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outofconcheol · 25 days

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resonance (scb x f!reader) - teaser

pairing: android!changbin x heiress!reader

genres/aus/rating: romance, angst, smut, arranged marriage, cyberpunk au, 18+

summary: Perfection - an idea that’s been drilled into you from birth. As the sole heir to the empire known as Miroh Labs, you’ve watched technology and tradition collide. However, your family’s latest venture is one that puts your own fate in limbo – ambitiously arranging a marriage to an android of their creation, known as C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N. Grappling with the idea of marrying a machine, you come to realize Changbin is more than a set of intricate codes – the profound depths of his abilities are capable of changing the fabric of society, and you, forever.

warnings (to be updated with final fic): strained parent child relationships (OC's parents are jerks), class differences, failed past relationship mentioned, i think that's it for the teaser.

word count: 1k for the teaser, expected 10-15k for final fic

a/n: surprise! i struggled with coming up for an idea for Changbin's bday fic for the longest time, and of course i finally come up with one when his birthday's way past. I can't make any promises but I'm working hard on this and hoping to get it to you by the end of this week maybe (if work cooperates). Also, thank you to the lovely sarah (@caelesjjk) for the banner. I hope you enjoy!

It’d been years since you’d seen candles - forgotten memories of birthdays past that faded into oblivion. Their warm, nascent glow had flickered much like your own life had, the comfort of past years giving way to the bright, grating pixels of the lights that illuminated New Domino - bright pinks, vivid greens, cool blues and silvers. Lights that greeted you from your window when you went to bed every night, reminding you that no matter how much your life stalled, the city never would, much of it your own family’s doing.

The years before Miroh Labs, your family’s company, took hold of the city, became difficult to recall — before the towering skyscrapers blocked out the sun, neon lights replacing its rays, technology weaving itself seamlessly into the fabric of your lives, like the patterns on your dress.

Picking at the threads – you wonder if someone had put love and care into intertwining each one, meeting perfectly to create the image of a flower. But the thought quickly dispels — knowing that a specialized machine was behind it, or an android doing the work that was once meant for humans.

Resonance, your family prided themselves on saying. The ability of an object to match another’s frequency – only it’d progressed beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. Systems had advanced from being motherboards connected to screens to full blown humanized machines, who not only had to ability to perform human functions, but excel at them when it came to speed, efficiency, and cost.

The thought of it made you sick to your stomach. As the presumptive heir to Miroh Labs’ empire, you’d seen firsthand how ambition had slowly given way to greed, your family creating and creating and creating, giving no mind to how their projects always seemed to end up in the hands of the city’s elite.

You’d been to the outskirts, the fringes of society failing to catch up with the advancement of the inner city, a ruined wasteland where people struggled to find work to bring home food for their families.

But they had candles, you muse, smiling lightly to yourself, remembering how you’d passed by a home once, devoid of any electricity, a single candle flickering in the window, the family huddled around their only source of light. It had brought them closer in ways that you could only dream of.

Which is why the intimate setting of the dining room shocked you today – lights dim, candleglow every prominent. Except instead of comforting you, it felt strangely eerie, casting shadows on the faces of your parents, seated at the head of the long table, your own chair pulled out at the very opposite end.

Of course - your parents spared no opportunity to turn even the simplest of dinners into a boardroom meeting. Wincing, you feel the chair screech as you slide it across the cool tile, the sound grating your ears, which have begun to ring, pain throbbing at your temples.

The food is untouched, grave expressions on your parents’ face, and it’s your father who breaks the deafening silence.

“There’s a new project we want you to be a part of—”

“Forget it,” you pick at your plate. “I’m not interested. It’s not like I can contribute anything useful anyway.”

“This one’s different,” your mother’s voice cuts you off, and it’s softer, more gentle than you’ve ever heard it. For a moment, you could believe she actually cared.

Your father’s footsteps reverberate against the tile, walking over to your side of the table. A picture is set in front of you – a man. Dark curly hair, full lips, a strong jaw, the faint hint of muscle underneath his shirt. But it’s his eyes that pierce through the page – stark hazel. Your throat feels tight, closing in on itself.

“New employee?” you ponder, even though you know it’s not the answer.

Hazel eyes were for androids — no human would have eyes so piercing, ones that could glint in the darkest room, or pale in the brightest sun.

“___, meet C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N, Computer Human Advanced Network Growing By Intelligent Nexuses. Our pride and joy.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the words, knowing they’d never applied to you – you with your rebellious streak, your lack of achievements, your failed engagement to a man that was far too good for you.

Hyunjin’s face flashes in the back of your mind, and you fight to keep your expression from shifting.

“C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N was created for a very specific purpose you see — he’s been built and programmed to be the perfect companion. To provide all the qualities that one would normally seek in a spouse. Although humans are falliable, C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N is not. But we need a beta tester.”

The reality of what your parents are proposing dawns on you, horror creeping up your spine.

“No–,” you begin to protest, but you’re cut off by a wave of your father’s hand.

“The announcements have already been uploaded to the city-wide servers. Starting tomorrow, news of C.H.A.N.G.B.I.N’s launch will go live, along with your engagement announcement. The wedding will be held in two weeks’ time.”

You look despondently to your mother, hoping the pain in your eyes is enough to dissuade her. Were you really that worthless to your parents that they’d hand you to a hunk of scrap metal, dooming you to loneliness for the rest of your life?

Your mother shakes her head. “___, dear, this is the least you can do for us, and for Miroh Labs. Especially given everything that’s happened.”

They always wielded it against you — the fact that you were hard to love. You hadn’t been enough to persuade Hyunjin to stay, and they’d experienced the fallout from whispers all around New Domino. Now, you were barely human in their eyes, not even equal to, and probably lesser than this machine they’d fabricated, one whose fate had become irrevocably intertwined with yours. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

a/n pt. 2: if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

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luimagines · 3 months

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SKYLNK Rebooting Up

Another Commission!

They asked for more Android au. They wanted Skydroid but uh- I went with origin story instead. :D

Enjoy.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"Testing one two three, Skydroid is now live and active."

The droid blinked open its eyes and looked around its immediate surroundings.

"Perfect, you're online!" I cried and clapped my hands excitedly. "Good morning."

The droid sits up.

"Good to see the core gears and suspensions are working just fine."

"Hello Master, is there a name you wish to register me by?" The SKYLNK model tilted its head innocently and I shook my head.

"I'm not your master, I'm just The Doctor. I apologize for the inconvenience. For now, you'll be simply called Sky until we can send you over to your actual master and they can decide to keep or change your name, ok?" I smile. "I hope you're feeling alright. There are a few simple tests that I want to run by you before we can get into anything more physical and complex. Do you mind touching your fingers to your thumbs and wiggling your toes for me?"

SKYLNK model blinks and does as was told, matching my movements with my fingers and moving his toes.

"Perfect. I just want you to move your head around like this- awesome! Perfect. A lot of this is just checking if your motor controls are still intact and if there's anything that may need recalibrating or fine tuning but it appears to be in working order."

"The physical stuff was fine, it was just his motherboard and coding, you said so." Wild, my CALLNK model, reminds me from the background.

"But that was when we first got him. We need to make sure that there's nothing rusted or out of pace in the times when we moved him..." I pout. I turn to the SKYLNK model again and hold out a hand. "Can you stand?"

The newly awakened LNKdroid takes my hand and gets off of the table. The towel around his waist falls a bit, pooling by his hips but he doesn't notice. I look the other way out of politeness.

My repurposed TWILNK droid comes in and pins the towel for propriety's sake.

"We just need to test some walking cycles and get some more movement out of you. Then it's a few more questions and we can take a break." I explained.

"Because someone hasn't had breakfast yet." My TWILNK model scolds me from the side.

"We're this close to being done! How can I think of eating at a time this exciting!" I reply and help the Skydroid get used to his weight and height once more. He's holding his balance incredibly well and within moments he can walk in a clear circle without help.

"Darlin’, please eat." TWILNK sighs.

"Soon, you worry wart." I wave him off.

"Perfect SKY! Can you go sit once more on the table? We're not done testing you but you would need a quick debriefing of your purpose and mission, ok?" I point to the examination table and watch as he does as he's told, moving with calculated ease and precision.

"Alright, you're in better shape than I thought." I comment and jump in place again. "Ok, here's the thing. You're going to a friend of mine to help out. They already have a WNKLNK200 model, real retro, but he's getting on in years and can't help out as much any more. He's constantly needing tending to and replacements. Not to mention he can't even reach the top shelf. His name is Wind. An adorable kid but he needs to retire from his duties at some point. That being said, and as much we'd like to keep him around, he needs to take on less responsibility. Your job is to keep the house clean, make sure your new owner eats as they should and helping them wherever possible, including making sure they take their meds on time."

"And maybe get them to sleep at a decent time too." Wild pipes up, his arm twitching a bit unnaturally before it swings back into place.. "Wind's programming makes him go to sleep earlier so they're always up at the witching hour despite the fact that they're human."

"Sounds familiar." TWILNK grumbles.

I gape and pout at the larger android. I swear he’s got so much attitude for a heavy duty model. "I'm not that bad."

Neither Wild nor TWILNK have much to say on that front but I can tell what’s firing off their synopsis. Honestly, sometimes their facial expressions give more away than they have any right too. I rolled my eyes. “Regardless, knowing this off the bat would be better in the long run but anything is easier to learn once you're there. Sounds good?"

Sky nods. "Noted. Make sure they maintain a healthy diet with a clean living space and keep a close eye on their sleeping habits."

"More or less. I know you'll adapt as you're there but for a warning, they'll fight for a bit regarding this. They're stubborn but their heart is in the right place." I cross my arms. "If you can somehow get them to spend more time outside as well it would be phenomenal but it's not mandatory. Some sunlight wouldn't kill them...."

"Mistress..." Wild snickers from the sidelines. "You're inside just as much as they are."

"Not willingly! All my work is here! If I had an outdoor spot to do my work, it would be the greatest thing but as it stands I have no space to do that. Besides, what if it all got wet or something? I work with heavy machinery and computer parts." I sighed.

Wild doesn't look away and instead crosses his arms.

His silence is deafening. I pout harder. "I know you're right but I don't like it."

He smirks.

TWILNK says nothing.

I stick my tongue out at Wild and turn back to Sky. "That being said, I'm hungry. Feel free to explore the house and get used to moving again. In an hour, we can see your performance regarding your mission. We still need to test your default databases and your problem solving skills before we can send you over to my friend. But I think all the major tuning is done so we can also get you some clothes finally. Wild?"

Wild nods and moves to go get the outfit we have prepared for him and I gesture for Sky to follow him. "He will give you your clothes. I doubt that I'll need to look at any more panels or your hardware so we should be good to go. And you can have a little more dignity for all of this so that's a bonus."

Sky nods as well and goes after the other droid. His movements are still janky. They can hardly be called robotic. Major components might need more oiling but there doesn’t seem to be any more major issues that would need to be dealt with in the meantime. He’s on the recovery road and will be in working order in no time.

Once alone, I grin and run to TWILNK, having to jump to properly wrap my arms around his neck. "I don't know how you did it but your coding is incredible. Way better than anything I've had to do on my own! This would usually take another two weeks but if it all goes well we can be done by the end of tomorrow!"

I hop down and rub my hands together. "I owe you one. Whatever you want in your room just name it and I'll get it for you ok? As a treat. Oh my god, I’m so excited to give Sky to them. They’re going to be so mad at me. Man, I can't wait to see their reaction!"

TWILNK smiles in that somewhat quiet way of his and turns around. "Can I pick up the mess around the place now?"

"No! I told you, the mess is for Sky to clean. We need to check his programing still and the end result of his own protocol. Keeping Wild from cleaning all this up was bad enough but you are one stubborn man!" I huff and cross my arms. "Don't hate on my process. I swear there's a method to my madness."

TWILNK groans and stretches his arm out. "I'm a household droid too! I hate seeing messes when I can do something about it. Are you sure you can't test this later? Don't you want to live in a clean house?"

"It will be clean, eventually. Even sooner than we think if Sky does a good job." I grin. "And if you programmed him, I'm sure he'll be just fine. And then we give him to his new home and you can clean to your little heart's content, yeah?"

"Mistress-"

"Oh! Before I forget, speaking of my friend they mentioned that Wind's arm is getting a bit squeaky and stiff. That can mean one of two things but I'll need my tools to get the source. I gotta go get those and put them where I can see them or else I'll forget to bring them. If I forget and get there, Wind is gonna have to deal with potentially losing his arm and that just won't do. It'll break their little human heart to see their childhood droid disassembled."

"Mistress, the food." TWILNK groans, putting his face in his hands.

"I'll eat in a minute, let me just do this real quick!" I nearly tripped up the stairs as I scrambled about.

TWILNK groans and watches as Wild and Sky return, the new droid now fully dressed and looking as you would see any other droid.

TWILNK didn't really know what to think of this new guy other than he truly got to see his new mistress in her environment. His last mistress was hardly ever that focused and hard pressed for perfection.

It was sweet, the way this new one fussed over the new droid and made sure that things would have been comfortable despite the android not being able to feel pain the same way humans did... or even discomfort- not to mention that this Sky wasn't even awake to experience any of it.

She looked so happy.

TWILNK looked down at his hands as Wild began to run Sky through the mess that was found in the room. Vaguely, he could register that Wild was explaining what was considered trash and what was considered a tool or something to be used for later. But he couldn’t focus on that. His mistress had even hugged him- tightly.

She complimented him on his work.

The idea made Twilight feel... foreign, like he no longer fit into his own skin and he wasn't sure what he was going to do about it. Or if there was anything to be done.

Again- he was noticing more differences in this mistress than in the last one.

Part of him wanted to ask the young woman about it to see if there was something wrong with his programming or his biocomponents. Granted, she mentioned that programming wasn't her forte, and if there was something wrong with him then there would no doubt be something wrong with Sky and then it would mean that he would have failed his job and as a faulty droid that would mean his mistress would have no reason to keep him.

And he would be abandoned and alone again.

Wild came over and put a hand on his shoulder, watching Sky walk around the place, looking at his reflection and the tools and nicknacks his ever tinkering mistress had around her humble home, gaining information as he went. "He'll be just fine, I think. All his biocomponents were in tip top shape when Mistress found him and even then, there's only so much to do with a blank slate. This friend of hers is practically getting a brand new droid for free. Lucky them."

"What if-" TWILNK started, not wanting to give away the way his thoughts were deviating. "-something's wrong with him?"

Their friend would probably ask our mistress to check it out and then she would try to fix it. If neither of them can figure it out, they can hire a true professional at Hylia.Inc and get their recommendation or support or supplies for whatever might be faulty. Or- and this is the more likely version- they both just let him be and keep him as he is."

"How can you be so sure?" TWILNK twiddled his fingers in a reminiscent version of human nervousness.

"Well I'm here, aren't I?" Wild laughed, gesturing to his marred skin grafting, twitching once more as if on cue to prove his point. "I had missing biocomponents. I had exposed wires. I had vented or straight up irreparable paneling. I was barely functioning when Mistress found me and we both know there's still some faulty coding somewhere but she likes me the way I am. Horrible homemade skin grafting and all. She doesn't want to change me and she got used to it. Her friend keeps their Wind around for sentimental reasons. That WNKLNK was originally meant to help them as a child but humans grow and her friend technically no longer needs him. But he's still around because he’s loved and the humans want to keep him around, even if he's almost falling apart at the seams with how old he is. Our mistress tries really hard to keep him functioning as he should have been as if he was new. She does good work. Sky is in good hands regardless."

"Ok, ok, ok-" I came back, running down the stairs with a small black bag with clinging metal inside. TWILNK recognized the bag. It was my travel tool bag that I always had with me when I went on home visits to check on other droids. "I have my tools, I have my notes, I have my phone and my wallet. I-"

"Haven't eaten yet, ma’am." TWILNK finished, trying to keep his voice neutral. He can’t have any reason for anyone to think that he’s been deviating. He doesn’t want to be left out.

His words startled me as if I forgot he was there and his expression dropped a bit. It broke TWILNK’s mechanical heart.

"But you usually call me-... never mind. Yeah, I'll eat. What's for breakfast Wildcat?" I cleared my throat and tried to smile, looking over at him completely with a scrutinizing look on her face. She looked

The action caused him to freeze, his biocomponents going cold.

TWILNK didn't get it, it was what he was supposed to call her. What was he doing wrong? And how can he keep himself from being sent out again? He didn't want to lose this new home.

I hummed and nodded, not knowing his internal struggles of accepting his place in my home. Wild patted his head for a moment before tilting it to the side. “I made bacon and waffles. I left it on the back burner to keep it warm for you.”

I smiled and dropped my bag of tools onto the floor. “Thank you, lovely. I’ll go get it. Will you show Mr. Sky around the protocols and tests I had pla-”

I look around my workshop again and deflate slightly. It was already cleaner by a long shot. Sky was still picking up little smaller pieces of trash as I spoke. “Oh… I see you already started him on that.”

Wild struck out his hand before angling it behind his head. “Was I not supposed to, Mistress?”

I shook my head. “I was planning to do that later but there’s no harm in getting him already started.”

I bit my lip and looked back at my TWILNKdroid. I really needed to give him a proper name. He deserves just as much. But might have to happen later. “Do you think you can show him how to do some handy work around the house? There’s that faulty sink in the bathroom and a lightbulb or two that need changing.”

TWILNK stands straighter in attention. “Why didn’t you mention something sooner? I could have already taken care of it!”

I smile softly. His conversational skills have improved greatly since he came here. Other “normal” droids would have simply given a yes or no reply and got straight to work. I give him a cheeky grin and put my fist on my hip. “I kept it a secret~ We have a guest in our home that needs to learn how to do this before he can be released into the wild.”

Wild snickers into a very robotic replication of a laugh when I do not mention his name. It’s almost endearing that he’s trying.

TWILNK huffs and crosses his arms. “I will do as you say.”

I wink at him. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“Grumpus.”

“Mistress-”

I feel like I got struck. Maybe I’ve been pushing too many of his buttons, figuratively and metaphorically speaking. He’s never called me that before but he’s called me that twice already. I know that he used to have another mistress but he never speaks of her. I don’t know what it means to be called that but I’m not entirely sure that I like it.

“Call me by my name or by nothing else.” I bite my tongue to keep my tone in check. I don’t need my droids to learn from my example. I don’t like my order voice but all three androids in the room register it as the command that it is. “Sky, there are some more chores waiting for you once you’re done with this assignment.”

The other droid looks up in a fluidly smooth motion. It’s smack dab in the middle of an uncanny valley. “Understood.”

Wild recovers the fastest and puts a hand on my shoulder. I pat it, but quickly remove it from my body. “I’ll go eat. You’ve improved your cooking a lot. It’ll be a shame if I let it go to waste. Besides… I’m the only one who can eat it anyway.”

I smile weakly and scramble back upstairs, not entirely sure why I felt as weird as I did. And it was entirely the fault of that TWILNKdroid. I didn’t know what to do with him and it was driving me crazy. I had no reason to take him in. But what was I supposed to do? Leave him where he was, dirty and torn and alone?

My very job is to repair and rehouse androids!

I couldn’t do that.

Not to mention that as much as I loved my passion project, Wild, the CALLNK model was beyond repair in a lot of senses. He couldn’t be fully trusted to be left alone in the house just on the off case something gets lit on fire.

Granted, he does it a lot less now that he’s focused more of his attention on cooking and miscellaneous craft projects that I’ve been supplying him with. But I don’t think the problem is solved just yet.

And then there was TWILNK who was a nice addition. I always wanted a model like him but I could never bring myself to make that sort of purchase for myself. When I found him in disarray and on the verge of shutting down, I considered it my lucky day and brought him home with me. I briefly considered calling his previous owner since he was clearly left alone but when I considered the state I found him in, I figured that whoever it was, they weren’t coming back.

Then! I mentioned about rehousing a different droid I had with me at the time to Wild and TWILNK all but shut down again. The poor android went up and down the house trying to find everything and anything he could fix in an attempt to earn his keep to stay here. So now I really couldn’t think about giving him away when I could see that it bothered him.

I took a deep breath and found the food that was prepared for me by Wild. It’ll distract me enough that I could forget about that strange reaction I got from the droids.

I was tempted to question my life choices that brought such broken, anxious and confusing androids- but I’m aware that I brought it upon myself.

I ate in silence.

By the time I was putting the plate in the sink I could hear footsteps coming up to the top of the house. TWILNK and ‘Sky’ were making their way up. TWILNK gestured for the new droid to follow him through the house to where the new light bulbs were kept so he could begin with his basic house up-keep lessons.

Admittedly, it made me smile that the three of them took such simple chores so seriously.

Then again, that was the sole purpose of their existence and the very basis of their programming.

“Should I get started on the dishes?” Wild comes up as well and stands next to the sink.

I shake my head. “I’ll get to it later. Don’t bother. It’s not like it’s hurting anyone.”

He makes a face and crosses his arms. “If neither of us do, your TWILNK model will.”

I sigh and mimic his position. “Then tell him not to.”

“You think he listens to me?”

“Well he certainly doesn’t listen to me.” I deadpan only for Wild to mimic my same expression. I doubt we’re on the same wavelength but he’s already learned so many of my mannerisms that I feel like I can read him like an open book.

Or maybe it’s the other way around.

“Are there other chores that need doing?” TWILNK comes around the corner.

I turn from my confrontational stance but keep my arms over my chest. I still don’t know what to feel when he calls me Mistress. It could either mean that he sees me as his new owner or he was just trying to get on my nerves. He certainly succeeded in the latter.

What can I say? I got used to him calling me ‘Darlin’’ in that farm boy charm of his.

I take another deep breath, meeting the larger droid head on. “Do you plan to do them yourself or are you asking for the sake of the SKYLNKdroid?”

He doesn’t answer me for a while and I all but fold in half. “You-! No! You don’t work!”

“But- my purpose-”

“This isn’t about your purpose. It’s about mine.” I blurt out before clearing my throat roughly. “I mean it’s about his. The SKYLNK’s purpose. He has to relearn everything from scratch so we need to give him the basics even though somebody has been keeping this house in tip top shape that I don’t think I have enough training activities for him to recalibrate himself.”

I give him a pointed look.

And he didn’t even have the nerve to look apologetic.

“It’s in my programming.”

I groaned. “Wild?”

“Yes?”

“Go nuts.”

TWILNK’s eyes widened as the scarred android cheered, running through the house with ‘wild’ abandon.

“You can’t do that! He could destroy the place!”

“I need to have Sky trained.” I pointed out. “If we’re lucky, he only sticks to the kitchen and teases my friend until they comply with actually taking care of themselves but there is no way I can account for anything. Wind isn’t as destructive as Wild, thankfully, but we can put Sky to work and get this place fixed up.”

I shake my head. “Let me take a shower. I have more work to do.”

TWILNK reaches out and grabs me by the arm. I tense for a moment, immediately reminding myself of his supernatural strength even for an android. But he’s very gentle in his hold.

There’s a thought on the tip of his tongue. It shows plain as day on his face but he won’t say it.

“Speak.” I use my commanding voice again. It makes me flinch afterwards. Again.

“Then… what do I do?” He says after fighting the compulsion to not answer me.

I let that process in my own mind. His reactions have been getting more and more human-like. I wonder if he’s aware of it. I shrug. “You can do anything you want to do. You can even help Sky if that’ll keep you from idly twiddling your thumbs. But you cannot do them for him. He has to learn.”

Glass shatters in the background.

Wild cheers

I try to keep the grimace off of my face. I have to trust my own process. There’s a method to my madness. There’s a method to my madness.

TWILNK also winces and sighs. I know I didn’t teach him that one.

Makes me wonder who exactly he was with before I came across him and fixed him up enough to be in working condition again.

“Twilight.”

He turns his attention back to me and tilts his head.

I smile and pat his hand. “I think I’ll call you Twilight. Your model name is a mouthful and you’ve been here long enough.”

‘Twilight’ stares at me. I can hear his fans being put to work as his processors begin to work overtime to make sense of my words. I take his hand off of me. I register that he lets me do that. I pat his cheek and bring my commanding voice. “New Name Registry. Enter: Twilight. Belonging to the house on Creek Circle.”

“...A name.” He whispers.

Interesting, but I don’t can’t question his words before I hear something wooden snap in half. I don’t own many wooden things.

“Can you please check on what that was before Wild breaks any more of my belongings?” I ask him sweetly.

With a new mission in mind, he nods and makes his way over in the direction of the sound and it doesn’t take long before I can hear both Wild and ‘Twilight’ begin to wrestle each other.

I shake my head, tracking my way to find my newest guest and resident of the house. “Sky?”

I find the droid staring at the photos I have of the many androids that have come into my house. They line the wall with various attempts at human expression of happiness. Some more clever bots have their arm around my shoulders in some of them and others give a thumbs up.

Wind is there too with his paneling open in his head as I worked inside. He is the only one with the learned capacity to make a silly face at the camera. Tongue out and all.

“I help them.” I explained. “Some of them have been brought to me from their owners to be fixed while others were brought in from the streets, the thrift shops or the dump to be given a new chance to live their purpose to the fullest.”

“And whEre was I foUnd?” ‘Sky’ looks at me expectantly.

I hum and tilt his chin gently. “I guess I still have a bit more work to do on your voice box.”

I hesitate to answer his question but it’s never paid to hide information from them in the long run. I feel more comfortable telling the repurposed droids about their history more so than the people who buy them off of me. “I found you by the recycling plant. Your motherboard was fried but I got you a new one.”

“Am I to be sold?” He asks next.

“No.” I put my hands on my hips. I hear my other boys knock into a bookshelf in the other room. “Like I said, I plan to give you to a friend. They need the help even if they don’t want to admit it. I think some new company would do them some good.”

He looks back to the photos. I grin and point out the one with Wind, one of the few child droids on my wall. “He’s in the same house I’m sending you in. His name is Wind and he is very special. I’m sure he’s going to want to include you in all the human interactions he’s learned over the last fifteen years.”

“Models are made obsolete once the new generation has come onto the market.” Sky tilts his head with some difficulty. “He is still functioning?”

“Very much so.” I proudly put my hands on his hips, noting the small ways his movements are hindered. Nothing to scoff at though. Easy fixes so far. “And I’ll proudly take credit for that. Even though it’s getting harder and harder to find compatible parts to keep him functioning. I fear that he doesn’t have that long left.”

“I am his replacement.”

“Don’t ever say that.” I nearly growl. The commotion in the other room stops. “He means too much to all of us. He is his own and there is no one that is going to fill the hole he’ll leave behind when there is nothing I can do anymore to keep him functioning.”

Silence follows for a moment.

“But I will admit…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know how long he has left… And I don’t want my friend to be alone while they mourn. They… will need all the support they can get when that happens. I hope that having another in the house will lessen the fallout.”

Sky takes a moment like Twilight did earlier. I also hear his fans kick up as his processors are sent into overdrive. “...Emotional support… I.. am not equipped.”

“You will learn.” I say, calming myself down. “That’s why I’m sending you before any of that happens. You will know what to do when the moment arrives.”

Wild hesitantly pokes his head from around the doorframe. “...I uh… broke a few things.”

I facepalm- shattering the tension in an instant. “I know. I heard. I could figure it out. What did you break?”

“...A glass… and your bed.”

“What the-”

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #android au #lu sky #lu wild #lu twilight #lu wind #mentioned #first person point of view for a change #this used to be the only way I wrote my stories XD

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whimsimille · 4 months

Text

THICKER THAN BLOOD

Chapter 2: "Come home to me, darling."

(Jeong Jin-Man x fem! reader)

"Why are you leaving so suddenly?" You questioned, your voice bouncing off the tapestry that adorned the living room wall of your quaint shared apartment and the oak bookshelves filled with classics.

The comforting aroma of a simmering homemade tomato sauce filled the air, mingling with the sound of sizzling pans and the rhythmic chopping of crisp, fresh vegetables on the polished granite kitchen countertop.

Dressed in a worn-out apricot apron adorned with faded sunflower prints, your hands were occupied with diligently kneading the carefully prepared pasta dough for your dinner, a recipe passed down from your Italian grandmother.

All of a sudden, the living room's normal sounds—the soft purr of Gunpowder, his gray cat curled up on the plush Persian rug, the low drone of the television playing the evening news—were replaced by an eerie silence that made your skin crawl.

On turning, you noticed Honda in the midst of rushing preparations for departure. He was hunched over the suede couch, lacing up his sturdy boots, his face etched with stern concentration. Against the dimly lit backdrop of the room, his figure blended seamlessly, rendering him no more than a transient silhouette.

"Where exactly are you off to? And what's the urgency?" You signed, your hands dancing in the air while you leaned against the wooden door frame. A knot of unease formed in the pit of your stomach at the sight of his hasty departure.

His gaze met yours, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips as he signed back, "I have to go. Jin-Man needs me. I can't disclose more for your safety. You know how it works."

He continued to pack his bag—a small duffel made of worn leather with patches on the corners and straps slung over one shoulder. As he did so, you caught sight of an old photograph falling out of the side pocket; it was of you both from what looked like a summer festival years ago, grinning widely under colorful umbrellas while balloons swelled around you both.

"But can't it wait until tomorrow? Is it really necessary to depart on the day that we get back together after several months?

The worn-out leather of the couch groaned under his weight as he rose, his tall figure casting a long shadow against the faded brown wallpaper.

Moving towards you, he avoided the cluttered coffee table littered with dog-eared magazines and discarded newspapers. His leather jacket, draped over the back of a nearby armchair, was quickly pulled on, the rusted zipper scraping against the silence of the room.

"No, it can't wait. But I'll be back in time for dinner. I promise." Even as he used a gentle swipe of his thumb to remove a stray splotch of tomato sauce from your cheek, his smile never left his face. “When I return, we can lounge on the couch, munching on popcorn and be engrossed in those old Hollywood classics you're so fond of. You can also show me your progress with that hacking project you've been working on. Maybe try not to fry the motherboard this time?"

"First of all, you better keep that promise. Second, I’ll hold you to it. Third, for your information, that was a one-time thing!"

"First, I will. It's a promise. And second, I remember it being a three-time thing." He chuckled, his laughter warm like a summer's day.

"Shut up. But tell me, why the secrecy? Why can't you share what's happening? Jin-Man usually keeps me in the loop when a mission comes up.”

Despite your persistent questioning, Honda remained resolute, his face as unreadable as a closed book. He gently loosened your grip on his arm. "Stop nagging me like Mama would. I can't divulge any details. It's not safe. But I need to go. Jin-Man needs me. Don’t you have any government sites to hack? Or do you plan on crashing our systems again?"

"Stop it, douchebag. You're being reckless. We need to tread with caution, especially now more than ever. You know that. And that was not my fault; their security was just… upgraded."

However, he simply shook his head as he smiled at your pout, pulling you into a warm embrace. The cold, hard metal of his brass knuckles, concealed in his pocket, pressed against your side. A chilling reminder of the danger that lay ahead. Yet you refrained from voicing your fears, choosing instead to hold him tight, the rhythm of your heartbeats synchronizing.

"Alright," you conceded, swallowing your protests, "at least take some food with you." Gesturing towards a Tupperware container on the table, filled with steaming eggs and a side of kimchi jeon—both staple dishes in your shared meals.

His eyes softened at your concern, and he took the offered container, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead before making his way towards the entrance.

As he neared the door, a rush of childhood memories invaded your mind. Sometimes you stayed up late whispering secrets under the covers; sometimes you felt his pain even when he was miles away, and sometimes you both fell off your bikes and ended up in the emergency room with scraped knees. They dubbed it the twin instinct, but to you, it was a lifeline, a warning system that alerted you when Honda was in danger.

"Honda, wait!" You called out, your voice echoing off the creaking wooden floorboards.

The desperation in your plea stirred Gunpowder from her sleep, her tail twitching softly against the worn-out rug as though caught in a dream of chasing unseen mice. Honda turned, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes questioning in the pale afternoon light filtering through the gaps in the old blinds.

A knot of guilt twisted in the pit of your stomach, threatening to crawl out through your lips and fill the room with its bitter taste.

The two of you were caught in a moment where petty bickering had canceled all the plans you had carefully added to your shared agenda. Your hands, once intertwined in unity, had become unglued from one another, your fingers now tangled in the strands of hair sprouting from your head. The hateful words you once spat at each other—words that had plunged through the gaps of your milk teeth—had turned into a somber reality. It suddenly seemed oddly appealing to consider dying in order to keep him around.

"I...I love you, brother," you admitted, the words feeling foreign yet so right. It was something you should have said a long time ago, after your parents' deaths, when it was just the two of you against the world. But you had always been afraid—afraid that admitting your fears would make them real.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he nodded, an unspoken understanding passing between you two. "I love you too, sis," he signed before stepping out into the afternoon, leaving you in the silence of the empty apartment.

While life in the apartment carried on around you—the stove still burning, the TV blaring the evening news, Gunpowder curling around your ankles, licking your calves—you felt tears springing up in your eyes as your thoughts raced.

Come home, Honda. Come home and tell me everything about your day, from the way the sun glinted off the skyscrapers to the way the coffee tasted at your favorite café. Come home and argue with me again, about trivial things like who left the lights on or whose turn it was to do the dishes. Slam your bedroom door like you used to when we were teenagers and stomp around the house in Dad's old boots.

Come home and laugh with me, share those terrible inside jokes that only we understand. Handle your knife in the wrong way, the way you used to when you're not on a mission, when you're just my brother and not a covert operative.

Come home and hold me again while I cry in your lap about the girls and boys that shattered my heart. Come home to fix the TV you always mess up with those greasy fingers of yours, leaving stains on the remote.

Scream at me if you need to; let out all that pent-up frustration that I know you keep bottled up inside.

Come home and tell me how you always manage to burn the pasta, making it stick to the pots. Come home and let me nag about your messiness, about the dirty socks you always leave on the floor and about the dishes in the sink.

But most importantly:

“Come home safe. Come home to me, Honda. Please."

2 months later

Late afternoon light filtered through the window, casting elongated, capering shadows across the glossy surface of your living room's hardwood floor.

Finally, after a whole day cleaning the place and trying to make it more child friendly, you were curled up in the embrace of the vintage couch and a soft, threadbare blanket, a relic from your childhood, was wrapped snugly around you, providing a comforting barrier against the creeping chill.

You idly stroked Gunpowder, who was as much a part of the family as any human member. Her fur was coarse, yet soothing under your fingertips.

Gunpowder was the only other living being that missed Honda as much as you did; her amber eyes held a profound sadness that echoed your own. You were grateful that Jin-Man let you take her from the animal shelter.

She didn't deserve to be alone, not when she had already lost so much.

With the monochrome scenes flickering against the brick wall, the contemporary television set in the room's corner was showing Casablanca.

Nonetheless, your mind was elsewhere, lost in a world of thought, meandering through a labyrinth of candid memories as your eyes were glued to the window, drinking in the expanse of the verdant family farm outside.

In your hands was your favorite cat mug, the one with the chipped ear and faded paint, a sentimental relic from your college days.

It was unusually quiet, the usual cacophony of farm life replaced by the relentless drumming of rain.

Not only was Ji-An nowhere to be seen, but Jin-Man's rusty truck had vanished from its customary location beside the red barn.

A glance at the old, ticking clock hanging on the wall—16:00, way past the time Ji-An usually got home from school—made your anxiety spike.

Just as you were about to pull on your trusty yellow raincoat to go look for her, you saw Jin-Man's truck pulling up the gravel driveway. He got out of the truck, his jacket hanging haphazardly off his broad shoulders, and his jaw clenched in a way that set off alarm bells in your head.

You quickly signed , "Hey! Old man! Good afternoon to you too! Where's Ji-An?" as he stomped past you, heading straight to his office. But he didn't answer; he didn't even spare you a glance.

Following him, you tried to make sense of what was happening, but he closed the office door right in your face. You were left standing there, frustration bubbling up inside you, a sense of foreboding making your heart pound in your chest.

As you paced around the living room, worry gnawing at you, the front door creaked open. Your heart leapt at the sound, and you turned around, expecting to see Ji-An, safe and sound.

But what you saw made your heart drop.

Ji-An walked in, soaked to the bone and covered in mud, carrying her pink backpack—the one her mother had bought for her last Christmas. Her uniform was clinging to her small frame, her hair plastered to her forehead, but she didn't make a sound. Not a sob, not a whimper.

Seeing her, you rushed over, dropping onto your knees to be at her level. "Ji-An, sweetheart, what happened? Why didn't you come home with Uncle Jin-Man?" you asked. A flutter of panic seized you as she remained silent, her eyes downcast. "Did something happen at school? You can tell me. I'm here for you."

“I need a bath, Noona. I don't want to talk about it right now. Is that okay?”

You looked at her for a long moment, the sight of her shivering form causing a lump to form in your throat. Her hair, previously neatly braided, was now a mess; the ties you had made for her earlier that morning were nowhere to be found.

"Yeah… Of course, baby," you reassured her, offering a weak smile.

With a sigh, you slowly rose to your feet and gently took her hand, leading her to the bedroom. You could feel her fingers tremble slightly in your grasp, her small hand cold and damp from the rain.

You then went to the bathroom to prepare a warm bath for her. You quickly grabbed a fresh set of clothes for her—a soft purple cotton t-shirt and a pair of comfortable cartoon pants that had cute little teddy bears printed on them. You placed them neatly on the bathroom counter, within her reach.

Once the bathtub was filled with warm water and a generous amount of bubble bath, you helped her undress the wet clothes sticking to her skin.

While Ji-An enjoyed her warm bath, Gunpowder sat in front of the bathtub. Her amber eyes were focused on the bubbles, her tail twitching with curiosity. Every now and then, she would bat at a stray bubble, her paw slicing through the air with a fluid motion as if it were a game.

With Ji-An safely in the bath and the clothes inside the washing machine, you then went to the kitchen to begin preparing dinner. Using cookie cutters, you shaped the food into fun shapes—a star-shaped sandwich, fruit cut into the shape of animals, a bowl of soup with alphabet pasta. You even managed to make a small salad; the vegetables were bright and colorful. It was a small gesture, but you hoped it would bring a smile to Ji-An's face.

Throughout the days you've been living in this place, you've tried countless times to make Jin-Man and Ji-An eat at the same place, to share a meal like a family. But Jin-Man always avoided you and Ji-An like you were viruses, always eating small things before burying himself on the couch while watching movies all alone or in his office working with Pasin. It was frustrating to see the distance between them, but then again, it wasn't your job to force conversations and lovey dovey moments.

Once the food was ready, you set the table and then sat down in front of Ji-An, waiting for her to finish her bath. She emerged a while later, her hair damp and her cheeks flushed from the warm water.

Gunpowder, having finished her bubble play, twined around Ji-An’s legs as the child sat at the table. You both sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the gentle hum of the washing machine and the occasional clink of cutlery against plates.

Then, to your surprise, Ji-An was the one to break the silence.

"Today, I waited for Uncle Jin-Man to come and pick me up from school. But he was late, and it started to rain. I decided to walk home instead."

You watched as she continued to sign, her hands moving with a quiet determination. " I was walking in the rain when I saw Uncle Jin-Man's truck. He slowed down, but I didn't want to get in. I was upset with him. So, I continued to walk, even though it was raining hard. Uncle Jin-Man stopped and waited for me to get in, but I didn't."

“I wanted him to come out and apologize, to tell me he was sorry for being late. But he just accelerated and went away. I was so angry, Noona. I wanted him to understand how I felt and how it felt to be forgotten."

"It's okay, baby. It's okay to feel upset. But remember, your uncle loves you very much. Sometimes, adults make mistakes too."

Shortly after dinner, you decided it was time for Ji-An to learn a new task: cleaning the dishes.

Filling the sink with warm, sudsy water, you showed her how to hold the scrub brush and guided her hand to clean the surface of the plates with gentle but firm strokes. You made sure she understood the importance of removing all leftover bits of food and how to rinse each dish thoroughly under the running water.

"Remember, Ji-An, cleaning is also a part of cooking. Once you're done eating, always make sure to clean up after yourself. It's not just about keeping your area clean, but also about respecting the people who will use the kitchen after you. See, we're not just cleaning up our mess; we're also preparing a clean space for the next person, " you signed, watching as she absorbed your words and continued washing the plates carefully under your watchful eye.

When you were done and completed with the task, you noticed that the sky had completely darkened, the bright hues of the day replaced by the deep blues and blacks of night. You gently dried Ji-An's small, pruney hands with a plush, soft towel and led her towards her bedroom. The room was bathed in the warm, cozy hue from the night lamp sitting on her bedside table, casting playful shadows that danced on the walls.

You tucked her into her bed. The fluffy comforter was pulled up to her chin, and you couldn't help but laugh at the way Gunpowder jumped onto her lap, purring contently.

"Noona," she signed, her eyes wide and luminous in the dim light, reflecting the soft glow of the night lamp. "Can you tell me a bedtime story? "

"Of course, sweetheart. Do you have any particular story in mind?" You asked, settling yourself comfortably at the edge of her bed, your hand gently rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"No, you choose, " she shrugged, her small body snuggling deeper into the warm covers.

You mulled over her request for a moment, your mind flipping through the pages of the countless stories you knew. Finally, one came to your mind. "There's a sad yet beautiful story from my hometown about two squirrels. They were mates—lovers for life and the town's favorite pair of animals. They were seen everywhere together, always chattering away in their own language, their tails intertwined. "

With each word, you painted a vivid picture of their life together. You told her about the female squirrel's illness and the male's devotion and his refusal to leave her side even in search of food.

As you narrated, you noticed Ji-An's eyes welling up with a faraway look. She interrupted you multiple times. "Why didn't the male squirrel eat?" "Why didn't he find another mate? " "Do all squirrels do this? "

You answered each question patiently, explaining the depth of the squirrel's love and the depth of his grief. You told her about how the male squirrel mourned for his mate, returning to their empty nest alone each year.

As you reached the end of the story, you noticed Ji-An's eyes growing heavy. Her questions became fewer and farther between, her chest moving slower until she slept. Still, she was twitching ever so slightly, hands closed and then jerking open in a rhythmic pattern that spoke volumes.

In an attempt to provide some comfort, you laid down next to her, being careful not to jostle her too much. You wrapped your arm around her small form, pulling her closer to your warmth.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of yellow and red. The hyena. It was lurking in the corner of the room, its eyes gleaming malevolently in the dim light, eager to haunt you too. You didn't even turn to look at it. It was there, but it wasn't real. You knew it.

"Goodnight, Ji-An," you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, placing her bunny toy in the place where you'd been seconds before. "Sleep tight, sweetheart," you added, stroking her hair soothingly. "Noona's here. You're safe."

You switched off the night lamp, plunging the room into darkness, save for the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

As you left her room, you closed the door gently behind you, leaving the hyena and the remnants of your past locked away.

Easing back into the worn porch chair, the fabric of Jin-Man's purloined shirt fluttered against your skin in the cool night breeze. A stolen moment of solitude, with nothing but a half-burnt cigarette for company.

The embers at the tip flickered, casting an eerie glow in the darkness. Drawing the cigarette to your lips, you inhaled, letting the sharp tang of nicotine coil around your senses and momentarily dull your worries.

Eyes shut, you allowed your thoughts to drift to the intricate web of coding and changes you had to make in Murthehelp.

The only sounds were the distant hum of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves under the night sky's vast expanse. Yet, this tranquility was abruptly shattered by the encroaching sound of hushed footsteps gradually growing louder. Your eyes fluttered open to see Jin-Man standing before you, arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the cigarette nestled between your fingers with a look of distaste as if you had the devil's hands between your lips.

A chuckle escaped you; the sight of Jin-Man, usually so composed, visibly irked by the cigarette, was enough to momentarily diffuse the tension. "Insomnia again?" you asked, flicking the ash off the cigarette with your thumb.

His hardened gaze didn't waver as he retorted, "I was waiting for you to come to bed."

You shrugged nonchalantly. Since your suicide attempt, Jin-Man has taken it upon himself to keep a watchful eye on you. The concept of solitary sleep had become foreign to both of you.

“What's eating at you?" he asked, his gaze softening slightly.

"Why did you abandon Ji-An at school?"

"I got tied up and lost track of time," he replied, but his excuse fell on deaf ears. You scoffed at his words, well aware of the truth. He hadn't forgotten; he probably thought leaving Ji-An to trek home on her own would toughen her up.

"That's a load of crap, and you know it," you retorted, stomping out the cigarette under your feet. "Do you think making her walk home alone in the rain is going to make her stronger? Is that your grand plan?"

His silence was a response in itself, resonating in the quiet night air louder than any words.

"You are unbelievable, Jin-Man," you muttered. The scent of fresh paint and pine filled the air. It was a far cry from the gunpowder and blood that once filled your memory. But you couldn't help but crave it sometimes, even if it meant pain. Pain meant life; it meant survival. "You keep pushing her away relentlessly, like a stubborn child refusing his vegetables. You're so preoccupied with making her tough and resilient that you forget she's just a child. She needs your love and your understanding. You forget that she can't even communicate normally and that her aphasia is only getting worse! You don't even let me talk with her teacher, and don't pretend I don't know about the bullying she's enduring at school! We're not in Babylon , Jin-Man! We're in a small town where everyone knows everyone else. For heaven's sake, grow up!”

He retorted, his voice sharp as a blade, slicing through the heavy silence. “You should be more concerned with managing your own aphasia and PTSD. Ji-An’s not your responsibility. She's not related to you by blood. Drop this saintly act of playing mom. We're not her parents. This isn't a dollhouse and we're not Ken and Barbie.”

"Act? I kept Ji-An alive after her parents died! I trained her to communicate again! And even though it's hard, I've made her eat properly and taught her how to brush her teeth and do her homework again! I've been here for her every step of the way! You just... sit in your office or hide in your room!"

His jaw clenched tightly before he spoke again. "You think that's all it takes? Just feeding her and teaching her sign language?" He spat out angrily. The tip of his tongue traced his bottom lip as he continued speaking harshly, "It's not enough! She needs discipline! She needs structure!"

You shook your head violently. "She has enough structure! She needs us, Jin-Man! She needs our support, our guidance. She doesn't need a soldier; she needs a parent!"

His face tightened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"Are you that afraid to care for someone, that afraid to love again? Are you hiding behind your uniform, your duties because you're too scared to face your own feelings?"

"Don't play with fire. You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I do! And do you think Jin-Suk would like to see his daughter being trained as a warrior rather than growing up as a normal girl?" you challenged, your voice echoing with the strength of your belief.

The mention of his brother struck a nerve. A flash of anger crossed his stony features, and before you knew it, he was charging at you like a wild animal.

Suddenly, Jin-Man's hands shot out, pushing you roughly against the wall. Your back slammed into the gnarled wooden planks, the splintered texture scratching against your skin. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through your spine, causing you to gasp as the wind was knocked out of your lungs.

"Why are you doing this, Jin-Man?"

In response, his large, calloused hands wrapped around your throat in a vice-like grip, cutting off your airway. His fingers pressed against the delicate skin of your neck, the strength in his hands threatening to crush your windpipe. It felt like you were sinking into an abyss, the darkness of his rage engulfing you, making it impossible to breathe.

You clawed at his hands, desperate to pry them off. But his grip was unyielding; his hands felt like iron bands around your neck, tightening with every second that passed. As you gasped for breath, your vision started to spin, the edges blurring as black spots danced in front of your eyes. Your lungs felt like they were on fire, screaming for air.

Panic surged within you, a tidal wave that threatened to consume you. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity as you struggled to draw breath.

Finally, his grip loosened just slightly, allowing a sliver of oxygen to rush into your lungs. You gasped; the taste of air was like ambrosia—sweet and life-giving. Coughs racked your body as you struggled to regain control over your breathing, your throat raw and your chest heaving. The salty tang of tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision.

But you refused to back down, to give in to the fear. You locked eyes with him, defiance burning in your gaze. "Go ahead, Jin-Man, continue," you spat out, your voice raspy from the assault. "Kill me. But know this: my death won't change the truth.”

“Jesus, you're so weak, girl.”

A chuckle found its way through your bruised vocal chords. “Yeah? Wanna see who's weak then?”

Summoning every iota of your willpower, you retaliated against his suffocating hold. Your fingers clawed at his wrist, nails digging into his skin as you strained against his formidable strength.

After a fierce and desperate struggle, your adrenaline-fueled power seemed to catch him off guard. With a sudden explosive kick, you managed to wrench yourself free, pushing him violently away from you.

Caught off balance, Jin-Man stumbled backwards. His feet skidded across the wooden floorboards, and his body crashed into the pot of vibrant lilies you had carefully chosen from the local market to adorn the porch. The pot shattered on impact, fragments of terracotta scattering across the floor, intermingling with the uprooted flowers and loose soil.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The only sounds were the soft rustling of the brutalized lilies and the quiet patter of dirt falling onto the floor. But inside? Inside of you, the hyenas laughter echoed through your mind, mocking you for getting what you deserved—too used to chaos and violence.

The sight of the destruction seemed to snap Jin-Man out of his rage-induced stupor, his furious gaze softening as he took in the aftermath of your altercation.

"I'm done," you said, breaking the silence. "I'm done with this, Jin-Man. I'm done with your anger, your stubbornness, and your refusal to let anyone in. I'm done with the constant battles, the endless wars. I'm grabbing my stuff and leaving."

“Y/N…” He trailed off as he grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you around to face him. Your bodies were just inches apart now, his breath hot on your cheek as he pleaded silently.

“Don’t. Just shut your mouth and let me go. I'm not your Barbie, right?” Each word was punctuated by the bitter taste of blood as you absentmindedly touched your raw throat.

“You can't sleep alone.”

“I'll manage.”

“You can't remember when you last ate.”

"I'll set a reminder.”

"You can't drive without crying."

"I'll get a taxi."

"Ji-An needs you."

I need you.

"She needs you more."

"And you, Jin-Man," you added, the sting of your words sobering the air. "You need to realize that before it's too late."

----------------

April 3:

"Are you serious? Did I actually have to buy another chip to send you messages? You know, the store owner looked at me like I was crazy."

1 missed call from Ahjusshi

April 5:

"Ji-An keeps asking for you. She asked me to tell her the story about the couple of squirrels. You know, the one about their endless love and devotion."

2 missed calls from Jeong

April 7:

"Pasin showed me the link to the site. It's pretty quick and easy to access. Even an old man like me can make requests for guns, right? Technology these days, eh?"

April 11:

"She asked me to put on Casablanca. It's one of your favorites, right? I remember Honda telling me that you're addicted to Hollywood classics.”

“Gunpowder keeps sleeping on your side of the bed. I hate it.”

3 missed calls from Jeong Jin-Man, son of a bitch

April 22:

"I have a mission for you. It's critical and requires your skills."

"Can you come home so that we can discuss the details? There's something about it I can't trust in a message."

8 missed calls from the son of a bitch

“I guess I will ask So Min-Hye to replace you then. I know you wouldn't want that."

May 7:

“Ji-An's teacher told me that you visited her today. Did you really make two boys eat dirt by grabbing her money?”

“I could've helped.”

May 9:

“Went to the market today and heard Kyung Soo say that you're a good kisser. I had to stop myself from laughing."

“I heard from the locals that he went to the hospital after being knocked out. Strange, right? Or should I say, expected?"

May 16:

"Gunpowder brought a dead bird into the house. I think she's trying to replace you as the hunter of the family."

May 21:

"I saw a girl at the market wearing a dress you would like. It had sunflowers all over it. Made me think of you."

"She was about your age, too. For a moment, I thought it was you ."

-------

As Jin-Man speeds in the direction of Ji-An's school, his heart pounds against his ribs like a war drum. His knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his forehead slick with beads of sweat. He curses himself silently, berating his own negligence.

How could he have not noticed that Ji-An hadn't come home?

The typical view of the small city blurs past him, the houses and trees merging into a hasty collage of colors under the evening gloom. The town's bakery, the park where the children play, and the old library all blur into indistinguishable shadows. But he barely registers any of it. His mind is filled with vivid images of you screaming at him for this oversight.

He imagines your small fists beating at his chest, your eyes—those captivating eyes that he secretly admired—flaring with anger and worry.

“How could you forget her again , Jin-Man? She's just a child!"

The guilt, like a ravenous beast, gnaws at him, driving him to press the pedal harder. The old engine protests, its roar echoing through the tranquil evening.

Suddenly, he remembers his phone.

Snatching it from the passenger seat, he dials your number hastily. The line rings once, twice, thrice, but there's no answer. He fumbles to leave a voicemail, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks into the device. "Hey, I… messed up. Ji-An... I… Just call me back.”

The voicemail ends with a beep, leaving Jin-Man alone with his thoughts and the eerie silence of the empty road. He tosses the phone onto the passenger seat, his eyes never leaving the road.

Nearing the school, his eyes flicked to the digital clock on the dashboard—it read 19:00, the hour when the last echoes of childhood laughter usually fade away. But now, the school grounds were eerily silent and deserted, a stark contrast to the daytime symphony of playful shouts and laughter. The playground, usually a vibrant hub of activity, was painted with somber shades, the swings swaying lightly in the breeze, their squeaky chains the only sound piercing the silence.

As he swung into the school's parking lot, a small figure suddenly sprang from the shadows, frantically waving his arms.

A boy was shouting, his voice hoarse and strained, as he pointed towards the grimy basement door at the rear of the school building. "She's locked there!"

Without a second thought, Jin-Man abandons his car, leaving the engine running as he sprints towards the basement door. The door is locked, but within, he can hear Ji-An's voice, her pleas echoing through the desolate night.

"Jeong Jin-Man! Jeong Jin-Man! Jeong Jin-Man!" she is calling, her voice scratchy and strained, likely from the first use of her vocal cords in months.

Frantically, he scans his surroundings. His eyes land on a fire safety box nearby. Inside, he spots a hammer.

With no time to spare, he smashes the box, glass shards raining onto the worn-out asphalt. He grabs the hammer, using it to break the rusted chains and unlock the door.

In a final heave, he throws the door open, revealing Ji-An inside. Her cheeks were flushed red from crying and her eyes were brimming with a mix of relief and fear.

She doesn't waste any time rushing at him, her small fists pounding against his chest. He doesn't move; he doesn't try to stop her. She's screaming at him, her words punctuated by her furious hits: "Why did you take so long? You promised you were coming back soon! Why did you arrive so late? Why did you let her go? Why did you let Noona go? Why? Why?"

He could only look at her, absorbing her words and feeling each syllable like a physical blow. Her pain, her anger, and her confusion were all directed at him.

Then he did the only thing he could think of—the only thing he thought you would have done in this situation.

He pulled her into a tight, protective hug.

For minutes, he doesn't say a word until he grabs her, holding her close.

Turning to the boy, he nods, "I'll give you a ride home."

The journey to the kid’s home was silent, save for the muted hum of the car's engine and the occasional rustle of cloth against leather.

Ji-An was huddled against the passenger seat, her body trembling slightly. Noticing this, he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around her small frame in the same way he did for you.

After dropping the boy off and Ji-An finally falling asleep, he drives aimlessly. The city lights flicker past in a hazy blur, their glow casting fleeting shadows on his face. He thinks of you—your laughter, your anger, and your determination. It's strange, he thinks, how the absence of someone can fill a room, a house, or a life.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sudden ringing of his phone.

Glancing at the screen, he sees your name flashing. He hesitates, his thumb hovering over the decline button.

But then he remembers how things used to be and how it felt to hear your voice without the weight of regret and guilt. He misses when your name didn't make his chest ache, when it was just a name he heard now and then but held no significance to him.

He yearns for the days when he didn't know you, when his eyes didn't instinctively scan every room he entered in hopes of finding you there. He misses the sight of you standing among strangers, wearing that ridiculous skirt he used to tease you about but now finds himself missing.

He finds himself longing for the mundane details. How you'd take off your shoes at the front door, placing your keys with care in the small glass bowl on the corner of the kitchen counter. How you'd drape your coat over the back of a dining room chair, your socks left at the foot of the bed next to the sleeping cat.

He misses holding back your hair as you succumb to the side effects of your PTSD pills, your body rejecting the chemicals meant to help you cope. He yearns for the times when you would climb under the white blankets with him, forcefully opening his arms to encase you between them.

He misses how you would place your legs on top of his and let your hands wander to his waist and chest. He misses hearing you say, "I missed you," telling him about your day as you would slowly drift off to sleep. And he longs for the times he would secretly kiss your cheek softly before he inevitably had to leave you for work.

He misses when you were simply strangers—not two people who act like strangers in public but once knew each other better than they ever knew themselves. He misses the simplicity of those days and the innocence of not knowing what it felt like to lose you.

Because, in the end, when the lights are off and his eyes flutter shut, the back of his mind always whispers your name, calling out to you like you are the only place he was ever meant to call home .

When he finally decided to answer the call, he placed the phone on the dashboard, the worn leather creaking under the weight. He switched to speaker mode, the familiar chime filling the small space of the car.

"Hello?"

Tinny and distant over the phone speaker, you responded almost immediately. "You left a voicemail. What happened?" In the background, he could hear the faint, unmistakable sound of a lighter flicking open and the soft hiss of a cigarette being lit.

"Your voice sounds rough," he commented, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere with a touch of humor. "How many days have you been communicating only with sign language?"

"Shut up, motherfucker. What about Ji-An?”

"I…" he started, faltering. The words he needed to say were stuck in his throat, like a bitter pill he couldn't swallow.

“Look, Ji-Man. I have nothing to do with you anymore. I’m calling you back because you sounded like a wounded little bitch and you said her name. Drop the show and spit it out.”

“I failed again, okay?" The confession spilled out of him, the words tasting like defeat. But he couldn't stop there; he had to finish what he started. "But, look, Ji-An spoke.”

He could almost hear your sharp intake of breath and the sound of the cigarette being hastily put out in the background. There was a long, drawn-out silence, the kind of silence that spoke volumes. He could imagine your surprise—the way your eyes would widen slightly, the lit cigarette forgotten in your hand. But when you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, filled with a strange mix of relief and trepidation.

"She spoke?"

"Yes. She called out to me. She used her voice, and she spoke."

"Look, I'm not going to pretend that everything is okay between us," he continued, his voice gruff, "But I'm also not going to pretend that we don't have a shared past. One that involves a little girl who misses you."

"You're such a bastard. You know how to manipulate me using her," you snapped, the sound of a chair creaking in the background signaling your agitation.

"Maybe, but it doesn't change the fact that Ji-An misses you. And you miss her too, don't you?"

A silence followed his words—not an uncomfortable one, but a silence filled with unspoken words and a shared history. And then you sighed, a deep, heavy sigh that echoed with the weight of your unspoken thoughts.

"I do miss her. But you, Jeong Jin-Man, are a pain in my ass.”

He couldn't help but chuckle at your words. "I've been told that before."

"I'm sure you have."

Another silence filled the line, comfortable yet heavy with years of shared experiences.

"By the way," he added, his voice softer now, "the key is still under the cat statue you put by the front door. You can drop by anytime."

"I'll think about it. But don't expect me to come running back, Jin-Man. We're not the same people we used to be."

"I know. But we're still us, aren't we?"

"We're something ," you admitted, a sigh slipping past your lips. "But I don't know what that is anymore."

"Neither do I. But maybe we can figure it out together, old lady."

"Old lady?" you scoffed, a hint of amusement in your voice. "Coming from a man who's 10 years older than me."

"Years are still years," he teased, a smile playing on his lips. "But whatever we are, Y/N, whatever we become, you're still… something to me. And so is Ji-An. Remember that."

"I will. I will, Ahjusshi."

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