THE PLACE YOUR HOME ROAMS/MINSUNG

PROLOGUE

Monday, 14th of March, 1855

   Outside the front door stood he, with a handkerchief in his hands as he cleaned his congressed boots dry. The said handkerchief was then placed inside his pockets, glancing at his boots as they shined. Off he went, along the miry streets, for he was soon met within the marrows of a forest. The trees and the green vestal atmosphere in the cold, early morning, the humidity that sent shivers down his bones even from the thin coat he wore. Inside his murse he carried a vain of books and novels, all to which spoke about countries a traveler would spend thousands of smile in the overseas and places far away from the human land; some that may seem impossible to get to. To his surprise did he love reading about them, thus he had heard so many things about them.

   Usually he didn't take long to get to school, but this early did his priorities lie in passing through the deep branches and boulevards. His shoes soaked in the mud. He knew his way by heart, took it as a vicinity of a handful adventure for each awakening day. But this- this was all new to him. He had never taken a longer road that lasted more than an hour. He knew it wasn't appropriate or formal, though to his commitment, was there no other way to have his way around. Jisung was transferring to a Catholic school. He knew for a fact, if presence was required enough, so was appearance; and for sure had he no devout, he was ready to be outspoken once again. Soon he was facing the front gates, but the field was empty. He noted in his thoughts how it matched with the monotonous sky above, but it was only just a big garden. He stopped on his tracks to notice how the building had large-sized windows, smaller ones once you glanced higher. It looked common, for such a school. He sank in a breath as he took a step forward, passing through the gates and entering the building.

   Inside his classroom stood the teacher in her desk. She showed no expression, as if she hadn't even realized his upcoming presence. Their eyes met and Jisung tensed as he stood still. He took a look around the room, where he too noticed how the students sat quiet in their place. A look appeared in his face, one he couldn't well describe. It came off as confused, even though he wasn't sure. The lady tilted her head and walked towards him, arms behind her waist as she looked into him suspiciously. Jisung gulped.

"Han Jisung, am i right?" She asked, stern but politely. Jisung half-nodded as he motioned his hand. The ederly took his own in her own, shaking it. A terrible instinct in his guts told him something was not right, as if he shouldn't even be there.

"Please," The boy insisted, "You shall call me Han" he said, forming an undescriptive smile. He pushed no further before he felt his mouth already dry, for when the clock was bound to hit nine.

   "You may take a seat" Hell, if he knew how to describe this observantly woman. He noticed how her eyes were dark like her hair, if not to be described black as the ink in his pens or the keening dead of night. She looked like god's nature, how her glasses were shown under the plain light of the day, and her dress stunningly put together by her corset. Her smile was rather warning than welcoming. He guided himself to an empty desk, followed by the bell ringing in his ears as he watched everyone stood up. The retrenching situation confused him but he followed along regardless, the students kneeling down on their knees as they closed their eyes like some exigent enthusiasts, mumbling words that Jisung didn't exactly catch, but he assumed it'd be a prayer. Hidden in the last desks of the classroom, as if forgotten, laid a boy fast asleep. Caught by the teacher's attention, she approached him. He looked unbothered, though he wouldn't be lying if he said the boy in mention didn't look like an outrageous mess with no manners.

   "Lee Minho!" She banged her fist into his table, now all the students's eyes on him. The blare made everyone flinch, as it sent a vibration to his own body, his eyes flickering wide open. He looked shocked and annoyed at the same time, Jisung couldn't read him. He assumed this might've not been the first time this was happening, considering how the teacher reacted. And he was right, soon after, when she started rambling.

   "Do you know what happens to students with behavior just like yours?" She hissed at him with fury, but the boy spoke no words. He looked back up to her eyes, the ones that shone under dimmed light full of anger. However, there was still silence. Even so, Jisung could tell how the blood in his veins boiled as he yet looked ambitiously disoriented. The woman leaned in closer to his face as if he had just made a peccant mistake. As if he had just disrespected god upon his duty.

The lady grabbed him provocatively by the shoulders as he pushed him down, making him fall down to his knees as he faced upright to her direction. Seconds before he knew was he hit, weeping in pain as he sobbed and wished to repay for his small mistake. At that point Jisung was not quite aware of the trouble he was getting into. He was left on the ground as vain as he looked like a dusted book and the teacher returned her face to the rest of the class.

"Back to your prayers." She said exigently.

Jisung scoffed.

How pitiful.

   Though in the night back to his home, where he'd claw his fingers on the edge of his bed looking back at the moon and hope for the devil to repent his sins, as if he perilled him for his vitality and fierce for his prayers, he was sure that he wanted to change the view of his perspective. Lee Minho. Who was he really? The name strangely planted inside his heart well. There was no point in hiding behind the shadows of your own if you are not planning on revealing your deepest secrets within. Jisung assumed that's what might've drawn him in, to the life of a person who he had known for a day only. The terror in his eyes looked like something he had yet seen before. He wished to know if he was capable of saving him. For the time being he cried, letting the tears roll down his cheekbones as he muffled his sounds in his pillows and waited for the daylight to arrive the next morning.

not edited.