In which a simple lullaby leads an assassin to something he wishes to protect until the sky falls.
◤Disclaimers: from the world of 'The Songless Bird'. fluffy angst, yes, that's the genre... other than that there's death, blood, and mentions of violence and murder. actually sad at some point. this is an assassin au, I think.
◤Word count: 5.5K
◤From the author: you can read 'The Songless Bird' and its supplementary blurbs before reading this to understand the world better, but here's a point I'd like to clarify to avoid confusion. the Cage is a criminal group founded by the noble Han house, who use their power and money to fund and cover up for the group. since Jisung's father adopted the previous mc and Hyunjin and raised them to become assassins, the public knows them as "Jisung's siblings". so in other words, "Han Hyunjin" is what the public knows Hyunjin as, it's not a mistake!
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"Where are you going?" Jisung caught Hyunjin as he was about to leave the mansion, dressed in something other than his assassin's attire. He has been leaving the headquarters dressed normally like that for some weeks now.
The assassin turned to face his blond leader, slapping a fake smile on his face. "It's none of your business."
Jisung exhaled quietly, glaring at him before walking away wordlessly. While he was undoubtedly curious about the destination of Hyunjin's nightly visits, he knew better than to pester him about it. The assassin wasn't the kindest opponent to get in a fight with.
Sometimes, Jisung felt his position as the leader wasn't receiving the respect it should be getting.
But as he trudged back into his office, Hyunjin made his way to the stables, picking a horse and mounting it to the heart of the capital. An uncharacteristic smile rested on his lips as he estimated how long it would take him to reach the river splitting the city, or more specifically, to see you.
It was almost a silent agreement the two of you made; to meet up every night by the river. How it came to be, Hyunjin didn't know, but it started after you'd caught him hiding in the shadows one night.
He was roaming the rooftops aimlessly when he first heard your voice, a little gift carried by the wind.
"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream."
You reawakened a memory buried in the depths of his dark mind with your song. A splash of a past of peace and joy. His mother's warm embrace, long before it became lifeless, her rich voice, when it wasn't agonizing silence. His siblings' loud laughter, in contrast to the screams that plagued his mind. A time where he was just a normal kid.
He searched for the source of the sound to find you by the riverside, singing to an infant in your arms. The gentleness of your tone made him falter. How long had it been since he last heard such warmth? Too long, that he had to hold his breath and watch from the shadows in a trance.
