𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝑔𝓁𝑜𝓌

a queer start

Jeongguk walked through the busy streets of the village, his black robe billowing out around him. People stared as they always did-how could they not? The invincible, quick-witted and outrageously handsome warrior was gracing them with his presence, praise the Lord.

And hanging from his belt was a sword that was never unsheathed, believed to be the most powerful weapon to exist in the cosmos. Warrior he may be, but Jeongguk was far from being a savage. He never threatened anyone with his strength, would go running to offer his help to anyone, even if he were half-asleep. 

But Jeongguk very much needed a break from all of this. Having no family but only the admirers who knew far too little about him to love him as they so easily claimed, he was immensely, and heartbreakingly, lonely.

The only place where he could be himself, where the semblance of his strong-and-silent personality peeled off of his skin, was the seashore. He didn't have any memories of his family, only the sound of waves and the sensation of wet sand under his feet as a voice called to him, beckoning him to see the afterglow was what he remembered from his fleeting childhood. 

Some said they'd died in a fire, some said drowned in a heavy rain; he decided it didn't matter. What help importance was the scent of the sea, the sand sinking beneath his feet as he finally got there, to the side of the shore he most loved, where people never bothered to visit.

He sighed as he lay down, feeling his tense muscles relax. 'This is the perfect place for a nap,' he thought, 'just a few hours and then it'll be time to go-'

He sat up straight, head spinning from the sudden action but he couldn't care less. He heard a voice-a voice as soft as petals and filled with emotion resonating through the forest beside him, resonating through his whole being.

Jeongguk stood as though in a trance and made his way into the evergreen trees of the forest, uncaring of the lurking danger that hid in its shadows. All he knew, all he could comprehend, was that that voice was calling him, singing undecipherable words that were still so soft, so compelling that he wanted no, needed to know who it was, who'd finally made his heart slip out of its monotone beating and change into thudding so loud he could hear it in his ears.

He had to see the owner of this voice. He'd die if he didn't.

And the world made no sense to him, the trees he walked into, the roots he tripped over left him unfazed; his steps didn't waver. Time, rationality, all those years of learning how to identify the possibility of a conspiracy and to control impulsiveness vanished into thin air. 

The forest thinned and his bare feet touched sand once again instead of the wet forest mud. The voice was louder now, he could understand the words.

'The birds chirped as they always chirped.

The wind blew as it always blew.

The sun rose as it always rose.

But lying within what will forever be unchanged,

was my being that was no more mine.

All control was lost, I am solely yours. 

Everything's the same, but nothing's the same."

There! Close to the waves, on the ground, was a man. Jeongguk walked to him, drawn to see more, hear more. His hair was a warm brown, flowing with the strong breeze; pink, full lips parted as those words resonated; eyes fluttered shut. Jeongguk stared, unblinking.

He was ethereal.

Jeongguk surged forward. Just as he did, a huge wave came the man's way, drenching him as it retreated. The beauty yelped, jumping to his feet as he helplessly ran his hands over his        forget-me-not blue robes. Truly, Jeongguk could never forget him. 

He stared on, now into coffee brown orbs gazing back at him in startled fright. He barely registered the mellifluous voice that now acknowledged him.

"Who are you? Why must you gawk at me so indecently?"

Jeongguk blinked.

The man went on, backing away from him, hands raised, "You're not from my village; I've never seen you. Who are you?"

'No,' thought Jeongguk. 'No, don't go away.' 

He took a step toward him, still in his daze.

"STAND BACK!" 

The terrified yell was enough to finally bring him back to his senses. Yet all he said was, "Why did you stop singing?"

"W-what? What do you mean?" the strange beauty questioned, voice high with panic.

"Why did you stop singing? Please go on, my angel. I might die if you don't."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT! AND STAY AWAY!" the man screamed, backing away quickly and falling onto his backside.

Jeongguk reached out, hand outstretched to help him. "Wait-"

"NO!" the man shrieked, quickly getting to his feet.

"Halt, please, my angel. I won't hurt you."

And maybe the desperation in Jeongguk's voice or perhaps the solemnity in his eyes was convincing enough to make him stop. 

"I heard you singing," he rushed to explain, slurring his words in his haste. "And ended up here, before your eyes. I'm from the Jeon village."

Clarity dawned on the man's face. And then fear yet again. "Jeon? Oh, no. You mustn't linger! The villagers aren't very hospitable. And I...I shouldn't be here. Farewell!"

He turned, preparing to bolt but came to a sudden stop because of the firm yet gentle grip on his forearm.

"But you ought to tell me your name," said Jeongguk intensely. "Please."

"Jimin," came the man's whisper. And as Jeongguk's grip loosened, Jimin slipped away.

He watched hopelessly enamored as he set off.

"Jimin!" he called, anxious to hear his voice just once more. 

He was rewarded by a soft, tentative "Yes?" 

"Will I see you again?"

"S-see me again? I beg your pardon?" Jimin's head tilted as he spoke, confusion laced in his voice.

"Well, I must. Please meet me right here tomorrow," he begged, all his pride dissipating.

He watched, praying, as Jimin considered the thought. And then finally, he asked quietly, "When?"

Jeongguk's heart soared. He brought his hand to his mouth, pressed his lips against it and stretched it out in Jimin's direction. "In the afterglow."

He watched as Jimin stepped closer, as though he were just as entranced as Jeongguk. And their  palms had barely touched, when a wretched bird's call pierced through the air. 

Jimin shook his head, as though clearing it, forcing himself to think straight. He stared at Jeongguk in horror, as if the warrior was his worst nightmare. 

He backed away almost instantly, eyes still on Jeongguk. 

Hoping against hope, Jeongguk asked. "Will you be here?"

"No." Came the apathetic response. "No, I won't."

His heart sank.

He lowered his head, unable to accept the fact that they may never see each other again. Unrelenting, he said. "But I will be. Standing over this very sand. Waiting for you, Jimin."

He heard a whimpering sound. He raised his gaze, alarmed, only to be met with Jimin's tortured eyes.

"Y-you will n-not find me here t-tomorrow," answered Jimin, beginning to move backwards in the direction of his village. His voice quivered but his jaw was set, as though he were saying those words not to Jeongguk, but to himself. "Y-you will d-do well to remember that."

So Jimin set off, quick as a frightened squirrel. And Jeongguk, hopeful and crushed all at once, followed his every movement with his eyes.

Jeongguk would be here tomorrow, even if the chances of Jimin coming were little to none.