Chapter Text
Perhaps, it was all just a dream. Children usually had those: fleeting, fantastic, and almost always frivolous. Wonwoo would always disagree with his fiery eyes and icy tone. He often left the one on the other side of the conversation relenting to his childish fantasies.
He always swore that the creatures of the forest he saw when he was ten were real; clear as the sunlight that pierced through the canopies, as vibrant as the meadows where he spent the lazy summer afternoons. Their wonderful clothes shimmered with gold, silver, and precious stones. Spirits danced through the branches, skipping on the water, singing in the breeze. He was an onlooker to a parade of wonder. The sense of awe that had pierced his heart and imagination at ten remained relentless in his soul even at thirty-two.
“Reminiscing, are we, dreamer?”
Wonwoo dropped the plate he was cleaning, sinking back into the soapy waters. Images of the man with a bronze headpiece, littered with jewels, flashed in his mind. His soft smile and round eyes gazed upon him with amusement; the colors painted on the man’s skin danced in the wind and light. His countless attendants surrounded him, holding up his small palanquin that shimmered in purple and jade.
Looking behind him expectantly, he was greeted with nothing but the empty table and chairs of his family’s old house in Jinhae. He was alone, the only breathing soul in this eclectic home.
The entire family was on a trip to Kyoto for the rest of the week. Though summer vacation had already arrived, he still had his students’ grades to finish. Graduation was two days away and his department head had been like a shadow on his back, constantly hounding him for the grades he had been putting off for two weeks.
“Wonwoo-ssi…” he could hear Seungkwan’s groanings in his head. “I’m being very lenient with you because this university is very lucky to have you as a faculty member. It’s not a license for tardiness though!”
Finishing the dishes, Wonwoo went back to his small office space beside his room. In a small vase beside his desktop computer were a bouquet of flowers from ten years ago that had never wilted. The framed posters of different video games he helped develop were staring down at him from the walls as he hastily made quick work of his students’ grades. Thank heavens they all passed. Otherwise, it would have reflected badly on him, and he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Seungkwan.
His phone started ringing and he answered it on loudspeaker:
“I’m heading for the train station.”
“And that concerns me, how?” said Wonwoo, pressing the print button and watching the papers slide out.
“Are you at your house?”
“I don’t have classes anymore.” He adjusted his glasses and placed his students’ grading sheets inside a folder. “But I am heading to the university after lunch to submit my students’ grades.”
“Why don’t you just send it to Seungkwan?”
“Submitting it in person is the policy, Seokmin.”
“You’re just finding an excuse not to come with me.”
“That’s not fair.” A soft smile crept on Wonwoo’s lips as he imagined the pouting look on Seokmin’s face as his voice feigned the sound of sulking. “I can come with you on any other day. Just not today.”
He heard Seokmin huff. “You and your adult job.”
“Well, we’re not ten anymore,” said Wonwoo. “And you have a job as well.”
Not ten anymore, Wonwoo repeated in his head. Seokmin was also there that day, in the forest. He also saw that parade and palanquin. He, however, tried to be the rational one and insist when they were older that it was all just the trick of the light. It was just their imagination. Seokmin’s grandparents we’re not pleased, though. Wonwoo could still remember how their faces drained of color as he recounted to them what he and Seokmin saw.
Seokmin was never allowed to play outside after that. During high school, his parents would be waiting outside the school to drive him home. He would wear charmed bracelets and there were amulets with little tingling bells hanging from his backpack. Their classmates would often giggle and Wonwoo could feel the embarrassment heating out of Seokmin. He never really understood why Seokmin’s family was so protective of him all of a sudden.
They couldn’t really hang out except when he visits the temple Seokmin’s family takes care of. It was during those high school evenings and summer days that Wonwoo taught himself how to program video games. He watched internet videos, even used what little savings he had from his allowance to pay for a short summer course on making video games. All of it paid off because by the time of their junior year, he had made his own little indie game.
Seokmin was the first person he asked to play it. His friend was a little too emotional about, hugging him tightly that night when he stayed over at the temple. Wonwoo could still remember feeling his heart swelling up three times its size and a tingling warmth spreading from his chest up to his neck. Seokmin nuzzled up onto his shoulder, his hair tickling Wonwoo’s chin. He smelled really nice—like that of lavender and sweet-smelling oils. Wonwoo didn’t want to let go. Maybe they could stay like that for the rest of the night. Then, he felt something swirling in his stomach: a weird sensation that was so desperate to come out. That’s when he realized—
“Won! Are you still there?”
He liked Seokmin. He liked him very, very much.
“Yeah, I’m here,” replied Wonwoo. “I’m just…getting ready to leave the house.”
“You really can’t come?”
He just can’t resist him. “Okay, fine. I’ll just drop this off at the faculty and then I’ll meet up with you. Happy?”
He could feel Seokmin grinning through the phone. “Very happy.”
Wonwoo grabbed his keys and as he was opening the door, a small gust of wind swirled around him. After closing the door, he felt like a soft hand caressing the nape of his neck. Then, he heard a gentle laugh.
“Who’s there?”
There was no answer.
***
There were more people in town than usual. Probably because it’s summer and the tourists have come flocking by the train station and the river to see the cherry blossoms. While driving, Wonwoo couldn’t shake the feeling of that hand on his neck. As he parked outside their department building, he saw a tall man standing in the middle of the field, looking up at the sprawling tree with much keen interest.
He isn’t usually one to strike up a conversation but there was something about the man—how he was wearing an overcoat in the middle of April and was dressed too formally to be a tourist—that drew him closer.
“Hi,” said Wonwoo. “I can’t help but notice you staring at the tree.”
“Apologies,” replied the man. “I was feeling a bit sentimental.”
“Are you an alumnus?”
The man directed his gaze at Wonwoo; a small, amused smile had just started fading from his lips. “You could say that. Perhaps, yes, that seems like an appropriate deduction.”
“Which batch are you from? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
“I’ve spent a long time abroad, returning only a few days ago to this lovely place.”
“Here for the festival?”
“In part.” The man glanced to his right. “I’m afraid I must take my leave. I am currently in search of someone to no avail.”
The way he spoke sounded old-fashioned and formal, almost archaic.
“Oh, maybe I can help? Are they a student here? Faculty?”
The man shook his head. “I dare not take your time, but I am grateful for your offer. I must look for them on my own.”
“Okay then. It was nice meeting you…uh…”
“How rude of me for the lack of introductions! My name is Mingyu.”
“Well, Mingyu…I’m Wonwoo.”
Wonwoo offered to shake hands and Mingyu reluctantly reciprocated. A firm grip but quick to recede. Mingyu slightly lowered his head and headed the opposite direction. Wonwoo’s gaze lingered on the fading tall figure in the distance. He could feel a strange aura around Mingyu. The same kind he felt in the forest. There was no doubt in his mind that it was magic. If he told Seokmin, he would tell him to stop daydreaming and imagining things.
He headed for the faculty room. The entire room was void of teachers except for Seungkwan’s office where his department head groaned in agony upon him entering the office.
“You. Are. LATE!”
“Sorry,” Wonwoo smiled sheepishly. “I got held up talking with some alumnus by the big tree. Says he was looking for someone but declined my offer to help.” He pulled out the folder containing the grading sheets. “Here are the grades—”
“Finally!” Seungkwan sounded like he was going to cry. “I hope this will be the last time this happens, okay, Wonwoo?”
Wonwoo laughed. “I’ll try.”
“The graduation committee is at the auditorium right now. I think we should over there too and—”
“Yeah…about that…”
Seungkwan narrowed his eyes. “You and Seokmin are going on a date again, aren’t you?”
“It’s not a date!” Wonwoo’s cheeks burned bright red. “And what do you mean, again?!”
“Fine. Go on your date,” said Seungkwan, sighing.
“It’s not a date.”
“Whatever, just go before I change my mind.”
He dashed out of the office, jogging back to his car. As he was heading down the hallway, another laugh echoed in his ear:
“What’s the rush, dreamer?”
Wonwoo stopped, nearly slipping down the stairwell. His glasses almost fell off his face. Memories of the palanquin and the forest kept flashing back. He was running, hand gripping tightly onto Seokmin who was also running beside him. A huge, black shadow was chasing them as the wind in the forest turned frigid and the dewdrops crystallized like icicles. The water in the river turned murky black and the small spirits that skidded over the water started drowning. He could hear cries of agony deep into the fog that was slowly swallowing the forest whole—
His phone was ringing.
“Where are you?”
It was Seokmin.
Wonwoo sat down the top of the stairwell, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I still had to talk to Seungkwan, you know. I can’t just drop it there and leave.”
“Well, I’m at the train station, okay?”
“Alright. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
***
Wonwoo tried hard to hide the worried feeling he had when he arrived at the train station. Today was a strange day and he didn’t want to ruin it for Seokmin by talking to him about it. Maybe it really is just my imagination, he thought.
Amidst the crowd, Seokmin was hard to miss: a tall, lanky man with a pointed nose, wearing a t-shirt of his favorite rock band that’s been tucked into his cream-colored trousers. He had this boyish charm in his eyes and smile. Maybe that’s why Wonwoo had fallen for him, but that’s a secret he was willing to bring with him to the grave.
“Finally! I thought you were gonna ditch me!” said Seokmin.
“You really think I’d do that?” said Wonwoo.
“I hope not!” Seokmin laughed.
Wonwoo noticed that Seokmin wasn’t wearing any of his bracelets and his bag didn’t have the amulets. “Where are your charms?”
“I left them at home.”
“Aren’t your grandparents gonna get mad at you for taking them off?”
“It’s just for this afternoon. Nothing’s gonna happen.” Seokmin gave him a reassuring smile then grabbed his hand. “Honestly, I’m sick and tired of them hovering around my neck all the time. C’mon, I saw a really cool shop down by the river!”
The rest of the afternoon was a blissful existence. Running through the crowd, hopping from shop to shop, they ate till they were full. Seokmin bought another one of those paper lanterns that he always bought every festival. Sitting on an empty bench, they gazed at the falling pink petals, dancing in the wind like little ballerinas.
The sun had set in the horizon and the night crept in. Lanterns all over the streets glowed warmly, casting a soft light over the streets and the waters of the river. They were walking aimlessly among the cobbled streets, casually talking about the earlier months of the year. Seokmin had been going back and forth between Jinhae and Busan because of the family business. They hardly had time to go for walks like this so perhaps, in Wonwoo’s mind, it was the reason why Seokmin had been so keen on them meeting up during his free time.
“They want me to find someone,” said Seokmin unannounced. Wonwoo’s heart stopped for a moment. “With me taking over the business in maybe a few years, my mom said it’s best that I have someone who can be, like, an emotional support and life partner…or something like that. Whatever. I wasn’t really listening.”
“And do you?” said Wonwoo.
“Hmm?”
“Do you feel like you need to find that special someone right now?”
“I don’t know,” said Seokmin quietly. “Right now, I’m pretty content with how things are flowing. Plus, I don't think I'm mature enough to be part of that sort of relationship.”
“You underestimate yourself.”
“Huh.” Seokmin went quiet for a while and then said, “How about you, Won, do you ever think about marriage and all that stuff?”
Wonwoo shook his head. “I don’t think that sort of thing is for me.”
“Why not? You have a stable job, you take care of your family now that your parents are gone, and you’re kinda good-looking enough.”
“I feel like that last one was a thinly veiled insult.”
Seokmin chuckled. “It’s not—it’s a compliment!”
“Yeah, right. As if I’d fall for that—”
“Enjoying yourself, dreamer?”
The lights from the lanterns were suddenly extinguished. A creeping darkness crawled from the dead of the dusk. The air felt cold, almost life-draining, and the wailing forest voices from ten years ago echoed in Wonwoo’s ears. A heavy fog started rolling beneath their feet.
“Min, are you seeing this—” He was alone. “Seokmin? Seokmin?!”
A mischievous laugh pierced through the wailing. From the fog, a shadowy figure emerged with fox eyes and amber pupils. “Looking for your friend?” The figured raised his arm to reveal an unconscious Seokmin that it was holding on the neck.
“W-Who are you?” said Wonwoo.
“Don’t remember me?” The fox creature looked at him curiously. “Human memory is such a fleeting thing. But the dokkaebi remember…we remember the wayward children who come to our forest to steal.”
“Steal? We didn’t steal anything!”
“You, no. But him…” The dokkaebi glanced at Seokmin. “He took some of the everlasting flowers of the lady gumiho. Such insolence!”
Wonwoo remembered the flowers beside his computer. Seokmin gave them to him after they had ran from the forest. He said he picked them up from the meadow in the middle of the forest.
“I still have those flowers. What if I gave them back? Will you let Seokmin go?”
The dokkaebi laughed. “Give them back? What is the point? The lady gumiho is already dead because of what your friend did!”
“Seokmin didn’t know! He was ten for fuck’s sake!”
A loud clap reverberated through the mist. Another figure came out of the fog.
“It has been two hundred years and you still have not changed, Hoshi.”
It was Mingyu.
The dokkaebi named Hoshi growled. “This is none of your business, sorcerer!”
“Au contraire, I have been tirelessly searching for you all day. Unfortunately for you, this is my business. That man’s family has hired me for this very situation.”
“The children of the forest has laws!” said Hoshi.
“Why did you not bring this to the attention of the warden beforehand?” said Mingyu. “Had you done so, this matter would have been resolved promptly.”
“Seungcheol doesn’t care about the dokkaebi.” A fire of anger lit up in Hoshi’s eyes. “He would have not heard our pleas. He would not care if all of us died.”
“That is a grave accusation against the warden.”
“The dokkaebi of Jinhae will have their own justice,” said Hoshi. “With or without the decision of the warden.”
Mingyu frowned. “Then you leave me no choice.”
The ground underneath Mingyu’s feet glowed an eerie purple. With a wave of his hand, large ropes of energy came flinging towards Hoshi but the dokkaebi remained still, his grip on Seokmin’s neck tightened. A large tail, flaming a deep blue, protruded behind him and swatted away the ropes of energy.
“Is that the best you can do, sorcerer?” said Hoshi.
Mingyu smirked. “You of all creatures should know that I play with my food.”
Purple spikes shot out from the ground, causing Hoshi to stumble backwards and losing his hold on Seokmin. In a flash, Mingyu had zipped towards the dokkaebi. He flipped his wrist and sent the creature tumbling across the cobbled ground. Mingyu quickly took Seokmin and retreated beside Wonwoo.
“Give up, Hoshi,” said Mingyu. “I have bested you.”
Hoshi laughed and revealed a yellow orb floating in his hand. “Think again.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened. “You—”
“We will have our revenge,” said Hoshi. “And you can do nothing to stop it.”
Mingyu tried to run towards Hoshi but the dokkaebi had already disappeared into the fog.
Wonwoo sat Seokmin up and watched as the color was draining from his skin. Mingyu pulled out a small talisman from his coat pocket. He lifted up Soekmin’s shirt and placed it on his chest.
“W-What are you doing?” said Wonwoo.
“Preventive measures,” said Mingyu. He mumbled in a language Wonwoo could not understand and a small cloud surrounded Seokmin’s body, lifting him up from the ground. “We need to leave before everyone regains consciousness.”
Before Wonwoo could ask any question, Mingyu sat him down on the cloud beside Seokmin and they were hurtling through the streets of Jinhae. People all around them were frozen in time, unmoving like stone statues. Wonwoo looked down at Seokmin: he looked like he was sleeping, hair dancing in the swift breeze, but the color of his body continued to disappear.
“Will he be okay?” asked Wonwoo.
Mingyu remained silent as they rose up towards the temple.
“Please just tell me something…anything…”
Mingyu sighed. “It appears your friend has angered the creatures of the forest. Because of his deeds, the sacred gumiho that lives in the forest of Jinhae lost its life. Now, they have required a payment that will satiate their grief.”
“You mean that yellow orb thing…”
“Yes.”
“What is it? What did they take from Seokmin?”
Mingyu stared at him dead in the eyes.
“They have taken his soul.”