↱SEMPITERNAL↲ ⇾seongjoong⇽

twenty nine

105th year of Joseon, Mokpo

"I knew it."

Hongjoong hums, trailing behind him, eyes flitting and body tensing at every rustle of leaves and every birdcall.

"I knew something was off about that Hwang. These men aren't murderous, they never tried to kill any yangban. They only started a protest because they were starving, and their nobles weren't listening, I knew it."

"Yes."

"Is that all you can say?"

"You signalled for me to wait at the clearing, why did you do that?"

"I... I felt that it was not necessary for you to be there, " he says.

Fumbles.

"In the middle of the woods, in the darkness, following a man you do not know, you, with all your years on the training grounds, sensed no danger?"

"I cannot say that is true."

"You knew the dangers, and you still asked me to stay away?"

"Hongjoong."

"If I had not heard those voices, if I had not followed them, if I had not recognized
Minhyung and implored him to speak for you, what would have happened?"

"They would not have hurt me."

"How do you know?"

"They are good men!"

"I do not care if they are good or bad, men or rats, all I know is that there were ten swords at your neck and I was afraid."

"Look up," he says, his hands curling around Hongjoong's wrists. "Look at me."

He does, slowly.

"Were you not afraid?"

"I was, Hongjoong."

"Then why?"

"I was afraid of getting hurt, but thought of you getting hurt frightened me so much more," he says.

Seonghwa swears in that moment they could have been in a medicine room back in his home, back in Gongju.

The day he fell and hurt his knee and Hongjoong felt sick with the thought that it had been his fault.

He swears the years haven't passed and they're still the same, how much they care, how deeply they love, how afraid they are of loss.

The same quiet, the same half dark, the same fearful wandering into something new.

Hongjoong's face is pale and the set of his mouth is still firm, there isn't a hint of mirth anywhere in his eyes, and he dislikes that.

Seonghwa's grip tightens on his wrists.

"I am well," he says. "I am here."