Archive of Our Own ^beta

🗝️

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.

With one hand on the wheel and one hand somewhat nervously brushing his hair back, Renjun glances at the GPS as he wearily eyes the winding road in front of him. It’s a lot more rural than he thought, so much so that he had to make note of the local amenities and the single grocery store in the village on his way in, knowing that once he reaches his destination, there’s not going to be civilisation for miles.

The laneway is so narrow that the shrubbery brushes against the sides of the small car, his foot easing on the pedal as he inches deeper into the wet mud in front of him. He’s not entirely sure this is even the right way, though realistically speaking, there is nowhere else to turn. He can only hope that someone doesn’t drive down towards him, then he’d have to reverse the entire way back.

He can hear the cat meowing in protest from the backseat, undoubtedly feeling the uneven surface beneath despite the carrier being entirely covered with a blanket.

“It’s okay, Hecate, we’re almost there,” He says, glancing at the GPS once more, the screen now practically blank as he drives into the vast expanse of nothing.

A long-faded mustard yellow house creeps into view as he rounds the last bend, the walls splashed with old, green stains as ivy drapes from the roof and the window panes. For a moment, he’s worried he’s got the wrong place as he slows the car to a stop just in front of the house, until he sees the front door open a second later. An older woman briefly steps out with a wave in his direction before slipping back in, and he takes that as a sign to turn off the engine and step out of the car.

He grabs his bag from the front seat before opening the driver door, immediately being hit with a sudden gust of wind as he stands. He quietly gasps at the unexpected chill, the wind strong enough to push his bangs out of his face as he squints. The world crunches under his feet as he shuts the door, the overgrown grass littered with a scattering of brown and golden leaves. He takes one last turn to look back down the way he came, seeing the winding, darkening road before turning back to the car.

He opens the back door, taking out the carrier as Hecate mewls in protest before quickly shushing him. The small cottage lies against the backdrop of the old forest, nothing but trees as far as the eye can see, though the faint sound of cars in the near distance doesn’t go unnoticed.

The trees stand tall amongst the vibrant moss and vegetation on the woodland floor, though a handful of fallen trees are dotted in the distance, likely a product of the growing frequency of storms they get in this village so close to the coast. The neighbouring trees elect to grow around them anyway in search of the light, though the narrow, man made path still lies etched within, a walkway not yet reclaimed by the forces of nature.

The cloudless twilight sky envelops him, and he considers himself lucky that he had gotten here before the complete darkness that was about to befall them. He eyes the life that he’s packed away both in the backseat and the trunk of the car, figuring that it’s not likely he’ll be robbed so far out in the forest. He’s locked the car and is halfway past the flat stepping stones to the door when the woman reappears.

“Ah, you must be Renjun,” she says with a smile as she opens the door wide to let him in.

“Mrs. Kim?” He asks with a bow and is met with a nod.

“Come in, come in out of the cold. You must have had a long journey from the city. I take it you found the place okay?”

“Uh, yes, mostly,” Renjun says, closing the door behind him and slipping off his shoes. He follows her into the kitchen where he places the bag and carrier and onto the table, still covered with the blanket. “Was that the main village I passed on the way in?”

Mrs. Kim hums, “Yes, you’ll find everything else you need there. I also run the little flower shop near the post office if you’re ever looking for me. Oh, you must pop down some time, I’m sure the locals would love to meet you!”

“I will, of course,” He says, knowing that they probably run quite a tight-knit community here where naturally everyone knows everyone. He’ll have to make himself more acquainted with the village anyway over the weekend if he hopes to eat in any case. “Is there anything I should know while you’re here?”

“Ah, yes,” she starts, making a beeline for the hallway again, “I’ve left the furnishings and homeware as is, though I did do a little cleaning and tidying up before you arrived. You’re free to use everything at your disposal. The markets are on Sunday mornings, you should stop by! And the post is collected every weekday at 4 o’clock sharp. Ah, what else is there?” She pauses, shuffling in her pockets, “They do serve food at the closest pub if—” She checks her watch, “You have time, you’ll make it. Also, you do tend to lose phone service the closer you get to the coast but that’s why I still have a perfectly good landline right here.”

She gestures to the small table near the door, “My phone number is on the card if you’re ever stuck, it never fails! You can hold me to that! Though I will say that I tend to turn in quite early. I know you young ones are late nighters if my own children are anything to go by. That’s why I’ve also left you Kun’s number. You’ll meet Kun— Everyone knows Kun—Ah— Yes, of course, I must tell you about the key,” She ushers Renjun closer with her hand and he almost jumps back as she produces an old, skeleton key from seemingly nowhere.

“This little devil tried to evade me but alas, it was found just outside in the long grass when I thought it had been lost for good. You see,” She looks over her shoulder before continuing with a lowered voice, “It only goes into the keyhole upside down.”

She opens the door at that, letting the cool draught sweep into the house to demonstrate, “The lock is a little loose and the door itself can be quite temperamental when the weather is hot. The wood tends to expand and shut it tight but— You know how it is. All still in working condition, I assure you. It can’t be helped, there’s nothing to be done about it, I’m afraid.

“Of course, the council did try to demolish the place way back when but of course, there was widespread backlash because of the fairies, as you can understand. The foundations can’t be touched, and especially not the forest! Ah, here you go before the daylight gets any further from us. I better leave you to it, you must be starving. There’s kindling, coal and some fire starters near the fireplace to get you going for the night! The temperatures drop fast.”

Renjun is still frozen at the mention of fairies, a cautionary tale for anyone who’s in the know. He blinks at the casualness in her tone, despite that she seems to have enough awareness to mention the foundations. Though, everything she said afterwards has already somehow slipped his mind. He’s almost questioning his hearing until he realises she’s already putting on a high-vis vest and stepping out into the garden, “Wait— Mrs. Kim! Are you okay to walk back alone in the dark?” Renjun coughs out as he grips the key in his palm, “I can drop you off at your home.”

She’s already waving her hand as she takes another step forward, “No, no, please don’t worry about me! You’d have to come all the way back here, there’s not a chance of finding parking at this hour. It’s just a quick pop down the road, I’ll be there in no time. That’s why I brought this!” She produces a small flashlight in her other hand that Renjun hadn’t noticed previously, “Oh and Renjun?” She stops mid-stride, turning to face him while Renjun makes sure the key is still in his hand and to remember her instructions lest the door close behind him this very second.

“Y-Yes?”

“I’m sorry to hear about your partner.”

Renjun’s face briefly falters. Even after all this time, it’s still like being hit with a blow in his chest. He replies with a hint of a smile, “Ah, thank you, it was… sudden,” He clears his throat, his voice quieting as his eyes trail to the ground, “He really was so excited to come here and meet you after all your correspondence with him. He talked about this house for months. It only seemed right to… see it through.”

“Well, we are very happy to have you here with us, still. And listen— If you’re stuck for rent at the moment, it’s really no issue—”

“Oh, no, not at all. I have everything in order,” He says with another bow, “Thank you again for having me.”

“Renjun-ah, if you ever need anything at all, you know where to find us,” she says with a subtle smile and soon she’s down the winding laneway and out of sight before Renjun can even snap back into action. He slips back into the house, not wanting to linger on the doorstep for too long. He might have to grab one of the bags from the car later but pub food currently sounded like music to his ears.

Before he can even think of bearing the elements for himself, thinking that he’ll have to invest in a high-vis vest and hoping that he has enough battery life to use his phone as a light on the dark roads later, he frees Hecate from his miniature prison. Although there is some hesitation to the new space and verbal protest on the wooden table, the cat immediately lightens up at the sight of a food sachet that Renjun pulls from his bag.

He saunters through the kitchen with a little serenade to himself, opening up every cupboard and glancing at every piece of crockery before settling on a small plate to feed the cat with. He’d have to try the gas station by the pub he saw earlier on his way back to find enough cat food and essentials to hold them until he can find a grocery store.

He walks about the old but well-kept house, quickly finding the living space and bedroom, with the small bathroom shoved towards the back. The tall cupboards leave little room for his belongings, considering one houses the water heater and the others are stuffed to the brim with extra thick blankets, a sure indicator that he’s in for a rough winter.

There is a large enough office space attached to the open-plan living room, a large, old desk with a lamp with a towering shelf of books directly behind it. He can only assume they belong to Mrs. Kim and her family, either that or the previous owners. While the faint smell of the ageing house can’t be ignored, he decides to crack open one of the small kitchen windows to let the air circulate for a brief time until he’s back. He can take an air freshener to the place if need be, though that was beginning to sound like a problem for tomorrow’s Renjun.

He chances his arm at the sink, glad to see clean water flush from the tap, though it only makes sense, given their proximity to the forest and the village. He supposes he’ll only have to worry about the pipes freezing over in the coming winter months, but that was a bridge he could cross much later. He quickly fills a bowl of water for the cat after noticing how long he’s been lingering.

After locating the readily-equipped fireplace and checking Hecate one last time, he grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He checks for his phone, wallet and key before heading for the door before he can lose any more precious seconds. While Hecate must be glad for some stability and peace of quiet, Renjun’s soft song fades into the air as he shoves on his shoes once more, and only then does he realise how alone he is in the dark silence.

🦗

I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again. Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note, So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape, And thy fair virtue’s force perforce doth move me. On the first view, to say, to swear, I love thee.

The stars glitter the skies as Haechan sits crossed-legged in the soft earth, clutching his freshly picked daisies tightly. It won’t be long before the sun dips below the horizon and frost settles in, but he couldn’t help himself when he saw the bright lights coming from the old house on the edge of the forest. He peeks between the grass with bated breath at the new arrival, watching as the stranger’s quiet song is drowned out by the sound of running water and clamouring of pots and pans.

He’s seconds away from stepping through the grass and inching closer when he feels a sudden movement beside him and a graze of his shoulder. He lets out a noise of surprise when a cricket chirps in his face, expertly snatching a daisy flower from one of the stems in his arms.

“Hey, that’s mine! You can’t have any. Go pick your own!” He falls backwards in his haste with a screech, desperate to save the rest of his flowers. He holds on dearly when he lands on his back with a thud, kicking his legs out in front of him before the cricket dashes off. He lies there for a second before rising with a pout, flickering his wings in the hope that they haven’t wrinkled.

The remaining daisies seem to have survived the encounter so he crawls forward once more, only to see that the stranger has since left his post and the lights have been flickered out. He hangs his head with a sigh, silently cursing the cricket under his breath as he scrambles to his feet, only to be nudged on the shoulder again. He barely has enough daisies to make a chain as it is.

“I already said you can’t have any! These are mine— Mark—” He gasps with wide eyes, almost dropping his flowers as Mark eyes him up and down suspiciously.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Cricket.”

“What are you doing out here?”

Haechan looks between him and his flowers before answering, “Picking daisies.”

“I don’t see any daisies out here.”

“Uh, I picked them all.”

“Haechan!” He raises his voice, stepping forward with an accusatory point of his finger, “I told you to come back right away, there’s someone in the house.”

Haechan’s only glad at this point to not be berated for picking all the daisies. “I know, I saw him,” he half turns to look back.

Mark’s face drops from anger to worry, “You saw him? Haechan… If a human sees you—”

“He won’t see me.”

Mark groans, rubbing his face with his hands, “You probably got lucky. Dusk is approaching and he probably didn’t see you this time but you shouldn’t come back here.” He adjusts the pouch of red berries on his belt before turning, “Come on, we need to head back before the frost hits.”

“Fine, I’ll catch up.”

“Haechan—!”

“Just one last look!” Haechan whispers as he steps closer to the edge of the forest again, despite the dramatic sighs from Mark who saunters off into the darkness, knowing it’s a losing game.

Haechan’s breath is now visible in the cool air when he kneels in the dirt, eyes peering at the dark house for any sliver of movement or quiet sound. He gasps almost too loud when the front door of the house opens, immediately covering his mouth with his hands and dropping the daisies in the process.

He can only look in awe as the mortal closes the door behind him and walks into the night. He braves one last glance behind him to confirm that Mark is long gone before turning back, just in time to see the stranger slip down the lane, clutching a bag as his hair tosses in the breeze.

He can only hope that the new arrival returns, feeling the chill begin to seep into his bones as his eyes travel towards the house. He’s half-tempted to linger, tempted to delve further and leave the safety of the forest until a shadow appears in the window, a black cat perching himself along the windowsill with large, yellow eyes immediately setting on him.

Haechan shrieks in surprise, tripping over his feet and almost landing on his wings before he catches himself. He can no longer see the house in his position but between the cricket, Mark, and the cat, he knows it’s not the right time. He must turn back now, so he gathers what’s left of his daisies and disappears into the grass.

🐦‍

Weaving spiders, come not here, Hence, you long legged spinners, hence! Beetles black, approach not here, worm nor snail, do no offense.

His hands still tingle both with strain and a certain numbness, the spellwork always leaving something physical behind, an impact, an imprint. Even with Ten’s help, casting a protection spell on something as large as a house was never easy work, always taking its toll. Though their handiwork doesn’t quite alleviate the sheer amount of energy radiating from the nearby forest, almost as if it’s been stirred into alertness, completely knowing of the new disturbance.

They stand there together, arms crossed just beyond where Renjun’s car is parked in the tall grass. They look on towards the shaded entrance where two trees form somewhat of an arch and it’s almost enticing, the hairs on his arms rising as his muscles clench on instinct. He catches it but for a moment, the feeling of being lured in, his body practically reacting on its own. The remaining leaves even flutter in the wind while the thin branches sway along to its rhythm, almost beckoning Renjun to dance along, the rustling lingering in his ears until it’s all that remains.

“I don’t like this,” Ten says, his breath visible in the cool air and dragging Renjun from his stupor, “You’re out here in the bogs of nowhere all on your own.”

“I’ll be fine,” Renjun clears his throat and rubs lightly at his arm, hoping that Ten hadn’t quite noticed the effect that even standing next to the forest just had on him. If Ten had felt even anything of that nature, he surely would have spoken up about it by now. Though even his fellow witch’s feathered familiars remain silent, and Renjun has yet to decide whether that should have him worried or not.

It’s something of a relief when he notices Hecate casually stroll by, prancing through the garden and around the back of the house to suss the place out, no doubt. Renjun can relax knowing that Hecate hasn’t yet noticed anything untoward.

The gloomy grey sky hasn’t really helped the manner, the clouds rolling in faster than he’d like though there’s not a drop of rain forecasted. It only helps to solidify Ten’s suspicions, especially when a sudden gust of wind whirls a pile of dried leaves directly into their path, causing one of Ten’s crows to abandon its post and send out a resounding caw.

Ten quietly gasps, his arms dropping to his sides as he focuses on the archway, the branches now barely blowing in the breeze, the presence that was seemingly once there now vanished, “There’s something in there.”

Renjun winces. It was almost like a test, an ineffective one if its intention was to coax them closer. This wouldn’t be the last of it, however, if anything it could only be worse. Whatever entity is embedded in the forest would try again, now that it knows who it’s dealing with.

“I know,” Renjun’s words come out as a whisper, “I felt it too, even last night when I stepped out of the car for the first time.” Renjun immediately regrets that last tidbit when Ten turns to him with widening eyes, “I’m fine, Ten—”

“Anything strange about the landlady?” He says sternly.

“No, nothing at all,” He shakes his head, and it’s the truth. If anything, she seems knowing and he’s been inclined to trust her from the get go.

“Any banshees?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

“Good…” Ten sighs dramatically, though Renjun knows he’s only acting like this out of genuine concern, “Considering the only one living around here is you.”

In that instant, Ten holds out his arm and a raven is already approaching at speed before Renjun can even blink, landing effortlessly on the dark material of Ten’s coat. He gives the bird a subtle scratch, already readying a treat from his pocket with his free hand and offering it up, “You’ll look after Renjun for me, won’t you, hm?”

“You’ve already set up a patrol, huh,” Renjun half laughs, though it's somewhat comforting to know that he and Hecate won’t be entirely alone out here—Well, at least alone with whatever lingers beyond the shadowed archway that lies before them.

“Well, if I had told you that I was going to beforehand, you would have said no, am I right?”

Renjun can’t even deny it, so Ten grins at his silent response, “You’ll call me if anything ever happens. Anything.”

Renjun takes a second to answer, wondering for a split second if he was talking to the bird because honestly, he wouldn’t put it past Ten to train his fleet to somehow use modern communication devices.

The conversation he had the previous day with the landlady steeps at the back of his mind at how there’s a general lack of reception here except for the ever so reliable landline that she swore would work every time, though he has yet to try.

“Yes, yes, I’ll call—” He manages to get out before Ten’s hands land firmly on his shoulders.

“I’m not too far of a drive from here, literally just the next town over. If you need anything, you call, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Ten says a little more gently this time and Renjun already knows that he and Yangyang have been concerned for his state of mind ever since his partner had recently passed.

They had barely let him come here in the first place, at first even insisting that he move in with one of them instead, but this was his partner’s long-term wish, and Renjun was going to see it through no matter what, even if only for a little while. He felt he owed him at least that much.

“I’ll take care.”

Ten finally releases him, taking one last glance over his shoulder before facing him again, “And no going into that damn forest alone!”

“Yes, yes,” Renjun drones on, shortly before parting with him for the evening.

🌿

Over hill, over valley, through bush, through thorn, over park, over fenced-in pastures, through water, through fire. I wander everywhere faster than the moon revolves around the Earth.

Renjun, of course, almost immediately elects to ignore that warning. Instead, he’s up at the crack of dawn, fully dressed and staring down the forest archway once more. Not even Hecate had awoken from his slumber as of yet, though he can only be glad that the cat is already growing accustomed to their new living situation and let him sleep for now. Breakfast for two could wait, especially when he already finds himself inching towards the two trees, hands at the ready at his sides.

He slightly regrets pulling on the first comfortable hoodie and sweatpants he saw at the top of his suitcase, the fabric feeling a little worn and threadbare in the early morning fog. It’s probably best he give up on ever keeping his daily attire in pristine condition from now on, with how the grass permanently paints his shoes with green streaks and the cleavers stick with purpose to his pants, as if to hold him in place.

He finally makes it to the archway formed by two large trees, likely standing tall long before the village ever formed around them. He steps through with both caution and curiosity, leaving behind the morning light and residing himself in the oncoming shade. He takes one last look back, seeing the sun peeking through the gap in the branches until the rest of the foliage takes over, blocking its ray from his path.

It’s almost like a different world already, one where the sounds of the sea and cars bustling down the road beside them are but a memory. Here he stands alongside nature alone, and whatever it is that lies within. The air is different here as he proceeds forward, immersing himself in every crunch of the earth beneath his feet, the buzzing of nearby insects, the flutter of the leaves.

Two paths fork out in front of him before he could even notice, his feet practically stumbling onto them while he was staring off somewhere else. One path veers off to the left, continuing the trail he had been walking along all this time, though the other reveals another archway of sorts, a less trodden path with a tree on each side.

He’s drawn towards them like a moth to a flame, his hands reaching out on instinct only to feel a stark contrast, the bark of one tree warm and dry and the other cold and wet. The possibility of even continuing along the other path is long behind him as he steps through the two trees, his hands eventually leaving their trunks as his feet muster on undeterred.

He isn’t quite sure if those trees had been here in front of him all along, either that or they had been shrouded from his senses all this time. The temperature, however, has noticeably dropped since he made this turn, the thick air damp and dull all of a sudden.

It’s only when he arrives at another split in the path up ahead that he decides to think about it for a moment. Whatever lies within is clearly influencing his decisions and leading him somewhere of their own design. That doesn’t stop him from taking the immediate right path, feeling a positive change in the wind and lighter on his feet.

Though even if he won’t admit it to himself, he feels the strange presence that he experienced yesterday still lingering in his bones, a presence that’s likely still watching him. He quickly ponders the thought that it may have taken note of his hesitation at the second fork, alluding him to take the less-fowl pathway under some sort of guise of safety.

The second that thought is solidified in his mind, it’s almost like a veil has been lifted from him, his immediate senses being washed in a layer of sounds and visuals that weren’t there previously, a clear indicator that the facade has failed to entice him further.

It’s almost too much for his mortal body to bear, his feet buckling between solid tufts in the earth, plunging him to the hard ground as his ears ring in the sounds of running water where only silence was previously. The wind is practically knocked from him, his elbows and knees bearing the brunt of the fall as his eyes squeeze shut of their own accord.

He blinks them open a moment later after wheezing a breath, half anticipating to be ambushed from whatever lurks in the shadows only to see a small ring of mushrooms inches from his nose. He springs back at once, careful to not disturb the dark green patch of grass as he shuffles backwards on the ground.

He soon clears his throat, his eyes wandering the immediate vicinity as he catches his breath, unable to stop the quiet laugh emanating from him. It’s a product of his nerves, no doubt, more of a release of tension than anything else but it helps when dragging himself back to reality, his laugh echoing amidst the tall trees.

He had his doubts before but there’s no denying it now, the fact that he’s just so happened to move in next door to a crop of fairies. Their typical patterns were becoming clearer to him, every move and angle he’s struck since he stepped through the initial archway proving to be an indication of their work. With that, he can feel some relief.

Though if it really was their presence that he felt yesterday, then it’s nothing like he’s ever experienced before from such creatures, which only leads his mind to wonder more deeply of their prowess, even if it’s not advisable to delve further. So much for sleeping easier after investigating the forest for the first time, and Ten would surely have his head if he knew.

He finds the ability to rise from the grass no longer than a minute later, not wanting to linger too long in their realm while he has more of his wits about him. He finds his way back to the second fork, heading left for one last exploration of the place, considering he might as well map a route out for himself while he’s already in this deep.

An excellent plan, wonderful, even, that is until the path suddenly ends abruptly, even though he swears it continued on and on just a moment before. He takes a subtle step backwards, not yet looking behind him as he stares down the version of the forest currently unfolding in front of him.

So it seems, he’s no longer wanted this way. They’re forcing him back to the second fork one way or another, so that’s what he does, cautiously turning around and following the path he just took, only it’s not the fork he meets in the end. Instead, he’s met with an entirely new sight, one that drives a sudden gasp from him at its sheer beauty.

The sun has made its appearance for the first time since he entered the forest, its glorious rays beaming down into the vast clearing that expands before him. He’s not quite sure if what he’s seeing is real or a product of fairy magic, because how could such an open space lie within the overgrown forest at the edge of the village all this time?

He soon sees the direction of the rays guiding down, channelling his gaze towards an old, stone well in the centre of the grass, thick with dark moss and ivy and clearly long out of use. He takes half a step forward before stopping himself, knowing if he moves any closer he’ll be dragged in and taken under the will of whoever had led him here.

He sets his foot back down, only to hear a worrying crunch. He hesitates before checking the sole of his shoe, finding a dead and withered sunflower caked along it. He doesn’t dare touch it with his fingers, soon realising that something is very wrong here.

The dazzling lights are a clean distraction from the desolation that surrounds him, now revealing itself the longer Renjun stands in the area. Every flower or plant that comes into view is wilting if it had managed to grow at all while the weeds aggressively dominate the space, the grass more of a putrid colour than anything he’s seen in the forest so far. The condition of the trees is quite abysmal, as if struggling to survive in the surrounding conditions, the soil crumbling and clearly having seen better days long ago.

He holds his hands close to himself, too worried to touch anything in fear he evokes the powers of an awaiting creature, or worse, drags up some nasty disease or sickness with him and trails it the entire way back to the house. He’s already lingered here too long, his skin tingling and the hairs beginning to stand at the back of his neck.

He steps back with a swallow, blinking as the rays shift with the cloud cover above. This had been just another illusion, another trick to draw him in. This is it, the epicentre of the entity. They know he is on to them, and now they are coming.

He knows he must stay calm yet vigilant. He doesn’t want to desecrate the earth nor the plants and trees in their vulnerable state, so he backs up all the way until he reaches the path again, pulling his eyes away from the well in search of a few small rocks to stack and mark the area with. He can only hope he doesn’t see the makeshift stack again as he travels back down the way in which he came.

The sounds of running water and the morning songbirds are long gone, as if trapped in a far off land that he currently cannot reach, as if the wildlife and insects in the area saw through the obvious illusions and knew it was time to flee. With that, he hears a sudden call, a voice calling out and sending a chill running through his very bones.

“Over here! Over here!”

Renjun spins around in a circle, letting panic take hold of him for a brief moment, eyeing every angle in front of his eyes but seeing no one, nothing but a subtle laugh echoing through the trees. He can’t discern if it’s one voice or many, the call coming again though this time from what seems to be the opposite end than before. He knows now he’s running out of time, he knows he has to act now.

So he rips off his hoodie, taking his t-shirt clean off and turning it inside out and slipping it back on as fast as his shaking arms can. He then ties the arms of the hoodie around his waist, anything to disrupt the pattern, anything to distort the image that the forest has seen of him until now.

It takes all his mental strength to keep himself calm, to not alert anything lurking that they’ve won or gotten their hold on him. He wants to run so desperately but wills himself to walk briskly instead and with purpose, though he can’t deny the tension and stiffness in his limbs as he strides. He doesn’t dare check his watch or his phone lying idly in his pocket, lest they catch him and decide to distort his concept of time and trap him in what would seem like a never-ending loop.

His only sign of succeeding is the fact that he has yet to come across the stack of rocks, not even daring to imagine them in his mind lest they can see him ponder that too. He only focuses on the environment immediately in front of his feet, accepting it to be reality and not something conjured up by the forest.

After walking for what seems like forever, he finds himself approaching the two trees he passed much earlier, one warm and dry and the other cold and damp and he internally lets out a sigh of relief. He can’t quite show his reassurance yet, not until he is out of the woods, however he can’t stop himself from increasing his pace when he sees and hears his breath appearing in the cool air, the birds tweeting in the near distance.

He breaks into a run in the final stretch, jumping through the two trees and continuing his speed until he sees the initial archway leading into the garden in front of his house, knowing if he turns back around as he is right now, he could be trapped there forever.

He immediately kneels in the grass, gasping for air but grateful for some familiarity, hearing the usually blaring sounds of cars and motorbikes zip down the road just down the lane. He even grabs a fist full of grass, staining his hands with it and noting their better complexion than what he just experienced, continually assuring himself that this is real.

He almost lets out a noise of surprise, his body half jumping when his phone suddenly rings in his pocket. His hands scramble to answer quickly, though his doubts resurface once more when he checks the screen and realises that it’s well past 5pm according to the display. He blinks at it in utter confusion, only then looking up towards the sky and seeing the red and orange streaks of the ongoing sunset, even though he swore it had only been just sunrise.

He has no time to ponder, instead waving away his worries for the moment to cautiously answer the call, forgetting to even check the name before holding the phone to his ear.

“Renjun-ah, how was your day?” Ten’s voice asks from the other end of the line, “I called you earlier but got no answer.”

Renjun blinks and clears his throat, still half in a daze with his other fist still gripping the grass, “Hm? Ah, it was fine.”

“That’s good,” Ten says, and Renjun’s only glad to hear his voice after his ordeal, “I’m only calling because Yangyang was trying to get in contact with you. He's planning on visiting pretty soon, I think. He managed to get a room in the local family-run hotel.”

“Ah— He could have stayed with me, I should have let him know.”

“No, no, he insisted it was fine, seriously, you need your space to settle in and— Are you okay? You sound a little… shaken.”

“I was— Uh—” He coughs, “I was just taking a nap just now,” he mumbles, trying to feign tiredness, not that it was difficult after all that running. It is imperative that Ten doesn’t find out about his little adventure, not after he had warned him not to go in there just the night before.

“Oh! Sorry for waking you. You should eat something to get your strength back. I’m sure unpacking is annoying.”

Renjun audibly sighs without meaning to, his mind fluttering to the piles of bags and suitcases he dragged from the trunk late last night after returning from the village and unceremoniously dumping in the hallway to deal with later. They still lay there now, and that’s when he gasps in realisation that he never fed the cat.

“Ah! You just reminded me, I have to feed Hecate,” he finally stands up on weary legs, thinking of the handful of groceries and cat food he managed to snag in the gas station convenience store on the way back from getting pub food last night.

“Okay, I’ll let you go and talk to you tomorrow. I just wanted to let you know about Yangyang,” Ten says as Renjun begins to walk towards the door.

“Okay, I’ll get in touch with him first thing tomorrow,” he says, fighting for his life while trying to remember the trick the landlady said to open the door.

“Are you sure you don’t need a hand this week?” Ten’s voice is suddenly dripping with concern.

“I promise, I’m fine. I’m gonna cook something for dinner. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay, talk to you then.”

Renjun closes the door behind him without looking back.

☀️

My soul is in the sky.

Renjun had his work cut out for him as early as dawn, somehow falling into a spontaneous deep-clean of the house in an attempt to delay thinking about his entire life in boxes still stacked in the hallway by the front door. The stale scent of mildew in the old house slowly fades away, only the crackling of the fire keeping him company on this cool autumn morning.

He hasn’t stepped foot outside since the last sunset, and he only retreats to the entryway when the morning condensation has long left the windows. He should probably pop down to the village to show face, or pick up some more groceries, or even find his way down and down to the coast and visit the sea.

His ambitious plans are quickly diminished by the pattering of rain across the windows by the door and by the sink, his eyes drawn to the garden just beyond which is otherwise in complete stillness. He averts his eyes, lest they be drawn to the forest again. Only then does he remember that he promised Ten he’d call today.

He moves to close the window and the world quietens even more, pulling down the screen soon after to keep any bugs or creatures from straying in. He turns at once when the wind begins to pick up, fallen leaves swirling into view. He finally drags himself back to the stacks of boxes and pulls one open as one rips off a bandaid.

Glass jars, scattered tins of herbs, old notebooks, and other miscellaneous ingredients for potion-making stare back at him. He grabs the box with a sigh and moves it to the counter, opening various cupboards to decide the best place to start until he finds a large, thick notebook tucked away in a corner.

He reaches for it, briefly wiping off the dust clinging to the cover and pages before flipping it open, flicking through the pages. It’s mostly filled with writings—lyrics and poetry written in ink in scattered intervals , occasionally interspersed with newspaper clippings, pressed leaves and flowers, handwritten letters—all dated decades ago. Some of the previous tenant’s belongings surely seem to have been left behind, which only makes him wonder if anyone has lived here at all in a very long time.

He lands on the cover page just as he’s about to close the notebook, a name handwritten in black ink in the corner of the page—Lee Donghyuck.

He closes the notebook with a soft thud, strolling over to the wall of empty shelves he has yet to put to use. The notebook feels heavy in his hand as he reaches for the top corner. He wonders if she should ask Mrs. Kim about it, or give it back to her, considering she owns both the land and the house. Maybe she still remembers the owner, or perhaps somebody has been looking for this the entire time, not knowing it was still here.

He doesn’t know if it’s the tiredness overtaking him or just something about this place, but he mostly ignores the flicker in the corner of his eye, thinking it’s just the cat until a more worrying rustling comes along with it. He turns briefly and suddenly stops with a gasp, his eyes widening at the tiny, glittering fairy in the midst of his various belongings still tossed along the counter. The notebook falls from his hand without him even processing it, the sound of it slamming to the ground shocking him to his very core.

He knows he has to remain calm and maintain his composure in the face of the unknown. Fairies were tricky, temperamental, and quick to change their demeanor. He slowly releases the breath he’s been holding, clearing his throat with a subtle hesitance but his voice slightly betrays him in the end, “H-How’d you get in here?”

The fairy stares intently for a moment before breaking into a smile. “Secret,” he cackles.

A thousand thoughts swirl around in Renjun’s mind, though he finds words tumbling from his mouth before he can stop himself, and he doesn’t know if it’s the fairy’s influence or otherwise. “I put a protection spell on the house, how did you get through?”

The fairy blinks, scratching the side of his head before raising a pointed finger to the left of Renjun, “He let me in.”

Renjun slowly looks to the empty corner but a shiver runs up his spine, a touch of fear prickling at him. It’s a trick, nothing more. It has to be. It would be wise for him to not heed the words of a fairy at such a vulnerable time in a strange land. Though, there is a slim chance that there really is someone or something standing right in front of him that only the fairy can see. He’s already sensed that something was off about this place from the moment he arrived. While all of this could be true, it could be equally true that all of this is a lie.

“Huang Renjun.”

Renjun looks to the fairy in horror at the sound of his own name, his own gasp dragging him back to reality where he still stands by the bookshelf. His eyes widen as the fairy sifts through a pile of unopened mail he’s ignored amidst the move—old bills, brochures, letters of condolences that he’s opened countless times only to hide away again before he can even begin to read them.

“H-Hey!” He points as he breaks into a dash across the room, reaching to slam a palm on top of the pile. The fairy squeals, holding his hands close to himself as if they were seconds away from getting sliced off.

He hesitates before he speaks again, knowing he needs to snap out of it if they are both to come out of this unscathed, “Those are… Private.” He gulps, looking directly at the fairy who doesn’t even blink, unmoving. He quietly slides the letters into his grip, taking them from the counter and putting them behind his back, though he knows it’s already too late. The fairy has learned his name.

“What is your name?” Renjun asks with more composure, considering it only fair.

The fairy seems to relax at that, resuming his sift through the box of miscellaneous things on the counter in front of them. Renjun doesn’t dare move, only watching him intently.

“Haechan.”

Renjun raises a brow, somewhat surprised at an answer, “Is that your real name?”

Haechan hums in reply, pulling a dandelion and various leaves right out from Renjun’s stocks. “Hmm, I don’t know,” he snickers.

“Okay,” Renjun clears his throat, a light flickering across the window just ahead of them, “You should… go. I’m uh—Busy,” He breathes, scratching his head with his free hand more out of nervousness than anything else.

A crash of thunder startles them both, enough for Renjun to jump where he stands and for Haechan to drop everything he had just been holding as they both glance towards the window.

Haechan turns to him with a distinct pout and weary eyes, “Must I go?”

Renjun sighs as he eyes the sudden deluge of rain now battering the outside world. One one hand, he wants a fairy far from his home, and his life, whichever comes first. On the other hand, he risks the wrath of the whole troupe if Haechan returns to them with tales of their horrible no-good new neighbour, since there are undoubtedly more of them in the forest if one is this bold to come so far into his home.

“The rain is an issue,” Renjun admits.

Haechan sways and looks out to the rain like a kicked puppy, “I can just use a leaf.”

“But your wings…” Renjun rubs his face, hearing the rumbling of thunder far in the distance, “Did you plan this, hm?”

He looks to Haechan again, waiting for a reply that doesn’t come. The fairy’s head is still fixated upon the window, his head tilting at something just outside. Renjun catches on a little too late, only then noticing the black mass approaching the window at a dangerous speed. He’s frozen stiff, mouth open for a mere moment until impact, causing him to drop the letters all over the floor when he notices the dark crow unceremoniously slide down the glass and onto the windowsill outside.

“Oh!” He shrieks, his eyes scattering as Haechan, for lack of better terms, freaks out, his tiny voice screaming surprisingly loud as he buries himself deep within the box of ingredients on the counter. Ten wasn’t kidding about the crows looking out for him, though it feels more like they’re lurking outside like vultures, waiting for him to slip up. Ten was right to worry, since he already has.

Renjun frantically gathers his letters again and stumbles to the window while Haechan is still scrambling around in the box. He holds them under his arm as he quietly pleads with the crow, who’s probably still in a daze post-crash. “Please, don’t tell Ten,” he whispers, hands clasped in desperation. The crow flies off soon after, much to Renjun’s chagrin and seeming to have paid no mind to his pleas. Okay, looks like Haechan gets to stay—

His thoughts are quickly interrupted by the distressed mewls of the cat. He whirls around with expectant eyes, seeing Hecate in a defensive stance, ears flattened and tail puffed. Haechan stands in one corner of the box looking positively terrified and seconds away from passing out, by human standards at least.

“Haechan…” Renjun slowly approaches, “Looks like you’re going to have to stay put.”

Haechan shakes his head in distress, “No, he’ll eat me.”

“He won’t—” He groans, stepping closer, “Hecate! No eating our guest, this is Haechan.” Hecate scowls at him but Renjun holds his ground, watching as the cat takes a quick sniff of Haechan who’s quivering where he stands, eyes shut tight. Hecate finally gives up a moment later and slinks away, though Haechan seems ever cautious of the looming feline threat.

He slowly backs away, thinking of the best place in his room to stash his mail. He wants to keep pottering away at the ever growing list of tasks he has to complete, but his unexpected guest has seemed to foil all his plans for the rest of the day it seems. He has to be cautious with fairies. He doesn’t know Haechan’s motive and it’s unlikely he’ll get one out of him anytime soon.

He returns not a moment later, his gaze scanning the room in a quiet panic only to find that Haechan has moved to the boxes in the hallway, deciding which one will be his next victim. Renjun gives up at this point, slumping down into a chair while he watches the fairy slump in disappointment, this box clearly not piquing his interest.

Haechan works mostly in silence for now, turning every so often to glance back at Renjun keeping a watchful eye, not exactly to gauge his reaction to what he’s poking around in, but to just to look at him for a reason Renjun has yet to figure out.

Why here? Why now? Has this been the fate of everyone who’s ever moved in here? Is this why the place hasn’t seemed to be occupied in decades. At least Renjun can see fairies, but those none the wiser may have run for the hills the second they saw their belongings entirely disappear or mysteriously move across the room of seemingly their own accord.

He’s heard his own fair share of horror stories, endless tampering, houses being swallowed by the earth, people being driven mad, or never seen again, to only name a few. While Haechan doesn’t seem entirely malicious and is mostly interested in searching for flowers, it’s still much too early to tell why he’s here at all.

Hours seem to pass within minutes as Renjun watches him, the hand on his watch going round and round as Haechan climbs up a sleeve of one of Renjun’s sweaters stacked in a box. While letting his pressing tasks fade into tomorrow was easy work for him, he realises too late that he’s forgotten to eat, and sleep overtakes him before he musters the energy to get up again.

—

Renjun wakes in the dark to a mysterious sound, the ominous ringing of a phone that’s completely unfamiliar to him. Only the light of the moon begins to illuminate the room as his eyes adjust, and then he remembers where he is—alone in the night in the middle of nowhere, far from home, far from the life he once had, now faded to nothing.

The ringing drones on, and then it occurs to him that Mrs. Kim mentioned a landline. He awkwardly stumbles to his feet, the world spinning at getting up too quickly before striding across the room with his arms reached out. He finds the phone on the wall by the door, not quite understanding what possesses him to pick it up without even checking who’s calling.

“H-Hello?” His voice comes out as barely a whisper.

Ten sighs loudly in relief on the other end, “You’re okay. I was worried sick here. You said you’d call. Yangyang and I have been trying to reach you for hours.”

“Hours…?” He says in disbelief, and then with a gasp he realises he must have fallen asleep on the chair while a fairy pranced through his house unsupervised for an entire day.

“I was seconds away from getting a taxi and going to you myself, or recruiting some owls for the cause to stop by and check on you. But—” He pauses to breathe, “Thankfully as I was able to get your number from Kun. Hell, I should have sent him over to check on you, now that I think of it.”

“Who’s Kun?” He rubs his eyes, still half in a daze.

“That’s a story for another time. How are you? Do you need anything? I can come over.”

“No, no, I’m fine, I swear,” he insists, not wanting to trouble Ten more than he already has, “I fell asleep on the chair and only woke up because I heard the landline ringing. I don’t think I get much reception on my own phone out here.”

“Ah—I’m sorry I woke you. You’ve probably had a long week, go back to sleep. I can call tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait—” Renjun blurts out, “Don’t go yet.” He clings to the phone with both hands, his feet feeling the chill of the draft from the door behind him. He’s utterly surrounded by silence, the storm long passed and the soothing pattering of the rain on the windows no longer there to fill the empty space. He doesn’t see nor hear Haechan, and seeing Hecate sleeping soundly in his bed can only be an indication that the fairy too has long since left.

“Renjun-ah?” Ten’s voice says into the otherwise eerily quiet room. His eyes are drawn to the spot next to the bookshelf, the one Haechan pointed to earlier to claim that someone had let him in. The countryside is much quieter than the cities he’s been used to, and it’s been a little too easy for him to slip into less desirable thoughts in the confines of the more lonely nights.

“Sorry,” Renjun breathes, “I was just thinking about what someone said to me earlier.”

Ten doesn’t reply for a few moments, long enough that Renjun checks the receiver to see if the call has somehow ended until Ten’s voice drops to something a little more serious, “I know it’s late, and I wasn’t going to mention it until tomorrow but—”

Renjun freezes, thinking maybe he should have taken the other’s advice and just gone straight back to sleep while he was still floating at the surface of not being fully awake. He’s not sure if he’s quite ready for this conversation until Ten speaks again.

“I heard you let a fairy in.”

Renjun’s stunned face melts into a disappointed sigh, one hand leaving the phone to cover his face, “I didn’t let him in. He left himself in.”

“So, it’s true! A fairy, Renjun-ah!” His voice suddenly rises, “This is concerning, I’m worried, we’re all worried. I thought the protection spell worked—”

“The spell worked! I can still feel it, trust me—”

“How did he get in—”

“I don’t—” He drags his gaze from the empty spot by the bookshelf, his voice faltering, “I don’t know. He—” He pauses to gather his breath, shivering as the chill had set in his bones in his much longer than intended nap earlier, then it all comes out at once, “He said that someone let him in and pointed to an empty space next to me and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

He can almost hear Ten’s entire being warp into confusion, “What?”

Renjun eyes the spot once more, “What if he wasn’t lying, what if there’s someone here—”

“He’s just messing with you—”

“How else would he have gotten in? There has to be something else going on, there has to be someone—”

“I know what you’re thinking and I’m telling you, as a friend,” Ten interrupts, “It’s a trick, Renjun-ah. He’s a fairy. You’ve probably spent too much time around him today. Who knows how much damage he’s done already. You should sleep it off, I’ll check on you in the morning, okay?”

Renjun is still holding his breath. He wants to believe him, he wants to believe that this is all a trick, that fairy magic is tormenting his mind even now, but deep down he knows that there’s been too many coincidences lately to entirely write off the alternatives buried deep in his mind.

“What if it’s him?” He says quietly and desperately.

“It’s not him,” Ten answers immediately, “He passed from this world long ago. He is beyond, we know this, we’ve confirmed this. He’s safe now.”

Renjun’s voice is wavering, his hands beginning to tremble as they tighten around the phone, “Then why was he so set on coming here? He knew I would still come, regardless. What if he—”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that he loved this house from the moment he saw it, and I know he loved you. With that in mind, I know he wouldn’t haunt you from the grave. I know you’d believe that too, Renjunnie.”

Renjun subtly smiles, gaining back some of the strength he had lost in the last few hours. He should sleep now at least until dawn. It’s what his friends would want, it’s what he would want, and this new beginning is something he should want for himself wholeheartedly after all he’s been through. He’s come too far to remain clinging to the past.

“He knows my full name,” Renjun almost laughs, a smile still curled on his lips.

“Who does?”

“Haechan does, the fairy.”

Ten verbally curses him out on the other end, though at least at arm’s length away from the phone until all that’s left is distant mutterings. He returns a moment later, his voice much louder now to the point that any fairies lingering outside could probably hear, “You’re kidding me—How?!”

“He read my mail.”

“I’m coming over in the morning,” Ten says more sternly.

“No, no, you don’t have to, really,” Renjun laughs, “Thank you for calling though, I guess I just needed to escape the silence for a bit, hear a real voice.”

Ten sighs in defeat, the tiredness evident in the pair of them now, “Okay, then, have it your way. I’ll call you in the morning, how about that?”

“Perfect, talk to you in the morning. Good night, hyung.”

Renjun can’t help but smile as Ten mumbles good night and hangs up.

☕️

Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And stick muskroses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

It’s been several days since Haechan has left the realm of the forest, but it was a necessary detour from his plans. It took him this long to find the perfect flower worthy of Renjun’s precious little head. So, today, Haechan is on a mission, taking advantage of the late afternoon sunshine as he skips through the grass on route to the new neighbour’s house, the remnants of the storm now far beyond the nearby shores.

Usually he would take a more casual stroll to really soak in the sun’s rays and feel the subtle breeze on his skin, though he’s quickened his pace today, just enough to get to his destination a little faster but not so fast as to alert the one who’s been following him since he left the inner meadow that he’s been on to him this entire time. Though given the other’s nature, he’s probably known since the very beginning.

The grass is still tall enough to easily disappear into, just as he passes through the wooden archway just before the house. He bears the burden of a glance back, seeing his pursuer slowly making their way through the trail, a sight of him here and there as he strategically dips in and out of view, ensuring of course that no one follows them both.

Haechan clings to the stem of the musk rose he’s been carrying, realising that the giant, white petals may not exactly be the best camouflage material amidst the endless shades of green. He scurries off once he’s lost sight of his pursuer though he knows he doesn’t have much time until the other eventually catches up with him. Not long at all, in fact, considering that Jaemin is openly watching him once he reaches the vines on the walls of the house.

“You c-can’t come with me!” He shouts down as he begins to climb, never quite being able to keep his composure around him, “Only I was invited in. Only me!” He quickens his pace up to the windowsill, the flower stem safely tucked under his belt until he reaches the top. He rolls over the ledge with a groan, dusting himself off and grabbing the flower as he peers down, relieved to see that Jaemin seems to have disappeared. He snickers in victory until he turns around, only to find Jaemin leaning against the window on the opposite end, arms crossed.

“Ah! No… Get out of here!” Haechan stands his ground, though clearly trembling as Jaemin smirks at him, beginning to stand up straight again and make his way towards him.

Haechan gulps, “T-There’s no children here for you to torment, anyway!”

Jaemin only smiles, one foot continuing in front of the other, “Who said anything about children?”

Haechan breaks into a run, tightly grasping the stem of the flower before attempting to crawl through the small gap where the window frame is supposed to meet the outer wall of the house. He manages to squeeze through just in time to find that Jaemin’s outreached hand can’t seem to follow behind him.

Jaemin hums in curiosity, his hand seemingly hitting an invisible wall, “Why can’t I come inside?”

Haechan stares in awe while he catches his breath, soon standing up to make a face at the other in mockery, holding up his flower in triumph when Jaemin knocks at the glass with a deafening thud. Haechan stills when Jaemin’s gaze rises to something in the house, the other disappearing before he can even blink. Haechan already feels the large presence looming behind him when he turns around with wide eyes, seeing Renjun smiling down at him.

“Caught you,” Renjun leans his face close, “So, this is how you got in, huh?”

“Ah! Huang Renjun…” Haechan whines as he slumps in a puddle on the windowsill, “You scared me.”

“Who was that?” Renjun asks, peering over him to see outside the window.

“Huh? Who?” Haechan scratches his head as he stands up, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Renjun sighs, his eyes pouring over the fairy before holding out an open palm, “Is that for me?”

Haechan makes a subtle noise, holding the flower away from him, “I want to put it on you.”

Renjun seems to contemplate that sentence for a little too long before finally shrugging his shoulders, his palm still open for the taking, “Well, get on then.”

Haechan immediately blushes, his ears becoming more red by the second as he takes a cautionary step onto Renjun’s warm palm, sitting down until Renjun gently moves his hand closer to his shoulder so that Haechan can step on.

Renjun already smells like a comfort to him, the scent of wood sage and sea salt filling his senses as he clings to the soft fabric of his sweater. There’s way less boxes filling the house today than there was yesterday, which can only mean Renjun has already sorted them into cupboards, making it more difficult for him to snoop through later. This was a problem for another time though, since he still has more important matters to attend to this afternoon.

It takes him several tries until he finds an angle that he’s satisfied with, but he finally settles with perching the flower atop Renjun’s right ear, taking extra care to make sure none of the petals get damaged. He sits on Renjun’s shoulder and admires his work for a few moments, all the while Renjun potters around the kitchen, still cleaning up after eating.

He manages to catch a glimpse of some herbs, spices, and other miscellaneous ingredients while Renjun tidies up his things, his small hand reaching for the rack in front of them when Renjun is standing just a little closer to the counter.

Of course, Renjun then decides to take a step back, and Haechan almost risks falling off his shoulder altogether at the sudden movement, a whine emanating from him as he clings to the fabric of his sweater.

“No, those are mine,” Renjun says almost nonchalantly, and Haechan slumps in defeat, almost threatening to tear a hole in the sweater with how far he’s been stretching it.

“But I gave you a flower today,” Haechan sulks, moving to a crossed legged position while still grabbing the sweater for purchase.

Renjun releases a long and hard breath, opening the cupboard once more and staring at it for at least ten seconds before reaching for a sprig of lavender. He holds it out in front of Haechan without moving his head, but he soon mumbles a reply under his breath when he thinks Haechan is too distracted in grabbing it from him.

“Here, since it’s out of season and all. This is all you’re getting, though.”

Haechan receives it as if this is the first time he’s laid eyes on lavender in his life, almost falling backwards into the air as he clutches the stem close to himself, taking in its scent and letting the petals rub against his skin. He takes a few buds for himself, crushing them in his hand and patting them along Renjun’s sweater and even in his hair so that its scent will cling to him for now.

He stumbles into Renjun’s neck when Renjun suddenly strides across the room, his knees falling down behind Renjun’s collar but he has enough agility to cling to the edge of the shirt before he falls any further. In a split second decision, he decides to grab onto the ends of Renjun’s hair to pull himself back up, a choice he quickly regrets when a large hand comes barreling around from the other end to scratch the itch he’s now caused.

He scrambles back to his original spot on Renjun’s shoulder, thinking that maybe he should find some supplies and mend the slight hole he’s caused as he examines the loose threads, but finds himself falling into the relaxing and soothing scent of the lavender he had just left behind. While Renjun seems totally preoccupied with whatever he crossed the room for, Haechan briefly stands to place a kiss on the back of Renjun’s ear before scurrying away again with a giggle.

“You know you have a fairy on your shoulder, right?” An unfamiliar voice booms out a little too close for comfort in some unknown language, and Haechan shrieks, stumbling until he’s within the safe confines of Renjun’s collar again and not daring to look up.

“Oh, you can see him too?” Renjun’s gentle voice replies, “I suppose that’s a good thing.”

The newcomer cackles, closing the door behind himself as they stroll down the hallway and back into the kitchen, “Don’t worry, you’re not imagining him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Renjun takes a cloth, wiping down the counter one last time before turning to the other, “I figured it’s easier to keep an eye on him if he’s literally on my shoulder than him having free reign in the house where he’ll be mostly out of sight.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” the other says, plopping down on the chair and kicking back in a relaxed position.

“Oh, and Yangyang—” Renjun says, putting down the cloth and turning to him with a serious expression, “It’s probably best if you don’t mention a word of this to Ten.”

—

“So, shacking up with a fairy, huh?” Yangyang smirks as Renjun returns to the table with two drinks.

“That is not what is happening,” Renjun rolls his eyes as he takes a seat. The little pub off the main road is unusually busy so early in the evening on a chilly autumn’s night. He had barely made it back to the table in one piece, squeezing into the empty space beside Yangyang as the conversations from everyone around them drowns out almost all else.

“I don’t know,” Yangyang takes a sip from the glass, “He seemed pretty sad to see you go earlier.”

“I’m sure I’ll pay for that later,” Renjun says, watching a train of people head towards the toilets while shoulder to shoulder with everyone standing at the bar. He’s somewhat glad now that he managed to snag the table in the little nook in the corner by some miracle.

“There’s a lot of people here, huh?”

Renjun hums, “You wouldn’t think so since we’re in such a small village.”

“And here I was worried that you’d be all alone out here in the sticks,” Yangyang says as someone at the end of the train of people suddenly bursts into view, almost causing Renjun to spill his drink all over himself.

“Hi there, you must be Renjun,” the man says, being pushed against the opposite end of the table as the pair stare back at him wide-eyed.

“Uh, yes, how did you know?” Renjun asks.

“Ah, forgive me, I’m Kun,” he smiles, “Mrs. Kim told me all about you. You’ll soon learn that everyone knows everyone around here. We all tend to look out for each other that way.”

“Oh!” Renjun sits up in realisation, the cogs turning in his head, “Ten mentioned you, too. Thank you for helping out the other day, with the landline.”

“No worries, hope you’ve been settling in well. I think Mrs. Kim has left my number in your house somewhere,” he laughs, “If you ever need anything, anything at all. But you said it was Ten that mentioned me? Oh, man, what has he been saying?”

The man in question seems to materialise out of thin air just at the mere mention of his name, to the point that Yangyang half spits out his drink.

“All good things, all good things, I assure you,” Ten beams at him before quickly and quietly throwing a death glare in Yangyang’s direction, who immediately looks as if he’s lost all the blood in his face.

“Ten! You never told me you were stopping by the village tonight,” Renjun leans forward.

Ten actually seems to show some remorse at that, placing his drink on the table as his eyes veer away. “I should have mentioned it to you, but I didn’t think you guys would be here. I’m glad you’re getting out and about at least, with all the bad weather we’ve been having lately. I’ll stop by during the week to see how you’ve been settling in,” he says, making firm eye contact as he emphasises the last two words. Renjun gulps down another sip of his drink, hearing him loud and clear, that Ten would want him to have his little fairy problem sorted by then.

Now that the three of them have been coaxed into resounding silence, Kun clasps his hands before grabbing his wallet from his back pocket, “I guess the next round’s on me, then!”

—

One of the perks of living in a small village is that his home is now just a stone’s throw away from the pub and the centre of the village, even if he has to brave the tiny, rural road back in the pitch black and the dead of night. He only had a few drinks himself, yet he almost doesn’t even notice the cars reaching the speed of light since Yangyang’s arm is firmly clasped around him, protecting him from the road side.

They had bid their farewells to Ten and Kun who had decided to stay behind a little longer, though it seems Yangyang has been bursting at the seams since the moment the pair had joined them earlier in the evening.

“So, Ten and Kun, huh? What the hell was up with all that tonight? Who’d have thought,” he snickers as a massive lorry zooms by, almost taking them with it with the sheer momentum, “Every word we said after Ten arrived must have gone in one ear and immediately out the other.”

“I wonder how long it’s been going on,” Renjun squints against the headlights of oncoming cars, figuring that Ten must have been seeing Kun the entire time he’s been planning the move here. “You didn’t have to walk me back, it’ll be a hassle for you to walk all the way back to the hotel from here.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be back before you know it, I’ll text you.”

“I have no reception at the house.”

Yangyang groans, “I’ll text Ten, then. I’ll be fine, promise!”

Despite the dropping temperatures, he doesn’t feel cold at all as they walk into the abyss of this long and winding road that eventually ends at the sea, only guided by the light of Renjun’s phone and hoping he has enough battery to last the entire journey. When the cars aren’t whizzing by, there’s somewhat of a sense of serenity to this route. The smell of the night air easily overtakes his senses, dragging up memories of simpler times, under the seemingly endless scattering of stars across the night sky.

He’s not quite sure he’s ever seen so many before, to the point that he keeps looking up in awe and trusting that Yangyang will hold him in place as they move forward. He never quite had the opportunity to gaze up and see the same sky when he was living in the city. While thankful for the cool and cloudless night, he has mixed feelings about the fact that the first person he wants to ask about them is a certain fairy that still may or may not have malicious intentions with him.

He’s dragged from his thoughts with a sudden gasp, not at any risk of potential cars but at the sharp burst of sound emanating from the forest in the near distance, the birds cackling and chattering at each other as they walk along the road. Renjun’s not sure what to think, wondering why the forest is this alive so late in the night and that it might not be a good thing, but both the disturbance and his concerns seem to completely pass Yangyang by.

“Ugh, finally, this is the little road into your house, right? I thought we’d never find it.” He loosens his grip on Renjun somewhat, but still remains close at his side as they sliver in the grass, the sounds of passing cars fading in the distance while the light near the front door greets them like a beacon of hope.

“Come inside for a few minutes for tea, at least. I’d feel bad immediately sending you on your way after you’ve come out this far,” he says, glad for a little warmth leftover from the fire earlier as they step into the house. In all honesty, he’s somewhat glad for the company and is half-tempted to ask Yangyang to stay, if it weren’t for the potential possibility of Haechan still lurking about. He sheds his shoes, coat, scarf, and new high-vis vest, hearing the door close behind them with a silent worry of spending another night in the deafening silence.

There’s no sound or sight of Haechan from what he can gather once they stroll into the living space, Renjun heading for the kitchen while Yangyang attempts to revive the fire.

Tea at this hour had become somewhat of a nightly ritual since he had arrived, something to both warm and comfort him before falling into slumber. He gathers a few tablespoons of fresh chamomile flowers to calm his nerves, a sprig of mint, while the water boils. Though when he opens the cupboard to find the strainer, he finds it missing from its usual spot.

He surveys the counters, the sink, checks all the cupboards again for good measure only to turn up empty handed. He’s almost ready to forego his tea entirely when he turns back to the cups and finds the strainer curiously sitting close nearby. He reaches for it hesitantly, grasping it and giving it a proper look-over until he hears Yangyang call from the living room.

“I-I’ll be just a second!” He scrambles with the tea, throwing it together before making his way out of the kitchen. He’s glad to be greeted by a roaring fire, with Yangyang having made himself comfortable by sprawling along one side of the couch. He also can’t deny his relief that the coast seems to be clear and that Haechan wasn’t here when they arrived.

Yangyang smiles at Renjun’s return but slowly sits up straight at the sight of two cups, “Oh, when you said tea, you actually meant tea…”

“Hm?” Renjun says, still half in a daze as he places the tea down on the small coffee table, feeling the heat blaze across his skin.

Yangyang shakes his head, “Oh, nothing, thank you.”

The teacups still appear to be a little too hot, given that Yangyang moves to pick up the cup and quickly pulls back his hands, letting it cool for a little longer.

Renjun carefully holds the cup, resting it in his lap as he watches the fire crackle in front of him. If Yangyang wasn’t here he’d surely fall asleep here in no time, though he shouldn’t make a habit of falling asleep in front of the fire on the couch. A flicker of light glints in the corner of his half-lidded eyes, though it’s too far from the fireplace to be from the fire.

He sits up, checking to see if he needs to place the fire guard when something a lot more concerning comes into view. Haechan is barely managing to cover his mouth through his quiet laughter, hiding behind a vase not too far from Yangyang before disappearing from Renjun’s gaze.

Renjun panics, gasping as he stands abruptly, hot tea spilling down the sides of the cup and all over his fingers. He suddenly remembers the mystery of his briefly missing tea strainer and begins to piece two and two together. A nightly observation. A ritual. A perfect distraction.

“Wait, Yangyang—!” He shouts, half in dismay at the thought that he may unknowingly be giving Haechan ammunition by even speaking his name. He hastily snatches the cup from Yangyang with one hand, the other startled once more as more tea splashes across the floor.

He quickly takes a hesitant sniff of Yangyang’s cup. The smell alone is enough to turn his stomach, reeking of death and who knows what else. It’s enough to make him grimace, taking all of his might to not retch as Yangyang looks up in concern. “Don’t drink it—! I—Sorry, uh, I accidentally gave you my cup— I think I added some salt to this instead of—I’ll go make them fresh right away!”

Renjun takes both cups in hand and runs for the kitchen, hearing a worried Yangyang behind him as the door swishes behind him. Haechan is, of course, already standing there on the counter, leaning against a pot of sugar with a smug look painted on his face.

“You—” Renjun is practically seething, pointing a finger right at him though allowing no words to spill from his mouth. Haechan was still very much a fairy, after all, and it’s still too early to tell how far he’d go if he’s willing to pull a stunt like this out in the open. “Whatever you put in this is enough to kill a man.”

“Hm?” Haechan smiles, eyes closed and turning his nose up in the air as if to act coy, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Renjun rubs his tired eyes with a muffled groan, realising that it’s probably not safe to just pour these down the sink and expose whatever is in them to the elements or worse, into the water systems here. This is surely something he’d rather deal with in the morning, as the present moment had to be reserved for dealing with Haechan.

He takes a deep breath, placing his hands on the counter when all he desperately wants is to snuggle under a blanket by the fire, fall asleep, and preferably not wake up until well past dawn. He sucks in a breath when he feels warm hands ghost his own, his body stilling when Haechan, though with some difficulty, raises one of his fingers from the counter and gently kisses it.

Renjun pulls his hand away a little too quickly when Haechan lets go, examining it for some sort of magic only to find the sting that was once there is now gone, the minor burn left behind from the hot tea a distant memory, as if it never happened at all.

“Don’t worry, Huang Renjun, I’m here to protect you. They had—” He looks over Renjun’s shoulder as he leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Impure intentions.”

Renjun raises his brow in alarm, “What? Impure how?”

“Come closer” he whispers, pulling at the sleeve of Renjun’s sweater until he tilts his head towards him, “Closer.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed to Renjun that this could be another trap or some scheme of his, but at this point he’s too tired to care. He can feel Donghyuck’s warm hand again, however small, now against his ear, “They wanted to touch you under your clothes.”

Renjun closes his eyes and lets his head fall to the counter with a groan. Donghyuck unceremoniously falls over at the sudden movement with a muffled yelp. One of his fears has now come to fruition, the fact that Haechan can indeed, read minds to some degree, and he’s not sure he has the mental capacity in the present moment to ponder on what Haechan has picked up from the deep, dark abyss of Renjun’s mind. His words are not safe, and no longer are his thoughts.

On the other hand, the last time he’s felt the touch of a man was during his and Yangyang’s sloppy makeout session at a club not too long before he moved here, when he was feeling lonely and vulnerable after one too many, desperately in need of a shoulder—or set of lips—to lean on. If he had a coin for every time he and his fellow witch had made out, he’d have two, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice now.

Yangyang should probably never stay over, just in case.

“You’re lucky, Renjunnie,” Renjun raises his head at the new nickname, “I got here just in time.”

Renjun hears the door creak and straightens his back abruptly, his eyes darting to the door that Yangyang is peeking through, not too far from the spot by the bookshelf that haunts him.

“Who are you talking to?” He asks, concern spread across his face.

Renjun shakes his head, “No—No one, I was cursing myself for burning my hand. I—I just needed a moment.”

“Listen, I’m gonna head out, bear the roads once more before it gets too late. I’ll text Ten when I get back.”

“I—I’m sorry about this,” Renjun searches for words, “It’s been a long week.”

“I understand, get some rest, and something for that hand of yours,” Yangyang smiles, passing through the kitchen and into the hallway to grab his coat, “I’ll see you soon anyhow.”

Renjun bids him farewell, waiting until he’s out the door and long past the narrow lane to the road before slumping in the chair. Haechan is nowhere to be found.

🌻

One turf shall serve as pillow for us both; One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth.

Autumn quickly comes to a close, the weeks passing Renjun by so fast that Halloween is upon him before he can entirely prepare—bringing with it the end of the harvest season and the cool embrace of winter.

He still isn’t quite sure how he managed to convince Ten and Yangyang to let him fly solo this time round rather than spend the night together, though a quiet night in after the persistent heaviness of helping plan a funeral, moving, and settling into a new place over the last few months was gladly welcomed. Ten and Yangyang must have come to a shared understanding in that regard—that and the pair are likely accompanying Kun to some sort of community event for the occasion up in the village.

He’s set an extra set of ware at the table should the dead come knocking, pouring a glass of whatever wine was at hand, though any stragglers would likely pass the house right on by with the number of lights, wards and protection spells surrounding it.

Perhaps the thinning of the veil between worlds has been silently tormenting his mind despite his tranquil evening. He knows he shouldn’t be expecting anyone to be paying him a visit from beyond the veil, not after he and Ten confirmed that his former partner has long since passed on and was unlikely to return.

But the empty spot next to the bookshelf still taunts him, his eyes finding their way back to it whenever he finds himself idle, and as he sits here on the eve of the month of the holy souls, it’s becoming impossible to ignore.

He wills himself to look away, focusing on the other matter at hand, his scattered notes and findings he’s been gathering bit by bit since he moved here—drawings, paintings, journal entries on the forest. None of it makes sense, dead and withered sunflowers that blanketed the forest floor that day he ventured too close, the weeds growing to slowly overtake the space, the unpleasant odours, the canopies whispering to each other, struggling to survive.

He’s at a loss, and he’d probably find the root of the problem and come to a solution much quicker if he had involved Ten and Yangyang from the beginning, but the forest had called to him, and he thought it only right to see it through for himself in private, at least for now. Despite this, it’s long past dusk and the hours are slowly starting to eat at him.

He stares blankly at the sea of unanswered questions and scribbles and stands up abruptly, striding across the room until he’s standing directly in front of the empty spot in front of the bookshelf, practically ready to demand or summon anyone or anything lurking nearby to show themselves once and for all, until the large, thick notebook he placed on the top shelf steals his attention.

He slowly reaches, carefully pulling the notebook from the shelf and quietly slinks back to the desk, placing it next to his own notes. His hand moves of its own accord, casually opening the front cover again to reveal the name scratched in black ink in the corner of the page. He sits again, glimpsing through the pages one by one.

It’s more of a scrapbook than an actual notebook or diary—filled almost to the brim with an entire life, memories collected over a number of years. Old letters burst at the seams and threaten to slide out as he delves further, the pages yellowed with time and ink beginning to fade. Scattered passages and lyrics scribbled down in haste, all flying petals and shining heavens, sweet dewdrops on leaves and a sparkling blue gaze, a sunflower made of real sunlight, fresh as a daisy.

A few drawings tend to accompany them at times, the artistry leaving a little to be desired but showing their own charm nevertheless. Old concert tickets, event fliers, a dedicated spread to Michael Jackson, dated clippings from the local newspaper which is still going strong even after all these years. It paints a picture on its own—a man who Renjun never knew but once lived right here, and perhaps even sat in this very chair, compiling it to one day look back on.

Renjun gently handles any snippets that begin to come loose, sliding them back inside with care as he nears the end of the notebook, a handful of unused pages laying empty towards the back. He finally finds himself at the last used page, greeted by a swirl of black as one would make when begging a pen to give up the last few dregs of ink. The date is too faded, too smudged to read accurately, as if the letters warped on their own at the top corner of the page as Renjun veers closer. What he didn’t notice until now was the writing etched underneath.

There’s something in the forest.

Renjun’s hand freezes, his eyes hardly believing what he’s seeing, his mouth open but somewhat too stunned to gasp out loud. One thing’s for sure, Renjun isn't losing his mind. Something is in the forest, enough so that a seemingly ordinary man who lived here decades ago was able to recognise it too.

He remembers seeing a name on one of the cover pages somewhere, and his initial plan to return the notebook to Mrs. Kim or to at least ask around about who the previous owner was. His hand falls to the page, his fingers grazing the last sentence of writing before the notebook was once closed for a long time.

I think they’re going to take me.

“You’ve run out of ink,” A loud voice rings in his ear in the otherwise silent room. Renjun screams, his heart jumping out of his chest as he half rises to his feet, thinking someone, or something had finally strayed in. It’s only when he catches a glimpse of Haechan’s tiny figure standing in his usual spot on his shoulder does he take another breath, letting himself collapse back into the chair with a hand on his chest.

He curses under his breath, his other hand vaguely shaking where it rests on the page. He watches as Haechan slowly strolls down the length of his arm, his hand stilling when Haechan reaches it and steps off and onto the page, his back facing Renjun.

“When did you get here?” Renjun wheezes, though Haechan doesn’t answer. Instead, he begins stalking around the desk, staring at his gathered research on the forest before focusing on the notebook again.

Renjun continues, “It’s getting quite late, you know—”

“It was so dark,” Haechan says quietly, stepping into the centre of the black swirl of ink on the last used page.

Renjun looks out the window into the vast nothingness before turning back to him, wondering what exactly it is that Haechan can see out there that he can’t, if anything. It seems he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the weakened veil.

“I just wanted to rest,” Haechan’s voice croaks out, “I was out there for hours.”

Renjun leans forward, suddenly a little concerned, “You can rest here.”

“And cold,” Haechan says, still as ever, “I don’t like the cold.”

Renjun is much used to the cold at this point in his life, though it’s much colder now tonight than it usually is for this time of year. He’d have to revive the fire soon, “Mm, they said it might even snow.”

Haechan remains there, standing on the notebook with his hands clenched, his face mostly obscured from Renjun’s gaze. He looks stiff, uncomfortable, bone-chilled, and Renjun doesn’t even hesitate when he lets his hand rise, moving his finger to pat the dampness in Haechan’s hair, ruffling his crown of flowers. The fairy seems to relax at that, his hands unclenching and his shoulders becoming less stiff.

Renjun almost jumps in his seat again when Haechan turns abruptly, finally looking at him with a growing smile and widened eyes, “Huang Renjun! What are you doing?”

Renjun mirrors his grin when Haechan wraps both hands around Renjun’s finger, “Research.”

Haechan lets go, finding a sudden new lease of life as he prances around the desk. He flicks through pages and snoops through Renjun’s materials, likely seeing if there’s anything he can swipe.

He practically trips over it in his newfound excitement, a piece of cloth folded over on the table which he soon opens up, seeming to stop in his tracks when he sees it—a wilted sunflower Renjun had found not too far inside the forest entrance a day or two earlier.

Renjun is still scrambling for answers, though he hasn’t seemed to have gotten much further since the day he arrived. He had been checking the plants, the foliage, the wildlife—anything that might be out of the ordinary—disease, magic, or something he may have overlooked entirely. Maybe the forest is sick, or maybe there’s something in the soil, or maybe—He looks at Haechan who’s seemingly deep in contemplation, staring at it—Maybe it’s something else.

“Can I have one?” Haechan finally speaks.

Renjun sighs quietly, “It’s not fresh, wouldn’t you want another—? Hey—!” His hands hover as Haechan already begins dragging it alongside Renjun’s notebook on the table and climbing right on top of it.

“You never give me flowers!” He pouts.

“I give you flowers—!” Renjun protests before backing down, “Well, I gave you some lavender the other day… You want me to give you flowers?”

“I give you flowers all the time,” He huffs, sulking as he turns away, though he looks back with one eye half open and turns again when he sees Renjun still staring.

“Are you cold? Do you want a—uh—blanket?” He quickly struggles to find a smaller substitute.

“No!” Haechan, he says, although he settles down and lies across the sunflower nonetheless, watching Renjun with one eye half open for the next few minutes while he takes a few more notes.

The fairy’s eyes soon fall shut and Renjun knows he will soon follow. Before Renjun catches himself overthinking about it, he quietly closes Lee Donghyuck’s notebook and places it back on the corner of the bookshelf across the room.

—

Renjun wakes to the sound of a bird chirping in the nearby nest tucked away in between the roof and the gutter, just beyond the kitchen window. The cool morning sun shines in, illuminating the entire space in a soft glow and leaving the night of the living dead far behind. He had fallen asleep at the desk soon after, the pen in his hand having rolled away. He clenches at the chill, peering up to catch a glimpse of the dew on the grass outside and a touch of condensation on the window.

To his surprise, he finds Haechan still sound asleep exactly where he had left him hours beforehand, spread across the flower head, his hair bristling against the off-yellow petals. Renjun quietly snoops around, finding a clean, little handkerchief to softly lay over him, going as slowly as possible as to not wake him. He soon pulls on his own jacket from the hook on the door and goes for the fireplace. He will have guests soon and needs to start cooking.

🐑

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

“Do you think he’s home?” Xiaojun squints between two hands as he leans against the glass of the kitchen window, Hendery soon joining his side with a housewarming gift in tow, “The house looks empty to me.”

“It’s fine, he probably just popped down the village for a bit, either that or he fell asleep,” Hendery says, leaning against the window to look back at the overgrown garden.

“You don’t think this place is a little… sketchy?”

“Hm? What do you mean, there’s no one around here.”

“Exactly!” He sighs, “It’s too quiet. It’s a little… eerie. I feel like we’re being watched—Hecate!” He bends down to greet the cat who’s trotting towards them, smelling Bella who’s standing between them before allowing the pair to pet her.

“Hecate, have you seen Renjun, hm?” Hendery asks though the cat is too immersed in pets, delighted with the attention and audibly purring. Bella rounds them, pottering around the garden while Xiaojun stands once more. He half jumps when he realises the person standing beside him isn’t Hendery.

“Ah—Renjun! Where—Where did you come from?” He clutches a hand to his chest in surprise.

“The forest,” Renjun says nonchalantly.

“What—Uh, what were you doing in there?”

Renjun’s eyes widened for a moment before looking himself up and down, somewhat dotted with dirt stains and sporting a satchel full of samples he took while he had some spare time this morning.

Time always moved a little differently when he was in the forest, fading away almost twice as fast even on the outskirts. It seemed that he had let the day slide a little too quickly this time. He knows he’ll need to quickly change gears and pull on something else when he gets inside, fearing that Xiaojun and Hendery will casually let anything slip to Ten about his attire.

He replies with a casual “Nothing” after realising he had blanked out for a little too long, though it appears his friends aren’t entirely satisfied with that answer as they slowly stroll inside the house. He tells them to make themselves at home as he quickly checks the hotpot, though he probably shouldn’t venture on any more excursions to the forest while food is being prepared or when waiting on guests.

He can hear Xiaojun snooping around for the bathroom when he reaches the bedroom to change his clothes, the other mumbling about needing to go after the long drive and how they hadn’t stopped in the nearby villages. Ten and Yangyang would arrive shortly, the pair making their way up from the village together. He also had already accounted for a possible surprise appearance by Kun and made extra food in that regard.

After changing into something a lot more presentable, Renjun slips out into the hallway to see Hecate standing there staring back at him. Renjun raises a brow, walking towards him until he reaches the kitchen, seeing Bella transfixed at something on the counter. He doesn’t pay much mind, thinking it was food-related, until a familiar flash enters his peripheral vision and his heart drops.

He turns at once in a panic, forgetting that Haechan could and would just happen to show up at the worst possible time. The fairy had seemingly disappeared before he had left this morning to go to the forest, along with the handkerchief he had draped over him, but that's besides the point. He had gotten so lost in his endeavours and with planning the afternoon that the possibility of Haechan had slipped his mind entirely.

Bella is still, but cautious, probably not entirely sure what’s happening right before her very eyes. He silently begs her in his mind to not start barking and alert Xiaojun and Hendery who are luckily not in the room with them just yet, because this was not something he’s quite prepared to explain to his long-time, non-magically inclined friends. His guests were one thing, but knowing Ten and Yangyang are on their way, he has to move fast.

“H-Haechan, you’re still here?” He whispers, creeping towards him as to not even make a sound with his footsteps.

“Hm?” He hums, looking at him before tumbling head first into one of Renjun’s herb stashes in the open cupboard, “I was running errands.”

“Ah, I see…” Renjun clears his throat nervously before looking over his shoulder, though Xiaojun and Hendery still seem to be pre-occupied elsewhere. “Hey—Those are mine,” He says, unable to help himself despite the situation, seeing Haechan stuff some rosemary into his belt and eyeing the onions. “Really, a whole onion? How are you gonna even get that out of here?”

“Can’t I have some?” He replies, not even looking at him.

Renjun groans, rubbing a hand down his face, “Y-You should go, for now…”

Haechan stops in his tracks, somehow attempting to carry a whole onion by himself, “Why? Are you kicking me out?”

Renjun’s nerves tick up once more, his hands stilling at his sides knowing that it would be dangerous to provoke him any further, especially when he already has visitors. “Well—You don’t have to leave… Can you just—Go to another room?”

Haechan squints at him, “Why are we whispering?”

“I have guests—” He accidentally blurts out before stopping himself, closing his eyes in defeat for a brief moment. Haechan’s face immediately straightens, his eyes widening and Renjun’s heart begins to race as he practically watches the cogs turn in the fairy’s little head. Haechan is already climbing down from the cupboard, onion in hand when Renjun springs into action.

“No…!” He whispers harshly, putting a hand up to stop him similarly to how one would attempt to stop a cat from knocking things off of the counter, “You can’t go looking for them—Hey!”

Haechan grabs onto his hand, trying to climb over or fly away as Renjun scrambles to stop him without hurting him or his wings. “What is it? What are you trying to do?!” He pleads, though Renjun is already well aware of Haechan’s intentions given his previous escapades with his guests.

“What the hell is that?!” Xiaojun’s voice suddenly booms in the room and Renjun turns with a loud gasp, frozen in fear.

“H-Huh?” He says, trying and failing to act aloof.

“That! In your hand!” He points directly at Haechan who is also frozen in place in Renjun’s fist. Bella lets out a small bark between them while Hecate watches on from the hallway.

“This…?” Renjun gulps, pulling the onion from Haechan’s grasp with his other hand, “An onion?”

Xiaojun blinks at him as if he’s going insane, “No—! Oh, ah—! it’s moving, Renjun!”

“Ah… You can see him, huh?” Renjun whispers mostly to himself in defeat at this worrying revelation, placing the onion on the counter as he slowly approaches Xiaojun who takes a hesitant step back, “Sorry, hyung, but this is for your own good, probably.”

“W-What?” He asks, though Renjun is quick to press two fingers to the centre of Xiaojun’s forehead, watching his eyes close as he immediately collapses into a puddle on the floor. He would have softened the fall if he had any spare hands that weren’t occupied by a rosemary-stealing fairy. With this, he has limited time to come up with an excuse as to why Xiaojun is now in a deep sleep in the middle of his kitchen floor, but if he’s lucky, he won’t remember a thing when he stirs again.

“Look what you made me do!” Renjun whispers as he turns Haechan towards the floor, while Bella is soon trotting over to sniff Xiaojun as he lays there.

“I didn’t do anything!” Haechan whines as he wriggles in his grip, desperate to get out.

“Please, can you hide for a little while, even in my bedroom if you want!” He pleads as Haechan ponders, pouting in return, “They’re not witches and they don’t know about fairies.These two aren’t trying to touch me under my clothes this time, I promise you—!”

“Hey, I got the fire going again and—Wait, what happened?!” Hendery says as Renjun whirls around, the other exasperated as he enters the kitchen to find Xiaojun at his feet, “Xiaojun?!”

Renjun freeze-frames once more, seeing Hendery with hands held up in confusion in the air, his eyes drifting from one person to the other.

“Renjun—?! A little help?” He asks concernedly, looking at him expectantly before he leans down to check on Xiaojun. Though Renjun’s heart swells in relief, this can only mean one thing, that Hendery can’t see what’s still in Renjun’s hand.

“I—Uh—Sorry, I was grabbing some… onions and I turned around when I heard him fall!” Renjun’s voice rises with the lie though he can only hope it comes off as shock at the situation at hand, “I think he was complaining about being tired after the long drive.”

Hendery’s palm is placed on Xiaojun’s forehead, his face melting into worry as he calls out his name and gives him a gentle shake, “Weird, why does he feel like he has a fever? Renjun, you elevate his legs. I’m going to the car to grab some things, I’m sure we have some drinks and medicine in there.”

Hendery quickly slips out, swiftly followed by Bella as Renjun stands in the middle of the room. Knowing that the coast should be clear for a few minutes, he decides to place Haechan back on the counter, “If I put you down, will you behave? Disappear for a few hours, hm?”

Haechan checks his wings, swivelling from side to side as he thinks about his answer, “Hm…”

“You can have the onion and the rosemary.”

“What about flowers?” He says seriously.

Renjun sighs, rubbing his eyes for a moment and wondering what he ever did to set off this chain of events. This wasn’t how anything was supposed to go down. “Fine, I’ll personally get you some flowers, how about that?”

That answer seems to satisfy the fairy, who’s already content enough to start grabbing his onion and making some sort of great escape. At this point, Renjun begins to hear a barrelling of voices just outside the window, but before he can even step towards Xiaojun, another voice speaks out from behind.

“Hey! Hendery just ran past me on the way to the pharmacy but I brought the booze, just as you ordered!” Yangyang rounds the corner with a spring in his step, bottles in hand until he stops abruptly, the smile on his face slowly twisting into confusion.

His eyes flicker down to Xiaojun, though he doesn’t say a word as he slowly crouches to the floor, placing the bottles down quietly and reaching for his shoulders. His gaze then rises to Renjun, squinting as he takes in the entire scene, the cogs turning in his head as his eyes dart back and forth between Renjun, and Haechan frozen mid-escape, onion in hand.

Yangyang points a finger right at Renjun, “This was your doing!”

Renjun scoffs, raising a hand to his chest and dismayed at the fact that Yangyang would even think to blame him—Although, he is correct… He must have picked up the remnants of Renjun’s magic from Xiaojun, surely, that can be the only explanation.

“How could you say that?! It was him!” Renjun points at Haechan who proceeds to drop the onion on the table under the weight of this sheer betrayal. Renjun half regrets it for a split second, a wave of fear washing over him as Haechan raises a hand. He is still a fairy, after all, and deliberately provoking him is a sure recipe for disaster. In any case, the dominoes had already begun to fall long before this turn of events.

“No! It was all him!” Haechan desperately defends himself. Renjun is almost taken aback at Haechan’s response, the fairy’s hand pointed right at him. Though, when he thinks about it for a second, with the potential of Haechan’s power aside, the presence of not one, but two witches in the vicinity may already be weighing on him—Not to mention the scatter of non-magical guests that he wasn’t prepared for. All he came for was the onions and some herbs, but now there’s a little too much magic in the air, enough for it to tingle their skin and keep them all on edge.

Yangyang suddenly stands, hands empty as he takes a step over Xiaojun and the fairy clearly panics. Renjun only catches a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but his heart drops in his chest when he hears a tiny snap of fingers. Haechan had indeed promised to disappear for a few hours, but he hadn’t quite promised not to leave terror in his wake one last time before hopping on his merry way.

Renjun can’t help the shallow gasp that falls from him as Yangyang morphs before his very eyes, his body frozen in shock as the witch before him shrinks in size, his limbs transforming into something else entirely, his head taking a new shape, his clothes sprouting wool—an otherwise perfect illusion—a sheep. It’s powerful fairy magic, clear as day. There was no doubt about Haechan’s skills any longer.

“Haechan…” Renjun subtly croaks in horror, his mind racing, knowing that this can’t possibly be scratching the surface of the kind of magic Haechan can wield. Renjun has been playing with fire for far too long. “What have you done?”

Haechan is pushing back hair from his forehead before scratching, gazing upon his handiwork, “Doesn’t he look like a sheep?”

Renjun holds his head in his hands as Haechan begins to gather his things once more, scrambling for ideas on how to rectify the situation. Xiaojun will surely wake up any moment now, so Renjun either has to immediately whip out a safe and effective counter spell or fabricate an alibi at the drop of a hat as to why there’s suddenly a sheep in his house. He’s not entirely sure he wants to risk asking Haechan to help him out in any case.

Renjun’s sighs of despair are quickly interrupted by Ten’s voice vibrating through the door. Renjun stills once more, though surely this never ending cascade of unfortunate events must end here, not before they both deservedly get reprimanded, however.

“Why is it so cold in here?” He says, letting out a shuddered breath as the sound of the front door closing quickly follows. Renjun listens to the footsteps inch closer one by one until Ten’s slick figure comes into view. The other’s eyes widen for a single moment as he pauses his movements in the kitchen doorway, surveying the situation before his piercing eyes make a beeline for the pair of them. Renjun can almost telepathically hear the earful he’s going to get from Ten later after all is said and done. So much for dealing with their little fairy problem.

Haechan surprisingly gasps, practically tripping over his onion in an attempt to steady himself as he whirls around to face in Ten’s direction. He moves cautiously, though he makes no effort to speak or raise his hands. The fairy ultimately recognises the most powerful being in the room when he sees it.

“So,” Ten finally taunts, sporting a toothless grin as he drops his bag and slips off his coat, placing it across the back of one of the kitchen chairs, “We’re going to settle this civilly. Who did this?”

No words are uttered as Renjun and Haechan immediately point at each other.

Ten folds up his sleeves with a sigh, immediately preparing himself for damage control, though not before subtly sliding his phone out of his pocket and taking a quiet selfie with their new mutton friend. The sheep sounds out in protest, the definitive baa echoing throughout the room, though it’s much too late for voicing concerns. Yangyang is never going to hear the end of it.

🏹

Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell. It fell upon a little western flower, Before, milk-white, now purple with love's wound.

“What are you plotting, Haechan?” Mark asks as he clears the path of rocks and debris left behind by a recent tirade of woodland animals. They’ve become more antsy lately, the behaviour worsening day by day as the depths of winter draw near.

“What? Me? Nothing new,” Haechan answers nonchalantly, leaning against one of the tree stumps and half paying attention as Mark plucks out a particularly large weed. Haechan only looks over when Mark almost falls over at the sheer force required.

“I already know you’ve been spending a lot of time over at that house. You disappear for hours,” he grumbles, aggressively tossing a large twig to the side.

“Am not!”

“Yes, you are!”

They turn to each other in silence, fists curled, staring each other down. Ultimately, Haechan backs down, stepping back against the tree once more, knowing he’d be no match for Mark’s power as he is right now.

He’s never quite the same after the changing of the seasons. He and the cool winter had never quite seen eye to eye. He has always thrived in the sun, the eternal summers spent in the forest under its watchful gaze. In the path of the cool sunset breeze, he can already feel his power waning.

The rude sea is becoming untamed in the near distance as the stars begin to flutter into view. He turns his back against the cold moon, feeling the rough bark beneath his fingers to remind himself to remain in the here and now.

Mark is mumbling under his breath, probably hoping that Haechan is listening to his every word, but Haechan is now too distracted by the movement down the grove to fully pay attention. He’s sure he’ll pay for his little escapades to the house sooner or later, but the more immediate threat is now watching him from a distance.

Jaemin and Jeno are huddled close, their distinct figures stark against the dark ivy, their whispers reverberating amidst the tall grass separating them from Mark and Haechan. He shudders when Jaemin now turns to fully face him, but he doesn’t let the other get even a breath closer before he breaks out into a run, ignoring Mark calling out to him in confusion as he whips through the grass and into the shrubbery.

Twigs scratch at his face and weeds paint his legs and clothes in green as he rips his way through the mostly blocked pathway. It’s clear he and Mark still have a lot of work to do in terms of clearing the wilted plants, but the amount of illness and decay surrounding him is a lot more prominent this year than in previous years.

The magic fills the air and mingles with his senses, dulling his mind as he desperately tries to cling to the present. He runs his hands along the grass strands, lest he blacks out like before and loses more waking hours. He only slows when he hears rustling from above, an arrow piercing through the dusk high above on one of the branches.

He crouches low to the earth, taking a hesitant look back with bated breath to check if he’s been followed. He should be out of sight from the newcomer despite stumbling his way into this clearing. The winter has been harsh so far, the harvest season long behind them. He’s already given Renjun some honeysuckle, a few primroses and snowdrops, but it’s the isolated pansies a few paces ahead of him that catch his attention.

He takes a step forward, stopping in his tracks when voices rise directly above him. He freezes on the spot, fearing it’s Jaemin and Jeno or someone they’ve sent after him, but he relaxes again when Chenle’s distinctive laugh flies through the air.

“Aw, why can’t I give it a shot? I bet I could do it well, I’ve been practicing!” Chenle says, eyes fixated on Jisung’s bow.

“I’m sure you could but it's been too dangerous out here lately—Wait, what do you mean practicing?!”

“Just one shot,” Chenle beams, entirely ignoring his question.

“No, you’re not ready.”

“You show me then.”

Jisung audibly sighs, and Haechan knows even by the sound that he’s not going to outright refuse him.

“Fine,” Jisung says before the arrow suddenly peers again just beyond the trunk, the bow held firmly by Jisung’s hand. Though, not a second later the bow jolts to the side, a loud gasp filling the air as the arrow runs free. Haechan stumbles back immediately, losing his balance and falling on his back as Cupid’s fiery shaft quenches in the beams of the watery moon, inches from his feet.

“What are you doing?! Someone could have gotten hurt!"

Chenle’s faint snickering begins to disappear and Jisung’s raised voice quickly follows as the pair descend from the tall branch into the darkness, heading in the opposite direction. Haechan throws back his head in relief, catching his breath before standing up again.

He marks where the bolt of Cupid fell, a little pansy blooming in the moonlight, once milk-white, now stained purple with love’s wound. He gazes at it in awe, stepping forward as his breath becomes visible in the cool night air. It almost looks like a heart, steeped in Jisung’s amorous powers. He carefully plucks it, holding on to it for dear life and not quite paying attention as he turns around, directly bumping into someone else.

Haechan shrieks, checking the petals with worry before looking up, “Ah—! Mark! What are you doing? I thought you were—Uh—Jaemin.”

“More importantly, what are you doing?”

Haechan gasps, the pieces in his plan practically forming on their own, “Mark, you must come with me, I need your help.”

“What? What is it?”

“No time to explain, you must come now! I have a plan…” He begins to run again, dragging Mark with him and disappearing into the trees.

💘

The course of true love never did run smooth.

“This is a terrible idea,” Mark’s voice wavers as Haechan drags him by the wrist towards the edge of the forest, “I don’t think we should be doing this. I warned you not to come near here.”

Haechan sighs, whipping through the tall grass, “It’s fine, I’m always here.”

“What?!”

“What?” Haechan stares, dropping to a crouch and dragging Mark with him. He looks to the window then, seeing light from within but no sign of movement. A single crow stalks them from the nearby lamp post, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan.

He slithers closer to Mark who moves out of the way on instinct, “Will you stop moving? Don’t look now but the crow over there is watching us.” Mark’s head automatically turns on instinct and Haechan hangs his head with a quiet groan. He had just gotten the cat to go easy on him and doesn’t need an entire flock at his heels anytime soon. “He reports to the other witch so we have to be careful not to set it off.”

“Witch?!” Mark whispers in panic, “Other witch? There’s more of them?!” Mark heaves as Haechan grabs him by the wrist again and flies off unexpectedly, soon landing on the windowsill as Mark scrambles on his feet. Haechan immediately looks to the crow, watching him preening in the flickering light and a part of him relaxes.

“Are you serious right now?” Mark whispers a little too loudly, prompting Haechan to shush him and drag him close to the glass.

“You’re going to set off the birds.”

“Birds?! It’s past dusk!”

The forest suddenly spurs into life with a cackle of caws and Haechan and Mark spin around in horror, clutching each other close in silence. Haechan doesn’t waste any more time, dragging Mark to the edge of the window and towards the usual crack in the window frame. He reaches for Mark’s hand, squeezing it as he runs only for the other to rip his hand away, shoving him with a huff.

Haechan looks into the crack and panics, suddenly remembering Jaemin’s harsh knocking on the glass when he chased him across the garden way back in the depths of autumn.

Would Mark even be let into the house? Renjun did mention that he had put a protection spell on it, the question still burning in his mind on why he is allowed to slip through and Jaemin isn’t. He can only assume it’s because Renjun wants him here and doesn’t want Jaemin. That, or the veil around the house has been affecting him all along, causing his periodic memory black outs and time skips in exchange for letting him through.

He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls harshly, despite the other’s protest, and they both slip in through the crack as he has always done, a smile growing on his face as he witnesses Mark squeeze through, albeit reluctantly. He already feels a sense of calm once inside, the cold, dark world sealed far away and only left with the warmth and idyllic quietness of Renjun’s home.

“I can’t believe you made it through,” Haechan beams.

Mark raises a brow, “Why wouldn't I?”

“Oh,” Haechan avoids his gaze and looks towards Renjun’s desk with elatedness, “No reason.” His smile somewhat falters when he scans the room, scratching his head. Renjun is nowhere to be found. He pouts, the flower in his hand clutched a little too tightly and threatening to stain his skin. Of course this would happen after all his hard work today.

Haechan potters around as Mark follows close behind, strangely obedient, though he was already nervous to come here for some reason anyway. He can’t imagine why Mark was so against coming here in the first place. Renjun has only ever seemed to welcome him inside and let him hang around for hours. Even the cat doesn’t seem to be lurking around thankfully, yet another aspect they don’t have to worry about.

He gets far enough into the kitchen to hear breathing in another room and stops in caution. He quietly flies down the narrow hallway towards a door that’s slightly cracked open, grabbing on to the edge of the wood as he tilts his head to peek inside, electing to ignore Mark pulling on his clothes from behind.

He can’t help but let out a gasp when he spots Renjun sleeping on the bed on his back, seemingly peaceful as the last light of day disappears for the night through the nearby window, the only remaining light source being the dim light on the bedside table. He’s only ever seen Renjun sleeping at the desk, so he gets lost in Renjun’s mesmerising new sleeping form for a brief moment before Mark interrupts his thoughts once more.

“I am not going in there,” he whispers sternly.

Haechan grabs his wrist again a little too quickly, despite his protests, “It’ll just be a moment! I need your help, I’ve never done this before.”

“You think I have?!” Mark panics as Haechan drags him fully inside the room, “You should have brought Jisung!”

“You really think he would have come?!” Haechan reasons. Jisung would only have come if Chenle or Jaemin were coming, and he can’t risk that by any means, not when the situation here is so delicate.

“True,” Mark groans, “But with good reason!”

“Shh! You’ll wake him!” Haechan presses a finger to his lips before dragging Mark to a nearby shelf along the wall opposite Renjun’s bed. He’s glad for a place to set his feet while they plan their next move, nestled alongside various old potion making books and old recipes, “We need to work quickly.”

“And what exactly are we even doing?”

Haechan ponders the question while briefly distracted by Renjun’s subtle breathing, his chest rising and falling though he still manages to look angelic even when asleep. He’s still wearing his working clothes so this is probably just an evening nap, which means Renjun plans to wake soon and their time is quickly running out. Before Haechan can even spare a second to think about what Renjun would usually wear to sleep overnight, Mark shoves his shoulder.

“Haechan! Where did you even get that, anyway?”

“Hm?” Haechan shakes himself back to reality, raising the flower in his hand stained with deep purple, “What do you mean? I’ve had this the entire evening.”

Mark holds a hand to his head with a sigh, “I mean what do you plan on doing with it? What did you do to it?”

Haechan blinks, “Me? Nothing?” Mark gets both more confused and irritated by the second, the steam practically coming out of his ears, so Haechan cuts him off before he can say any more, “Are you going to help or not?!”

“Do what?!” He says almost too loudly, “What—?! What are we doing?!”

“I saw you do it with Jeno!”

Mark’s face warps from confusion into concern, “What are you gonna do with it?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” Haechan says, ready to take off in flight again before Mark grabs him by the wrist.

“We were using the juice of the flowers to treat sick plants and animals! We had no choice, there’s been something wrong with the forest for some time now, but the flowers didn’t look like that!” He says, pointing at the stain.

“Well, I’m–” Haechan’s voice accidentally rises amidst his panic, “Treating Renjun…” He says much more cooly, feigning confidence.

“What’s wrong with him?” Mark looks at the sleeping figure in concern.

Haechan scratches his head, “Uh, he’s sick.”

“With what?”

Haechan hums again, stalling for time, “Uh, fox face… syndrome.” He nods as if that helps the lie to go further.

“Oh, that sounds… serious.”

“Yeah, it’s terminal.”

“What?!” Mark says, taken aback.

“And very dangerous,” Haechan says to really hit it home, holding up the flower, “We need to act fast, Mark, we gotta hurry! This is the only way we can save him from the grips of this disease.”

“Then, it’s not terminal!”

“Mark!” Haechan says, holding out his hand and beckoning him to follow, only then realising they’ve raised their voices a little too loudly, causing Renjun to stir. The pair of them gasp and freeze in place, watching a sleepy Renjun wipe at his nose and stretch his limbs before settling again, eyes closed the entire time.

Haechan finally lets out a breath as Renjun’s quiet breathing resumes, only to silently jump in place when Mark yanks the flower from his grip when he isn’t looking. Haechan holds out his arms, exasperated as Mark bridges the gap between them and the bed, flying across the room as Haechan scrambles to quickly follow him.

“Where do we need to apply it?” Haechan whispers as they trudge along Renjun’s duvet, half wincing when Mark flies up onto Renjun’s leg and begins to tip-toe along, though their human friend has yet to stir again.

“Uh—Eyes—Eyelids.” Despite his previous reservations, Mark holds the base of the flower expertly, twisting the petals together in a way that makes it seems he’s been doing this his whole life as Haechan watches half in awe and half in surprise. He swallows before nodding at Mark, who moves immediately closer to Renjun, though with caution.

Haechan blinks, his mouth opening slightly as he watches Mark squeeze the flower until juice flows out, a large drop falling onto Renjun’s left eyelid. Even with his precision, Mark moves swiftly to the other eye, likely in an attempt to get out of here as fast as possible, but is startled when Haechan reaches out to stop him.

“Wait—!” Haechan blurts out, “I want to do the other one! How else am I going to—” He coughs, almost letting his real intentions slip out, “Uh, learn?!”

Mark raises an eyebrow at him before shrugging and handing over the flower.

Haechan gulps quietly, suddenly overcome with nerves, “How hard do I squeeze?”

“Just feel it,” Mark whispers, making a weird gesture with his hands as Haechan holds the flower over Renjun’s right eyelid. He audibly sighs at Mark’s vague directions until a drop falls neatly onto the other eyelid, almost identical to Mark’s. Haechan pulls back with a grin, satisfied enough with his work that he raises the flower in victory. Mark can only look back at him with amusement.

“What now??” Haechan asks, arms still in the air.

Mark looks at Renjun with a shrug, “We wait, I guess? What’s the effect supposed to be?”

“Uh… You’ll see,” Haechan clutches the flower, mumbling to himself and tip-toeing down the bed along Renjun’s torso. He wonders what he should do with the flower now, thinking he should perhaps bury or hide this outside so that it can wilt in peace, when he stumbles over his own feet at the sudden movement below him. He lands on the duvet at Renjun's side with a poof, scrambling to get up when he hears Renjun moving.

“Ah, there you are,” He hears Renjun’s voice and looks up with a gasp, his hopeful gaze morphing into horror when he sees Renjun petting a frozen, wide-eyed Mark.

“I was wondering where you had gone. Are you here to wake me?” Renjun smiles gently at him, carding a finger through Mark’s hair, “Are we going somewhere, my love?”

“Huang Renjun!” Haechan shouts out desperately as he climbs back onto his torso, seeing Renjun smile and blink at him as if in a dreamlike state.

“Ah, I see you’ve brought a friend. Who are you again?” Renjun tilts his head, slightly squinting.

Haechan crushes the flower in his hands in anger, his rage likely spilling off of him with the way Mark looks at him, a flash of fear streaking across his face for a split second. “It’s me, Haechan! I’m your—” He grumbles, “I come to see you every day!”

He points to Mark who’s currently looking back and forth between them, “You don’t even know his name!”

“Ah, that’s true,” Renjun says softly, staring lovingly at Mark with fond eyes, “Can you remind me again?”

Haechan has had it at this point, storming off across Renjun’s torso to grab Mark harshly by the arm, “What did you do?!”

“What—?! Nothing! He just looked at me and— You…” His face drops in realisation, “You did this, this is a love spe—!”

Haechan covers his mouth with his hands before he can speak any further. “This is your fault!” He lets the flower fall to the duvet, grabbing Mark by the shoulders and attempting to push him off the bed. Though, Mark has always been stronger and quicker to react, and easily retaliates. He tackles Haechan seconds later, forcing him down into the duvet as the other cries out.

Haechan can hear Renjun’s voice in the background, gently pleading with them to stop fighting as warm hands begin to slide in between them. It’s only when Mark is ripped entirely away from him that Haechan pauses for breath, only to realise at Mark’s exclaim that it wasn’t Renjun that had separated them after all.

“M-Mark?” Haechan mumbles worriedly, moving his hair out of his face as Mark shouts out for him. Haechan looks to Renjun who’s only looking at Mark, but before he can become any more agitated, he remembers Renjun’s empty hands, looking up at the dark figure with bright hair and a long, black coat that currently has Mark in his clutches.

“It’s the birdman!” Haechan screams as he locks eyes with the newcomer, standing up on shaking legs before he falls over the edge of Renjun’s chest and into the ruffles of the duvet again. He can only hope the crows won’t try and crash through the window like his first day here.

He manages to get back up again, half disoriented as Mark’s voice gets more troubled by the second, crying for help but ultimately unable to escape the grip of the birdman who’s inspecting him with sharp eyes.

“Who are you calling birdman? Who’s this cute little friend of yours, huh?” He says with a smirk before focusing on Renjun.

“And you, I warned you of the consequences of going into that forest. Now, you’ve summoned a whole troupe of them!” He pauses to sniff the air, looking between Renjun’s eyes and the duvet, “What’s that smell?”

“Ah, Mark, his name is Mark,” Renjun laughs, clearly not in his right mind as he reaches his hands out towards the fairy, though Ten quickly holds Mark further away, sensing that something is amiss as he inches closer to look at Renjun’s eyes. He places his free hand on Renjun’s forehead as the other lets out a noise of surprise, blinking in a daze.

“What did you do to him? Whatever it is, undo it right now. You!” He points at Haechan who shrieks in fear.

“It w-wasn’t me! It was Mark!” He scrambles, slipping on his feet.

“Give Mark back to me, Ten-hyung,” Renjun says with pleading eyes.

“No, no, not yet. We’re having a little chat first,” Ten says calmly, strategically attempting to keep both Renjun and the increasingly anxious fairies at bay.

“It wasn’t me! He lies!” Mark shouts, desperate to be heard, “It was Haechan’s flower!”

Ten looks to the bed, the purple-stained pansy catching his eye. Haechan knows there’s no point in racing to get to it before him. The witch moves swiftly with a calm determination, leaving forward though still having to hold Mark out of reach lest Renjun try anything. Ten sniffs the air and pulls back at once, covering his nose with his sleeve as he speaks.

“Well, undo the spell now, go on. Then I’m disposing of that thing.”

“I—I can’t…” Haechan whimpers, tears threatening to spill as he drops to his knees on the soft duvet, “I don’t know how… It’s not my magic, and now Renjun is in love with Mark.”

The dots seem to connect in Ten’s head as his eyes flicker between the three of them and the flower, all the while Renjun continues to stare in awe at Mark still clutched in Ten’s hands. Ten sighs dramatically rubbing at his temple while he whispers to himself in a language Haechan doesn’t quite recognise.

Mark breaks the silence soon after, “Only the one who enchanted the flower can break the spell. Now can you put me down? You’re crushing my wings—”

Renjun seems to become alarmed at this revelation, “Ten-hyung, don’t hurt him!”

“Who enchanted it then if not you?” Ten asks Haechan who pouts in response.

“It was Jisung…”

Mark groans in realisation, throwing his head back in anger.

“I won’t hurt him, Renjun,” Ten reassures him with a smile, pushing him subtly back into the pillows when he tries to rise, “Your little friend Haechan has to go now, I’m afraid, to bring Jisung here.” He nods at Haechan and tilts his head to the window, a universal gesture for get the hell out now. “We’re gonna have a little party while you’re gone.”

Renjun seems to be satisfied with that, happy to let Haechan go as long as Mark can stay. Haechan flies from the bed at once, a tear spilling down his cheek as he slips out into the night once more.

-

It was only a little while later when Haechan returned, dragging Jisung into the house practically against his will. Though, Renjun’s temporary enchantment was quickly remedied and he was mostly back to normal in good time, if not a little worn out by its residual effects. It’s only after Ten had destroyed the flower through a little friendly fire and frogmarched the three fairies out the door that he settled down to properly chat with Renjun.

“I’m gonna feel this for days afterwards,” Renjun groans in pain as the effects of the spell begin to wear off, while Ten somehow manages to change the duvet, bedsheets and pillowcases around him. He had initially wanted to destroy everything if it would ensure the spell had been completely quenched, but Renjun had insisted on at least just washing the bedwear, to which Ten eventually agreed.

“You sure do seem to attract magical beings, huh,” Ten says with a sigh, replacing a pillowcase and settling the pillow behind Renjun’s head.

“Well, can the magical beings let me sleep first?” Renjun stretches his limbs and tries to get comfortable again, “How did you know something was wrong, anyway?” He mumbles, closing his eyes against the light that’s now a little too bright to bear.

“A little birdie told me.”

“Those traitors…” Renjun says weakly. He’ll have to start closing the curtains if the local wildlife are going to continue to be peeping toms, “Who gave you a key?”

“You did, you had a spare made,” Ten’s voice is further away now, his figure shuffling around and sorting what needs to be washed.

“Oh, why did I do that?”

Ten sighs, understanding that Renjun is still coming down from a powerful spell that left him a little out of it, but he doesn’t continue to entertain him as his voice suddenly turns serious, “You shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of the fairies. Who knows what they’ll do. I don’t know what you and that Haechan get up to or what it is you’re seeking in the forest, but this is your life we’re talking about. You have to take care of yourself.”

“No, it’s— You don’t understand,” Renjun breathes, “It’s different with Haechan. He’s… different. There’s something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Ten is only staring back at him, eyebrow raised before he turns back to stuff spare blankets neatly in the cupboard, “Renjun-ah, are you hearing yourself? That spell must have done a real number on you, but before that even—”

“Before? What do you mean?” His eyes flutter open.

Ten breathes loudly, “Can’t you feel it? Maybe you’re used to it since you live here, but there’s something— Wrong with this house. I think it’s influencing your behaviour. It’s worse now than it used to be, but I felt it when I first arrived. I know you did too.”

Renjun sits in silence for what feels like a long time, the seconds and minutes passing by a lot quicker than they should. He doesn’t dwell on it, otherwise he’d have to admit that everything Ten has been warning him about is true. All he knows is that the feeling of softness beneath his fingers is real, that the pain in his head won’t likely go away soon, and that he must try to steer the conversation away from himself or else Ten will be dragging him away from Haechan and this place sooner rather than later.

“What happened to not arguing with fairies?” Renjun breaks into a smile, “You seemed fairly fiery and hasty when you spoke to Mark and Haechan earlier. I may have been out of my mind but I still remember what was actually happening.”

“He had it coming. I was at my limit, and I can take him,” Ten says so nonchalantly that they both burst into quiet laughter. The depths of the night were soon upon them, with Ten urging Renjun to drink at least some of the tea and nibble on some snacks he brought over to him to gain back some well-needed strength.

Ten silences his buzzing phone, likely messages from Kun wanting to know his whereabouts or if Renjun is okay after coming down with his sudden illness. He bids Renjun a good night as he slips his coat back on, the cold wind rustling through the doorway as he prepares to step out, “What am I gonna do with you, Renjun, huh?” He half smiles, “That little Haechan of yours is only going to raise the stakes now, you know.”

✨

Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! When thou hold'st up thy hand. O, let me kiss.

Renjun lets out a tired sigh into the greenwood where he’s huddled over his bag near a ditch by a scatter of trees. He shuffles through the contents with mild confusion, unsure of how he can now never manage to find anything in here despite meticulous planning and organisation. Ten and Yangyang’s persistent warnings replay in his head of fairy mischievousness which he elects to ignore, and in that very moment his hand finds purchase on the spare jar he was looking for.

He unscrews the lid and begins to scoop some fresh earth inside, hoping he can find some answers to the forest’s health within this alone and not have to venture further into the boglands. He had collected countless flowers and plants in the few months he’s been here, tracking the moon phases and daylight hours and recording anything of note or change within the air or within the forest. He’s even going as far as monitoring the bugs and keeping an eye on the birds without alerting Ten somehow, or so he presumes.

Despite his efforts, he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t notice the bone chill that washes over him every time he steps outside, and it’s not entirely from the cool winds of winter. Death is spreading out from within, and deep down, he knows that it’ll overtake the entire forest if left to its own devices. Seemingly, he can find no otherworldly reason as to why the flora and fauna of the season were not thriving as they should.

The fact still remains, a tingling in his bones, that something’s still out there, lurking in the shadows. He’s sure he knows where to look, a place he’s already been once before, on the evening he first ventured into the deep of the forest. Though a fear has been instilled in him ever since, and he’s been hesitant to go searching for it again. Perhaps he would have to take Ten inside with him one day, and even have Yangyang stationed in the house in case they unknowingly lose vast sets of time again.

He glances at his watch at that thought, knowing that he should be starting on dinner soon and that the cat will probably begin searching for him before the sun goes down. He closes the jar, rummaging through the bag one last time to find a safe place to keep it before he suddenly begins to feel weightless, his skin flushing with heat as if he’s lightheaded. He blinks in surprise, his hand leaving the cool glass of the jar as it seems to swell in size while the world darkens around him.

He huffs a breath of air before stumbling over his feet, landing on a surface with an awkward edge that digs right into his stomach. He groans, rubbing his head in confusion before standing up, seeing the glass jar right in front of him. He only realises then that the cork on the jar is at eye level, and the glass component is roughly the same size as himself.

He gasps in place, looking up at once to see the vast canopies peering down at him, gathering that he has very much fallen head first into his own bag. While the open zip lurks above him, that can only mean one thing.

He braces when he sees a head pop up between the flaps, looking down in curiosity before breaking into a wide smile.

“Wow! I can’t believe it worked!”

“Haechan…?” Renjun whispers, weariness in his voice.

“Huang Renjun!” Haechan beams, climbing gracefully over the zipper and heading towards him, like some sort of angel descending from heaven with the way he floats down amidst the rays of sunlight. Renjun sucks in a breath, his long coat being whisked back, whether by wind or magic, he was too distracted to notice.

Haechan looks almost too mesmerising up close, and Renjun half worries that he’ll fall under a trance until he clings onto something more physical, one hand reaching back to trace the cool glass of the jar to keep him grounded.

Haechan’s usual quiet breaths on the wind are now as heavy and loud in his ears as his own, the fairy’s eyes a deep brown that he’s never quite seen like this before. The flowers in his hair are almost perfectly sculpted—today, a mixture of daisies amidst his light brown curls and pointed ears.

Haechan’s clothes seem to be expertly woven with a number of petals, leaves, and other shrubbery. Blades of dark grass are artistically wound around his hands and up his arms and legs, while his waist and biceps are dazzling with tiny, otherworldly jewels, twinkling as he approaches. For a moment, Renjun ponders on the extent of clothes making and craftsmanship in this world before pulling himself back out of his thoughts.

He only manages to glance at his wings from the corner of his eye out of caution, glimmering with a splash of colours like a rainbow after a shower of rain. He swears he can hear a subtle hum rumbling from them, their magic alive and well, both a beauty and a threat.

As he is now, Renjun is certainly at a disadvantage. Haechan inches ever closer, his face now a little too close for comfort as he hovers in front of him. By some sort of wild instinct, Renjun’s hand rises of its own accord, grasping Haechan’s chin and forcing the fairy to stop. The facade falls like a gust of wind after opening a door on a blustery day, Renjun’s senses flooding back to him as the birds and fluttering of leaves ring in his ears once more, the mystic silence long behind.

Haechan quietly smirks before his face morphs into something else entirely.

“Oh, no!” Haechan cries out and Renjun seizes up, holding his breath unintentionally and plastering himself against the glass. Haechan’s eyes widen, his hands hovering in the air as Renjun gets lost in his mere magical presence once more. Only now does Renjun notice the tiny scattering of moles painted across Haechan’s face, his plump, ruby lips pursing before he speaks again.

Haechan’s hand moves from his forehead to Renjun’s, sighing into the thick air, “I made you too short.”

“Hey—!” Renjun retorts, somehow finding relief at the sound of his own voice, some familiarity, until Haechan cups his face with his warm hands. Renjun lets out a guttural noise before resolving himself to silence, as Haechan’s eyes survey him in wonder, as if taking in every inch of him now that they’re practically of the same size and stature, one of them less clothed per se.

Haechan soon breaks into a grin, and Renjun is relieved when the other’s hands fall. He slumps his shoulders, finally taking in a gulp of air.

“Come on, let’s go! There’s much to show you!” Haechan says before taking Renjun’s hand. He pauses in his excited step, probably realising that he can’t exactly fly with Renjun in tow before he proceeds to climb out of the bag.

“Haechan…” Renjun swallows, “I need to—Can you put me back now? It’ll be dark soon and I have to get home.”

Haechan’s eyes move around as he ponders the question, “Hm… But I wanted to show you my house. It’ll be quick, I promise!” He pleads, and Renjun almost hears Ten’s words echoing in his mind about the stakes rising the more he entertains the fairy’s antics.

“Fine,” he says, not wanting to argue with Haechan, especially after what happened last time, “I’ll see your house but then you must reverse the spell, okay? You can even sleep over in my place again tonight, if you want,” He nods, to sweeten the deal. Haechan brightens at that, taking his hand once more and making a quick break for the zipper before Renjun can even take his next breath.

“Don’t worry, we won’t get lost. I’ve walked these trails a thousand times,” he says, moving swiftly as if with muscle memory, as Renjun lags behind.

He’s lived here long enough to know the forest trails like the back of his hand at this point, yet wading through the damp mud with grass shards as tall as himself and centuries old trees looming like skyscrapers, it feels like an entirely different world.

“Watch out for the nails, Renjun, they’re rusty!” Haechan shouts back, dragging him from his thoughts as they barrel through the sea of green, the shards flicking back at Renjun with every swish. Undoubtedly, he’ll be covered in green stains and dirt later, now much less light on his feet in his heavy boots unlike Haechan who’s currently barefoot. Getting a little down and dirty is the best case scenario at this point.

“Oh, and the rats! It’s best to stay clear of them. They’re trouble,” he scrunches his nose at that, “They’ve steered away from your house and the barrier, so they’ve been snooping around here more often than not now! Jeno is struggling to keep them under control.”

Haechan’s voice carries in the air almost like a dream that Renjun hasn’t yet awoken from, the air becoming heavier around him the further into the forest he goes. The wind flutters through the leaves on the trees and they ring loud in his ears. Haechan’s warm hand in his own is one of the few things keeping him rooted in reality.

He can only assume the so-called barrier Haechan’s referring to is the protection spell he put on the house after moving in. Haechan has now also mentioned another name he hasn’t heard previously, which puts the current fairy count at four if they include Mark and Jisung. He can only wonder how many have been hidden out here all along.

He’s barely had a chance to survey his surroundings before he slams into the back of Haechan at full force, thumping their heads together. Haechan lets out a noise as Renjun hisses in pain, grabbing his head and wondering why he stopped so suddenly.

“He’s heard me,” Haechan whispers, “I shouldn’t have said his name.”

“What?” Renjun squints, rubbing at the tender spot on his head, “Who—?”

“Witch,” a sullen voice says from nearby and Renjun’s head shoots up with a gasp, only to see what looks to be a handsome fairy standing right in front of him with smooth skin and dark hair, clutching a needle and thimble almost like a weapon and shield.

Renjun almost curses when he looks into the new fairy’s sharp eyes, so dark that he almost sees himself being sucked into them when Haechan jumps in front of Renjun as if protecting him, though Haechan looks more fearful now than he’s ever seen him.

“Haechan…” the other says sternly, his grip tightening on the needle, “What have you done now?”

“Bye, Jeno!” Haechan says breathlessly before darting off, and Renjun is suddenly dragged away once more, almost stumbling face first into the dirt if Haechan hadn’t kept running. The newcomer, Jeno, is still shouting after them in the background, though likely not following them when the voice slowly fades.

Haechan moves a lot faster now, and Renjun struggles to stay aware of his surroundings amidst the swiftness, a thousand shades of brown and green showering over his eyes. He knows that Haechan allegedly wants to show him his house, if it is a real place, though a part of him worries he’ll end up lost out here again on his own like that very first day. The thought fills him with dread, which isn’t helped with the air thickening around them as if coating his lungs.

The surrounding sounds become muffled as they inch closer towards the direction they’re heading in, causing him to almost lose balance on his feet when Haechan takes a sudden sharp left, pulling him along to the side so quickly that he starts to choke on the air. In that moment he sees it again, to his horror, undoubtedly the same ring of white mushrooms he’s seen before.

But Haechan’s grip is tight, dragging him in the opposite direction. The pressure on his chest lessens as the white ring grows smaller in the distance. So there is some distinct pattern to the forest floor that remains unchanged, unlike his previous theory that the forest is a labyrinth that can change its appearance at will and has no set landscape.

His lungs are glad for the return of fresher air, but he can’t dampen the memory lingering in his mind, knowing that this means the bright clearing with the old stone well is also real and not an illusion conjured up by the forest. He has no choice but to trust Haechan, to trust that he’ll guide him and keep him safe, that he truly has no ill intentions, at least for today.

They finally pass through a memorable monument, a broken terracotta flower pot that seems out of place so deep in the forest. Nevertheless, Renjun makes sure to note it for later if he ever does find himself alone out here with no service in the dark. It is curious, however, to find such a thing abandoned out here. If the fairies have no interest or use for it, or had the means to carry it in here, then he’s likely not the first human to stumble so far into the forest before.

Renjun almost stops Haechan a moment later so he can catch his breath, though Haechan slows naturally, as if he heard his thoughts. Their pace lessens as they weave between a few large shards of grass and a handful of flowers before they find themselves in front of a sizable mushroom, red capped with white spots.

“Hm, we should rest here a moment until the rain fades.”

“Huh?” Renjun wheezes, trudging in the mud, “What rain?” He barely lets out of his mouth before he’s engulfed by a splash of water, soaking his head and shoulders. He feels Haechan’s hand grip his arm, pulling him under the cap of the mushroom with him. Renjun’s breath hitches, his world spinning once more as Haechan embraces him tightly, pulling him close until they’re leaning against the white stem.

He’s still a little stunned from the sudden cold deluge, too frozen stiff to move as Haechan pats his shoulders and cleanly swipes water from his coat.

“Your hair is wet now, Huang Renjun,” Haechan beams amidst the thundering sound of the rain in Renjun’s ears, drowning out almost everything as water pools around his feet, the worms in the near distance wiggling their way out of the earth.

He sucks in a sharp breath when Haechan’s hand quickly enters his field of vision, gently cupping his chin.

“You have lots of hair on your face today.”

That drags Renjun back to reality, “Hey—!” Renjun can’t help but laugh as he pushes Haechan’s hand away from his chin.

Their backs are leaning against the stem as Haechan’s hand moves to slip into his own, a warmth amidst the cool downpour, and for the first time in months, Renjun feels somewhat at peace. The entire world seems to slip away, leaving only behind comfort and serenity, a moment he could live in forever.

He doesn’t have to answer to anyone here, or feel their stares, hearing the whispers behind his back, the silent concern. While he can understand that everyone means well, he realises that what he just may need sometimes is some non-judgmental company to quietly pass the time with.

Haechan squeezes his hand, as if acknowledging his thoughts somehow again, but Renjun doesn’t think much of it. Even if Haechan had an inkling of his worldly troubles, he certainly never showed signs of knowing. He lets out a breath into the cooling air, letting his train of thought flow out and fade into the mist.

“You can tell when it’s going to rain?” Renjun asks quietly, watching the raindrops bounce and splash, an entirely different experience to witness when you’re this size. Though, he knows Haechan’s only been staring at his face this entire time.

“Can’t you?” Haechan smiles, waiting for Renjun to roll his eyes at him before he looks up towards the sky, “It’s just a shower, it’ll be over soon.”

“Ah…” Renjun’s voice quietens, knowing he doesn’t have that much longer to relish in the moment. If only the others could see him now, practically knee deep in mud, covered in grass stains and soaked to his skin, taking shelter under a mushroom in a mysterious forest.

Ten would be half concerned, half amused. Yangyang would be just as happy to tag along for the ride. He wonders what his partner would say if they had made it here together after all, if he could have experienced this too. Renjun doesn’t regret coming here at all. A part of him, deep down, suspects he was supposed to end up here in any case.

Haechan’s wings glitter with movement in the corner of his eye, and Renjun doesn’t quite have enough time to react when he feels lips pressed up against his ear for a fleeting second. He involuntarily jumps, his spare hand rushing to his chest as he turns to look at the fairy with wide eyes.

He’s too close, way too close, to the point he can feel Haechan’s breath dusting across his face. He doesn’t like the visceral reaction he had to Haechan encroaching a little too into his personal space, and the rush of fear and unwelcome feelings he’s harbouring immediately after. His mind is running a mile a minute, almost speechless but knowing he has to say something to keep himself grounded in the material world.

Haechan has held all the cards ever since Renjun dipped his head into his bag today, and there’s no way he can navigate himself out safely all on his own at this size, unless one of the nearby birds manages to recognise him without having a peck. He needs to say the right thing, but he only says the first thing that comes to mind.

“A-Are you trying to put a spell on me?” His voice falters.

Haechan blinks, “I already did.”

Renjun laughs amidst his nerves, allowing some of the weight to lift off of his shoulders. He touches his own ear with his free hand where Haechan’s lips were not a moment ago, before running his fingers along his chin, feeling a tingling in his fingers.

“What did you do?”

Haechan looks somewhat confused, glancing between Renjun’s face and his hand, “It’s a kiss. It’s what the mortals do, is it not?”

“No, I meant what spell?”

“No spell.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not lying!” Haechan can’t help but smile as Renjun playfully shoves him, the fairy stumbling over on his feet, “I’ve seen others do it. Did I do it wrong?”

Renjun sighs, letting Haechan hold onto his hands once more, “Not really. It’s just— You like my ears, huh? You like putting flowers behind them too.”

Haechan grins, rocking back and forth on his feet, “Usually, they’re so big but now they’re small, just like your hands, and—” He raises his hand between them once more, measuring the differences between their heights again.

“Hey, you!” Renjun lunges at him but Haechan is too quick this time, blocking Renjun’s fists from grabbing his torso. Renjun gets lost in Haechan’s laugh, mingling with the sounds of the rain and the forest alive as ever around them.

He carefully watches their joined hands again before Haechan lifts them, using both of his hands to cradle one of Renjun’s. He slowly traces his thumbs over Renjun’s fingers before lightly pressing his lips against them. Renjun holds his breath until Haechan’s eyes look at him again. He watches carefully, barely moving besides the rise and fall of his chest with shallow breaths.

Haechan gives him an easy smile, “Is that better?”

Renjun slightly nods, his heart in his throat as Haechan continues.

“You looked sad.”

“I’m not sad,” Renjun says gently, almost surprised at the observation, “I’m just… thinking.”

“What were you thinking about?”

Renjun pauses, looking out to see that the rain has already slowed to a drizzle, “Nothing.” He’s not sure if they’re ready to breach the concept of human mortality just yet.

Haechan holds his hand again before stepping out into the mist, “Let’s go! My house is just around here.” He skips off, pulling Renjun along with him lively as ever, as if the last few minutes never happened, though he can’t exactly be sure of how fast or slow time is passing in his current state, or in any state for that matter.

He can never really be sure of what Haechan is thinking, though he wasn’t lying when he said his home was close. Sure enough, just a few paces down from the mushroom are they met with the trunk of a large, old tree, complete with a tiny red door just where the roots inch into the ground.

Haechan looks back to him in excitement pulling him closer to the door. A small wooden box that could only resemble a postbox lays to the side, though not filled with letters but with gold coins, which he can only assume have been left there by humans who’ve stumbled across the fairy door before and requested safe passage.

He doesn’t quite chance bringing it up to Haechan as he opens the door, though he remains curious about how old the coins are that lay there, considering the forest and cottage haven’t appeared to be explored or inhabited in some time. Before he knows it, the door is closed behind him and he’s being led down a small spiral staircase forged directly from tree roots until they arrive in a small living space.

One could never imagine something like this was tucked away beneath the trees. Various flowers, petals, and grains are scattered around the room—acorns tossed by what he assumes is a bed made from layers of plants and foliage, topped with a bunch of cherries stuck into the ceiling.

It’s like a house fit for a doll, the room complete with several trinkets and knick-knacks which Haechan certainly swiped from the so-called mortals—A red pink cushion, an old handkerchief, a small over-sharpened pencil and other—

“Hey, this is mine!” Renjun says, striding over to pick up his old lucky four leaf clover charm that he thought he had lost, though now it’s more the size of a dinner plate in his hands. “I’ve been missing this for a while. You took it!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” Renjun looks over as Haechan fails to hold back a smile.

“But I give you lots of gifts in return!” Haechan replies, plopping down on the bed to watch him wander about the house, sifting through his things, not too dissimilar to how Haechan acts in Renjun’s house.

“Lots of flowers… If that’s your way of asking if you can keep it, then fine—Hey—You’re the one ripping pages from the books!”

Haechan immediately appears at his side, attempting to grab the page in exclamation, “It’s mine!”

Renjun sighs, swirling around with it tight in his grip. He taps a fake tea light nearby, emitting a resounding hum that Renjun immediately acknowledges as some sort of magic before holding it over the torn page about sunflowers that he recognises from the house. He supposes that Haechan has no need for batteries anyway.

“Would you like some tea?” Haechan asks out of the blue as Renjun turns around in surprise, the fairy clearly having moved onto another task.

“Oh—! Uh…” He barely has time to think before a tiny cup and saucer is being placed into his hands, though it’s not like he has the liberty to turn down fairy hospitality while in such a vulnerable form.

“Ah, your infamous tea, always a pleasure,” Renjun subtly laughs, sitting down on the pin cushion only to be stabbed briefly in the leg. Once Haechan’s back is briefly turned to fuss about something in the cupboards on the other side of the room, Renjun manages to dump the contents of the cup over his shoulder and can only hope the fairy doesn’t notice.

He mimics taking a generous sip when Haechan turns around again. He still doesn’t want to imagine the kind of concoction that Haechan almost successfully slipped to Yangyang a few weeks earlier, but if the poisonous plants he spotted along their way here are anything to go by…

“Haechan-ah… As we discussed earlier, I came to visit your house, and now it’s about time I start heading back for dinner. Aren’t you coming?” He says nonchalantly, but his nerves still bleed behind it.

Haechan hops on his feet again, skipping over to Renjun and clutching his hands, “Can’t you stay small like this just for a little longer?”

“Hm… Do you really want to have to drag me through the forest again instead of flying alongside me at my normal size?”

Haechan pouts with a hum, clearly running through the options in his mind.

“I am mortal, you know,” Renjun interjects with more confidence now, “What if I get cold or catch something along the way? What about the rats that you talked about, hm? What about Jeno?”

Haechan’s eyes widen as his shoulders slump in defeat, “Fine, but can we try the spell again at your house?”

This time, Renjun holds back a laugh, “I’ll think about it.”

💐

So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, But yet an union in partition, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem.

Despite his best efforts to become more involved in the local community over the last few months, Renjun’s scarcely found himself about the village unless it’s for groceries, essential errands, or the few occasions where Ten and Kun have invited him to the local pub to get him out of the house. He’s been otherwise digging his hands through the shrubbery of the forest, burying his head in books, taking brisk walks by the sea, or waiting for Haechan to make his regular visits.

He feels a little embarrassed to show his face again in the flower shop after so long. He managed to make a little visit here to Mrs. Kim soon after he moved in but hadn’t made his way back since. She acknowledges him with a smile and a nod from the back of the shop, her hands full to the brim with flowers while a phone is nested between her shoulder and ear.

She potters around for a few minutes longer as Renjun has a look around, her voice disappearing and reappearing from back rooms. The dark clouds had rolled in fast this afternoon soon after Renjun had eaten lunch, knowing they are due for a downpour before the night is out.

Even now, he thinks of Haechan and how he could predict when the rain would start, and how the fairy assumed Renjun could too. In a way, Renjun supposes he was right. As he stands, the wind is blowing through the open doorway and rustling the leaves of the plants by the window, the salty smell of the sea air reaching his senses. He’d have to head home as soon as he leaves the shop.

Mrs. Kim bursts into the room and slides behind the counter before Renjun can even fully turn around, tightening his coat around himself as she ends the call and places the phone down.

“Ah, Renjun-ah!” She exclaims, her arms held out, “It’s been too long, have you been well? No troubles, I hope?! You know you can come to me at any time!”

“Oh, everything’s perfect,” Renjun reassures her, with a smile, “I’m sorry, I should pop down more often when I’m in the village but the weather has been so unpredictable lately.”

“Ah, too right it has,” she nods solemnly, “It’s been a harsh winter, especially for the poor flowers, my babies.” She reaches for the bundles of crocuses she had been holding previously, neatly piling them into stacks, ready to be sorted into the nearby bouquets. “You’ve been able to handle the cold well, I hope? The heating hasn’t been on the fritz again, has it?”

“No, not at all. It’s all in working order. I’m used to the long winters in my hometown, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” she says, hands full again until her face disappears behind the flowers, “But you’ll tell me if you need anything, anything at all, sure you will?”

“Of course, of course. In fact, I was wondering if I could buy some flowers off of you today.”

Mrs. Kim’s demeanour somehow manages to brighten even further amidst this cool and dull day, her gasp loud as ever as the crocuses lower from her face, “Oh, well in that case! What can I do for you, anything in particular you’re looking for?”

It’s not quite the season for sunflowers, but he’s made a mental note to come back sometime next summer and smuggle a bunch into the house to surprise Haechan. For now, however, he’d have to settle for some of the winter variety Mrs. Kim has on display.

“How much for a bouquet of the red camellias you have there on the shelf?”

She looks at the shelf for a moment, “Ah… For you, half price!”

“No, no, no. I’ll pay full price,” Renjun says, already shuffling through his wallet. He places more than enough cash on the counter before she can even begin to speak again, her back still turned as she grabs the bouquet from the shelf to bring it over.

“Ah! It’s too much!”

“I insist!” Renjun says, taking the bouquet from her and then placing the money directly into her hand until she finally gives in. She makes a fuss for a few moments before heading to the register behind the counter.

Renjun glances around one last time, taking note of the range of flowers in stock, knowing he’d likely be back here soon if Haechan takes a liking to this kind of gift. He supposes he’d have to include some of his special herbs from his secret stash, locked away from prying fairy eyes, and an onion or two if the fairy can carry them all across the forest. Perhaps they might have to make the trip together, and with that, tomorrow was already looking to be a wonderful afternoon.

His eyes are scanning the different sizes of terracotta flowerpots neatly placed on the shelves along the wall when Mrs. Kim flits into view once more.

“Ah, sorry, I was just admiring your pots.”

“Oh, was there anything else you needed?”

“Not at the moment, but I’ll probably be back again in a week or two if you’re around.” Renjun lifts the bouquet.

“Oh, absolutely! I only tend to take time off for the new year and during the summer months, so I’ll be here another few weeks,” she smiles, going back to the bouquets she was preparing earlier, “Are the flowers for a special someone?”

“Ah…” Renjun laughs subtly, admiring the flowers in his hand while scrambling for something to say, “I suppose so, yes. They’re for… a good friend of mine. He’s stopping by for lunch tomorrow. His favourites are sunflowers though. You’ll probably be sick of me come summer.”

“How wonderful! Oh, I’ll be sure to have them ready in stock for you when the time comes!” She beams, her hands carefully preparing cards and twirling white ribbons with scissors, “You know, back in my heyday, there was a lovely young man about your age living in that same very house where you are now. He loved sunflowers too.”

Renjun perks up as she continues, his mind immediately drawn back to the empty spot by the bookshelf in his home, the old notebook he left lying there a few months ago. He hasn’t thought much of it in weeks.

“He used to plant them, or at least he tried very hard to. They didn’t quite last and it’s been hard getting anything to grow there ever since. It was a terrible summer,” she suddenly pauses, her hands smoothing over a stack of cards on the counter as the wind blows in the door again behind them, “I’d say the land is fighting back. Though, I can’t remember that boy’s name. Such a charming fellow.”

“Lee Donghyuck?” Renjun says quietly and Mrs. Kim looks up at him with widened eyes.

“Yes! That was his name, how did you know?!”

“I found some old books in the bookshelf back at the house, one of them had that name written on the inside cover,” His voice falters, the plastic wrapping of the bouquet crinkling beneath his fingers, “I meant to say it to you, if anyone was looking for them or needed them back. I’ve left them all as is.” He’s not exactly going to bring up the missing torn out pages at the hands of a tiny fairy, but he somehow feels glad to get it off his chest. “Was it a family home? Did they move away?”

“No, no,” she shakes her head, “He lived alone, like yourself. He just seemed to drop off the face of the earth one day. I only assumed he decided to move away in the middle of the night, but he left everything he owned behind. I’m sure I had a picture of him around here somewhere.” She darts off again, sifting through various drawers and cupboards in the back.

Speckles of rain are beginning to patter on the windows when Mrs. Kim finally sucks in a breath, triumphantly holding an old framed photo in her hands as she strides across the room. “I should hang this up again. I’m not the best with names but I’d never forget a face!”

She turns the frame around to face Renjun, placing it on the counter as her finger trails on the glass. A small inscription in faded blue ink is handwritten across the bottom, “Village Summer Festival, 1973”. Renjun immediately sees a familiar face and gasps, his wallet slipping from his hand and falling with a resounding slap on the floor.

“Strange…” she sighs, “I’ve always wondered what happened to him, he was a good lad.”

Renjun’s knees buckle as she takes the frame away, moving slowly back across the shop and holding it up in front of her, as if scoping out some free space to hang it on the wall. Renjun kneels to the floor, his hand shakily reaching for his wallet as if all the air has left the room. He grips the leather tightly, closing his eyes and breathing deeply before standing back up again, though it’s knocked the wind right out of him.

“I’m so sorry, I just remembered I have to run. Thank you so much for the flowers, I’ll see you soon.” His voice is more monotonous than he’d like, but if he utters another word or attempts a more lighthearted tone, the dam will surely burst. One foot is already out the door by the time Mrs. Kim waves and shouts her goodbyes.

🥀

Didst thou not lead him through the glimmering night.

Renjun runs against the wind, the spitting of rain from earlier quickly turning to a more vicious sleet as he reaches the narrow laneway, the downpour of slush, soaking his clothes and skin. He’s too frazzled to care about the cool water seeping through his socks, but when he arrives at the front of the house, he has to pause for a moment and collect himself.

He can see his breath in the air as he frantically looks left and right between the house and the entrance to the forest, the sleet now slowing and forming a gentle snow. Though, it’s far from comforting. The darkened laneway seems far behind him, the house and surrounding garden still as if he’s static in the plane, with any sound of civilisation now mute, fading from his senses.

He already knows this is no coincidence. Something has changed, and if the charged energy now emanating from the forest is anything to go by, it only confirms his newfound revelations. Renjun now recalls Haechan’s sporadical moments where he seemed lost in another time, his usual spirit not quite connected with himself, and instead harbouring fragments of another. The weakened veil on Halloween only seemed to encourage it.

“It was so dark.”

Renjun takes a few steps towards the archway. He can still remember Haechan standing in the swirls of blank ink on the page of the notebook, the dampness still coating his hair.

“I was out there for hours. I don’t like the cold.”

The forest is inviting him in, just like it did with Lee Donghyuck all those years ago. Except now, no voice calls to Renjun to lure him in the right direction like his very first time entering this forest. It assumes he knows the way, and his feet are already leading him right to it. It would be too dangerous to run with the forest in this state, so he takes firm but calculated steps through the forest floor. If he's not careful, he may not find his way back out.

It’s much darker in here now than it’s ever been, but he’s walked the path enough with Haechan that he still has his bearings. Down the pathway where even the moon does not shine, through the second archway of two trees, and across the less trodden path on the right. The familiar drop in temperature embraces him like an old friend, the fog thickening and coating his throat with revitalised purpose.

Another right, and the forest opens up to him, granting him back some of his wits and senses. He purposely doesn’t pay much mind to the small ring of white mushrooms that greet him, taking the opposite path that leaves the landmark broken terracotta pot far behind. There is no laughter, no sense of relief, moving in a trance-like state as there is now much more to fear than a crop of fairies. This is what was truly awaiting him, calling for him all along. He was just too distracted to see it.

A raven caws so loud from a branch directly to his left that he jumps in place, his loud shriek echoing ominously in the distance before fading into the abyss. He meets the raven’s gaze directly, blinking erratically before sucking in a breath as the bird flies away. This must be it, he realises, a warning before he ventures any further, that what lies ahead is beyond the reach of life.

He holds his breath amidst the quietness, though the presence here is so strong it physically wears down on him, rendering him weak. He sees the vast clearing not too far ahead of him, though it’s an entirely different sight when the sun’s glorious rays are like a distant memory. It’s even more overgrown than it was previously, though the flickers of moonlight that breach the canopies are still centred on the old, stone well.

The grass beneath him crumbles under his feet, the stench of death and decay rising from the earth and seeping from the trees. He hears the rats before he sees them, and he stumbles in a huffed panic as they squirm around his feet, darting in the dark and fleeing for their lives. He instinctively places his hand on the nearest tree in an attempt to steady himself, but he pulls away in disgust soon after, his hand painted with foul, putrid sap. The forest is dying fast now, and whatever entity was bubbling in here all these months can no longer hold back.

It’s not safe, he has to turn back or find himself dying with the wildlife surrounding him. But he has to see it with his own eyes, he has to confirm his suspicions if he’s to even try to help bring this forest back from the brink.

The voice that called out to him on that very first day seemed like a trick of the mind, a powerful magic conjured to lure and trap him in another realm. He initially put it down as another doing of the fairies, preying on the new arrival into the valley.

Ten warned him about it. Even Mrs. Kim warned him about it, how the foundations of the house cannot be touched so as not to risk their wrath. Strictly speaking, Renjun didn’t even need to be warned. He had known from the second he had stepped outside the car on the day he moved in that something was very wrong with this forest.

Fleeting memories of the last few months flash behind his eyes as if instructed by the woodland itself, using their last figments of life to beg someone to see, to understand, to find.

An empty spot by the bookshelf near his kitchen that has been taunting him since the moment he arrived, as if someone was watching. A sudden appearance by an over-familiar fairy who happens to be able to pass through the protective barrier surrounding the house. A charming boy’s last words scrawled on a page in an old notebook left to collect dust. A swirl of black ink on a page from a near-empty pen. A premonition of what was to come. An old well deep in the woods no mortal could ever find unless led directly to it. Lee Donghyuck never left the village in the middle of the night for greener pastures. He’s still here.

“I think they’re going to take me.”

Renjun takes a fearful step towards the well, one shaky hand outreached, the snow so cold that it burns the skin. He looks down into the black hole, hand finally reaching the hard stone of the well as he leans over. He’s not sure what he expected to see, but he lets himself fall backwards in sheer fright, cursing into the air as he lands hard on the ground. He has to hold back a retch, covering his mouth with his hand while feeling sick to his stomach, now at the core of the decaying forest.

The body at the bottom of the well is long decomposed, decade-longs if Mrs. Kim’s photographs are anything to go by, the mortal flesh retreating back to the earth and only leaving behind a skeleton directly looking to the sky. He doesn’t need to wonder, he already knows that it can only be him. He was out there all night in the freezing cold, so long that it’s probably what killed him if not for any injuries sustained as he fell the long, long way down.

Renjun coughs if only to dampen down the threat of vomiting, the sight burning into the back of his eyelids. He probably tried to save himself the entire night, clawing his way up the stones to no avail. He can feel Donghyuck’s spirit even now, tingling his skin and weighing down on his joints. He can sense Renjun’s wish to retreat, and he’ll do anything to stop him, not out of malice, but of desperation.

“No, no, Donghyuck, wait—!” Renjun shouts into the clearing, tears pricking in his eyes with his hands raised in surrender, “You have to let me go, please! I can’t help you alone…”

He screams in agony along the wet grass as his limbs go limp, the weight on his muscles unimaginable. It’s no wonder that the spirit has grown stronger all this time in its fear, its undying wish to be released from this world, considering how powerful Haechan’s magic has been since they met. He should have known. He should have seen the signs.

“Where are you, let me see you—” He gasps, using all his strength to turn around onto his back to face the well again, now steeped in the moonlight, “I promise you, I will come back for you. I need you to believe me. I won’t leave you here alone in the cold! I need the others, you understand? I need my friends to help you cross over.”

Nothing happens as he lies there, but at least the pain subsides, the weight on his body remaining stagnant, “You know me, Donghyuck-ah. You’ve known me for months. You know I wouldn’t do that to you. Give me an hour. I need one hour, and you’ll never suffer again.”

His throat is sore from shouting but he breathes in a gulp of air when the weight on his chest suddenly lifts, while slowly regaining his ability to fully move his limbs.

“I’ll be back,” He croaks, struggling to stand as he makes a break for the way he just came, “I’m coming right back for you.”

The way back is a blur, and he’s still half in shock that Donghyuck trusted him enough to let him go, even though his spirit is almost beyond saving. His hands stumble into his pockets, only to find that his phone has no service, not that it should be a surprise to him. He has to reach the house, or even the landline. He’d take anything at this point.

He remembers he’s left the bouquet of camellias on the ground somewhere near the well and doesn’t want to think about what comes next, what this means for Haechan, what this means for the house or how even the other fairies will react.

He’s running at this point, barely able to see in front of him in the dark, but the world is no longer silent. It’s as if the forest is crying out in fear, knowing that death is upon it if Renjun leaves to never return. What leaves remain on the evergreen trees are rustling in the shadows, the bugs and insects squirming loud in the earth and in the bark. He fears the trees may seal the entrances in retaliation in a split second thought, and in that moment a bird claws him straight in the shoulder.

Any other magical creature remaining in the forest, fairy or otherwise, is either hiding or would seek to torment him, punishing him for attempting to leave them all there to die. He can barely hear his own screams over the cawing of the flock of birds descending down on him, scratching his skin and clawing through his clothes.

He feels like his ears are going to explode, his body seconds from giving up and letting the forest take him, though his feet keep running through sheer will, following the retreating sounds of any wildlife able to escape through the forest entrance.

He’s made it the entire way to the point where he can see the initial archway when he trips over a tree root sticking unusually out of the ground. He trips and lands face first in the dirt, the birds using this opportune moment to flock to him once more. He can only feel the tall grass and flapping of wings when a pair of hands land on him, forcefully tearing him up from the ground.

Renjun shrieks in fear, searching for a face when the birds all retreat at once in unison.

“Renjun, Renjun, it’s me! It’s Ten! You’re alright,” Ten shakes him by the shoulders before cupping his face.

“Ten— What?! I—” Renjun blinks.

“My raven saw you deep in the forest, what were you thinking?! What are you doing out here? You’re hurt!”

“Ten, we have to go back!” He shouts, tears streaming down his face as the other begins to rub the dirt from him, “Everything will be dead by morning, it will spread to the village! We have to go now!”

“Slow down, breathe,” Ten holds him firmly, “Breathe, and take your time explaining.”

“He’s here,” Renjun cries, his voice quietly breaking as his hands begin to sting, “He’s been here this whole time.”

“Who?” Ten asks, wide-eyed.

“Lee Donghyuck, his skeleton is back there. His spirit is trapped and we’re the only ones who can help him—” He stumbles over his words, barely able to catch a breath as Ten squeezes his shaking hands. He takes a breath while he watches Ten’s face warp in confusion. “It’s Haechan.”

Ten’s jaw drops in response, his voice quietening to a whisper as he pieces it together, “The house, it’s his, isn’t it? That’s why he can breach the barrier.”

“We have to help him, hyung. It’s not his fault, it was a trap! I promised him! His spirit is too powerful for me to handle alone. It’ll destroy everything in its wake. He doesn’t mean to! We need—”

“We need three, I understand. I’m calling Yangyang,” He whips out his phone and quickly furrows his brow.

“The landline! In the house—” He blurts out as Ten is already turning towards the entrance. Renjun follows, his body on autopilot as they step across the final archway into the garden again.

“I’ll tell Kun I’m staying over at yours for the night. Yangyang is just in the next village over. My birds will have to stay here to keep watch. We can’t risk leaving anyone else behind in the house in case—”

“Was he in there?” Renjun looks frantically at the house, “Did you go in there when you arrived?”

Ten shakes his head, “I didn’t see Haechan. Hecate made a bolt for it, so I’m worried the spirit is tied to the house as well. We can’t go in there until the spirit has crossed over again, you understand?”

Renjun nods amidst the tears, his hands still clenched in Ten’s jacket.

“Renjun, I need you to be honest with me. Are you capable of doing this right now?” Ten looks him up and down in worry, “It will be hard to retreat once we all go in there.”

His body and spirit are at their limit. He’s freezing, he’s scratched, he’s weary, and while he doesn’t have the time to process what is unravelling, it’s starting to take its toll. Despite it all, they have no other choice if they want to salvage what’s left of the forest. “I can do it,” Renjun says, straightening his face, “I’ll lead us there.”

🕯️

And we fairies, that do run, By the triple Hecate’s team, From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic; not a mouse shall disturb this hallow’d house: I am sent with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the door. Through the house give glimmering light.

It takes a few moments before Renjun realises that Ten’s calling his name.

“H-Huh? Yes?” He blinks, standing in the middle of the kitchen with a broom in hand, where he started sweeping ten minutes before.

“You should sit, and eat. Yangyang’s already passed out on the couch by the fire,” Ten places a plate of food on the table, though his look of concern only grows. Renjun has been restless since they arrived back after helping Donghyuck’s spirit cross over, doing odd jobs around the house from the moment he stepped inside in order to keep his hands busy. But he’s barely spoken a word, practically detached from reality while lost in his thoughts.

As far as these events go, helping his spirit cross went as well as it could have gone. The three of them were just enough to ease his passing into the afterlife, but he was so focused on maintaining his composure and not collapsing in the forest that his numbed emotions were only starting to bubble to the surface now.

It’s well past midnight, but Ten wouldn’t let them cross the threshold of the house until they knew it was safe to do so. Yangyang had immediately gone to start the fire, anything to dispel the cold, while Ten rechecked the house for anything unusual. Renjun had run straight for the kitchen, his watchful eyes focused on the crack in the window frame that Haechan would use to enter the house.

“The barrier is intact,” Ten says reassuringly, “Though, no sign of any life or magic in this house besides us.”

Renjun closes his eyes, clenching his fist around the broom. The presence by the empty spot near the bookshelf that’s been there since the day he moved in has vanished. He can’t quite remember if he ever told Ten about it or not, so he remains silent. He’s too shaken to check Donghyuck’s notebook for remnants of the spirit, so here he stays, sweeping the floor in silence.

“I’m not hungry, I still feel sick,” he says truthfully.

Ten sighs quietly, “I’m leaving it here anyway in case you want to pick at it later. But you have to rest, what we did out there was a lot of magic for one night. I’m surprised the three of us managed it without issue. Your strength must be entirely spent.”

Renjun breathes in a shaky breath and takes a seat in his usual chair, his hands still clutching the broom. He knows there’s no chance of him falling asleep anytime soon, nor is Ten leaving his side in a hurry, so he attempts to claim his voice back, “What happens now?”

Ten pulls out the chair directly next to him and sets down two cups of hot tea, “We’ll take shifts for the night, just to monitor any after effects, though the forest seems calm now. We’ll call the police in the morning.”

“I’ll take the first shift,” Renjun says quickly despite Ten’s worried look.

“Only if you promise me you won’t go out there looking for him.”

“I promise,” Renjun says, though he holds his tongue lest he burst into tears again. He already knows that if Haechan were still out there, the first place he’d come is here or his own house in the forest, but he dampens down the thought. Checking the house in the tree would be the worst thing he could do right now, not when the forest is still so alarmed. Instead, he swaps the broom in his hands for the other teacup, at least something warm to hold.

Ten opens his mouth as if to say something though quickly closes it, deciding otherwise. He takes another sip of tea as Renjun runs his hands along the old porcelain. They watch as Hecate finally comes to join them, though the cat doesn’t look at them before beelining for the plate of food Renjun had put out earlier. Clearly, she has no news worthy of sparing. Though, the snow had already stopped by the time they left the forest earlier.

“This was his house,” Renjun whispers, staring off into the darkness outside the window, “We felt his presence since day one. That’s why nothing grows properly, why the plants were sick, why the animals were agitated. His spirit had fragmented but he was trying to lead me there all along, begging anyone who would come. He led me to the well months ago and I could have— I should have—”

Ten’s arms are already around him, and Renjun finally gives into his embrace, placing the cup down. His hands are still numb from the cold, the scratches from the birds still red raw as he sinks into the fabric of Ten’s soft hoodie.

“You did everything you could. We made it in time,” Ten says, rubbing his back.

“Maybe he wouldn’t have had to suffer so long if I had realised, I could have saved large parts of the forest. I—” He pauses to take a breath, squeezing Ten into a tighter hug, “He was in there all alone, his spirit trapped in the veil of the forest, only sparing enough to materialise as Haechan, a memory of his soul.”

“He wasn’t alone, he had you. His spirit was in Haechan, no matter how small or fleeting. You gave him the best final days he could have asked for. He’ll finally be at peace.”

“We’ll have to bury him first,” Renjun says, sniffling, “I wonder if he has any family left.”

“The police will have to enter the forest in the morning but I expect it will be safe. They’ll probably be able to identify the body with old dental records.”

Renjun swallows, his throat still dry, “His body, mind, and spirit were all astray. Do we even know for sure if—If Haechan disappeared when his spirit crossed over?”

Ten breathes out tiredly, turning to face him and clutching his hands to spread the warmth, “I know it’s a lot to take in at once, but I fear Haechan may also be gone, Renjun. I wouldn’t hold out hope on that.”

Renjun closes his eyes as Ten adjusts into a more comfortable embrace, their teas soon forgotten on the table. He doesn’t know how much time passes while they sit there, but he should at least let Ten sleep for a few hours until Yangyang can take over for the both of them. Tomorrow would be just as long of a day, and his future here was now more uncertain than ever.

“I wasn’t ready,” Renjun croaks, “It all happened too fast. I never got to say goodbye to him, as I knew him. There was so much I still planned to do.”

Ten raises his head, pushing Renjun’s hair out of his face, his voice low and tired but bearing a subtle smile, “For what it’s worth, that tiny fairy loved you with every fibre of his being. He trusted you with his life, where everyone else had failed.”

“I wish I had known. I feel as if I’ve wasted what precious little time we had together, just for it to all be gone in a split second, vanished as if it never happened. I’ve nothing left from my time here.”

“You loved him too, and that’s never time wasted,” Ten assures him, “It had been so long since I had seen you with a smile on your face, something to look forward to.”

Renjun quietly laughs into his shoulder, “Love him? A fairy?”

“Oh, come on, what else am I supposed to call it?” Ten sits up to stretch his limbs a little and Renjun follows suit, “You two were practically a live-in couple! You started building your schedule around his visits and you’d leave the pub early every night so you could come home to him.”

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did!” Ten laughs, wagging a finger at him, “You think I can’t see through you, Huang Renjun, but it’s always written all over your face. He had you wrapped around his little fingers. This place always reeked of his magic, lord knows what you let him do to you.”

Renjun laughs again for what feels like the first time in days, grabbing the cup in front of him only to feel its cold surface. He stands slowly, taking both the cups to the sink as Ten stands with a yawn.

“You know,” Ten’s voice lowers, “When you said today that someone was in there, I immediately thought it was—” He pauses, shuffling in place on the tiles, “I know I had assured you a thousand times he had passed from this world long ago but stranger things have happened. Stranger things seem to happen here every day, so I was a little surprised when you said it was— It’s a lot of loss in such a short span of time. I know you always say you’re fine and that you can handle living out here by yourself, but all that grief has to go somewhere.”

Renjun lets the water run over the cup before switching it off, placing everything on the sink. The only reason he came here in the first place was because his partner wanted to, the pair of them setting off on some brand new adventure, completely unaware of what exactly he was getting into. His reality has turned out a lot different than he could have ever imagined. Perhaps it was a risk coming out here all alone.

On the other hand, he doesn’t want to fathom what would have happened if no one had ever found Haechan, a potential catastrophic disaster for the ecosystem and community here alike. Every decision he’s made until now carried some number of risks. If some things really do happen for a reason, then Renjun was always meant to end up here, just like how Haechan was meant to find him, bursting through a crack in the window frame and waltzing right into his heart. It’s the only place left he can keep him.

“I guess I’m not as fine as I like to think,” Renjun half smiles, “So much time has passed since he died. I thought coming here alone, despite it, would help. I didn’t think it would still be like this. But having Haechan here helped, when nothing else did. We were better off knowing each other for a short period of time than never meeting at all.”

“Promise me you won’t go looking for him, in this plane or otherwise,” Ten says sleepily, leaning on the doorframe.

“I won’t, promise,” Renjun says, turning the main light off and switching to the nearby lamp, “I’m going to sit here though, with the light on. If there are any remnants of him left out there, he has to know he can always rest here.”

“In that case, I’m taking your bed,” Ten waves with a tired smile, “I’ll see you in the morning. Try to rest a little, but if you need me, come to me right away.”

Renjun hums in reply as lights switch off one by one at Ten’s retreat, and soon enough he’s alone in the dim light again in the quiet silence, not a sound to be heard aside from his own gentle breathing. He has no interest in the plate of food Ten left for him earlier, but the threat of sleep was starting to wear heavy on his eyelids.

He creeps around the hallways in the dark to use the bathroom as quietly as possible, taking his bath robe with him as another layer of warmth before heading back to the kitchen. Though on his way back through the halls, he pauses his movements, his hands itching to check something from the moment he walked in.

He stalks his way over to the bookshelf and reaches for Donghyuck’s notebook, carefully and quietly wiping away the collected dust on the cover with his palm. He doesn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, no energy in the air, no tingling in his palms, just the fragile binding and time-worn pages of a book that’s been sitting there patiently for decades, just like Donghyuck had been just a few minutes down the path from where Renjun stands now.

He holds his breath when he opens it, landing somewhere after the middle though the page is torn out, the torn scraps of what was left behind on the page on sunflowers. Renjun smiles fondly, though quickly closes the book before he can manage to tear up again, a subtle reminder that Haechan was once here, and that he was real.

💧

How now, my love? Why is your cheek so pale? How chance the roses there do fade so fast? Belike for want of rain, which I could well Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes.

Renjun wakes with a gasp, unsure of his surroundings when he first blinks through the sleep still in his eyes. A blanket has suddenly materialised on his lap, and then he realises he had fallen asleep in the chair by the window in the kitchen, the morning light glowing gently through the panes. He wraps his bath robe tighter around himself, feeling the subtle chill when he jumps in his seat.

“Morning,” Yangyang half smiles, mug in hand, still dressed in pyjamas and a hoodie, “The police are here. They’re out in the forest with Ten right now.”

Renjun’s face falls, the weight of reality finally crashing down on him. He doesn’t dare go to look out the window, but he doesn’t see much movement from the corner of his eye, a police car taking up most of the free space next to his own. Yangyang has since walked back across the room towards the cupboards, taking out another mug. He returns a few moments later and Renjun can vaguely make out him saying that he has strict orders from Ten to ensure that Renjun has something to eat and drink by the time he returns.

Before he knows it, he’s being ushered to the living room in front of the fire. He’s half out of his mind at this point, the knuckles on his hand ice cold. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but it was definitely before Yangyang had woken to take the next shift. Other than the three of them, there was no sign of life creeping through the halls of the house last night.

He curls up into a ball on the couch, grateful for the warmth of the tea that Yangyang brings, and truthfully, he’s never been more glad to see the sun. He can’t deny the feelings now bubbling beneath the surface, even if he’s not quite ready to let them out. He can already feel the same ache he felt just a few months before, a harrowing emptiness, a void so deep that he’d swear it could never be filled again.

The morning hours slip away as if lost to a dream. He doesn’t check the time when Ten finally returns, but the sun has since passed its peak for the day. Yangyang had succeeded in managing to get him to eat something small, but his feelings of heartache would come in waves. Peeling out of the damp clothes he had worn last night was the first major hurdle, coming face to face with the dirt on the fabric, and raw scratches in skin that looked so worrying that Yangyang had to help him tend to some of the wounds.

His magic was utterly spent, the thought alone of working with his hands for the next 24 hours drawing up the threat of nausea in his throat. Despite everything, he was determined to delve back into the forest before the nightfall. Ten wasn’t so approving of his bright ideas at first listen. Though, after a persistent back and forth between the three of them for almost an hour, and stressing the fact that the forest was slowly reclaiming its life back after the spirit had departed, he gave in to letting Renjun go alone, as long as he could stay back and keep watch.

Now ankle deep in the grass again, it’s like he can finally breathe for the first time since he left his house yesterday on a stroll to the flower shop. The forest is still buzzing in anticipation, in caution, though the wildlife relaxes a little knowing it’s just Renjun returning, letting him pass much more peacefully than when they last felt his presence.

He couldn’t bear going down to the village today, so he scavenged whatever spare items he could find in his house as an offering—a few sprigs of lavender, rosemary, a handful of coins and even the onion he was planning to give him today anyway. Though, it seems no token would ever be enough to honour such a bright spirit.

It’s as if the forest opens up to him, branches and twigs suddenly forming a path. No rocks or trunks or roots stick out of the ground to impede him, the forest welcoming him being the gentle breeze with a fleeting touch on his cheeks. While the landscape offers its subtle apologies for the harshness of its nature the night before, Renjun’s mind wanders to the other fairies that Haechan would mention on occasion.

He passes the ring of white mushrooms though nothing noteworthy calls to his attention. His heart wavers, wondering if it’s all entirely his fault if the fairies had to uproot and make a home someplace else. He was so concerned with the deterioration of the forest and the will of the spirit that the well being of the other fairies quietly slipped his mind.

Perhaps there were other ways he could make contact. He may have to consult Ten and his birds for a scouting mission, or send Hecate on a rat run, because surely their tailed friends would lead them right to them, if they were still lingering. He’s sure the fairies or the forest would make their presence known eventually, if they were still looking to Renjun to make amends, to seek help.

For now, he can only begin to start accepting the inevitable, that what they did was right, freeing Donghyuck’s spirit and letting him pass to the afterlife, no longer tethered to this earth, trapped in his inescapable suffering. The loss and the grief may never truly go away, but he owed it to Haechan to gather himself and his wits about him, seeking the sun and ensuring the forest flourishes once more.

He reaches the clearing before he’s entirely mentally prepared to, the old, stone well basking in the last light of day. The bouquet of red camellias lie near one of the trees, the packaging still speckled with leftover dew. He slowly reaches for them, knowing that Haechan would have loved them in any case.

The rest of his surroundings are a little worse for wear considering the conditions of last night, not to mention the events of this morning. He’d have to pick a day sometime soon when he’s rebuilt his strength, to clear some of the broken branches and tend to the unruly weeds and grass. Perhaps he could even begin planning to plant sunflowers here in the late spring, and start gathering his seeds once the winter is far behind them, when the trees are budding with leaves and flowers and all risk of frost has long passed.

He slowly walks closer to the well, leaning up against the hard stone and running his hand along the damp green moss. He can finally feel a sense of relief, knowing that Donghyuck was no longer suffering, though he can only imagine how hard the decades of pain and anguish had tarnished him, leaving behind just the old, stone well, any remnants of life now passed on.

He places the camellias down on the stones and all the order bits and bobs he had taken with him from home. He looks around for a more comforting spot, perhaps a nice soft patch of earth that would be more fitting to construct a remembrance, something to remember him by that isn’t tied to the well. He lets out a deep breath, wandering through the earth and the grass as the branches shake with a newfound wind.

“Are these for me?” A voice calls out from behind and Renjun freezes on the spot, clutching a hand to his chest. His heart is in his throat, his stomach queasy as his breakfast threatens to make a reappearance. It’s just a hallucination, a trick of the mind, another aberration of the forest to give him one last good scare.

He slowly turns, seeing a familiar fairy dragging stems out of the bouquet and he covers his eyes, running his hands harshly through his hair as he attempts to drag himself back to reality.

“It’s not real, it’s not real,” he whispers, “It’s just a figment of my imagination. I’m awake. The spirit has departed. I woke up this morning and the sun hasn’t set yet. I’m not under anyone’s spell—”

“Who’s spell?” The voice says a lot closer now, as if whispered in his ear. Renjun gasps, turning around at once, though the fairy hasn’t moved from the stone on the well, only now he’s staring back at him, a camellia clutched in hand.

“Haechan…?” Renjun whispers, still half convinced this is a dream he hasn’t yet woken from. He’s almost tempted to pinch himself, as if he’s locked in an illusion since he stepped into the forest, but nothing present around him directed him or lured him here in any way. The only other explanation he has is that some remnants of the spirit were left behind.

“You let someone put you under a spell while I was gone, Huang Renjun?” The fairy blurts out as he struggles to pull another camellia out. Renjun swallows, thinking of the house and the barrier, Lee Donghyuck’s notebook, the fairy house with the red door in the tree, scattered drawings and lyrics and gold coins as offerings, the old framed photograph in the flower shop, planted seeds in the clearing that failed to bear flowers. Lee Donghyuck’s spirit had touched the physical world so strongly that this plane wasn’t exactly going to let all of him go.

“No spell,” Renjun says quietly, mimicking Haechan’s words from under the red-capped mushroom, in both a response to the fairy and in realisation that this was anything but a dream. A memory incarnate like he suspected, not too dissimilar from childhood memories harboured so deeply within that you never forget them as long as you live. While the memory is maintained, Lee Donghyuck, or Haechan, lives on with it.

“Liar,” Haechan points back at him with a smile, “I can feel your magic all around here but others too! This is our place! Is that why you brought me gifts? You knew I would figure it out!” He attempts to pull out another camellia only to stumble on his feet, falling backwards on the stone a little too close to the edge for comfort as red petals fall in a cascade around him.

“Haechan!” Renjun shouts out so quickly that his voice breaks. He dashes back to the well, scooping Haechan up into his arms despite his better judgement. The fairy scrambles in his embrace, his wings getting caught and leaving residue on the fabric of his coat as he attempts to stick his messy head up for air. Renjun sinks to his knees in the cool grass, his eyes frantically trying to meet his gaze. “Haechan—” He croaks, his eyes wetting with tears, “You fell— You have to stay away from this well!”

“Huang Renjun,” the fairy coughs out, gasping for air as he clings to his arm, “What are you doing? I’m not going to fall, I have perfectly good wings, you know. At least, I did before you grabbed me—”

Haechan’s voice trails off, his eyes blinking widely as Renjun breaks into a sob, one that’s been stuck brewing in his chest so long that he can barely breathe between cries. He hadn’t cried this hard when he initially found Haechan, or even when his partner had died. It had always been easier to numb himself from within, to hold strong and show a straight face in order to survive whatever came next, to not risk weakness, to risk judgement from anyone that would look upon him. He’s been coasting through his life like a ghost ever since, too cautious, too afraid to build any more attachments, and despite all his hiding in the shadows, Haechan saw him coming from a mile away.

“Huang Renjun, why do you cry? Where have your red rose cheeks gone—Ah!” Haechan shrieks when Renjun places a wet kiss on his head, tears rolling down his cheeks and splashing down on him.

“Ah—Wait, wait! You didn’t do it right, you have to do it like we discussed last time in the rain!” He scrambles as Renjun begins to laugh through the fairies' demands for him to do it again.

🌱

For you, in my respect, are all the world. Then how can it be said I am alone. When all the world is here to look on me?

The coming of spring was like a breath of relief, the previous winter so long, dark, and bitterly cold that the afternoon sun and feeling of warmth across Renjun’s face was as if he was experiencing it for the first time. The forest was alive and buzzing, the first signs of leaves and flowers budding, too grateful for oncoming sunlight hours and heat that came with them.

Renjun had spent the best part of the winter months clearing the forest of weeds and debris, gathering branches and wood that could be put to use elsewhere, tending the remaining flowers and monitoring the soils and the marshes, ensuring that the forest would thrive and be ready for the new year as if it was his duty to be its keeper.

The grass is healthy with fresh morning dew still lingering in the shaded parts as Haechan drags him along, their hands firmly clasped as the leaves stain his clothes and skin and the earth muddies his boots, though he pays no mind.

“Are you sure about this?” Renjun asks as Haechan skips happily along, teeming with excitement but with a subtle nervousness on the surface, one hand gripping him tight while the other fusses with his own clothes, “You didn’t seem so eager for me to meet them before, and even less enthusiastic when we accidentally bumped into Jeno one time—”

“I already told them you were coming, so they’ll be prepared this time. And they won’t call you names or… Or…”

“Or?”

“Or snatch you from your bed or threaten to put you under their spell or—”

“What now?!”

“Nothing—” He gasps, pausing so quickly in his steps when he reaches the edge of the tall grass that Renjun walks right into him again, bumping their heads together. They both yell out in pain, rubbing the tender spots in the head when Renjun looks up and realises why they’ve stopped.

There’s a lot more fairies here than he originally anticipated, a few he can vaguely recognise though for the most part he was likely deeply affected by a love spell too powerful for him to fully remember their names from months ago.

“Where have you been, you’re late,” The fairy in front looks to Haechan as he scoops large flower seeds into a sack, standing right next to another fairy he’s sure he’s never met or heard of that was seemingly in deep conversation with Mark just moments before they burst in.

“Mark, don’t embarrass me in front of—”

“Renjun!” The fairy with cat-like eyes and a mischievous smile reaching out towards him as a taller fairy with a bow on his back immediately drags him back and tucks him far behind. The pair of them begin squabbling just as another pair cautiously approaches him, though this time it’s Renjun who tucks himself behind Haechan.

“Jeno, we meet again,” Renjun says to Haechan’s surprise, though they just eye each other up and down before Jeno decides to speak up.

“This is Jaemin,” he gestures to the other fairy whose smile feels a little more sinister underneath. Jaemin begins to open his mouth before Mark interrupts again, standing between them.

“We’ll have more time for introductions later,” He says, chucking a sack at Haechan who practically collapses on the impact, “We have to move now if we want to gather more seeds before the birds and the bees return.” He sets off in the opposite direction, quickly followed by Jeno and Jaemin though the cat-like fairy and his companion linger behind, whispering between themselves as they stare his way.

“We’re gathering seeds? I’d still rather be home before dark, you know?”

“You will be!” He stresses, “I didn’t want to go but they said you could tag along in an effort to ensure I come at all. I’ll take any excuse to go home early.” He takes his hand again, the sack now slung across his shoulder.

“And what if the birds recognise me or you and go and tell Ten, huh?” Renjun snickers as Haechan visibly shivers.

“Ten has already seen me beg for mercy, as have some of the others here, I can handle it.” He puffs out his chest though Renjun laughs him off.

The group of them flock to a row of bushes, gathering or eating whatever berries they can before they make a dart for the nearby flowers that have already seeded. Likely on orders from Ten, Hecate passes them by from time to time, much to the fear of some of the others though Haechan now even admires her from afar, rolling around in the grass in the sunspots.

It’s a timeline he could have never imagined for himself, his hands stained red from berries while dandelion seeds fly all around and get stuck in his hair, Haechan’s laugh flooding through the air as the others make a joke, the cat-like fairy proudly showing off his wings to Renjun as his friend finally makes a nervous introduction, even Jaemin and Jeno showing interest at Renjun’s magic and any future plans he has for the forest floor, a soft fondness for Mark forming as the leader of the group that Renjun’s sure must still be influenced somehow from the love potion gone wrong.

Meeting Haechan was never in the cards, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. He’s not sure if it is love, but it’s the first feeling of comfort and adventure he’s had in a long time. He cannot love as he has loved before, it will never be the same, and neither will he. All he can do is recognise what love is when it’s directly in front of him, and not to let it simply pass him by.

He spots the glint of the sun's rays on the old stone well in the far distance, before Haechan drags him back into the light of the sun.