Time Will Answer [FIC] - 1/7
Jul. 2nd, 2022 01:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notturnitoThere is a new boy in Eden's class.
With bowed head that dwarfs his beanstalk-long figure, he does not look at anyone, his hunched shoulders connected to thin arms connected to tense palms that bunch the front of his already rumpled dark shirt. Hongjoong can already feel Dongmin's unimpressed eyes judging the boy, from the top of his dark, shaggy hair to the yellowing scuff of his shoes, though Dongmin still refrains from prodding the boy with his own energy - every of Eden's witch apprentices does it only out of respect to Eden. Still, it is clear enough: new meat in town. It doesn't help that the new kid seems jumpy, flinching and becoming stone-still when Eden claps him on the shoulder.
"This is Seonghwa," he says. "From now on, he will join our classes. Seonghwa-ssi, you may sit behind Hongjoong-ssi."
When Hongjoong stands up to greet the boy - or Seonghwa, he supposes - Seonghwa still hasn't looked up from staring at the ground, and neither has he spoken. After Eden's instruction, he merely shuffles forward to Hongjoong's directions, feet dragging so slowly that Hongjoong has all the time he needs to draw the Third Eye on his forehead and use his second Vision to peek at Seonghwa's energy-aura (which he doesn't do, evidently).
When he passes by, Hongjoong can finally see Seonghwa's eyes behind his too-long bangs, starless-dark and large, his gaze petrified to the ground as he walks carefully to his desk.
Eden says nothing else to explain to the rest, and nor does he address Seonghwa for the remainder of the lesson, even when Seonghwa just sits there and does not partake in anything. Likewise, Seonghwa does not speak, even if only to address Eden. Yet, his presence is a gloom that manages to distract Hongjoong and his fellow apprentices a good couple of times in talisman-making, that Eden finally snaps and scolds for their inattention.
Hongjoong feels that Eden knows it, though, that their minds are stretched to that odd boy who does not look at anyone, does not speak, and does nothing.
Seonghwa starts participating in lessons, though his sigils are wonky and scrawled in definite hesitation instead of the definite willpower that Eden's been drilling his apprentices in, and his energy work is so abysmal that he has to stay behind to get more lessons from him. Seonghwa also starts to return others' stares, even if only to look back over his shoulder at Dongmin and his friends' jeers with his big, dark eyes, before he will look away again.
He still does not speak to anyone. Still doesn't even speak to Eden.
"If he's mute, you should've told us so, ssaem," Hongjoong scowls at Eden, when he hands in his potion for Eden's inspection. He has asked to stay later in class for this, just to give the subject of their conversation some privacy from prying, annoying ears. Hongjoong continues, "That would be enough explanation for some of them, so they'd stop bothering him."
Eden replies, disinterested half-lidded eyes inspecting Hongjoong's work. "Seonghwa-ssi can speak; he just chose not to. When I took the Witchmaster's oath, I've been forbidden to lie to anyone I took in as apprentice. And even if I told the rest that, those little bastards would find a new way to sabotage and bug Seonghwa-ssi." He puts Hongjoong's potion down. "You seem to have used fresher ingredients than the required dry ones. Good job following the steps, but your brew is flawed already from the start."
Hongjoong throws up his hands. "I can't help it! Every plant I touch just goes straight to spring mode! Take it up to Jacheongbi-nim," at Eden's raised eyebrow, Hongjoong adds respectfully, "...ssaem. Anyway, what's Seonghwa-ssi's deal? Up until now, I still can't figure out his natural element from his aura, so at least he's better than anyone else at concealing and glamor."
Most witches can recognize their fellows' element-born affinity, even without using second Vision. Eden, though specializing in air-based spells and then a little bit of everything, still exudes such earth energy that students could smell his garden on him at times. Dongmin's aura is recognizably airy. Hongjoong, he's been told, can just walk into the room for others to immediately pinpoint the Earth Goddess Jacheongbi's blessing on him.
But Seonghwa gives away no smidge of energy, nothing. He is just… there.
"Classified," Eden answers, "but I can tell you that he has affinity with water. Have you considered using imugi scale gloves to handle plant ingredients? I'll write a note that you can take to Old Kim so that he'll give you a good pair. I would say you're the opposite of Seonghwa-ssi, you still don't have restraint in your energy work. Even with a deity taking such interest in you, you'll still have to manage it, control her blessing, not let the power of the Earth run amok in abandon. I'll also incorporate that in our lessons, Hongjoong-ssi."
"I wouldn't say that it is running amok in abandon, ssaem," Hongjoong grumbles. He still accepts the note Eden gives him; yeah, a pair of imugi scale gloves might help in the long run for his handling. "But, anyway, why isn't Seonghwa-ssi talking, then?"
"Classified," Eden blasely says. "Is there anything else about the lessons that you would like to ask me, Hongjoong-ssi?"
Hongjoong purses his lips.
A knock from the door gives Eden the opening to continue on, "If not, then I will be meeting Seonghwa-ssi now. See you tomorrow for our lessons, Hongjoong-ssi."
With no lack of curiosity but also equal amount of displeasure, Hongjoong forces himself to grit out his greeting to Eden, bowing respectfully as his parents have always drilled him ("He is a respected Witchmaster, Hongjoong-ah. He will teach you better than any of us could, he will help you hide your powers from the humans."). When he goes to open the door, he finds Seonghwa standing behind it, his large eyes directly meeting Hongjoong's gaze. At once, he ducks his head, wiry hands brought forward to the front of his shirt in agitation. Hongjoong observes him for a while - his now-bowlcut of a hair, his twisting, fidgety hands, the slight height he has over Hongjoong. Retraces his memory over the slight surprise in those eyes when he finds Hongjoong's gaze on him.
"Come in, Seonghwa-ssi," Eden calls out inside the room, and Seonghwa nearly stumbles over himself walking forward, as though he is in a hurry of ridding himself of being around Hongjoong's presence.
Hongjoong steps out of the doorsill, and when he looks back, there is Eden, his usually-disinterested eyes now flat, reptilian-like, as he gazes at a Seonghwa who takes a pen and paper from Eden's desk.
Hongjoong closes the door.
"Seonghwa-ssi."
Predictably, Seonghwa freezes up, hand stilling on his chair, his entire thin body rigid with no lines of relaxation. Hongjoong thinks, rather than being a water-attuned witch, he seems more earth-attuned than even Hongjoong himself. All rammed up soil, blockage, immovable dam. (He doesn't feel like ice, no. No coldness, nothing like that biting frost. He is just enclosed around himself.)
"My name is Kim Hongjoong; I sit in front of you," Hongjoong introduces himself. He pauses, then continues, "I think it's really cool the way you mask your aura, and I've also noticed that you're a bit weak with sigils. We got our strengths and weaknesses; if you teach me how you conceal your energy-aura, I can teach you energy work basics. Win-win situation. What do you think?"
Seonghwa does not answer.
Hongjoong's eyes pore over Seonghwa's wrung hands, over his eyes darting rabbit-like to the classroom door before returning to Hongjoong's soles. Over his knuckles strained white as he grips the chair.
Two steps backwards, and there he has it. Hongjoong leans his weight on a leg as he watches Seonghwa, having given him enough room to dart out from the conversation. Yet he still doesn't move, to get away from Hongjoong, from leaving the room, though his grip on the chair has loosened enough that he seems to be only placing his hands there.
It's Hongjoong who leaves, instead.
"I'll ask again tomorrow," he says over his shoulder, glimpsing Seonghwa's bowed head turn slightly toward him at his voice. And still, he is silent.
And so Hongjoong keeps coming to Seonghwa with his proposition.
And every single time, Seonghwa does not answer.
"I know you can hear me, Seonghwa-ssi."
Seonghwa sits under the giant oak tree that Eden has planted in his backyard garden, where Hongjoong has come to learn as his usual place to study and read. It's also the only place where Dongmin and the rest will not come to bother Seonghwa.
Today, his head remains bowed to his book - Rituals Honoring Seasons: a Grimoire by Lee Soomin - one of Eden's personal collections, though Hongjoong notices that his hand has stopped flipping over the page when Hongjoong arrives. It's nothing that unusual; even when Seonghwa remains silent in the face of his question, Hongjoong has wormed his way into Seonghwa's little enclosed bubble by staying behind. As Seonghwa sits, Hongjoong reads his own book, crafts his own talisman design, practices grounding with the earth beneath him. And Hongjoong likes to think that... Seonghwa does not mind his company so much, especially with the lack of words shared between them. Now, Hongjoong is lying spread-eagled, looking up to the gentle sunlight half-pilfered by the foliage of the leaves.
Still, Hongjoong has been doing this for a while now. Can't Seonghwa give him a response? Anything?
"Seonghwa-ssi," Hongjoong begins. "I don't know why you chose not to speak anymore, or why you came here to Eden-ssaem. But... what I know, is that isolation is one of the worst and loneliest feelings someone can ever feel.
"I'm not gonna ask you again if you don't like it. But... if you can nod for yes, and then shake your head for no, I wanna ask. Do you not want me around?"
There is a slight, soft intake of breath. Hongjoong turns his head to Seonghwa's direction, finding that his entire body has become so still, as though when he holds his breath, even the air, the grass, the sunlight around him have also become suspended.
Seonghwa's bony hand clutches at the grass, sprouts of green and specks of dirt peeking between his fingers.
From the corner of his eyes, Hongjoong sees Seonghwa's head move. A tiny shake. Such a diminutive movement. Yet.
Hongjoong sits up at once, heart hammering in his chest. He stares in disbelief at Seonghwa, who seems to shrink into himself after finally, finally answering Hongjoong.
His throat feels so dry. Hongjoong swallows, willing his own heart to slow down to its regular rhythm, before he tries to answer, levelly, "Okay. Okay..."
Seonghwa's entire body seems to sigh in relief at that, as his shoulders sag, his grip loosening and his palms uncurling to merely press down on the ground.
Hongjoong's mind is afloat. Disbelieved. Excited.
He slowly lowers himself to the ground again, the back of his head on the oak root, eyes upwards to the sky, though he knows that his mind's thoughts will replace all the scenery that passes by. Replace it with his mind's eye's remembering the tiny, near-imperceptible shake that Seonghwa has given.
Okay, okay.
"May I have your hand, Seonghwa-ssi?"
Ever since that day, nod for yes or shake for no has become Hongjoong and Seonghwa's primary way of communication. Nice weather today, isn't it? A nod. Do you like forsythia flowers, Seonghwa-ssi? A nod. Can I see what you're reading today? A nod.
This time is also the same, except that Hongjoong is already holding out his hand in expectation, at Seonghwa's direction.
It takes a long time before Seonghwa finally nods, and he releases his hold on the worn-out grimoire cover - his reading for today.
Gently, Hongjoong reaches out to take Seonghwa's hand. Seonghwa has rather delicate fingers, Hongjoong realizes; elegantly defined, pretty like the willows. But he turns Seonghwa's palm upwards, the way Hongjoong's dad would divine from the fate-lines of his client's hands, except that Hongjoong traces letters on the surface with his pointer finger instead.
We can talk to each other like this, too, Seonghwa-ssi. Just take my hand next time, and you can tell me. Easy, right?
When Hongjoong releases Seonghwa's hand, he finds Seonghwa looking up for the first time in all of their interactions. Looking up and truly meeting Hongjoong's gaze with his own eyes, as large and as dark as Hongjoong remembers them to be. This time, Seonghwa does not look away, and for the first time too, Hongjoong can see- no, not only see, he can also feel the wash of Seonghwa's emotions bursting from the crack in his glamor, just like overflowing waves, too many of them swirling in his eyes to be readable, too rich in his energy-aura to be decipherable.
Ah, Hongjoong thinks. He is a water-based witch, after all.
With a grin, Hongjoong returns Seonghwa's gaze.
The first time Seonghwa addresses Hongjoong, he traced this question on the back of Hongjoong's arm.
Why did you approach me?
Seonghwa's gaze has grown bolder by then, studying Hongjoong the way a cat unnervingly sees into the distance, or the way a snake unblinkingly and fixedly stares. He is no longer as closed off as when Hongjoong first met him - in the way that Hongjoong can now guess his mood depending on the way Seonghwa purses his lips, the pleased half-curve of his eyes, the tense level of his shoulders. Hongjoong now knows more about Seonghwa; which books he prefers to read (historical and fantasy, though he reads the sign language book that Hongjoong gave him routinely), which witchery he tends to do most (potions and ritual-related spells), which food he likes (everything, but mostly meat), where he lives (a witch association lodging belonging to Eden's fellow Witchmaster friends; Seonghwa has no parents).
Seonghwa is no longer an enclosure of himself, at this point. Instead, he reminds Hongjoong of a clam; stubbornly shutting off the world, but when something manages to pry him open, he will reveal a treasure of himself.
And so, Hongjoong merely raises an eyebrow at Seonghwa.
Why? He signs back. Then he switches to write on Seonghwa's palm. You don't want me around?
Seonghwa looks up to Hongjoong, wide-eyed. He gently closes his fist as Hongjoong pulls back, his gaze dazed, Hongjoong's words rendering him stunned.
It's Hongjoong's turn to be stunned, however, when Seonghwa smiles back at him.
Soft and pretty. It is a gentle upturn of his plush lips, curving a line along his cheek, until his eyes are also smiling with him.
Hongjoong stares at him for a good while, before he smiles back.
"So, does that mean you'll finally teach me how to glamor your energy-aura?"
Seonghwa rolls his eyes so hard that Hongjoong bursts out laughing.
(He does, in fact, teach Hongjoong later.)
(He also, in fact, lets Hongjoong see his energy-aura as well; it unfurls from him with the color of night rain, light as a summer shower.
"Wow," Third Eye drawn on his forehead, Hongjoong exclaims in awe at the way Seonghwa's energy domes around both of them. "Seonghwa-yah! Why would you ever hide this? Your energy is beautiful. I kinda wish mine is as pretty as yours."
Seonghwa smiles, before he shakes his head.
No, he writes on Hongjoong's palm. I've seen. Your energy is beautiful, Hongjoong.)
It is no secret to his apprentices that Eden, as a renowned Witchmaster, has ownership to a treasure trove. Be it the true body of his dokkaebi familiar, or his family's collection of generational spells, or the actual eye of a hurricane kept inside a sealed earthenware jar; as long as the apprentices don't touch those precious items, no harm will be done.
Except that, well, something does happen.
(There is a reason why Hongjoong avoids befriending Dongmin and his friends, and seeks out Seonghwa instead.)
"It's him, Eden-seonsaengnim!" Hands hold Hongjoong's wrists, and though he struggles against their grips, another pair of hands still search through his pockets, taking away something, bringing it to the light to reveal-
"Kim Hongjoong is the thief!" It's unmistakable, the underfeather of a Sun Crow held by Dongmin with triumph. His mean eyes glitter as he stares at Hongjoong, so sure that he has gotten his chance to get rid of him.
"Why would I ever steal that!" Hongjoong hisses out.
He spares a glance to a wide-eyed Seonghwa behind him, to Eden, who looks at him calculatingly.
"He should be expelled, seonsaengnim!" Dongmin goads. "Striked from his lineage, banned from the witch association forever!"
Hongjoong would roll his eyes if only he didn't know that just as Witchmasters are bound to their apprentices, their apprentices are equally bound to honor their Witchmaster. An apprentice-thief, especially one who steals from the Witchmaster's trove, is culpable for the sanctions Dongmin has mentioned.
"Ssaem," Hongjoong turns to Eden, seeking out his eyes. "It really isn't me; I would never steal from you!"
"Shut up, Kim Hongjoong! You should be trialed-"
Eden holds up a hand, and the class quietens. He sweeps a flat gaze on Hongjoong, then onto Dongmin, before he says, "Dongmin-ssi, Hongjoong-ssi, we will settle this in my office."
Hongjoong's heart drops to the pit of his stomach, heavy like lead. Furiously, he tugs his hands off Dongmin's friends' hold, rubbing his wrist gingerly. He looks up to Seonghwa, seeing his worried eyes and wrung, anxious hands.
Don't worry, Hongjoong signs. I'll be back.
Seonghwa's eyes widen at that, but that is all Hongjoong sees before he turns away.
Yet. Before Eden can even step outside the room with Hongjoong and Dongmin, a soft voice speaks up.
"Wait."
The unfamiliar voice is nearly inaudible, as soft as it is, yet once spoken, Hongjoong feels his feet freeze, unwilling to move forward and step outside the threshold. Literally. He notices something similar happening to Eden and Dongmin, and so he turns his head back to the room, to search for the person who spoke just now.
The witch-apprentices' heads are also turned, their gazes disbelieving, staring at one singular direction. Seonghwa.
And it is only Seonghwa who is not looking at anyone, his head bowed down, eyes on the ground. Hongjoong can see how the way his entire body shakes, his hands trembling.
Then, Seonghwa takes a breath. Seems to steel himself. Looks up. His eyes linger at Hongjoong for a while, the emotions in them unreadable, before he settles his gaze at Dongmin.
He says- no. He commands, "Tell them the truth."
As though puppeteered by Seonghwa's voice, Dongmin turns towards the class, his eyes wide and terrified. He opens his mouth, and the truth spills out.
Once the dust of the fiasco settles, Hongjoong finds Seonghwa under the oak tree.
"So, siren song?"
Seonghwa flinches, his shoulder slumped down even further. Their usual nod for yes or shake for no routine loses its magic today; as though Seonghwa's speech erases all of the efforts both of them have made to reach this point. And, it sort of does; even in the witch community that slowly becomes secluded from humans, dark arts are still frowned up in both theory and practice. Siren song, a form of the dark arts, is particularly terrifying for its beguiling nature.
Hongjoong walks to where Seonghwa is, each footstep crunching dry leaves and twigs underfoot, before he crouches down a feet distance away from Seonghwa.
"Dark arts family?" Hongjoong prods further, chin on his palms.
Predictably, Seonghwa does not answer, though when Hongjoong tilts his head slightly to look, he finds Seonghwa warily gazing at him, his eyes shining in bright fear, bright plea, plainly resigned.
He slowly nods at the question, before he gives a hurried tug at Hongjoong's sleeve when Hongjoong is about to look away.
I didn't mean to hide it, his hands are shaky when he signs. I didn't mean it. Hongjoong.
"Dumbass," Hongjoong says, raising an eyebrow. "Of course you have to hide it, you didn't even have to stand up for me at class earlier."
Seonghwa looks at him helplessly.
I can make you forget, he slowly signs. If you want, everything that has happened today, I can make you forget it. Even forget me.
Hongjoong stares back at him.
"Well," he drawls, "That would be a bit inconvenient. How can I ask you to form a coven with me after we finish our apprenticeship if I forget about you?"
Seonghwa drops his hands at once, his eyes widening. His lips mouths around the word coven in definite hesitation.
Hongjoong turns his head away, his nose upturned. "Unless you don't want to be around me anymore, naturally."
He can't hold back a grin when Seonghwa engulfs him in a hug. Nodding over and over, Seonghwa's chin digs into Hongjoong's bony shoulder, his thin arms surprisingly strong as he squeezes Hongjoong in this tight hug. I do, he traces on Hongjoong's arm. I do. Hongjoong.
"Eugh," Hongjoong says, just for the sake of it. "Your skin is touching my skin. Seonghwa-yah, I'm disgusted, Seonghwa-yah."
He feels Seonghwa shake in laughter against him. When he looks up to Hongjoong, his eyes are shining in tears, and happiness.
Hongjoong, Seonghwa mouths again, and he grins.
Hongjoong basks himself in the sight, in this happiness, before he smiles back.
Notes:
next chapter is abt san :))
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