Third person's pov:
Tzuyu led Sana back to the room that he'd pointed out as Jeongyeon's office. He paused outside the door for an instant.
"Come in," Jeongyeon's voice invited.
Tzuyu opened the door to a high-ceilinged room with tall, west-facing windows. The walls were paneled again, in a darker wood — where they were visible. Most of the wall space was taken up by towering bookshelves that reached high above their head and held more books than she'd ever seen outside a library.
Jeongyeon sat behind a huge mahogany desk in a leather chair. He was just placing a bookmark in the pages of the thick volume he held. The room was how always a college dean's would look —only Jeongyeon looked too young to fit the part.
"What can I do for you?" Jeongyeon asked them pleasantly, rising from his seat.
"I wanted to show Sana some of our history," Tzuyu said. "Well, your history, actually."
"We didn't mean to disturb you," Sana apologized.
"Not at all. Where are you going to start?"
"The Waggoner," Tzuyu replied, placing one hand lightly on Sana's shoulder and spinning her around to look back toward the door they'd just come through.
Every time Tzuyu touched Sana, in even the most casual way, her heart had an audible reaction. The wall they faced now was different from the others. Instead of bookshelves, this wall was crowded with framed pictures of all sizes, some in vibrant colors, others dull monochromes. She searched for some logic, some binding motif the collection had in common, but she found nothing in her hasty examination.
Tzuyu pulled her toward the far left side, standing her in front of a small square oil painting in a plain wooden frame. This one did not stand out among the bigger and brighter pieces; painted in varying tones of sepia, it depicted a miniature city full of steeply slanted roofs, with thin spires atop a few scattered towers. A wide river filled the foreground, crossed by a bridge covered with structures that looked like tiny cathedrals.
"Suwon, Gyeonggi Province, South Korea in the sixteen-fifties," Tzuyu said.
"The Suwon of my youth," Jeongyeon added, from a few feet behind them. Sana flinched; she hadn't heard him approach. Tzuyu squeezed her hand.
"Will you tell the story?" Tzuyu asked. Sana twisted a little to see Jeongyeon's reaction.
Jeongyeon met Sana glance and smiled. "I would," he replied. "But I'm actually running a bit late. The hospital called this morning — Dr. Kwon is taking a sick day. Besides, you know the stories as well as I do," he added, grinning at Tzuyu now.
It was a strange combination to absorb — the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion of his early days in seventeenth-century Suwon.
It was also unsettling to know that he spoke aloud only for her benefit. After another warm smile for her, Jeongyeon left the room.
Sana stared at the little picture of Jeongyeon's hometown for a long moment.
"What happened then?" Sana finally asked, staring up at Tzuyu, who was watching her. "When he realized what had happened to him?" He glanced back to the paintings, and she looked to see which image caught his interest now. It was a larger landscape in dull fall colors — an empty, shadowed meadow in a forest, with a craggy peak in the distance.
"When he knew what he had become," Tzuyu said quietly, "he rebelled against it. He tried to destroy himself. But that's not easily done."
"How?" Sana didn't mean to say it aloud, but the word broke through her shock.
"He jumped from great heights," Tzuyu told her, his voice impassive. "He tried to drown himself in the ocean… but he was young to the new life, and very strong. It is amazing that he was able to resist…feeding… while he was still so new. The instinct is more powerful then, it takes over everything. But he was so repelled by himself that he had the strength to try to kill himself with starvation."
"Is that possible?" Sana's voice was faint.
"No, there are very few ways we can be killed." She opened her mouth to ask, but he spoke before she could.
"So Jeongyeon grew very hungry, and eventually weak. He strayed as far as he could from the human populace, recognizing that his willpower was weakening, too. For months he wandered by night, seeking the loneliest places, loathing himself.
"One night, a herd of deer passed his hiding place. He was so wild with thirst that he attacked without a thought. His strength returned and he realized there was an alternative to being the vile monster he feared. Had he not eaten venison in his former life? Over the next months his new philosophy was born. He could exist without being a demon. He found himself again.
"He began to make better use of his time. He'd always been intelligent, eager to learn. Now he had unlimited time before him. He studied by night, planned by day. He swam to France and —"
"He swam to France?"
"People swim the Channel all the time, Sana," Tzuyu reminded her patiently.
"That's true, I guess. It just sounded funny in that context. Go on."
"Swimming is easy for us —"
"Everything is easy for you," Sana griped.
Tzuyu waited, his expression amused.
"I won't interrupt again, I promise."
Tzuyu chuckled darkly, and finished his sentence. "Because, technically, we don't need to breathe."
"You —"
"No, no, you promised." He laughed, putting his cold finger lightly to her lips. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"
"You can't spring something like that on me, and then expect me not to say anything," She mumbled against his finger.
Tzuyu lifted his hand, moving it to rest against her neck. The speed of her heart reacted to that, but she persisted.
"You don't have to breathe?" Sana demanded.
"No, it's not necessary. Just a habit." Tzuyu shrugged.
"How long can you go… without breathing?"
"Indefinitely, I suppose; I don't know. It gets a bit uncomfortable — being without a sense of smell."
"A bit uncomfortable," Sana echoed.
Sana wasn't paying attention to her own expression, but something in it made him grow somber. His hand dropped to his side and he stood very still, his eyes intent on her face. The silence lengthened. His features were immobile as stone.
"What is it?" Sana whispered, touching his frozen face. His face softened under her hand, and he sighed. "I keep waiting for it to happen."
"For what to happen?"
"I know that at some point, something I tell you or something you see is going to be too much. And then you'll run away from me, screaming as you go." Tzuyu smiled half a smile, but his eyes were serious. "I won't stop you. I want this to happen, because I want you to be safe. And yet, I want to be with you. The two desires are impossible to reconcile…" He trailed off, staring at her face. Waiting.
"I'm not running anywhere," Sana promised.
"We'll see," Tzuyu said, smiling again.
Sana frowned at him. "So, go on — Jeongyeon was swimming to France." Tzuyu paused, getting back into his story. Reflexively, his eyes flickered to another picture — the most colorful of them all, the most ornately framed, and the largest; it was twice as wide as the door it hung next to. The canvas overflowed with bright figures in swirling robes, writhing around long pillars and off marbled balconies. Sana couldn't tell if it represented Greek mythology, or if the characters floating in the clouds above were meant to be biblical.
"Jeongyeon swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. By night he studied music, science, medicine — and found his calling, his penance, in that, in saving human lives." His expression became awed, almost reverent. "I can't adequately describe the struggle; it took Jeongyeon two centuries of torturous effort to perfect his self-control. Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. He finds a great deal of peace there, at the hospital…" Tzuyu stared off into space for a long moment. Suddenly he seemed to recall his purpose. He tapped his finger against the huge painting in front of them.
"He was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there. They were much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the Suwon, Gyeonggi Province." Tzuyu touched a comparatively sedate quartet of figures painted on the highest balcony, looking down calmly on the mayhem below them. Sana examined the grouping carefully and realized, with a startled laugh, that she recognized the golden-haired man.
"Solimena (Italian painter) was greatly inspired by Jeongyeon's friends. He often painted them as gods," Tzuyu chuckled.
"Kim Suho, Kim Mingyu, Kim Woojin," he said, indicating the other three, two black-haired, one snowy-white. "Nighttime patrons of the arts."
"What happened to them?" Sana wondered aloud, her fingertip hovering a centimeter from the figures on the canvas.
"They're still there." Tzuyu shrugged. "As they have been for who knows how many millennia. Jeongyeon stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. He greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural food source,' as they called it. They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them, to no avail. At that point, Jeongyeon decided to try the New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. He was very lonely, you see.
"Jeongyeon didn't find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, he found he could interact with unsuspecting humans as if he
were one of them. He began practicing medicine. But the companionship he craved evaded him; he couldn't risk familiarity.
"When the influenza epidemic hit, he was working nights in a hospital in Taiwan. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years, and he had almost decided to act — since he couldn't find a companion, he would create one. He wasn't absolutely sure how his own transformation had occurred, so he was hesitant. And he was loath to steal anyone's life the way his had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that he found me. There was no hope for me; I was left in a ward with the dying. He had nursed my parents, and knew I was alone. He decided to try…" Tzuyu's voice, nearly a whisper now, trailed off. He stared unseeingly through the west windows. Sana wondered which images filled his mind now, Jeongyeon's memories or his own. She waited quietly.
When Tzuyu turned back to Sana, a gentle angel's smile lit his expression.
"And so we've come full circle," Tzuyu concluded.
"Have you always stayed with Jeongyeon, then?" Sanawondered.
"Almost always." Tzuyu put his hand lightly on her waist and pulled her with him as he walked through the door. She stared back at the wall of pictures, wondering if she would ever get to hear the other stories.
Tzuyu didn't say any more as they walked down the hall, so Sana asked,
"Almost?"
Tzuyu sighed, seeming reluctant to answer. "Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence — about ten years after I was… born… created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn't sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So I went off on my own for a time."
"Really?" Sana was intrigued, rather than frightened, as she perhaps should have been.
Tzuyu could tell. She vaguely realized that they were headed up the next flight of stairs, but she wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings.
"That doesn't repulse you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I guess… it sounds reasonable."
Tzuyu barked a laugh, more loudly than before. They were at the top of the stairs now, in another paneled hallway.
"From the time of my new birth," he murmured, "I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That's why it took me ten years to defy Jeongyeon — I could read his perfect sincerity, understand exactly why he lived the way he did.
"It took me only a few years to return to Jeongyeon and recommit to his vision. I thought I would be exempt from the... depression… that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl — if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible."
Sana shivered, imagining only too clearly what he described — the alley at night, the frightened girl, the dark man behind her. And Tzuyu, Tzuyu as he hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. Would she have been grateful, that girl, or more frightened than before?
"But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Jeongyeon and Nayeon. They welcomed me back like the prodigal. It was more than I deserved."
They come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall.
"My room," Tzuyu informed Sana, opening it and pulling her through. His room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. His view looked down on the winding River, across the untouched forest to the Mountain range. The mountains were much closer. The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs. His room was better stocked than a music store. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.
"Good acoustics?" Sana guessed.
Tzuyu chuckled and nodded.
He picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with them. Sana went to look at his mind-boggling music collection.
"How do you have these organized?" Sana asked, unable to find any rhyme or reason to the titles.
He wasn't paying attention.
"Ummm, by year, and then by personal preference within that frame," Tzuyu said absently. Sana turned, and he was looking at her with a peculiar expression in his eyes.
"What?"
"I was prepared to feel… relieved. Having you know about everything, not needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn't expect to feel more than that. I like it. It makes me… happy." Tzuyu shrugged, smiling slightly.
"I'm glad," Sana said, smiling back. She is worried that he might regret telling her these things. It was good to know that wasn't the case. But then, as his eyes dissected her expression, his smile faded and his forehead creased.
"You're still waiting for the running and the screaming, aren't you?" Sana guessed.
A faint smile touched his lips, and he nodded.
"I hate to burst your bubble, but you're really not as scary as you think you are. I don't find you scary at all, actually," Sana lied casually. He stopped, raising his eyebrows in blatant disbelief. Then he flashed a dimple, wide, wicked smile.
"You really shouldn't have said that," Tzuyu chuckled. He growled, a low sound in the back of his throat; his lips curled back over his perfect teeth. His body shifted suddenly, half-crouched, tensed like a lion about to pounce.
Sana backed away from him, glaring.
"You wouldn't."
Sana didn't see him leap at her — it was much too fast. She only found herself suddenly airborne, and then they crashed onto the sofa, knocking it into the wall. All the while, his arms formed an iron cage of protection around her — she was barely jostled. But she still was gasping as she tried to right herself.
Tzuyu wasn't having that. He curled Sana into a ball against his chest, holding her more securely than iron chains. She glared at him in alarm, but he seemed well in control, his jaw relaxed as he grinned, his eyes bright only with humor.
"You were saying?" Tzuyu growled playfully.
"That you are a very, very terrifying monster," Sana said, Her sarcasm marred a bit by her breathless voice.
"Much better," Tzuyu approved.
"Um." She struggled. "Can I get up now?" He just laughed.
"Can we come in?" a soft voice sounded from the hall. Sana struggled to free herself, but Tzuyu merely readjusted her so that she was somewhat more conventionally seated on his lap. She could see it was Mina, then, and Chaeyoung behind her in the doorway. Sana's cheeks burned, but Tzuyu seemed at ease.
"Go ahead." Tzuyu was still chuckling quietly. Mina seemed to find nothing unusual in their embrace; she walked —almost danced, her movements were so elegant — to the center of the room, where she folded herself sinuously onto the floor. Chaeyoung, however, paused at the door, his expression a trifle shocked. He stared at Tzuyu's face, and Sana wondered if he was tasting the atmosphere with his unusual sensitivity.
"It sounded like you were having Sana for lunch, and we came to see if you would share," Mina announced.
Sana stiffened for an instant, until she realized Tzuyu was grinning — whether at Mina's comment or Sana's response, she couldn't tell.
"Sorry, I don't believe I have enough to spare," Tzuyu replied, his arms holding her recklessly close.
"Actually," Chaeyoung said, smiling despite himself as he walked into the room, "Mina says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Dahyun wants to play ball. Are you game?"
The words were all common enough, but the context confused Sana. She gathered that Mina was a bit more reliable than the weatherman, though. Tzuyu's eyes lit up, but he hesitated.
"Of course you should bring Sana," Mina chirped. Sana thought she saw Chaeyoung throw a quick glance at Mina.
"Do you want to go?" Tzuyu asked her, excited, his expression vivid.
"Sure." Sana couldn't disappoint such a face. "Um, where are we going?"
"We have to wait for thunder to play ball — you'll see why," Tzuyu promised.
"Will I need an umbrella?"
They all three laughed aloud.
"Will she?" Chaeyoung asked Mina.
"No." Mina was positive. "The storm will hit over town. It should be dry enough in the clearing."
"Good, then." The enthusiasm in Chaeyoung's voice was catching, naturally. Sana found herself eager, rather than scared stiff.
"Let's go see if Jeongyeon will come." Mina bounded up and to the door in a fashion that would break any ballerina's heart.
"Like you don't know," Chaeyoung teased, and they both were swiftly on their way. Chaeyoung managed to inconspicuously close the door behind them.
"What will we be playing?" Sana demanded.
"You will be watching," Tzuyu clarified. "We will be playing baseball." She rolled her eyes. "Vampires like baseball?"
"It's the American pastime," Tzuyu said with mock solemnity.
To be continue...