#distant daylight.vii

[atinytokki]

Distant Daylight

vii. On the Streets

Harsh winds gusted down from the mountains and Yunho could feel them in his bones.

Everything was sore from walking and carrying his entire life with him, but his numb fingers were locked around Gunho, even as his weight seemed to grow more and more with every step.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew which path led back to town so he pushed forward with everything inside him. The night was deepening and the winds were growing colder, and even the claw-like branches of empty trees against the pale moon did their best to stop Yunho in his tracks.

“I’m freezing,” Gunho sniffled pathetically into his shoulder. He sounded much younger than he was and the sickness had ruined his voice, making him difficult to hear.

“I know,” Yunho told him, lying easily just to help him hold on a bit longer. “We’re almost there.”

He had no idea how close they were.

Eventually, the trees surrounding them became more familiar and an identifiable landmark appeared on the horizon.

A marking stone, one that indicated an intersection.

“Home is this way,” Yunho said aloud, hoping for a response to let him know Gunho was awake, but nothing came.

Unsure where else to go, he made his way across the fields to the street where he knew their old estate still stood, owned by the King and repurposed as whatever he used it for.

The town was quiet, even more hushed and closed down than it usually was at night, but a few lights were on in the windows, including the window Yunho used to gaze out of in his bedroom.

Clearly the house was bigger now and more ornate, with a scary looking gate in front. Sighing and redistributing Gunho’s weight, he walked through it and up to the door and knocked.

A frazzled looking woman opened the doors a few moments later and blinked at them in surprise. “Children?” She remarked, glancing past them down the street. “Where are your parents?”

“We need help,” Yunho said quickly, veering away from that question. If he answered honestly, they’d end up right back at the orphanage. “It’s very cold, could we come in and speak to whoever is in charge?”

Convinced by his professionalism beyond his years and the little boy passed out on his back, the woman let Yunho through and instructed him to sit on some floor cushions in the waiting area, where he lay Gunho down next to him.

The interior of the house was completely different. It seemed like everything homey and warm had been replaced from the floors to the colour of the walls to the furniture to the layout of the rooms.

With surprise, as Yunho read the signs above the doors, he began to realise what the place had become.

“They turned our house into a government building?” Gunho’s voice cracked as he turned his head around and squinted at their surroundings.

“You’re awake!” Yunho gasped, a bit too loudly for the formal space and sleepy adults scattered throughout various rooms.

“Excuse me,” a man’s sharp voice reached them from the end of the hall where he and the woman from before stood, staring at them. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“My brother is sick,” Yunho began to explain, getting to his feet and bowing respectfully though Gunho was still too drowsy to follow his lead.

This man was a council official of some kind and it would be a bad idea to offend him.

“We just need somewhere to stay while he recovers, and there was a maid here once named Jaein who promised to help us, so I was wondering if—”

“Don’t come any closer!” The man cautioned with an outstretched hand. “You say the boy is ill? What are his symptoms? I’m sure you’re aware that disease is spreading like wildfire through So-ai.”

“Well, yes,” Yunho stuttered nervously. “He caught some type of sickness and he’s feverish, but no one else will help him...”

“I’m sorry, but you must leave at once,” the official told him immediately. “We will not risk the plague’s spread in the magistrate’s office.”

Yunho’s frustration doubled and he walked closer, appealing to the woman who had been sympathetic earlier. “Please, we don’t know where else to go, can’t you at least tell us where Jaein went?”

“Visit the medicine man in upper Hagilsan,” she sighed, glancing at the apprehensive official as if communicating silently. “He has herbs that may help your brother.”

“And Jaein, I believe, moved to the archipelago,” the man followed up briskly. “Now, you have your answers, please vacate the premises. Without touching anything.”

Yunho obeyed after several bows of thanks and scooped up a drifting Gunho as well as the single bag they’d brought with them, venturing out into the cold again and looking for somewhere to regroup.

The best they could do was an alleyway behind a teahouse where the greenery at least provided some shelter from the winds.

“Remember that time we came here with Mother and Father?” Yunho asked, trying to keep Gunho awake and aware. “And you got lost in the topiary garden?”

Gunho hummed in acknowledgement, eyes cracked just enough to take in his surroundings.

“I need to find the medicine man first, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring you along,” Yunho finally sighed, laying out the single blanket he’d stolen when he stole his sick brother from the orphanage and lowering Gunho onto it.

“But I—”

“You’ll be just fine, I promise,” Yunho insisted through the huskiness in his voice. “Just stay here and stay warm, alright?”

Gunho’s eyes shone with fear for himself and his brother, but he nodded regretfully and curled up into a ball. The steam coming through the window eased his tension, and his eyes began to drift shut again.

Knowing it would tempt him to stay the longer he lingered, Yunho made his way back out through the alley and turned northwest to the hills.

Dawn was streaking the sky with greyish strands by the time he reached the hut, exhausted and shivering uncontrollably.

The “closed for business, out of medicine” sign on the door made Yunho’s heart stop for a moment but a candle was on inside and he knew the man could hear him.

“Please, I need help!” He screamed, pounding his fists on the rickety door. “I know you’re in there, please let me in and listen to me!”

The attempts went on for some time before Yunho stepped back and peered into the covered window where the light of the candle was leaking out.

Sure enough, a doctor was there at the table, an empty plate in front of him and his head in his hands.

Angrily, Yunho knocked on the glass and repeated his pleas to no avail. It was if the medicine man simply did not want to hear.

Just like the caretakers at the orphanage and the adults at the office, they would rather allow children to die en masse than put themselves at risk.

A wave of hopelessness crashed over him and he could only stumble away, outraged, and look for something to break in with.

As Yunho’s eyes fell on a large rock in the man’s extensive garden, he noticed a few other items of interest as well.

“Herbs...”

They were the type that could heal if mixed correctly, and while Yunho didn’t know the first thing about herbal remedies, Gunho had always been interested in plants.

Climbing over the fence and hurriedly pocketing two of every type of plant he found, Yunho worked quickly and turned back to the mountain path, aiming to arrive at the teahouse before the sun broke through the bushes and woke Gunho.

The sky was lighter on his return, but thankfully Gunho was breathing and mercifully asleep. Yunho gently rubbed his back until he came to, not saying a word as his brother first fed him some bread and then pulled bunches of herbs and roots out of his pockets and held them out.

“Gunho, do you recognise any of these? Do you think any could bring down your fever?”

The younger boy frowned in thought and looked more closely before gasping and taking a few in his own hands. “This ginger... you could make a tea out of it and some honeysuckle and perhaps elderflower... or you could try a soup of the garlic and coriander seeds. If only we had bone broth or cinnamon bark.”

“Just tell me what to do,” Yunho said with a comforting smile, immediately grateful they had chosen to seek shelter behind a teahouse of all places. Gunho didn’t chide him as he broke in through the window and snatched a few more supplies and key ingredients.

Gunho was growing tired again, instructing Yunho how to make remedies and drinking them despite the bitter taste.

“It’s alright, just sleep,” his older brother soothed, placing a towel soaked in rice water on his forehead. There were signs of activity in the rooms above the teahouse, so it would be best to stay quiet for awhile and hope they weren’t discovered and sent away.

Yunho had no more faith in the adults of So-ai.

He slept on and off that first day, eating no more than a few nibbles of bread smeared with a paste he made from the herbs Gunho didn’t need. All he could do was wait for the fever to break and hope the shop owner wouldn’t notice a few missing bowls and his pestle.

The second day, Gunho seemed to be doing better, but the unbridled cold was taking its toll on both of them and Yunho began to feel under the weather.

While Gunho focused on making more medicine, Yunho took to the streets to busy himself, digging through the garbage collected behind houses and shops, picking up the spare ratty blanket previously belonging to a sick person and any food that wasn’t spoiled.

On the third day, Gunho could walk and move around with some support, and it was time for the two of them to embrace the street life or make a plan.

There was one place the military hadn’t touched, where access was still available to all, so the brothers took the familiar walk to the university library, ducking their heads so the attendant wouldn’t recognise them, and holed up in the map section to find the archipelago.

“Remember when Father taught here?” Yunho commented quietly as he pulled atlases off a shelf, trying to cheer Gunho up. “He would let us play in his office as long as we didn’t break anything, and you always liked watching the students in the courtyard.”

Gunho nodded absently and flipped pages until reaching the eastern coast.

“Look how far away it is!” He groaned, falling back onto the carpet and covering his face with his hands. “We’ll never be able to walk there.”

Yunho took a closer look at all the marked routes and scratched his head. “I imagine most people ride horseback or drive carriages. If we want to take the safer main roads we’ll have to travel east to this city, Panhang, and from there follow the shoreline south until we can take a boat from Kon to the islands.”

He was very proud of his correct interpretation of the map, but his brother immediately started poking holes in his suggestion.

“But that doesn’t even tell us where Miss Jaein is,” Gunho whined from the floor. “It could be any of the nine islands with villages.”

“One problem a time,” Yunho said firmly, sitting back on his heels and formulating a plan. “We need money to travel. Even if we sneak into a caravan, we’ll have to pay for the boat and our food will run out soon. I hate to say it, but I don’t think we’re leaving So-ai for some time.”

Gunho lifted his head and eyed him carefully before sitting up and hugging his legs.

“I don’t want to steal,” he whispered, avoiding his gaze and staring intently at the map. “I know that’s the fastest way to get money, but I just can’t do it.”

He was still pure and untainted despite everything he had been through, and Yunho wanted to continue to protect him, to shelter him from those deeds.

“We’re too young to work for pay,” Yunho reminded him gently. “One of us has to steal.”

Suddenly, he remembered Sangwoo’s words back at the orphanage. Gunho had a baby face, he could use that to his advantage.

“How about this,” Yunho lowered his voice and moved closer. “You can take up a street corner and ask passersby for food and coins. There aren’t many beggars here, which means less competition, so I’m willing to bet it will work.”

“But I’m just a child,” Gunho pointed out. “What if they try to take me to the orphanage?”

“Tell them your parents are sick and unable to work,” Yunho supplied quickly, taking Gunho’s face in his hands and running a thumb over the lingering rash wounds on his cheeks. “Show them these scars and emphasise the fact that you recovered and are now the sole breadwinner, and it will work, I’m sure if it.”

Before Gunho could answer, the library attendant approached them, hands folded and eyes vacant behind his spectacles.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closing. All visitors must exit.”

Yunho drew back and held up the atlas. “Can we take this map?”

The man sighed and reached out to take it from him. “No, I’m sorry, without proof of enrolment in the university—”

“But our father used to work here!” Gunho interrupted before the attendant could get his hands on the book. “I’m sure you recognise us, we used to be here all the time!”

The man hesitated and then relaxed.

Already Gunho’s charms were paying off.

“Very well, I’ll loan it to you until next week, but a class comes in during the mornings so I’ll need it returned. Understood?”

Like perfect little angels, they nodded and skipped out of the library, taking the atlas with no intention of giving it back.

Without the warmth of the building protecting them, they could only leech off any steam that escaped the teahouse and attempt to make small fires of their own.

They snuggled up and shared body heat through the night, but while Gunho’s lingering exhaustion granted him sleep, Yunho could only lay awake and watch the stars, worrying that an early winter would put a damper on their progress.

There was no time to lose, so as soon as the birds were stirring Yunho shook his brother awake and prepared a quick meal of broth for both of them, hiding the bowls and any remains of the fire in the garden with their blanket and setting up shop near the treasury.

“Let’s hope several sympathetic rich people come by today,” Yunho tried to joke, rubbing Gunho’s arms comfortingly when he shivered and rubbed his nose. “I’ll be out looking for food and things to sell, alright? If anything goes wrong, meet me at the teahouse.”

And quickly, they eased into a routine. Gunho would change spots every few days, begging outside the government building and the university during the week and then moving to the town square in the busy mealtime hours. He was reluctant but smart about his tactics, unafraid to put on a show and act younger than he was.

Steadily but slowly, he collected coins for their travel fund, while Yunho watched the street like a hawk, memorising the residents’ schedules and sneaking in when their houses were empty. He tried to steal food from those with excess who wouldn’t notice anything was missing, but two weeks into his new day job, it was becoming difficult to find enough to provide for them.

Dinner was a measly slice of bread, torn in half and shared between them, and partially rotten fruit Yunho gave to Gunho.

“Is it enough yet?” Gunho asked hopefully as he handed over the day’s earnings.

“No,” Yunho told him honestly. “But we’re getting closer,” he encouraged quickly, trying to boost morale. Gunho didn’t need to know how far they still were from their goal.

“I’m still hungry.”

“Well, this is all we have today,” Yunho sighed. “It’s more important that we find water, so I wasn’t able to get much food.”

Gunho shivered again and nodded, laying down without another word and stroking the music box longingly. They couldn’t play it or the teahouse owner might hear.

The crunchy leaves they used as pillows were crumbling into dust, and Yunho knew what that meant.

We have to get out of here before the snows arrive.

Yunho had hit almost every house on the street before realising his method wasn’t sustainable. Sooner or later they would be discovered and blamed for the disappearance of certain foods and valuable items, even if they stayed away during the daytime.

Even the gracious gentlemen Gunho typically swindled would wonder why his worn nightgown still hadn’t been replaced with a shirt and trousers and where his supposedly sick parents were, since by now they should be dead or recovered.

While at the pawn shop selling a nice watch he had pickpocketed, another idea dawned on Yunho.

A faded deck of cards was tucked away into a corner with some other game pieces and before he handed over his goods, he pointed to it and asked how much it was worth.

“Five silvers,” the shopkeeper decided after humming in thought for a moment.

“I’ll trade three for it,” Yunho bartered back, and the man gave in quickly, not really desiring to hold on to the shrivelled deck.

Excited, Yunho passed over the coins and saved the watch for the card tables. He needed to learn every possible gamble and learn it well if he wanted his income to double— maybe even triple— without losing any money or valuables.

He sat in the tavern by the fire for as long as he could before the bar maid sent him away, observing the games that went on there and catching every trick the locals used.

He may not have paid much attention in school, but he was clever when his situation drove him to adapt, and by the arrival of the first snow he was ready to play.

Yunho approached a table of slightly inebriated university students and joined the game, putting the watch and a good chunk of the week’s silver into the pot.

In a scam he formulated by watching the rice field workers, he feigned defeat and got all three of his opponents to bet a significant amount before losing it all the moment he revealed his trump.

The students were shocked, but Yunho made off with their money before they could question it.

Feeling bad that he played games in the tavern while his brother begged in the snow, he hurried back to the teahouse and proudly displayed his earnings, handing over his coat and extra blanket and rubbing feeling back into Gunho’s limbs. His brother needed them more than he did.

“And it’s not even stealing!” He whispered excitedly. “They willingly handed it all over because they knew they’d been beat. You should come to the tavern tomorrow, I’ll show you some tricks and then we can both be making ludicrous amounts of money!”

Shyly, Gunho nodded before snuggling up as usual and watching the fire die down.

He’d been quieter than usual the past few weeks, and Yunho thought he knew why.

At least in the orphanage they’d been fed and clothed and sheltered from the cold. Now they could only dig holes in the snow and hope against hope that someone out there actually wanted them.

If Jaein said no, everything was pointless.

Yunho fought back tears and pulled his brother close. It was like hugging a sniffling ice block.

“We’ll be out of here soon, I promise.”

And Yunho didn’t break his promises.

When the weekend arrived, so did the wealthy customers, looking to unwind in the tavern and maybe bring home a few extra silvers.

For Yunho, the matter was a bit more life and death.

He managed to slip into a seat at a table of store owners, one of whom he recognised to be the teahouse owner. The man didn’t seem to know him, so he exhaled in relief before gambling away money he’d earned by selling some of the man’s own items.

Yunho put almost everything he had in the pot. If he lost, it would set them back until mid-spring, he knew, but if he won...

If he won, they could be out of there by tonight.

Anticipating his opponents’ moves and carefully calculating his own, Yunho again let them think they were winning before falling back on his favourite trick only to discover he’d been beaten at his own game.

The teahouse owner took the pot.

Yunho froze in his seat. It couldn’t end like this, he couldn’t let the man leave with all that money, everything he and Gunho worked for.

How could he face Gunho if he lost?

When the man finished the last drops of his drink and rose to return home, Yunho excused himself and made for the exit.

He knew the path the man would take and he knew a better shortcut.

Enraged, with hunger in his sunken eyes and hands itching for silver, Yunho waited in the shadows with a rock clutched in his sullied hand.

He was taking it all back.

The man didn’t know what hit him, slumping to the ground with a minor head wound and staying there while Yunho collected the entire bag of gold and rushed to the teahouse to collect Gunho.

While he shoved blankets and food into their shared bag, Yunho mapped out the fastest way to the coast and tried to consolidate their meagre belongings.

Gunho insisted on returning the cups and bowls to the teahouse owner, making him a pot of headache healing tea for good measure, and joined him as they sprinted through the night to the outpost at the main road.

It took until the moon was high, but a cart on its way to Panhang finally ambled down from the town in time for them to board it.

As he lifted Gunho up into the hay, Yunho caught sight of the beaming smile on his face and felt his own heart soar.

They were finally leaving So-ai, and soon the snow blowing through their hair would be far behind them.

It was a moment worth reliving.

And for one hopeful second, he had completely forgotten they were orphans.

...

A/N:  Well it’s been awhile but coincidentally you get a super long chapter to make up for it, since there wasn’t really a good place to split it. Let me know your comments/ predictions and have a great day!

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