Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time
G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists
"How old are you?"
"20."
Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.
"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"
You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.
It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.
"I'm 20." He deadpans.
Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."
Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.
And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.
"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-
To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty.
He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.
Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.
"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."
"Oh yeah?"
"Oh yes."
And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.
"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-
There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."
.
.
Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.
You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.
He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.
Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.
Which unfortunately has not happened yet.
With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.
You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.
Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.
You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.
It's impressive how studious he is.
In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.
Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.
You type out a direct message to the only person you know.
You: I missed that, what did she just say?
Gun: You should have been paying attention.
You: Fuck you man!
You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.
He smirks.
That night he kicks your ass again.
Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.
.
.
If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.
You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.
Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-
Hold on.
You double, triple-take-
Is that?
It must be.
Shit.
It's fucking Gun Park.
You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-
He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.
"Y/N."
"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.
He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.
The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.
Fuck.
Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.
It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.
After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.
.
.
The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.
It’s utterly charming.
Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.
Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-
Wait. You squint at the picture.
Is this guy for real?
"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.
He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.
Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."
He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.
"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.
Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.
.
.
Even without a seating plan, one forms.
Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.
You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.
No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.
Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.
.
.
Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.
What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.
If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.
Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.
He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.
Alright then.
Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.
He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.
You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.
"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.
"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."
He arches a brow at your words.
"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."
There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.
.
.
Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.
You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.
A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.
He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.
"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.
.
.
Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.
He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.
Of course it would be from there.
The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!
"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.
Of course he would also be a coffee snob.
You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.
You think that's an insult.
"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.
Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.
.
.
You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?
You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad
Gun: None of your business
You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then
Gun: They are not-
Gun: Whatever
.
.
You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible
Gun: I know
You: Who’s Goo anyway?
Gun: …
Gun: No-one
You: Suuuure
.
.
You: Tekken tonight?
Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?
You: >:(
.
.
You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?
Gun: Ok
.
.
Gun: Thanks for your help
You: :)
.
.
Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.
You: Spoken like a coward!
Gun: Dumbass
You: Hey!!
.
.
Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.
You: Does it have to be an espresso?
Gun: Yes
You: …Thanks
.
.
To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.
It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.
What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.
However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.
Strange, very strange.
You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.
"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.
"... Everything ok?"
It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.
He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.
In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.
At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.
"Are you interested in Tekken?"
"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?
"Then meet me. After class."
"Where? Here?"
"No. At mine."
"Where's that?"
"..."
He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.
Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.
You nod along, thinking what is with this guy.
.
.
So firstly, what the fuck.
Then secondly, what the fuck.
Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.
You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.
You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated.
Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?
Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?
"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.
"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.
He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.
.
.
"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.
Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.
It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.
Apart from that, it's barely a home.
"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.
"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.
'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.
"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.
He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers.
“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.
Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.
Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more.
He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.
Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.
If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.
You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.
You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring.
Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.
.
.
"Holy shit, I won!"
You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.
Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.
You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.
What you do find is-
Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.
Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.
And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-
(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.
It sinks in.
The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.
From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)
Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.
"Yes. The best."
You think it's a lie, an embellishment.
But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.
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𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦
pairing: lee jihoon x female!reader
genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural
members: choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, hong jisoo
warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical innacuarcies for the sake of plot progression
word count: 16.6k
summary: riding the highs and lows coming from the crown ordered raids and sieges, the hwarang find themselves in deeper trouble when mysterious figures begin emerging and demanding something strange- you.
taglist: @hipsdofangirl
𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦
𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 6𝔱𝔥, 662 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞
The new year sweeps in not unexpectedly, but with a gust of cold that chills you to your core. Seorabeol sits under a blanket of snow, much like it had when you first arrived a little over a year ago now.
You finish eating breakfast with the captains a little earlier than they do, you excuse yourself to make them some tea before their morning briefing. Thankfully, the halls remain warm, so you don’t need to worry about the winter chill as you make your way back to the main hall, the smattering of captains sitting around.
“Thank you,” Eunseok says as you set down a cup for him, a smile on his lips as he wraps his cold fingers around the steaming cup. You make your way around the hall to give the captains their drinks, most giving you a curt but appreciative nod as you do so.
“The monks at this temple have been nice enough to let us stay here this long,” Jihoon calls out, disrupting your thoughts as he speaks to the captains, “but Shoshin is getting crowded.”
“Especially with all of the new guys coming in,” Mingyu agrees, nodding his head.
“If we could get a bigger space, that’d be good,” Junhui adds, a tinge to his voice as if he’s thinking about how little room there is to move around these days. “Even in the overflow buildings it’s stuffy.”
“Most of these kids are nobles too, not accustomed to living like this,” Mingyu sighs, not vouching for them, just knowing it would take some time to acquaint themselves with their newfound home.
“If we can find somewhere bigger to host us,” Seungkwan says, “I’m sure the newbies would be more appreciative.”
“What about Bulguksa Temple?” The man sitting next to Youngmin speaks up, glancing over to the map hanging in the front of the room.
“Bulguksa?” Suh Kangjoon frowns, looking towards the map, “Isn’t that a bit far?”
“Maybe,” the man shrugs, “But it’s one of the only places big enough to accommodate the Seorabeol Hwarang. And its position would allow a tactical advantage in times of panic, it’s a relatively easy place to fortify.”
After he’s done speaking, the man leans back in his chair to see what the others have to say. Kim Gongmyung had joined the Hwarang on Soonyoung’s excursion to Hanseong in early autumn of last year. His family’s school is quite popular there and his academics gained him notoriety with the nobles of the area. “Besides, it’s closer to the border so if there’s a need to intercept or fend off any Baekje loyalists looking for trouble, it’d put us in the best spot to do so.”
“Those are good points,” Youngmin nods enthusiastically, “An exceptional amount of detail as always, Gongmyung.”
Even if the chief thought it to be a good idea, a few voices rose in opposition.
“Isn’t it a bit… presumptive to do something like that?” Seungcheol frowns at Gongmyung, his hands atop the table, fingers tapping along the wooden grains.
Gongmyung’s smile flickers as he turns to the colonel, “Then would it be better to be negligent of the possibility, the high possibility, that the loyalists are up to something again?” His question leaves little room for the colonel to answer before he begins speaking again, “It’s a lovely thought, thinking that we’re safe now, but we all know it’s not true.” His deflection of Seungcheol’s statement leaves a bitter taste in everyone’s mouths.
“I agree that the loyalists need to be stopped, but to place our personal interest there instead of being directed to do so by the Crown or the council is…” Seungcheol trails off, clearly thinking more inwardly than he was expressing outwardly.
“So, then, what should we do?” Another voice piques up, questioning Seungcheol. “Wait until the bastards are knocking at our door to actually do something about it? Or maybe wait until they’ve actually captured Munmu and have burned the palace to the gro-”
“Dongyoung,” Gongmyung interjects, “Watch your mouth.”
“My mistake,” Dongyoung scoffs after a moment of staring at his brother for interrupting him, “Couldn’t stop myself.”
Kim Dongyoung is the younger brother of Kim Gongmyung by blood, and only by the same father. Dongyoung had joined the Hwarang with Gongmyung in autumn and had accompanied him to Seorabeol.
“He has the tendency to run his mouth like a child still,” Gongmyung explains, “I apologize.” His attention then turns back to Seungcheol and away from his brother, “So, don’t take it too personally, please. I’m sure someone like you is needed to make the Hwarang successful. Even if your arm is unusable in a fight, your smarts and tactical abilities will prove all the more useful.”
You see Seungcheol biting back a retort towards Gongmyung’s sour wording, the tension between the two only cut by another voice.
“I don’t think I heard you correctly, Gongmyung.” It’s Jihoon, his voice low as if he’s trying to stabilize the tone so as to not sound angry. “Seungcheol is smart, as you said. He is not useless and not replaceable, make sure you don’t forget that.” The commander only speaks when there’s something important to be said, having spoken up now means that Gongmyung’s words must’ve gotten to him.
“My arm, though…” Seungcheol mutters out, seemingly unable to finish the thought. Jihoon’s words remind him of what he once was, causing him to frown at the reality of it all.
“I didn’t mean to cause such a disturbance,” Gongmyung sighs out with false sympathy, “I’ll be sure to keep my thoughts to myself next time. Seungcheol is quite a beloved member, I see, it’s nice to see such a tight knit group. I can only hope the new members share that sentiment.”
Jihoon’s eyes seethe with anger as he glares at Gongmyung, but before he’s able to snip back, Youngmin steps in and tries to calm the air.
“For now,” He begins, looking at each member of the opposing parties, “Let’s just keep matters on finding a new headquarter location. Gongmyung, would you mind coming with me? I’d love to continue our earlier conversation.”
“Of course, Chief.” Gongmyung says and rises to his feet at the same time Youngmin does, the two begin to leave the room, quickly followed out by Kangjoon.
“May I join you as well?” The latter asks before the two step out of the hall.
“Of course,” Youngmin accepts, “I’d like you to hear what Gongmyung has to say, it may help you with strategy points.”
“Thank you,” Kangjoon says with an appreciative smile as the three exit, shortly followed by Dongyoung who scoffs at the encounter before slinking out after them.
“Who’s the asshole that invited them to join us?” Seungkwan frowns once the sound of their footsteps falls out of earshot.
“That asshole’s still in Hanseong,” Junhui huffs, “When Soonyoung gets back I might just wring his neck.”
“The Kim’s father is friends with a few pro-military councilmen,” Mingyu muses, “Interesting to see that they’d join us if they share those same beliefs.”
“They’re probably playing some sort of superiority game,” Jihoon says, his arms crossing over his chest. “Just listen to the bullshit that Dongyoung spouts off, and it looks like it’s rubbing off on Youngmin. And that’s definitely not good.”
“Youngmin’s always been like that,” Seungkwan adds, “Easily deceived by those who act nice and appear virtuous but are just vipers waiting for the right time to strike.”
“And Gongmyung’s the deputy commander with Dongyoung in a captain’s position,” Mingyu shakes his head, “They’ve rooted themselves deep.”
Jihoon’s gaze travels to Seungcheol, who’s been staring at the patterns in the wood since his conversation with Gongmyung. “Don’t listen to him,” the commander says to him in hopes of cheering him up.
“Gongmyung is a skilled orator with a proficient education to back it,” Seungcheol laughs dryly, “And not only that, but he’s also skilled with a sword and bow. With a gifted Deputy Commander, the Hwarang have little need for a colonel now.”
“Seungcheol-” Jihoon begins to protest as the colonel rises to his feet and starts to head for the exit. The commander’s voice trails after Seungcheol as he leaves quietly, no one daring to stop him.
“Of all people…” Mingyu sighs out, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair, “Even the wang-do are avoiding him now.”
“Why?” You question and turn to the captain, “It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.”
“It’s his attitude,” Junhui responds in the elder’s stead, “It doesn't matter what you say to him, he takes it the wrong way regardless.”
“Not to mention the smartass tone he’s been taking up,” a twisted frown settles onto Mingyu’s face, “it’s no wonder the men are scared shitless of him.”
Their words confuse you, even though you haven’t been here as long as the other captains, Seungcheol was well liked among everyone in the Hwarang. After he’d received his injury, it seems as if that demeanor has taken a turn for the worse.
“Can’t you come up with an excuse to get Gongmyung the hell out of here?” Seungkwan asks, turning towards Jihoon. “There’s barely been a moment of civility since he got here.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Jihoon’s expression turns sour, “Youngmin’s all over the guy. Besides, he brought in a bunch of warriors from Hanseong, their allegiance doesn’t solely lie with us yet. They’ll pack up and leave the second we tell him to get lost.”
“Fuck him though!” Seungkwan does little to quell the irateness of his voice, “You’re the goddamn demon commander, make the impossible happen!”
Jihoon barks out a snarkish laugh, “Fine, Boo. How about I make you commander so you can kick Gongmyung and his thugs out?”
“Hell no,” Seungkwan snickers, “That’s too much work.”
It eventually comes to fruition that Gongmyung isn’t to be trusted, having no other captains speak out on his behalf.
You’re going around once more to distribute tea to the men when you stop by Hansol, who’d been quiet for most of, if not all, of the prior conversation. He looks up at you, as if he had felt your thoughts wander over to him.
“What are your thoughts on Gongmyung joining?” You ask as he sets down his teacup onto the tabletop.
Hansol sighs as you begin topping off the cup, “As any group begins to grow in numbers, it’ll have more and more people with differing opinions.” You pull the pot away from his cup, staunching the flow of the liquid, “Although, if one intends to be the catalyst for change instead of it occurring naturally, the group will begin to kill itself from the inside out.” His words hang heavy as you stand next to him, unsure of what to say next.
Gongmyung’s acceptance into the Hwarang, from your perspective, wasn’t to tear them apart, but maybe to cause dissension among the members. You’re not fond of him, but his treatment towards Seungcheol and the colonel’s receptiveness to the critiques is what worries you the most. It’s not as if his arm would work again overnight, it would take a miracle to happen, and Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the type to frequent shamans.
Sometime later you find yourself wandering back to your room, the meeting dissipating with little to be done with the newest arrivals. Although cold outside, the setting sun gives off little warmth as you trapeze yourself through one of the gardens. The reddish-maroon of the sinking star unsettling you.
You still have Seungcheol in mind as you pause for a moment, staring up at the shifting hues of the heavens. A conversation you’d heard in the news of Seungcheol’s injury had spurred the conversation of the Furies as well as a serum. By the way they’d spoken of it, it made it seem as if the item was only used in dire circumstances, and it was highly secretive. You weren’t even supposed to know about it in the first place, but Soonyoung had let slip some information on it and now you can’t help but think about it.
If you were to try and learn of it yourself, it’s no doubt that you’d find yourself in a world of trouble. Yet, you are the daughter of a physician, surely you have more medical knowledge than them?
Falling onto your better judgment, you return to your quarters. Even if you’re worried about Seungcheol, you’re not sure that there’s much you can even do for him at this point.
When the sun finally drops below the horizon, it seems as if Shoshin Temple bursts to life with activity. But the sounds aren’t boisterous, not the gaiety induced ones of the captains rough-housing, these were more ominous. You hear footsteps charge past your room, never seeming to cease as the men run off to an unknown location.
Despite trying your best to keep out of it, your curiosity overtakes you, amalgamating in you slowly creeping out into the hall and following the sound of the commotion. The sounds take you to the main hall, the door left ajar so you quietly make your way inside.
“To think that Seungcheol would’ve…” You can hear Youngmin’s voice, a seriousness in it as he comes into view. Jihoon and the other captains stand around him, each looking to be in a different stage of shock or disbelief.
“What the hell were you all doing?!” Jihoon shouts out towards the other captains, his grief seeming to take shape in the form of unbridled anger, “I told you to watch out for Seungcheol! Was there some fucking part of that that you didn’t understand?”
“You can’t blame us for this,” Junhui retorts defensively, “Who would’ve thought that he’d drink that shit? He was also in charge of that stuff so how were we supposed to know he had it?”
“If he’d hidden it in a vial we wouldn’t have known,” Mingyu adds, glancing from Junhui to Jihoon, “And suppose that it does treat his arm… Everyone who took it went crazy. It didn’t work.”
The serum… is that what the captains are referring to? You don’t have enough context on the situation to understand fully, but has Seungcheol taken whatever it is?
“Seungcheol had been trying to improve it,” Hansol interjects, “He’d hoped his arm would heal before it deteriorated too much… Maybe he felt as if there wasn’t any other way. Regardless of that, when he realized his failure he ignored Seungkwan and tried to kill himself.”
“Kill himself?” You gasp aloud, momentarily forgetting that you aren’t supposed to be here. Slowly, all eyes shift to you, Jihoon’s gaze quickly meeting yours.
“What are you doing here?” He asks and suddenly you’re unable to speak. His gaze holds an iciness that causes your throat to clam up, restricting any words that are trying to form. It’s the same way you felt upon entering Shoshin the first time, a mixture of anxiousness, suspicion and animosity.
“Jihoon,” Youngmin says, his hand moving to rest on the commander’s forearm, “I think it’s time you tell her what’s going on. She is Heo’s daughter, after all.”
Your eyes grow wide at the mention of your father’s name. Why is he being brought up all of a sudden?
“I’m going to make this clear,” the commander stares at Youngmin with a grimace, looking back to you after a moment and sighing out lengthily, “The Hwarang don’t need you. There’s a chance that you’ll help us find Heo, but even without you, we’ll find him one way or another. Do anything strange and we’ll have you killed.” Your limbs feel frozen in place as he speaks, you’re able to stutter out an ‘Okay’ before he continues. “I’m going to tell you what’s happening here, but keep in mind that if you tell anyone else about it other than those that are in this room: it’s your own head.”
“Are you… going to kill me?”
“Not yet, but don’t think that means you’re free to run off.”
“We never told you why your father was here in the first place,” Youngmin steps in, allowing you to break your gaze with Jihoon. “He was developing a… treatment of sorts.”
“Like the one Seungcheol took?” Words forming on your lips, testing out how shocked you sound.
The leader of the Hwarang nods solemnly, breathing in deeply before responding, “We first learned of it when one of the Crown’s men brought it to us. They told us it was obtained through trades with merchants in Tang.”
The curiosity of it all, as dreadful it may be, swirls inside of you. Culminating into something you’re not sure you have the words to describe.
“A foreign drug said to augment a man’s healing and bolster their strength,” Hansol sighs out, “Anyone who drank their fill would, supposedly, be able to fight off a guhin with no issue.” His voice serious, despite having alluded to a mythical beast, “Any of their injuries would heal almost immediately, unless they were decapitated or pierced through the heart.
This all sounds like something your father would’ve told you as a child to fuel your imagination, not something that was feasible now.
“Yet, that power comes at a price. It spirals whoever drinks it into an unreturnable madness, they seek out human blood to satisfy their hunger instead of food or drink.” Hansol continues, looking at you with a wary gaze, Heo took it upon himself to try it out on some of the Hwarang so that an attempt to perfect the serum could be worked on.
“My father?” You’re not sure how surprised you sound, something within you twinges but it’s probably the knowledge somewhere deep inside that you knew your father is connected to all of this. Yet knowing that he was using his skills to try and work on this… serum, makes a pit begin to form in your stomach. “So that night where you all found me...”
“We keep the men who’ve taken it to a temple just outside of Seorabeol, if they were kept here people would’ve become suspicious,” The explanation doesn’t tell you how you’d come to find them, but you can infer that they’d probably escaped. “As long as they don’t get any blood they stay relatively quiet.” With the way Hansol relays the information, it makes it seem as this is just a nonchalant topic for him, and it may have very well been. But to you, it’s alien but helps you put together a few things you’d been wondering since your arrival here.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, a tinge of concern to his voice, “You don’t look great.” He stops himself, scoffing inwardly before continuing, “Of course you’re not, this information would sicken anyone.”
“I think we’ve told her enough,” Jihoon interjects before Mingyu can continue, “We need to think about what to do with Seungcheol.”
“I guess…” Junhui frowns, crossing his arms, “But he was practically dead when Eunseok took him out of here.”
“This was a new draught of that shit, though,” Jihoon sounds as if he’s trying to contain himself, to keep his hopefulness on the floor, “we don’t know if the effects are any different from the last batch. And if it’s supposed to do what it's meant to, then that cut isn’t going to kill him.” His eyes flicker to the leader, “Youngmin, can you watch over him? I know Eunseok’s taking care of him but he’s just a kid and I don’t think that-” A pause as he catches himself fretting, he gives himself a second to straighten up, “Tonight will tell us if he’s meant to live or die, and whether he’ll be sane or not by the end of it.”
“Of course, isn’t Seungkwan with him as well?” Youngmin asks before he turns on his heels and heads towards the door.
“He’s guarding the room,” A curt response from Jihoon before Youngmin nods and exits the main hall, the sound of his footsteps dying down after a moment.
“I want you to keep everyone away from the captain’s wing,” Jihoon looks towards Mingyu, a frown dancing on his lips, “Especially Gongmyung’s men.”
“I know,” Mingyu huffs looking to where Youngmin had exited.
“Junhui, go and check on Hwangnyongsa.”
Another order from Jihoon, Junhui nods wordlessly and begins to head towards the main exit of the headquarters. As he passes, you see a glint of the same hostility he’d held towards you on the night of your first arrival. It’s tense and suspicious of you, an itch of gooseflesh overcoming you as he walks out into the night.
“Hansol, go to the inner courtyard, if the Kim brothers or their men show up, keep them busy,” And before Hansol’s even left the room, Jihoon’s gaze settles on you. “I want you to stay with one of the captains.” His concern stems not for the care of your well-being, that much is evident in his gaze, but more to the fact that tonight isn’t a good night to be wandering around alone.
“I’d stay away from Hwangnyongsa, they get rowdy at night,” Mingyu notes, his teeth biting at his cheek.
You nod, thankful for the suggestion, but even with his warning, you’d be limited in where you could go.
“I think I’ll stay here,” you assert to the remaining men, nodding to yourself that this is probably the safest place you could remain within the compound.
It doesn’t take long for Hansol and Mingyu to take their leave, heading for their respective locations around the headquarters before you’re left alone with the commander.
The main hall feels suffocating, mostly from Jihoon’s quietness and the thoughts of what had transpired here merely an hour beforehand. Your gaze shifts from looking out of the main entrance to the commander, his brow furrowing and eyes looking sullen. It’s easy to see that the events of tonight are eating away at him, his concern for his second-in-command utterly gnawing at his very being. His eyes close and he lets out a quiet sigh before speaking again,
“You might think you know who Seungcheol is, but this… It’s not really who he is. He’s an intelligent man who is more than just a sword. The colonel sees the full picture rather than what lies duly in front of him.” Another sigh as if he’s reminiscing, “His guidance helped me through a lot more than I’d like to credit, but his words were always more commandeering than his blade. In a way he was more powerful than me, without him, the Hwarang would’ve regressed to the likes of the Wonhwa.” A subtle smile curling on his lips, “He was like my big brother.” Hands balling into fists atop the table, there is a sincerity that drips from his words bitterly.
“He must mean a lot to you,” you say softly, your own hands falling into your lap, your back hitting the back of the chair as you lean.
“It sounds a little childlike when you say it aloud,” the absinthian smile still clinging to him. He sits, probably thinking the worst outcome for his longtime friend, reminiscing on their past and contemplating what it may mean for the future. Jihoon’s position leaves him unable to divulge this with most others, yet by sharing them with you, he can hold off on the truth for a while longer.
“The only reason we didn’t get rid of that serum is because we thought we could heal his arm with it somehow… Because I thought we could heal him,” the smile fades away, replaced with a grimace. “I should’ve seen this coming.” His own hands fall away from the tabletop and to his sides, a relent in the tension building in his shoulders, “We need Seungcheol. We can’t lose him.”
An anguish coming over him due to the morality of his friend. It’s hard to watch, and you’re nowhere near close enough to him to offer him substantial comfort or advice.
“It’ll be okay,” quiet words leaving you as you straighten up in your chair, his gaze flickering over to you.
“Do you have anything to back that statement up?”
“Back in Toehwa-hyeon, I saw my father treat a lot of people. Most of them believed that they’d recover, and my dad said it was because they had a strong heart,” you say slowly, trying to space out your words coherently. “Seungcheol never seemed like the type to give up fully, and if we all think that he’ll recover then…”
Jihoon lets out a small laugh with a smile and shakes his head, “The Commander of the Hwarang being cheered up by a physician’s daughter. Who could’ve ever imagined this?” A spark igniting in his eyes, returning to the glowing embers and eventual blaze that he so often carries. “You’re right, though. Seungcheol drank the medicine with the intent of getting better and fixing his arm, we just have to believe that he’ll recover.”
𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 7, 662 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞
The night breaks into dawn long after you've retired to your room. A clattering of noise and the rise of voices rouse you from slumber and pull you back to the main hall. Upon entering, you find that the captains have gathered, each in conversation with one another. This scene isn’t interrupted until Eunseok enters.
“It seems as if the hardest part for him is over,” The youngest nods, a collective ball of tension in the room dissipating instantly.
“How is he?” Mingyu asks, looking to Eunseok.
“Still asleep,” he nods, “he was in and out of consciousness the entire night, but he looks peaceful now.”
“Has he gone crazy like the others?” Junhui’s question is blunt as he blurts it out into the space.
Eunseok shakes his head in the negative, “Not seemingly. But we won’t know until he wakes up. But as for now, he looks as he always has.”
Before another captain is able to ask Eunseok of Seungcheol’s status, the doors open and Gongmyung strides into the room.
“Good morning everyone,” A cheap smile painted on his face, “How are you?”
You can hear Junhui let out a soft, “Fuck,” at the sight of him.
Gongmyung scans the faces of the captains after their muffled hellos, “You all look… gloomy.”
“Isn’t it obvious that it’s because we’ve got to see your beautiful face every morning?” Junhui bites with a snicker.
“What a… cute response,” Gongmyung’s quick to brush away the insult as he turns to the other captains. “Is the reason you all look so down because of what happened last night?”
“Ah, actually,” Youngmin begins, fumbling over his words. His gaze hops from captain to captain, looking for someone to relieve him of trying to offer an excuse to Gongmyung.
“Jae,” Junhui’s elbow finds the older’s side as he whispers, “make something up!”
“You see,” Mingyu says after a moment, he too, stumbling over his words, “Well… Uh, yesterday…”
“Didn’t you say you used to act for the nobles in your village?” Seungkwan scoffs at him quietly, “Be quiet and let someone else do the talking.” You think he’s talking about himself, but instead of speaking up, Seungkwan looks to Hansol, who begins speaking almost immediately.
“As you may have heard, an incident occurred last night at the headquarters,” voice plain as he speaks to the Deputy Commander, “We have yet to gain full knowledge on the situation. If we were to make a statement now, it is a risk of polluting fact with falsities. Later this afternoon I’m sure we’ll be able to provide a much more detailed report.”
“Hmm,” Gongmyung mulls over Hansol’s statement for a moment, “I’ll look forward to hearing all about what happened later this evening, then. For now, I’ll return to my men.” He waves everyone on his way out, a strange smile cutting across his face before he exits.
“That was easier than it should’ve been,” Seungkwan huffs, watching the door close with a soft slam.
“What do you mean?” You ask, attention turning from the door and to Seungkwan.
“Gongmyung isn’t stupid, unfortunately,” Jihoon frowns and looks at you, “We shouldn’t have let him in here. The only person missing from our ranks is Seungcheol, it’s not going to take him long to realize that something’s happened to him.”
The Deputy Commander had most likely suspected what had occurred but decided to not press the issue. Before you can think on it for too long, the door opens once more and Choi Seungcheol shuffles in.
A small laugh as he looks at them, his voice sounding a little weak, “Come on, it’s not like I’m some kind of monster.”
Eunseok rushes to him, offering assistance to stand but is waved away by the Colonel, “You should be resting, are you okay being up like this?”
“I’m tired… sore… but I suppose that’s a side effect of my new condition,” Seungcheol’s brow furrows slightly as he looks down to his hand, “Those who’ve taken the serum have found it difficult to do work in the daylight.” His face is a bit pallid, but with the way he stands and moves, it doesn’t seem like he’s hindered all too much. “I’m no longer human,” the words echoing around the room with a chilling effect. Each and every captain fell silent to them.
“Who cares about what you are?” Youngmin speaks up after a moment and steps towards Seungcheol with a bright smile, trying to lighten the mood, “All that matters is that you’re alive.”
“How’s your arm? Healed?” Seungkwan questions, looking down to the colonel’s once bandaged limb.
“I don’t think I’ve fully recovered yet,” Seungcheol notes, flexing his fingers at his side, “It seems to have healed for the most part.”
Despite the disturbance and subsequent chaos of the night prior, it seems like Seungcheol’s wish to use his arm again had come true.
“You can’t go out in the sunlight though, right?” Mingyu asks, voice concerned, and his brow furrowed, “Will you still be able to fight with us?”
Seungcheol nods, slowly moving his head as if he’s mulling over a thought he’d been holding in for some time. “I think you should tell everyone I died.”
“What!?” Junhui shouts out, unable to hold in the burst of confusion. “The fuck are you on about?”
“I should serve in the Corps from now on. It’ll show them, and even more so, us, that success isn’t some far off dream.” Seungcheol says, looking at the frazzled captain.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind Seungcheol?” Junhui’s voice shakes with every word, “Do you know what you’re saying?”
“Of course, I do,” Seungcheol frowns, “The Crown has ordered us to keep the serum a secret, and if I,” a small hum as he postulates his next word, “die, that secret remains so. Researching in secret will give me more ability to track side effects and even give me the potential to remove them. What reason do we have for me not to if we’re going to use it?”
The movements of the captains easily show that they’re against Seungcheol’s idea, although no one but Junhui has said anything against it. None of them wish to banish their friend to a life of hiding and secrecy.
“We were given this task by the late King himself, carried on by his son…” Youngmin trails off, “This may be our only choice.”
“This is what you asked for, isn’t it Seungcheol?” Seungkwan shoots him a look, “You’ve always been the type to take things into your own hands so I can’t fault you for that.”
“Sometimes I think you know me too well,” the colonel chuckles.
Jihoon, who’s stayed silent for a majority of the conversation, scoffs at the remark. “This means moving the Hwarang to a new location can’t wait any longer. If we’re going to hide Seungcheol from Gongmyung and his crowd, Shoshin wouldn’t allow us to do that easily.”
“You’re right,” Hansol affirms, “If the Colonel intends to begin researching again, then we’ll have to expedite our move.”
A nod from the commander as he turns to face the captains in full, “Even though none of you slept well, we need to get to work.” He looks to you, “You should get some rest, I know you didn’t sleep well either.”
You want to stay and help them, but with how fatigued you are from staying up so late you can only nod your head at him before quickly shuffling back to your room.
The same thoughts that had plagued you last night as you tried to fall asleep plague you as you now lie on your bedding. Your father’s work… Are you safe under their pretext of safety still? Thoughts still buzzing around your head as you eventually find yourself drifting off into a dreamless slumber.
𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 4𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞
Bulguksa Temple has proven a better headquarters than that of Shoshin Temple, you’d come to this conclusion in the subsequent weeks of your arrival in March of this year. There’s much more room for the men to freely roam and train, and the view was even more astonishing than the last. The only downfall is the longer trek to the city of Seorabeol itself. On some days you still find yourself lost on the winding paths to the temple, but for the most part you can guide yourself around with little assistance from the monks who reside there.
On this particular day, you find yourself wandering the seemingly endless grounds for the Hwarang’s colonel. When you think you spot him standing in one of the shaded courtyards of the temple’s grounds you shout out to him.
“There you are, Colonel,” You call out, a tray held tightly in your grasp. The sun hangs in the sky above you, a slight burn beginning to burgeon on your clothed shoulders as you approach. “I’ve brought you your lunch.”
“Oh, hello,” he turns to you with a smile and beckons you closer, “Thank you.” A bird chirps in the branches of the tree above him, you look up to find the small creature before returning your gaze to him. You offer him a smile before extending out the tray to him.
“It’s really gotten warm lately, hasn’t it?” You note, stepping into the shade once he’d taken the tray. Fingers rising to your shoulders to feel the heat of the sun that had soaked into the fabric.
“It has,” he nods, moving to set the tray down on a stump beside him, “Although the increased sunshine has been more disagreeable than the warmth.”
“Ah, is it?” The sun doesn’t feel but so harsh on you, but the heat that swells around the compound has been making you sweat since the sun broke over the horizon. Yet, to Seungcheol his disposition probably found the light unbearable from his days in the shadows.
Sometimes it feels unreal to call Seungcheol dead, the night where he’d taken that serum to transform him into a creature lustful for blood, feeling more so like a dream whenever you recall it. As he stands before you now, you can hardly imagine it.
A light breeze wafts through the greenery around you, parting enough leaves in the tree from a few beams of sunlight to fall onto Seungcheol. For a moment, his hair turns a silvery white and his eyes seem to turn a deep crimson.
Your eyes widen and you take a step back, unsure if it were a trick of the light or your own imagination.
“Is something wrong?” He asks, his hair now normal and his eyes once again brown. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and I know I’m not at that point yet.” Maybe you had imagined it.
𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 6𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞
Soonyoung had asked you to accompany him on his rounds this morning with an excitedness in his voice that would’ve been hard to turn down. So, now you find yourself briskly walking with him through the crowded streets, the blues of his robes shining brilliantly in the midday sky.
“It’s been a while since you’ve asked me to come on patrol with you,” You note as you pass a vendor selling sickeningly sweet treats.
“I know, right? Hanseong kept me pretty busy.” He sighs out, having only just returned from his trip to the northern city just a few weeks ago. “Junhui and Mingyu didn’t mess with you when I was gone, did they? How was it when I was away?”
“Everything was fine, and they didn’t bother me,” You assure him with a small smile.
“That’s good,” He returns the smile as you continue to walk. “Any updates on Heo though? Did you find any leads?”
“No,” the smile from your lips quickly leaving.
“I see…” His own smile quickly disappears as he watches you, “I stopped by his place with the information you gave me but… It didn’t seem as if anyone had returned.” The somberness of the male begins to transfer to you, a feeling of hopelessness beginning to overtake you momentarily.
“Thank you for taking the time to check for me, I know Toehwa-hyeon isn’t on the direct path back.”
“Don’t thank me for that,” He waves you off, “The fact that you can’t freely come and go as you please is completely the Hwarang’s faul—”
“Soonyoung?” You question as he’d stopped himself mid-sentence. He’d looked glum ever since his return from Hanseong. “How about you, though? I know it’s been a while since you’ve been back in Seorabeol.”
“I do feel like the city’s changed, the people too,” he muses, glancing at the faces that pass by. There’s a solemness to his tone that wasn’t typically there in conversations you’d had with him prior, had something happened in Hanseong? Before you can question him on it, his head jerks to look above the crowd, standing on his toes and waving to someone across the way.
“Find anything over there, Seungkwan?!” He shouts out above the clamor of the street.
“Nope,” the older replies as he saunters over, “Nothing out of order here.” Seungkwan is out for patrol too, but his route takes him through a different path through the city. “Normal for now, at least. Things will change once the king comes back from his family villa. Rumor has it that he’s going to address the Hwarang.”
“Is he really?” You question, brow raising in surprise.
“Yep, it’s got Youngmin all flustered,” Seungkwan chuckles, “Our dear leader really respects the Crown, as well all have to, I guess.”
“I see,” you nod, “I hope it actually happens, then, right, Soonyoung?”
Soonyoung looks lost in thought before he hears his name, stumbling out his words as he responds, “Ah, yeah, right.”
You look to Seungkwan to see if he’s caught on to the other’s oddness. But he’s stifling his mouth with his hand, coughing into it.
“Are you alright?” You question him as his hand falls away from his mouth.
“I’m okay,” he waves you off, “I probably just caught a cold from patrolling late one night or something.”
“Well, try to take care of yourself,” a sigh leaving you. As strong and intelligent as the men were, they hardly ever took care of their basic needs, “I have some cold medicine back at the headquarters, I’ll give you some.”
“Thanks,” Seungkwan smiles, “I guess it is good to have you around at times.” Something catches his attention, and he breaks his gaze away from you and into the crowds of the street.
“Is something wrong?”
“What do you mean ‘no’?” A voice rings out and you follow it to see a man holding the wrist of a woman trying to get away from him.
“Let go of me!” She cries out, trying to pull herself away from his grip.
“We’re soldiers of this great kingdom, fighting hard every day to kick these loyalists’ asses! You owe us some drinks, and maybe even a little company.” The man says, and it’s then you realize it isn’t just him, but two other presumed soldiers are harassing this woman.
“Are you guys seeing this?” You question the two captains.
“Yeah,” Soonyoung frowns, “Stay here.”
Yet, before Soonyoung could step forward, Seungkwan seems to be several steps ahead, reaching the group already.
“Soldiers don’t seem to be what they used to,” he tuts, “throwing that rank aloud doesn’t mean you’re owed anything.” The crowds coming to watch the scene shuffle away from Seungkwan as he hovers his hand on his blade, glaring at the men. As the harassers catch the blues of the Hwarang’s robes they seem to stiffen.
“You’re a Hwarang, aren’t you?” One of them asks, furrowing their brow.
“And you must be the smartest one out of these men,” Seungkwan’s tone is condescending as his hand now rests on the hilt of his sword. “Now, what’s it going to be?” A snide, predatory smile as he grips the hilt, no happiness deriving from the grin as the soldier’s faces pale.
“Why don’t you leave us alone? This doesn’t involve you.” The one presumed to be their ringleader remarks.
“If you really want to get out of here unscathed, you should probably follow your own advice,” Soonyoung scoffs, now saddling up beside Seungkwan.
The sight of two Hwarang seems enough to deter the men from their endeavor. Their faces draining of color before they scamper off like scolded dogs.
“If they’re just gonna run off like that when they see us they shouldn’t have tried to start anything in the first place,” Soonyoung sighs, watching them disappear into the crowds.
“Aren’t you going to go after them?” You ask, looking at them as you walk over.
“And charge them with what?” Seungkwan questions, retracting his hand away from his blade and crossing his arms, “Didn’t think you were the iron fist kind of person.”
Before you can protest that that’s not what you meant, the woman whom the two Hwarang had intervened for speaks up, “Thank you for saving me.” She gives both Seungkwan and Soonyoung a bow, more grace in her movements than you could ever hope to have. Even if you dressed like a girl you’re not sure you’d even come close.
Seungkwan’s hand lands on your shoulder before you’re able to feel any sorrier for yourself. “Seungkwan?” You question as he pulls you forward to stand next to the girl.
“Just go with it,” he says and steps away from the two of you, his hand under his chin as he looks over both of you. You smile softly at the girl, embarrassed as to what the Hwarang is making you do. She returns the smile, beautiful on the outside but there is something almost… strange about it.
“Just as I thought,” Seungkwan nods, “They look just like each other.”
And then it hits you, the girl standing before you looks just as you do whenever you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirrors dotting the headquarters.
“Really?” Soonyoung questions, tilting his head at the two of you, “I don’t think they look alike at all, Boo.”
“Dress ‘em up like a girl and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” Seungkwan insists.
“Captain Boo…” The woman says, looking at you, “She seems troubled.”
She? Had the woman caught on to you so soon? Stuck in your thoughts she smiles at you once more, “I want to thank all of you properly, but I’m afraid that I’m in the middle of something important. My name is Ahro, I hope I’ll be able to repay you soon, Captain Boo.”
And with that she too disappears like a wisp into the crowds of Seorabeol, the strangeness of her presence lingering long after she’s left.
“It looks like she likes you, Seungkwan!” Soonyoung nudges the elder with his elbow.
“Is that really what you think, Soonyoung?” The other laughs, “You’ve got a long way to go before you’re at Junhui’s prowess levels.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Soonyoung shouts at the other, clearly offended by the remark.
Their bickering fades away as you look to a puddle on the ground left from the rain the night prior. Looking into it now you see the resemblance that you and that woman had had. “Ahro…” You hum as a gust of wind causes the water to ripple and distort your figure.
“Let’s get going!” Soonyoung calls, now further down the street as he’d begun walking back to Bulguksa.
“Coming!” You shout out to him as you look up from the puddle and begin to chase after him.
𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 11𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞
The main hall of this temple is open enough so that most, if not all, of the Seorabeol Hwarang can fit inside of it with ample room to spare. It’s a little strange to see all of these faces in one place, seeing as at Shoshin, only the captains and a few other members took priority of occupying the main hall. Yet, as Kwak Youngmin stands proudly in front of his men, any thoughts of the prior location escape your mind.
“By now it’s probably not our best kept secret, but King Munmu has asked us to act as his guard as he returns from his family’s villa to Banweolseong.” Youngmin beams excitedly as the hall begins to erupt in chatter.
“Guard him?” Junhui looks shocked as he turns towards Mingyu, “What’s that about?”
“I don’t know,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “I thought we were just going to get the usual ‘Keep up the good work’ spiel.”
“Our work at Wonweol and Ongsan must’ve gotten through to them,” Jihoon nods, a hidden smile pulling at his lips.
“The leadership of Silla resting on us,” Seungkwan muses almost gleefully, “That’s big.”
“Exactly right,” Jihoon agrees, “We’ve got to do beyond our best for this.”
On the opposite end of the hall, you can hear Suh Kangjoon speak up, “Guarding the king… That’s quite the promotion for us.”
“It truly is,” Gongmyung notes with a sigh, “If only Seungcheol were alive to see it. He would’ve been overjoyed.” Another lamenting breath tiptoeing on faux sympathy, “To have lost such an ally…”
Kim Gongmyung and all of his followers had been told of the colonel’s passing. Actually, the incident surrounding Seungcheol’s transformation had been hidden, only a few of the Hwarang knew the reality of the situation.
“I think doing our best to serve and protect the king is what Seungcheol would’ve wanted,” Youngmin interjects himself into their conversation.
“Yes,” Gongmyung nods, “Of course. This is an excellent opportunity for us to gain favor with the masses.”
“We ought to assign roles at this point. I’d like Jihoon, Seungkwan, and myself to—” Youngmin begins before being cut off by Jihoon.
“Sorry Kwak, but do you think Boo can sit this one out?” The commander’s arms cross over his chest as he glances towards the third party.
“Why’s that?” Youngmin questions, confusion sweeping his features.
“His cold hasn’t recovered fully. And despite me telling him to take care of himself, he neglects to do so,” He sighs out, looking back towards Youngmin.
“Is this true, Seungkwan?” Youngmin looks at the swordsman, “Are you alright?”
“Lee’s just babying me again,” Seungkwan says with a dismissive gesture, “I think I’m alright.”
“Don’t give me that shit,” Jihoon frowns, “You nearly coughed up a lung earlier.”
“Are you trying to sell me medicine?” He scoffs, crossing his arms with a frown, “There’s no way in hell I’m taking what your mother’s doctor prescribed anymore. It tastes like persimmons.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to—” a frustrated grunt from the commander, “Just do what I say, for once.”
You recall giving Seungkwan medicine some time ago after he’d been coughing while out on patrol, had it not helped him? It could be dust particles in the air, you know that the buildup of dust in the temple caused you to sneeze incessantly some mornings.
From the corner of your periphery, you see someone raise their hand.
“Is something wrong, Soonyoung?” Youngmin asks, having seen the younger calling for attention.
“I’m uh, I’m not feeling so great either,” Soonyoung frowns, his eyes looking panicked.
“You too?” Youngmin hums in defeat, “You should try and take care of yourself. I was hoping we could all go and guard the king.”
“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung bows his head in apology.
“No, no, don’t worry about it. Your health comes first, always!” Youngmin tries to brighten his tone to detract from the now somber mood. “I’m sure we’ll have another chance to do something great together!”
Jihoon and Youngmin continue discussing the precession that’s to take place, when suddenly, the commander turns to you.
“What’re you going to do?” Jihoon asks, an eyebrow raised as he poises the question.
“What do you mean?” You say as you look to him, “Are you asking if I want to go with you?”
“I am,” He nods and after a moment of silence asks, “Are you?”
“Is that really okay?”
“Of course it is!” Youngmin smiles, “We won’t mind. Besides, you’re practically one of us, I’d love for you to accompany us.”
Another moment of hesitation before Seungkwan laughs aloud, “Why don’t you go? It seems a lot safer than what happened at Wonweol and Ongsan.”
“Yeah,” Soonyoung nods, “I can’t imagine any loyalists would try to do anything when the king’ll be so heavily guarded.”
“I’ll go, then,” you nod firmly towards the commander.
“Alright,” Jihoon nods back with a small smile, “I thought we’d give you the job of running messages when needed. It’s not going to be the easiest job but I figure you can do it.”
Later that day you and the able captains and Hwarang left Seorabeol. Traveling about an hour or two outside of the city as you wait for the king’s caravan to greet you in a small village that you can’t remember the name of. You never actually saw the king, but you follow the Hwarang back to Seorabeol, arriving at the gates of the city just as the sun dips below the horizon. The walk through the city is brisk, and in no time the caravan disbands and you and a few other Hwarang stand outside the palace gates. By now, Youngmin, Junhui and Gongmyung are probably greeting officials and other important members of the king’s retinue.
You shift on your feet for a moment, the sole aching slightly from the trek earlier, but you have a job to do. Jihoon had tasked you to tell the Hwarang when to change their shift and to carry any important messages when needed. It’s something of a glorified page position, but it’s not an entirely useless role… probably.
“You’re the messenger?” A voice says as you approach them, “This isn’t a vacation, you know.”
“I’m not here to relax, Dongyoung,” you sigh as you stand before him.
“Is that right? Then why did we take someone here who can’t even use a sword?” Dongyoung scoffs, the light from a nearby brazier flickering across the sneer on his face.
“I’m here to do what I can,” You state firmly before beginning to relay your message. “The Chief is currently paying his respects to members of the court, everyone else should continue guarding.”
“Message understood,” he says flippantly, causing you to look confused with how he didn’t retort on it. “What? Surprised I actually listened to you?”
“Oh no—I just—”
“It’s a job,” He frowns, “It’s not personal. Now you’ve delivered your message, get going.”
You don’t ever speak much to Dongyoung, mostly on account of his brother being Gongmyung, but maybe he’s more responsible than you thought him to be.
After he shoos you away, you continue to make your rounds, delivering messages to the Hwarang stationed around the castle. They’re easy to spot, wearing their white robes instead of their normal blues. They seem laxer now, maybe because the loyalists had been driven out of the capital for the most part, the Baekje revivalists fleeing back to the territory of the old kingdom.
As you think that, and begin to approach another member of the Hwarang some distance away, your blood runs cold. A prick of gooseflesh running along your spine as your heartbeat reaches your ears. You can taste the blood in the air, looking around the trees encasing the palace and finding nothing. It’s not until you look at the castle walls and the walkway situated on top of it, does your stomach sink. Three figures jump down from the wall, landing on the dirt ground with a cloud of gritty dust.
“You’ve found us, then,” A familiar voice sighs out as they turn to you, stating your name somewhat cooly. The figure, flanked by two others, is haloed in the moonlight as you squint your eyes to try and get a better look at his face. “Not too slow.” Their piercing gaze fires into you, the name ‘Hong Jisoo’ battering through your mind as you remember the distinctive voice and way he carries himself. The last you’d seen him had been at Ongsan, and you face him now with much more dread than you’d had that day.
The two figures beside him must be Hwan Minhyun and Xu Minghao, the people whom other Hwarang had encountered during the battle at the fortress. You know they have ties with the inner court and had tried to stop the Hwarang’s efforts during the battle at Wonweol and Ongsan.
“Why are you here?” You question, trying to keep your voice steady.
“You mean ‘how’ did we get here, don’t you?” the one on Jisoo’s left, questions. “Man made obstacles are meaningless to a Demon.”
“We’re here for only one reason: you.” The other speaks up, crossing his arms.
“Me?” You take a step back, the pounding of your heart unrelenting as you stare at them. “I don’t understand.” How do they know your name? “What do you mean by Demon? Is this some kind of joke?”
Jisoo scoffs, “You of all people are asking that? Maybe you’re the one who’s joking.” He steps forward, toward you, the shadows seeming to cling to his robes as he walks.
When the man you now presume to be Minhyun speaks, it’s soft, almost caring in a way, “When you’re injured, do you heal quickly?” Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, “You heal faster than anyone around you, right?”
This knowledge about you is unknown to almost everyone except for you and your father… How do they know this?
You’re about to try and pull yourself together to defend yourself from the accusations when the other man, Minghao speaks up. “Wouldn’t it be better to just give her a demonstration?” His hand begins to reach for the quiver on his back before Jisoo speaks up.
“Minghao, do you really think I’d let you hurt a female Demon?” His voice slightly agitated as he glanced at the other.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Hong.” He scoffs, “She’s being stubborn, what do you suggest we do?”
Jisoo breaks his glare, only for his eyes to settle on the blade at your hip. “Her family’s name is a demon’s, she carries the Demon of Taebaeksan’s blade. Isn’t that enough evidence?”
“My… name?” What’s wrong with ‘Heo’? His narrative, largely unknown to you, is cause enough for you to continue to panic.
“Then again, it’s not like we need your permission to kidnap you,” Jisoo muses, looking at you with a frown, “Come with us or we’ll have to take you instead.” His hand outstretches towards you like a lure trying to bait in a fish. You step back, away from him, when you feel two figures brush past you.
“Woah there,” Mingyu says as he stops, feet hitting the ground as his hand reaches for and pulls out his sword, “This really isn’t the place to try and pick up a woman.”
“You again?” Jisoo asks as he steps back, a sneer on his lips, “For a noble you really do like to keep it simple.”
“The same could be said to you,” Hansol says to him, also reaching for his blade. He looks back to you, “When we heard you hadn’t given your messages out on time we came to look for you.”
You nod and step back once more, your legs becoming unsteady as if the adrenaline that had been coursing through you suddenly left you at once. A hand catches you before you fall, pulling you further away from the skirmish.
“Stay back here,” Jihoon says sternly, looking towards the trio of assailants. His hand guides you to his side before he lets go of you, reaching for his blade. “I thought you’d be here for the king,” He says to Jisoo, “What do you want with my page?”
“I don’t have any interest in you or this kingdom right now,” Jisoo says, looking past the commander and at you, “This matter only concerns us Demons.”
“Demons?” Jihoon scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the foe. He seems confused by the statement, perhaps hoping there’d be a more coherent and understandable reason for Jisoo’s presence.
“Haven’t seen you since Ongsan,” Minghao notes, looking over to Mingyu and Hansol.
“Looks like it’s fate,” Mingyu huffs out, “not that I’m particularly happy about it.”
“I don’t feel great about this reunion either,” Hansol sighs and pulls out his sword, Mingyu following suit.
The tension lays thick in the air, settling into your throat so that you find it hard to speak or breathe. With the slightest movement that could set them off, you reflexively reach for the blade at your hip so that should anything arise, you’ll be ready.
“Don’t worry about them,” A voice from behind you speaks up. Cloaked in the shadows from the nearby forest, Chan slowly approaches you. “Jihoon’s asked me to escort you back to headquarters.”
“Are you telling me to run?” You ask, gaze shifting from Chan to Jihoon, who’s still locked eyes with Jisoo.
“I am,” Chan nods, reaching out so that you might take his hand, “Even if you stay there’s little you can do.”
You shake your head, his hand falling away back to his side, “I’m going to stay.”
“What do you think you’ll be able to do here?” Chan doesn’t sound condescending, just confused as to why you’d wish to stay and endanger yourself further.
You think to what the three intruders had said to you prior, the want to know more about what they’d called you sought itself out with more priority than your own safety at the moment.
“You have a reason, I see.” The Hwarang shakes his head, not waiting for a response as he sees the conviction already dead-set in your gaze. “I can admire that. But I do have my orders. You may want to stay because you want to do what you believe is right, but I have to do the same.” His hand outstretches towards you once more, a pleading look in his eye as he quietly asks for you to go with him.
Before his fingers are able to brush against the linen of your robes, an arrow whizzes by, buzzing before it lands with a solid ‘thunk’ in a tree behind Chan. Gaze traveling back to where it had been fired, you find Minghao lowering his bow, his hand still hovering over his quiver should he need to take another shot.
“She said she wanted to stay,” Minghao sighs, grabbing another arrow before loosely notching it, “You have to learn to respect a woman’s wishes.”
Mingyu lurches forward with his sword in retaliation for the attack on his fellow Hwarang, hoping to land a blow somewhere on Minghao’s abdomen. The strike though, is easily dodged by the bowman, who merely steps aside and watches as Mingyu’s feet falter as he moves to sling his bow over his shoulder and reach for the sword at his hip.
“Minghao’s temper is going to get him in trouble one day,” you hear Minhyun note with a frown as he witnesses the event.
“Evidently so,” Hansol agrees, sword still clenched in his fist, “You don’t seem like you’re going to stop him, though.” He then moves to strike the unarmed foe, swinging his sword in a downward motion to try and disrupt the lax stance Minhyun was in.
“And here I was,” a clanging of metal as Minhyun seems to unsheathe his sword in a blink of an eye and move it upwards to counter Hansol’s blow, “thinking we could just talk this through!”
“Who the hell are these guys?” Jihoon says through grit teeth as you hover your hand over your blade once more. Behind you, you can hear Chan slip back into the tree line, presumably to go and fetch help for the commander and captains. Minghao and Minhyun are showing much more prowess with a blade than you’d thought, and with Jisoo still standing, you know it’d take more men than the three Hwarang to defeat them.
For now, though, you put your faith into Jihoon and step back from the fight, an action that draws appraisal from the commander, “Good. Don’t be an idiot and draw your sword. Leave this to me.”
“Don’t you remember the last time we fought?” Jisoo frowns and you recall the fight that Jihoon had found himself entrenched in. The way that the stranger speaks of it unsettles you, as if he’s taunting the commander with the memory of it. “Maybe instead of going easy I’ll just get rid of you.”
Jihoon laughs at the absurdity of the statement, “I’d love to see you try. I still haven’t paid you back for killing one of my men at Ongsan.”
The rivalry sparks between them, a fire igniting in their gazes before Jihoon takes the first step. They run towards each other, their swords clanging together and ringing out through the nighttime sky. Blades screaming against one another as they’re pulled apart by the respective opponent, Jihoon seeks to swing again only to be parried by Jisoo with ease.
“What the hell are you?” Jihoon asks as the two part once more, his breathing heaving as it seems as if he’d thrown his all into his last strike.
“Haven’t I already said what I was? A Demon,” Jisoo frowns, barely looking scathed by the short skirmish, “but not just me, or them, but her too.” His gaze flickers over to you for a moment before looking back to Jihoon. “We’ve come to relinquish you from watching over her.”
“Sounds like bullshit to me,” Jihoon snorts before tightening his grip on his blade. This time, it’s Jisoo who strikes out first, their blades greeting each other with a shuddered clangor. They exchange a few more blows, a strand of Jisoo’s hair edging too close to Jihoon’s blade and quickly getting cut away. The cut strands flutter to the ground and settle by his feet. Instead of looking scared at how close a blade had come to his body, Jisoo shows what seems to be the tiniest bit of surprise before lowering his sword.
Jihoon, seeing his opposition falter, lowers his blade as well, taking a step back. Around them, you see that Hansol, Minhyun, Mingyu and Minghao have stopped fighting as well.
“Fighting like this is going to get us nowhere,” Minhyun frowns and looks over to Jisoo, “We’ll only attract more people.”
“I can’t help but feel that that’s targeted at him,” Minghao bites, “I know when to stop, the only one here who’s got an issue with that is—” His gaze trails towards Jisoo as he speaks, biting back a retort.
A deep, almost exasperated sigh from Jisoo, “We don’t have to stay. We’ve only come to verify that the lead was correct.”
“Do you think we’ll just let you walk away?” Hansol questions, his sword still raised towards the trio.
“You three might survive,” Jisoo nods, moving to sheath his sword, “but how many of your men will we have to kill before we escape? Are their lives that expendable?” Jihoon, Hansol and Mingyu remain angrily silent, knowing full well they can’t accept that risk. Jisoo smiles at them, he and the two others begin to make their way to the forest’s edge, but before they disappear completely, their leader turns and says one last thing to you.
“I will be back for you.” Not wanting to meet his gaze, your eyes travel to the embroidered yellow azaleas on his robes before they vanish in the denseness of the forest.
The words whip through you like an icy chill, curling around your stomach with a fear you haven’t felt since you were a child.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks after he’s sheathed his sword and takes a few steps towards you.
“I’m… alright,” you nod weakly, clenching your fists so they won’t shake.
“You’re bad at lying,” he laughs lightly, “Just wait here for a bit, we’ll have some other men take a few rounds and make sure those three don’t come back.”
“Thank you,” trying to sound as appreciative as you can, you look from Mingyu to Jihoon, who continues to stare into the darkness of the woods as if to try and spot the three figures.
“Do you have any idea why they came after you?” He questions after a moment, locking eyes with you as if to probe your mind.
“I’m not sure…” you relent, not knowing whether Jisoo’s words were accurate or not. Were you really what he said, a Demon?
𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 20𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞
The incident on the night of the eleventh never comes to the attention of any other members of the Hwarang, save for the commander’s most trusted captains. In lieu of that, life at Bulguksa remains relatively unchanged, the usual grumblings from Gongmyung and his crowd continue as usual and the captain’s antics remain unbothered.
On this balmy morning, you walk through the halls, coming upon a line of Hwarang gaily chatting among themselves as they wait. Suddenly a door opens from the beginning of the line and Gongmyung comes racing out towards your direction.
“Never have I felt so violated,” He huffs exasperatedly, coming towards you. “This is absolutely horrendous!”
“Is something wrong, Gongmyung?” You ask with a tilt of your head, wondering what has the Deputy Commander in such a tizzy.
“Everything!” He pants out, a thin line of panicked sweat trailing down the side of his face, “Why am I meant to disrobe in that room of utter brutes!?”
His sentence makes you furrow your brow, what exactly is going on?
“Someone who calls themself a physician who Youngmin met while conversing with the King’s council arrived today,” the Deputy Commander does his best to straighten his robes and adjust his long strands of hair that had gone askew. “He’s holding physical examinations.” With a frown he nods his head towards the door he’d raced out of moments prior, “That monster said I should take my clothes off in front of near strangers! When I refused, he tried to take them off of me himself! And the other captains just stood there! Without doing anything!”
Seeing as your particular… situation might not be the best for a physical examination in a group full of men, you think about returning to your room before you ask, “What’s the doctor’s name?”
“I think it was Namekawa Yasuo, some man from Yamato,” Gongmyung huffs indignantly.
“Doctor Namekawa!” You nearly jump at the familiar name.
The other takes a step back in surprise, “Do you know him or something?”
When you’d arrived in Seorabeol with your father’s letter and a few fragments of some from your father’s collection, his name had been among the signatures. It was your intention upon arrival to seek him out, your father had always called him a trustworthy man. Once in Seorabeol, you found that he’d been away on some patient’s request, and after that you’d quickly gotten swept up into the world of the Hwarang.
“I’ve got to go!” You brush away his question and barrel past him towards the door he’d exited from.
“You’re going in there willingly?” Gongmyung calls out from behind you, shaking his head in disgust.
Almost immediately when you open the door you wish you hadn’t.
“Alright, next,” the man you presume to be Dr. Namekawa calls out, motioning forward a Hwarang. A nearly fully disrobed Hwarang.
“My turn!” Junhui shouts and steps forward, only wearing the pants worn underneath his Hwarang robes. “You’re looking at years of training right here,” he laughs almost comically as he approaches the doctor’s station.
“I think you’re fine, Wen,” Soonyoung scoffs, in a similar state of undress as Junhui, “it’s your head he should be looking at.”
“Are you asking me to beat the shit out of you?” Junhui turns to look at him, a grin split across his face.
Dr. Namekawa rolls his eyes at him before speaking, “Wen Junhui, you’re fine. Next!”
“Hold on!” Junhui says, taking a step closer to the doctor and flexing his arm, “You’ve gotta make sure I’m in prime condition!”
“As healthy as a horse,” Namekawa reels, sitting back in his seat, “I’ve seen more than enough, thank you.”
“You’re holding up the line, Wen,” Mingyu calls out, and you spot Hansol standing next to him, both with unamused expressions on their faces. “For the love of— please get moving.”
“I just don’t think he’s had enough time to fully make sure I’m okay!” Junhui complains, “I’m trying to make sure I can bulk up more!”
“This is supposed to be about finding medical issues, not boasting,” Hansol sighs, his arms crossed over his chest, “Move.”
Your mouth hangs open in shock, it’s now easy to see why Gongmyung had made such a hasty retreat. Shaking your head, you pull yourself from the room and back into the hallway, feeling a creeping heat of embarrassment rise up your neck.
“What are you doing here?” The Hwarang who’s first in line questions, “Is something wrong?”
“Oh!” Turning, you see Chan gazing at you perplexedly. “Hi, I heard Doctor Namekawa was here.”
“Ah, so you want to speak to him?” A tilt of his head. “I’ve been briefed on your situation, so I understand what you’re trying to do… But I’m not sure that this is the way to go about it. I’m sure he can speak to you once the physicals are complete.”
You nod, “I just think they might take a while, some of the captains…”
“I’m aware,” he laughs, “if you want me to, I can try to get things moving a little faster.”
“Would you?” Eyes widening, “I’d be thankful if you could.”
“Of course,” the smile still lingering on his lips, “Just leave it to me.” With that he walks into the room and towards the doctor, “Excuse me, Doctor Namekawa? Please let me look after those whose symptoms are minor, I’m sure you could use a break?”
You stand in the doorway, unable to hear his response, so you step back into the hallway and wait for the doctor to exit. Namekawa Yasuo leaves the room a few moments later, his attention turning to you when you call out to him.
Namekawa’s eyes narrow as he looks at you, inspecting you as if you were one of his patients. “I need to fetch some medicine from my things, would you mind giving me a hand?” He questions, his gaze softening once you nod your head.
On the way towards his things, the two of you walk through one of the courtyards and come across Kwak Youngmin walking towards you. He nods at the doctor before glancing at you, “I see you’ve found her already.”
“Thanks to you,” Namekawa nods with a smile at the leader.
Your brow furrows as you search both of their expressions before the doctor speaks up once more, “I came to Bulguksa to see you. Youngmin told me that Heo’s daughter was staying with the Hwarang.”
“I see,” you realize, your eyes widening as you look towards Youngmin.
“I knew that Namekawa and Heo knew each other,” Youngmin smiles softly, “So I thought that maybe the doctor knew of his friend’s whereabouts.”
Even if the Hwarang wanted to find your father for reasons other than yours, this slight clue was still enough for you to feel happy.
“Thank you,” a bow to Youngmin and one to Namekawa, “both of you.”
Namekawa then goes on to say how you’d left just before he arrived at your father’s clinic in Toehwa-hyeon when you’d gone off to Seorabeol. He’d received the letter you sent but once arriving had no idea of where you’d gone or how to find you.
“I apologize for not seeking you out sooner,” he sounds remorseful, “It must’ve been difficult. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
“About my father…” the words leave you and Namekawa’s face turns grim, you already feel as if you know the answer.
“Unfortunately,” he says once your words have trailed off, “I do not know where your father is residing.”
“Oh,” utter defeat lamenting in your voice as you speak the singular word. You almost feel bad now for feeling so hopeful that Namekawa would have some earth-shattering news about the whereabouts of your father.
“I hear, though,” Namekawa coughs into his hand to clear his throat, “that you’ve become involved with the treatment… You do know what I’m referring to, right?”
“Are you able to explain it any more?” You’d learned of the serum, seen what it had done to those who’d taken it. But why, why is your father involved with it? “I want to know what my father was experimenting for.”
“Heo was working under Crown orders with the Hwarang to create what are called ‘Furies’,” Namekawa’s voice is low as he speaks, gravelly with a seriousness that permeates into you. “Furies are humans with near supernatural strength and speed. They heal incredibly quickly as well.”
“Furies?” The word lingers familiarly on your tongue, it takes a moment, but you realize you’d heard the word before. Soonyoung had tried to explain to you what they are on the night that Seungcheol had been injured last year.
“The contents of the serum are called pimul,” Namekawa crosses his arm, tone still low, “in Tang they call it ‘al iksir’ and in Yamato it’s ‘ochimizu’. It’s meant to grant immortality.”
These words sound like some sort of fantastical fairytale than what’s meant to be real life. Yet, the seriousness of the doctor assures you that it isn’t a sick joke.
“I’ve heard of its healing and strength giving properties,” you nod, “but doesn’t it cause the drinker to go mad?” Recalling the night you had stumbled into Seorabeol and the nobles who’d been attacked by the rouge Hwarang furies causes you to shudder. “And even if that doesn’t drive you insane, the smell of blood can set you off too…”
A heaving sigh as Namekawa nods solemnly, moving then to pinch the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, “So you’re aware of that as well…”
“Why was my father doing this?” You plead more than ask, trying to search the depths of your mind to reason with yourself and come to a believable situation that would’ve caused Heo Jinsang to work with such a vile creation.
“That may have been why he left,” Namekawa suggests softly, “His morals would no longer allow him to work on such a thing.”
“And yet we were given the pimul by the Crown to help strengthen the Hwarang…” Youngmin frowns and looks towards the sidewalk.
“It was an experiment,” Namekawa shakes his head, “and it failed. It’s probably best to leave it behind, I’m sure the Crown has abandoned its ambition with it as well.”
The leader looks up and frowns at the doctor, probably unhappy to hear that Namekawa would question the Crown’s once official decision.
“You’ve seen what it’s done to your men,” Namekawa insists, “It’s inhumane and you know it better than I do.”
Youngmin lets out a huff of air and then falls silent. You know that he knows how detrimental it is to his men, painfully so. Yet, the pimul was given to him on official orders and a secret request from the former King.
“I understand that you’re one of the King’s doctors, yet…” A voice from behind after a moment of silence. Your eyes widen at the sight of Seungcheol in the daylight, knowing that the sun’s rays have an adverse effect on him. “You’re not a member of the Hwarang, you have no right to object to our methods.” His face paling in the light, lost of all color, almost as if he were a walking corpse.
“Are you okay walking around like this?” You ask him quietly, your voice teetering on worry and a whisper.
“You look pale, Seungcheol,” Youngmin frowns at the colonel, “You should be resting.”
“Don’t mind me,” Seungcheol shakes his head and then turns to the doctor. “We use the serum effectively and at our own discretion.” His gaze hardens when they lock eyes, his voice becoming gravely serious, almost as if he’s been offended.
“It’s far too dangerous to—” Namekawa begins before being interrupted by Seungcheol.
“We have and will continue to work on Heo’s research.” His voice, behind the veneer of quiet anger, sounds weakened. “I am living proof of its effectiveness.”
“You may be right,” Namekawa cedes before raising another point, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not forcing your body in ways unseen with the eye.”
“I’m perfectly healthy,” Seungcheol insists, “With continued research and alterations to the serum, we’ll have less casualties and more success.”
“And are you planning on sacrificing your men for your success?” Namekawa frowns, “These men aren’t just common folk, many are the sons of nobles, aristocrats! Sons who will be missed should they just disappear.”
“It’s not as if we’re force feeding them pimul.” Seungcheol’s agitated at the doctor, you don’t know the last time he was able to see his own family since becoming a Fury. “The men who devote and give their lives to the Hwarang are the foundation of my work, they did not and will not die in vain.”
“But—”
“I think that’s enough,” Youngmin steps in before the doctor can say anything else, “from either of you. Let’s discuss this at another time.”
To you it seems that neither Seungcheol or Namekawa would ever come to a civil agreement on the ethics of the serum’s usage. But that was an opinion you feel is best not said at this moment.
The anger in Seungcheol’s face subsides, and the corner of his mouth turns up into a smile before he bows and leaves the three of you wordlessly.
“So…” Youngmin says as Seungcheol recedes back into the headquarters inner buildings, “How did exams go?”
“About that,” Namekawa begins, “It’s a bit troubling.”
“Troubling?” Youngmin asks, confused, “What do you mean by that?”
“What do you mean ‘What do you mean’?” Namekawa frowns, “The amount of injured and ill men you have is nearly a quarter of your forces!”
“That’s—” Youngmin’s voice catches in his throat, “Are you sure?”
“I am not only sure, but it is the definite truth,” A disparaging shake of his head, “What have you been doing to these men? Cuts, lacerations, bowel pains… Need I mention the lice?”
“I’m embarrassed to hear that, I really am,” Youngmin looks as such, his ears pink as he drops his shoulders. “What can I do?”
“Set aside a space for the ill and those needing medical attention, for starters. I can send some pyrethrum powder for the lice,” Namekawa lists off and you can see Youngmin mentally making a list, “Second, this place needs to be cleaned. I can’t help you otherwise.”
“Of course,” Youngmin nods, the tinge of embarrassment still riding his tone, “I’ll have everything seen to immediately.”
And so, the Hwarang are ordered to clean. Those who are able-bodied enough to hold a broom or a rag are sent to the main hall, Youngmin quickly barking out cleaning orders and sending them all over Bulguksa to thoroughly scrub the temple down.
“Why the hell are we doing this?” Junhui grumbles as he sits on his knees, scrubbing at the wooden floors. “I can think of nothing less I would want to be doing right now.”
“Stop complaining so much,” Mingyu sighs and calls him over, “Help me lift up this cabinet, it’s a great way to show off your muscles from earlier.”
You’re walking into the main hall with a bucket of water when you hear Soonyoung cry out, causing you to jump and spill some of the liquid onto the floor and your shoes.
“A RAT!” He nearly screeches, hopping behind Hansol when he spots the gray creature dart out from a bookcase.
“Calm down Soonyoung,” Hansol looks as if he’s holding back a smile, trying to keep the reserved demeanor he usually has, “It’s not that bad. It actually looks like it’s eating that—is that dried up tteok?”
“Yeah!” Soonyoung says, leaning forward to get a look at the rat’s snack, “Who the hell hides their sweets back here?!”
A grumble from the other side of the room, you look over to see Kangjoon holding a boom, “Why are we bothering ourselves with work a servant should be doing? I’m a strategist, not a cleaner.”
“Why don’t you show us your school’s technique, then?” Mingyu scoffs, “You said it’s prized knowledge, maybe it can help us here.”
“Shut it!” Kangjoon says angrily, “The Pohang style wasn’t designed to help with housework!”
“You’re a little bit of a bully, huh, Mingyu?” Dongyoung snickers as he peeks out from behind one of the various shelves, “Those old-timey tactics of his wouldn’t even allow him to hold a broomstick, let alone make a dent in this mess.”
Kangjoon’s stare hardens at Dongyoung, “You should watch your mouth… Compared to the techniques from Tang it may be outdated, but I can assure you it still holds up.”
“Oh,” Mingyu looks past Kangjoon and out one of the doorways, “Youngmin’s coming.”
“Chief!” Kangjoon spins on his heels towards the door, “Look at this, the room was so filthy you couldn’t even walk properly, and with my guidance it’s—” He stops once he realizes there’s no one standing in the doorway, “Where’s Kwak?”
“You’re an idiot,” Mingyu rolls his eyes.
“Damn you, Kim,” Kangjoon spits venomously, “You tricked me!”
“An idiot and a kiss ass,” Mingyu hums, “Quite the multitasker. Don’t you ever get tired being such a two-faced asshole, not knowing which mask to wear?”
Kangjoon fumes and angrily stomps down towards the other end of the hall. You see this as an opportunity to proclaim your findings.
“I brought you all some fresh rags and water to help you clean the floor with,” you announce, holding out the bucket and handful of cloth to the captains.
“Thanks!” Soonyoung says as he bounds over, swiftly taking the items from your grasp and heading back to his work station.
𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 21𝔰𝔱, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞
“This looks to be adequate enough,” Namekawa Yasuo had arrived early the next morning to check the cleanliness of the headquarters. He now stands in the main hall, a look of approval on his features as he notes the sheen of the floorboards.
“Right?” Junhui beams, “See? The doc can acknowledge my hard work.”
Kangjoon lets out something of a guffaw at the statement, “Compared to the nuances of strategy, it’s not like tidying up is a magnificent feat or anything.”
“All you did was complain,” Junhui frowns.
“Yeah,” Soonyoung nods, “And Seungkwan got to rest all day! Sounds like he was getting special treatment while we worked our asses off.”
“Not my fault,” Seungkwan raises his hands to show he’s innocent from that decision, “Jihoon’s the one being overprotective.”
“It is your fault,” Jihoon snaps at him, arms crossing over his chest, “You’re not taking care of yourself, that’s why you’re coughing up a lung.”
“I will admit,” Hansol say, looking around the space, “It is nice seeing the headquarters put together.”
“It does look different,” Jihoon nods, also taking a moment to admire the cleanliness of the main hall, “I hope to keep it this way.”
“Then we should clean every day,” Mingyu laughs aloud.
“Great idea! Make sure you scrub the baseboards Soonie,” Junhui jokes along with the other while Soonyoung’s eyes go wide.
“But you’ve got the most energy and the biggest muscles, Junhui! Don’t think I’m letting you slide on this,” the younger argues to the two others.
“I’ll help you,” you offer with a smile, knowing that he’d need it.
“Really?” He perks up, “Yeah, we don’t need them anyway, you and me against the world!”
“Hold on,” Junhui interrupts, “I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help…”
Jihoon lets out a laugh, “Wen, there’s some trash over there, mind taking it out?”
“Hooold on, we’re not starting until tomorrow, right, Soonyoung?” Junhui looks to him for help.
“If you keep flailing your arms like that you’re only going to stir up more dust,” Hansol sighs as he watches Junhui scramble to big up the assorted pieces of garbage.
You laugh at the scene until something catches your eye, you spot both Namekawa and Seungkwan duck out of the room and head outside. Brow furrowing for a moment, you think to follow after them but stop yourself as it isn’t any of your concern.
After the ruckus in the main hall dies down, you grab a broom and head outside to sweep away fallen debris from the walkway leading to the main hall. You’ve just started to sweep the broom across the agate stone when a figure appears before you.
Head turning up from looking down at the azalea embroidered robes, all you can spurt out is a “You!” before taking a step back.
“You’ve got ancient blood running through your veins and yet you clean up after these humans?” Jisoo sounds saddened on the verge of disgust as he looks at you.
“What are you doing here?” You question as the grip you have on the broom handle tightens as he chuckles at you.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to fight me with that?” He shakes his head, biting back a laugh, “Was your family not blessed with brains?”
You don’t respond, instead look around for anything or anyone who could help you. Of course, the entrance lies empty, all of the captains still squabbling somewhere deep in the compound.
“Calm down,” Jisoo sighs, his laughter ceasing, “I’m not here to fight today. I only want to know what, if anything, you have to do with Heo Jinsang.”
Stunned by his statement, your lips part in shock, “My father?”
“…Father?” Jisoo looks surprised by your answer, “Heo Jinsang is your father?”
“Yes,” you nod, “he is.”
The man seems shocked at first, then that emotion melts away as it looks as if he’s putting the pieces of a puzzle together. He opens his mouth to say something else but a voice behind you stops him.
“Sneaking into your enemy’s base alone?” Jihoon’s voice rings out as his footsteps approach, the sound of dirt under foot crunching growing nearer and nearer. “I thought you’d be smarter than that.”
A few other pairs of footsteps and you turn and see him flanked by both Mingyu and Soonyoung.
“In broad daylight too,” Mingyu shakes his head at the intruder, “Figures.”
“Get away from her!” Soonyoung’s more than a little adamant, his hand already hovering over his sword.
“The Hwarang only come in bushels, huh?” Jisoo says, seemingly wanting to egg the men on.
“Watch it,” Jihoon says sternly, the tension between the two becoming more palpable by the second.
Surprisingly, it’s Jisoo who tries to sate it. “If you want to fight, then I’ll be happy to do so… But I’m here for other reasons, more specifically, to issue a warning.” His eyes grow dark and his tone more serious at his next statement, “Stop trying to turn humans into Demons.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jihoon frowns as he watches the other carefully.
“What makes you think that we’re going to listen to you?” Mingyu pokes at Jisoo.
“You’re all idiots,” Jisoo shakes his head warily, “Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?” He rolls his eyes, “Forget it, it was useless trying to say anything to you.”
“This is our base,” Soonyoung raises his voice, “You should shut up before we decide to do something about you being here.”
Jisoo ignores the captain’s words and turns to you, a coldness in his eyes as he speaks, “Heo is with us now, don’t you understand what that means?” He searches your eyes for a spark of recognition, but it doesn’t seem to click so he elaborates further, “Your father has abandoned the Crown.”
“What…?” You say, still puzzled by what he means.
“Why are you here?” A cold smile to match his gaze creeps onto his lips, “I think you should ponder on that. Carefully.” With that final statement he turns on his heels and seems to disappear into the shadows. You’re not sure if he just did, your mind too caught up in what he just said.
What or who were the Demons? Your father is with them? You thought Hong Jisoo’s family to be just opposing the opposite side of the court that favored the Hwarang, was it a ruse and he’s actually some sort of revivalist? Does this mean that your father is working with them?
Who are these people that call themselves ‘Demons’? And what do they want with you?
“Who are they?” You look at Jihoon, “The Demons?”
“After fighting them, I can say that they’re not like any human I’ve ever fought,” a shake of his head, “Not even close. I’ve fought against people from each kingdom but none of them… They’ve never been that powerful.” He muses for a moment and nods, “I’d say ‘demon’ is a pretty accurate descriptor.”
“If the commander thinks they’re demons, they really just might be,” Mingyu says, his brow furrowing at Jihoon.
“He is the Hwarang’s Demon, after all,” Soonyoung notes, the same concern from Mingyu’s tone riding in his.
“This is serious,” Jihoon looks at them, trying to quell the playful argument. You feel the tension in your shoulders ease after a while, the dread of seeing Jisoo on familiar ground eventually dissipating as the moments pass. With his arrival, and how easy it was for him to come unexpectedly, you’re sure that you’ll have to have a higher guard now as you walk the headquarters.
𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 7𝔱𝔥, 662 – 𝔅𝔲𝔩𝔤𝔲𝔨𝔰𝔞 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞
Compared to the year before, it seems as if the Hwarang aren’t being called on to do as much. Both the raid on Wonweol and the attack on Ongsan seem like a distant memory as you look up at your ceiling from your bed. In a way, you’re thankful for the peace wrought on by this year. It’s allowed you to take up looking for your father again and help more around the temple. The night rolling in and covering your room in a shroud of darkness, the sound of the crickets outside chirping away keeping you awake.
You push yourself from your bedding and rise to your feet, maybe a walk would help you become sleepy. Right now, you are anything but tired.
Treading quietly across the floor, you open your door, the hinges creaking as you push it open. The halls are quiet as you trapeze through them, in some rooms you can hear loud snoring, in others, nothing at all. You don’t catch sight of anyone until you reach the end of the hall that opens into a courtyard, a figure standing in the shadows as they look up towards the sky.
As you edge nearer to the greenery, you can see that it’s the commander, standing still as the moonlight cascades down onto him. His foot taps in subtle anxiousness, as if he’s waiting for someone.
This isn’t something for you to see, but a quickening curiosity takes over you as another figure approaches the commander from the other end of the courtyard.
“I’m sorry for asking you to come out so late, Jihoon,” Seungcheol’s quiet voice rings out through the nearly empty space.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jihoon turns from gazing up at the stars and looks to his friend with a small smile, “It’s a little difficult to talk during the day.”
You’ve lost all chance to either leave or inject yourself into the conversation, so you just stand and watch their conversation unfold before you.
“How are you doing?” Jihoon asks, his once soft gaze hardening with concern, “Don’t bullshit me, I’ve barely seen you since you went to Hwangnyongsa.”
Seungcheol merely smiles softly, “I’m feeling alright since the sun’s down. If I was going to complain I’d talk about the heat or humidity.”
“I know you don’t like the sun,” The commander notes, “and everybody hates the humidity and heat. But you know what I’m asking, Seungcheol.”
“Are you asking if I’ve gone mad?” The colonel asks simply, his brow raising. “If you’re worried about me, I’ll let you know that I don’t regret taking the pimul; I’ve regained the use of my arm, I’m able to carry a sword when I thought I’d never do so again.”
Seungcheol’s smile doesn’t seem to be the answer that Jihoon is looking for, and a frown overtakes him. “At what cost, though?” His voice low as he asks, pressing further, “When you become a Fury, you lose a part of yourself… Maybe even too much. I’m sorry if I’m not taking this lightly, I’m worried about you.”
“You’ve always worried too much, Jihoon,” Seungcheol says, brows knitting together as he cannot fully understand his friend’s concern. “This was a gift, a miracle, even!”
“One man’s miracle is another’s curse,” Jihoon sighs out with a scowl, “I don’t like the monkey’s paw aspect of it.”
“How scary!” Seungcheol chuckles, “I’d be a fool if I ignored one of your famed hunches.”
“You’d be a fool if you joked about this,” the scowl still present as Jihoon crosses his arms, “I’m not trying to be funny.” His fingers tap along his robes as he shakes his head, “You should be standing side by side with Youngmin and me, you’re a colonel, our colonel.”
“You’re acting odd,” Seungcheol’s lighthearted tone vacating, “Are you okay?” He suddenly looks over to you, locking eyes with yours as a small smile dances along his lips.
Jihoon follows his line of sight and catches you eavesdropping into their conversation. “What are you doing out here?!” He questions as you panic in place.
“I’m sorry,” breaking your gaze with Seungcheol you look to the ground, “I wasn’t sure if I should say something and then the two of you began talking…”
“You’ve got more important things to worry about than me, Jihoon,” Seungcheol sighs out and looks at the commander. “Gongmyung and his men, for starters. I’ve heard he’s been acting stranger than usual these days.”
“I’ve been working on that,” Jihoon relents, dropping his arms to let them fall to his sides.
Seungcheol nods, a gleam of satisfaction in his eye before he gives you a simple nod and walks away into the depths of the compound. You’re about to return to your quarters before Jihoon calls out to you.
“I haven’t dismissed you yet,” he says as you begin to turn. You freeze in place only to turn to face him fully once more. “I know you’re not an idiot so you shouldn’t act like one.” His voice is low, almost a whisper as he doesn’t wish for anyone to overhear him, “The more you know about us, the more danger you’re putting in front of yourself. It’s easy to die around here, you’ve seen that… Do you understand?”
“I’m sorry for imp—” you begin before he cuts you off, raising his voice.
“Don’t be sorry,” his head shakes, “Just be careful and stay out of trouble.” When it seems like he has nothing more to say, he raised a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinches it, quelling some sort of thought before he turns of his heels and begins to walk back towards his room.
“Commander,” you find yourself calling out. Jihoon looks so… dejected and lonely after his talk with Seungcheol, you have to say something. “Can I help with the research?”
“What the hell?” You hear him say before he turns to look back at you, “Of course not.”
“I don’t have my father’s knowledge or expertise… but I want to do something to help,” you insist, feeling responsible as if your absent father’s duties had been passed to you. “I can read his notes and help explain them, he left a lot of research material at his clinic in Toehwa-hyeon… There’s got to be something useful there. I can find something to help.”
“Heo continued his research here, don’t you know that?” Jihoon takes a deep breath as to not fume so much, “Even if we tore his clinic down to the foundations to get any scrap of information, the chances that we’ll find some new research is slim to none.”
“I can do my own research!” You push, hands clenching at your sides.
“You’re not thinking about this hard enough,” His gaze hardens, “Could you accept responsibility for things if they go south?” A sigh as he sees you begin to stumble and scramble for words, “Look, your father’s one of the top doctors in the kingdom with the knowledge of Tang medicine. He couldn’t figure that shit out. Someone like your or me with no outstanding medical knowledge isn’t going to do much better.”
Jihoon’s right and you know it, even if you don’t want to admit your faulty thinking. It’s highly ambitious of you to think that you could find a cure-all to the pimul and what your father had done to the Hwarang. As you look to Jihoon, you try and look as stoic and unbothered as possible to stop him from seeing how heartbroken you feel.
His mouth turns into a wry smile at your attempt, “You want to help and that’s what’s important. I won’t forget that.” Jihoon nods his head to show appreciation, “But you have to wait for now. The Hwarang dug themselves into this hole so that means we have to find a way out.”
Even if his demeanor is cold most of the time, there’s a hidden sincerity behind that face that only peeks through sometimes.
“I get it,” he continues, “your father was a part of the research team and you feel responsible, right? We’re still looking for him, and either we find him, or we don’t, you’ll just have to wait.” When you continue to silently object him, he frowns a bit, “Furies are bad news, in a perfect world we would’ve never gotten involved. But this world is far from it, and they might be our advantage should Goguryeo try and help those revivalists. Only as a last resort though, the cost is still too high.”
A shake of his head, “Never mind that now, though. This is between you and me though, okay?” His words hold the same tinge of threat that you’d heard on several occasions before. You nod almost out of habit at this point. “Also, the next time you take a stroll, be more cautious of who and what you may be stumbling in on.”
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