Heartbreak Hotel | Prologue.

Heartbreak Hotel | prologue.

“Every single day is dreadfully boring when working at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. That is until an enigmatic guest arrives, seeking not a room nor directions, but to hear stories about your past relationships.”

one | two | three | four | five

Genre: anthology, romance, smut Pairing: SEVENTEEN Hip-hop Unit x Reader Warnings: mature themes Notes: 2k words. 1 of 4 parts. Listening to Heartbreak Hotel by Tiffany Young. This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

“This place is the worst,” you muttered for what felt like the hundredth time today, releasing a long sigh. Complaining wouldn’t change anything, but it became a habit—one that had kept you going for the past six months. Every month, you swore you’d quit after getting your paycheck. And yet, here you were, still stuck at this hotel in the middle of nowhere.

No one asked you to take this job. In fact, your friends and family had tried to talk you out of it. But you’d accepted the promotion to concierge after four long years of work, eager for the new title, even if it meant moving away from everything you knew. At first, you thought the distance wouldn’t matter. A month in, you were already regretting it.

If it wasn’t for Elena—the 58-year-old branch manager who’d smugly told you that you’d quit like everyone else—you might’ve walked out weeks ago. But you had your pride, and leaving now would feel like admitting defeat.

Your eyes drifted to the tall grandfather clock in the hall, and you felt a small flicker of relief. Your shift was almost over. Though you didn’t have much to look forward to in your quarters—maybe a movie on your laptop or some mindless scrolling through your phone—anything was better than sitting in the dead silence of the lobby.

Another sigh escaped as you leaned your head into your hand, eyes drifting shut. Just as you started to relax, the sharp sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden counter made you jolt upright.

“Yes!” you stammered, straightening your posture as you met Elena’s stern gaze. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was just… resting.”

Elena’s disapproving sigh said it all. “You’ve got two more hours left in your shift. Get it together. Someone’s coming.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you replied, forcing a smile you didn’t feel.

As if on cue, the front doors swung open, and in walked a man in a sharp navy-blue suit. He glanced around, squinting slightly as he adjusted to the dim lighting of the lobby. The sun had just set, casting the room in shadows. Behind him, the bellboy followed with his luggage.

The man’s gaze fell on you so suddenly it caught you off guard. You quickly straightened up, flashing a polite smile. He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment as he approached the desk.

He placed a hand over the wooden counter, looking not at you but at your nameplate. When his gaze flitted back to you, he said your name with an inquiring tone.

“Yes, that’s me,” you replied, still smiling. “Would you like to book a room for the night, Mr…?”

“Choi Seungcheol,” he finished, his voice smooth but distant. “And no, I’m not here for a room. I’m here to ask how much it would cost to book your services for the evening.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Excuse me?” you managed, the words coming out sharper than you intended. You fought to keep your composure, waiting for him to explain himself.

“I apologize,” he said quickly, holding up a hand in a gesture of peace. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I can see why that sounded inappropriate.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a chance to clarify.

“This might sound unusual, but I’m in need of company for the evening,” he said carefully, as if searching for the right words.

You rolled your eyes, dropping any pretense of politeness. Crossing your arms, you responded coolly, “You’re in the wrong place, sir. We don’t offer that kind of service. But if you drive about half a mile north, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of places that do.”

“It’s not what you think,” he said, his tone steady but firm. He reached into his coat and pulled out a card, sliding it across the counter toward you. “I’m not asking for anything inappropriate. I just need someone to talk to. We wouldn’t be in a room—just here in the lobby, or perhaps the bar, if you prefer. And I’ll pay you by the hour. Just tell me the rate.”

You eyed the card but didn’t pick it up. “Why me? And what exactly do you want to talk about?”

“I’ll explain everything once you accept my offer,” he said, his eyes steady on yours.

“We’re done here,” you told him, pushing the card back to him. He was some CEO of a company you’d heard of but unfamiliar with.

“Fair enough,” Seungcheol replied, pocketing the card and pulling out a different one—this time, a credit card. “I’d like a suite please.”

You took the card, checking him in quietly. After handing him over to the bellboy, he left with a polite nod. “Thank you,” he said, his tone once again reserved, before disappearing down the hall.

The rest of your shift passed in a blur. After clocking out, you went to your quarters for a quick shower and a nap. When you woke, it was 9 p.m., and your stomach growled, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten.

You threw on a sweater and left your quarters, heading toward the employee pantry by the hotel restaurant. You ate with two other staff, talking quietly and laughing at some jokes.

“Here comes Leo!” said one of your coworkers, nodding at the pantry door where the hotel chef just walked in with a tray.

“Anyone in the mood for seafood pasta?” Leo grinned, setting the tray on the table.

“Cooking up the hotel’s stock again, Leo?” you teased lightly.

“Not at all,” he defended with a playful shrug. “A guest ordered some, so I made a little extra.”

You chuckled. “Right. Does Elena know?”

Leo waved his hands in mock horror. “I don’t do this all the time!”

“Relax, Leo. She’s just teasing,” another coworker said, laughing.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” you added, standing to clear your plate. “I’m heading back. Enjoy the pasta.”

“Leaving already? Sure you don’t want some?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied with a wave as you left.

The halls were quiet, as always, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only thing breaking the silence. As you made your way downstairs, you found yourself thinking about Seungcheol. His strange request lingered in your mind, replaying like a bad dream.

Why would a guy like him be asking for company? Doesn’t he have friends?

You shook your head, dismissing the thought. Just another eccentric rich guy who thought money could buy him anything. But even as you told yourself that, the way he'd said it kept bothering you. He hadn’t seemed sleazy or inappropriate. Polite, even. There was something else to it, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

When you reached the lobby, you paused at the sight of Seungcheol sitting on one of the plush armchairs near the large bay windows. He wasn't looking at his phone or a book. Instead, he stared out at the dimly lit hotel grounds, hands folded, deep in thought. His navy blue suit from earlier had been traded for a more relaxed outfit—a simple gray sweater and slacks. He looked different. Less intimidating. Maybe even…lonely?

You frowned, realizing you had slowed your pace to a near stop, watching him from the shadows. Should’ve gone to a therapist, not here, you thought, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

You were half tempted to just ignore him and go on with your night, but something kept you rooted to the spot. What does he even want to talk about that he’d pay a stranger for it?

Your thoughts drifted back to your earlier frustrations—six months stuck in this place, no real connection to anyone, no escape from the monotony. Maybe that was why his request bothered you so much. You had your own share of unspoken things too.

Before you could change your mind, you took a deep breath and approached him. Seungcheol must have sensed your presence because he glanced up just as you stepped into view. His expression shifted slightly—surprise, maybe?—but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to speak first.

“So,” you began, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “About your earlier request…”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, but his posture remained relaxed. “Yes?”

You shifted your weight, hesitating. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but what exactly do you want to talk about? You said it wasn’t anything inappropriate, so mind explaining it to me?”

He studied you for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. Then, with a slight nod, he gestured to the seat across from him. “I understand your hesitation. Please, sit.”

You hesitated for a moment before sitting down, making sure to leave some space between the two of you.

Seungcheol leaned forward slightly, folding his hands together. “It’s really quite simple,” he began, his tone calm and measured. “I need someone to talk to. Not just anyone, but someone who doesn’t know me, who has no preconceptions. I’ve found that… strangers have a way of seeing things differently. Offering perspectives you wouldn’t get from friends or family. I thought you might be that person.”

You frowned, trying to understand. “Why me, though? I’m just some hotel concierge.”

He smiled faintly. “That’s exactly why. You’re just a concierge of a faraway hotel. You’re disconnected from my life, from my world. You don’t have an agenda.”

His explanation made sense, in a way. “And what exactly do you want to talk about?”

Seungcheol paused, his eyes flickering with a hint of something deeper. “Relationships,” he said quietly. “Your past relationships, to be exact.”

You felt your body tense. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

He sighed softly, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately—about life, about love, about the choices we make. I’m not looking for answers, just… perspectives. I thought you might be able to offer that.”

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide if you should just walk away. But something about his sincerity, the way he spoke about it, made you pause. 

“Alright,” you said at last, feeling equally nervous and curious. “I’ll tell you. But I’ve got questions too.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened. “Ask away.”

You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair as you studied him. “What do you get out of this? Why go to all this trouble just to hear about someone else’s love life?”

He smiled slightly, though there was no humor in it. “Let’s just say I’m trying to understand something I can’t quite figure out. And sometimes, the best way to understand yourself is through someone else’s story.”

His words struck a chord with you, though you weren’t entirely sure why. You nodded slowly, still unsure where this conversation would lead but feeling oddly compelled to continue.

“Fine,” you said, exhaling. “I’ll bite. Where do you want me to start?”

Seungcheol leaned forward again, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Start with the one you think about the most.”

You tilted your head a little, thinking. You’d had your fair share of relationships, but when he said that, the first name that came to mind was…

You glanced back at him. What exactly did this guy want to hear? Why were you even considering sharing something so personal with a stranger? Yet there was something about his calm patience, the way he wasn’t pushing—just waiting—that made you want to say more.

“Will I be hearing opinions and judgments from you or are you just gonna sit and listen?” you questioned, suddenly hesitating at the thought of being judged by a stranger.

“Unless you ask for an opinion, I’m just gonna sit and listen.”

You hummed. “Alright then. Do you know someone called Kim Mingyu?” You hadn’t said that name out loud in a long time, but suddenly, there it was, slipping through your lips like it had never left.

Seungcheol shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Good, because he’s the kind of jerk who never knew what he wanted.”

To be continued in [Backburner]

‘ SHIPPED ’ | joshua hong

synopsis : the one where the students of pledis uni are wondering if their two favorite professors are actually dating <3

genre/s : one-shot smau, university au, professors au, pure fluff, gn!reader

from reese, with love <3 face the sun pioneer photos ??? going crazy going feral i- this era is going to break me i can feel it,,, anyways- my brainrot is stronger than ever so i offer u this ,,, thank you for reading, as always id love to know what u think !! going back into academic hell now 🥲 take care, everyone:)

' MOVE FAST, KEEP QUIET ' | y. jeonghan

synopsis : the one where everyone's wondering who has captured the heart of one racing's brightest stars. is it their very own engineer? their teammate? their biggest rival? well, the answer is none of those three. pairing : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader genre/s : smau, racer/f1 au, angst if you squint extra notes. kinda suggestive ? also, yes ik strategist and engineer are two diff roles but for the sake of simplicity they're the same thing now HAHAHA

song rec : taylor swift's i can see you

from reese, with love <3

is this a one-shot..? will it be a series..? i genuinely don't know i just wanted to combine my three personality traits : kpop, tswift, and f1 HAHAHA also my fingers have been itching to write something based on icsy the second i heard it >_< ty for reading ! i would really love to know what you think of this particular one- asks/replies/rbs are much appreciated hehe hope you're all taking care !

And No News | J.Ww

Genre: angst, est relationship

Summary: Wonwoo can't reach you all day and he was worried.

Wonwoo tapped in the passcode and slipped into your apartment. The place was dark, only a sliver of streetlight filtering through the blinds. You weren't home yet. He glanced at his watch—11 pm, and still no sign of you. His jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath his usually calm demeanor. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply before dropping onto the cold, untouched couch.

He fished out his phone from his pocket and stared at the screen. None of his messages had been delivered. Maybe your phone had died, or worse, maybe you turned it off on purpose. He didn’t know, and it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It felt like you were shutting him out, like he was some shadow lurking on the outskirts of your life, some afterthought you remembered only when it was convenient.

Wonwoo knew it was petty to think that way. You were busy; he got it. He had his own responsibilities too. But he always tried to carve out space for you, for this—whatever it was that you two had. Yet it was starting to feel like he was the only one doing any of the carving, the only one bending and compromising until there was nothing left of himself. He hated comparing, but lately, it seemed like he was the only one trying to keep your relationship from crumbling into something unrecognizable.

The sound of the door code beeping startled him from his thoughts. He glanced at his watch again—it was past midnight. An hour had slipped by without him even realizing. He looked up as you stepped in, calling his name softly, like you hadn’t expected him to be there. You noticed him immediately because of the faint glow of the lamp he’d turned on.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice weary as you dropped your bag and keys on the coffee table. Wonwoo watched you silently, his gaze following you as you shuffled toward the bathroom without another word. No explanation, no apology, not even a simple how are you? The door clicked shut, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Of course, you were probably tired. You always were these days. But so was he.

When you finally emerged, fresh-faced and changed into your pajamas, you walked over to him, crossing your arms as if bracing yourself for something.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone neutral, almost distant.

Wonwoo didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning your face, searching for a sign—any sign—that you cared even a fraction as much as he did.

“What time is it?” he asked quietly.

You glanced at the clock and sighed. “Yeah, it’s late.”

“It’s past midnight,” he repeated, his voice tighter this time. “What were you doing out this late?”

You shifted uncomfortably, taking a small step back. “I was working… then I had dinner with a friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed hard, his throat dry. He hadn’t eaten because he’d been waiting, sitting here like some idiot who believed you’d come home in time. But that wasn’t what bothered him. No, it was the way you didn’t even think to inform him, the way you assumed it was okay to leave him hanging.

“I tried texting you all afternoon,” he said slowly, holding up his phone. “But your phone was off.”

You rubbed your face, exhaustion lining your features. “Sorry, I forgot to charge it.”

Wonwoo let out a humorless laugh. “You always say that. It’s not the first time your phone’s died while you’re working, and it’s not the first time I’ve been left wondering where the hell you are.” His voice rose slightly, unable to keep the bitterness out. “I was worried about you all day.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been caught up with a project we need to finish by the weekend. I lost track of time and got distracted.” Your voice was pleading, but it only made the irritation in Wonwoo’s chest flare hotter.

“‘Lost track of time,’ ‘forgot,’ ‘I’m sorry.’” Wonwoo’s eyes blazed as he leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers he was searching for. “Last time, you said sorry too. But you still did it again. Every. Single. Time.”

“I know—” you began, but he cut you off, sitting up abruptly.

“No, you don’t know!” he snapped, startling both of you. “You don’t get it. I’m tired too. I have things to do, responsibilities to take care of, but I’m always here, aren’t I? Waiting for you, making excuses for you, forgiving you before you even apologize—if you even bother to apologize at all.”

“Wonwoo, please—”

“Please, what?” he demanded, his voice breaking a little. He stood up, towering over you, his eyes filled with something raw and painful. “I’m tired of always coming second. Of always being the one who has to understand. You say you’re sorry, but you don’t change. You never change.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his emotions were spiraling. He looked away, jaw clenched. “Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one trying to keep us together. Like I’m… I’m the only one who even cares.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “I’m doing my best. It’s just work—”

“It’s always work,” Wonwoo muttered bitterly. “You know what? I get it. Work is important. I would never ask you to choose. But… would it kill you to make a little more room for me? For us?”

Silence fell between you two, heavy and suffocating. You looked down, your lips pressed into a thin line, and he knew then that whatever he said, however much he begged, it wouldn’t change a thing.

“Forget it,” he muttered, brushing past you and heading for the door. “I should go. You’re probably tired, right? Just get some rest.”

“Wonwoo, wait—” you called, reaching out to him, but he was already halfway out the door.

“Goodnight,” he murmured softly, and before you could respond, the door closed behind him with a quiet thud. And you were left standing there, alone, with the apology you never got to say stuck in your throat.

*

Wonwoo never got mad—really mad. And last night was the first time you’d heard his voice rise like that, cracking through the usually calm and unshakable persona he carried like armor. Sure, you two had argued before. Little things here and there, petty misunderstandings that fizzled out almost as soon as they started. It was always resolved with one of you giving up or simply brushing it aside, pretending it hadn’t happened in the first place.

In the beginning, you were the one who used to pick fights. His calm and quiet demeanor had frustrated you to no end. You couldn’t understand him, couldn’t read him, and the constant absence—both physical and emotional—drove you insane. He was always caught up in his work, giving little time for you two to sit down and have a real, heart-to-heart conversation.

You used to demand updates, craving any tiny piece of information that would give you a sense of closeness. Where was he? Who was he with? Why couldn’t he spare a second to reach out? Wonwoo was a terrible communicator, leaving you grappling to hold onto the loose threads of your relationship. But he had changed for you. Little by little, he’d learned how to make room for you, even if it meant stepping outside of his comfort zone. You’d seen his effort, and that had made you fall for him even harder.

But then things flipped. You were the one who got busy, swept into the whirlwind of your new job at an event organizing company. The endless meetings, sleepless nights, and back-to-back projects consumed your time. You thought he’d understand since he had always been the busy one. Yet as you dove deeper into your career, it was as if you’d unknowingly turned into the very person you used to resent him for being—distant, preoccupied, forgetting to even check in.

Wonwoo’s patience was unraveling thread by thread, the steadiness that had once drawn you to him now cracking under the weight of your absence. It was almost as if he were fighting an unseen rival—your job, your responsibilities—jealous in a way that confused you. Did you like his attention? His sudden need to know your every move, to constantly check up on you? Yes, you did. But you had so much on your plate that you assumed he’d understand, just as you had tried to understand him before.

Now, standing in the cold bathroom light, you were doubled over the sink, the sour bile of your dinner clawing its way up your throat. You retched violently, but nothing came out—only a bitter, acrid taste lingering on your tongue. The pain in your stomach was relentless, searing hot, and spreading like wildfire. You clutched the sink’s edge, trying to steady yourself, but your vision blurred as a wave of dizziness crashed over you.

Your knees buckled, body folding as you slid against the wall and slumped onto the cold tile floor. You tried to take a deep breath, but your lungs felt constricted, and each inhale only made the pain worse. Every nerve screamed in agony, and your entire body felt heavy—like it wasn’t even your own anymore.

Fumbling blindly, you reached for your phone on the bathroom counter. You didn’t know who else to call, who else would drop everything for you at a moment’s notice. Your fingers trembled as you dialed the one number you had on speed dial—Wonwoo’s.

It rang once, then twice, and for a moment, dread crept in. What if he didn’t pick up? What if he was still too upset, too angry with you?

Finally, the line clicked, but instead of the familiar warmth you usually heard in his voice, you were met with a cold, strained tone. “What is it?”

His indifference hurt more than you expected, but you couldn’t dwell on it. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing out the words between ragged breaths. “Can you come…?” Your voice was a weak rasp, barely audible even to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” His tone changed instantly, the sharp edge replaced by alarm. “Where are you?”

You leaned back against the wall, your body sliding further down as your grip on the phone loosened. “I think… food poisoning,” you managed to whisper, feeling the world start to tilt and spin around you. “I think I’m going to pass out…”

“Wait, what?” Wonwoo’s voice grew louder, panic bleeding into each syllable. “Where are you? Are you home?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, struggling to stay conscious. The phone slipped from your grasp and hit the floor with a soft thud. You could faintly hear Wonwoo’s voice calling your name, his words frantic and urgent, but it felt like it was coming from somewhere far away, almost as if you were underwater.

“Hey—stay with me! Can you hear me? I’ll be there in ten, okay? Just hang in there!” His voice cracked, the desperation palpable.

You tried to nod, to say something, anything, but your vision was darkening, the pain in your stomach swelling until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Cold sweat trickled down your face, and you fought to keep your eyes open, to stay awake for just a little longer.

“Wonwoo…” you whispered weakly, but your voice was swallowed up by the crushing silence of the bathroom.

Then everything went black.

*

Wonwoo sat quietly in the waiting room, eyes fixed on the floor as the doctor examined you. The sterile, cold atmosphere of the hospital did nothing to ease the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. The moment he got you to the emergency room, all the anger and frustration from the night before had drained from him, replaced by an overwhelming sense of guilt. This was his fault—he was sure of it. You were lying there, weak and suffering, because he couldn’t understand you, couldn’t meet you halfway.

He was selfish. He knew that much about himself. From the moment he met you, you were everything he had ever wanted—smart, beautiful, independent—but deep down, he feared that he couldn’t be enough for you. He’d always been terrified that his flaws, his shortcomings, would eventually drive you away. But you had changed him. You had shown him how to grow, how to be better, and he wanted to be better—for you.

But last night… last night was different. He lost control. He let his insecurities get the best of him, raising his voice at you for the first time in your entire relationship. It felt wrong, and yet, in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t stop himself. He knew now that you weren’t the only one at fault. You had been caught up in your new job, excited and busy with the demands of a new career—exploring everything you could bring to the table. And more than anything, you were happy. It was written all over your face when you talked about your work, a joy you hadn’t had in your last job.

He should have understood that. After all, he had been in the same position not too long ago. When work consumed him to the point where he couldn't find time for anything else, including you. How could he have forgotten that?

The realization made his chest tighten with regret. He had no right to say half the things he’d said last night. The harsh words, the accusatory tone—they were driven by his own insecurities, not by any real fault of yours. He had projected his fears onto you, punished you for doing the same thing he had once done, and now you were lying in a hospital bed because of it.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see the doctor approaching. “It’s food poisoning,” the doctor said, his voice calm and professional. “She’s been treated, and once she wakes up, she should be fine. It wasn’t anything too serious, but she’ll need some rest.”

Wonwoo exhaled deeply, a rush of relief flooding through him. It wasn’t something worse. You were going to be okay. But still, the weight of guilt sat heavy on his shoulders. He had almost lost you, not just because of the food poisoning, but because of how badly he had handled everything. He realized now that his anger wasn’t truly directed at you—it was at himself, for not being able to keep up, for not being the partner he thought you deserved.

As he waited for you to wake up, Wonwoo made a silent promise to himself: he would fix this. No more insecurities, no more resentment. He would try harder, be more understanding, and give you the space you needed to grow. Because, in the end, all he wanted was for you to be happy—even if it meant stepping aside and letting you thrive.

“Wonwoo...” your voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but it snapped him out of his anxious thoughts. He immediately turned to you, his heart skipping as he saw your eyes flutter open. Without hesitation, he dashed to your bedside, his face softening with relief.

“Do you need anything? Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

You mumbled, “Water...” and he was quick to get some. As he gently helped you sit up, holding the glass to your lips, the sight of you drinking, of you finally awake, allowed the tension in his chest to ease.

“How do you feel? Is your stomach still killing you?” Wonwoo's voice was full of concern, his eyes searching your face for any sign of lingering pain.

You shook your head slowly, “No, I’m fine now.” Your voice was hoarse, but steady. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s just past lunchtime. You’ve been out for about two hours, baby.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I must’ve scared you when I called this morning.”

Wonwoo shook his head, leaning closer to reassure you. “No, don’t worry about that. Honestly, I’m just relieved you called. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you passed out and I didn’t know.” His voice was soft, but there was an underlying fear that hinted at how much the morning had rattled him.

You nodded, the weight of everything from last night pressing against your chest. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be,” he quickly interrupted.

“No,” you insisted, looking him in the eyes, “I’m sorry for last night, and for... all the other times. I made you feel like you were being neglected.”

Wonwoo sighed, lowering his gaze. “It’s not just that. I was being childish. I let my frustration get the better of me. I was wrong, too. I was selfish. I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings that I didn’t stop to think about how hard it must be for you... waiting for me while I was busy all the time.” His voice cracked a little as he finally admitted the guilt he’d been carrying.

You reached for his hand, your touch warm and reassuring. “But still, I shouldn’t have made you feel like I was ignoring you. I wasn’t trying to push you away. It’s just... I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed with work lately, trying to prove myself, trying to manage everything.”

Wonwoo looked at you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know. I get it now. And I don’t want you to take anything I said last night to heart. It was just... I was angry, and I didn’t mean it. I promise.”

You gave him a small smile, one that held both forgiveness and exhaustion. Then, with a playful stretch of your arms, you said, “I want a hug.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him, and without hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, one that seemed to melt away all the lingering tension between you. It felt right—like this was where you both needed to be after everything.

“Let’s get lunch after this,” Wonwoo murmured, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Anything you want.”

Your ears perked up, and you pulled back just enough to look at him with playful curiosity. “Anything I want?”

Wonwoo chuckled again, his smile soft and full of affection. “Yes, anything you want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before whispering, “I love you. I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

As his words sank in, you felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for the first time in days, everything felt at peace.

' NOT ON PRIV ' | boo seungkwan

synopsis : the one where university student council president yn tweets their support for badminton varsity player boo seungkwan <3 genre/s : smau, university au, pure fluff, gn!reader

from reese, with love <3 told u i was gonna do a quick au lmao racket boys!seungkwan i will never forget u :>> thanks for reading, how are we feeling about these quick one-shot smaus- i'd love to hear your feedback hehe hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself ! :D

---

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔥𝔧𝔰 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦

pairing: hong jisoo x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: lee jihoon, choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, lee chan, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 24k

taglist: @reiofsuns2001, @hipsdofangirl, @lovrehani

DISCLAIMER: as some parts of the hwarang series appear in every route, some scenes will appear the same with major to minor differences within the text.

𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 1𝔰𝔱, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The cold, gray sky of winter greets you with its hollow breath as you swing the door to your room open, any heat that has accumulated overnight swiftly dissipating as swaths of blustery air invade the space. From the looks of it, thick, gray clouds have begun to accumulate over the city outside the walls of the Hwarang’s compound, forecasting at least a light blanket of snow in the coming hours. You’d have to make sure that the fires from the kitchen aren’t low so that the ondol keeps warm under the building’s floors. 

Before you move to exit the room, you reach to grab a jacket from your handful of things, sighing as you catch sight of a piece of paper hidden under your coat. It’s the letter that had brought you here in the first place. Nearly two weeks have passed since your arrival at the Hwarang’s headquarters, the same frigidity that had met you on your first meeting is still ingrained into them, the same distrust, no doubt, but it isn’t as if you can leave. 

 A frown as you look down at your clothes after shrugging the jacket onto your shoulders. Instead of your father’s clothes that you’d arrived in, they’d given you robes of their own. Not the blues of their commanders or warriors, but the deep green of their lesser ranks; of the pageboys, cooks, and less desirable positions within their numbers. They were and are foreign to you, you’d much rather wear the clothes that feel more familiar, even if they are men’s. But you aren’t meant to raise suspicion, just keep your head low until they find out more information of your father’s whereabouts. A female hiding out in the Hwarang’s headquarters would raise suspicion, start rumors, and with how much they hold themselves to a gold standard, it would be irreparable to their reputation. 

Jihoon, the Hwarang’s commander, had given you strict instructions to keep up the facade as a male. Saying that, while it would be harmful to their reputation if the word got out, it would also be a beacon for those looking for your father, or perhaps even you. Only those that you’d met on the first day, as well as a handful of others within their leadership, know of your true identity.

As you move your hands away from the hem of your jacket, your fingers brush against the blade that Jihoon had given back to you the day you’d arrived. It’d been somewhat ceremonial in your household, not a thing of use as there was no need for it. Your father had claimed it to be an heirloom kept in the family since the birth of Silla as a kingdom. You aren’t sure of the validity of that statement though, as the metal isn’t tinged with rust, it looks newly forged at times.

Regardless of the validity of the blade, your father made you take several lessons with your town’s local head guard, who’d only taught a girl because her father was a well-known physician. Also, because your father could treat any injury you sustained while practicing, which wasn’t ever needed as any scrapes or scratches you obtained healed fairly quickly. When you were little you didn’t think much of it. Yet as you grew older you realized that you healed faster than most. Your father said it must’ve been a gift from the Heavens but urged you not to tell anyone about it. And you hadn’t, fearing that those around you would treat you like a witch or a monster if they were to find out.

Swordplay was never something you took much interest in, seeing that you’d probably never put the techniques you’d learned to use. Besides, you aren’t a bloodthirsty fiend looking for a chance to use it anyway, you’d rather help people than hurt them. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts for a brief moment as a wang-do, one of the common Hwarang soldiers, passes by your room. They lock eyes with you for a moment, a scowl sneering onto their lips before they break their gaze and continue to stride past. Private rooms were only given to personnel of a higher rank within the Hwarang, and seeing how you are a newcomer, you can somewhat understand the resentment some of them have with your staying not in the typical quarters of those of your rank. 

With more guilt than not as you accept the hospitality of the Hwarang, you try to help out as much as you can, despite the wishes of the commander. To the average wang-do, it probably seems as if you’re receiving special treatment from the captains. Despite the actuality of them keeping watch over you to make sure you wouldn’t spew their secrets; it would be confusing, aggravating even, from an outsider’s perspective. But, even if you were allowed free reign of the headquarters, it’s not as if you could speak to any of them, most were nobles from families of high wealth. And your father isn’t poor by any means, but the wealth disparity between the nobles of the capital and nobles of the countryside is nothing to scoff at. 

So, you remain alone, for the time being, finding that the best way to not draw attention to yourself is to become practically invisible. Maybe if Jihoon allowed you to go out and search for your father you would find yourself more useful, but he’d just left for Hanseong a few days prior. Seeing as the man in charge of your stay here isn’t available, maybe your best bet would be to stay in your room until something of note happened, despite how aggravatingly boring it is. 

The room is practically empty, only a bed, a small chest of drawers and a writing desk to keep you company. It reminds you of when your father would leave for his patient visits, disappearing for days at a time and leaving you alone at home. Although it isn’t the same, those visits had the promise of return. Waiting for someone you knew would come back and waiting for the unknown are vastly different things.

As your reflections manifest into exasperated sighs, you barely notice the sound of approaching footsteps heading towards your room. 

“There you are!” Youngmin, the head of the Hwarang, exclaims once he catches sight of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you; I didn’t think you’d be in here!” He beams at you for a moment before stepping into the room with a tray in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” you apologize as he sets down the tray onto the writing desk nestled into the corner of the room. 

“Ah… wait… This is your room?” He questions as he straightens up, looking around at the interior for a moment. 

“It is,” you nod, wondering what he’s thinking about. 

“Then I just barged into a woman’s room without even announcing myself!” He looks flustered, his cheeks turning a tinge pink as he realizes his mistake and takes a few steps out of the room.

“It’s alright,” you try to assure him, “After all, it’s not like there’s anything here that I wouldn’t want you to see.”

“Hmm,” he sighs, trying to compose himself, “I thought since we’d assigned you to be Jihoon’s page your room would be next to his…” It seems as if Jihoon had neglected to inform Youngmin that you hadn’t actually been made a page. That isn’t in the least bit surprising with how coldly the commander had been treating you. 

“I’m not fully equipped to entertain guests, but you’re welcome to come in if you’d like,” you offer, motioning for him to come back inside the room.

“You don’t need to worry,” he waves his hand as if to brush off the thought, “And, if I may, I’ll take you up on your offer.” Youngmin then steps back into the room, and as if he notices your hesitant demeanor, he speaks up once more, “And please don’t feel nervous around me, as long as you’re here you’re a guest of the Hwarang.”

You offer him a small smile before looking down to the tray he’d carried in. A look of shock comes over your face as you realize what he’d brought, “This is—!”

Youngmin chuckles lightly, “I take it you’re a fan of sweets then? Jihoon’s adoptive mother likes to send them to us every once in a while, and hardly anyone touches them.” Several assorted hangwa lay on the dish, their colors vibrant against the gray gloom of the light shining in from outside, next to a steaming cup of tea. “Go ahead and have some, if you’d like.” 

“Thank you very much,” you nod and make your way over to gingerly pick up one of the confections. You look at the pink treat for a moment before taking a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness of it before turning back to Youngmin, “It’s delicious.” Snacks like this were only limited to holidays or festivals back home, it’s shocking to hear that Jihoon’s mother had sent such a thing on a whim. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he smiles. Something about Youngmin’s presence holds an aura of warmth, that makes you feel more relaxed than you had been with any other member of the Hwarang since your arrival. “Ah, I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to go outside?”

A nod, “That’s right. But if that’s what’s needed for me to stay here, I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble by going out.”

He looks almost sympathetic as he parts his lips once more, “I see… I’m glad you understand. I know that Jihoon can seem a little intimidating at first but he’s a truly caring man.”

To see the man who’d kept you in relative solitude for a few weeks as a caring person didn’t seem fully right… But Youngmin knows him much better than you do.

“He may be a little strict with you, but only because he’s trying to do what’s in your best interest.” Youngmin sighs, a telling sign that maybe he hadn’t agreed with everything Jihoon had done before. “I’ll speak to him once he gets back, I know this must be hellish for you, but I can only ask you to hang in for a bit longer.”

“Alright,” you nod, “Thank you.” Even if Youngmin’s visit hadn’t done much to change your living arrangement, it had lightened your mood ever so slightly. 

After Youngmin had departed and you’d been left to sulk in your room for a while, you notice that the sun was slowly sinking into the sky. The clouds of earlier in the day had parted to let the golden light shine onto the headquarters as the sun made its descent into the horizon. It feels as if time itself has stopped, the sun hanging in the same place for an unimaginably long time.

All this time in solitude is doing a number on both your mental and emotional state. Any hope of getting out of your isolation seems to slip with each passing moment you spend alone. You had come to the capital to find your father, not get swept up into a world where your life lay on the line should you slip up and say something you shouldn’t.

Even if they were showing you more hospitality than you could’ve asked for, you know that you can’t trust the Hwarang completely. 

“They can’t all be that bad… right?” you mutter to yourself as you sit at the small drawing table, flipping through the letters you’d brought with you.

“Has anyone ever called you ‘gullible’, before?” A voice behind you causing you to jump and turn to see who’d spoken. 

Your gaze hardens as you see Boo Seungkwan standing in your doorway, arms crossed with a small frown painted on his lips. “What are you doing here?” Asking as you push yourself to your feet, brushing off your pant legs before facing him fully. 

“You didn’t notice me? It’s my turn to keep watch over you,” he sighs, “You talk to yourself a lot, don’t you?”

Had you really been thinking aloud earlier? You bite your lip and try to mentally remind yourself to never do that again as you’d never know who could be listening in on you here. Before you can retort, Hansol steps in from the hallway.

“I think that’s enough picking on her, Seungkwan.” He frowns at the other.

“Did you hear me too?” You question, somewhat embarrassed about how this was playing out. 

“I only just arrived,” he shakes his head in the negative. “I came to tell you that dinner is ready but,” Hansol’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at you, noticing how incrementally flustered you’re getting, “have I interrupted something?”

“Nothing at all!” You insist, trying to calm yourself.

“I was going to let the two of you continue to speak, but if I had left you two alone, I knew that he’d probably try and get you out of sorts again,” Hansol notes somewhat stoically, probably thinking of the times where he’d been in the exact same situation. His shoulders shrug before the sound of more approaching footsteps reaches you. 

Soonyoung rushes into the room with loud, heavy stomps. His eyes are somewhat frantic, his voice somewhat annoyed as he speaks, “Hey! It’s dinnertime and I’m absolutely starving.” 

“Sorry about that, I’ll be there soon,” Hansol apologizes to the younger.

Soonyoung then looks to you, “You too, hurry up or Junhui’s gonna eat all of the food again.”

“Sorry Captain Kwon, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You say as he begins to turn on his heels to leave before stopping himself.

His lips purse together before he looks back at you, “Look… can you drop the ‘Captain Kwon’ thing? Just call me Soonyoung, everyone else here does.”

“Are you sure about that?” You question with an inquisitive tilt of your head.

“Why not? We’re practically the same age, aren’t we? And we don’t need honorifics either, I’m not one of those uptight nobles.” He frowns slightly.

“Alright then… Soonyoung.” 

“That’s more like it,” he grins, “Now let’s go.”

The walk to the dining area is more familiar than any other route you’d taken thus far during your stay with the Hwarang. Meals are the only time of day that you really are able to leave your room and have company, even if that company was the other captains of the Hwarang.

“You’re lateee,” a whine from Wen Junhui as he sits in front of his meal, the lids still atop the dishes so as to not let the steam out. “Who’s responsible for this? My stomach’s crying and I think my soup’s already gone cold,” he frowns as everyone finishes filing into the hall. 

“You mean ‘growling’,” Soonyoung snickers as he moves to take his seat next to Junhui, you move to sit on the other side of Junhui, next to Mingyu. “Sometimes it’s really easy to tell that you’re not from here.”

“That doesn’t even matter, you should all apologize to my stomach,” the taller’s hands fly to his abdomen as the remaining captains take their seats, “it’s been desperate for food since this morning’s practice routines.”

A small ‘tch’ from Mingyu as he rolls his eyes at the two, “A commoner correcting a noble, I never thought I’d see the day.” There’s a tinge of sarcasm to his voice as he speaks, the tone disappearing as he pipes up once more, “Alright, now that everyone’s here we can eat.”

There’s general chatter amongst the captains as they start to uncover their dishes and begin to dig into their meals. You sit and eat in relative silence until Junhui’s voice begins to raise on your right.

“There’s hardly enough here to feed a kid, let alone a guy like me,” you turn your head and watch his gaze trail down to Soonyoung’s tray to his right, “I guess I’ll have to take yours…” His now empty hands make a grab for the bowl of rice situated atop Soonyoung’s tray. “Survival of the—”

“Survival of the fittest my ass, Junhui,” the other retorts, sticking out his elbow and hitting the other square in the chest. There’s a hollow thud reverberating around Wen’s ribcage, it sounds painful, but he doesn’t look phased at all. But it did stop him from trying to snatch Soonyoung’s meal. “Why’re you always stealing my food?”

Junhui laughs, you hear Mingyu also let out a small chuckle to your left. “It’s because of the size difference, Soonyoung. I’ve got a bigger body; therefore I need more food.” 

“No way, I’ve gotta eat too!” Soonyoung protests, his elbow still locked in place trying to hold the other back. 

“You’d think they’d be more civil around a woman,” Mingyu, at the tailend of his laughter, notes about the two, “but they’re always like this.” 

“I think I’ve gotten used to it by now,” you respond, setting down the cup of tea you’d been drinking before looking at Hansol, who’s gaze seems to have drifted across the room to the bickering pair.

“How we’ve managed so long without them killing one another is beyond me,” he says before eating a spoonful of the soup in front of him. “Are you not eating?” Hansol questions Seungkwan, who sits next to him. The latter sits reclined back in his seat, seemingly watching the entertainment in front of him instead of touching his food.

“I’m alright. If I eat too much in one sitting I get slow.” He nods, reaching for his cup.

“What do you mean ‘slow’?” Junhui pokes, gaze shifting from Soonyoung to Seungkwan for a moment and then down to the food on the older’s plates. “But if you’re not going to eat…”

“Go for it,” Seungkwan scoots the tray forward with his elbow, passing it over to Junhui as his hand is still occupied with his cup. “As long as I’ve got makgeolli, I’m alright.” 

“Sounds like I’m going with makgeolli too,” Mingyu sighs and passes a few plates from his tray onto yours after noticing that most of your food was already eaten.  

“You don’t have to—” you begin to protest before Seungkwan speaks up again.  

“Don’t worry about eating too much or being a freeloader,” he says, a weird bubbling of guilt arising in your stomach. 

“I understand but I can’t help but feel a little bad…” You state as you look down to the newly acquired plates in front of you.  

“If you’re going to let that get to you, you’re never going to get anything you want,” Hansol says pointedly, continuing to eat the mix of soup in front of him.  

“A- alright,” you nod, picking up your utensils again and beginning to pick at the newfound food on your tray. Because you never had much contact with others during the daytime, it makes having dinner with the captains something of an entertaining and frightening experience every night. But it’s fun. A small smile curls onto your lips at the thought of some normalcy for a moment when you hear Mingyu speak again.

“You know we’re not going to hurt you, right?” He’d seen your smile, probably seeing it as you begin to relax, and he seeks to soothe your anxieties about them even more so. His own lips have a soft smile of their own, an honesty brimming with it. Maybe they’d all been trying to put you at ease with their antics.  

It was troublesome to navigate, you have conflicted feelings about staying with them and taking up their time and resources, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. They seemed to realize that too and instead of scorning you for it, were trying to make the best of it.  

But before you could ponder on the notion for much longer, Song Eunseok enters the room.  

“Captains?” He asks somewhat quietly, but the noise of his arrival had turned all heads towards him. “Do you have a moment?” Voice soft as usual, his eyes teem with a quiet anxiety that you hadn’t ever seen during your brief acquaintance with him. The gaiety that had once erupted in the room comes to a fizz as he begins to speak once more, “I’ve just gotten a letter from Sabi, Seungcheol’s been gravely injured during a skirmish.” 

Your brows raise as Seungkwan shouts out, “What the hell happened?!”  

“A group of Baekje revivalists were laying siege to the chancellor’s home, Seungcheol and Jihoon arrived in time to subdue them, however, Seungcheol was injured at some point during the fight.” 

“Is he going to be alright?” You ask, your hands clenching together, nails digging into the skin.  

“According to Jihoon's letter he is gravely hurt, but the wound is on his left arm.” Eunseok’s teeth gnaw at the insides of his cheek for a moment, “It will be hard for him to draw an arrow or wield a blade but it’s almost certain that he will survive this.”   

“That’s good,” a sigh of relief leaving you, but the air lies tense from the other captains as they await more answers regarding their comrade’s status.  

“Seungcheol should be returning in a few days,” Eunseok nods, a solemn tone to his voice, “I’ll go and talk with Kwak some more regarding the situation, if anything else arises I’ll let you know.” He was already halfway out the door by the time he finished speaking, talking over his shoulder in a bated anxiety to rival that of the rest of the room.  

“An injury so bad he can’t hold a bow or sword?” Hansol almost thinks aloud, “He may have severed an artery. He may never carry a blade again if that’s true…” You now begin to understand the severity of the situation, why the air grew heavy and the voices grew low. “If he were to fight one handed against an opponent of similar skill he would almost certainly lose.”  

“... If push comes to shove he’ll have to take it. Seungcheol’s not just going to give up like that,” Seungkwan frowns, the cup in his hand settling down onto the table in front of him with a small clink before his hands fall into his lap.  

“Don’t say that, Boo,” Junhui’s face mirrors an equal grimace to that of the elder’s. “It’ll look bad if captains start joining the Furies.”  

“... Who?” You question, trying to follow their conversation as best you could but finding yourself lost as they begin to speak of things unknown to you. “The Furies?” 

“Furies,” Soonyoung begins, “They come from something you drink where any injury can be cur—” 

“Soonyoung!” Before you know it, Mingyu is on his feet and striding around you to the captain. The elder captain’s hand reaches down and pulls up the younger by the front of his robes.  

“Ah—” Soonyoung’s voice catches in his throat, his eyes go wide as if he’s realized he’d said something that he shouldn’t have. 

“You’re overreacting, Kim.” Junhui stands, trying to pry Mingyu’s irontight grasp away from Soonyoung. “It’s my fault anyway, I said something first.” When Mingyu relinquishes Soonyoung’s green robes from his grip, Junhui shoots the younger a sympathetic look, “Sorry.” 

“I should’ve watched myself,” Soonyoung sighs, his hands moving to straighten his now wrinkled garment.  

Junhui’s gaze then turns to you, his tone becoming sterner, “Everything you just heard is something you should never repeat. I know you’re probably curious, but we can’t say anything else about it, so don’t ask.” The cold weight hiding behind his eyes is enough to make you feel uneasy about what you’d just heard. You’re not even sure what they were talking about, but it seems important enough to stay a secret.  

“Those Furies that Soonyoung was talking about are pitiful men,” Seungkwan states as he pushes himself to his feet. His voice held none of the snideness that it normally had, taking on a flatter and emotionless tone. A sate sort of melancholy coming over him, it’s clear he has something on his mind.  

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” Junhui says to you as he breaks the silence, “So don’t try and get worked up about it.” 

Seeing as you were only a guest of the Hwarang and not an actual member among their ranks, you can understand their secrets. But it doesn’t make you any less curious.  

“Try your best to forget about it,” Hansol warns, not so much to you but to your circumstance, “The more involved you become with our affairs will only put you in more danger.” 

The wall built up between you and the captains was almost tangible at this point, not an easy thing to scale or break through. 

Dinner ended in relative silence, you excused yourself to your room and hurried back to collect your thoughts. You exhale a large sigh as you enter, your mind hopping from the fate of the Hwarang’s colonel to what the Furies were. It reminds you of the rakshasa from the Buddhist texts your father had made you read as a young girl. The phrases ‘something you drink’ and ‘becoming a Fury’ bounce around your skull before you stop yourself. Hansol had asked you to forget, but it feels as if him saying that only makes you want to remember. 

For whatever reason, the Hwarang captains were keeping hush about whatever ordeal was occurring. Was it to protect you? Regardless, sticking your nose into their business would only be detrimental to your stay with them. 

With that in mind you try to clear your head as best you can before slipping into bed and trying to drift off to sleep.  

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 3𝔯𝔡, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s been a little over two months since you’d joined the Hwarang at the headquarters in Seorabeol. Jihoon and Seungcheol had returned from their expedition to Sabi, but morale among the men was low. For a while after their return, due to Seungcheol’s injury, a few operations within the organization became hectic due to his absence. The wounds he’d acquired were grim, draining most of the goodness in his nature before your very eyes. He’d spend days locked away in his room, the silence deafening to those who would venture in and try to speak to him.  

On the rare occasion that he did leave his room, his temper lay short before he’d barricade himself away in his abode once more. The Hwarang had offered to let him return to his family for recovery’s sake, but he insisted that his duty remain with his compatriots, despite his abysmal attitude.  

Even though you too were holed up away inside of your room, the ways in which the two of you coped with the ordeal were vastly different. Seungcheol was trapped within himself, fallen from whatever pedestal he thought was his to a mere memory of what once was. You, on the other hand, were merely looking for ways to help your hosts.  

In doing so, you now find yourself wandering the halls of the Hwarang’s main building looking for Lee Jihoon, who hopefully has an assignment for you to complete. Much in fashion for the commander, he was nowhere to be seen. You debate on whether it would be impolite to go to his room directly when an unknown soldier walks up to you. 

Their face is unfamiliar to you and they aren’t wearing the blue robes associated with the Hwarang on patrol. There is a chance you’d never seen them before, but by the way they are looking at you, you can surmise that that isn’t the case.  

“You… wouldn’t have happened to have seen Commander Lee… would you?” You ask as they approach, their gait long and almost prideful.  

“And who are you?” They question, looking you over with scathing eyes as if to detect your character, “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” 

“Oh well… it’s a long story,” you mumble out, noticing their gaze sharpening on you.  

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Their voice raises, the sternness only growing, “Answer me!” 

Fumbling out your words, you introduce yourself quickly.  

“Hmm,” he ponders, gaze softening ever so slightly, “I heard that the Commander recently acquired an apprentice warrior as a new page, it must be you.”  

“I am,” you respond with faux cocksureness, not realizing that the men had referred to you as an apprentice warrior under the Hwarang.  

“Why don’t you enlighten me on how you came to know the Chief and Commander?” The man’s scrutinizing gaze continues as you straighten your posture, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I heard you’re from Toehwa-hyeon, but how were you able to squeeze your way in here?” 

“I didn’t ‘squeeze my way in here’,” you retort, not liking how this man was addressing you. 

“Judging by how defensive you’re being, it sounds as if I’ve gotten it right.” He almost scoffs at you in disbelief, “This isn’t some place for a common boy without any worth in his duties or on the battlefield to walk in without earning it. I’ll ask you one last time: how did you come to know the Chief and Commander?”  

You stay silent, unsure of how to address him or what answer would be the right one. Yet, before you can begin to formulate a response, he steps forward and grabs the sleeve of your robes, “I, Suh Kangjoon, am asking you a question.” With the way he states his own name, it’s as if he’s trying to signal himself as someone of importance, but you’d never heard the other captains speak of him before. “What makes you think you can ignore me?” Rather than have a calm air as he asked, his tone had almost shifted to that of a petulant child.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice barks off to the side, coming from one of the hall’s entranceways. Both Kangjoon and you turn to see Jihoon standing in the doorway, an almost scowl painting his lips as he watches the scene before him. Once Kangjoon had realized it was him, his hand falls away from clutching at your robes and returns to his side.  

“Very well, Commander,” he wets his lips as Jihoon approaches before clearing his throat and speaking once again. “I’m here on business with Gukseon Kwak.” 

“Is that right?” Jihoon’s voice is tipped with a poisonous edge, as if he didn’t fully trust the character in front of you. “He failed to mention that to me.” 

“He wrote to me with special orders to aid him while Colonel Choi is out of commission,” he begins, “I have the letter if you’d like to read it.” 

“That’s quite alright,” Jihoon waves him off, “but I think it’d be in your interest to know that Kwak is out on training runs with Kwon’s squadron today.” 

“Then I suppose I’ll have to come back at a later date,” the air of faux civility between the two was nearly palpable, Jihoon doing nothing to hide his distaste whereas Kangjoon only looked at him snidely. The newcomer begins to turn on his heels, heading for the exit before his pace slows and leaves the two of you with a few words, “Is it true that you’ve welcomed him as your page, Commander?” 

“Yes,” Jihoon nods, glancing at you for a moment before returning to look at the other, “but it’s no concern to you.” 

A flash of an uncaring smile, “Forgive me, then. I’ll try not to ask more as it seems to be out of my jurisdiction.” Another step before he stills, “I do, however, question your predisposition toward keeping those from higher ranks close to you,” his eyes widen in faux surprise, “Ah, it seems I’ve forgotten myself, please excuse me.”  

Once the stranger has exited the building, only then do you feel a sigh of relief overcome you. But before you have the chance to dwell on it for too long, Jihoon speaks up. 

“You shouldn’t be walking around the headquarters without my permission, you know.” 

“I understand, Commander, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you begin to apologize. 

“Your presence here isn’t known by the other factions of the Hwarang, only those staying here at Shoshin,” He explains, “be mindful of anyone that isn’t a Hwarang from this sect, understood?” 

“Understood,” you nod. “But can I ask who that man was?” 

“That man is a captain of the Hanseong Hwarang. His name is Suh Kangjoon.” Jihoon looks as if he’s wracking his brain for an adequate description of the man, “His archery and swordsmanship are decent, but he’s well read and has a knack for military tactics.” His voice lowers a bit for his next statement. “He’s cunning, so be careful.” 

“Okay.” 

“Regardless of that,” his voice back to a decent volume as his gaze hardens at you, “if you’re not attending to someone then I fully expect you to stay put in your room.” With that, you suppose, he meant to dismiss you back to your quarters as any strict commander should and would have done. 

A wordless nod, understanding that asking any more of him would cause his mood to sour even more so after his meeting with Suh Kangjoon. Jihoon turns on his heels the same time as you, drifting away towards his room on the opposite end of the compound while you shuffle back to yours. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The air thick with humidity sweeping in from the coast, the entirety of the Kingdom of Silla lies in mourning after the death of the posthumously named King Taejong Muyeol. With the lauded last year's effort of him uniting both Silla and Baekje, the former kingdom to the west of Silla, hanging over the heads of every citizen, his death felt like a sharp blow to all. For the first few days of the month, the Hwarang had traveled to Banweolseong, the King’s palace, to pay their respects to the fallen monarch, leaving you alone with only Eunseok as company.   

Once the Hwarang had steadily returned to the compounds, an air of normalcy once again began to hang over the inhabitants and the buildings themselves. Yet, midway through the month, Emperor Gaozong of the Tang dynasty called in aid from Silla to attack the kingdom of Gogoryeo. The kingdom resides to the north, and the Tang emperor wished to pincer it from both sides so that it would fall under either Tang or Silla rule. 

Whereas this may have been the wishes of Taejong Muyeol, the new king, Munmu, found issue in sending out an army so close to the prior monarch’s death. Yet, as an almost tributary state to the Tang, Silla was forced to comply by sending soldiers to the front. No members of the Hwarang were called, as they were to remain in their cities and keep patrol when the officers that normally stood guard could not.  

It’s a cooler day of the beginning of summer, you’d just come back to your room with your laundry when Hansol appears at your door. He stands there for a moment, allowing you to put down the basket of clothes in your hands before speaking, “Commander Lee would like a word with you.” 

A wordless nod and you begin to follow him. Hansol leads you to the main hall, only stopping at the entranceway and gesturing you inside, you step into the room and hear Hansol go in behind you, closing the door after he enters. Looking around, you spot Jihoon, Seungkwan, Mingyu, Junhui and Soonyoung standing around the hall. It seems as if only the captains and you had been summoned for this meeting.  

“I know you’ve been waiting for this, but the time has come to finally let you out,” Jihoon says once everyone’s settled into a comfortable silence.  

Your lips part and you can barely contain the gasp forming in the back of your throat, “Really?” Unable to contain your excitement, you try to compose yourself before speaking again. “So, there really was someone who saw my father in Hwango-dong?” You question, only hearing rumors of someone who’d seen a man with your father’s profile in one of the city’s districts. 

“We’re not sure if it’s true or not,” Jihoon cedes as he nods his head, “It’s our intention to let you verify for us. Considering that you’d recognize him the best out of everyone here.” 

“So, where is this man who said he saw him?”  

“The initial report outlines Jeolin Inn in Hwango-dong, Hansol’s assigned to do a preliminary check.” Both your and his attention turn to the man Jihoon had named. Did this mean that you were to accompany him to check or were you to wait here until after he’d swept the area? 

“That doesn’t mean that Heo is a guest of the inn though,” Kim chimes in. 

“Yeah,” Junhui agrees, “Being sighted in Hwango-dong could just mean he was walking around Seorabeol.”  

“Exactly,” Jihoon sighs, crossing his arms and looking at Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu, “That’s why I’m asking the three of you to take her out on your rounds to assist her in her search.” 

“All of us?” Soonyoung’s head tilts in confusion, “We normally split up and go our separate ways on our rounds.” 

Rather than entertaining Soonyoung with a response, Jihoon looks back to you. It was a quiet way to say that they were still in charge of looking over you, needing to make sure you wouldn’t try and make a break for it should they take you out in search for your father. 

“We get what you’re trying to say, Jihoon,” Seungkwan notes, “but I don’t like that you’re making us do all of the babysitting. I thought you were planning on patrolling as well?” The teasing lilt to his voice returns, “So, for your benefit, why don’t you show your adorable page the ropes by taking her out with you?” 

“Aren’t you the one who pushed her onto me?” Jihoon scoffs, “I’m not taking any of your shit today, Li. She isn’t my page.” 

“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t, but a lot of the wang-do are beginning to believe it.” Seungkwan notes, crossing his own arms. “There’s always a grain of truth in every lie, so why don’t you give her a job already?” 

As the two continue their stalemating conversation, Mingyu moves to your side and whispers something to you, “Seorabeol isn’t the safest place right now, as you know, so you don’t have to force yourself to leave. I mean we all know what your dad looks like, so it’s not just your risk alone to bear.” 

  It seems like you could either explore where your father had last been seen, patrol the surrounding area, accompany Jihoon as his page, or stay here, from what Mingyu had suggested.  

“I think I should stay behind today,” after a moment of thinking, you come to the conclusion. There was no assurance that your father is out on the streets of Seorabeol still, and the looming threat of danger still hangs over the city. 

“What?!” Soonyoung frowns, “But what about your father?” 

“I have to understand my place here too, though… We don’t even know if he’s there anymore,” you give him a small smile and nod, “I’m sure more chances will come.” 

“If you say so,” he sounds a bit jilted, “But if you’ve already made up your mind there’s no convincing you…” 

After that, the men deliberate their plans before heading off to their respective destinations and you return to your room. The thought of not going eats away at you, maybe it would’ve been better to take the risk and venture out… 

“If you’re going to regret it that much, you should’ve gone with them.” 

The voice behind you startles you from your thoughts, you swivel on your heels to greet who’d interrupted your thinking, “Seungkwan… I’m not regretting it.” Yet, you are, so much so that you can’t bear to look into his eyes. But he smiles wryly, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Not at all?” He asks with a grin, “Not even if you knew Hansol and I went out of our way to convince Jihoon?” 

“You what…?” The revelation sucks the air from your lungs, not expecting him to say that at all. Had you wasted their kindness? “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize—” 

“Ah, well, it was actually Hansol that convinced him. I just stood behind him and nodded lightly.” 

“Even so,” you say as you look at him, “I’m sorry… I’ll apologize to Hansol later— Should there be another opportunity, please give me another chance to join you.” 

Seungkwan hesitates for a moment before responding, his eyes focusing deeply on yours, “You may be able to accompany us, but you’d better keep that blade sheathed. We don’t need any recklessness holding us back.” His eyes are serious but his smile remains bright, “If there’s any sign of you becoming an issue, I won’t hesitate to put my blade through you.” 

“I understand,” you say, nodding plaintively. 

The Hwarang says nothing more as he removes his hand from you, turning on his heels and making his way out of the main hall.

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 7𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Kwon Soonyoung and Boo Seungkwan stand in the great hall as you enter. The past few weeks had given you no information on the whereabouts of your father, despite you going on patrolling rounds with the different Hwarang captains. You assume the information, or lack of, was the reason for your summoning today by Lee Jihoon. Although the presence of the other two Hwarang captains make you feel somewhat more relieved, you wouldn’t have to face the Demon commander alone. 

“You asked to see me?”  There is a sour look on Jihoon’s face as you ask, something clearly eating away at him. 

“It’s about your father,” he begins, and you perk up for a moment. Jihoon’s frown stays on his face as he looks at you, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you can already tell you won’t like what he says. “I think it’s best we stop searching for him for the time being.” 

“Why?” You can hardly stop yourself from blurting out the question. You’d only been able to search for him for what felt like a handful of weeks, if you were to stop now there was a major possibility you could lose any leads you have. 

Jihoon remains collected, his arms crossing as he speaks again, “We have reports of activity from Baekje loyalists. It would be more than foolish to let you wander the streets in search of your father at a time like this.” 

“Then, are you asking me to stay here until things are resolved with the loyalists?” You question with a tilt of your head, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice. 

The commander nods before turning to Soonyoung and Seungkwan, “That being said, as for now she isn’t to accompany any captain on their rounds.” 

“So that’s why you pulled us in here?” The question is more like a musing as it falls from Soonyoung. It seems like he too hadn’t known why he was called here and it was now beginning to click. “You know, she’s never caused any issues when we took her on our rounds… I feel kind of bad now that she can’t tag along.” 

“Mhm,” Seungkwan nods, “even if something were to happen, as long as she’s not hopping into the fray it should be alright. Besides,” he smirks at you, “it’s not like she could outrun us if she tries to escape.” 

“I won’t run,” you protest firmly, knowing that he was fully joking. Eyes lingering on Seungkwan for a moment before you look back to Jihoon, “I made a promise when I agreed to stay here. I promised I’d look for my father, I can’t hold myself to that if you won’t let me.” 

“Staying with us is putting yourself at risk,” Seungkwan shrugs in your periphery, “if you don’t mind that, I don’t mind you joining us.” His gaze travels to Jihoon, his lips parting, “We’ve had witness reports, I don’t see why we should stop looking when we still have information coming in.” 

“You might have a point, Boo. But are witness reports a justifiable reason to put her in harm’s way?” The commander rebukes, his hands falling to his sides. “By taking her out with us, we’re placing an unnecessary burden on our shoulders.” 

“If I lose the opportunity to search for my father,” fists clenching at your sides, your nails digging into the skin of your palms, “then any future chances of finding him will be nearly impossible.” 

Jihoon looks at you, eyes searching yours, his gaze hardening. You think he’s about to refute you, before he starts speaking again. “You need to follow the orders of every captain you’re on patrol with. No sidetracking them. Am I clear?” 

“Yes,” you nod, “of course.” Unsure of how to show your gratitude, you bow towards him. 

“I’m not going to be the one ordering you to join them,” the commander huffs as you rise, “that’s up to your discretion.” 

It feels like no time at all before you reach the city’s streets accompanying Seungkwan on his rounds. 

“It feels like there’s more people here than usual…” You note as you walk, having to move to the side several times to let flocks of people pass by as the street lay cramped. 

“Mind yourself,” Seungkwan notes, pulling you to the side, out of the way of a passing cart. “Try not to wander off or something. Remember that you’re here to keep me company on my rounds.” 

“Sorry I was just distracted by everyone!” You say, brushing off the dust on your pants, “The city’s much livelier now.” 

His eyes twinkle and he smiles voraciously; you can sense him relax. “Well, there’s a summer festival happening soon, things are busier, I’ll give you that.” His smile wanes just a bit, “Of course, some of those loyalists are acting pretty strange too. What I’m saying is, watch yourself, alright?” 

As you walk down the street with his division, no one comes within a few yards of you; they step away as soon as their eyes catch sight of the blues. You’d noticed this phenomenon briefly when you’d first joined the Hwarang on their rounds, but it seems clear that the people of Seorabeol hold some sort of respect for these men. 

You stop every so often to ask some of the less intimidated passersby if they’d seen your father. Yet, after a few hours of searching, you finally meet someone who claims to have seen a man matching your description.

“Oh, yeah… I think I might’ve seen that guy a while back, over at Joon’s.” As he speaks, he points toward a store selling inkstones and brushes.

“Thank you!” You say as Seungkwan catches your eye, giving you a stern look. It almost looks as if he’s going to scold you when— 

“You there! Are you from the Kang household?!” The cry comes from a Hwarang, and Seungkwan turns from you, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Your household is currently under investigation by order of the Crown.” 

“Well shit…” Seungkwan sighs out, reaching for his sword as he looks at the men in question. “I guess they would choose the worst possible time to stir up trouble.” 

Like leaves scattering in a storm, the townspeople move out of Seungkwan’s way as he moves towards the commotion. For a moment you panic in the mass of fleeing citizens, but perhaps realize it’s best. If you stay too close, you may distract Seungkwan from his duties. 

You duck off into a nearby alley to watch, planning to return to the men once the tension simmers. 

“Hey kid,” a gravelly voice of an elder shopkeeper cries out, “Come over here, you don’t want to get caught up in that.” 

Time and time you’d been told to be wary of strangers while with the Hwarang, and you’re about to politely refuse his gesture when you realize that his shop is the one that the civilian had pointed out to you just moments earlier. 

“Excuse me, but is this Joon’s?” 

“Yes,” the man nods, “It is.” 

“Great!” You cry out, only before being interrupted by another shop employee. 

“Kang! This guy was just with the Hwarang!”

“What?!” The elder says, his eyebrows raising. 

“Huh? I’m not a member of the Hwarang.” You push, but the elder already seems to be backing up into his shop, obviously disinterested in helping you now. “No—it’s not like that! I’m just looking for someone!” Even if you’d just been walking with them, their reaction seems a bit excessive. 

A laugh behind you and you see Seungkwan standing there with his arms crossed, “You really have the shittiest luck, don’t you? Still, I guess you could say the same about them, or me.” He gives a small, unconcerned shrug before reaching for his blade and barreling his way through the door of the shop. 

Joon’s explodes with the clang of blades, men swearing and scrambling. 

When you return to the Hwarang headquarters, Seungcheol has a number of… less than pleasant words to say. Seungkwan and you kneel for quite some time as the colonel berates you before the other speaks up. 

“You don’t need to lose your head over it Seungcheol,” Seungkwan sighs, “After all, we arrested a couple of loyalists.”  

After the fighting was finished, you’d discovered a massive arms cache, as well as plans for a new meeting for the loyalists. No one had bothered to explain to you what had been going on, however, and you’d been completely lost. 

“Not something to lose my head over?” Seungcheol frowns, “My head is right where it belongs. Perhaps you should inquire after yours. The man claiming to be Joon Hyunjin was, in truth, Kang Kwanghyeon, a loyalist spy. You were aware that the Hwarang were allowing him to operate in hopes of gathering enemy intel?” 

“Yes,” Seungkwan nods, rising to his feet as Mingyu walks into the hall, “but we didn’t have a choice this time. I had to bring him in.” 

“Well at least it wasn’t a total bust,” Mingyu adds, “Like Seungkwan said, they did arrest some guys.” 

“But don’t you feel bad for Wonwoo and Chan?” Soonyoung asks, trailing behind Mingyu. Had they been outside the doors this whole time? “They were staking out the place to keep an eye on Kwanghyeon.” 

The corners of Soonyoung’s mouth twitch into a smile, but Wonwoo interrupts him to continue. “We appreciate your concern, Soonyoung, but nobody needs to lose any sleep on our account. We hadn’t been getting anywhere with him the last few days, Seungkwan did us a favor.” 

Chan nods in silent agreement. “His arrest is over and done, you won’t hear any complaints from us about it, though.” 

“You’re the definition of stoic and reasonable,” Junhui sighs out, crossing his arms, “Seungkwan on the other hand…” It doesn’t seem as if he’s going to let Seungkwan get away without rubbing his mistake in his face. 

“It’s all my fault,” you say, “Some loyalists were causing trouble, so I tried to get out of the way… I was going to go back to Seungkwan after it settled but the crowds pushed me too far away.” 

“But who was tasked with looking after you?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes glaring at you, expression hard and angry. “A captain of the Hwarang can’t even track a charge. Is this the best we can do?” When you’d first met Seungcheol, he’d been nice, if anything a little quiet. After his injury, however… It was as if he’d become an entirely different person. 

“I told her she could go.” Jihoon says as he walks into the hall, “They were only following orders.”

Seungcheol’s eyes trail him as he moves to stand at the head of the room. He gives the commander a tight, wry smile, but only receives a peaceful, impartial glance in return. 

“If you’re here, then that means you’re done interrogating Kwanghyeon, right?” Mingyu asks expectantly. 

“They’re going to wait for a day when the wind picks up, then set Seorabeol on fire and kidnap the King while everyone else is losing their shit.” Jihoon answers, “So they say, at least.” His voice is calm and measured, but you can all feel the import of his words. 

“Burn down the city?” Junhui scoffs, “Those loyalists are crazier than I thought.” 

“Whatever their reasons, we cannot ignore them,” Hansol says plainly. 

“They’re probably meeting tonight to scramble together a plan without Kwanghyeon in it.” Jihoon says, “We need to get ready to move out.” 

“Understood,” Hansol nods. 

“Finally,” Junhui says as he stretches, several pops coming from his back, “I’m getting chills.” 

Even though each man displays their professionalism differently, they are all clearly prepared. As they quiet down, Jihoon turns towards you, as if he’d only just noticed you’re standing there. 

“We did get some information on Heo, apparently he visited Joon’s with some men from the west.” 

“What?” 

“So, the rumors that he was seen in Seorabeol were true, but that’s all there is to it.” 

There are so many questions running through your head that you want to ask but you know that no one here has an answer for them.

Preparations for the raid begin immediately after the captains are all gathered in the main hall. There was even more commotion by the time dinner rolled around. The halls now darkened save for the braziers and candles that light the entrances and walls. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.

 It still affects you all the same. Your encounter at Joon’s created some of their current headache, and you hope to make up for it. Yet, any offer of assistance now is rebuked, it became quite clear that you have very little to offer when it comes to preparing for a raid. At the end of it, you stick to the wall, standing there quietly to avoid being a burden.

“Youngmin has only twelve men ready to fight,” Hansol murmurs to Mingyu. 

“And Jihoon and I have twenty-four a piece, everyone’s sick!” Mingyu says exasperatedly. There had been a swift food poisoning epidemic earlier in the week leaving many men bedridden. It’s like they’re now divided in half. Youngmin would lead a group of a dozen men to Wonweol Inn and Jihoon would lead twenty-three to Jeolin Inn on opposite ends of the city. “Do you think we’ll bring ‘em along tonight?” Mingyu asks, “It’d be perfect…” 

Them?

“I heard they won’t see combat for a while. They’re having… difficulty adjusting.” Hansol frowns. “They stop listening to orders as soon as they see blood. It’s rather inconvenient.”

The topic confuses you, yet you feel as if you’d heard something similar a while ago. Both of the captains hadn’t realized that you’re listening to their conversation. But it’s crucial that you don’t speak up. 

“They’ve gotta be spinning in their graves… Didn’t they choose to do this so they could fight?” 

“Mingyu… You can only say that after someone’s actually dead.”

“I guess you’re right,” the younger of the two captains sighs out, “They aren’t really dead, are they? They’re actually harder to kill now…” 

Now you really know you’re not supposed to be listening to this. To remove yourself from the area, you quickly begin to walk outside of the main hall, but as you open the door, you nearly run into another figure. 

“Huh? What’re you doing here?” Youngmin says as he holds his arms out to steady you as you brake in front of him.

“Oh… I… I couldn’t just sit there…” You explain to him how you feel useless in this situation, that you’d left your room to try and help but found nothing you could do. 

“Of course,” he smiles, trying to comfort you, “I know how you feel! The men are pretty excited, aren’t they?” 

“Yes,” you nod, not knowing if excited was the best term for him to use. Bloodthirsty may have been better. 

“Would you care to join us?” He asks simply. 

“What?!” You sputter out, not expecting him to say that. “You mean go on a raid with you? I don’t think that I could—”

“You see, many of my men are out with food poisoning, so we’re a bit understaffed. We could certainly use a messenger, but if you’d rather not, there’s no need to feel obligated.”

“Well, alright,” you nod, remembering that Youngmin’s group had lost the most men due to the sickness, “if I’ll just be a messenger, it should be okay.” 

His face splits into a grin and you find yourself on the way to Wonweol Inn to accompany their raid.

After you arrived at Wonweol, you were sent off on several short errands nearby. When you return, you hear Junhui talking to Seungkwan. 

“Looks like we’ve hit the jackpot on this one. Not sure if they’re brave, or stupid, for meeting right next to a government building.” Junhui says, glancing at the building next to the Inn.

“I knew they’d be here,” Seungkwan sighs, “After all, they’ve had a record of meeting at Wonweol.”

“Sure,” Junhui says, crossing his arms, “but the night Kwanghyeon gets arrested? That just seems sloppy to me. Aren’t they afraid of looking suspicious?” 

“Well obviously they’re somewhat less than normal,” Seungkwan quips, “They are meeting at Wonweol, aren’t they?” 

Their conversation is somewhat lighthearted, which doesn’t quite match the subject matter. As you approach, Soonyoung notices you and jogs over. 

“How’d it go?” He questions, “Did you see anyone from the Guard?”

 You shake your head before answering, “To be honest, I didn’t really see anyone nearby.”

“So, they still haven’t made their move? We told them that we’d be here before dark…” 

“Calm down, Soonyoung,” Junhui says as he walks over, lightly slapping the other on the back, “It won’t do us any good if they show up anyway. If this is gonna happen, we’ve gotta do it ourselves.” 

“I guess… It’s just that running in on our own seems a little reckless?” Soonyoung frowns, and Kangjoon, who’s on standby behind Soonyoung, nods in agreement.

“It is reckless.” He asserts, “We should wait for the Guard’s reinforcements.”

“If you believe that’s the best course of action,” Youngmin cedes, “Then why don’t we wait a little longer.”

Yet, no matter how long you wait, the officials still haven’t made it. 

You find yourself looking up at the sky. The moon inching further across the scape the longer you stay in the recesses of Wonweol.

“It’s getting late…” Junhui murmurs.

“What do you want to do, Chief?” Seungkwan asks Youngmin, “It’d be pretty shitty if we just sat here all night.” 

Youngmin had been quiet all this time, yet when Seungkwan spoke to him, he stood up, ready to address his men.

“We can’t wait a moment longer. Seungkwan, Junhui, Soonyoung: you all, follow me.” 

Seungkwan nods quietly but firmly as Kangjoon speaks up, “I will secure the front entrance so you guys can have at it.” 

“Aren’t you coming?” Soonyoung questions, surprised. 

“It’s all good,” Seungkwan quips, “I mean, we don’t want him in the dark and then mistakenly stabbing us you know? Oh, actually… We may mistakenly stab him.” 

“What are you suggesting, Seungkwan?” Kangjoon frowns as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. 

“Now, now.” Junhui intervenes, “If you want someone charging, we want someone reliable anyways. So, with that said, take care of the outside, Kangjoon.” 

“Can you stay away from the Inn?” Youngmin turns as he asks you, “Things are going to get dangerous. That place is full of rebel soldiers. We don’t intend to allow them to escape, but… better safe than sorry.” 

“Alright,” you say as he smiles at you, motioning for the men to join him in rushing the inn. 

The battle begins in earnest. The yells of men and the clang of swords fills the air soon after the Hwarang make their way inside, the sounds roll out of the doors and windows of the inn. 

You can hear feet pounding up the stairs, the screams of men dying and the wet thud of bodies dropping to the floor. 

“Damn it!” You hear Junhui shout out, “There’s too many of them! We need backup! Is there anyone outside?!” 

There had been moments prior, but all of the men who’d come with the captains had run around back and couldn’t hear Junhui call out. Kangjoon, on the other hand, is stationed outside, arresting any man attempting to flee the building. 

Is the only person left to really help you? Your thoughts interrupted when Youngmin yells out—

“Seungkwan! Are you alright?!”

 “Damn it Soonyoung! Don’t die on me!” Junhui calls out from somewhere else inside the building.

You have no desire to enter a slaughterhouse, with men killing and maiming one another. Even if you do, you have no illusions about your skill with a blade. You’re sure to be killed before you even draw it. 

Perhaps though, instead of fighting, you can rescue the wounded and pull them from the inn. This is how you find yourself drawn closer to the fray, only running inside when you hear Junhui yell out once again. 

Inside, it’s pitch black. The smell of blood hits your stomach like a fist. Black masses lay crumpled on the floor; the bodies of dead or dying men. Where are Seungkwan and Soonyoung? 

Entering the building had seemed a good idea on the outside, but now that you look around the charnel house, you realize that there is no way you can carry two men outside. 

With the fighting going on, and in the darkness too, you’d only be an impediment to the Hwarang should you choose to stumble around blindly in the dark— Looking around the inn, you cannot see a singular face that you recognize. It’s not until an unfamiliar face shouts out at you and raises their blade, do you fully realize the severity of your situation. 

Yet, before the blade meets your flesh, another sword juts out and parries it away from you. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Junhui shouts out to the revivalist, “You’re fighting me!” The Hwarang swings again and ends up burying his sword deep into the man’s stomach. 

Eyes trained on the blood pouring from the wound and now the man’s mouth, you can’t find it within yourself to look away.

“Would you mind checking upstairs?” Junhui asks quickly, his eyes trained on a few more men stumbling into the main room, “No one’ll get past me. I promise!” With that, he pushes past you and heads towards the group of men, your eyes focusing on the bright crimson trailing down his hand from a cut he’d received earlier. “Get going!” He calls out as his blade crashes against another’s.

And so, you do, quickly slipping by the throng of fighting bodies as you travel quickly up the staircase, your feet thudding along the wood. 

The scent of blood has traveled upstairs too, stinging your nose with its metallic tang as you look around the hall. Without another thought, you open the nearest door and run into the room. It seems like this darkened corner of the inn hasn’t been tainted with bloodshed yet, the interior clean and tidy. 

“Pray tell, why are you here?” A voice calls out from the dark and you realize you aren’t alone. At the open window, someone stares off into the darkness, the breeze of the night carrying his voice to you.

He wears no uniform belonging to either the revivalists or the Hwarang, just pale-yellow robes embroidered with a flower you can’t make out in the dark. 

Even as you stand shocked, you have a plethora of questions; Why is he here? What is he doing? Who is he? 

It seems like he hasn’t partaken in the battle, only looking to the streets coated in moonlight as the fighting wages downstairs. He seems calm, almost serene in the way he stands and throws a look back to you. 

“Who are you?” You find yourself asking as his reddened eyes pierce into yours. 

“Are you the one asking questions now?” A small smile dances along his lips as he only replies with a question himself. “Worry about where you are more than you’re worried about me.” 

His words snap you from the tranquility of the moment. Right, he’s an enemy, isn’t he? Instinctively, your hand reaches for the blade at your hip, his brow raising at your movement. 

“Planning on joining the fight?” As his gaze lingers on the steel, his eyes widen, “Wait, is that—?” The man now stands facing you directly, taking a step towards you as his eyes remain fixated on the blade. 

Just then, the door to the room flies open and a bloodied warrior saunters in, looking frantically to the stranger, “Hey, the Hwarang raided—” His report stops when he lays eyes on you, “Who the hell are you?!” Without hesitation, he reaches for his blade after not recognizing you as one of his own, and begins to swing at you. Although, before his blade can reach your head, a loud shout comes from the first man you’d encountered. 

“Quiet!” Almost in a blink of an eye, he’d unsheathed his own sword and charged at the already bloodied man, downing him with a singular strike. Once the man falls to the floor, the closer of the two looks to you, “Didn’t I tell you? You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Why did you…” Your eyes still focused on the man who lays dead or dying at your feet, “Isn’t he your ally?” 

“If he were an ally, I wouldn’t have cut him loose.” His self-possession quiets you as he sheathes his sword.

It’s obvious that he isn’t a member of the Hwarang. You don’t know his purpose here either. 

Above anything, his gaze captures yours, enamoring your senses as if he were the only thing that matters right now. His eyes draw you into a lucid hypnosis, filling you with doubt about if he is a threat to you at all.

“…Thank you,” you’re able to say once you regain a bit of composure. 

A smirk crawls to the corner of his mouth, “Looks like you have some manners despite staying by the Hwarang’s side.” He’s mocking the men that had taken you in, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to argue against what he’s saying. 

“Why did you save me?” Questioning as his gaze falls to the blade at your hip. 

“Does that belong to you?” Ignoring your question, he imposes his own. His eyes glimmer almost burgundy from the silver light of the moon refracting into the room. 

“It does…” your hand now hovers near the blade as he lets out a soft laugh. 

“Then you can thank your blade.” Before you can ask him why, he turns but not before giving you a sly wink. “My business here is done. You can do whatever you want.” He takes his time walking towards the open window, jumping through it without any hesitation or final words. 

Your feet carry you to the window, but there isn’t any sign of the stranger. No footprints, no up kick of dirt—nothing. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t aligned with either side here tonight, so then why had he been at the inn? 

Standing there dumbfounded, you sense a presence entering the room behind you quietly. A prickle on the back of your neck and you slowly wrap your hand around your blade. 

“Are you alright?” The voice of Lee Chan startles you and you spin on your feet. You look at him with a puzzled expression, hadn’t he gone to Jeolin with Jihoon? It’s then your shoulders let go of their tension for a moment, reinforcements had arrived. 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 2𝔫𝔡, 661 - 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Ever since the raids on both Wonweol and Jeolin Inn, the Hwarang had become stricter on their rounds around Seorabeol, looking for and capturing any of the Baekje revivalists that had escaped that night. Rumors had begun to plague the streets that the loyalists were looking for revenge on those who tried to stop their rebellion. On top of that, the Hwarang were under harsh scrutiny of their opposers in the Crown’s court, despite them having stopped a meeting that was calling for the kidnapping of Silla’s monarch. 

Yet as the days creeped more lethargically into the summer, it seems as if the tensions that had arisen earlier in the season were dying down. Life was somewhat steady again. And due to your efforts during the battle, the Hwarang were growing more receptive and encouraging of your involvement with them. A small victory, for sure, but you were now allowed to complete chores in solitude now rather than being watched over by one of the captains. That’s where you find yourself now, sweeping away the dust that had accumulated in the overnight winds in front of the complex. 

You’re humming to yourself, brushing the boom atop the agate stone of the entrance when you hear gentle footsteps walking up the stairs to the main gate. 

“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls out to you, “Is this the Hwarang headquarters?” 

You look up from your work, your lips parting in mild surprise at seeing a familiar face, “It is.” 

“Ah, yes- hello,” the man smiles at you, the sunlight glimmering off of the purple silk of his robes, he then pauses, his eyes widening. “You’re…” 

“Huh?” 

As if he had telepathic means to tell if you’d strayed away from your task, the front entrance of the hall swings open, Jihoon standing in the doorway. He looks from you to the man and then back to you, pausing as if to let you speak. 

“Commander,” eyebrows raising in surprise, “This is-” 

Before you can finish speaking, the stranger almost gleefully runs to the commander. 

“I knew it!” he says, an unhidden delight in his words as he smiles at Jihoon, “It’s me, Seokmin, long time no see!” 

“Y- Wait, Seokmin?” Jihoon looks surprised as the other announces himself, “What are you doing here?!” 

A laugh from Seokmin, “Are you surprised? I’m visiting Seorabeol with the Crown’s orders.” He waves his hand, “But forget about that. I can’t believe it was you connected to the Hwarang! I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Congratulations, you really followed your and Hoseok’s dream.” 

The name lingers in the air heavily for a moment between the two, you’ve never heard of a Hoseok before. Looking at the two of them, it must’ve been at least an acquaintance of theirs. 

Jihoon doesn’t let the weight last, breaking it with a small smile. “Come on, if I were to fully do that, I’d be a general by now. The Hwarang aren’t treated much better than the city guard at this point.” 

“Still,” a somewhat nostalgic look in Seokmin’s eye, “I’m sure he’d be happy either way. The Hwarang are famous in Seorabeol, and gaining even more notoriety in other cities. With the raids last month, you’ve gained even more popular support.” 

Jihoon looks humble for a second, breaking his gaze with Seokmin to look at the ground. “We’re still working on that,” he mumbles out as the other laughs at him. 

It was an odd thing to see Jihoon flustered, you’d really only seen a mild variant of his embarrassment when Seungkwan would really get under his skin. But you’ve never seen his cheeks go flush before. With Seokmin’s teasing and knowledge of something that seemed to have happened years ago, it would suggest that they’ve known each other for a while. Are they good friends? 

Once you sense their conversation coming to a lull, you speak up, “Commander, can I ask who this is?” 

“Oh, yeah. You two haven’t met, I take it?” Jihoon muses and turns to look at you. 

“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet.” Seokmin nods, “My name is Lee Seokmin. I’m a Naegeumwi.” 

You introduce yourself quickly. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he smiles and gives you a short bow. 

Jihoon then gazes at the cloudless, sunny sky for a moment, “We don’t need to talk outside like this, why don’t you come in?” 

As the two make their way inside, you set the broom that is still in your hands next to the doorway and scurry off to the kitchen. You return to them some while later holding a tray of tea and assorted goods. After you set down the tray, Jihoon tells you to stay, so you take a seat a little way away from where the two are conversing. 

“You said you’re here on Crown orders? What are you here for?” Jihoon asks, his hand hovering over his steaming cup of tea. 

“I’m currently working in one of the Sodang units.” Seokmin explains. He goes on to say a few more things about his duties, but you’re unfamiliar with a majority of the lingo they use, so you try to follow along to the best of your ability. 

Jihoon, glancing at you and seeing your viable confusion, speaks up, “He’s in the Naegeumwi, entrusted with protecting King Munmu and his family.” 

“Oh wow,” you look at Seokmin, “I’m honored to meet someone with such a high ranking.” 

“Please,” he says, bowing his head humbly, “I only acquired this position because of the connections my father has.” 

“Why would someone with his rank need to visit the Hwarang?” You question Jihoon. While the Hwarang work under the Crown, there was no direct connection, whereas it seems as if Seokmin works quite literally with the king. 

“Are you asking why he’d know a bunch of washed-up nobles and commoners like us?” Jihoon asks, almost teasingly. You nod gently, so as to not offend him. “You see, not only is Seokmin a Naegeumwi, but his father’s father was Lee Alcheon.” Once again noting your confusion he clarifies, “A Sangdaedeung under Queen Jindeok some years ago. He opened a fairly prestigious school after his time in office, and now Seokmin here is the heir to it. The school I attended socialized often with the Lee school and that’s how I came to meet him.” 

“That’s right,” Seokmin nods, “When I heard that I was heading to Seorabeol I knew that I had to find you.” His eyes shine with admiration towards Jihoon, but the commander just scoffs and rolls his eyes at him. 

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Lee,” Jihoon sighs, “And remember: Seorabeol isn’t exactly a relaxing getaway.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind… However, even if it is dangerous, it seems even a woman can join the Hwarang?” Seokmin looks at you coyly before returning his gaze to the commander. He judges both the surprised look and glare from Jihoon for a moment before raising his hand to his mouth in surprise, “Was that supposed to be a secret?” He waits a moment, seeing as there’s no answer, he continues, “It’s not difficult to tell. I mean it’s not her fault.” 

“I know,” Jihoon’s probably recalling the first he’d met you; he’d been one of the first to figure it out, “Only a fool couldn’t see.” He resigns himself into a sigh, “Her reasons for being here are somewhat complicated, so we’re having her dress as a man for now. Only a handful of men in the Hwarang know of her circumstance, so I’d prefer if you didn’t speak about it in front of anyone.” 

“I understand,” the guard agrees. 

The three of you talking must’ve drawn the attention of the captains, because as Seokmin was about to begin teasing the commander some more, they slowly began to filter in. 

“Seokmin!” Junhui says as he sees the guard, running over to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder, “I thought you’d said you’d visit sooner!” 

“We thought we heard your voice somewhere, Wen thought he was hallucinating,” Mingyu notes as he greets Seokmin. 

“Junhui, Mingyu,” a smile curling onto Seokmin’s lips as Junhui relinquishes him from his grasp, “And everyone else! Long time no see.” 

“Can’t believe you’re in Seorabeol too now, are you here to train?” Junhui asks. 

“Don’t be stupid, Wen. I bet he’s here to protect something or someone important, right?” Soonyoung questions as he looks to the guard. 

A breathy chuckle from Seokmin, “It’s… something like that.” 

“If you’re in Seorabeol, then it must’ve been a good job offer.” Hansol notes, as he looks at Seokmin. 

Seokmin nods silently to affirm him while Seungkwan speaks up, “If that’s the case: be careful. Don’t be stupid and go off dying on us.” 

“Thank you for the warning,” Seokmin looks to the elder, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“We should go drinking to celebrate someday, hell, we could go now if you want!” Junhui shouts out, eager to get out of the headquarters for a bit. 

The rest of the captains surround Seokmin for a while, immersing themselves in conversation and banter with the guard as he, too, seems to get lost in it all. So, he really did know all of them. 

“Despite him being in the Naegeumwi, and heir of his grandfather’s school…” Jihoon’s eyes hold a fond warmth as he looks onto the commotion happening in the room. “He doesn’t hold that over the heads of the ranks lower than him. No one can escape his amiable nature.” The commander then turns to you, “Whenever he visits, be sure to let him in.” 

“Alright,” you nod, not bothered by that order at all. Seokmin seemed to bring a warmth to the Hwarang men that you hadn’t seen too often, it was probably good for them. 

The men spent an exorbitant amount of time regaling about memories and incidents that had happened with their friend, and before they or you knew it, evening descended upon the compound with the orange glow of the setting sun. Seokmin notes this at one point and says he has to depart back to his duties. 

“I’ll try to drop by again soon,” Seokmin smiles, a twinkle in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and heads towards the city. You watch him as he leaves, his tall figure becoming smaller and smaller with every step before he eventually disappears down the pathway. 

Even if he was an important person and a friend of the Hwarang, he was an enigma to you. Seokmin was assuredly high amongst the bone-ranks, maybe even higher than the Hwarang’s commander, yet upheld himself with integrity and mindfulness to everyone he came across. You’d never been made aware of a noble that was like that before, most adhering to the rigid structure of the realm. 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s hot. Blazingly so. The city is blanketed by a heat so unknown to you that you found yourself perspiring as you awoke that morning. You’d thought you’d been sick until you walked into the main hall and saw the other captains in a similar state to yourself. There was nothing to be done about it except for staying in the shade or perhaps cooling off by a river. 

Yet, that’s not what was in store for you. Ever since your actions on the nights of the inn raids, Jihoon has been much more forgiving in his attitude, allowing you to resume your patrols with the captains. And seeing as Kim Mingyu was about to head out, you decided to tag along. 

You regret that decision almost immediately when you step onto the city’s streets, the crowds not doing anything to damper the rays of sun beaming down onto you. 

“Mingyu?” You ask as the two of you walk down the street, “The Hwarang patrol both night and day, right?” 

“They do,” he nods, wiping the sweat that had accumulated around the headband on his forehead, “Why?” 

“Why is it that you do? Wouldn’t that be more of the city guard’s job?” You question as you pass by an armory, the heat of its fires only causing you to perspire more. 

“Because most of the city guard’s been called to the front,” his shoulders shrug, “Emperor Gaozong called them to help his forces root out Goguryeo last month so they’ve had a decline in their numbers… I’m not sure when they’ll be back, I heard the King was leading generals to Siigok Garrison so I can only assume it’ll be a while.” 

“So, you’ve become the city guard then?”

“I mean, in a way,” he thinks, “We arrest thieves, people who’re looking for fights and who don’t pay for their meals. And then there are those who think they’ll just mooch off of merchants...”

It wasn’t fully the answer you’d been expecting, maybe along the lines of it. The adoption of the guard’s role was something new, but you couldn’t fault them for it if the city needed their swords. Before you’re able to continue to question him, a few men in Hwarang blues down the road seem to be trying to wave Mingyu down. Getting closer to the scene, you can make out Junhui’s figure and a few more Hwarang men.

“Hey!” He smiles as the two of you stand before him, he looks to you before asking, “Find anything about your dad?” 

“No,” a small shake of your head, “Nothing yet.” 

“Ah, cheer up,” he says, gently hitting you on the arm as he sees your downtrodden frown, “There’s always tomorrow.” 

“You’re right,” pepping up slightly at his words. Junhui seems to be able to energize and lighten the mood whenever someone was feeling low, it was something you’d noticed over the course of getting to know him. It was almost as if his optimism was contagious. 

“Did you find anything fun, Junhui?” Mingyu questions, probably wondering if there was any more reason for Junhui flagging you down other than wanting to say hello. 

“Nothing in particular…” Junhui admits, “But, all of the people on this street are acting really busy.” 

You think he’s being a little over dramatic, but a closer observation of the pedestrians and shopkeepers has you thinking a little more critically. There was almost a nervousness, an anxiety, threading itself through the air and in their movements. 

“It looks like they’re… packing up?” You observe, eyeing one merchant in particular boxing away his things.

“You think they’re worried about the war with Goguryeo or the Baekje guys?” Mingyu asks Junhui, crossing his arms. 

“I thought that the Baekje threat was resolved...?” You say, looking from Mingyu to Junhui, confusion seeped into your voice. 

The taller rests his hand atop the hilt of his sword, “We didn’t tell you, did we? Those Baekje bastards have been showing up again, that’s why we’ve been having extra rounds.” 

“Even if we did weaken them at Wonweol,” Mingyu frowns, “I can’t really imagine them standing idly around when we’ve put some of their men in the ground. And now that the king’s absent… it’s a little trickier for us.” 

“Were the loyalists planning on doing something?” You ask, the way Mingyu had spoken leads you to believe something had been in the works. 

“Not sure,” Junhui says with a shake of his head, “Other than what we found out after the raids we haven’t gotten wind of anything else.” 

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Mingyu notes, “All we’ve got to do is do our jobs. The loyalists attack Seorabeol, we drive them out. It’s as simple as that.” The Hwarang just accept the cards they’re dealt and never seem to complain. 

“If the loyalists continue their stunts, then we’re probably going to get orders from the king to do something whenever he gets back,” Junhui sighs, not knowing how long the sovereign would be out of the capital. 

“What do you think he’d decree?” A tilt of your head as you ask, unknowing what more he could make the Hwarang do. 

“In the past the Hwarang have fought almost as their own regiment, he might do that.” Junhui shrugs, his hand moving from his sword and down to his side. 

“That doesn’t happen too often,” Mingyu nods almost approvingly and then turns to you with a joking smile, “You should join us.” 

You laugh at the sudden invitation, knowing full well the offer wasn’t real. Seeing as the female version of the Hwarang, the Wonhwa, had been thrown away since before the Hwarang themselves were even conceptualized, it was a long shot to think that you could march along their ranks. As much as you want to help these men, you’re not sure that they’d fully accept you into their ranks. But if you could aid them like you had on the night of the raids on the two inns, you wouldn’t mind doing something like that again. 

“If you want me to go with you, I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shoot back at Mingyu, cracking a small smile at him. “If you need me to help, I’ll do whatever I can.” 

His smile deepens, the dimples on his cheeks beginning to show, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if the time comes.” 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 18𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Excuse me,” you say quietly as you make your way into the main hall, the wooden handle of the teapot in your grasp course on your palm. The heat of its contents rises up to try and weaken your grip on the vessel. “I brought you all some more tea.” 

The Hwarang captains and men sit in various spots around the hall, you’re not sure why they’re convening, but they’d been in there for at least an hour discussing some matter at hand. 

“Thanks!” Junhui calls out and beckons you over, he takes the pot from your hands and begins to pour tea into his already halfway filled cup, “It’s almost like you’re our servant or something.” 

More so a page, but you weren’t going to correct him quite yet. You take back the pot and look around for anyone who might need a refill. Spotting Eunseok trying to catch your eye, you make your way over and fill his cup. 

“Thank you,” he says once you’re finished, quickly bringing the cup to his lips and blowing on the warm contents. 

“It’s no problem,” you smile, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to disrupt the main conversation flowing throughout the hall. As you’re about to move away, Seungkwan swipes the pot from your grasp, pouring his own cup of tea and taking a drink of it. His face contorts for a moment and you question, “Does it not taste good?” 

“It tastes fine, I guess,” his shoulders shrug as he leans back in his seat, “It could stand to be a little warmer though, maybe you’re just taking too long to pour it.”

 “Oh,” you frown, taking the pot back from him, holding your free hand to the side of the vessel for a moment to test the warmth, “I’ll go and brew some more.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Soonyoung butts in, motioning for you to hand him the pot, “I like it lukewarm because it’s easier to drink, right, Hansol?” 

“Right,” the aforementioned captain nods, “It’s easier to drink on a hot day like this.” 

It looks as if Soonyoung’s about to speak again before Youngmin barges into the hall, a stoic expression drawn onto his face. 

“The Hwarang have received an official request from the Crown to head to Sabi. All available men must get ready to set out at once,” Youngmin says, a sternness in his voice hinting at a notion of pride somewhere hidden away in its depths. There’s general excitement beginning to buzz among the Hwarang before he continues, “It seems as if they’ve noticed all of our hard work as of late.” It’s then he lets himself break out into a prideful smile; it was clear he was proud of the work the Hwarang had achieved in the past few weeks. 

As you scan the faces of the room, there is one in particular that has a sour expression forming as Youngmin finishes. 

“We don’t have time to celebrate,” Jihoon says, rising to his feet, “We need to get moving now, so get off of your asses and go!” The captains and other men then begin to follow his lead and stand, “Those loyalists are already in Seorabeol, we need to cut the head off of this snake before it lays any more eggs.”

Once the men filter out and it’s only you and the captains, Jihoon speaks up, “Only when there’s somewhere else to go, they tell us to haul ass?” He shakes his head, “We may not be the Guard or the Watch, but it doesn’t mean we’re any less expendable.” 

“Soonyoung and Seungkwan,” Seungcheol says after Jihoon’s done mumbling to himself, “You’ll remain here. I know it’s not what you want, but your injuries from Wonweol are still preventing you from active duty.” You glance to his hand, knowing full well that the colonel would be staying behind as well.  

“Speak for yourself,” Seungkwan frowns, clearly perturbed by the orders, “It’s not like my injuries didn’t recover. But I’m not at peak performance, even I can realize that. So, if you want me to hang back, I guess I can…” 

“That’s bullshit!” Adversely, Soonyoung points to his forehead, the cut he’d received during the raids still an angry pink where the skin had been slashed. “This is just a scratch, Kwak’s just being too careful.” 

“Are you being serious?” Mingyu scoffs at the younger, “I heard you in your room crying about how much it still hurt last night.” 

“You bastard,” Soonyoung pouts, “Don’t you want me out there with you guys?”

“Oh, believe me, I do, Kwon.” Mingyu shakes his head, chuckling, “I just want you at your best. Not crying into your pillow because of a scratch. Even you heard him, right?” He looks to you for affirmation. 

“HEY!” Soonyoung whines, you think he’s going to clamp his hand over Mingyu’s mouth but the other moves away before he can. “Don’t ask her! And can you try to keep your mouth shut for a little while?” Soonyoung then gives you a sideways glance as if to ask if you really had heard him complaining yesterday. 

“...Your injury still hasn’t healed, Soonyoung.” You don’t explicitly admit that you heard his grumblings, even though you had. The band he normally wears with the Hwarang insignia hides the scar well, but without it, like he is now, it’s a stark reminder that he isn’t quite ready for the front lines again. 

“Hm, you said you wanted to go with us if we ever got the orders, didn’t you?” Junhui interrupts the lull in the room as he asks you a question. “Are you still up for that?” 

Even if you said that you’d join Junhui and Mingyu when you were out with them the other day, you thought you’d been joking, or half-joking at least. It would be risky if you did join them. 

“I don’t see any reason why you can’t tag along,” Youngmin says with a nod of his head, “Opportunities for the Hwarang to move under Crown command alone are rare.” While he’s supposed to be the leader of the Hwarang, Kwak Youngmin was very easily swayed by his men’s words.  

“What?” Soonyoung says, almost confused as he looks from Junhui to Mingyu. “If she’s going with you, then maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for me to tag along too, right?” 

“You’re still not where you need to be,” Junhui says, nudging the other with his elbow gently, “Just stay here and heal up.”

“Are you sure it’s okay that I go with you?” You ask, still not fully convinced they want you tagging along with them. 

The captain and colonel sigh at your reservations.  

“We can’t promise that you won’t get injured, or worse.” Jihoon says, a distressed glint in his eyes as he speaks to you, “I think you should stay here.”  

“Staying here would be an undue burden on the rest of us that stay,” Seungcheol argues back, “We’re not here to be a source of entertainment for you.” 

“Seungcheol…” Hansol speaks up, “So, as long as she’s not being burdensome, she’s free to go with us?” 

Is he standing up for you? It seems to be the case as Seungcheol looks at him in surprise, his eyes widening at the captain.  

“You’re really in favor of taking her along with you?” The colonel asks, his brow furrowing as he tries to understand the rationale.  

“She was an asset to us as Wonweol,” Hansol’s shoulders shrug, “Taking that into consideration, I hardly believe that she can be considered a ‘burden’, when recalling that.” 

“Great!” Youngmin exclaims, relinquishing the two from their conversation as his hands clap together. “I’ll take full responsibility for your inclusion, that is, if you want to go with us.” 

“Do whatever you want to do,” almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Seungkwan speaks up. The two of you make eye contact, and a smaller version of the smirk he almost always has plastered on his face curls to his lips. “Just as long as you know that this is a battle you’re going to, not a party.” 

Maybe you’d be able to help them out as you had on the night of the raids. It was a strong maybe, but you couldn’t let that hinder your decision making, could you?  

“I’d like to participate,” you find the words falling from your lips before you have the thought of saying them in the first place. Perhaps it was your subconscious speaking for what you truly want.  

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 24, 661 - 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔞𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 (𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔞𝔢𝔨𝔧𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡) Entering the territory of the former kingdom is more eye opening to you than you had ever thought it would be. Rather than the calmness that had been exemplified by the King’s announcements back in Silla, there is an anxious tension wrought in the villages and towns as the Hwarang sweep through. Even though they were only passing by, the inhabitants would warily gaze upon you, the captains, and the rest of the men as if to gauge how hostile their new countrymen would be. 

The main goal is to reach Ongsan, a former Baekje fortress that stands on the once border between the two Kingdoms. It seems as if the same group of loyalists from Seorabeol had taken over the now-emptied armament and claimed it as their headquarters. The Crown assigned the Hwarang the mission of expelling them, in a way of their gratitude for their performance on the night of the Wonweol and Jeolin Inn raids. 

Judging from what the captains were saying this morning, it seems as if you’re not too far from your destination. You don’t know the layout of this land, the towns are unfamiliar and the faces just as so.  

For the most part, the men have been silent, only the odd gripe from one of the Hwarang. The absence of both Seungkwan and Soonyoung are notable, their voices seeming to fill in large gaps of silence when in attendance. It’s not until your troupe stops in front of a walled gate, presumably leading into a city, that Youngmin speaks up. Before the group stands a few other soldiers, from Silla by the looks of their armor.  

“My name is Kwak Youngmin, leader of the Seorabeol Hwarang. I am here on orders from Kim Seokmin, an army general under His Majesty King Munmu.” He stands before an officer of the troupe that was already there. 

Kim Seokmin is one of the most influential members of the Crown’s court. The father of Kim Mingyu and former Hwarang himself, he acquired favor from the kingship due to his efforts in a handful of Baekje rebellions in the decades prior. 

The officer looks confused, his brow furrowing, “You were told to report here? Did you not meet with the men from Unghyeon?” 

“Unghyeon?” You mouth the word in the same confusion the officer was expressing. It’s a Silla fortress some distance away from where you all stand now; it hadn’t been brought up in any conversation the Hwarang had had on their trek. 

“Several generals and their troops were sent there to convene before the attack,” Hansol leans over to you and whispers, “If we were meant to meet with them, it’s most likely the message to tell us to do so was intercepted.”  

“Does that mean they know we’re coming?” You ask quietly, looking around to the other captains to try and gauge what they’re thinking.  

“It’s likely they’ve put the pieces together,” Hansol nods solemnly, “But I can’t imagine they have the numbers to rival both us and the other group.” 

“This could still get messy, though,” you sigh, hoping the break in communication wouldn’t be but so impactful to the mission. 

“Regardless of that, our aid has been formally requested,” Youngmin stands firm as he speaks to the officer, “If you could relay this to your commandi-” 

 “If that’s the case then I suggest you try and convene with the King’s garrison,” the officer states as he cuts off Youngmin, “We can’t let you in here because we have no idea what’s waiting on the other side.”

“Our orders say to stay stationed here,” Youngmin frowns, clearly frustrated with the lack of cooperation. 

“There’s nothing we can do about this, Chief,” Hansol speaks up, stepping over to Youngmin. “If they won’t allow us access here, maybe it would be in our best interest to try and find the others.” It looks as if Hansol was going to suggest something else before Kangjoon interrupts. 

“Find the others?” He shakes his head almost angrily, “Kim’s orders were to stay stationed here until we were signaled to enter the city. Why would we ignore a military command when we haven’t received anything to tell us to do otherwise? I think we should remain here on standby.” 

“If this was a camp that we were stationed at, that might make sense, Suh.” Hansol states with a frown, “But this is, or very soon will be, the front lines of a battle.” 

“Are you really trying to go against me?” Kangjoon nearly snarls back, the mere thought of someone going against his wishes enraging him, “Don’t forget that I’m the Hwarang’s War Counselor.” 

“And I’m the leader,” Youngmin interjects, “Hansol’s made a good point. We’ll look for the other group’s camp and hopefully get a better understanding of the strategy at play.” 

And with his words, the Hwarang begin to walk along the narrow pathway surrounding the fortress in search of the other group of generals and soldiers that are on their way from Unghyeon. Your group eventually finds the ally camp to the eastern front of the fortress, wooden spikes that had been hastily made surrounding it. A few soldiers come out to greet a few members of the Hwarang as you enter, they might be friends or family members who haven't seen each other in quite some time.  

Almost as soon as you’d entered the camp, Youngmin is ushered into one of the tents to speak with a few generals. You’re not sure who’s in there, but with the pallid complexion of the Hwarang’s leader upon his exit, you can assume it had been higher ranks than he’d been expecting.  

The orders are now to travel to the Southern Gate, the opposite end of where your original orders had been to go with a general and his troops.  

“If these guys say anything, and I don’t think they will, just let me know, okay?” Junhui says as everyone begins to leave the encampment. “Park Kimsu’s not a friendly face around here.” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, not noticing Mingyu saddling up beside you. 

“What he means is, his father’s an enemy of my father,” Mingyu says, a gruffness to his voice as if he’s recalling something. “His father’s probably the one that sent the Watch out the night of the raids to try and take credit for what we did.”  

“That and he’s a major prick,” Junhui adds, “I can’t imagine his men are much better.” 

“Come on you guys,” Youngmin says as he slows his pace in front of you three, falling in line to your steps. “We can’t talk about them like that,” he contradicts his words by letting slip a sly smile for a few seconds before straightening his face and resuming his position at the front of the line.  

By the time you all arrived and set up your small camp, night had fallen quickly, plunging the surrounding area into an inky black, save for the lights several fires dotted around the site provided. Youngmin, Jihoon and the captains had gone off to speak with Park Kimsu and his officers, leaving you and the rest of the Hwarang to sit around camp with little else to do.  

They return what feels like hours later, their shoulders sagging and eyes looking tired as if they'd just run for that time instead of sitting in on a meeting. Eunseok, who had accompanied them, walks over to you with a small and lethargic smile.  

“For the most part they’re being cooperative,” he sighs, “The only reason Kimsu was paired with us is because his father asked for it, though.” 

“Why would he do that?” You ask with a tilt of your head. Earlier, Mingyu has said that his and Kimsu’s families were something along the lines of enemies. 

“I don’t know,” Eunseok shakes his head, “Maybe to rile us up? Regardless of that though, we’re here to watch over the gate and make sure no one escapes.”

“Regardless of that, they’re treating us like reserve troops,” Junhui’s voice is strained as he walks over, his arms high over his head as he stretches. Once he drops his arms down, he speaks up, “They’ve left smaller reserves around the South entrance because the biggest fight is going to happen at the North Gate.” He sounds a little disappointed, as if he were anticipating a big battle.  

“We don’t know what they’ll do exactly,” Hansol says as he trails after him, “We may very well see battle.” 

But that means waiting and seeing as the sun isn’t to rise for a long time, that means waiting overnight. As the crowds disperse and settle into their tents, you find that the Hwarang, at least, are sleeping in shifts so that if the call to arms were to come at night, there would be someone to rouse everyone else.  

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you need to,” Mingyu says as the two of you sit down to keep watch, the flames in front of you seem like they’re trying to lull you to sleep. 

“I’m alright,” trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you shake your head. You’d feel wrong trying to sleep when you know these men could get called to face death at any moment.  

A nervous anxiousness coils around your stomach until you find yourself falling asleep later in the night, not awaking until the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon. When you sit up from the laid down position you’d slept in, you notice that the men had kept a silent vigil all through the night. Even as you were drifting in and out of consciousness, you noted that there were men posted around the camp, looking for anything or anyone suspicious.  

A little while later a large boom reverberates through the surrounding forest. You first think it’s a crack of lightning, or maybe the subsequent boom of thunder that succeeds it, but the sky is clear today, not a cloud in sight. It had echoed like thunder, startling the birds in the nearby trees, and causing more people than just you to jump in shock. 

“What was that?” You question Hansol as he walks past you, seeming to look for someone coming in from outside of the camp. 

“It looks like the main army is beginning to siege the fortress,” he says, his eyes narrowing as scans the tree-line. The soldiers and Hwarang within the camp are moving by now,  

“Let’s get a move on!” Jihoon shouts out from somewhere deeper in the camp, his voice nearing as he continues to speak, “They’re not going to pause the fight until we get there, so get moving!” 

“We were told to stay here,” Park Kimsu says as he emerges from his tent, probably stirred from the commotion outside. The general watches the scramble of men in the camp race for their weapons and armor for a moment before he turns to Jihoon, “You don’t command my men.” 

“Our job is to siege the fortress, not sit on our asses and wait for this to pass by,” The commander bites back, he was almost yelling at the general. “We’re here to root out these loyalists, that won’t happen if we just stay here!”  

“We haven’t even received orders to push!” Kimsu quips, his brow furrowing at the Hwarang.  

“If you have any pride in your position, forget the damn orders and move your men,” Jihoon huffs, straightening the band around his forehead, “They aren’t going to willingly surrender.” The commander and general stare harshly at one another for a moment, almost as if they’re testing each other in a battle of wills. Jihoon, seeing as it was useless to try to neg the other any further, spins on his heels and begins to stalk off.  

“Where are we going?” You whisper to Hansol as Jihoon passes by, muttering something to himself.

 “To face the enemy head on,” He says quietly, “Which, in our case, means the Southern Gate. The main fight is meant to happen at the Northern Gate so I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to divide our numbers to get more support up there.” 

“I see,” You nod, the same nervousness invading your veins once again, it was now riddled with an adrenaline that was probably the only thing making you think clearly. 

Jihoon’s rage at the general seems to have roused the reserve troops, who now, instead of loitering around the camp, seem to be mostly readied up. Led by both Park Kimsu and Lee Jihoon, the army and the Hwarang march their way to the Southern Gate.  

It was only a short trek to the destination, but the remains of skirmishes that seemed to have happened moments prior litter the ground. Soldiers, dead and dying, lay on the ground, chunks of wood from the gate lay in reddened splinters as arrows, both broken and intact, lay riddled where fragments of the gate’s doors once stood. The group that had come before you seem to have successfully made it into the city, but not without losses of their own. You can see both Baekje and Silla armor on the bodies of the fallen soldiers.  

Even if you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you might see, the reality of it all still shatters your heart.  

Though the Baekje and Silla forces were nowhere to be seen, had your allies driven them further into the fortress? After a quick moment of assessment, Jihoon orders a few captains to investigate what happened, Youngmin sighing as he does so. 

“Had we known a group of Silla warriors were coming in beforehand we would’ve joined them and lost fewer lives.” He frowns as he looks over the scene, looking up once he sees Hansol returning from his survey of the area.  

“It looks like our forces attacked the gate earlier this morning, were repelled briefly before the flank on the Northern Gate began,” the captain recounts, looking to Jihoon, “After their forces were divided the army at the Southern Gate was able to advance into the fortress.” 

“Do you have any word on what’s happening at the Northern Gate?” Jihoon questions, obviously beginning to silently plan a course of action.  

“They’re still fighting,” Hansol nods, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if he can tell what Jihoon’s thinking, “The King’s garrison has yet to advance into Ongsan.” 

“Lee!” Mingyu shouts out as he returns from his own survey of the area, running from the direction of the pass to reach the stronghold. “There’s supposedly Baekje reinforcements coming from the west as well, not many, but enough to make a dent in our numbers if we let them.” 

Jihoon’s expression of confidence wavers momentarily as he listens to Kim as he approaches, but before he can comment on it, Chan also races over to the group of captains from surveying inside of the fortress.  

“Commander,” he starts off, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, glinting in the daylight now hanging overhead, “It’s believed that the men who led this are heading for the heart of the fortress to try and kill the loyalists trying to run for it.” 

The commander thinks after listening to the cumulative reports, contemplating as to what the next move should be. Although Youngmin is the recognized formal leader of the Hwarang, you’d come to learn the most major decisions were given to Jihoon to make. This was no exception, the crowd of captains anticipating his orders while Kimsu was speaking with his own men of what to do next.  

“It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Jihoon’s lips curve into a small smile after a moment of silence. “Kim, take your men to the pass to deal with any incoming loyalists. Lee, Choi,” he turns to Chan and Hansol, “follow the men into the fortress, but make sure to keep an ear out if Kim needs any reinforcements at the pass.” 

There’s nods and affirmations from the captains and officers before the commander turns to Youngmin, “I’m sorry for giving you the hardest one, Chief. Can you speak with the higher ups back at the main camp about a punitive measure for the group that got here before us? As far as both Kimsu and I were aware they weren’t supposed to do that, and I’ll bet they’re doing more in there than just routing out the loyalists. If we’re to do anything about that then we’ll need the higher ups permission.” 

While an independently run body from the Crown’s army or guard, the Hwarang still need permission to act under that guise of pseudo-Crown rule and dole out their justice. 

“I’m sure I can do something about it, and if not me, my father,” Youngmin nods, a smile forming as he thinks it over. You’re not sure who Youngmin’s father is, but if his son is the leader of the Hwarang, his position in the Crown’s council must be higher than anyone else’s father in the organization. It would still be tricky to gain that permission with all of the Hwarang naysayers and adversaries within the council.  

“Eunseok, can you go with him?” Jihoon asks and turns to their youngest member, “Someone has to keep an eye on him.” 

“Of course,” He nods, “I’ll do my best.”  

Jihoon smiles wryly at him before turning to the remaining Hwarang. “The rest of you are following me into the fortress and to the Northern Gate. As for you,” he looks directly at you, “You can’t go with Youngmin, but other than that it’s up to you.” 

You know he doesn’t know where to place you. It’s not as if you’re one of the Hwarang he could command to a role and set you there. Maybe having you decide your own fate was a way to take the burden off his shoulders.  

“I’ll go with you, then,” you say after a moment of contemplation. Along with Jihoon, a group of Hwarang, and a group of regular soldiers, you’ll race into Ongsan and try to open the Northern Gate for the King’s garrison to make way into the fortress by suppressing the loyalists inside.  

The groups disperse shortly after, Mingyu and his men heading to the pass, Youngmin and Eunseok leaving for the main camp, Chan and Hansol leaving for the heart of the fortress, and then Jihoon and you making way to the Northern Gate from inside the fortress itself.  

Jihoon, you and the group of soldiers accompanying you race through the fortress. Seeing it from the outside had hidden how expansive it is on the inside, large courtyards and twisting hallways have your mind running in circles as you slowly run out of breath. You come upon another seemingly empty courtyard before stopping in your tracks. There’s someone standing in the middle of it, someone wearing neither Silla nor Baekje armor. In fact, they are dressed more like a noble than a fighter. 

The sun is shining so harshly onto the courtyard as you approach that it’s hard to get a good look at his face. It’s obscured in the sunlight and the light yellow of his robes and the glinting silver of a blade in his hand is doing little to help that. There’s a strange aura surrounding him, almost as if he's waiting for something to happen. 

Jihoon, perceptive to that, motions for everyone to stop before encroaching on the character. The Hwarang stop in their tracks, save for one man too eager or arrogant to follow the commander’s orders and charges towards the figure with his sword out. The stranger seems to have only waved his arm once before the Hwarang falls to the ground, the dull sound of his body hitting the stone below echoing around the courtyard, the clangor of battle raging in the distance. 

“What the hell?!” Junhui shouts out, shoving his way through the throng of Hwarang and over to the fallen man. The man’s unresponsive, a thick pool of blood beginning to stain the ground under him. The rest of the men, first taken aback by the stranger, now glare at him for the loss of their comrade.

“Commander… He was at Wonweol!” You say, finally realizing where you’d seen this man before.

“You’re Hwarang, aren’t you?” The stranger speaks up, his blade tapping against the agate stone of the walkway, “I can tell because of those blue robes of yours.” He sighs out, “A bunch of pretty nobles playing soldier, aren’t you all old enough to know to stop playing pretend?”

The man’s words are enough to make the already on-edge men agitated. Egged on by the harsh ridicule of someone they’d only just come upon. Each Hwarang, either noble or not, had their reason for joining. Taking their choice into question was cruel and that was clearly painted on their faces now. 

“First, you ruin my plans at Wonweol and now you’re trying to play hero,” They snicker, “You’re not even real soldiers, are you?” His gaze travels down to the fallen Hwarang momentarily before lazily and almost arrogantly meeting Jihoon’s eyes, “I’d turn back if I were you, unless you want to end up like your friend here.”

“You’re the swordsman who beat Seungkwan at Wonweol?” Jihoon asks, the tension in the air thick and palpable as he speaks. “I heard you were quite good, but these are pretty big words coming from such a small man.” The smile on the commander’s face is anything but amicable. 

“And I heard that you all were talented, for what you are, but this sorry display is telling me otherwise.” The now adversary snickers, once again glancing at the dying, or maybe he was already dead, Hwarang. “The man I fought at the inn; his name is Seungkwan? It’s a bit of a stretch to call him a real swordsman.”

You know from watching the men train that Seungkwan is skilled with a sword, but he had been injured by this man. Is his prowess with a blade more prolific than the Hwarang captain’s?

“Insult Boo all you want,” Junhui stands from the body of the crumpled soldier to face the stranger, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip. “But why did you kill this man?” The hiss of the steel leaving the sheath cries out as he tears it from the scabbard, the captain’s teeth baring. “If I don’t like your answer then I won’t hesitate to tear you down right here.” 

“How prideful,” you can almost hear him roll his eyes, “The king says for you to ‘Jump’ and you say, ‘How high?’. Why are you chasing after men who’ve deserted their own movement? Or are you trying to let your own men in at the Northern Gate? Either way, your combatants are going to kill themselves before they’ll let you take this place by full force.” 

You glance at Jihoon and the men around him, not even one looking as if the other’s words were outlandish. It seems as if the man in front of you had stopped your assault on the fortress to spare the pride of the Baekje loyalists. From the stranger’s point of view, you can understand what he was doing and why he feels right about it. But that gave him no right to slay one of the Hwarang.  

“Is taking someone’s life for the sake of another’s pride just?” You speak up, distraught from this situation entirely, “The only one who can save your pride is you, not letting that responsibility fall into someone else’s hands.”  

A grin splits onto the other’s face, “There’s some truth in that, I suppose. Are you saying that I should let the Hwarang demolish any pride these men have just to simply gain favor with the Crown?” Despite the curvature of his lips, his voice is not amused.  

“That’s not what I…” The reddish-brown tint of his eyes scrutinizes you as you try to justify yourself, quickly falling away with the harshness of his demeanor.  

“Here I was, thinking you were trying to say something intelligent,” Jihoon steps in once your voice trails off, “but you’re just acting like a child. This is war, not a council meeting debating ethics!” 

“What did you just say?” Knuckles turning white with the newfound grip on his blade, the stranger questions accusingly at Jihoon.  

“The loyalists started a fight knowing their kingdom had been defeated already, and now they’re running away in shame because they’re too cowardly to face the consequence of their actions,” Jihoon argues, a heated tone to his words, “They don’t deserve honor! They’re traitors to their new kingdom by trying to incite a rebellion, you think that deserves an honorable death?” 

“You don’t seem like a coward,” Jihoon states, “So are you ready to accept the consequences of what happens when you kill one of my men?” 

“Those are some big words,” The stranger says as he raises his sword from his lax position, the gore from the fallen Hwarang still clinging to the blade, “Do you really think you can defeat me?” 

The answer isn’t verbal, but a ringing sound as their blades meet. They step back from one another, Jihoon’s grip tightening on his sword as he glares at the other. Now, the commander’s skill seems unrivaled but the thought that this stranger had beaten Seungkwan, the Hwarang’s best swordsman, lingers in the back of your mind as you watch.  

Next to you, you can see Junhui reaching for his own sword. If he were to leap into the fight, it would most certainly help Jihoon gain the upper hand. 

“You can’t,” you say and reach out, your hand falling onto his forearm before he turns to look at you. Meeting and fighting with this stranger aren’t why you and the Hwarang are here. The mission is to aid the forces at the Northern Gate. It isn’t any question whether this man was an enemy, a dangerous one, at that.  

Even if Jihoon can’t defeat him, he would never let the Hwarang abandon their mission, especially after his speech. 

Junhui turns away from you and watches the two men clash for a moment more, gritting his teeth and finally pulling his hand away from his sword. “Lee, I’m going to take your men for a second if that’s okay with you!”  

“Just go already, loudmouth!” Jihoon says as he once again falls away from the stranger, “They’re all yours!” 

“Alright!” Junhui calls out and turns to the men, “We’re heading for the Northern Gate, run straight there and don’t stop until those Baekje bastards have been put in their place!” 

The soldiers roar with a renewed vigor and begin to follow the captain. 

The stranger huffs something out as he watches the men run off, his hand clenching his sword as if he’s about to follow them. 

“You’re not fighting them, so pay attention,” Jihoon calls out to pull the stranger’s focus back to him. “If you don’t, I’ll cut you down from behind instead.”

 “Don’t get in my way!” The stranger shouts, bringing his sword down to meet Jihoon’s, the swing causing Jihoon to reel back once receiving it. 

Now that there is more of a distance between the two, the stranger’s gaze once again travels to Junhui and the running Hwarang. You think for a moment to stop running with the men and try to stand your ground with Jihoon, but relent after a bit, continuing to go further on with the rest of the troops.  

“Keep running!” Jihoon calls out, closing the distance between himself and the stranger, positioning his sword upwards once more.  

“You don’t even know your limit,” The stranger scoffs. 

You stop for a moment, finding yourself unable to keep up with the men and draw your blade instinctively. Knees locking together, your swordsmanship wouldn’t be useful in battle but maybe, just maybe, you can buy the other men some time. 

The next thing you know, a high pitch screech of metal rings out and you’re on the ground. The stranger’s hit had blindsided you, and when your eyes refocus, you see his blade pointing down at you as a trickle of blood runs down your face. 

“That blade…” The stranger murmurs, looking to the steel that had fallen out of your grasp and lay only a foot or two away, “A familiar sight indeed.” Their eyes lock onto yours, “Hey, do you even realize what’s happening? The wound on your face is already starting to heal.” 

Your hand flies to your cheek, fingers brushing over where the cut should have been, but it has already healed. The pain had stopped and the blood had staunched itself. The stranger’s crimson eyes widen.

“Who would’ve thought I’d meet you here. And a female Demon, no less…” His gaze is scrutinizing, “What is your name? And how did you come across this?” 

Before you can answer, a dull clang of metal cries out above you as Jihoon swings his sword from behind while the stranger parries it in front. 

“Get away!” Jihoon shouts out angrily, holding his sword, ready to strike again. 

“Bastard, stay out of my way!” 

“I’m the one you’re fighting!” Jihoon reiterates, “Or do you only prey on the weak? I didn’t take you for a bully.” 

“How dare you, you monarchist dog,” The stranger near growls out as Jihoon looks at you. 

“Go on ahead!” He says and suddenly, energy jolts through you.

You scramble off of the ground reaching for your sword, urgency picking up your feet as you begin to dash away. Even if Jihoon had been there, you don’t think he’d seen your cut heal, at least you hope he hadn’t.

Demon. One of us.

The words of the stranger reverberate around your head as you run, but you can’t dwell on it now as you run to catch up with Junhui and the other men. 

By the time you and the rest of the Hwarang make it to the Northern Gates, it seems as if the King’s garrison had broken through already. There’re skirmishes happening all around the entrance but are soon quelled by the introduction of the Hwarang into the fight. Jihoon hadn’t arrived as the battles waned to a close and the sun began to sink down into the sky. Several higher ups order a few of the captains to look for any remaining loyalists in the compound, leaving you to stand and wait for a sign of the commander or a returning captain. 

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” a voice says to your right. You’re met with the face of Officer Jeon, or Wonwoo as you’ve come to learn. Like Chan, he acts as a spy for the Hwarang but typically deals with Yamato forces, but he had accompanied the men to Ongsan this time, only showing how much more this mission meant to the Hwarang. “I know they will.”

You can only nod your head in response and scan the area, looking for one of the faces you hope to see return. Every passing moment feels like an eternity, slowly inching by as the sun sinks lower and lower into the sky. 

 It’s dusk when you see a figure emerge from the depths of the fortress, the darkening sky obscuring most of their features, but as they near the now lit courtyard you stand in, you can see that it’s a familiar face. 

“Commander!” You shout out and race over to him, relief flooding your system. 

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Wonwoo says, following closely behind you as you stop in front of Jihoon. “It doesn't even look like you’ve been hurt.” 

In the light of the fires, you can see that the Hwarang hadn’t been injured, but he wears a dark expression over his face. 

“I hoped we would have a real fight, but it looks like it was over almost as soon as you all arrived,” he frowns, “held up by a Hwarang opposer, no less.”

“Who was he?” Wonwoo asks, tilting his head slightly. 

“His name is Hong Jisoo. I don’t know if his father’s a part of the council or if he’s just a lackey under one of them, but he’s clearly very anti-us.” 

“But if he’s still working under Silla rule, why did he try to stop us from going after Baekje?” You question, confused by the swordsman’s actions, weren’t both sides there to stop the loyalists? Something about this isn’t settling right with you. “Does that mean he was betraying Silla?” 

“I don’t know about that, but I do think he was trying to stop us from getting here,” Jihoon sighs out, closing his eyes as if to recall the situation, “The soldiers who broke us up were also confused by whatever game he was trying to play. But they didn’t try to command him to do anything after we’d stopped fighting, so he must have meant something to them.” 

“He must have some notoriety in their ranks, then,” Wonwoo muses. 

“He’s a lazy piece of shit who uses his rank or his money to do whatever he wants, more like,” Jihoon says with a bitter edge to his voice. “If he flaunts that around he has no right to try and teach me what his definition of pride is.” 

Before Jihoon can ramble and rant about Jisoo, Junhui and the detachment of men he’d left with returns to the battle site. Junhui stops for a moment upon seeing the commander before breaking out into a large grin. The smile doesn’t last long though as he approaches, the curvature of his grin turning downwards.

 “We found a few runaways, but they were already dying or dead by the time we got there.” At Junhui’s words you feel your heart drop. It’s not that you were sad that the loyalists were dead or that the Hwarang hadn’t been able to capture any one of them, only that more lives had been lost in the conflict.  

“Honorable suicide, then?” Jihoon nods, not sounding angry at the result. “Good for them.”

 “Good?” You ask without thinking, how is that ‘good’? Only hours prior the commander was trying to stop the loyalists from succeeding in that mission, but now that it’s been done he’s lauding them. 

“You don’t understand,” the commander says and looks towards you. “As Hwarang, this isn’t good for us. We failed and let them kill themselves. They’re dead, what good would it be for me to ignore what they’ve done? It doesn’t matter if they’re an enemy or my friend, a man who dies with his honor intact deserves at least some respect.” 

“I guess that makes some sense…” You mutter, not fully understanding the reasoning or what he was trying to convey.  

His expression softens slightly, “The longer you stay with us, the more you’re likely to understand our mindset.” 

Now that this group has come back together, you make your way to the campsite to meet with the rest of the Hwarang you’d parted ways with that morning.  

The event of the loyalist takeover of Ongsan and their eventual expulsion from the fortress comes to be known as the Ongsan Rebellion to the citizens of Silla. And while the Hwarang had been called to action, their efforts were stymied with unforeseen circumstances and were able to find little in the way of gaining major approval with the Crown. Communication with the King’s garrison and the army alongside him had been poor and much of the Hwarang’s time had been spent waiting for battle with the rest of the reserve troops. 

And even when they were called to arms, the Hwarang found a strange opponent at every turn:  

Hong Jisoo, who had defeated Seungkwan at Wonweol, had claimed to be a member of the pro-Watch camp of the council during his encounter with Jihoon. It still isn’t determined who his family is and why his stance is so firmly against the Hwarang. 

Hwan Minhyun, the man who had injured Soonyoung at Wonweol was also in attendance at the battle. While little more is known about him, he had claimed to be in allegiance with Hong Jisoo. 

And then there was Xu Minghao, who also fought along with the prior two men with little mention of his full allegiance.  

Whoever these men are, it’s clear to see that they’re no allies of the Hwarang. In fact, it seems as if they’re set to become one of their greatest enemies.  

The battle claimed the lives of thousands of men, the king ordering his garrison to behead any survivors they found. Even then, some Baekje loyalists were able to escape westward, further into the territory that used to be their homeland. With the end of the Ongsan Rebellion, the king passes an edict labeling any man that fought alongside the Baekje loyalists to be branded a traitor in the eyes of the Crown and an enemy of the court.  

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 8𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 With the events of the raid on Wonweol Inn and the Ongsan Rebellion taking place within only a few short weeks of one another, it was causing a certain unrest to take hold within citizens of Silla. The Hwarang are doing their best to double up on their work to make citizens feel protected, but with the return of most of the Guard and Watch, it’s difficult for them to receive missions as big as the raids and rebellion had been. And even if they are assigned a task, the Crown overworks them, seemingly wanting to bleed them dry.  

The Crown’s approval of any of their missions spreads them thin, even with the newer recruits they’d received from Podang and Gochang, it isn’t enough to keep an appropriate amount of people to instill peace. After many long and arduous meetings, it’s decided that Soonyoung, to slowly introduce him back into his role after his injury, will travel to Hanseong, one of Silla’s northernmost cities, to do preliminary scouting for future recruits.  

The burning sun hits your face as Youngmin and you see Soonyoung off, a bag slung around his shoulder having been packed the night prior.  

“I’ll be on my way now,” The Hwarang nods at the two of you, “Make sure no one gets in trouble while I’m away!” 

“I’ll try my best,” you smile at him. His presence would be missed at the headquarters, even if the other men didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

 “Find us a solid list of men, it doesn’t matter if they’re nobles or not,” Youngmin notes, putting his hand under his chin for a moment. “But seeing as it’s Gochang, you might encounter more nobles there than usual. I’ll join you there next month to see who you’ve recruited.” 

“Isn’t there someone who you’re looking for?” You turn to Youngmin, “I remember you mentioning someone once.” 

“Oh, did we not tell you?” Youngmin sounds a tad miffed, “His name is Kim Gongmyung. Classically trained and the rumor is that he’s very well versed in strategy.”  

“To be honest, I haven’t met him but only once or twice,” Soonyoung relents, “But at the least I’m sure he’ll let me speak to him.” 

“That’s all we need,” Youngmin nods with a small smile, “His father’s on our side in the king’s council, and if we approach him kindly, I’m sure it’ll be within his interest to help us.” The leader seems confident just by his facial expression, but there’s an air of unsureness coming from the younger Hwarang.  

“Alright, I’m going!” He lets that discontentment fall from his features seconds later, nodding his head before speaking. Soonyoung then turns to you, “I’ll do my best to find any information on Heo while I’m there, so just hang on until I get back!”

“Be careful!” You call out to him as he turns on his heels, bounding out from the main hall and towards the exit. As you watch him leave, and the smaller he seems to get the further he is from you and Youngmin, the more melancholy you feel. Youngmin looks different though, a small smile residing on his face as he watches the Hwarang set out. “You look excited, are you thinking of all the new members you’re getting?” 

“Of course, seeing our numbers increase is great. Even more so if they’re strong and able,” he says as Soonyoung finally disappears outside of the main entrance.  

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 27𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Time passes quickly after Soonyoung’s departure. So fast that the date of Youngmin’s departure for Hanseong arrives with little resistance. The morning before he’s meant to depart, you find him standing in one of the compound’s courtyards, quietly watching the wind pass through the leaves overhead. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask as you approach him quietly, not wanting to startle him.

 “Hm, oh, hello,” he looks at you with a small smile, “I’m alright, are you doing okay?” 

“I am,” you nod, “I’m just thinking about how you’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“I see,” he says with a short chuckle, “I can’t leave Soonyoung alone for too long, can I? Who knows what sort of trouble he’s already found himself in?” 

“I’m sure your absence here is going to affect the men like Soonyoung’s is,” you sigh out, already knowing the feeling of having such a pivotal character of the captains gone for nearly a month now. Youngmin is the Hwarang’s leader. If anything, this will be a larger blow than Soonyoung’s departure.

 “It’s only a month,” he tries to reassure you, “I’ve been gone for longer before. And besides, Jihoon will make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m away.” Youngmin probably isn’t aware that his kindness and Soonyoung’s strange but bright personality were things that kept you mentally intact day after day here. With both absent from the headquarters, you’re not sure what kind of emotional blow it’ll have on you. 

Your discontentment with the situation must have placated itself on your face because Youngmin looks at you now with a sad, small smile.  

“Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?” He questions in hopes that it might make you feel better, “I’m going to stop in Toehwa-hyeon on my way back, did you want a memento from your hometown?” 

“Oh no,” you shake your head, grateful for his offer, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

 “Are you sure?” Youngmin pushes a little more, “If there’s anything I can do for you, and as long as it’s within my power, I will.” You don’t want to ask any more of him, he’s so accommodating already that you’d just feel wrong in asking him to bring you something. 

“There is one thing…” You pause for a moment, “Could you train me?” 

“Are you-?” Youngmin’s brow furrows as he thinks of your statement, “Are you talking about fighting?”

 “I am,” you nod quickly.

 “Oh no… I think that would be a bad idea,” he sounds cautious, tentative, “I get really aggressive when I teach, if I ended up injuring you, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.” 

“I see…” You probably sound defeated, your shoulders shrugging downwards at his words.  

“But that statement came out of nowhere… Did you have a reason for asking?” 

“If I’m going to help watch over Shoshin while you’re gone, I want to be able to instead of hiding while everyone else puts in the effort.” 

Youngmin chuckles nervously at that sentiment, “But you’re not one of the warriors, so I doubt you’d ever have to raise your sword to an enemy.” 

“You’re right, but I still want to be able to protect myself if something were to happen,” you insist gently, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. 

Youngmin mulls it over for a moment before perking up into a smile, “Well, if that’s the case, I’d love to teach you a few things.” 

The leader runs around for a moment, returning to you with a pair of practice swords and two cords so you can tie up your sleeves without getting hindered by them. Rather than use the traditional wooden practice swords of the Hwarang, Youngmin’s opted for the lighter bamboo variant as to not accidentally injure you with the splintery cousin.  

“Let’s start,” he says as he stands beside you, his own bamboo sword raised outwards. “I’ll warn you though, the style we teach at the Kwak school and the Hwarang are a little… arduous.”  

“I’m ready,” you state firmly and raise your own bamboo sword out to the open space in front of you. 

“Then let’s begin with your stance,” he says, looking towards your feet with a scrutinizing gaze, “You mentioned you’d trained before, right?” 

“It was mostly for self-defense, but I was taught how to use the blade I have with me,” you say as you look down to your feet, trying to position them correctly.  

“Then I won’t have to worry about teaching you a new form,” he notes, “Just get into the stance you’re most comfortable with.” 

With the smooth grip of the practice sword in hand, you fall back into the stance you have memorized from all your practice sessions. Your hold on the hilt of the weapon tightens as you await instruction.  

“Too weak!” Youngmin shouts out, different from the calm tone his voice typically carries. “If someone’s coming from your front to attack you, the first thing they’ll reach is your sword and your arm. Tighten your grip more or they’ll knock the sword right out of your hand, be wary of that.” 

“Okay!” You nod and try to hold onto the sword even tighter, the knuckles on your hand beginning to ache with the strain. It was somewhat endearing to know that he isn’t treating you any differently because you’re a girl. 

“Now you’re holding on too tight,” he notices the tremble from the overworked muscles of your hand, watching the fake blade quiver in the air. “Because you’ll be a bit weaker than most you’ll ever fight against, you should try your best to avoid someone attacking you from the front. To do that you’ll need to dodge or redirect the blow from their sword, but since you’re holding onto it so tightly…” 

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Youngmin had begun his instruction, but the sun is hanging low in the sky now as you try and retain everything, he’s been teaching you. 

“It’s getting late.” He muses after you finish swinging the sword for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s cause enough for you to look up at the reds, oranges and purples that are beginning to saturate the sky. And almost as if you’re pulled from your training, fatigue sets into your bones and causes you to collapse to your knees. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, clothes dampened with sweat, your breath hollow as you try to suck in more air than your lungs allow you. 

Youngmin looks over to you as you collapse, his stern expression from training you softening to one of concern. “I’m sorry!” He says, a panicked tone overtaking him, “I got so into it that I pushed you way too hard!”

 “I’m fine,” you breathe out, offering him a weak smile, “You ended up teaching me like that even though I’m not your student, thank you.”  

“I see,” he doesn’t sound fully convinced, but the worried edge to his voice subsides a bit, “If that’s how you feel then I’m glad I could help.” His face holds a mixture of guilt and hesitation, though, “I am sorry, I haven’t fully trained someone in years, and I suppose I went a little overboard.” 

“You mean before you became the Hwarang’s leader?” You ask as you shakily rise to your feet. 

“Right,” he nods with a nostalgic smile, “Jihoon, Seungkwan, and Eunseok all attended my family’s school. Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu joined us afterwards, Hansol never fully joined but would stop by often. We don’t have time for it now, but we used to test our skills out against each other nearly every day.” 

The topic of the ‘old days’ often came up when the captains were tipsy or drunk on their alcohol. Youngmin’s father had been high up in the Crown’s council when he was alive, but later left to start up his own fighting school, much like Lee Alcheon had done. 

“All of that training must’ve been tough,” you wonder aloud. 

“It was,” Youngmin nods in agreement, “But it was fulfilling, in a different way than what our work is now.” He gazes off into nothing as he reminisces, causing a pang of envy to invade you for a moment.  

“Earlier you said you weren’t my student,” Youngmin says, looking at you, “Since I am technically a master of my family’s school, and I spent today training you… I think that more or less makes you a disciple of the style as well. That would make you a student like a few of the captains.” 

His words cause a smile to break out on your face, “Thank you.” Obviously, it isn’t an official method, and it was hardly a full day’s worth of instruction, but it made an unbridled happiness bubble within you. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve taught me today.”

enjoy what you read? leave a comment! it helps with motivating us writers to keep producing content for our lovely readers ❤

---