#in hesitance for either outcome. perhaps everything's just taken away by the wind instead.

[noxtivagus]

random thought usually i kin characters that i love the most or characters i rather hate in a way (hate is too strong of a word though hmm)

[atinytokki]

The Windy Road

ix. The Ghost Friend 

The fish were thinning.

Some accident must have befallen them on their northern migration for the summer — pollution or overfishing due to the new military activity near the archipelago perhaps— and it was to the loss of the Song business.

The dry summer followed a dreary spring, which followed a dreary winter, which followed a dreary autumn.

Mingi had often seen Dahye and Bosung out in town on their way to and from school and various other outings.

He couldn’t tell whether Dahye truly had feelings for Bosung or not, but the backstabbing neighbour seemed to think she did and followed her around like a lost puppy.

It was sickening to watch.

When they both finished their courses of study, Mingi had some reprieve, but it was only until the day he woke up to see Dahye packing her trunks into a carriage and setting out for the capital. Her parents were sending her to start work there and as much as Mingi wanted to follow— to run away together and have a wild adventure in the city— his own family needed him. Badly.

With his mother’s occupation exposed, there had been a period where hardly anyone would buy from the Song fish stall at all.

In time it passed, and Mingi was thankful for the work but it was the type of work that felt like digging their own graves as they tried to save themselves from falling on hard times.

His father needed help with the business and his mother needed protection from slanderers. And Minseok was never coming back, so that meant Mingi was for all intents and purposes, the eldest. The responsible son. The adult.

A fire had been started and Mingi was fighting to keep up with it.

“I asked around at the market and there are hardly any in the usual places,” Father told him over the dinner table while the pair sat with the map in front of them.

“Bluefish, tuna, monkfish… I don’t know why, but they haven’t appeared and they’re long overdue.”

Mingi nodded and continued picking at the small scratch in the wood surface. “What did the other fishers find?”

“There were plenty of shellfish and carp,” Father sighed, and they both knew that wouldn’t last them the season unless they jacked up the price.

Mingi was tired of shellfish.

“You want to try eel?” He suggested, and Father looked affronted so he went on to explain. “Look inland for it, freshwater rivers and such. You’ll be able to sell at a higher price without question because it’s a delicacy.”

Father sat back and watched him for a moment, considering it.

“Alright, I’ll go to Ineo and see if I can find any at the end of the week, but it may be a long trip. I don’t want to end up wasting my time.”

Mingi nodded with something akin to excitement inside. It was fulfilling to be heard every once in awhile. He’d be eighteen next month, so it was about time he was treated as an adult.

The sound of the first few raindrops drumming on the wooden roof crescendoed into a torrential downpour while they looked out the window at the ocean.

Finally some miserable weather to match his mood.

It was the time of year when it could be deadly out there and Mingi was at least relieved Father would be safe inland and far away from the typhoons that plagued Panhang.

A fog began to cover the sea with the growing intensity of the warm rain meeting cool ocean water, and it created a spooky atmosphere that made Mingi remember an old story from his childhood.

“Hongjoong said it happened once with the gourami,” Mingi whispered as he lit a fire in the lantern on the table. “They just disappeared one season and came back like nothing happened the next. No one knew why, but some of the locals blamed it on a sea monster.”

Father turned to observe his reaction to mentioning Hongjoong when he stumbled over the name. It still hurt to think about him sometimes, dead at the bottom of the sea after being caught up in a pirate’s affairs. Mingi had been checking over his shoulder every day since for his ghost, haunting him as punishment for his idiotic behaviour.

They were his childhood— Hongjoong, Dahye, and Bosung. Without them, Mingi felt like he’d lost part of his own identity.

“You are more than your circumstances,” another voice shook him out of it, and there was Mother to encourage him. “That’s a truth I know well.”

“You’ll take care of your mother while I’m gone?” Father instructed, more of a command than a question, standing to wrap her in his arms before she ventured out into the night.

“Of course,” Mingi answered, joining the hug and relishing it while he could.

Everything else may have changed, but the three of them were still together.

It was difficult to say goodbye when Father set out with his smaller nets stuffed into the bag on his back, hiking southwest to meet the Chigu river. Mother refused to let Mingi walk her to town each night when she went to work, knowing her employer would be angry with her for doing so, but it made him feel useless to sit by the window and watch her walk away, keeping her head down and away from those who would mock her. Usually the angry townspeople dispersed after she left the house, but the whole affair made him uneasy every evening.

The rains continued into the next week, and Mingi began to understand how it might’ve been that night that Hongjoong’s parents died.

He wanted to cover as much area as possible but gave the rocks a wide berth while he could see them, adjusting the sails quickly to reach his traps and collect them before he lost the sunlight.

Rain poured into his eyes and the nagging voice in the back of his head berated him for not bringing a hat.

“I’ll have to buy one in town when I sell these,” he muttered to himself, hauling the last crate over the side and setting it down with the others.

He was cold, sore, and soaked to the bones but nevertheless took his time returning to shore, peering through the grey sheets of rain to make sure the rocks were still a good distance from him.

Father would be perturbed that he went out on the ocean alone, but they couldn’t afford to miss a day’s catch— even a poor one. They still had Minseok’s debts to pay.

While he stood at the stall, accompanied only by fish buried in ice, doing an adequate job selling his wares by emulating his father’s booming merchant voice, he wished more than ever that Hongjoong was still there.

They could have had the entire load done in half the time and maybe even gone searching for places where the sea was rich with catches with the extra hours.

Instead Mingi was left to pack his things and trudge home when the market closed to sit, shivering, by the fire with a book in his lap that he was only half paying attention to.

For a summer evening, the wind carried a strange chill and somewhere the sea goddess must have heard him, because a miracle came that night.

A knock at the door startled Mingi out of his reading. It was well past midnight, and highly unlikely either of his parents had returned, so he approached with caution, peering through the window.

Whoever had knocked was now slumped on the doorstep, having slipped in the rain. It looked like someone who needed help, not someone who wanted to kill him.

Mingi threw the door open and knelt by the huddled form, placing a hand on the bony shoulder gently.

A head shot up and even through the rain streaking down his cheeks, Mingi knew who it was.

He recognised all the angles of his face, the way he carried himself, even that nervous look in his eyes.

“Hongjoong?”

Slowly Hongjoong got to his feet, still staring at him with hesitation, like he wasn’t sure whether he would be accepted or not.

“Hongjoong—” Mingi’s voice broke and suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore.

He grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug, clinging on and crying like he was afraid to lose him again. Tears mixed with rain dripped down his face, and his sobs were muffled in the cloak Hongjoong was wearing.

“It’s me,” Hongjoong whispered, rocking gently from side to side and reaching up to stroke the back of his head. “I’m here.”

A shiver from Hongjoong broke the spell, and Mingi pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. “I’m so sorry, where are my manners, you must be freezing...”

He ran to the linen closet to pull out some towels while Hongjoong attempted to explain what he was doing here all of a sudden.

“I tried docking all along the archipelago and even further south, but there was too much navy presence at every other port and I didn’t know where I...” he said, accepting the towel and wrapping it around himself. “I didn’t want to intrude but I needed shelter.”

“You could never intrude,” Mingi rushed you reassure him. “We... I thought you were dead.”

Hongjoong froze and stared at him for a moment before blinking it away and wandering into the living room.

As he looked around, a strange expression came over his face. It suddenly occurred to Mingi that he hadn’t been in here since the Song family moved in, years ago.

But the weight of that fact was buried under a lot more unspoken pain Mingi didn’t know about.

Once they were settled in chairs and Hongjoong was adequately dried off, Mingi played host.

“Father’s on a trip and Mother’s out... working. Minseok’s bed is always free. So you can stay the night if you need to.”

Hongjoong sighed and smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Or you can stay here as long as you like,” Mingi shrugged with a withering smile, still too embarrassed to ask him to stay forever outright. “I take it you aren’t returning to Jangwon.”

Hongjoong stiffened and nodded quickly.

After a moment more of sitting around awkwardly, Mingi just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Hongjoong, where have you been? What happened?”

His appearance now was a third outcome Mingi hadn’t considered, and it was eating him up inside the more he wondered what had taken place.

There was a tense silence that followed the question before Hongjoong met his gaze.

Tears swam in his eyes but they didn’t fall. He was shaking his head slightly as if he wasn’t even sure where to begin. He pursed his lips and it occurred to Mingi that he probably didn’t even want to.

“Well, that’s alright,” Mingi coughed uncomfortably, heading towards the stairs and listening to the quiet sound of Hongjoong following. “You can tell me tomorrow. You look like you need the sleep.”

This Hongjoong had been to hell and back. He was a ghost, a shadow of Hongjoong.

Not until he was asleep did the darkness lift for awhile.

Mingi watched him from his own bed, trying not to stare at the scars decorating his bare collarbone, or the way his ribcage jutted out from beneath flimsy fabric. Whatever he had been eating, it wasn’t enough. If he wasn’t swimming in his clothes, Mingi would offer his own. From how small he looked lying there it was obvious Mingi towered over him even more now.

When drowsiness came over him, a small voice in the back of his head allowed itself to celebrate.

After an agonising year of merely surviving in this stale town while his life slipped out of his control, Hongjoong came back to him. He was really back.

Perhaps Mingi wouldn’t feel so alone anymore.

On waking to an otherwise empty room the next morning, Mingi wondered in a panic if he’d simply dreamed the encounter.

But there Hongjoong was, downstairs in the kitchen, cooking him a humble breakfast and clutching a cup of tea like a lifeline.

“You’re already up?” Mingi questioned softly, concern seeping into his voice. “You seemed exhausted last night...”

“I’m not really able to sleep much more than a couple hours at a time,” Hongjoong confessed, laying a plate on the table in front of his host. He continued to explain, seeing the clear curiosity in Mingi’s eyes. “Sailing solo against the currents and amongst all the trade route traffic will do that to you.”

“Let me get this straight,” Mingi pressed, swallowing a gulp of his own tea and pulling Hongjoong into the chair across from him. “You survived the naval ambush reported in all the papers and bulletins a year ago, and sailed here all by yourself without sleeping properly on what ship, exactly?”

Hongjoong bit his lip like he was having second thoughts before sighing and getting to his feet, motioning Mingi to follow him.

“I left her at our old spot on the beach,” he told him, following the familiar path down the cliffside. “She’s not much, but I think I’ve grown attached.”

By the time they reached the water, Mingi was bursting with curiosity. Hongjoong let him take a good look at the little boat sitting there, tied to the dock just north of them before he said anything.

It wasn’t the most impressive vessel Mingi had ever seen, a bit smaller than the Song fishing boat and composed of mismatched wood and sheets, but as Hongjoong went on, its appearance began to make sense.

“The bulletins were correct about the Stardust going down,” he told him through a strained throat. “This is all that is left of her.”

“You built this,” Mingi breathed, astounded. “Out of what, the wreckage? You must not have been on the open ocean when it was sunk, then. Unless you’ve gained the ability to dive hundreds of feet while carrying soaked lumber…”

Hongjoong snorted and shook his head, loving eyes on the little bobbing boat he had made. That thing was probably as close a companion as Mingi had been once, and it prompted him to ask what he’d been meaning to since yesterday.

“I guess the only question I have left is... where were you in the meantime?” He kept his voice low, afraid to startle Hongjoong out of his daze while he continued to stare at the boat. “I mean, a whole year has passed since word of the sinking of the Stardust. I always assumed you had-had, you know... drowned.”

There was a restrained silence for a few moments, and Mingi had quietly decided to try again later when his guest had been given more time to recover from the experience, but to his great surprise he suddenly received his answer.

“I don’t know what happened to Eden but his body wasn’t with the shipwreck when I returned to it. We were separated and I drifted ashore,” Hongjoong nearly whispered, digging his bare foot into the sand absently. It was probably too soon to be talking about it but Mingi couldn’t help himself. “I survived on an uninhabited island day by day through...” he trailed off again like he wasn’t sure he wanted to go into detail. “Through so many scrapes with death that I needed to find a way off. No one was coming to get me and I’d been there 292 days.”

Mingi followed his gaze past the boat and out to the ocean. It was cruel and unpredictable, even from his pleasant view here on the shore. He couldn’t imagine traversing it on his own, dead to the world and surviving a nightmare.

And to think it was his own loose lips that had caused all this...

“I’m so sorry,” Mingi choked, lowering his head. “About Eden and- and everything that happened to you. And being abandoned in the wild for that long? I can’t even imagine it. I probably wouldn’t have lasted a day,” he brushed Hongjoong in the shoulder lightly with a teary smile to lift the mood.

“You’re more resourceful than you think,” Hongjoong reminded him as he took his hand and squeezed it. “I was.”

Together they climbed the hill back to the house and watched the sunrise through the windows. The skies promised sunshine for once, and it was a welcome guest.

Mingi watched Hongjoong clean up the dishes then root around for more to fill his empty stomach with and considered how they’d both come full circle.

His first friend, the one he should have stuck with through everything, back to being a ghost boy and floating through this shell of a house as if he was haunting it.

Now hopefully he’d lead a quiet life, recovering from everything that had clearly already traumatised him, settling down with a trade he liked, maybe a family of his own.

And Mingi would be right there to support him. He’d never make the mistake of leaving his side again.

Although, he would have to explain things to his mother when she came home.

Speaking of Mother…

Mingi busied himself by hurrying around the cottage, cleaning up after Hongjoong. He’d tracked wet sand all over the place with his bare feet, there was a spot of dirt on the sofa where he’d been sitting, and the sheets on Minseok’s bed probably needed changing.

Generally, Mingi didn’t take much notice of the state of cleanliness the house was in, but as resident caretaker of it and an almost-adult, he felt the need to make the place presentable and also take good care of his guest.

“Hyung, do you happen to have a change of clothes?” Mingi called from the sitting room, glancing over to see Hongjoong turn sharply from where he was stuffing his face with toast and blink in surprise a few times.

“Everything I own is at Jangwon or the bottom of the sea,” he informed him, speaking with his mouth still full. “So, no.”

Mingi muffled his laugh at Hongjoong’s loss of manners and went to draw water for him to bathe in. He’d been alone in the wild for so long that it was hardly surprising to have banished all thought and memory of high society, but the fact that he also had untreated wounds and tattered rags hanging off him was a little more urgent in Mingi’s eyes.

“Let’s wash off some of that dirt first,” Mingi instructed, leading Hongjoong from the kitchen and into the bathroom, not prepared to have to drag him away and throw him in the tub, but unrelenting when that was the case.

It was a good thing he spent so much time hauling the squirming catches in his fishnets around, considering Hongjoong was as untamed as the ocean and of no mind to be scrubbed like a child, though that was what Mingi decided to do anyway.

“You’re shaking,” he frowned when Hongjoong finally stilled, fingers clutching the lip of the tub until he had a chance to grab the cleaning rag from him and scrub himself. “Is the water cold?”

Hongjoong shook his head, refusing to look at him, and snatched up the towel when Mingi offered it with a successful smile.

Now he was all clean and smooth again.

Eventually the new roughness around the edges would weather away too.

“Though we should most definitely get you something... else... to wear,” Mingi laughed when Hongjoong discovered a new hole in the shirt he’d been forcibly removed from.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” he started to say, but Mingi cut him off by handing him an outfit of his own for the meantime.

“No, I meant to take a trip to the market this morning anyway. Let’s just be sure to return before Mother does.”

For Hongjoong’s sake, Mingi decided he could miss a day’s fishing after all.

The first stop was the clothing booth, where they’d bought fabrics on Hongjoong’s birthday almost three years ago. It felt like much longer when a burning wave of nostalgia washed over him, but Mingi busied himself by looking for a hat like he’d meant to yesterday and didn’t dwell on it. He had a lot of regrets about that year.

Hongjoong wasn’t exactly shopping, mostly just standing around and watching the goings-on with a shrewd eye.

“Stop staring at people, you don’t want to end up back at Jangwon,” Mingi admonished nervously before steering him to another section of the booth. “Here, get yourself some shoes.”

It took over an hour to get him into a pair of boots he wouldn’t complain about and Mingi threw in a shirt, jacket, and pair of breeches for good measure when he went to buy them along with his hat.

“I know you like jewellery,” Mingi suggested as they returned to the main road, steering Hongjoong out of the way of some rowdy women in the middle of the road. “Let me introduce you to the latest styles in fashion.”

“I’m not a child,” Hongjoong groaned, brushing his hands off and striding ahead a few paces in rebellion.

“I know you aren’t,” Mingi explained, taking a couple steps to keep up with him. “I’m just… trying to make up for not spending more time with you when we were children.”

Hongjoong didn’t reply but slowed down and glanced up at his host with a nod that told him he was forgiven. “Yes, I do like jewellery.”

He fumbled with the chain of a necklace he already wore, a crystal swinging from it that Mingi didn’t recognise, and made a turn onto the street where the store was.

Deciding not to press Hongjoong about anything else, Mingi settled for following him around and paying for the items he chose. It was the least he could do.

They ended up eating lunch in the corner of a pub, and Mingi struggled to keep up with Hongjoong’s drinking pace but was glad to get him talking again with some alcoholic lubrication.

“So where is this island?”

Hongjoong frowned in thought before pulling a wanted sign off the wall and sketching on it with a quill from the nearby table.

“Here,” he finally passed him a map with the coastline, archipelago, and colonies plotted on it, as well as some smaller islands to the south that Mingi hadn’t known about. “This one is where I was, to the best of my knowledge. Admiral Kim’s fire ships ambushed us here, and this was where the Stardust went down.”

Mingi scoffed and finally looked back up at him. “You memorised all that well enough to recreate it?”

“Well, it’s more or less accurate to a couple of coordinates—”

“Kim Hongjoong, I’m amazed at you,” Mingi laughed and sat back, taking a swig of his drink. He was suddenly very glad he had suggested the pub and not one of the tea houses.

“I’m happy to see you smile again,” Hongjoong told him warmly as he folded up the paper and pushed it to the side, suddenly deep in thought.

“All I wanted on that island was not to be alone anymore. Somehow despite that, being in the marketplace is too suffocating. It’s much better in here tucked into a corner with just the two of us.”

Another reason Mingi was glad to have chosen the pub. Everything was in the open and capable of being scrutinised at the tea house. It would have been total disaster if anyone from Jangwon was there.

“You know, I thought about you a lot while I was gone,” Hongjoong suddenly said and Mingi tilted his head in disbelief.

“Truly?”

“Yes, I agree with what you said earlier about regretting not spending more time together,” Hongjoong explained with a shallow sigh. “There were things I couldn’t have told you, but I feel I ought to have done better, and those words I said that night when I ran away…”

“I deserved them. I should have done better, too,” Mingi confessed softly. “And I will. This is a second chance, hyung. We can live our lives side-by-side from now on.”

They clinked their glasses together and downed them to seal the deal, and as they stood to leave Mingi noticed Hongjoong barefoot again and sat him down to lace up his boots.

“But not if you won’t keep your shoes on, for heaven’s sake…”

He laughed it off with Hongjoong as they walked back into the street, but behind closed doors, he knew what it was. Between the way he ate that oyster soup like it was his last meal, how easily disquieted he was, and his aversion to being touched without warning, Hongjoong was struggling to turn off his survival instincts. If it was as bad as Mingi thought, he might not be able to return to society. Not in any meaningful way.

For a while longer, they wandered the stalls and Mingi tried not to let it bother him. It was one of those days where the sun transitioned between blazing hot and being hidden behind the moving clouds, and a headache was growing behind his eyes as a result.

“What do you think of this one?” Hongjoong had to ask twice when Mingi couldn’t keep his eyes open and pay attention.

He was standing in between two anchors of different sizes and materials and Mingi couldn’t help but snort as he imagined Hongjoong trying to figure out how to move them down to the waterfront.

“An anchor? Why would you need an anchor?”

He was becoming irritable and Hongjoong knew it.

“You head back, I’ll look around for some other things to buy for the ATEEZ,” Hongjoong finally suggested instead of explaining himself.

“ATEEZ?” Mingi mumbled, putting up a hand to shade his eyes as the sun came out again.

“That’s what I’ve decided to call her,” came the response and Mingi gave an approving nod, dropped his money bag into Hongjoong’s hands, and trudged home to get in a nap.

Mother was there mending some clothes in the sitting room and Mingi provided her with a short explanation before escaping to his bed and evading all the following questions.

Sleep came over him gradually and wasn’t the most peaceful, not with the worry that Hongjoong was alone in the market gnawing at the back of his mind. He might get into a fight or steal something from a shop owner for all he knew, and as host Mingi would feel responsible for whatever harm might come to the stranger.

Perhaps he was treating Hongjoong too much like a child.

Thankfully, Mingi woke to the smell of dinner wafting through the house and the sight of his mother and guest sitting and eating peacefully. Hongjoong had brought back a canola flower bunch to decorate the table and upon seeing it, Mingi remembered the way he gave Dahye flowers once and became overly excited. It was as if the old Hongjoong was back.

The feeling didn’t last as supper went on when conversation fizzled out and Hongjoong, already finished with his meagre fish, would stare at nothing, reliving a horror he didn’t share.

He did an excellent job of hiding his fragile state when a dark memory overtook him, but Mingi was better at seeing it than Hongjoong was at pretending.

Mingi had noticed it before in the old sailors who fought in wars once. Hongjoong carried a type of pain with him that never faded, it only changed form.

“What do you intend to do with the ATEEZ?” Mingi asked to break the silence when the two of them sat outside under the stars, watching Mingi’s mother head to town for work.

“I’m not sure where I’ll go yet, but I want to sail,” Hongjoong answered, fiddling with his hands. “I have a feeling Eden is still out there…”

He trailed off quietly and neither of them spoke for a long time. If there was something he wanted to add, he was having trouble expressing it, so Mingi let the silence stretch on and considered whether Eden could be alive.

Hongjoong had survived, and Eden was much more experienced a pirate to begin with which certainly put it in the realm of possibilities.

But to hunt him down and join him would make Hongjoong a true pirate as well, and Mingi knew if he went down that road it would mean being pursued by enemies across the ocean for the rest of his days.

Not the quiet seaside life they’d envisioned earlier.

When the moon came out, the pair retired to bed. Questions of the future could wait at least a day longer, and the exhaustion of their outing had finally caught up with them.

Mingi should have anticipated the night terrors.

Muttering from the other bed awoke him sometime in the night and at first he ignored it, rolling over and pressing a pillow over his ears, but the sound of Hongjoong suddenly yelling had him sit up and rub the sleep out of his eyes.

Now he was breathing heavily and his thrashing grew in force until Mingi was genuinely worried and decided to wake him up.

“It’s just a dream, hyung, open your—”

Before he could finish, Hongjoong’s eyes flashed open and a hand shot out to switch their positions, choking Mingi fiercely before he realised who he was.

When had he gotten so strong?

“It’s me,” Mingi tried to say, mouth working with only a breathless grunt coming out of his sore throat, but it seemed to do the trick.

Hongjoong released him with a gasp and slowly moved away, shrinking into a ball and struggling to regain control of himself while Mingi recovered his breath.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, as if being quiet now could atone for the violent episode he’d just had.

Mingi expected him to be crying, releasing that tumultuous emotion somehow, but he simply stared at nothing again, knuckles white as he curled his fingers tightly in the blanket and waited for a reply.

No, I’m terrified, Mingi wanted to say. I could’ve died just now, you could have killed me…

“Just startled is all, it wasn’t your fault.” The rasp in his voice made him pause to swallow carefully. “Are… are you?”

“We don’t… keep secrets from each other,” he answered so quietly that Mingi could barely hear, but he knew what Hongjoong was admitting.

He wasn’t alright. He wouldn’t be for a long time, maybe not ever.

This wasn’t the same Hongjoong who left Mingi alone in the cold, weather-beaten town that had turned against the both of them. This was someone else, someone who was part wild beast himself now.

Mingi didn’t know how to help him, and it made him feel useless.

“You’re soaked,” he mentioned absently as he laid a careful hand on his shoulder and noticed the shirt he wore was doused in sweat. “Let’s get this off…”

He should have known what a mistake that was before pulling the cloth off for him and being greeted with a frightening collection of jagged scars running down Hongjoong’s back, but instead he opened his mouth to ask, stunned, “What happened?”

Mingi hadn’t noticed the marks during the bath, probably because of the way his guest had been pressed against the tub, hiding it from him.

Hongjoong scooted as far away as possible with the speed of a cornered animal and pulled the blankets up to his chin. “Please,” he insisted through his teeth, and he didn’t need to finish the sentence. Mingi knew what he was asking.

Don’t make me lie to you.

He looked like he’d nearly been clawed to death by something, but apparently it wasn’t worth telling Mingi, who may not have experienced anything remotely similar but was doing everything in his power to aid his recovery from it.

He couldn’t help the annoyance from seeping into his voice. “I’m just trying to help—”

“You should go back to bed,” Hongjoong cut him off, voice hoarse and eyes shining with something akin to regret. “You need to sleep.”

Instead Mingi tossed the shirt to the floor and marched outside, upset.

He knew it was his frustration at more than Hongjoong coming through, but despite his friend’s return, life still felt unfair.

He was alive, but in a strange state of limbo, where for long periods of time he might as well not be. He was with Mingi but deep down wanted to go somewhere else, wherever Eden was.

Mingi swallowed his tears before they presented themselves and tried to formulate a plan.

Hongjoong’s suffering wasn’t his alone. It might take time but if he could let Mingi in, they’d both be better equipped to handle it.

Mingi just needed to be patient.

He started by going back inside and crawling into bed. Hongjoong was either asleep or pretending to be, facing the opposite wall to avoid another confrontation.

The two didn’t argue until the following morning, when Mingi found his guest outside again, watching the ATEEZ bob up and down on the water below.

“Why do you expect me to be the same as I was before I left?” Hongjoong asked tiredly without looking at him. Mingi wasn’t sure how he even knew he had approached. “Haven’t you noticed that you changed as well?”

Mingi furrowed his brows and tried to understand. “Me? What on earth are you referring to?”

Hongjoong faced him with his jaw set and a cold look in his eyes. “You’re always trailing behind like you can’t let me out of your sight. I told you before, I’m not a child… or a mangy dog for that matter.”

Mingi bristled but kept his clenched fist by his side.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t be as aloof and insensitive as your pirate friends,” he scoffed bitterly, and regretted it as soon as it left his mouth.

Hongjoong got to his feet slowly and let his eyes rake over the little cottage he’d loved so dearly once.

“I think it’s best that I stay somewhere else.”

There was no emotion in his voice and it terrified Mingi.

“No, please, hyung! Don’t do this to me, don’t leave me again. I’ll do anything—”

Hongjoong sighed and raised a hand to stop him from going on. There was concern in his eyes that didn’t reach his voice as he explained, “Mingi, I could have killed you last night. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Mingi was partially relieved this suggestion had nothing to do with his sarcastic comment, but still got to his feet and blocked Hongjoong’s route to the sea.

“What does it matter if you do? I deserve it!”

“Don’t say that,” Hongjoong snapped immediately. “You didn’t do this. I know you want to help but—”

“Nothing can be done?” Mingi finished for him. “Are you completely certain of that fact? Let me at least try. Give me another chance, hyung, I’m begging you.”

Hongjoong pursed his lips and glanced away. For a moment he said nothing and simply let the wind ruffle his hair, deciding whether to part on such terms or relent and let Mingi redeem himself.

“I’ll make you a deal— and you know I’m not the gambling type,” Mingi broke the silence breathlessly, for once in his life taking the first step himself. “Work on your ship all you want, but do it here. I won’t interfere, and if you ultimately decide to leave on it, I won’t stop you. But please just try for me. Wear your boots and join society if you can. Promise you’ll do your best… because I can’t bear the thought of being separated from you again.”

Hongjoong’s eyes swam before meeting his and he let out a wet chuckle before scratching the back of his head. “You really want me here?”

“We won’t even make you help with the fishing,” Mingi promised with a growing smile. He knew he’d managed to convince him by the way Hongjoong let out that little amused snort and offered his hand to be shaken.

“Alright,” he sighed, resigned, before setting his eyes on the town. “I have other means of earning my keep.”

Mingi overlooked the dark undertone of that statement, relieved he’d managed to win back Hongjoong’s company.

“I’ll return for supper,” Hongjoong bade him farewell as he slung a bag over his shoulder. “The ATEEZ needs some work.”

He had his word, and that held good for Mingi. His heart was lighter as he returned to the kitchen and looked around for something to cook breakfast with.

Not fish this time, Hongjoong was probably sick of them.

Mingi looked out the window that pointed toward the road inland, with still no sign of Father. When he returned with his eels, it was likely he would try to enlist Hongjoong’s help in finding the elusive catches, and that would be a breach of the verbal contract Mingi had just made.

But even then, no fish for breakfast. If it was the only food available on a remote tropical island, Mingi could do better.

There weren’t many new fish in Panhang in the first place.

...

A/N: With only a few chapters left, we’ve reached a turning point both in the story and Mingi’s character! Let me know if you managed to connect past and present by leaving a comment, and have a great week <3

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[alfredosauce50]

Who’s the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader) 17

Wordcount: 3,330 The reader is referred to as she/her

Following the introduction of the items for auction, people settled down to be served lunch. Guests and staff present at the event called this lunch, but to the uninvited few, it was dubbed the first phase of their plan. The moment the drawn curtains were closed again, the woman on stage strut past the many treasures to the presenter who just joined her on the elevated platform hidden by waterfalls of fabric. From the surface, she was either an unfortunate girl taken against her will for her body to be exploited or a brain-dead prostitute desperate for quick dough. That was what the presenter thought at least when he laid eyes on her cleavage. And for judging a book by its cover and perhaps staring at her breasts, he grew too distracted to even notice the woman throw her arm back. He only glanced up when he caught a fast blur of movement in his peripherals, but before his brain even came to acknowledge the little pickle he caught himself in, a fist collided with his temple to knock him out cold. Letting out a grunt, black engulfed his vision and he felt pain explode in his head similar to being bludgeoned, but luckily for him, he only felt it for a second. He fell onto the ground in a heavy thump, and when he did, the woman ground her heel in his back. 

She glowered down at the motionless body and continued to dig into his skin with her shoe. "That's what you get for staring!" The man in the tuxedo stood in the grand hall and continued to dart his eyes all around the curtains as if he could see what was behind them. The fabric was still flowing around after being closed, but he was not focusing on its movement. Instead, he had his interest piqued on the bottoms of a pair of heels click-clacking around the stage. If you narrowed your eyes to squint at where the pair of feet were, you would be able to see the dark gray fabric of somebody's jacket meet the ground. "Best in her field, you say?" He breathed into his earpiece with wide eyes. The jacket was then dragged away off stage. "Can't argue with that." "Yep! She always gets the job done." Flavio piped in his ear. "You don't need to worry about the staff working backstage, Happy. She's got it under cover." Said man nodded. "Yeah, I think she does." A deafening crackling sound was heard and he cringed at that. That signaled the entrance of another one of their confidants, so he prepared himself to hear what they had to say. "She's doing her bit, Happy. Now you go do yours!" A gruff voice hissed at him. A bead of sweat formed around his temple at the reminder and he glanced around frantically. That was right. He was so distracted by Elizabeta's skills he let his purpose fly right past his head. "Right, right. Gotcha. I'm going to the kitchen now." The man responded, beginning his trip to the location as mentioned. As he power-walked through the long, winding halls, that same confidant added something else. "Lunch has already begun so the butlers are gonna come out any second! You better get those stubby legs of yours pumping!" "Hey! No need to call me names!" He complained, his volume lowering into a whisper towards the end of his statement. Nearly walking past the very destination he needed to get to, he took a few steps back before peering inside. On the receiving end, a maroon-haired figure kept his muscles tense as he listened in on what the pathetic security guard needed to say. Even with this minor inconvenience that posed little influence to the outcome of their plan, his heart was hammering without signs of slowing down. As he felt the little thumps reach the very tips of his fingers, his breathing grew shallow. "Don't make me go in there, Happy!" He growled. Even with his tanned complexion, blood was draining from his face to render him extremely pale thanks to the drop in oxygen flowing through his veins. Never had he remembered being this anxious before. Nothing but worry plagued his mind like a dark cloud. If this plan were to fail, his will to go on would disappear along with you. So this plan can't fail. He was going to make sure of it. Even so, he could not get rid of these thoughts and continued to breathe quickly, unevenly. If it were not for the hand slapping onto his shoulder to snap him out of a potential panic attack, he would have passed out. Glancing up with round eyes swirling with pure fear, he found himself staring at the softened expression of his partner. "Allen. It's going to be alright. Everything's going smoothly. Just take a deep breath and calm down." He spoke gently. It did not look like it at the moment, but he was shocked and perhaps even awestruck at the emotion the other was expressing. Allen always gave him the impression that he was not to be messed with and had nothing to lose. He was fearless. He even kept his head up high in the presence of the police despite being a wanted criminal. But here he was, shaking in his chair with glassy eyes. Whoever you were, it was clear as day you were the world to him. The blonde let out a small sigh as the other just crumbled in front of him. Allen just buried his face in his hands in silence. "Trust us. We've got eyes and ears everywhere and the most professional agents in the state working with us. We won't let you down." Regardless, Allen could not calm the thundering in his chest. Sure, the police lent a helping hand, but that did not mean it was a guarantee for success. What more was that Allen was let down by them a few too many times to trust them, and he never liked them to begin with. A memory suddenly struck him like a spear. And it just so happened to be the voice of his cousin, screaming at him after he told him to stay out of business he did not want him involved with. "What the hell? I’m not just going to ‘lay off’! (F/N)’s my friend and she needs a hero! The police are far more qualified than you, and they’re going to actually find the fugitive. That way, they’ll bring justice and get the bad guy!" It was not just a reminder why Allen hated this side of him. He was blinded with his love for justice and superheroes. And they were both beautiful lies in his opinion. Allen did not dwell long on this thought, however. It was what Alfred commented about qualifications that struck a chord in him. The police were not qualified for this at all, relatively speaking. Even with their skills, it was nothing compared to knowledge and experience. Flavio was more qualified despite never having harmed anybody before. Hell, even Happy was! He was the strongest player on the team. So why was he just sitting outside, when he could be helping his friends inside? He needed to go inside. The fear slowly thawed from his heart and was melted by a burning determination to intervene. The pounding he felt in his chest slowed a little, but it continued to thump violently against his ribs. Clenching his hands into tight fists, his knuckles turned white and the officer sitting with him held onto his arm. "Don't." Allen pulled his arm from his grasp and stood up, letting his chair scrape loudly against the ground. Throwing on his bomber jacket, he loomed over the other with a weak grin. Arthur was wondering where the Allen he met went; turns out he had always been here. "I don't think you and your department's got what it takes to take a guy like Luciano down. Nothing personal." He finally said. "I'm going in. If you want this plan to succeed, you'd let me." Turning on his heel to burst into a sprint towards the building's entrance, a few of the patrons of the eatery stood up with tense expressions. Before they could chase after the retreating figure, the blonde held up an arm to stop them. "And I don't give a damn if you don't wipe my record clean!" His earpiece crackled as he entered the lobby. "I'm going in the kitchen now. I'm commencing with the plan." Steering clear of the places with surveillance, he grabbed an unfortunate passerby and knocked him out. Once he stripped him of his formal wear he did not have, he changed into them and kept him in one of the storage rooms. Allen then pressed the little device in his ear to respond. "Change of plans. I'll be helping Liza's team. Alfred and Flavio, keep updating me on the situation. Happy, you go give that motherfucker a taste of his own medicine." "And I'm sure he's gonna love it." The said man responded. Once he appeared in the doorframe of the kitchen, he felt a flinch when he was greeted with an explosion of stimulants for his senses. So much to smell, see and hear. The clanging of pots and pans, the sizzling of food in hot oil, the frantic shouting of instructions and squeaking of food trolleys were heard. It was pure chaos. Happy refused to let himself become distracted again, so he put on a brave face and navigated his way through the suffocating room. He approached the man who had been screaming at the chefs and cleared his throat. "Hey. I'm serving Luciano's table for today and I need to know what drink he ordered." Happy started, grabbing his attention at the mention of the name. "A bottle of Smirnoff." He responded without hesitation. "Give it to him with the lid on." "Thanks." Turning on his heel, a small shrewd smile curled at his lips and he collected a bottle of the specified drink. He removed the lid with a pop, disregarding the instructions he was given and dropped a small pill in it. He did this all with a poker face, but inside, he was screaming. Although he lived a very eventful life as a bodyguard, he had never done something like this-- drugging someone. And with a roofie, in other words, a date rape drug. As the little white tablet began to fizz up the drink, he hid it there on the counter with his body for a few moments, intending to wait for the white froth to disappear. "Oh god, I can't believe I'm actually doing this..." "You better believe it. Everyone's getting their drinks, hurry up and get out there before he gets suspicious!" Flavio suddenly hissed, making Happy's heart skip a beat. He grabbed the bottle while it was still fizzing and left in a hurry. As he made his way through the halls, the froth slowly disappeared, but not entirely. Once he made it to the table in the center of the grand hall, he wiped the sweat from his forehead he did not know had been there and placed the drink in front of the man with a cigarette in his mouth. "Your vodka, sir." The moment you sensed the presence of someone behind Luciano, you darted your eyes to the butler and felt your heart rate calm. Like he knew you were staring at him for relief, he returned the eye contact and his lips twitched up just the slightest. You then diverted your attention to the bottle filled with clear liquid, noticing that there were still a few bubbles simmering up around the top. "Grazie." You heard the man mutter. Happy took that as a green light to leave, and so he did, walking away with a triumphant smile. Once he disappeared out of sight, the Italian man picked up the bottle and inspected it in his hand. Only then did the bubbles completely disappear. "There is a good reason why I always order water when I'm outdoors." He started, taking another puff of his cigarette. "Or at least, clear beverages." Even when the burning stench of smoke entered your nose to fill your lungs, you turned your head to him with your lips ajar. You tasted a sour little flavor in your mouth and your stomach churned. As he crushed the end of his cigarette in the ashtray into little specks of black and white, he rolled his magenta hued irises over to you. Those eyes of his were glowing in your perspective as he stared you down like they belonged to that of a nocturnal predator. "It's easier to tell if it's been tampered with." He continued with a devilish grin. The patronizing expression along with the words that left his mouth rendered you speechless. You were frozen to your seat, taken aback by how clever this man was. It was no wonder he was the face of the underground crime industry. Only he did people wrong, not the other way around. From then on, you felt the icy cold hands of fear clench around your heart again. Luciano was the very man who challenged Allen's status as the top dog, so it was not going to be easy to weasel you away from him. If you wanted to escape his grasp, you would need to communicate with your friends who were there with you, but the question as to how to do say lingered in your mind. Ripping your gaze away from his burning one, you let the bottle become the center of your attention. "What do you mean by that?" You asked in a feeble voice. "Have you ever been poisoned before?" He chuckled, the death in those eyes finally dissolving away. "Of course not. I can't let people beat me in my own game, can I?" Luciano picked up the bottle and poured some of it into his empty glass until it was half full with the clear liquid. "And whenever I doubt the safety of something I'm served, I always give it to someone else first." Making his way over to the table next to yours, he approached a female guest and kissed her hand. Their conversation was not very long before she accepted his offer, inferring that it did not take long for the woman to fall for his unparalleled charm. He returned with a small smile. Once he was comfortable in his seat again, he watched the woman take a sip of the drink she was given. "The effects will kick in soon. And she'll be down in thirty minutes." You took a mental note of that number. "What happens if she collapses then?" Luciano shrugged. "Then she collapses. But not for no reason. It just means that there was something in her drink." "But... How did you know? How did you know that someone tried to drug you?" He laughed, but in the most attractive way. "I don't know if you're playing dumb, but whatever it is you are doing, it won't work. Isn't it obvious, ragazza? Vodka doesn't fizz." The technical crew went down like flies. Regardless of who they worked under, it was only inanimate objects like wires and machinery they encountered problems with, not people. They did not put up much of a fight, but it was the security she broke a sweat for. Luciano's staff were skilled, very skilled, but they were not skilled enough. It may have taken some time, but it was not difficult to incapacitate them. And once the team of ten were all unconscious including the two buff men in shades, they were removed accordingly and transported outside quietly by a few members of the cleanup crew. They too were wearing formalwear thanks to Flavio's wardrobe. While this was happening, Flavio and Alfred scouted the vicinity and located Luciano's security floating about the place, giving her a map of the exact positions of her opponents. However, by the time she made it to their locations, not a single soul matching the physical descriptions she was given was present. Twirling a handgun with a hand, she scanned her surroundings with an inquisitive look. In save for the few employees occupying the halls and reception, there was no sign of any of Luciano's underlings. She pressed her earpiece with furrowed brows. "Uh, guys. I don't see them in the lobby. Don't tell me they left to someplace else." Heavy breathing was heard echoing loudly from two places, her ear and right in front of her. When she glanced up to the source of the sound, she blinked furiously upon immediately recognizing the male. Those vengeful blood-red eyes and dark maroon hair could not be missed. "They didn't leave. I just took them out." He responded in between breaths. The woman took long strides towards him, and before another word left her lips, she looked over her shoulder. She then faced him with narrowed eyes. "All of them? And where are they now?" She whisper-shouted. Allen laughed lightly and brushed past her to walk back to the grand hall. "Loosen up, lady. While you were making out with the tech geeks backstage I took care of his security and every single one of his cronies." Usually, she would have shot right back, but she was too impressed to do even that. "Are you serious? That fast?" She exclaimed, trailing after his form that continued to advance towards the tall double doors. "You didn't shoot them, did you?" Although that would have been the quickest way to get the job done, it was the least efficient. Firing a bullet was an explosion of noise and would ricochet off every wall in the building. Every single soul in the hotel would know the second the victim collapsed, and if they happened to miss such an obvious sign, they would eventually come across a pool of blood if it was uncleaned. Surely he wasn't this stupid. "You would've heard me." He murmured, not even bothering to spare her a glance. "But you didn't." Allen never slowed as he stormed towards the only thing separating him from you. The brunette walking with him did not stop firing him questions, including why he was even there when he wasn't supposed to be, but he left them unanswered-- all except this one. "Who are you?" She knew his name, but it wasn't his credentials she was after. The arm he had outstretched to reach for the glistening door handle stopped for a moment. What was his story? He grabbed the handle firmly, feeling the cold touch of the metal meet his palm and fingers. Allen couldn't anticipate what was waiting for him in the grand ballroom. He did not even know anybody's position. Where you were. Where he was. Luciano could even be waiting right behind the door for him with a knife laced with a potent poison. It all dawned on him when he touched the handle like a last-minute warning from an omnipotent force watching over him, but there was no time for safety. The slippery son of a gun would be gone before they were given the next set of instructions. So here he was, about to enter a scene bound to unfold into pure chaos. That was exactly what he was born in, so he did not mind taking a visit to his hometown. "I'm just a street rat who doesn't have a lot to lose-" He answered, reaching into his jacket. Everything that had happened in the past few years all lead down to this single moment, including all his mistakes he ever made that caused others to suffer. But he was going to make things right. "-but everything I know and love and everything that makes my life worth living is behind this door."