C H A P T E R
T W E N T Y - F O U R
I was a child again, hiding under a blanket, reciting the mathematical equations that I read on a book that Sicheng's Mom gave me.
She gave me a pencil. And a normal-sized spiral notebook. I didn't use it though, well at least not for math equations.
I drew a satellite within an orbit. I called it Planet Dream-On-You're-Stuck-In-This-City-Forever. I drew another one, overwriting the previously drawn bar graph with an even larger satellite. I called it 872-3. Not for any geographical reasons though, but simply because it's the password to the washroom. Sicheng's Mom was always so strict and paranoid; she ended up providing locks for each rooms. Well, now that I talked about the washroom then I guess I'll name the next planet that I'd draw Planet Toilet. Because, well, aside from it resembling a toilet, it also looked like a black hole. And we all know that the spiral within it was similar when you're flushing a damn toilet.
I chuckled by myself, finding entertainment at my very own self-admitted bad and terrible humor. Oh, poor me. If Sicheng were here, he'd probably say it was funny even though I was pretty sure it wasn't.
That's when I found out, that little kids find everything funny. Even though they named a planet with a very lame name.
_______
I was a teenage girl again, and teenage girls rarely find anything funny.
Not when your stepmom just got rid of your gloves. Not when you're tearing up over a boy who won't look at you during dinner.
It was humiliating. I begged for attention and I never did that, certainly not for this reason.
He's like a physical embodiment of water. It's there, but you can't grasp hold of it. He was just a bedraggle.
After my stepmom got rid of my gloves, I had no idea how to idea my scars anymore. This was definitely worse than the virus, because it was a label. An articulation that I was marked upon. A proof that I can't be weak, or secretive, or hiding. My stepmom gave me a laptop and made me watch videos about the biological system of human beings. She said what good does my face bring when my knowledge isn't enough. Witty people were more intimidating than attractive ones, she said.
If brain and beauty were merged together, they'll form a dangerous pair.
That's partly true maybe. But I wasn't studying for their sake, it's mine.
One day, I would use this knowledge against them.
One day, I need not to cower on the corner or cut my hair short just for a guy to notice me.
Heavens.
I felt heat spreading across my cheeks as the memory dipped in. It's humiliating. The memory of myself combing my hair behind my ears flashed in my mind, including the moment when I passed by him just so he can see my dress. However, he never spared glance at anything besides his plate. The son of the Ruler won't ever notice me.
But what was I sent here for?
I focused back on the laptop's screen, studying intensely the charts and diagrams that were being showed.
"The Neowaves of a person are affected by the chromosomes. They are the genetic material of a virus. They are dispersed in the human brain, disseminating their core mind and consciousness."
No matter how much I willed myself to concentrate, I kept on reminiscing back to what happened in the dining room.
Why on earth won't he notice me? Am I irritating to the eyes? Am I ugly?
I clenched my fists tight and slammed the laptop shut.
With a deep sigh, I looked back at my wounds.
I breathed deeply and went outside the room in an attempt to go the rooftop for some fresh air. Then as if on cue, a plagent sound of a door banging made me wince.
Then lamentable voices of soft whispers reached my ears. But they hardly made any sound, like a tinkle of glasswares bumping together.
Across the hallway from my room, two tall silhouettes were standing beyond the stretching light of the 1000-lumen beacons.
A round, silver electric door, covered in all stupid regal badges, began to glow in front of me. I immediately secured myself behind one of the stations, wondering what the newcomers' purpose was.
Then, all of a sudden, one of the men started speaking. His voice was incredibly soft, but I can still hear him.
"Somebody tried to assassinate him today. Again. My son is no longer safe."
"You should hire someone to guard him, Taka. The institution can't bear to lose him. He's the only heir-"
"Mayuu and I can make another child-"
"You know that's impossible. His mother isn't capable of bearing another child! She's sick. You should start looking for a -"
"For what? A surrogate? No! I refuse. Mayuu is the only woman-"
"Yuta's your only son, Taka! How many gunshots did he hear every night, every hour? How many knives were placed on his throat while he's asleep? How many strangers attempted to poison him? The kid won't even eat his dinner, stared at it as if it were the meat of a beast - "
"Enough!" he screamed, because it was easier to be angry than to be frightened.
My breath hitched and when I looked at my fingers, they were as gray as ghost.
"My son is just a boy!" the man, Yuta's father, continued on. His voice was rigid and tensed.
"He's destined for far more than that!" screamed the other person back.
"He's weak! Don't you understand? He can't stand up against the - "
"That's why you need to train him, Taka. He'd been hiding behind the gates all these years. And what has gotten into your mind for you to bring him to the Dong's household, this household? This... this..," a snort. "This bastille cell-"
"What do you suggest me to do then?"
"He should know how to stand up! Teach him, educate him. I have a son, too, Taka. Yuta and Taeyong, my boy, they are of the same age. But honestly, if they were to duel now, your son will lose in an instant because of how terrified you were from molding him to what he really should be -"
"I won't imprison my child, Mr. Lee. I cherish him. He's not just some sort of a test experiment-"
"Fine. If you keep thinking that way, then I won't force you to change your mind. But remember that I warned you."
A few seconds later, I heard the sound of footsteps walking away and the ding of an elevator not too far away from my position.
Then it became quiet, as if the brief vehemence from earlier smothered as fast as when the lights in the hallway buzzed and flickered like bristles.
Safe, my mind screamed. Safe and clear, Sooji. Nobody knew you heard them. Nobody.
"Whoever's hiding there, show yourself."
With the dying warmth on my face, I tried to convince myself that it wasn't my presence that he felt. I tried not to think about anything other than pulling the sleeves of my sweater paws even further just to conceal the hideous marks on the back of my hand.
"I said show yourself."
I methodically inhaled a sharp breath, glancing at my reflection on the silver floor. There she was, me, frightened and nervous.
I should've listened to Sicheng's mother and stayed at my room, watching boring videos at my laptop.
Like a shell, I slowly descended from my hiding spot to reveal myself.
The man gave me a look, something between confused and surprised.
His features and Yuta's were distractingly similar. Only that his son's feature was a lot softer and younger. They both possessed wide, brown eyes. Like autumn leaves,
"You must be Mrs. Dong's daughter. What's your name?"
He saw me sharing dinner with him earlier, yet he didn't even know my name. I therefore conclude that 90 percent of the people around me only knew I was a Dong. Further than that, they didn't care what my real name was. Only my family name identified who I am. A missing person.
"Sooji," I answered.
"That's a lovely name. Can I call you Sooji?"
If he would, it would be the second time anyone had ever called by my real name after I was kidnapped from home. Sicheng was the first.
"Yes," I said. But deep down, I wanted to decline. I was nowhere near the past Sooji. The past Sooji was happy, brave, kind, complete. The me right now only knew symbols, equations, numbers, the virus and the Capital. The goddamnit Capital.
"How old are you, Sooji?"
"I'm fourteen," I answered.
A smile lifted the corner of his lips upward and it immediately reminded me of Baba's.
"You're the same age as my son. He's turning fourteen a couple of days from now."
"I see."
"His name is Yuta. You guys should be friends. My son doesn't have any friend his age," a soft chuckle left his lips. "He's kind of, hmmm, strange."
"I am quite strange too," I mumbled. The statement was supposed to be for myself, but since he laughed then I guessed he heard it.
"Then you two would get along."
I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding. The man was still staring at me, smiling pleasantly.
That's when adrenaline consumed my body, sending shocks and involuntary commands to my brain. Chest tightening, I dared to ask him the question threatening to release from behind my lips.
"Can I ask what happened to his mother? To your wife?" I asked. "What is she sick from?"
Why can't she bear another child?
Unexpectedly, his eyes didn't go wide. Instead, he just held my gaze softly and slightly crouched. So he knew I was listening to their conversation earlier.
"Why are you asking this?" he asked, his voice never setting off.
"Because I agree with what that other man said," I pursed my lips together and swallowed a lump in my throat. "Sir, you need to look out for your son. He needs a sibling, you need to produce a new heir, just in case that he will die--"
"My son lives," he interrupted sharply, words heavy with the weight of distress.
"But, Sir, he can't-"
"Dad?"
My heart froze upon hearing a soft voice from behind. I whipped my head at the direction and there he was, Nakamoto Yuta, my target ever since the day I stepped in this place.
"Yuta, boy, what are you doing here?"
"I was looking for you," he breathed. "I want to go home."
Then his eyes landed on my figure. Slowly, he's observing me. I felt my stomach tighten. Our first eye contact.
I subconsciously glided a strand of my hair behind my left ear, clearing my throat and putting my feet together.
Then his father swept past me and I heard him say, "Did you have a fun time, son? Did you enjoy your meal?"
"It was delicious," he answered.
Liar.
"That's good, Yuta, that's good," a short pause. "Are you sure you want to go home?"
Yuta nodded. "This place makes me feel uncomfortable," he replied. "And I missed Mom."
My fingers twitched.
"Alright," then his father spared a glance at me. Meanwhile, Yuta was already staring. Perhaps he's wondering why I was even here, talking to his Dad.
I was supposed to say a hi or a hello. But I can't bring myself to. My plans were crushed in an instant that he's really here.
His father placed his hand on his son's back, making him face the other direction, therefore breaking the eye contact from me.
"Come on. I'll take you home."
Then they walked away, leaving me by the hallway. His father said that he and I should've been friends. I reckoned he changed his mind.
Nakamoto Yuta and I could never be friends.
________
Six years had passed. I'm twenty now. A grown-up.
I was lying on the bed of the man I once thought I could never get along with. And he was here with me as well, his eyes brighter than the other night.
"You're beautiful," I whispered.
He smirked, loving the compliment. It was a sugary kind of a smile.
My heart beat even faster. "Stop doing that."
"What?"
"Smiling. Smirking. Whatever."
"Come on, Soo, I know you like it."
I rolled my eyes and after a second, he was already above my body.
"Why do you always smell this good?" he asked, his tone beaming in wonder.
"I have my ways," I teased him and flashed my sweetest smile.
He leaned down. "How many hours until you're going back to the city?"
"Two," I lied. It's one and a half, actually.
"Good," then he kissed me slowly.
The air was full of things we weren't saying. Desperate for Yuta to feel it too, I kissed him back lovingly. I gripped a lock of his hair and flipped him over so I was the one on top now.
"So this is why Ten's crazy for you."
I rolled my eyes and snorted. "I don't do this to him, Your Distingué."
He lifted a brow.
I sighed while smiling. "Seriously, if you think that there's something between me and Ten then you're wrong. We're just friends."
"On your birthday party..."
"Oh god, Yuta, it was just a kiss."
He didn't reply. Instead, he just gave me this look.
"Don't tell me that you were... jealous?"
His ears turned red. Gosh. I wasn't expecting this. Not in a million years.
"You don't need to be jealous anymore, Yuta. You're the one I like." To reassure him, I combed his hair away and said, "Do you think I would this to other men?" I leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. "Or this," I kissed the corner of his lips, his tensed jaw, and then his warm neck.
For years, I had almost thought of giving up. But right now, I was pressing my lips freely to his skin wherever I desire. I must be dreaming.
I felt Yuta's chest heaved up and down. And I noticed he's looking down at me with half-lidded eyes, letting me do as I pleased.
After what felt like a heartbeat, I heard him murmur. "Why are you still wearing your gloves?"
I stopped kissing him. "Why not? They're your gift."
"I want to feel you. That thing keeps on getting in the way."
"My skin is... different."
"What does that suppose to mean?"
"I have... tendencies to be as cold as ice. I don't want to freeze you or something. Besides, don't you like it warm?" I lied. The true reason was that I didn't want to touch him with a skin that wasn't mine. If it were the past me, I'd probably still decline. Afterall, if not for this fair new skin, it's all over decorated with scars.
I looked back at Yuta.
His eyes were bluer than usual, holding serenity and passion.
Then I rememered when we were kids, they weren't blue. They were brown.
"Is it just me or did the color of your eyes change?"
He looked surprised. "What are you talking about?"
"Your eyes," I looked at him and breathed. "They weren't blue before."
"They're always blue."
"Are you sure?" my heart warped. I was so sure they were brown before. I knew because his previous eyes reminded me of the bark of a tree. It reminded me of home. But right now, I felt something entirely different.
"No," he finally admitted. "I'm not sure. I-I'm terrified to find out. My Mom told that she always like to have a blue-eyed child. But then..." he sighed. "Can we talk about this thing another day? I don't want to remember..."
My heart kicked against my ribs like a spooked horse. I flattened my lips to a thin line.
"I don't understand-"
"If I asked you right now if you could take off your gloves, would you, Sooji?" he interrupted.
"I-I am not prepared," I answered.
He looked at me lightly, eyes shadowing like untold stories.
"We both aren't prepared then."
_____
Here's a cracky update for all of you since it's my birthday today👉👈 (gosh. I'm 18 now like wtf) thank you to everyone who greeted me. All of you are literally the sweetest persons ever!😭😭😭❤
And oh, pls support my friend's xxlyraxx Lucas fanfic "The One". She's still a newbie but her writing skills are great!! She deserves all the love. <333 Go check it out or else you're missing something good!!!
PS. During Jeena's POV in BOSS, it was described that Yuta's eyes were brown. And in Champion, Sooji said they were blue. Only one or two readers noticed this. You're going to find out more about it :D! And on the next chapters, get ready to be wrecked by Ten and Taeyong and Jungwoo (and Hendery) bc they'll star a lot after Sooji reenters the city. So stay tuned~~
Love, Lumi 🌱