Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

[2nd Floor, Evankhell’s Hell]

“It might be a good idea to start hiding that actually.”

“Huh?” Bam blinked, looking up over his meal to find Khun staring down at the mark on his wrist, having paused in the middle of eating, his face fixed in a concentrated expression. “But I thought you said this kind of thing was normal?” Granted, it had taken him a bit to really understand it, that a little symbol on your skin meant that there was ‘someone special’ out there for him. He was still grappling with the specifics of that (of someone other than Rachel), but apparently all regulars got one too.

Khun sighed, running fingers through his hair, “I did say that, yes. Though having the King’s symbol on you is liable to attract more attention, not all of it good.”

“Although, it isn’t really the right color,” A voice interrupted, and Bam jumped in surprise as Ms. Endorsi stood over their table, looking down on him thoughtfully with her arms crossed. He vaguely heard Khun muttering ‘speak of the devil’ nearby as the princess continued speaking. “Though If you were faking it, that would be too obvious of a mistake to make…”

Starting to feel anxious and a little defensive, Bam flushed and covered the mark with his hand. Maybe Mr. Khun had a point. “I’m not faking anything!” He said hurriedly, “It just appeared last week!”

The princess smirked a little, waving him off, “Relax, I’m not accusing you or anything. Although…” She leaned in conspiratorially–drawing a disgruntled noise from Khun next to him–and spoke as though she were letting him in on some big secret, “I’m sure you think it's nice and romantic, don’t you? Being fated for some forbidden love story with the royal family or something?”

“L-love story!?” Bam blushed harder. He honestly hadn’t given any thought to that possibility.

“Don’t mess with him like that. You and I both know it doesn’t have to be romantic,” Khun cut in. 

That much he was aware of. When Khun had explained it to him the other day, he’d rolled up the sleeve of his white shirt in solidarity when Bam was confused about it. The other showed him the Khun Family Crest that he bore as a soulmark–with its colors washed out and bisected by a white star. He explained that the marks could come from anyone who was or would become extremely important to one’s life, and could even come from family like it was for him. 

(Of course, the family origin wasn’t really an option for Bam.)

Endorsi just huffed and crossed her arms, "Well, I'm just saying that's usually what it means."

Bam looked away as they went over it, tracing the symbol with his other hand. The triple eye mark was stark on his skin, in a vibrant yellow color that didn't at all match the fancy pin in Ms.Endorsi's hair. It was pretty, but he still didn’t know what to think about it. 

They’d called it the Crest of Zahard, the King of the tower and the Empire within. That concept was still a little nebulous to Bam, who still barely understood how the tower worked in general, but he knew enough to get that this man ruled over it. Was what Endorsi was saying true? Did that mean he had some connection to someone in the family? But Zahard’s symbol was crimson, not yellow. What significance did that hold?

And he found himself wondering what Rachel would think of all this if he got the chance to show her soon. Did this mean that she had one too? (Someone other than him? He was surprised–and a little confused–by how much that bothered him.) Bam wished he could ask her about it, since this was all new to both of them, but with Rachel still avoiding him (as "Michelle Light"), he wasn't sure how to approach the subject. He couldn’t force her to talk if she didn't want to yet, but there was only so much imposed separation Bam could take before he started to get anxious and desperate. 

Still, should he really cover it up?

It was supposed to be something special, something that meant he could find a sense of belonging in. Even if his friends were wary about what that symbol meant, Bam was still growing attached to a promise he barely understood.

He hoped that Rachel wouldn't mind; they'd always only just had each other until the Tower. But maybe they could help each other, find their special people together? If Rachel was insistent about going up the Tower to see her stars, maybe there really could be a common goal for them?

In his head, Bam thought that even then–with the mark–things didn't really have to change that much.

(That was how he justified it all to himself.)

In less than a month, he'd realize that he was very wrong. 

Everything was guaranteed to change. 

It's been a long time since the mark had gone uncovered for any length of time. 

Jue Viole Grace couldn’t afford to worry about some little mark on his arm. Not anymore. He didn't linger over it any longer, not intentionally at least, only giving the yellow a cursory glance before hiding it beneath wrist wraps or bandages. Burying it.

He used to wonder, in the early days after his Fall, if the powers that be that gave him that soulmark knew Rachel would betray him. That was why his mark could never be her's. 

But then his doubts would fester up again and prevent him from considering her again.

Although he wasn't sure how many people in FUG knew about his mark, his teacher, Hwaryun, and Hansung Yu knew what he had; the latter had forced him to show it to them early on. The blonde Ranker had actually looked surprised, (seeing something he hadn't expected) and Jinsung had given him odd looks for days afterward. 

Viole thought he might understand. After all, there was some irony in a FUG Slayer candidate bearing a royal soulmark. And both of them seemed to be in agreement that keeping it hidden was the smart thing to do. But at the same time there were strange hints, things that gave Viole the impression that they knew who it belonged to. He ended up brushing it off; even if Hansung knew, the man would never tell him unless there was a benefit to it. It didn't really make a difference. 

Viole was little more than a weapon these days; the soulmark may as well not exist. It wasn't as though he could approach them with the claws of FUG tight around him.

It was Jinsung who taught him more about how it worked, and at the time Viole didn't know if he was grateful or not (what the point of knowing would be). But he forced himself to listen anyway.

"No one in the know is going to threaten your soulmate's life, I can promise that much," the man offered. But Viole only tightened the wrap on his wrist and said nothing. Jinsung sighed, seemingly understanding his hesitation to trust, "I do mean that. Lord Luslec and the elders know better. Even the ones that don't care…know better than to inflict that kind of detriment on you."

The silence stretched onward.

Jinsung gave the twice-bitten boy a weary look and proceeded to roll up his left sleeve. Viole blinked in surprise, his eyes finding an indented black brand marring his teacher's upper arm. It was impossible to tell what the mark used to look like, but that didn't stop the dread from pooling in his gut from seeing it. "This is what happens when your soulmate dies," the man said simply. "There isn't a feeling like it in the world. It breaks you. Puts you out of commission for…a long while. And afterwards, you're never the same." Jinsung's dark eyes met his student's dully. "They need you. And there isn't a single elder in FUG stupid enough to threaten such a thing. So don't worry too much about your other half."

“Even…even if it’s the K–”

“It’s not him,” Jinsung interrupted firmly, “Luslec knows who His soulmate is, and it’s not you.”

Viole nodded, rubbing his wrist. He wanted to ask…a question that lingered for him from the first moment he found out what the mark was, what it meant. "How would I even know? They don't usually match each other, do they?"

His teacher's expression softened, "They don't, unless you’re very lucky; you have their mark, and they have yours." He pulled his sleeve back down, obscuring the blackened scar. Viole tried his best not to follow the movement with his eyes; it was hard not to look at it. "It may be hard for you to believe, but you'll know the moment you see it. I can't accurately describe the feeling for you, Viole. There’s nothing like it, but you won't be able to mistake it for anything else. You’ll simply know."

He was right, it was hard to believe, but Jinsung would know better, so he tried not to question it. 

Besides, Viole couldn’t help but wish that he never ended up meeting them. After everything, what he was forced to be, he almost felt like…he didn’t even deserve it. Did FUG’s weapon need a soulmate, really? And…even if the organization didn’t want to kill his soulmate, they could still hurt them in other ways, or threaten his other precious friends to prevent him from meeting them. 

So Viole put it out of mind. 

His soulmate couldn’t be threatened if he never bonded with them.

It didn’t matter that they tended to be drawn together (because they were meant to change each other’s lives; Viole had had enough of that already), it was better this way.

Floor after Floor, he focused only on climbing, fighting, learning, (failing other Regulars whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time). It was all he could do to protect his friends, to avoid a fate that could only end up bringing pain to both parties. Viole settled, and faded. 

A haze fell over him as time went on, dulling the regret and hesitation that would normally go into what he was doing. The shock of the Regulars failed to reach him the way it once did. 

But even that wasn't meant to last. 

It seemed as though his path was meant to change again on the 20th Floor, in ways he couldn’t have begun to predict. 

Something gleamed on the ground as Viole stepped out of the bath, drawing his attention when his thoughts were still boiling with memories of a certain swordsman whose honor he might have to avenge. The candidate moved closer, bending down to pluck a ring from the floor, blood red and cool against his fingers. As his thumb slid across it, Viole could see the royal, triple-eye symbol staring back at him. He hadn’t noticed there was an inscription before, but there had been a Regular in the previous test wearing a red ring… 

Very suddenly, it felt like the haze was lifting from his mind. 

And then, when he reentered the changing room to find the owner in question rifling through his belongings, it instantly got so much worse. 

The blonde Regular (Wangnan Ja, his mind supplied from the previous test amid recollections of panic and pleading) hadn’t yet redressed, and thus the large mark on his left shoulder was openly visible in his line of sight. The mark was an elegant, black swallowtail butterfly, as large as a grown man’s handprint, with the left wing stretched enough to trail delicately over his collarbone. Viole inhaled sharply upon seeing it, and all of his focus narrowed down to that one solitary point. 

‘That’s Mine.’ The heavy, doubtless declaration in his head left no question. Jinsung had been right about him just… knowing immediately. He could feel the mark underneath his wet wraps tingling. Something inside him was itching and thrumming with foreign, pent-up energy. Despite his previous determination to never actuate the bond, Viole was filled with the sudden instinct to reach over and touch it, even if he knew that the consequences of that were more than he could take.

“Are you looking for this?” Viole interrupted his own wandering thoughts by holding the ring aloft. 

Any inclination of coming clean about the bond died the moment that the other recognized him. Yellow eyes flickered down to the ring in his hand, tense to the core, “Where did you…?” Viole knew that he had intentionally made himself threatening as a way of clearing out Regulars he needed to fail, but it didn’t feel as jarring as when he was faced with Wangnan’s anxiety and fear. 

He couldn’t let him know. If anything, Viole was more inclined to drive him even further away. After all, wasn’t that safer for everyone?

“It was on the ground when I walked in. But this symbol…this is the crest of Zahard, isn’t it?”

Wangnan nervously tried to sidestep it with an excuse, a lie made on the spot. It wasn’t a very good one, and Viole wasn’t fooled by it in the slightest. Maybe if he were a little more naive, or a little more ignorant to what it meant, he would’ve just brushed it off. But the mark on his wrist was proof enough that the ring held significance beyond what he was saying, and Wangnan’s insistent stare made it clear that he desperately wanted it back even if he was too scared to dare to fight Viole for it. 

Viole tossed it back the moment he could, “Be careful not to lose it. It looks precious.” He walked away, pursued by the angry voice of a Regular, and feeling the weight of Wangnan’s surprised stare on his back. 

With any luck (or misfortune), this would sever their connection for good.

As it turned out, Wangnan Ja did not get the memo.

“Viole, please…help me.”

The would-be Slayer’s will crumbled in the face of his grief.

Viole entered the 20th Floor quietly, with nothing but his thoughts for company, and with no expectation for a change in his trajectory.

He left the 20th Floor with a newly-made team of eight, varied and talkative, and full of life. He’d been forcefully pulled into their orbit and had not the will to extricate himself. All the while delicately dancing around the presence of his (sunny, charismatic) soulmate, close enough to touch, if he dared. 

He would not dare. 

They began to settle into something almost domestic, painful in its normality. There were groceries to be managed and chores to be done, a rented home to be kept in shape. Although not all of them were friendly to him at first (he could name Miss Ehwa and Prince in particular), most of them were at least polite to him and grateful for his help in giving them a place to stay. And then there was little Miseng and Wangnan, who were kinder to him; who saw something in Viole that he no longer saw in himself.

He tried not to think about it too closely. Viole still didn’t want to reveal his secret. 

Even if he was kind and accepting–no, especially if he was–Wangnan shouldn’t be tied to someone like him. Surely no one “needed” a soulmate.

(He ignored the voice in his head telling him that Wangnan deserved to make that choice himself.)

And, on the 21st Floor, Viole met Hwaryun and his master again.

They carefully sidestepped Miss Ehwa’s aggression when he made his move and accompanied him back to his team. Viole remembered being afraid that something would happen to them, if Jinsung was disappointed with his team (they might have picked him, rather than the other way around, but he was already coming to like them, getting attached). He felt a wallowing in his gut, wondering if he’d have to reveal his connection to Wangnan just to stop his master from hurting them. 

But thankfully, his new team had managed to win Jinsung’s approval through being “fun and interesting,” which few would ever expect of a FUG teacher. Viole went to bed quietly relieved; he really did want them to live and stay together with him, even if it wasn’t for very long. 

Not every team formed off the 20th stayed together he knew. It was a test for forming teams, not really for keeping them. But in this case, they did. 

Not just for the quieter times, but the destructive ones as well. When Viole found himself facing down an opponent whose power made him look like nothing in comparison, they chose to stay and fight by his side anyway. And there was no hesitation to put his life on the line, not just for the sake of a test he had to complete, but a little girl who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Viole was bedridden after that for some time, covered in wounds. He may be able to heal quicker than others, but it wasn’t enough to completely erase his convalescence. But at the same time, he was happy that he managed to protect Miseng, and that in spite of everything, they’d still passed the test. Wangnan told him everything at his bedside when he brought his dinner, still looking overwhelmed that they’d been able to meet Urek of all people (and that he’d chosen to let them go with the flower they needed). Viole was exhausted from the healing, but he stayed awake and listened along anyway, enthralled by Wangnan’s storytelling. It was impossible not to pay attention to him (especially with what he knew), the shine in his eyes, and the excited draw of his voice. 

Viole liked listening to him. 

And he’d have more time to do so. 

Jinsung left him with team Sweet & Sour, leaving a message with the group before disappearing back into the darkness, apparently trusting his teammates to look after him. It felt nice, to be given that consideration. The path was opened for them to keep climbing up together.

Their ups and downs notwithstanding, even the members who were uncertain with him warmed to Viole after the 21st Floor test. They trusted him wholly, not just to watch their backs in a fight, or plan for a complicated test, but also to do something as simple as to share a meal with him at the table. The fear that pervaded from behind associated with an organization like FUG falling by the wayside. He'd missed this feeling, this belonging, something that was thought long lost. 

For two years they soothed his loneliness. Two years Viole spent waking with the sensation of something light and content in his chest (there were moments where he felt tempted, the promise of a soulmate close enough to touch almost more than he could bear. A feeling that came in waves.)

Wangnan laughed and joked, slinging an arm over his shoulder. He encouraged the team, leading them into danger, even when he struggled and panicked. After the years that Viole spent with FUG, it felt like a dream, one that he didn't want to end. Even if his soulmate didn't know, living together with him became a light in the darkness (yellow sunshine for a yellow mark) that had become his life. It was enough that he was satisfied with not pushing the boundaries for something more, even if it could make him happier. 

He didn’t trust himself enough to try.

-

Chapter Text

[28th Floor Test]

Over time, it became Viole’s role to protect the team leader. 

It wasn’t something that anyone specifically asked him to do, nor was it something he verbally volunteered for. But as time went on, and the Tests grew rougher, Viole found himself moving to Wangnan’s aid without even thinking about it. Almost through instinct. And though no one really discussed it, some members of the team knew to expect Viole to shift targets to whatever enemy was in Wangnan’s general vicinity, Akraptor and Horyang in particular catching onto his actions.

He wondered sometimes, if he would be this drawn to him had he never seen Wangnan’s mark. Or maybe nothing would have changed, and Viole simply wouldn’t have noticed why his thoughts would turn in that direction. How strong was the hold that “fate” really had over him? 

It was hard to be concerned about that though, not when his mind was more taken from sparing his soulmate from harm.

On the 28th Floor Test, Wangnan had fashioned a strategy to take down the enemy team, setting a trap to use Ms. Ewha’s flames as a targeted bomb to take them out in one fell swoop. Meanwhile, the blonde had planned to use the chaos to slip past them and unlock the victory chest with the key they spotted. It was a pretty clever plan, but the problem was that they hadn’t managed to lure all of them away. And, to make matters even worse, they’d lost contact with Wangnan in the process.

Viole doubled back and followed after him after Sweet & Sour had split up the enemy team, catching sight of the opposing fisherman heading in Wangnan’s direction, quickly realizing that only one member of the team needed his assistance. The one who was all on his own. It was enough for him to pour energy into his legs, rushing across the cover of trees before anything could go horribly wrong. As it turned out, it wasn’t simply the fisherman that had chosen to tail Wangnan, but also the wave controller, a flame user. A bubble of anxiety jumped in his chest at the realization.

“–you crazy bastard!” Flying sparks arced through the treeline, Viole catching the blonde’s shout at the same time. He only had mere seconds to spare.

Thankfully, Viole was more than capable of making that time.

He launched in from the green, sweeping his shinsu in an arc to disperse his opponent’s flames. He landed in front of Wangnan, putting himself in between them, sizing up the new threat. It didn’t matter if he had to talk both of them on alone, he’d do so without hesitation to win (to protect him).

“Viole!” Wangnan rushed to him on his knees, in a relieved desperation, “You came! Where were you?” Viole couldn't respond; he willed the flush from his face as Wangnan clung to his legs like he was some kind of savior.

(Wasn’t he?)

The blonde de-tangled himself as the flame user (from the Blitz Family?) moved to strike back, taunting Viole in the process. The Slayer candidate tuned his words out, focusing on dodging a barrage of both knife attacks and flame shinsu, jolting with some surprise when an additional bolt of baang came out of nowhere, singeing a line across his torso. 

“Viole, are you okay!?” Wangnan started forward, only to be blocked when Viole thrust out an arm to keep him back. “That bastard can control three baangs!”

“Surprised?” The redhead smirked, wreathing his hands with fire, “This your first time seeing three?”

Well, as long as it was only three he had to worry about.

Viole said nothing as he pummeled the flame user with five baangs at once, flattening them to the ground where he’d no longer be a threat to his teammate. (Which Wangnan took clear satisfaction from.) But at the same time, his eyes flickered to the fisherman, the black-haired man who’d done nothing but watch through the entire fight, who’s expression was amused instead of concerned.

It was at that point that the rest of Sweet & Sour arrived on the scene, making the teams so horribly outmatched. There was nothing that the last two could do besides give up the game. The scarred man laughed, tossing the key to Wangnan with a mocking statement, “Too bad. We would’ve won this game if your teammates hadn’t gotten here.”

“What?” Wangnan almost sneered at him, “Are you trying to say that you could beat Viole?”

“Well…if you want to see him crying and begging me to let him go, I can show you. Scared of your knight in shining armor getting beat?” He ignored the blonde’s noise of outrage, turning to Viole challengingly, “What do you say, Slayer nominee? If you lose, your team forfeits. How about it?”

Viole refused immediately. He had no interest in fighting when the Test was already won, however much the man chose to provoke Wangnan. 

He was just relieved that the blonde wasn’t hurt. And that he hadn’t shown that fear openly.

Nothing else mattered in that moment.

After the Test was over (and the team collected their reward of sweet treats), Wangnan found him on the walk back to the entrance, his face brilliant with another one of his iconic grins. “Viole! Wait up a mo’! Wanted to thank you for what happened back there. You really saved my bacon.”

Viole hummed a little, averting his eyes (avoiding his brilliance so he would say nothing more), “We’re teammates. I did what anyone would have done.”

“Nah, you don’t need to play it down like that,” Wangnan said, still smiling. “In fact, I have something for you.” He held up a colorful package, one of the pastries taken from their victory stash. Viole hadn’t seen this one before, some kind of puffy bread sweet, stuffed with cream. He cocked his head curiously, tempted by the delicious-looking pastry in spite of how he’d previously thought to refuse. “It’s an eclair, expensive brand too. Thought I’d save it for you before Prince got ahold of it.”

He hesitated on the gift, and Wangnan took the opportunity to unwrap it and press it into his hands, his fingers brushing Viole’s fingers as he pulled away.

Viole stared at the pastry for a moment before taking a bite, his eyes widening at the taste.

The whole walk back, he hid his smile in the food as Wangnan rambled, the blonde’s hand relaxing on his shoulder, enjoying the intimacy and the gift.

Both of them just as sweet.

After the 28th Floor test, though, he lost them again.

Viole stared at his new “teammates” coldly, and in one of the few times under the yoke of FUG, felt anger instead of misery. 

They'd taken his team (his sunshine) away from him and could've killed his first real friend, and if that weren't enough crimes to handle, press-ganged several more people into service. Novick and Ran were unavoidable if he wanted to keep them alive (for Mr. Khun’s sake as well), but coercing Horyang just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time was a bridge too far. So in the first few days with them, Viole spent between grief and pain, clinging to the tentative hope that Khun had survived.

(No. Determination. He had to trust that the man was alright. He knew that Khun was strong enough to survive, but it was the thought that Viole couldn’t scare him away before he got hurt…)

It was one thing for FUG to ruin his life, but did they have to ruin everyone else's as well?

He didn’t even know them. Viole had never heard of the name ‘Reflejo’ from his Master or Hansung, and they seemed rather ignorant to the mark he hid in constancy. But even if they weren’t part of the same faction he knew, they were still undoubtedly FUG, and he couldn’t yet risk the possibility of rebellion when word might still get back to the people who really held the chains.

He spent as much time as possible with Horyang and Mr. Khun’s teammates, trying to alleviate his situation just the slightest bit. Tasting freedom made him more resentful of FUG's control than before, and he didn’t hide his distaste of Reflejo, his new jailer. He only hoped that Khun wasn’t hurt too badly. 

It was one of those days, the very day before they were scheduled to ascend to the 30th Floor, where his closeness to the so-called Devil had consequences. The “thorn” FUG gave him had damaged his wraps, and they happened to run into each other when Viole was in the process of replacing them. Revealing it was never something he would have done on purpose, but in hindsight, he was glad that it was Horyang who caught him. The man who demanded an answer for his victimhood before the Hand of Arlene, and saw them as his first family, would never sell him out. 

It was the first time that any of Viole’s team caught a glimpse of it, despite the fact that most of them had shown their marks off at some point or another; Wangnan had even suggested such an event, as a ‘bonding session.’ Horyang’s dark eyes fell on the mark quietly and nonjudgmentally. He said nothing about the iconic and familiar royal shape, instead only asking, “Do you know who it's from?”

In any other instance, Viole would've said no, but at this stage, what was the point? They were in a similar boat now, and he knew that the other man wouldn't tell them anything. “It belongs to Wangnan,” He said simply, thinking of the black butterfly imprinted on his skin.

Horyang looked surprised for a moment, before he exhaled slowly, saying, “He doesn't know.” It was not a question. 

Viole shook his head, “I thought I was protecting him.”

His companion seemed thoughtful at first, before speaking up, “When you get out of here, you should tell him.” His voice was firm, but the would-be slayer still felt amused by his sense of optimism in spite of their situation. He wasn’t sure if he could. 

“What about your soulmate, Mr. Horyang?” Viole asked him in a murmur, “Would you feel the same if you were in my shoes?”

“I probably would have made the same mistake,” The man said sadly. It was enough to strike Viole into silence. Was he right? Was his silence a mistake he'd come to regret?

Viole didn't have an answer for him that day.

And, in no time at all, he was given no time to think about it. Their forcefully-made team had passed the 29th Floor test and advanced up to the 30th, the destination that Reflejo had been so insistent upon reaching. The decision had already been made (without his input naturally); they were to participate in the Workshop Battle and claim the prize offered at the end of it.

The events that took place only in the first few days was a rapid-fire that only grew more hectic, the result of a surprise test that only caused him more trouble. 

First Viole met Ms. Endorsi again, tracking him down in the sewers when he wanted to be anywhere else. He came very close to losing his mask to her at that point, trapped between a rock and a hard place, her anger very akin to a raging tank. His wrist was still smarting after catching her surprise attack. Then, after just barely managing to slip away, he was reunited with Mr. Shibisu's team in a way he never wanted, on the other side of a battlefield, trying his best to fight off their clever, talented team while trying to protect his own and not reveal himself to them. 

Viole was shocked to find that he had almost failed in that regard. 

Mr. Shibisu had become a dangerous man when he was serious. Dangerous and a driven leader, willing and able to resort to ambushes and poison to accomplish his mission.

Viole fought them off as best as he could–having resorted to using the weapon FUG provided for him (as much as he didn't want to) and sent the rest up using the one-shot gun, a teammate saved and still on edge. His grip on the gun was white-knuckled and tense. It was too close for comfort.

After the battle, Horyang found him and told him what he probably should've expected: Team Sweet and Sour had followed him up to the 30th, clearly hot on his trail. He'd met Wangnan there, under the complex, asking him to come home, to be a team again. The man had refused, still believing it wasn’t yet a choice that he could take, but there was something else he had to wonder. “Did you tell him?” Viole couldn’t resist the urge to ask when he finished his story, “...about me?”

Horyang studied him with solemn dark eyes and shook his head, “It's not my secret to tell. But…I still believe you should do so. They miss you…he misses you.” The large man looked down at his hand while he said this; it was obvious that it wasn’t just the would-be Slayer he was referring to.

Viole couldn’t look him in the eye. Not yet.

Not when he couldn’t even stop lying to himself about what he wanted.

They all went up to the Archimedes, quickly thrown into another test, where he got to see Sweet and Sour's names on the list just like Horyang had promised. They were fighting side-by-side to reach him, determined to make up the difference in ability with sheer determination, Prince screaming up at the stands that they were going to take him back, led by a masked man who sent Viole’s mind racing. He had a strong feeling that they would end up meeting him in the finals, nerve-wracking to think about as it was. He wasn’t sure what the outcome of that would be and it terrified him. 

And that night he was offered a lifeline, and another reunion with someone he didn’t expect to see. 

Scales and red eyes. 

A diminutive reptilian figure caught his eye once during the post-Test party, and that was enough reason to give chase when he tried to disappear around a corner. But Rak was too fast and didn't let him escape, already suspected who he was, someone had told him. Viole let the gator comfort him when he was caught, when he was revealed after a long absence. “You were alive! You were…!” To have a reunion, to feel this relief, was overwhelming. Viole cried at the force of it, feeling real tears on his face for the first time in so, so long. He wanted them back more than he could possibly say. 

The moment couldn't last (of course not), but Viole felt the hope building inside him.

He hugged Rak close, the touch of cool scales and horns easing his soul. And, more, wanting to go back. He wanted them. Wanted a life where he’d no longer have to hide his smile and wish for something more. Things that his tortured and overwhelmed emotions couldn't even begin to describe. 

It felt like everything was building to a crescendo, that soon he would have nowhere else to run. Viole wanted out, wanted to go back to them more than ever. 

He was done being FUG's god. 

“Your goal is to escape,” Hwaryun told him firmly, and this time, he was willing to obey without hesitation. 

Viole was leaving. 

FUG’s trap had failed and he still lived, in spite of their deceptive efforts, the wrapped thorn still hovering over his shoulder. The opponents still persisted, but now, freed from his bonds, they couldn’t stand in his way. Viole blasted through their lightbearer’s shield with the ‘blue oar,’ ignoring the darkness of the Mad Dog that sought to hold him back.

He had to believe in the strength of his friends and strike out on his own. All he needed to do was break through and reach the port Hwaryun directed him to, and his friends would summon him back. The eagerness to be with them again helped to speed his steps.

It was almost too easy. Viole evaded pursuit and reached the port, the “item shop” that served as his important loophole. He didn't have to wait long after starting the connection, a screen popped up in front of him, and on the other side of it was…

“Viole!” 

Blonde hair. A vibrant smile. Someone whom he’d wanted to see again very much. 

“Wangnan!” Viole did not hide his excitement to see him, the relief. For years, he felt like FUG had stolen his right to a smile, and he doesn’t allow them to hold back this time. “How did you get here?” He asks, because even if Sweet & Sour followed him to the Workshop Battle and all, setting things up so that he could be in the right place at the right time was a bit more impressive. 

“Hwaryun told me that I could see you if I came to the Workshop Battle,” Wangnan explained and that was something else to be indebted to the Guide to. “Although it somehow took this long to see you… And your friend, Yuto, gave me directions. And Khun is here with me, too!”

The lightness in his chest softened even more when he noticed the blue-toned observer on the edge of his periphery. “Mr. Khun? So you were with him!” Viole hadn’t doubted that the man had survived, his friend was too strong. But…he'd considered that maybe Khun had been too badly injured to follow.

He was relieved to know this wasn’t the case.

“Yes, I’m here too.” Khun’s voice carried out of the observer, calm and pleased. Under control. He almost wanted to ask how they’d teamed up together, how well new and old friends joined hands to help him with the same goal. But they didn’t have any time to spare then. And…well, after this battle was over, and he had his friends again, there would be plenty of time to tell the story in full.

Wangnan laughed fondly (and the sound caused a warmth to bloom in Viole’s chest), looking eager, “Hehe, I have a lot to tell you, Viole. And you look a lot brighter?”

It's because you– you all came for me. It's because of you.

His determination must’ve shown on his face this time because Khun noticed and swiftly spoke up, “Judging from your face, you’re not gonna run away this time?” Viole’s denial was sharp, immediate. And he could hear the satisfied sound Khun made over the speakers. “Good. Wait a little, Bam,” Khun said, the confidence of a plan in his voice, the tone that Viole remembered from the Floor of Test. “I’ll get that snake right now, and summon you right away.”

But…it doesn’t go so smoothly.

“Summon who?”

Viole sees it just for an instant, a figure in the background. But it's only an instant, too quick for him to speak before he hears a terrifying noise. A crack and a wet splatter. 

Horror flows through him. The hidden mark on his wrist burns with the blowback, only confirming the pain that he can see in front of him. Viole’s eyes are wide when he registers that Wangnan’s position has changed, shoulders and arms locked with shock, jaw dropped open. The bloody hand protruding through his chest is the only thing stopping him from collapsing to his knees. 

“I can’t let that happen, blondie,” The figure says, and behind Wangnan’s shaking shoulders Viole can see the red cap and bandages of the man who’d led him into a trap. Beta!

“Wangnan!” 

Both he and Khun yell out his name, but Viole feels like he’s on the verge of screaming. His wrist burns. There’s a uniquely horrid fear crawling up inside him as he remembers Master Jinsung’s black scar, of knowing how close he is to having his loss and failure imprinted on his body forever. 

Remembering Wangnan like that, his sun reduced to a brand, is terrifying in a way unlike any other. All his intent to protect his soulmate crumbled into dust.

Khun immediately tries to interrogate the intruder, but Viole isn’t listening. Beta yanked his hand back and Wangnan crumpled to the ground like a discarded marionette, out of his line of sight. He could hear the man vomiting blood, struggling to stay alive. Beta didn’t move away, gloating, declaring that he would end his precious people. Not Wangnan! “Why are you doing this?!” He yelled desperately, trying in one broken attempt to get Beta to stay his hand, to have mercy, “It’s me that you hate, so why are you hurting others?!” Don’t touch him don’t touch him don’t touch him. 

Beta sneered, “I already told you, Completed One. I want to make you suffer.” He lifted his hands in a shrug. “I don’t know how you escaped from the trap, but now that you’re here, you can sit and watch your friends die as you sink into despair.” 

“You...” Helpless, directionless anger twisted inside of him.

For an instant, Viole’s eyes moved to the exit, but…it was no use. The only way to get to Wangnan in time–the only way–would be through the summoning well. He was trapped on the other side of a yawning chasm, where he could see the worst unfold right in front of his eyes.

And Beta turned away from him then, considering the blonde-haired regular coughing up red on the floor, “Now, shall we begin? You won’t last much longer in this state anyway.” He stepped forward, ignoring Viole’s screams for him to stop, stop, stop! “I’ll make it quick for you.”

But before he could, a flash of red through the air forced him to back away or risk being harpooned, and a familiar gruff voice intervened. “Hey, curry turtle!”

Rak! 

Rak had arrived, and he’d brought help. Again, the gator had brought him a ray of hope in the depths of horrible pain. In no time, there was a scuffle over the hidden spearhead, Laure's shinsu pulling it to the surface. As Viole tried to follow the reveal through the screen, he realized he could see Wangnan again, the other man dragging his bloodstained body over the rim of the well, bracing his shaking hands against it. He looked like he was in agony, but still soldiered on. Viole was struck silent by the sight.

Viole found himself haunted by Wangnan’s promise under a night sky. I wouldn’t regret risking my life for you.

The parasite spearhead was dead. Immolated by Ehwa’s blaze. 

Wangnan grinned through his obvious pain, blood leaking from his lips.

“Please Summon Jue Viole Grace!”

Despite his anger, his kneejerk urge for revenge, Viole didn’t follow through.

When Beta collapsed on the floor in front of him, he didn’t look frightening anymore. Rather, he looked pathetic. Clinging to a grudge that wasn’t even real, a grudge that Viole had no interest in indulging.

He stayed his hand. He chose mercy.

Viole thought about the 20th Floor, about forgiveness, and what Wangnan would’ve done.

The Workshop Battle was officially ended. 

Mr. Lero-ro explained what little he knew to them later, that the Workshop had been forced to let them get away due to some kind of emergency with the organizers. The ex-instructor had told them that the Ranker he’d been fighting said something about “some bigwig” being called in. Neither FUG nor the Workshop had pursued them and Team Sweet & Sour were officially (or maybe not?) declared the winners of the Workshop Battle. Which meant that escaping was suddenly made easy.

Wolhaiksong swept in in the interim, willing to shelter and give them a space to lick their wounds. The lodgings they provided were comfortable and necessary, everything that the Regulars needed after the mess they'd escaped from. Compared to FUG and the opportunistic Workshop, the winged tree didn't have dangerous ulterior motives.

No one would be coming after them in the immediate future, which gave the lot of them some time to take things easy. Everyone needed that after the rapidfire mess that had been the 30th Floor.

But for Viole, he knew he couldn’t wait to check on the person who needed it most.

Viole told the rest of Sweet & Sour that he wanted to look after their injured leader tonight, it was what he deserved after everything that happened. And…he was compelled to close the distance.

He pulled Mr. Lero-ro aside to show him to Wangnan’s room, anxious to see how well his friend was recovering. They told him that Wangnan had handled what should’ve been a fatal injury far better than one would expect, his blood clotting unnaturally quick to prevent himself from bleeding out and the injury itself was healing at a rapid rate, but no one really had an explanation for why. “Your friend is certainly a durable one, Bam,” Lero-ro told him, one hand on the door leading into the room. “He’s stable now, but unconscious. I know you must have wanted to speak with him after everything, but I’m afraid it's highly unlikely he’ll wake up today.”

“That’s alright,” He responded, “it’s enough to know he’s getting better. I just wanted to see him.”

The ex-teacher patted his shoulder encouragingly, “Stay as long as you need. Do what you need to set your mind at ease. It’s the least I can do for my former students.” Viole thanked him as the man left him alone to visit Wangnan, closing the door behind him to leave him in near solitude.

Only after the older man left did Viole have the courage to look over at the other person in the room. Wangnan was lying supine with the sheet pulled halfway up his chest so the bandages could be exposed, and an IV line disappeared somewhere underneath them.

Seeing him like this, Viole felt once again, somehow responsible for his plight, even if Wangnan had volunteered to put himself on the line. The end result still had his heart heavy. 

He stepped closer, enough to see the lines of discomfort on the blonde’s face, to know that he was still in pain from his injury. 

Helplessly guilty, Viole reached forward to grab the sheets to pull them up.

But he had to drop them in surprise when an accidental brush against Wangnan’s skin had a fiery feeling racing up his fingers and down the length of his arms. He gasped, Heart beating rapidly, Viole looked over to see what he should've seen earlier: the edge of Wangnan’s mark–the tip of a butterfly's wing–peeking out from the top of the wrapping. He'd touched it, bonded through it, but entirely by accident, and the realization of what that meant had him on the edge of panic. 

He could already feel the difference. Viole could sense it, this golden light that had spawned inside of him. It brought a fond feeling that couldn't be extinguished even through the anxiety of what it meant. But with that came the pain, Wangnan’s pain, from the throbbing over his heart. It was dulled and muted over the bond; Viole wasn’t feeling it near to the level that Wangnan was, but it was still present and shocking to know that he was sharing it with him at all. Well, not completely. 

The bond was still one-sided. 

Wangnan had to touch Viole’s mark as well in order to feel what he felt, but enacting it unintentionally–without the blonde's awareness–made him wary and hesitant all over again. All the uneasiness he felt before the 30th Floor came flowing back in a violent wave. 

Viole backed away, all the confidence he had to confess fizzling out inside him.

Wangnan remained (not so) blissfully unaware.

-

Chapter Text

--

“Thank you for all this, Ms. Endorsi,” Viole, no…Bam said politely as they sat down together at a small outdoor seating for a local restaurant. 

The princess sighed, sipping from her drink, some fruity concoction that he couldn’t pronounce the name of. “I know you agreed to watch a movie, but I get the feeling that you weren’t really enjoying it.” 

The young man stiffened up, “Uh…no, it’s not that. I mean, I’ve never gone to the theatre before. It’s not as though I wasn’t enjoying it…” Going to the theatre was actually a novel experience for him; when team Sweet & Sour showed him movies, they all were always crowded around the screen at the house (and he wasn't always willing to be that sociable back then). It was hard to explain really, what was going on in his head. He knew he was distracted, not giving the attention that she deserved, but didn’t know how to quiet the thoughts in his head. Bam felt guilty about it, but the worst part of it was that he also could tell that not all of that guilt clogging his brain actually belonged to him. 

Ever since that night after the Workshop, Wangnan’s feelings lingered on the edge of his consciousness. Most of the time they were vague and indistinct enough to fade into the background of his mind beyond his notice, but today was noticeably worse. Master Jinsung had told him once that bonded pairs learned to compartmentalize, figuring out how to block out the busier feelings, and focusing on the ones that really mattered in the moment. 

If they were truly one, they could even read each other's minds, more than feelings. 

Bam wasn’t anywhere near that stage.

At the very least, he knew what these feelings were coming from. He heard from multiple people that Wangnan had been hanging around near Horyang’s hospital room more often, ever since the doctors found that they couldn’t wake him up. None of what happened was the blonde’s fault, but his guilt was still there, impossible to ignore. The bond didn’t lie about things like that. 

(Mr. Horyang would’ve pushed him to confess, and that truth made Bam feel even more horrid about himself. It was worse that he could feel what Wangnan did without the other man being aware of it. It felt like a violation, even if it was an accident.)

They talked for a while longer, but Bam couldn’t stop feeling wrong, and he knew she noticed. Ms. Endorsi was strong-willed, encouraging, and powerful, and all of that was part of the reason why he was having so much trouble. Endorsi was not going to accept some half-hearted excuse. 

“Bam,” The Princess jolted him out of his thoughts, and he looked up, finding her staring him down seriously. It was a fine sunny day and light filtering through the tree leaves left a dappled pattern all across her face and shoulders. He felt like someone else should be here with her instead of him. “I need you to be straight with me. Did you even want to go on a date with me?”

“W-what?!” Bam flushed, rushing through his extremely limited knowledge of relationships to find an appropriate answer to the question, “It was a promise! I won’t back out of a promise, Ms. Endorsi. I wouldn’t do that kind of thing to you.”

Endorsi’s amber eyes narrowed just a tad, and he knew that he’d said the wrong thing, or said it in the wrong way, “Bam…I’m not a little girl, you know. I’m not going to break down crying if you reject me.”

Bam felt his shoulders slump, “I’m sorry, Ms. Endorsi. I didn’t mean it like that.” How could he explain that backing out of this agreement felt like a betrayal to him, and even now–after everything that happened on the Floor of Test–the idea of turning his back on a girl felt like curdling in his gut. If you betray a girl, then the whole Tower will fall down on you. He didn’t see any real option other than to explain to her why this felt so wrong to him, something she understood. “Something really serious has happened since the last time that we saw each other that I needed to confess to you.”

The Princess paused, curious but wary, “Oh? Did you meet another girl?” Bam shook his head slightly, and extended his arm, touching his bandaged wrist with his other hand. Immediately, her face flooded with a sharp understanding. She and Khun were among the few who knew about his mark, and he was relieved to know that she remembered it without him needing to explain (he'd grown wary about showing it off even after escaping FUG). Her voice was almost tired when she spoke, “...So that’s it. You found them, then.”

“Yes,” He murmured, suddenly nervous about how she’d react. “I haven’t told them yet. The only one who knows about them is Mr. Horyang, and he won’t wake up.” Even that felt like too much information to share, but he couldn’t help it. She needed to know something.

Endorsi’s gaze pierced into his arm, like she could see straight through the bandage to the yellow mark underneath, eventually shaking her head and looking away. “As much as I hate to agree with that guy, Khun did tell you that it isn’t always romantic…do you feel that way about them?” As she spoke, Endorsi rubbed her hand across her shoulder, where her mark–a set of dark stripes–peeked out from her blouse. Bam had seen it a few times, but Endorsi talked about her mark even less than he did. And he definitely didn't want to overstep in a time like this. 

“I don’t know,” Bam admitted quietly, the first time he’d let himself really think about it, “but I still feel…strongly. And until I figure it out, I think that it would be wrong to…lead you on otherwise.”

She sighed, the tension from before visibly flowing out of her, “True, that would be very wrong. If I found out you were just jerking me around, even a gracious princess like me would be awfully upset.” Even Bam didn't need a hint to know that ‘upset’ wouldn't even begin to cover it. And he shivered, thinking of their little fight leading up to the Workshop. Endorsi hummed, propping her cheek upon her palm, her gaze turning sharp and curious, “So…? Is she cute at least?”

That absolutely caught him off guard. “H-huh? Well, he's…I mean–well we're–” Bam started, cutting himself off as Endorsi silently mouthed the word ‘he’ during his blustering. 

He thought she would be cross, but instead the princess’ lips curved up in a smirk. “So you’re saying that I didn't lose out to another woman after all. In that case, tell me Bam, is he cute?”

From there, Endorsi had shifted over to teasing, taking amusement in prodding him about his mysterious soul mate. All the while, Bam–flustered–struggled to answer while avoiding any information that could give Wangnan away. But at least the princess’ mood had improved after his confession. She told him that he didn't need to treat her gently, but Bam still wanted her to be happy anyway. It was what a friend should do regardless of bonds and things like that. He wondered if she'd support him too if everything ended up coming to light. (He hoped so.)

Eventually, after treating the princess to dessert, it was time for the “date” to come to an end. “I feel bad about asking this, after today,” Bam started awkwardly, “but could you not tell anyone about my soul mate quite yet?” He needed to do his best to limit the number of people who knew before Wangnan himself. 

Endorsi patted him on the shoulder, having made an aborted move to kiss him before thinking twice about it, “Don't worry your little head about it. I can be satisfied with knowing something more than everyone else. Connections are important for princesses. Anyway, you'll knock him dead, Bam.” 

Encouraging him like that, after a failed date of sorts made him perk up. Before he could question himself, Bam hugged her.

“Ah!” Endorsi startled, “Bam what are–”

“Thank you Ms. Endorsi. And if you want to talk, or if you want me to help out, I'll be there.” He promised, letting go.

They separated quickly after that, the princess still slightly flushed and embarrassed, but–thankfully–not upset. Shibisu's team would be leaving soon, and she'd be going with them, but they would definitely meet again in a not too distant future. And Bam would hopefully have some good news for her by then, when he finally had the courage to reach out for it with his own hands. 

They called it ‘the Hell Train.’

When their teams gathered together to interrogate the Guide, that title was what came out of her mouth. The next step in their journey, one said to be long and arduous in a way that most Regulars couldn’t even attempt to undergo. And just the mere mention of it was enough to put him on edge; the trials put in place for them to even acquire a boarding ticket was the cherry on top. 

They had to be strong enough to earn it, to chase the Train. And the thought that Bam could also be chasing after someone who he knew all too well (how well exactly), whose manipulations could be behind this… It put him on edge. The past was crawling back up out of the darkness to bite him.

Then Hwaryun suggested that they separate, and earn their ticket apart from the rest.

Bam wanted to object. 

After all the effort he went through to reunite with them, why should he have to split up again, even if it was out of some necessity that he didn’t understand? Couldn’t he enjoy it–just for a while?

But as he was about to open his mouth, to say something even as a token protest, Bam was interrupted. Another voice cut in before he could speak, belonging to none other than Wangnan. “Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to do that,” He said firmly, and Bam could feel the sharp spike of determination that surfaced in the back of his mind. “I need to become stronger, so that I can lead everyone to where I want to go.” 

Wangnan met Hwaryun’s eyes, calm but stubborn. Bam's unspoken thoughts died in his throat. Wangnan’s words on the 20th Floor, his declaration, felt more real. 

What was he supposed to say against that?

The ache persisted until they left the meeting to go their separate ways, but Bam managed to waylay Wangnan before he could vanish down the hall. He had to say something, even if it wasn’t enough. Even if it wasn’t all that he should’ve said. 

“V-Viole? What's the matter?” The blonde asked, clearly able to see the worry on his face. The emotions he'd hidden for so long no longer stayed buried as easily as they once did. 

“Be careful,” Bam blurted out, and Wangnan blinked at him in surprise until he continued. “I mean… I don't want you to get hurt again, like at the Workshop. So, please be careful out there.” It wasn’t close to everything he wanted to convey, but it was all that he had the bravery to really express. 

“U-um,” The blonde blinked, taken aback, before his expression softened. It reminded Bam of a certain night they’d shared on a rooftop, watching the sky. “Thank you, Viole, for worrying about me… But you don't have to. I'll have the others, and Khun's pretty reliable too.” He laughed, a sound that Bam had grown so attached to. “Besides, it's okay, I don't mind if I get hurt protecting–”

“I mind.” Bam spoke before the words were fully thought out.

Wangnan stared, surprised again. 

He tried to explain, “I don't like the idea of you getting hurt like that. Especially if you have any other choice in the matter. Because, you're–” Bam struggled to get it out, the admission behind his teeth. How could he say it? How could he tell Wangnan that he'd been unintentionally spying on the blonde’s personal emotions? That they'd already been bonded–if only halfway? That they were soulmates? “–Because you're also one of my precious friends,” He finished weakly.

Again. He failed to take the plunge.

Wangnan didn't know what he'd failed to say. He was simply flattered by the affirmation, reddening and thanking him awkwardly. His blush was luminous and brought out his beauty mark, and the gleam in his hair from the lights made him look fiery. 

Bam looked away.

“I'll call you,” He said instead. “You and Khun, and–just because I can.” He would’ve done that regardless, even if he and Wangnan didn't have that connection. Bam had the freedom to talk to them now, and no one would stop him from using it anymore. 

“I'll listen for your Pocket,” Wangnan said, smiling at him, “I promise.”

Bam's fingers itched, having a strong desire to hug him, but he knew it would seem strange and sudden. And he wouldn't have an excuse that made sense. So instead, he returned the promise right back and wished Wangnan well, not looking forward to another year away from his friends. At the very least, he could still have their words, if only relayed over a Pocket’s speakers. 

That would have to hold him over.

For a while.

Reduced down to a lonely climb again, Bam is committed to keeping his promise.

He calls his friends on those long nights alone, to remind himself that even if his journey is solitary, it's only a temporary one.

It is something he needs. (To stay stable, to stay sane.) 

Khun is strangely evasive over the Pocket, and he never seemed to want to talk about Rachel and what she could be up to, but Bam still relished the chance to talk to him. His voice was calming, easing the anxiety of the climb. Khun talked him through the Tests, both Bam's and his own, providing bits of info about how the members of Sweet and Sour were improving as well. He sounded both exasperated and fond with their progress, setting Bam at ease. “I can guarantee that we'll reunite in short order, Bam. Stay focused on yourself, I don't like you not having someone around to patch you up,” There was an amused hum in his voice, laid over a genuine concern. It would be a relief when they finally reunited at Train City. 

Rak had nothing but confidence and so much bled over into Bam from that alone. “You'd better not leave your leader behind, turtle!” He declared, though he must know that Bam would never do anything of the sort. It was Rak that reminded him that he had capable friends who wouldn't be late for their reunion. “They wouldn't dare not show up!” The gator declared gruffly, “or they'd answer to me!” He's always a source of strength. 

Bam smiled, and when he calls Wangnan he's lying on his side in bed with soft covers pulled up to his shoulders, comfortable and calm. 

Wangnan Ja is clear and bright when he answers, and his status report on the team is accompanied by chuckling, jokingly complaining about the training Khun would run them all through. “He's actually a slave-driver, Viole! Hurry and save me from this maniac!” And there's pride in his voice when he talks about the kids’ progress, and how they've all gotten stronger. “We need to show you how much we've improved! Then, you'll have less to worry about, Viole.”

He'd worry no matter how strong they got. But he didn't say it. Wangnan wanted to set his mind at ease and Bam chose to let him.

He let Wangnan ramble for a while, talking about the team, feeling the distant yet warm feeling of happiness churn quietly over the bond in time to his words. His muted bond, confirming that Wangnan enjoyed his company just as much as Bam hoped. When the call finally ended with Wangnan signing off with a chipper “Talk to ya later, Viole!” Bam felt the warmth of comfort in his chest linger for some time before he finally went to bed. 

Time passed.

Bam found himself focusing on the bond more and more, trying to feel it better. Even if he was still just one half of a whole.

Distance weakened what he could feel, emotions far away and a minor twinge of pain reaching him every now and then. But then, Wangnan would talk to him (whether he called or Bam), and the link would fill up with a fluttery happiness. Bright as sunshine. 

It brought a smile to Bam's lips just to feel it.

On the other hand, the longer he focused on the bond, almost meditating, Bam began to feel something else. Under the brightness, the determination, everything else, there was a dim, cloudy sensation. Like sadness.

‘Is Wangnan lonely?’ Bam couldn’t be sure, but it felt all too familiar to him. He spent so many years isolated by FUG that–as faint as it was–the trickle of sadness over the bond resonated with him. The moment Bam realized it was there, became aware of it, he could feel how ever-present it was. Even when they talked, the feeling lingered under the surface. He wished that he could make it go away.

‘Why do you feel this way?’ And more than that: ‘Can I help?’

In the darkness, Bam clutched a cushion and slowly started to imagine it as another person lying next to him. The fantasy took shape gradually, of that time on the 26th Floor when the apartment they rented was one bed short, and Wangnan offered to share. At the time, it had been perfectly innocent; they were back-to-back, and on a queen-sized bed besides. But here, alone and in his head, Bam can–through instinct alone–recreate the scene in a different way.

Instead of back-to-back, his mind replaced the pillow in his arms with a warm body, arms around him and soft hair tickling his cheek. Face to face, sharing warmth in the night.

It was obvious who he was supposed to be. 

They weren't truly bonded, not yet, but Bam hoped he could send him just a little of that comfort and warmth, even from so far away. To heal that lingering thread of hurt.

It was the least he could do, after not being able to heal anything else.

And not being able to protect him when it mattered.

Train City was…a disaster. 

Bam thought he was prepared to face Rachel, but he wasn't. 

The moment he saw her, recognized her, it was like a switch had been flipped. Some part of his brain that was simply turned off.

Bam felt shamed, secretly. 

He'd lashed out with an uncomfortable fury, attacking Rachel's team not because they were rivals or enemies, but because they were in the way. Obstacles. In that berserker state, Bam had given no thought to Khun's shouts for him, and Wangnan's arc of alarm across his link just made him stumble. And in hindsight, it unnerved him, having not been aware of how much her presence could still influence him after how much time had passed.

Despite having his friends back, he was still fighting like a loner.

So many years of FUG was not so easy to shake off.

Bam put his face in his hands when he woke, the sound of that unknown “power” ringing in his ears. What it implied he still didn't really understand, but the ominous message it left still lingered. And he already had too many things to worry him after that day.

Bam dragged himself out of the bed, still feeling weak and exhausted from the Thorn. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious, but was still surprised at how overtaxed he was for a power that he only managed to tap into for a moment. Bam groaned, feeling a headache coming on as he stumbled to the door, hearing voices talking from the next room.

“...had to bribe the Test Admins. It was the only way to get the Test scheduled early.” Khun was talking; he sounded…stressed. 

They did miss the Train…

“That's not a cheap move,” Akraptor's voice rumbled, “and I know your pockets aren't as deep as you act. If we don't catch up next time, that kind of money is…”

“I know.” Khun sighed, and Bam lingered, wanting to hear the worries his friend had been avoiding in the last year apart. “We will get on at the next stop, even if I have to…call in a favor. I don't have any other option to catch up with them. The alternative is to leave Ehwa and Wangnan to fend for themselves, which I'm sure you agree is not acceptable.”

Ms. Ehwa? Wangnan?!

What happened when he was out?

Bam stumbled into the living room, immediately bringing the conversation to a halt with his presence. “Bam! You're already awake?” Khun was at his side in an instant, supporting him when he was unsteady, and helping him get to a chair. 

“Khun…” Bam huffed, trying to put his worry into words, “What’s going on? What happened to them after I passed out? I…”

Khun seemed to hesitate, just like he had over previous conversations on the Pocket, before Akraptor cut in to explain instead. “Khun used that knife from the Workshop to send Ehwa and Wangnan into the Train before it departed,” He said bluntly, crossing his arms. “And on top of that, we have no way of communicating with them through the Train's barrier.”

The knowledge was cutting.

If they couldn’t communicate, then they’d have no idea whether Wangnan and Ehwa were hurt, or… And then another truth struck him with the sensation of prickling skin. ‘It wasn't just the Pockets,’ Bam realized faintly, rubbing his wrist subconsciously. His wrist was pins-and-needles there since he woke up, and he couldn’t feel the bond over that blanket of numbness. They were cut off, separated. 

“Just the two of them? Alone?” Bam said tightly, something painful churning in his gut. 

Khun pursed his lips and nodded, wordless. Bam felt stricken; on one hand, he knew that Wangnan would’ve agreed to this given how he’d acted before they separated, and Khun had done little to hide his determination to hunt down and inconvenience Rachel. But still, it hurt–instinctively–to be yanked away from him like that, and completely without his input. But he couldn’t even fully blame Khun when it had already happened so many times. If it wasn’t his own weakness and hesitance preventing Bam from confessing all this time, then there would always be something else getting in the way.

‘This is my fault,’ Bam thought morosely, ‘If I hadn’t acted like that when I saw Rachel, then I could’ve prevented this.’

He had just started growing used to it. Feeling Wangnan’s presence from afar had become calming, grounding almost (even with that ‘sad feeling’), and Bam knew he had to do something to fix it. It was one thing not to see his face, but this was worse. And even though his soulmate’s safety consumed his priorities with instinct alone, Ehwa was also a companion who deserved help too.

“We…we have to go after them…help,” Bam started to get up, but was firmly kept in place when he wobbled dangerously again. 

“Bam, stop please, you're in no condition–”

Khun tried to steady him, but Bam was lacking the patience. “What does that matter? We don't have time–!”

Akraptor's hand on his shoulder stopped him, but the stoic-faced man addressed Khun instead, “Khun. You're one hundred percent sure that you were able to get the earliest possible schedule?” The man was among the few who had no issue calmly challenging Khun to his face (and whom the latter was actually willing to listen to in turn).

And his friend also quickly acquiesced when pressed, “Yes, I’m sure. The Test Admins in charge of this sector aren’t even on the Floor and won’t be back for the next few days at the earliest. No amount of money we throw at them will make things move faster than this.” Stressed as it was, Khun’s expression softened, “I don’t like leaving things the way they are either, you know. It was…the only thing I could think of at the time, to buy time. It wasn’t my intent to throw them to the wolves; I do trust them, Bam.”

Akraptor nodded, taking his hand away and facing Bam head on. His tone was even, reasonable. “I have to believe that those kids will be alright in the meantime. Wangnan’s not dumb; he’s not known for getting in fights he knows he won’t win, and Ehwa’s learned to cool her head enough to listen to him when it counts. You’re going to have to trust that they’re not fighting a two-person war up there.”

Bam still didn’t like it…but he could admit he was at a standstill. 

“I…I’m just worried,” He said instead, unable to fully express how deep that sentiment went. “I tried to…I wasn’t able to help Wangnan the last time. All I could do was watch.”

Khun and Akraptor exchanged a serious look, the former reminding him, “Don't worry, we’ll be on the Train on the next stop. I promise that we won’t give him the chance to do something reckless before you see each other again, Bam.”

Bam smiled weakly, hoping that prediction would come true.

But despite assurances, he still couldn’t shake the distant sense of dread from the back of his mind.

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