling over him like a mantle he can’t shrug off. the idea of confronting hwan fills him with a mixture of dread and sorrow. facing his brother in battle—whether with swords or words—is not something he precisely wishes for but he knows there is no choice. his duty as a prince, as his father’s son, demands that he act. 

and more than that, the thought of the princess suffering forces him to swallow his uncertainty. he doesn’t know her, but her fate is bound to his, and he can’t allow her to remain a pawn in this game between his father and hwan.

“very well,” sinyoung says at last, his voice steadying as he turns to the lord chancellor with resolve in his eyes. “i will attend the council.”

the lord chancellor bows slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment, though his expression remains impassive. “his majesty will be pleased.”

sinyoung’s jaw tightens at the notion. “pleased,” he repeats, the word laced with irony. his father would indeed be pleased, not because sinyoung’s presence brings him any comfort, but because it solidifies the king’s control over the unfolding events. he is well aware that the king sees this operation as more than just a rescue mission—it is a chance to reassert dominance over his exiled son, to prove that no one, not even a former crown prince, can defy the throne without consequence.

the lord chancellor steps back, giving sinyoung space to prepare himself for the conversation that awaits. “the council awaits you, your highness,” he says, his tone gentler now, as though recognizing the enormity of what sinyoung must face.

with a deep breath, the prince straightens his shoulders and turns toward the cathedral doors. the cold air of the night slips through the crack as they open, and the sound of the city beyond the church walls filters into the sacred silence. 

his mind sharpens with purpose. 

he has prayed for guidance, and though no divine answer has come, the reality of his situation has provided him with the clarity he needs.

as he steps through the church doors, the night air cools the fire in his blood. he casts one last glance back at the altar, where the candles flicker in their soft light. his prayers may not have given him all the answers, but they have fortified his resolve.

hyuck stands on the rooftop with ahyeon, the cool breeze brushing through her hair as she leans into him, her head resting against his chest. he can feel the tension still lingering in her, like static in the air after a storm. she’s trying to calm down, but the confrontation with minjae is still fresh, and he’s guessing her emotions are still too raw to just let it go. he holds her tighter, hoping his presence can help steady her, his heartbeat a calming rhythm against the chaos she’s trying to push down.

“you’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asks softly, his usual teasing tone replaced with concern. he knows her well enough to see when she’s stuck in her own head, replaying every second of what happened, trying to make sense of it.

ahyeon sighs, pulling back slightly to look up at him. there’s frustration and guilt written all over her face, and it stings to see her like this. ‘i shouldn’t have gone off like that. i mean… what did i even accomplish?’ her voice wavers, and hyuck knows she’s second-guessing herself, questioning if stepping in was the right thing to do.

he tilts her chin up gently, his thumb brushing across her cheek. “you were trying to protect her. maybe it didn’t come out perfectly, but your heart was in the right place. seoyoung will understand.”

‘will she, though?’ ahyeon mutters, frowning. ‘i probably made things worse. minjae’s too proud to admit he’s wrong, and now i’ve just gone and shoved myself into their mess.’

hyuck tightens his grip around her. “look, minjae’s got his head so far up his own ass, he probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing to seoyoung half the time. you calling him out might just be the wake-up call he needs.”

ahyeon scoffs, but there’s a trace of a smile hiding in her eyes. ‘or he’ll just double down and act like a bigger idiot. you know how he is.’

hyuck chuckles softly. yeah, minjae's predictable like that, but it doesn’t make ahyeon’s effort any less important. “maybe. but someone had to say something. and it couldn’t have come from me, so…”

they stand in silence for a while, the hum of the city far below them filling the quiet. he can tell she’s still processing, still unsure if what she did was worth it. he gets it—ahyeon’s the kind of person who’s always thinking two steps ahead. but this time, her emotions got the better of her. he’s not sure she’s used to that.

“you’re not responsible for minjae or seoyoung’s relationship,” hyuck says after a moment, carefully choosing his words. “you did what you thought was right. the rest is up to them.”

she nods, but the doubt is still there. ‘i just don’t want seoyoung to think i’m meddling. i mean, i told my members to stay out of my stuff with you, and here i am, doing the exact opposite.’

he grins, pressing a light kiss to her temple. the gesture has ahyeon huffing out a small laugh, seemingly finally relaxing. ‘she’s going to know something’s up. i can’t just walk into the dorm like nothing happened.’

“we’ll figure it out,” he says confidently. “talk to her before anyone else does. tell her why you did what you did. she’ll understand.”

ahyeon sighs again, her shoulders loosening a bit. ‘you’re right. i just… i didn’t expect to get so caught up in it. i thought i could handle it, but the second minjae started acting like it wasn’t a big deal, i just… lost it.’

hyuck chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “you know, your temper is cute when it’s not directed at me.”

she punches him lightly in the arm, but her smile is genuine now. ‘yeah, yeah, whatever. just don’t make me throw a pillow at you next time.’

they stand there for a bit longer, the air around them calm, the rooftop their quiet retreat. he knows she’s still replaying everything in her head, but at least now, she’s not so wound up about it. 

he’s about to suggest they go back inside when ahyeon’s phone buzzes in her pocket. she pulls it out and stares at the screen for a moment before showing it to him.

[ ✉: satan ] she hasn't unblocked me yet. tell her to call me. please or whatever. i don't care if you do or don't.

hyuck whistles, glancing at ahyeon with a grin. “looks like you made some impact after all.”

ahyeon narrows her eyes at the message. ‘he’s such an ass.’

“yeah,” hyuck agrees, laughing, “but you made an impact. that’s something.”

he wraps an arm around her shoulders before he shifts slightly to glance down at her with a playful smirk. “now the question is, when are you going to tell me about the tour?”

ahyeon groans, rolling her eyes, but he can see a small smile creeping up at the corners of her mouth. ‘you just want me to relive all the exhaustion, don’t you?’

“maybe. but i’m more interested in the fun stuff,” hyuck teases, tugging her a little closer. 

ahyeon sighs dramatically but finally relents. ‘okay, okay. yeah, the tour was... insane. honestly, it still doesn’t feel real sometimes. like, standing in front of all those people, hearing them sing our songs back to us—it was overwhelming but in the best way.’

hyuck grins. “bet. i’ve seen clips online, and it looked amazing.”

she smiles, her eyes lighting up as she recalls some of the best moments. ‘there were definitely highs. like, performing in new cities, getting to see the fans from different countries… you know.’

“and the lows?” he asks, knowing that with the highs, there’s always the other side.

ahyeon shrugs, a more serious expression settling on her face. ‘the schedule was brutal. i thought i was prepared, but there were nights when i was so tired i didn’t even remember how i got to the hotel. and there was some tension between the members, especially when the stress started piling up.’

“that must’ve been tough.”

‘it was on some nights,’ she admits. ‘and there were a few blowouts. when you’re with the same people day in and day out, you start to get on each other’s nerves. sometimes i don’t know how you guys do it.’

he rubs her back comfortingly, sensing that she’s still carrying some of the weight from the tour. “but you made it through. that’s what counts.”

‘we did,’ ahyeon says, her voice softer now. ‘and honestly, looking back, i wouldn’t trade it for anything; even the tough parts.’

they stand there for a while longer while she revisits some of the funnier moments from the tour as the sky above them continues to darken. hyuck feels the quiet peace settle over them, the drama of the day fading into the background as they simply enjoy each other’s company.

eventually, ahyeon speaks again, her voice quieter this time. ‘i missed you.’

the cool breeze has picked up again, tousling her hair, but she doesn’t seem to notice, her eyes focused on the skyline, lost in thought. hyuck watches her, feeling a pang of something bittersweet settle in his chest. he’s missed her too.

“i missed you too,” he replies, his voice low and sincere, no trace of his usual teasing. he can feel her relax a little more into his embrace, her body leaning just that much closer, as if she needs the physical reassurance that he’s still there, that they’re still here together, even after all the chaos.

waves crash against the side of the ship with a force that reverberates through the wooden hull. the salty spray mists the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and blood as the crew works to regain order in the wake of their skirmish. above them, the sails billow and snap in the wind, casting long, jagged shadows over the deck where men tend to their wounds and secure the ship’s rigging.

at the center of this chaos stands hwan.

his dark eyes, usually as calm as the surface of a serene lake, are now as turbulent as the storm-tossed sea around them. his jaw is clenched tightly, a sure sign that his patience has reached its limit. his tall frame, a towering figure against the setting sun, casts a long shadow over the deck. the men around him, acutely aware of his rare but formidable anger, move with a nervous energy, their eyes furtively glancing at him and then away.

the captain is a man slow to anger, a trait that has earned him respect among his crew and while it’s usually his quartermaster who sees to the crew being punished in the event of a crime or wrongdoing of some other kind, a few rare instances will have hwan seeing to it himself.

“seung!” his voice cuts through the din like a lash of ice, sharp and unforgiving.

the boy, barely more than a lad, freezes at the sound of his name. his face goes pale as he clutches a rope, the blood seeping through the hastily bandaged wound on his forearm—a wound that resulted from his failure. the image of another crew member who now lies wounded, flickers in hwan’s mind.

that injury, severe and painful, could have been avoided.

hwan’s anger almost boils over at the thought of a valuable crew member put at risk because of something as unforgivable as simple carelessness.

“get over here,” he commands, his voice carrying a menace that makes even the seasoned sailors flinch. their glances at seung are filled with a mix of pity and resignation. they know what’s coming and dread the captain’s anger.

hwan watches as seung stumbles forward, his movements tentative, his head bowed in submission. the boy’s anxiety is palpable, and hwan’s frustration grows.

with deliberate steps, hwan closes the distance between them. each thud of his boots on the wooden planks seems to echo like a judgment, amplifying the weight of his anger. when he speaks, his voice is cold and sharp, cutting through seung’s flimsy excuses. “do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

the response is a barely audible whisper. “captain, i—i didn’t mean to—”

“didn’t mean to?” hwan interrupts, his voice eerily calm. “didn’t mean to what? to nearly get another killed because you couldn’t perform your duties? because you were too reckless to follow a straightforward order?”

“i’m sorry, captain,” the boy stammers, flinching. “i tried to—”

“tried?” hwan interrupts, his tone devoid of sympathy. “tried isn’t good enough on my ship. tried doesn’t keep men alive. tried doesn’t win battles. tried gets men killed.”

hwan’s words are not just harsh; they are like stones being cast at a drowning man. in a world as merciless as theirs, mistakes are not just costly—they are fatal. failure is not an option, and on hwan’s ship, it is an unforgivable sin.

“do you think this is a game?” his voice drops to a dangerous whisper, every word laced with a threat that hangs heavy in the air. “do you think that just because we survived this fight, you’re off the hook? this is your one chance, seung. your one warning. the next time you slip up, the next time one of your mistakes costs one of my men his blood, you’ll be thrown overboard. the sea will be your judge and jury. do you understand?”

the boy’s eyes widen in terror, and hwan can see the realization of his precarious position settling in. the threat is not an empty threat; it is a promise. hwan has no qualms about carrying out his threats. the harsh reality of their life at sea demands that every crew member perform their duties flawlessly or face dire consequences.

“i understand, captain,” seung whispers, his voice trembling. “it won’t happen again.”

“good,” hwan says, his voice regaining its usual cold edge. “because on my ship, there are no second chances. you either do your duty or you don’t belong here.”

hwan watches as seung swallows hard, the weight of the threat pressing down on him. the boy stands there, trembling, as the severity of the situation becomes clear. for a moment, hwan feels a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or a recognition of the harshness of his methods. but the need for discipline overrides any sense of sympathy.

he turns his attention back to the rest of the crew, who have resumed their tasks with a newfound urgency, their movements sharp and efficient. he orders, “bring kihyun to see the wounded,” directing one of the nearby crewmen. “and get this deck cleaned up. i want everything secured before nightfall.”

the crew springs into action, their efficiency underscoring the gravity of the situation. hwan surveys the deck, his gaze sweeping over the men who are working diligently to repair and clean. each movement, each clink of metal and tightening of ropes, is a reminder of the fragile balance they maintain on the edge of disaster.

as hwan dismisses seung and the younger moves to help with the rigging, jongho steps forward. known for his own form of strict discipline and as the man who is usually tasked with doling out punishments—a task he handles with a methodical efficiency that leaves no room for leniency—his face is a mask of contemplation; it’s a rare glimpse into the other’s trains of thought.

and still, hwan can feel his gaze burn into the back of his head.

‘you and i know this wasn’t just another slip-up,’ jongho says, his voice low but firm.

hwan’s gaze remains fixed on the horizon, his anger simmering but controlled. “you’re right,” he replies, his voice taut with restrained emotion. “one failure jeopardized a crew member’s life. if we don’t make an example of this, if we don’t ensure every man understands the seriousness of their duty, then our survival is at risk.”

the quartermaster nods, understanding the weight of hwan’s words.

they both know there’s more to it. it doesn’t need to be said.

‘daniel will reinforce the lesson with the crew, make sure they understand the severity of what happened today.’

hwan offers a curt nod, acknowledging the third-in-command’s role. “have him do that. and have him make sure that every man knows that we are all held to the highest standards. we can’t afford mistakes, especially ones that put us all in danger.”

as the quartermaster departs to fulfill his duties, hwan’s gaze shifts back to the horizon, where the sun is sinking low, casting long shadows across the deck. the sea, calm for the moment, is a deceptive calm—a prelude to the next storm. 

hwan is well aware of this. 

the moon hangs low in the sky, casting its pale light over the blackened waters of the open sea. a single ship cuts through the waves with a menacing grace, its tattered black sails billowing in the night breeze. 

hwan stands at the bow of his ship, staring out at the vast expanse of the sea. the wind tugs at his coat, whipping his dark hair around his face, but he barely notices. his mind is a storm of thoughts, each one crashing into the next as he considers the consequences of the decision he made a fortnight ago.

his half-brother’s fiancée is locked below deck in one of the most secure cabins on the ship–prince sinyoung, the man who will one day sit on the throne that should have been hwan’s. the capture is a calculated move, one meant to strike at his brother and father where it hurts most, but now that it’s done, hwan can’t shake the sense that he has crossed a line he can never return from.

her capture had been a daring move, one that shocked the kingdoms and sent ripples of fear and anger through the courts. but for hwan, it was a move driven by more than just the promise of ransom; an act born of the deep wounds left by his past.

still. it almost feels like a lifetime ago: that, for which he now seeks revenge.

a presence at his side pulls him out of his thoughts. 

jonho, his quartermaster and the one person he trusts above all others, stands beside him, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon as if he can see the future in the waves.

‘you’ve been brooding for hours,’ he says, his voice cutting through the silence. ‘what’s on your mind?’

hwan doesn’t answer immediately. he knows jongho well enough to understand that he won’t let the question drop until he gives him a satisfactory answer; the other’s always had an uncanny ability to sense when something’s amiss. hwan supposes that’s what makes him so suitable for the role of quartermaster.

hwan’s voice is measured and thoughtful when he speaks. “we need to decide what to do with her.”

there’s more to it that he isn’t saying. the crew is growing restless, and word will spread soon enough. the other kingdoms are already on high alert, and keeping her here too long could bring more trouble than we’re prepared to handle.

all of which is true.

and yet.

hwan sighs, his gaze never leaving the horizon. “this is… turning out to be more complicated than i anticipated.” his voice trails off, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

he can feel jongho studying him closely. ‘complicated? she’s the fiancée of your brother, the one who’ll sit on the throne that was meant to be yours. i’d say that’s more than complicated.’

hwan finally turns to face his quartermaster, his eyes darkening with old memories. 

‘revenge is a powerful motivator,’ jongho seems to sense the depth of his anger when he gives him a brief once over, choosing his words carefully. ‘but it’s also a double-edged sword. if we keep her, your father will come after us with everything he has. and if we harm her… there will be no place on land or sea where we can hide.’

hwan sighs, running a hand through his hair. “there’ll be no need to harm her.”

jongho crosses his arms over his chest, studying him with the same intensity he might use to assess an enemy ship. ‘so what’s the plan now? you’ve already got the girl. are you planning to ransom her, or is there something else going on?’

hwan turns to face him, his dark eyes troubled. “i was planning to ransom her, yes. but now i’m wondering if that’s enough. ransom will get us gold, maybe even some leverage over my family, but it won’t change anything. it won’t erase what my father did to me, or what i’ve lost.”

‘revenge won’t give you back what you lost, either,’ jongho says, his tone blunt but not unkind. ‘you know that, hwan. you’ve always known that.’

he clenches his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure. “i don’t want revenge. i just want him to understand. to feel, even for a moment, what it’s like to have everything taken from him.”

‘and you think kidnapping your brother’s fiancée will do that?’ he asks, his voice edged with doubt.

hwan’s gaze drops to the deck, his thoughts a tangled mess of anger, regret, and confusion. 

‘the crew is restless, captain,’ jongho suddenly says, steering the conversation in another direction; his voice is raspy from years of shouting orders and breathing in salty sea air. ‘there’s another prisoner we oughtn’t forget about—what's to be done with her?’

“we can’t indulge the crew’s every whim. discipline must be kept, and decisions like this… they require careful thought,” hwan says slowly, his voice low and measured. 

jongho nods, understanding the weight of the decision. in pirate society, the captain might be the leader, but the quartermaster is the voice of the crew. any decision about the prisoners has to balance the captain's authority with the crew’s desire for violence or mercy. it’s a tightrope they have walked many times before.

‘we could ransom her,’ he suggests after a while, and to hwan, it looks like jongho’s already calculating the potential profits. ‘the maid’s got the look of someone important. highborn, i'd wager. her family would pay a pretty penny to see her returned safe.’

hwan rubs his chin thoughtfully. ransom is the most pragmatic option, especially for those who have wealth to their name. it’s a way to fill the ship's coffers without spilling unnecessary blood, and it could even buy the crew some time in a port, where they can spend their earnings and indulge in the pleasures that only land can offer while he and the ship's second-in-command determine their next steps.

“worth considering,” he agrees after a pause, voice lowering as if he’s speaking more to himself than his quartermaster. “but it won’t satisfy the whole crew. some of them… they’re out for trouble. we can’t ignore that.”

‘not all,’ jongho corrects, his eyes narrowing as he thinks. ‘we could always give her to the sea. it’ll please the crew, though there’s no gain to it.’

hwan considers this. it’s a harsh choice, but it isn’t without its logic. pirates live by a code, but that code is flexible when survival and profit are at stake. and the sea always takes care of the rest—no evidence, no need to share out any more gold.

after all, the sea is cruel, and she favors the ruthless.

jongho looks at hwan as if he’s trying to read his thoughts. ‘we could always let the crew decide,’ he suggests carefully. ‘put it to a vote. they respect you, captain, but a vote would keep the peace. if they decide to spill blood, it’s on their heads, not yours.’

hwan’s jaw tightens while he considers his words. “no, that won’t do. a captain who hides behind the vote of his crew when it comes to decisions like this loses respect. they might agree with me today, but what about the next time, and the time after that?”

a silence falls between them as the ship creaks and groans under the weight of its journey. the sounds of the sea fill the air, and the wind tugs at their coats and fills the sails.

‘we have a valuable prize,’ jongho says and hwan instinctively knows he's talking about the princess once more. the other's voice is low, almost a whisper, as if the night itself might eavesdrop on their conversation. ‘but she’s also a dangerous one. what do we do with her?’

hwan turns to the other once more, scratching his chin absent-mindedly. “royals come with problems. my father will send his entire navy if he has to, and we’re not equipped to fight an armada.”

‘yes. but the ransom we could demand would set us up for life. the king would pay a fortune to get his future daughter-in-law back. enough to buy a fleet of ships, enough to live like kings ourselves.’

the thought of such wealth is tempting, but hwan knows better than to let greed cloud his judgment. the seas are dangerous enough without a kingdom’s navy hunting them down, and the crew, while loyal, has its limits. they are pirates, not soldiers.

“and what happens when we deliver her and the king decides not to pay?” he asks, his voice cold. “he could send his fleet after us anyway, kill us all, and take her back without losing a single coin. or worse, he could send assassins, pick us off one by one while we sleep.”

‘then we don’t give her back so easily,’ jongho suggests, as if that should be glaringly obvious. ‘we negotiate from a position of strength. demand the payment in advance, in a neutral location. we could keep her hidden until we have the gold in hand.’

hwan considers this. negotiating with royalty is always a dangerous game, and even with the princess as their hostage, there are no guarantees. the king could agree to their terms, only to betray them at the last moment. pirates live by their wits and their swords, but kings have armies and treasuries at their disposal.

“and if the king refuses to pay?” he asks, testing the idea. “what then? do we kill her and send her back in pieces?”

jongho sighs, though whether because he’s frustrated by the complexity of their situation or annoyed at hwan for not taking him seriously, he can’t quite tell. ‘we could keep her,’ he suggests. ‘use her as leverage, not just for gold, but for power. we could force the king to make concessions, demand safe passage, even demand territories. if we play our cards right, we could have more than just gold—we could have a stronghold, a base of operations that even the king would fear to attack.’

hwan shakes his head. “keeping her alive long enough to make those demands would be more trouble than it's worth. the crew would grow restless, and we'd be sitting ducks, waiting for the king's fleet to catch up with us.”

the other purses his lips, considering the captain's words. they both know the princess is a liability, a dangerous one at that. but killing her outright would be a waste of a valuable asset.

‘what if we turn her?’ the quartermaster suggests, a glint of mischief in his eyes. ‘not by force, but by persuasion. she's been raised in a palace, sheltered her whole life. she doesn’t know what it’s like to live outside those walls. if we could make her see that the world isn’t as black and white as she’s been told, she might become an ally instead of a prisoner.’

hwan raises an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “and how do you propose we do that? she's a princess, jongho, not some lost lamb we can lead astray. her loyalty is to her people, her kingdom. she wouldn’t turn against them so easily.”

the other gives a long smile, looking like his mind is already working on the details. ‘you did it, didn’t you?’

when jongho leaves to carry out his duties a brief while later, hwan remains on the deck, staring out at the endless sea. the moonlight shimmers on the waves, a reminder of the vastness of the world they inhabit, a world ruled by those who dare to seize power. with a final glance at the horizon, he turns and descends to his cabin.

the game is afoot, and he intends to win. the princess might be a pawn in this game, but pawns, when played correctly, can become queens. 

“you’re so fucking annoying.”

soobin is pretty sure that minsoo has every intention of being just that. if there’s one thing he knows about his best friend, then it’s that he does nothing better than be a nuisance with the full knowledge that it’ll drive all the people around him up the wall. it’s how he likes to do things, probably also how he likes it being done to him—insert something a therapist would say about sadism. or masochism? he can’t tell these things apart.

‘shut up, it was your idea.’

too bad for everyone else that he’s the same.

soobin’s grin widens as he leans back against the wall, arms crossed. “don’t say it like that,” he says, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “it makes it sound like i’m some kind of villain.”

minsoo rolls his eyes dramatically, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘please, soobin. you know perfectly well that’s a big lie. you’re not smart enough to be a villain.’

soobin chuckles, shaking his head. “oh, and you think you're any smarter? besides, i would say i'm more of an enthusiastic participant.” his eyes twinkle with mischief, and he can practically see the wheels turning in minsoo’s head.

the two of them have been friends for years, and over that time, they’ve developed a knack for pushing each other’s buttons. they know how to get under each other’s skin and how to make the other laugh, sometimes simultaneously. it’s a dynamic that works for them, even if it drives everyone else insane.

minsoo gives a dramatic sigh, dropping onto the couch beside soobin. ‘fine, fine. you win this round. but let’s not forget who really orchestrated the chaos.’

“orchestrated? that’s a bit much,” soobin says, feigning an air of contemplation. “let’s just say i provided the spark.”

minsoo shoots him a look. ‘you mean the flame. and now look where we are: stuck in a mess of our own making.’

“true,” soobin admits, “but isn’t that half the fun? if we always played it safe, we’d never have these ridiculous stories to tell.”

‘ridiculous is one word for it,’ minsoo says with a smirk. ‘i prefer unbelievably insane.’

the two of them exchange knowing glances, and soobin’s grin only grows wider. “you know, i’m starting to think that we’re the real problem here. we’re like a bad influence on each other.”

minsoo snorts. ‘as if. we’re the best kind of influence. just ask anyone who’s ever tried to keep up with us.’

“so true,” soobin says, leaning forward with a conspiratorial whisper. “and speaking of which, i’ve got an idea for how we can make this situation even more interesting.”

minsoo raises an eyebrow, eyes sparkling. ‘interesting? you mean more chaotic.’

“definitely chaotic,” soobin says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “but think of the fun we’ll have.”

minsoo groans, though he can’t suppress a grin. ‘what’s the plan?’

soobin’s grin becomes almost predatory. “we’re going to turn this place into a mini amusement park. you know, with makeshift games and ridiculous challenges. just imagine the looks on everyone’s faces when they walk in.”

minsoo’s eyes widen in mock horror. ‘and here i thought we were done with the pranks for the day.’

“never!” soobin declares with a laugh. “there’s always room for one more. besides, this is going to be legendary.”

the idea begins to take shape in their minds as they start outlining their plans. they’ll convert the entrance hall into a game zone, complete with obstacles and ludicrous prizes. it’s absurd, it’s over-the-top, and it’s exactly what they both need.

as they work, the two friends fall into a rhythm, their laughter mingling with the sounds of their impromptu construction. they’re a well-oiled machine when it comes to this kind of thing, their energy feeding off each other’s enthusiasm.

minsoo is busy taping up colorful streamers while soobin arranges plastic cups and ping-pong balls for one of the games. every now and then, they pause to exchange gleeful comments about how ridiculous it all is.

‘this is going to be epic,’ minsoo says, tying off the last streamer with a flourish. ‘i can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions.’

soobin grins. “me neither. and who knows, maybe we’ll even get some people to join in the fun.”

‘or we’ll just end up driving them completely mad,’ minsoo says with a chuckle. 

the thought of their friends’ bewildered faces as they encounter the makeshift amusement park fills them with a sense of gleeful anticipation. they can already picture the chaos and laughter that will ensue, and it only fuels their excitement.

when everything is finally ready, soobin and minsoo stand back to admire their work. the room looks like something out of a carnival, with bright colors and absurdly silly games scattered everywhere. it’s a testament to their combined creativity and love for mischief.

they look at each other, both of them barely containing their laughter. “we did good,” soobin says, giving minsoo a high-five.

‘yeah, we really did,’ minsoo agrees, his eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘now let’s just hope everyone else appreciates the effort.’

“here’s to being a little bit annoying,” soobin says with a grin.

‘and to having the best kind of fun,’ minsoo adds, clinking their soda cans together in a toast.

the first thing hyuck feels is the lack of warmth by his side, promptly followed by the realization that someone seems to shift beside him as though they’re trying to get away. on instinct and with his eyes still closed, his hand shoots out to wrap around what he assumes to be ahyeon’s middle so he can tug her back to him.

“don’t move,” he half-orders, half-whines with sleep heavily lacing his throat. the shifting stops for a while after that and just when he thinks he can peacefully drift back to sleep, a voice gleefully interrupts his peace. ‘man, he really won’t let you go, will he?’

as if on cue, a second voice pipes up. ‘leave him be, he’s tired.’

this voice belongs to ahyeon and her words are followed by her fingers gently pushing away some loose strands out of his face. hyuck doesn’t need his eyes open to imagine the soft expression she must wear right now though her tone sharpens a lot when she addresses the other person again causing him to bury his face in his pillow to avoid her seeing his delighted grin. ‘don’t you have better things to do?’

‘nothing beats seeing you pamper hyuck who’s only pretending to be asleep. wake up, genius, i can see you grinning.’

hyuck’s grin morphs into a frown before he groans into his pillow in annoyance. any response on his end is swiftly foregone in favor of a meaningful gesture with the free hand that isn’t wrapped around ahyeon causing minjae to laugh cheerfully. why the fuck is he in such a good mood and why does it have to be here, of all places?

“what time is it?” he grumbles after a moment in which he tries to gain a desire to do anything with himself other than continue sleeping. a moment that minjae and ahyeon use to continue sniping at each other though hyuck successfully blocks that out, knowing there’s no point in telling either to quit it. 

ahyeon doesn’t like minjae and minjae doesn’t like—honestly, hyuck doesn’t even know. maybe he just gets off on being voyeuristic, or a pain in the ass, or both.

when either side doesn’t honor his question with a reply, hyuck lets out a huff knowing that sleep is virtually impossible now. sitting up in the small bunk bed in the tour bus, he almost bumps his head against the metal surface above; unbeknownst to him, the hair on the back of his head is sticking in every direction and his desire to run his hand through it does nothing to tamper the mess.

‘you better wear a cap,’ minjae notes, not without some hint of entertainment swinging in his undertone. ‘jaehyun and june are outside and waiting for you to get your ass up.’

“that’s not how i would’ve put it but—oh, hi ahyeon.” jaehyun’s head suddenly pops up from behind minjae, brows furrowed just the slightest bit when he spots ahyeon who only gives a timid wave of her hand. “did you get lost on your way to the dorms, or…?”

“we were out late last night and it would have taken longer to get her back to the dorms,” hyuck supplies an answer to spare ahyeon the embarrassment of having to explain her presence. the tip of her ears burn a little red but the long hair seems to cover enough of that for neither of his teammates to notice that little detail.

“wait, so you brought her here?” jaehyun queries, the crease in his forehead deepening even more. he and minjae exchange a brief glance, one that seems to ask when did this happen without us noticing before jaehyun opts to shrug his shoulders as if there are more pressing matters he needs to attend to. “hyuck, we need to practice for the encore concert and we’re gonna be late if you don’t get up now. ahyeon, i’ll talk to our manager, maybe he can drop you off at your dorms.”

‘you’re starting to sound like him,’ minjae remarks with a grin in jaehyun’s direction who only rolls his eyes before retreating from the little, crowded corner in the tour bus to give the couple (and minjae, who simply won’t leave) some space.

‘so, you two got up to some fun things yesterday night?’

“wouldn’t you like to know,” hyuck shoots back. he’s definitely not awake enough right now for a pissmatch with his best friend but he also knows minjae won’t leave him alone for the rest of the day, especially after being the one who literally found ahyeon in his bed. the latter seems reasonably calm and collected, the embarrassment only noticeable in the glare she sends minjae’s way and the fact it’s especially cutting.

hyuck would like to say he feels apologetic but they both sort of figured they’d have to face this when he suggested she should come back to the tour bus and bunk with him for one night. they were only saved from this harassment last night because everyone but their manager was already asleep and he was too tired and mindful of the rest of the group to give them a lecture then and there. hyuck’s sure that’s bound to follow later but he doesn’t really care; thinking back on how much fun it was to just be out together without having to worry about anything or anyone, he’d probably do it again in a heartbeat. even with all the consequences involved.

‘never took you for the freaky type, ahy—’

‘are you absolutely sure you need him to complete the group?’ ahyeon asks in hyuck’s direction with a twist to her lips. in response, he side eyes minjae as if contemplating a genuine answer before shaking his head. “too bad but he’s the fan favorite.”

‘sure am,’ he declares proudly, causing ahyeon to remark something about how minjae should learn to humble himself. hyuck can practically feel the next sniping session about to commence which is why he swings his legs out of bed so he can get rid of his best friend; at least for now. 

‘need some time alone, do you?’ the shit eating grin on his best friend’s face is enough for hyuck to understand what he’s hinting at which has him smirking in return. “damn straight i do. and you don’t get to watch so—”

the question comes to him on a lazy sunday afternoon, legs dangling from the armrest of the couch that soonyoung has occupied for more or less a good chunk of the day at this point while he watches his girlfriend on the other end of the couch scroll through something on her phone.

“would you want to get married?”

she doesn’t react on his first try and he has to grin because he knows that she’s not listening. or at least trying to make it seem like she isn’t.

he nudges her leg with his foot, offering her his brightest grin when she rolls her eyes and makes a shooing gesture with her hand all while still being glued to her phone; it’s half a miracle when he gets a sentence out of her. ‘i know your tricks. nothing can shock me anymore.’

“tricks? you don’t think it has anything to do with my charming personality?” he teases, feigned incredulity lacing his tone. “anyway, i didn’t think you’d mind since that’s how we—”

that actually gets her to drop the phone and focus her attention on soonyoung with a stern look in her eyes. ‘if you value your life, you’re not finishing that sentence.’

he folds his arms from his resting position, but a smirk hangs on his lips. “so that’s how i have to resort to getting your attention?”

‘you have it all the time,’ areum relents before mirroring his expression while playfully narrowing her eyes at him. ‘and you damn well know it.’

“maybe i do, maybe i don’t,” he replies innocently while he sits upright, his hand reaching out. he twins his fingers together with areum’s who holds her hand out with a smile. he cherishes these moments; the quiet ones, where neither of them have to be places and can indulge in the comfort of each other’s presence. 

which is incredibly cheesy and nobody should ever make him say this out loud but judging from areum’s genuine grin, he’s fairly sure she feels the same. there’s a touch of certainty to them now, different to how it was beginning—not so much coated in excited anxiety and sweet anticipation. it’s still there, of course, but to a lesser extent, having been replaced by something quieter in nature but to him, it’s just as meaningful.

‘i can see the gears in your head turning. you’re not proposing to me in sweats.’

“i proposed to you in winter gear before.”

‘not the point.’

“so if i changed, came back and asked again, would you answer me then?”

it’s become a game for them. a way of teasing each other, seeing who runs out of ideas or a comeback first: soonyoung doesn’t doubt that if he were to ask in earnest, areum would say yes. or at least seriously consider the possibility—he knows about her reservations about marriage as an institution but he’d like to think they’d have a discussion. talk about the pros and cons, maybe, figure out a way to compromise and make it work in a way that suits both their needs.

it’s maybe not the most romantic way of going about it but it’s what works for them: the talking, the needling, the compromising.

and besides, he doesn’t really think they need to get married anyway. more than anything, he enjoys the banter with areum, seeing her smile or roll her eyes at his nonsensical suggestions; just having her be the way she is, unreservedly so.

‘if you changed and asked again, i’d consider it,’ she says and he intrinsically knows she doesn’t mean a single word. she just wants to see how far he’ll go to get a yes out of her.

too bad that he can read her just as good. 

soonyoung grins. “i’m too lazy to get up right now. maybe another time.”

‘maybe i didn’t want to marry you anyway,’ she huffs out, making a face at him.

he tugs her closer at that, feeling endlessly satisfied when she nearly collides into him on the couch. “or maybe you just don’t get tired of hearing me ask?”

“you don’t have to leave yet.”

she meets his gaze and finds it even more stormy than usual, dark shadows clouding his expression. is it because her words are unexpected; her desire to have him nearby providing a flicker of hope for a more peaceful future—or because he doesn’t fully trust her not to have a joker up her sleeve, something to stab him in the back with?

sometimes she can’t help but wonder what he sees when he looks at her.

his expression shutters carefully when he glances back to her as if to say damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

her jaw sets and she spins to exit the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

she’s a queen here already—sort of, if you forget that she has nothing to show for it other than her recent coronation that took place alongside fan’s. 

her father sends an envoy to convey his congratulations alongside a bunch of gifts, most of which she makes a point out of redistributing to the local townsfolk that come to see the new rulers before the festivities at the palace. 

they don’t know they are accepting trinkets freely given by the same man who’d once wreaked havoc on their homes. but does it matter where things come from as long as it can guarantee another day of survival for those who have little to spare?

she doesn’t stop to think about it until fan’s mother brings it up with her: gently, without chastising. as though she needa to make sure no ill will, will eventually harm her or her family's reputation.

we’re a proud people, suhwa. you’re one of us now, don’t forget that.

she doesn’t know what to do other than play the part: give out thanks, nod her head, look over to her husband and pretend to feel all she has to for the sake of it all.

but she can feel her heart lodging in her throat anyway, and if she’d wanted to say something before, that makes it effectively impossible.

loneliness is a familiar companion these days. 

it used to be once before as well—at fan’s hands, no less.

she’s learned to be good a long time ago at blinking away painfully vivid memories and ignoring the physical blows that reality likes to give her when she least expects it to happen.

but now, the unfamiliar surroundings only tend to add to her misery: the nooks and crannies she does remember only bring forth memories she’d rather forget.

and then there’s fan, and he’s perhaps the worst reminder she can’t shake off. too far out of her reach but too near to make sense of it all; he’s perhaps the only one who could understand a fraction of her emotional turmoil but if he’s made sure to avoid her, it’s because she insisted on keeping him at arm’s length.

for a time, that arrangement worked in her favor. it gave her peace, left her to lead her life the way she always said she would and ignore the fact she’s wed to this man.

but here, in his home, with his immediate family surrounding her and asking questions at every turn as well as including her in little everyday activities, she realizes she’s never before felt such an overwhelming sense of loss.

of control, maybe. or something else she lacks the right words for.

‘what is it?’ he asks, tilting his head at her as he seems to notice something’s off.

“nothing.” her reply is measured, contrary to the last time they talked—or fought, really. she observes him. “i just had a sudden thought.”

‘nothing bad, i hope?’

“about when you imprisoned me.” a haze begins to fog the memories that were painfully clear before. her gaze shifts to meet his, and she’s surprised to find him leaning away in obvious discomfort. “you brought me food every day.”

his face tightens, gaze falling to the meal in front of him. ‘i remember.’

“do you want some champagne?” ahyeon’s first words are smug and stand in stark contrast to kihyun giving the two boys a silent once-over while having his arms crossed. ‘at least you’ve managed to make yourselves look presentable.’

soobin chuckles. “you should have seen the effort minsoo put in. never before seen him so dedicated while getting dolled up.”

kihyun’s eyes narrow when his gaze settles on his younger brother but the only response is an unassuming smile. soobin takes the time to observe his surroundings; the scenery is different from last night’s but the atmosphere is the same. the moment nightfall takes hold, the fun usually begins. while this gathering is more business than pleasure, he and minsoo have never had trouble mixing the two and with the amount of interesting personalities close by, they might just enjoy this evening. so long as they don’t catch the eye of a parent; soobin’s sure at least one nosy family member is attending tonight, kihyun presently excluded.

‘you’re supposed to stick around for at least two hours so don’t even think about causing trouble until you’re outside a radius of at least ten miles.’

kihyun rubs the bridge of his nose, the fatigue apparent in his features despite the make-up concealing the dark shadows. ahyeon nudges him, a gesture of reassurance and to let kihyun know she’s got this one in his stead, before fixating the two younger boys with a stern look. “you heard the man. put on your best behaviour and off with you two.”

‘define best behaviour,’ minsoo says, a smile forming as ahyeon’s eyes narrow in his direction. “small talk only, no incessant flirting, no compliments unless they’re about haneul’s stuff and most of all, no alcohol until the two of you are outside kihyun’s ten miles radius.”

“great,” soobin claps his hands together enthusiastically, completely dismissing the suspicious glances that kihyun and ahyeon exchange with one another. “so where’s miyoung? has she arrived already?”

‘miyoung? what do you want with her?’

haneul enters the scene, dressed in a crisp suit that looks like it belongs more to a wedding reception than an exhibition. in contrast to soobin and minsoo’s clothes, his has been carefully pressed and carries an aroma of dried paint with it. if she didn’t know it any better, ahyeon would suspect he’s managed to smuggle in a brush but security wouldn’t have permitted that. or at least that’s what she hopes; she wouldn’t put it past haneul to try.

the look of confusion on his face is quickly replaced by a sort of subdued curiosity that only he manages to wear so effortlessly when his gaze falls on the troublemaker duo, a sign he’s registered their punctual arrival. he gives a nod, brief and dismissive, before his brows knot together pensively. ‘daniel hasn’t arrived yet either, has he?’

ahyeon shakes her head before shooting a warning glance at minsoo who looks like he’s ready to burst with glee. ‘daniel’s coming too?’

‘coming to kick your ass if you don’t shut up,’ kihyun retorts dryly which only earns him a mocking grin from his younger brother. ‘stop bothering my friends and go do your job.’

‘job?’ haneul echoes, bewilderment written plainly across his features. ahyeon raises a hand to hide her amused smile behind it, feeling a surge of fondness for the boy wash over her before she elbows kihyun gently in the hopes it’ll prompt him to ease their mutual friend’s burgeoning worries. kihyun sighs.

‘haneul, don’t waste your time with them, we have a reporter from vanity fair who scheduled a quick q&a session with you, let’s go.’ kihyun ushers the man of the hour to the reporter in question with ease, a last stern glare thrown at the younger boys over his shoulder as he passes them by before ahyeon is left alone with dumb and dumber. though she’s a few inches shorter than the two of them, she’s no less of a demanding character. she downs the champagne in one fluid motion before pursing her lips at the two boys.

ahyeon led him through the streets with newfound ease he hadn’t seen in her before, through back alleys familiar to both of them even in the dark. they were silent: her braids swung as she walked, masks pulled up to hide their faces, his cap covering his eyes to keep from strangers recognizing a pair of idols walking hand-in-hand.

hyuck focused on this for a moment, thinking about the dozens of times he’d walked beside her on their way out of the rooftop, the dance studio or backstage at some schedule he couldn’t bother to remember; grinning and chatting and exchanging conspiratorial glances whenever one of his bandmates were noisily prodding them for information. the way his heart always lightened whenever he’d catch her eyes.

the memory was like a weight against his chest now as they kept their heads down while heading to their destination.

it shouldn’t have bothered him — and truthfully it didn’t, at least to a certain extent. he was used to the prying glances thrown his way when he was in public, the endearing restraint some of his fans displayed in an effort to give him a semblance of normalcy. hyuck was appreciative of these things in the same way he valued their loyalty when he recognized the same people at a fansign or when concert tickets were outsold in a matter of minutes. there were no words for the emotion that spread inside his chest and the sense of accomplishment he felt at these things.

he knew his feelings about such things were shared by his friends for the most part: they all cherished where hard work and a stroke of luck had gotten them though arguably some of them did more poorly with the negative side effects their job brought with it. hyuck didn’t remember the last time june had gone through a live session without being disturbed by random phone calls from strangers or how deeply jaehyun was suffering from homesickness. bearing witness to it was disconcerting and its effects were felt most strongly by those who struggled under the weight of what was expected of them.

more often than not hyuck had overheard his fellow members complain about this to their manager. seojun’s face was unreadable whenever he took in another grievance, alleviated another worry but some things simply had no easy cure to distribute.

‘you’re awfully quiet.’ ahyeon sounded suspicious, in the same way she did whenever she spoke to one of her fellow groupmates over the phone. hyuck didn’t want to get into it here and now but he’d always suspected there was some sort of underlying tension between her and the other girls. knowing that ahyeon was sensitive to such things only reinforced his hunch but she wouldn’t appreciate him bringing it up and he didn’t want to embarrass her. squeezing her hand, he opted for a smile instead. “i’m just thinking about today’s trending hashtag on twitter. did you see it?”

he caught her scrunching her nose, apparently completely dissatisifed with the topic he’d brought up. ‘you mean about your solo stage?’

what she really meant to say was, how big can your ego get? he grinned at her innocently. “no, the one that said hyunjin noona and i made a great couple.”

ahyeon’s long nails were digging into his palm but other than that, she showed no real reaction beyond rolling her eyes. ‘you’re way in over your head. hyunjin unnie has better taste than that.’

“then she should’ve seen me in today’s stage outfit — ”

‘you’re unbelievable.’

a lopsided grin slid onto his face when he heard the note of irritiation in her voice; for all it mattered, ahyeon wasn’t particularly closed off when it came to her feelings. she wasn’t as easy to read as an open book but at this point, hyuck’s been around long enough to be able to read the cues.  besides, if she really didn’t want him to know she wouldn’t have entertained him for as long as she did. his grin widened.

“only when you’re around,” he retorted brightly, completely unfazed by the pointed look she threw him from over her shoulder. despite the mask covering most of her expression, he was one hundred percent certain she was flushing pink if the quickness with which she looked away was anything to go by.

they were still walking, the journey to the observation deck going quicker than anticipated. probably because at this time of the day, people weren’t interested in catching a nice view of seoul and were preoccupied with making dinner for their families instead. the well-lit, pretty streets were soon exchanged for stairs that led away from the hustle and bustle of the city, the noise soon fading into the background as their chatter about their upcoming schedules morphed into updates on their families.

once they’d reached the viewing platform, hyuck turned to glance down at the street. it seemed small from here, car and lamplights the only indication that the city was alive. the hour brought with it a deeper darkness and a still-deeper chill; it smelled cold when he pulled off his mask, the chill hitting his nose and coating his throat. he coughed as the cold reached his chest, causing him to bundle his coat up a little tighter.

hyuck missed spring. what he didn’t miss was the skeptical look ahyeon threw his way.

he cocked an eyebrow. “aren’t you going to take the mask off?”

‘what, so people will recognize us?’

her question made him flick his head to her, finding ahyeon studying him. his easygoing grin faded, a touch of concern tugging at his brow before he let go of her hand to step closer, gently bringing his right hand up to pull down her mask. “so? let them. seojun can clean up that mess for all i care.”

the gap between them was now barely a couple of inches. hyuck was almost sure he could feel ahyeon’s pulse fluttering when he looked into her slightly widened eyes, the surprise in them evident; coupled with the heat crackling in the gap between them, it was enough to make his throat tighten. it wasn’t unusual for him to see the signs of attraction from others, even when trying his hardest not to notice them but seeing these stirrings in ahyeon endeared her to him in ways he couldn’t vocalize, only marvel at.

a question reflected in her gaze, one that pinned him to the spot and left him in utter silence. ahyeon shook her head the smallest amount, only perceptible by the way the strands of hair which have escaped her braids shimmered around her face. his heart leapt into his throat.

do you really mean that?

“you didn’t think i’d want to come up all the way here for the view, did you?” hyuck made an expression somewhere between a frown and a half-amused smile, his fondness for ahyeon crashing down on him in that sole moment stronger than anything else he’d ever felt before. “i realize i never asked you to be my girlfriend. officially, i mean.”

hyuck tore his eyes away from hers to let it wander the sights, feeling flushed and inexplicably self-conscious all of a sudden. “you know, minjae called me stupid for not asking sooner,” he recounted dryly, feigned offense dripping in his tone.

he could still feel ahyeon’s eyes on his face, searching his features for something. it felt as though her gaze was leaving burning marks behind and he cleared his throat; it wasn’t that he didn’t know how she felt. they’d made that pretty clear but to lay one’s heart bare still was a massive step, considering all the trouble it could cause. he wanted  — no, he needed it to matter to her just the same.

‘pot calling the kettle black,’ ahyeon laughed but her voice came out sounding strangely rough. ‘you do know seoyoung and he are worse by a mile.’

“worse than us?” his gaze slid back to her with an accompanying smirk. she rolled her eyes, a touch of their previous banter returning. he realized it was how he liked her best — free with her opinions and honest with them and by god, as difficult as she could be, he wouldn’t want her any other way.

‘us?’ she repeated, voice tinged with warmth, her hands coming up to rest on the lapels of his coat. the easy, conversational air buckled with the weight of the tension her expression brought but he wanted this, more than he would ever be able to put into words.

“if you’ll have me?” he countered the question with one of his own. something about the way her gaze softened left him pondering his options before deciding to simply go for it. leaning forward, he let his eyes close; their lips met gently at first and he savoured the sensation and the touch which sent a tingle buzzing about his system.

“can you get this done by five?” soobin huffs impatiently, still nursing his headache. half of last night has already been wiped from his memory and minsoo’s strained laugh in an attempt to charm the employees the minute they entered the salon has only added to soobin’s growing irritation. nevermind the fact that ahyeon apparently thought it was a good idea to withhold room service until each of them had taken a shower and then declared that there was no time for them to have breakfast (brunch, lunch, dinner — whatever).

minsoo leans in closer to the mirror when his thoughts are interrupted by what he’s seeing. placed in a chair next to each other with two stylists dutifully seeing to their hairstyles at the behest of kihyun and ahyeon, soobin notices with faint amusement written across his features how his friend’s focused gaze meets that of his hairdresser in the mirror, obviously stirring emotions in the woman while the blush rises high on her cheeks.

“watch it, minsoo. i’d prefer she didn’t do the passing out part on you.” the comment is said with every intention of embarrassing the woman and he’s pleased to see her recoil, her colleague’s brows meeting in the middle when she turns to frown at her. from the corner of his eyes, he catches minsoo’s knowing grin. ‘no worries sweetheart, i’d catch you.’

soobin twists around, deftly managing to avoid his own stylist’s hands while winking at his friend’s stylist. “something’s wrong with his phone. it doesn’t have your number in it.”

minsoo snorts before he throws him a look, clearly amused by the fact that their phones are resting at the bottom of the han river.

he doesn’t miss the confused glances the two women exchange with each other, his grin growing wider subsequently. there’s nothing quite as easy as confusing or charming people, pick your poison. since he knows they have to do the latter later that day, they might as well commit to the former now. spice things up a little and all that; he’s pretty sure word will get back to kihyun, seeing as this is ahyeon’s favorite salon to go. at this point, it’s half a miracle the two of them haven’t installed cctv cameras at every possible location they frequently go to in order to keep eyes on them.

‘so aside from me, what are you doing tomorrow evening?’

soobin watches the stylist nearly topple over at minsoo’s words though she obviously hesitates to say something under the watchful eyes of her colleague. if he wasn’t so completely taken by the fact that his friend has the nerve to flirt with the help he might’ve helped him out. he’s pretty sure he’s overheard some of the younger hairdressers whispering something among themselves when they first showed up and judging from the look the owner of the salon sent their way, he’s sure ahyeon sent them a warning before.

in the same way he’s certain minsoo knows it just as well but simply chooses not to care about it. he leans back in his chair, grinning to himself.

‘pardon me but can you sit straight, please?’ the woman’s eyes sparkle with bashful excitement while she gently corrects minsoo’s position with her hands. it takes a lot of effort for soobin not to burst into unabashed laughter at the sight of her hesitant gestures while minsoo’s practically basking in her shy attention. ‘come on, don’t leave me hanging like this.’

based off her reaction, soobin’s sure that nobody’s paid attention to her in such a brash way before so having minsoo’s sudden undivided and very close attention must be a little unnerving. “are you trying to make her swoon, min?”

‘is it working?’ he shoots back, looking very pleased with himself.

soobin’s head is pounding and it’s bad. hunched over, he’s got his face covered with his hands while he leans forward in an effort to keep the light from completely blinding him.

“you guys look like shit.”

soobin vaguely catches the undercurrent of schadenfreude in ahyeon’s words. the younger doesn’t even need to open his eyes to know she’s dragged in other people; it’s the sudden noise that tells him as much. someone is pulling at the curtains with vigor to allow the sunlight to stream in while minsoo lets out a loud, unappreciative groan. ‘what the fuck?’

‘you two got some nerve.’ that’s kihyun’s voice, deep and growling like he’s ready to tear the two of them a new one any minute now. soobin would like nothing more than to pretend he feels threatened, if only to humour the other man, but the wave of nausea hitting him prevents him from coming up with a smartass comment.

kihyun continues on, apparently not having noticed soobin’s struggle. ‘the fuck were you two doing? we’ve been out for hours looking for you.’

there’s movement and a noise that sounds suspiciously like ahyeon tapping her nails against her phone. the hair on the back of his neck stands up, the sound aggravating his already tampered senses when he grits out through clenched teeth a polite who the fuck asked you to?

he hears minsoo snickering. a beat of silence passes in which soobin hesitantly tries to open his eyes to take in his surroundings, fleetingly regretting that decision when they are immediately assaulted by the bright rays of sunshine peeking into the room.

ahyeon nudges kihyun before he feels the mattress shift gently under the weight of the older girl. he shivers when cold fingers grip his chin but he remains silent while ahyeon inspects him, still struggling against the onslaught of colors, scents and noises. she doesn’t say something, instead choosing to grab minsoo by the ankle who’s half-hanging from the bed to drag him closer. the boy yelps indignantly, eyes still stubbornly closed.

“noona, you should have let us know if you wanted to join us — ”

she unceremoniously shoves soobin, the boy sluggishly falling back. his head spins.

‘shelve the stupid comments. how’d you wind up here? we were close to calling the cops when both of you didn’t answer your phones.’ kihyun doesn’t sound willing to entertain the notion that snitching on his younger brother and his best friend would have been the more sensible option given their current state of mind but hindsight is 20/20. soobin looks at him through narrowed eyes while minsoo is struggling bravely against ahyeon’s firm grip as she inspects the latter.

“we threw our phones in the han river.”

‘why in the ever loving hell would you do that?’ kihyun sounds tired.

before soobin can manage an honest explanation, minsoo (whose eyes are now mischievously studying his elder brother’s frame) steps in with a wiggle of his brows. ‘we lost a bet.’

“must have been one hell of a bet,” ahyeon mumbles before roguishly slapping minsoo’s cheeks, one stern glare sending him into an irritated silence. without taking her eyes off her best friend’s younger brother, she chews on something before letting the words fall from her lips. “kihyun, these two still smell like a distillery. i’d be surprised if that’s where the fun stopped for them last night.”

‘not this shit again.’ the older runs his hand through his hair while minsoo and soobin exchange a conspiratorial glance. ahyeon fluidly moves away from the two to pay attention to kihyun, throwing him a poignant look as she crosses her arms leisurely in front of her stomach. “i think they slept through the worst of it.”

soobin cracks a boyish smirk when he catches minsoo’s shit-eating grin directed at the other two. ‘wanna know what we dreamed about too?’

it’s more difficult to tell if the calm that kihyun radiates is a good or bad sign. he’s usually the first one to let out a barrage of curses in these situations so for him to hold his flaring temper under such control is either incredibly admirable or a sign of impending doom. perhaps if the two of them were sober, they would have more appreciation for the fact that kihyun decided not to rat them out to their parents though at present, that’s the last thing on their mind. in fact, soobin’s eyes are still burning and his head is still throbbing and a quick look thrown at minsoo has him guessing that he feels about just the same.

‘i don’t care what the fuck you guys smoked, drank or threw up last night but haneul’s reception is starting in a couple of hours and you two assholes are supposed to attend.’ the steely look kihyun gives them is enough to know there’s no way to get him to relent on this.

usually, these gatherings aren’t that bad either. they attend, charm a couple of journalists and art critics, mock a few of those who think they know what they’re talking about and then dip when they’re no longer necessary to promote haneul’s brand. that’s what you get for being born into families that do business with each other — you play nice and in return, some of their discretions are subtly swept under the rug. soobin is sure that kihyun is about as interested in hunting for him and minsoo for hours as they are in attending but there’s no use to argue his point. they did agree to attend, after all.

beside him, minsoo’s body slumps into itself. ‘that’s today?’

ahyeon snorts. “we’re getting you appointments at a salon, don’t worry. there’s no way you’ll attend tonight looking like this.” she waves a hand in their general direction, her look full of detached dismissal.

‘but we already had plans for tonight — ’