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It’s You( It’s Always Been You)
The world was no stranger to soulmate marks.
They had been known about since the dawn of time. Popping up here and there for seemingly no reason at all. Not much was known about their origins, or how one got one. Some were born with one others were not but somehow gained one over time.
The marks took on many different shapes, from the first words your soulmate would speak to you to tattoos that could grow to cover almost your entire body. The latter being much more rare, as those had come to be associated with warriors throughout history.
Then, of course, some did not bear such a mark but were soulmates in their own right.
Two such people are The Plum Blossom Sword Saint, Cheong Myeong, and The Dark Saint, Tang Bo.
»•» 🌸 «•«
Cheong Myeong didn’t have a soulmate mark.
Not in his previous lifetime and not now in his current lifetime. He preferred it that way. He viewed such things as cumbersome and nothing more than a burden, since there was no guarantee that the person on the other side of the mark would even want you or if they were meant to be in your life at all.
They were fluid like that.
Enemies could share a mark if only because they were interconnected in a way that was foretold by fate, destined to always be on opposite sides of a conflict or even bound to take each other's lives.
It was all the same in Cheong Myeong’s eyes.
Not that anyone would want to be bound to someone like him for any reason.
For this very reason he had dismissed the appearance of a bruise on his forearm, the flesh discolored and tender to the touch. Even knowing what he did about the occurrence of the marks and how some of them came to be.
He had written it off as just that: a simple bruise.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Even if he hadn’t remembered getting harmed or even hit that day. But then again, it’s not like he would have registered it either, so he shook it off. But then, as the days wore on and he trained the other disciples and trained himself, monitoring the spot, he realized that the bruise hadn’t gone anywhere.
If anything it had gotten bigger , slowly expanding and taking up more space on his arm. Alarm bells had rung in his head then in a distant sort of way but he refused to panic, still believing it to be just a bruise.
‘It’s just a bruise.’
He brushed it off, even as he felt his skin burn.
‘It’s just a bruise.’
He reminded himself, even when the appearance of ink started to show itself. ( his soulmate was growing stronger.)
‘It’s just a bruise.’
A line this time, like a painter came and made a quick but decisive stroke.
It had gotten to the point where even the others were taking notice of it, their concern noticeable even though they attempted to hide it. Most likely in fear of him retaliating in the face of their unwanted concern, forcing him to wrap bandages around his arm, hiding the purplish-bluish skin away from prying and worried eyes.
‘ It’s not just a bruise.’ A traitorous part of his brain whispered.
He pointedly ignored the burning sensation and continued to swing his sword, determined to ignore his ever-growing problem.
He just couldn’t fathom him—of all people— being given a mark. Maybe it was because the mark itself invoked some sort of feeling within him, almost as if the sudden appearance was a betrayal, an offense worse than any crime he could possibly commit.
A betrayal against him.
But he quickly shook off such thoughts lest he drag his demons from his past to his present. But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, he was forced to confront his repressed feelings.
The mark itself had grown a healthy amount, the person on the other side no doubt making remarkable progress in their training.
They were strong, he knew that much at least. But with every new mark that appeared, the tattoo slowly becoming more and more fleshed out as the days wore on, he couldn’t stop the feelings of anger from rising.
He didn’t want one.
He didn’t need one, and yet in a cruel twist of fate, he was given something that he had not asked for, for he knew— he knew —that the one on the other side of this wasn’t who he wanted it to be.
They just couldn’t be.
And for that reason alone it made him feel unimaginable feelings of anger and resentment and sorrow and anguish.
How ironic, wasn’t it? He was given a new chance at life and with it a chance to potentially find a kindred spirit in someone else, but it had come at a time when it was unwanted and frankly frustrating.
There was only one person in both this lifetime and the previous who he would call his soulmate and that man was no longer of this world.
He laughed bitterly, looking up at the sky, his mind drifting off to a time long ago.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
“ Hyung-nim?” Tang Bo’s soft murmur broke the comfortable silence. His hands delicately and skillfully working through the knots and tangles in Cheong Myeong’s hair.
They were currently at the Tang’s estate, the bathhouse was devoid of any others due to the late hour, giving them free rein of the place and allowing them to drop all pretenses.
The smell of lavender and incense filled the steamy air, the slight hint of tea and honey weaving throughout, permeating the space. Creating an intimate atmosphere, with the bathhouse’s sole occupants being the two warriors.
“Hm?” he responded, keeping his eyes closed, completely at ease in the trustworthy hands of Tang Bo.
“ Do you ever wish you had a soulmate?” Cheong Myeong’s eyes snapped open, caught off guard by the sudden question. It took a moment to process before an irritated scowl replaced the once serene expression on his face, “ What nonsense are you spouting now, brat?” Came his gruff response.
He felt the other chuckle a bit nervously, “ I was just thinking, Hyung-nim and I are one of the few warriors that don’t have soulmates.”
“ Yeah, so what?” he pressed.
He felt the other still behind him, causing him to turn around to face him. The other’s face was contorted into something unreadable, a faraway look in his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at the other in a silent question.
“ It’s nothing, Hyung-nim…” Tang Bo trailed off, casting his eyes to the side, not meeting the other’s eyes, “ I was just curious.”
They stood there in silence for a bit before Tang Bo gently urged the other to turn back around so that he could finish washing his hair.
Wordlessly, Cheong Myeong turned back around, allowing Tang Bo to continue washing his hair, pondering the question that Tang Bo had asked him. He had never really thought about having a mark, the thought that someone could be bound to him and him to them leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
He didn’t want to be tied to anyone like that. Especially when he knew that having a mark didn’t automatically guarantee that the person on the other side was good for him or even an ally of his.
Having a mark, to him, was like being locked up in a cell, he couldn’t escape it, and no matter what, he would always be tied to that person.
Whether he liked it or not.
That sounded like its own type of hell, one he would like to forgo if he could. And it seems that the heavens knew he would hold such reservations since he was born without one, and in his almost century of living, he had never manifested one either.
He could feel the younger man fidget despite himself, clearly feeling anxious due to the stretched-out silence in the wake of his question.
He thought about why the other would ask him such a question, thinking back to what he knew about the man in the decades that he had been with him.
Tang Bo was washing the soap out of his hair when he finally spoke up, “ Bo-ya?” He called out to him in an uncharacteristic soft voice, one specifically reserved for Tang Bo as he turned around once more to face him.
Viridian green meets crimson, neither of them saying a word waiting for the other to speak up.
Cheong Myeong was never good with this kind of stuff. He was rough around the edges and lacked a certain type of finesse that was required for this sort of thing.
Not to mention his utter inability to express or communicate his feelings.
Not that Tang Bo ever held such a thing against him.
He was much more of an ‘actions speak louder than words’ person anyway.
He reached out, letting his hand come up to tenderly tuck a piece of hair behind the doctor’s ear. A small gesture, maybe, but it was more than enough to communicate what Cheong Myeong lacked in words with actions.
‘Talk to me.’
It seems that the message was heard loud and clear as a small smile broke out on the other’s face. Tang Bo reached his hand up to his, pulling it away from his face and weaving their fingers together.
He saw the other hesitate, “ It’s nothing Hyung-nim, really. Forget I said anything.” He tried to reassure him in a soft voice.
The swordsman stared at the other,
‘Liar’
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Tang Bo was quite the peculiar child. Being from one of the main branches of the Tang Clan, albeit, one of the lesser-known ones, caused the boy to have many eyes on him, all the time.
Many were curious about just who the boy would grow into. Would he become a doctor? Or perhaps he would strive to become a master in their clan’s martial arts, maybe to live up to his ancestor who he was named after.
So many possibilities, so much potential.
But to everyone’s shock, including the boy's parents, the boy turned out to be none of those things. He was quiet and his eyes had become hollow ever since he’d learned about the fate of the late Plum Blossom Sword Saint.
He didn’t wish to become a doctor or study their ancient martial arts, no, the boy preferred to be locked away in his room, hidden away from the world.
Almost as if he was silently grieving.
If anyone was to see him out and about they would see him collecting a variety of items, trinkets, food, and wine, he’d even go as far as to request the kitchen to make mooncakes. Many whispered of a shrine that he worshiped, one he made to honor the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.
No one knew where his obsession with the swordsman came from and none dared to question him either. Tang Bo had gone as far as to sneak some of the family heirlooms, taking some of the things belonging to their ancestor.
When the Elder Tang had confronted the other, demanding that he return the daggers and the hairpin. Stripping him of his ancestor’s daggers, but the moment they attempted to take the hairpin from him, the boy lashed out at them.
Demonstrating a level of skill that he shouldn't even possess due to both his lack of knowledge and his lack training. But here he was performing even better martial arts than even Tang Gunak’s sons, much to the confusion and surprise of everyone who had witnessed the scene.
The boy fended them off with a feral expression as he clenched the hairpin within his grasp, muttering things like– “No, no, you can’t have this, it’s mine. And “ It’s mine, he gifted it to me. You can’t have it.”
Now under any other circumstances, they would forcefully take the object away from him, regardless of his wishes, however, the look of complete and utter anguish as well as the potent and oppressive feeling of murderous intent kept them from doing so.
The young Tang had never expressed such strong emotion before, always either dismissive or unresponsive to those who sought to chat with him or those who spent too long in his presence.
So this emotional display caught them all off guard and in the end, Tang Gunak decided that the boy could keep the hairpin, and with his decision came the almost immediate relief from the boy’s oppressive force.
The Tang family learned that day that there were many things that you could do and not earn the ire of the young Tang, however, with as much killing intent he had exhibited, not only to other Tang members but to the Clan Head himself, showed that the boy did not care about who they were or how high they were in terms of status or position.
If it involved anything like his shrine that he built, or that hairpin that despite not belonging to him truthfully. Since it belonged to their ancestor, he was willing to go to war behind it.
And even though he was not trained in their martial arts, all the people there just had a nagging suspicion in their minds that that didn’t matter, he could still beat any one of them, just based on the sheer level of presence he was capable of exhibiting.
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100 years
It had been 100 years since the end of the war against the Demonic Cult and the death of his Hyung-nim.
100 years.
100 years.
100 years.
100 years.
Those two words had rung in his head for days after he had snuck into the library and grabbed as many history books as he possibly could, determined to figure out just what the hell was going on.
He had ripped the pages out in rage and despair when he learned of his Hyung-nim's fate.
He had been given a second chance at life, something that he was sure many people in his position would kill for.
But he was brought back into a world where his Hyung-nim, his partner in crime, his lover, his other half, was not. His other half who had died protecting a world who then turned around and took and took and took until his Hyung-nim’s sect had fallen.
His Hyung-nim had died alone and with no one to even remember his name. Nor of the numerous other sacrifices he had made for the protection and survival of the world.
So what point was there?
Why was he brought back when the only person he would have wanted to see was no longer of this world anymore?
Sure he could help better his clan, write some of the wrongs of his past, he could possibly become even stronger than he had been in his previous life, capable of beating even that bastard Chenoma.
But what point was there in seeking personal betterment when the one he would have wanted there to help drive him, the one that he would want to do it with, would not be able to see it?
None.
He could practically hear the man from beyond the grave chastising him for being so soft and saying things like— ‘ I am not and was not afraid of death. Life goes on with or without me.
So do us both a favor and move on. There’s no point in allowing the death of someone to stop you in your tracks. You might as well roll over and die if that’s what you do when faced with the universal truth that everyone dies.
Including those you care about.’
He pictured the man shrugging, ‘ It’s the one thing all of us have in common. When everyone's on their own individual paths, heading for somewhere different from the rest, we all ultimately wind up at the same destination.’
‘ But what if I don’t want to move on?’
…
‘ Then at least find something useful to do with your life. Don’t just throw it away, if you insist on being the stubborn fucking leech that you are, then find a way to honor my memory since it’s so damn precious to you.’
So he would grieve, he’d mourn the only person in the entire world who was capable of changing the entire trajectory of his life, the light in his life.
His reason for being…
In the wake of his absence and the now ever-present feeling of his heart missing, he would dedicate this new life to honoring his memory and keeping it alive.
‘ That’s the least I can do.’
And with that, he distances himself from his family.
While he did not hate them nor did he wish them any ill will, when he found out that his Clan had done nothing to stop Mount Hua from collapsing, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of resentment towards them.
Not the children, of course, he was still distant with them but he was never unkind.
He did take to staying in his room all day, not feeling like doing anything else unless it involved doing the bare minimum to keep this new body of his alive. He dismissed his parent’s attempts to get him to do anything related to the Clan, whether it be studying poisons, or training, or even learning the basics of medicine.
He declined them all.
His parents didn’t like that at first, his father yelling at him to try and force into lessons. But Tang Bo simply did not care.
It was hard to get him to care about anything nowadays…
Eventually his parents gave up on their futile attempts to get him involved, and started to ignore him instead. He almost felt bad for this previous body’s owner since his parents clearly only saw him as a means to boost their own standing within the clan. Even going as far as to name him after the Dark Saint himself.
He could only imagine the amount of pressure this boy was under before he took control of his body…
Whatever, it’s not like any of that matters now.
For now he’d just have to be content with worshiping at the feet of the shrine he had built in his Hyung-nim’s honor and staying inside all day. Bringing all sorts of things that he knew his Hyung-nim would like and placing it at the altar.
He had half a mind when he had come back to go out and search for Cheongmyeong’s body, but after 100 years he was sure he would find nothing but bones in his Hyung-nim’s resting place.
And he knew that the other wouldn’t appreciate it if he went searching for century old bones, so he thought building a shrine, decorating it with anything he saw fit, and pouring out a cup for him whenever Tang Bo had the urge to drink was enough.
He really missed his Hyung-nim.
At some point over the years, a mark had begun to form on his left forearm. It started off as a small bruise, one that he easily overlooked, but almost overnight the bruise had changed.
Morphing into more of an actual mark, at first it was just black lines inked into his skin, hardly much of anything really since whatever picture it was meant to be hadn’t fully developed yet.
How ironic, the time he is blessed with a soulmate mark is given to him at a time that he doesn’t want it.
How cruel of the world to give him something like this given the circumstances…
He stared down at the intricate black lines, staring at the patches of pink that started to appear, his hand coming up to graze the skin before he looked back up at the shrine he’d built. He sighed, grabbing another wine bottle and drinking straight from it.
‘Whatever, it’s not like I’ll meet this soulmate any time soon .’
He laughed mirthlessly,
‘ Looks like I got that soulmate mark after all, Hyung-nim.’
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Tang Bo was taking one of his rare strolls around the estate when he heard a couple of the servants whisper about Mount Hua’s unexpected comeback and despite himself, he stopped to listen in on their conversation.
“ Did you hear? I heard they beat the Zhongnan Sect in their annual tournament.” One asked.
He heard the other gasp, “Really?”
“ Mhm, it is even rumored that they were beaten by a third generation disciple. A single one, at that.”
“ No way,”
“ Yes way, they are dubbing that disciple ‘ The Divine Dragon of Mount Hua .’” Tang Bo felt his ears perk up at the mention of such raw talent, his mind conjuring up a familiar face and crimson red eyes.
“He is said to show great promise in being able to usher in a new era for the disgraced sect. But I think that's an exaggeration.
There’s no way a third generation disciple—a child no less—could do that.
I mean no one has seen that level of pure raw talent since—“
‘The Plum Blossom Sword Saint.’ his thoughts supplied him.
His mind riled with the information, his breath quickening as he soaked it in.
“ And that disciples' name?” The other inquired.
“ Cheong Myeong .”
Everything stopped and Tang Bo could hear a faint ringing in his ears as the name embedded itself in his brain, taking root like a weed.
‘ Cheong…Myeong ?’
He felt his heart stutter behind his ribcage, as if at any moment his heart would beat out of his chest from the sheer force at which it was beating. He felt a wave of emotions wash over him; disbelief and relief—and for the first time in a long time, he feels hope .
‘ Hyung-nim is that you?’
‘ Are you here as well?’
»•» 🌸 «•«
Cheong Myeong was and has been acting strange for the past couple of months. He has been more snappy than usual, being even more harsh when it came to the disciple’s training, Beak Cheon being his Sahyung and being somewhat close to his sajae, knew that his actions were born more out of unease and anxiety than anything else.
More confusing was that no one knew why.
He was fine, acting as his usual bratty and, frankly, rude self but then something happened and his whole demeanor has flipped. Beak Cheon has seen the other outside late into the hours of the night, a bottle of alcohol in his hand. Chugging down the bitter drink like it was water with a strangely wistful expression on his face.
It was then that he was reminded that his sajae, for as wise, powerful, and strong willed as he was, was still just a boy at the end of the day.
It was easy to forget, especially since he just carried himself with an air of wisdom and acted like someone much older than he actually was. Like he had been here before and was returning after some time away for a bit.
He could be hurt, he could experience pain, as much as he tried to brush it off and put up a tough front in front of everyone, but he knew. He knew that there was more to him than just his mischievousness and cunning. That beneath it all there was a fragile person under all that bravado and seemingly unfathomable strength.
His brother was a complicated person, and like this, seated out on the rooftop of one of the buildings in the sect, with plum blossoms falling all around him and an almost sentimental, nostalgic expression coloring his features as he seemingly transported to a different place.
A different time.
A better time, a time that only he was familiar with.
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“ I think something is going on with Cheong Myeong.” Everyone at the table ceased the conversations they were having to point their attention to Beak Cheon, all of them giving him a blank stare, clearly confused.
It made him fidget a bit before he rushed to clarify, “ I just mean that he’s seemed more distant these past couple of months. He always disappears after training now and doesn’t come to eat with us as he usually does. Then there’s that bandage on his arm now and–why are you all looking at me like that?” He stopped half way through his rant, casting nervous glances to the people around the table. The one to break the awkward silence was Yoo Iseol, dropping a bombshell.
“ I saw a mark on his arm.”
The entire table was silent, their brains working to process the new information. But as soon as it did all hell broke loose.
“ A mark? A mark? A MARK?!” Jo Gul leaped from his seat, slamming his hands on the table in front of him, “ You’re saying that that brat potentially has a soulmate mark?” He questioned, his mouth agape.
“ Close your mouth, you’re catching flies.” Yunjong scolded Jo Gul, making the other snap his jaw close with a harsh ‘clunk’ sound.
Beak Cheon was the first to recover to—somewhat—ask calmly, “ And when did you see this supposed mark?”
Yoo Iseol seemed to take a moment to think about it, “ I think it was a few months ago that I saw it.”
“What did it look like?”
“ Like…vines, roots of some sort, crawling up his arm. That’s what it looked like.”
Alarm bells started ringing in everyone’s mind, “ Like the side effects of–like–some type of poison?” Yunjong asked, concern furrowing his brows.
Their Sajo shook her head calmly, “ No no, as I said, it was a mark.”
…
Jo Gul spoke up after the beat of silence, “ So, let me get this straight, Cheongmyeong, the mad dog, has somehow manifested a soulmate mark? That’s what you’re saying?”
Another nod.
The former threw his arms up in frustration, “ How is it that BRAT has managed to get one before the rest of us did? Huh? Like how is that fair?”
“ I wonder what type of person our sajae’s soulmate is.” Yumjong mused out loud.
“ I bet they’re also some madman just like him.” Jo Gul shuddered, no doubt picturing someone who is just as crazy as their sajae.
Yunjong shook his head in disagreement, “ Or this person is the polar opposite of him and somehow manages to tame him.”
Jo Gul turned to give his brother a look like he had grown another head, “ Hah? You really think that someone could tame–him?”
“ I think we are losing sight of what is truly important;” Baek Cheon interjected, “ Cheongmyeong has been acting strange since, most likely, the appearance of this mark. He must not like it.” He speculated.
The others tilted their heads, “ Why wouldn’t he?”
“ I mean–I don’t know! I’m just making sense of what is going on with him based on what we know.”
“ You’re probably right,” Yunjong agreed, “ but I don't think that he would come to us anytime soon since he hasn't already.”
“ Maybe he’s embarrassed?” Yo Iseol suggested
“ You really think that Cheong Myeong can feel embarrassed?”
“ The point is, our sajae is clearly going through something and he hasn’t come to us yet. Now what do we do to cheer him up?”
“ I don’t think we can if he doesn’t come to us first or intentionally seek out our comfort.”
The mood at the table turned a bit somber.
“ Well then let’s just hope that, in due time, he does. But in the meantime, let’s try not to give him so much flak, okay?” Beak Cheon declared.
“ Spoken like the true righteous sword of Mount Hua.” Jo Gul teased, the tense atmosphere lifting. The table going back to their regular shenanigans.
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Cheong Myeong chuckled at nothing particularly from where he was perched on one of the many roofs in the sect, his gaze on the horizon, watching as the sky shifted into different hues; the sun setting in the distance casting an almost heavenly glow over the sect.
He took a moment to soak in the beautiful scene.
He had taken such things for granted in his previous life, always dismissing such things as mundane and as sights that he would always be able to see.
Such a fool he was…
He slowly opened his eyes before they drifted to the bandage on his arm, his hand coming up to touch it gingerly.
It was starting to look like something now.
Whoever his soulmate is was making remarkable progress as his arm hadn’t stopped burning for the better part of a month now, the sensation starting to make its way into his chest. It seemed like everyday a new stroke would appear or a dash of green.
The black strokes no longer looked like just strokes made on his skin but instead looked like vines, roots, or stems(?), steadily growing up his forearm, much like a plant.
It was only a matter of time before it covered his arm completely.
He took a moment to allow the reality of his situation to soak in.
He wasn’t completely sure how he felt about it now, having a soulmate that is. He still viewed it as an unnecessary burden but at the same time…
He was starting to find comfort in its existence.
Sure, he would rather die again at the hands of that bastard Cheonma than be tied down to someone. But he could admit…
It was sometimes nice to think that there was someone out there who was potentially his match.
His other half, no matter how much it pained him to even think of another person in such a way that wasn’t Tang Bo.
But by god, he was lonely.
He could only connect with the others so much and as much as he would like to tell them everything, to rid himself of this loneliness, he knew he couldn’t take such a risk.
Even if he did tell them, they still wouldn’t be able to fully understand him nor would they be able to fully rid him of this feeling anyways.
Because at a base level, him and them were different. Not only in age, both physically and mental, but also due to their varying life experiences.
There was just too wide a gap between him and them that would never fully be closed, no matter what they tried.
It was just better for him to leave things as they were.
But in the same vein, his soulmate wouldn’t be able to completely rid himself of his loneliness either. Since the one he wanted…wouldn’t be here with him…
Pulling himself away from his thoughts, he looked down at the bandage, his gaze lingering on it before he almost instinctively removed the bandage, removing it with a practiced ease that was only befitting of someone who was accustomed to applying and removing bandages.
It seemed that his soulmate had just made quite the big leap in his progress since now it seemed like whatever it was, was beginning to bloom. In what appeared to be…ivy?
Ivy leaves?
His mark hadn’t grown to be just a straight line on his right arm but more of a spiraling pattern, winding and winding around his flesh before disappearing into his still robe-covered chest.
But ivy leaves?
That was frighteningly familiar to him. But it couldn’t be? Could it? It could just be ivy leaves, but ivy leaves?
Cheong Myeong didn’t believe in coincidence.
But it couldn’t be?
Could it?
He let out a half hysterical laugh, ‘ Ahh, it appears I’ve finally gone mad, Sahyung.’
He looked up towards the sky, almost as if he would hear a response. He continued to stare at the darkening sky for a bit longer before allowing his attention to go back to watching the sunset.
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The Tang Prodigy, he was called.
Whispers of a young man who, in the last two years, was displaying unprecedented levels of skill and prowess.
In his earlier years, he was known to be a recluse, preferring to stay in his room all day, doing what? Nobody knew, but then suddenly out of nowhere, he expressed interest in his Clan’s ancient martial arts.
After that he took off.
Besting even the Clan Head’s sons in both martial arts and poison usage.
He was said to be one of the greatest fighters of this current generation alongside The Divine Dragon of Mount Hua.
And of course, as humans do, they gossiped, their tales and speculations reaching far and wide. Some told stories of them encountering the young talent. He was shameless, and charming. Able to weave both flattery and insults together like the finest of silk garments. Hiding his true intentions in plain sight.
He was a person who enjoyed the fighting, the violence of it all, craved it even.
There were others who spoke of his fighting style.
A whirlwind of movement, precision, and quick movements. Using daggers and his body to his advantage to overwhelm his opponents. And with startling efficiency, taking them out just as quick, before they can even think of a counterattack.
Many spoke about how he seemed to wander the lands, searching for a worthy opponent. At Least until his family decided to call him home for whichever reason.
As a Tang he wore the signature Tang green attire, with his hair styled in a neat half up half down style, with a distinctly pink hairpin holding his hair in place.
And didn’t that sound familiar?
That atop of his fighting style, the techniques that he demonstrated…
It was all achingly familiar to a certain swordsman.
Hearing about this mysterious man, he felt a ping of hope, maybe this was a confirmation—the universe’s way of telling him that the man he loved—still loves, was out there somewhere just waiting for him.
But he refused to allow his thoughts to stray too far in that direction. He denied himself, rejecting the notion as something his mind had conjured up in an attempt to give him something to hope for.
But he didn’t want to hope.
Hope was dangerous, hope could be worse than just accepting the reality of the situation.
Hope was debilitating.
Hope was paralyzing.
And if allowed himself to—if he got caught up in the what-ifs and the what-could've-been, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to put himself back together again.
»•» 🌸 «•«
Tang Soso had met her cousin on a rainy day.
She had run away from her family, tears of anger rushing down her cheeks. She had ran and ran and ran until she had reached a part of the residence she didn’t recognize.
It wasn’t fair! How come she had to be tied down to someone whom she didn’t even want? A man that she has never known? Her only real saving grace was the fact that maybe. Just maybe, the man to whom she was promised would not treat her badly. That he would still allow her the freedom to do as she pleased rather than treat her like some glorified doll.
Meant to be seen but not heard.
She had ran and ran and ran until she had reached a part of the residence she didn’t recognize, coming to a stop in front of one of the many ponds that the residence had. Her cries were reduced to small sniffles as she took a seat right at the edge, staring down at her reflection and watching as the fish swam about in the clear water. Wishing that she could become one and live her life as she pleased.
She had completely dismissed the presence of another, standing to her right. She must’ve sat there for a long moment before the figure reached out to tap her on her shoulder, startling her. She instinctively put her hands up, ready to strike if need be. She saw the man–or the boy–since looked to be around her age, if a bit younger as he put his hands up, a gesture to signal to her that he was no threat.
He offered her a sheepish smile, “ Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He started, slowly lowering his hands once he realized he was in no real danger of getting hit.
“ You didn’t startle me…” She mumbled weakly, turning her attention back to the swimming fish. She heard him chuckle softly, “ Whatever you say.” he said softly.
They sat there in silence for a bit while she just stared at the fish, trying to reign in her emotions. Finally, the other broke the silence, “ If you don’t mind me asking, what made you so upset that you ran all the way out here?”
She glanced at the other, taking the time to take in his appearance. He was wearing the traditional Tang robes, with half of his chestnut hair pulled up into a bun, secured by a pink hairpin. She could barely make out the engravings on it but what she did recognize was the plum blossom pattern that had been engraved in it.
She looked away, pondering whether or not to answer his question. It wasn’t like it was secret in the clan that she was highly opposed to getting married off, in any circumstances. So what harm was there in telling this relative about it?
She opened her mouth to respond– “ I–I’m, the clan Elders, they want to marry me off, and they keep trying to arrange these suitors for me. My father keeps stalling it but I think one day they might succeed…and I–” She cut herself off with her sobs. Curling into herself as she just cried.
She could see out of her peripheral that the other was a bit at a loss as to what to do with a ten year old girl crying in front of him.
He hesitated for a bit before one of his warm hands settled on one of her shoulders, a grounding presence.
“ Hey, it’s okay, don’t cry.” He murmured softly to her. “ You don’t have to worry about that, promise.” Now that had gotten her attention, she sniffed a bit, raising her head to look at the other.
“ How can you be so sure?”
He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “ I have my ways of knowing…” he said simply.
His smile turned into something a bit more soft, “ Don’t worry little one, it’ll all work out. I’m certain.” He reassured her.
And for some reason, she believed him.
“ Now,” he started, “ That was quite the emotional exchange so let’s back up a bit, I’m Tang Bo. And you are?”
“ Tang Soso.”
The boy seemed to consider her words for a second before responding, “ We’re cousins, aren’t we?”
She nodded.
“ And I’m older than you?”
She frowned in confusion. “ Aren’t you younger than—“
“ —And as your older cousin—“
“—you’re just gonna ignore what I was about to say—“
“—it’s my duty to act somewhat like an older brother to you. Even if you already have plenty of those…” he continued on like she wasn’t talking.
‘ This guy…’
He smiled at her again, “ So, if I may, can I call you Soso-ya?”
The girl frowned, unused to being called something so familiar outside of parents and brothers. But as the young girl stared at the younger boy, his smile was oh-so soft and genuine.
She nodded again, watching as the boy’s smile widened.
She felt her own lips turn upward.
And the rest was history.
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It was three years later when Tang Soso asked Tang Bo about the shrine he had in his room.
They were in one of the many rooms in the Tang residence, this just so happened to be the room that the two Tangs occupied most whenever the younger of the two was training the older.
They were seated at one of the large desks, scrolls, papers, and books strewn about on its surface. Tang Bo currently had her researching a type of medicinal plant. She could feel her brain melting out her ears the longer the other continued to talk, only catching bits and pieces of what he was saying which sounded incredibly complex and WAY to advance for him to even know about.
“ So this plant can be both a poison and medicine. It all depends on the situation. However, making it into either of the two is a long and lengthy process, with a whole bunch of steps and some more complicated techniques. Which is why we won’t get into today but surely later–you know–when you have a much firmer grasp on it, we will circle back around and–”
She couldn’t take it anymore! She felt like her brain might explode from the sheer amount of information he just dropped on her all at once. So she just up and blurted out something to get him to stop talking.
“ Why do you have a shrine in your room?” she froze the moment her question left her mouth. Staring at her cousin with barely concealed fear. The last time she had asked him such a personal question, he had smiled at her cooly and had her dodging daggers for hours.
She shivered thinking of the menacing yet unhinged glint in his eyes as he threw dagger after dagger at her. She braced herself for her unfortunate fate, closing her eyes and leaning away from the man.
When she was met only with silence she slowly opened one of her eyes, taking a peek at the other. She found that the younger Tang had a deep and almost mournful expression on his face. He seemed lost in other memories, memories from long ago. He broke out of–whatever he was in directing his attention back to her.
“ Just so I can remember…”
“ Remember what?”
He smiled sadly at her, not answering her question. She tilted her head to the side in confusion.
Her cousin really was strange, wasn’t he?
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Plum blossoms.
His mark was plum blossoms.
He was not quite sure when he realized that fact, nor when his mark had changed this much to depict them, but…
Plum blossoms.
If he needed any more proof that his hyung-nim was out there,somewhere.
Then this was it.
The black strokes from before had morphed into the arms of branches that stretched across his arm, starting to take up space on his torso. And the spots of pink had turned into those beautiful flowers that he loved so.
He brought a hand up, his fingers tracing the shape of his tattoo. He marveled at it, almost completely mesmerized by the intricate yet simple design.
He had once told Cheong Myeong that he would get a tattoo to represent him. Joked and teased about the different things he could get and one of them being a plum blossom tattoo.
He had earned himself a hard hit on the head for his suggestion.
In the end they ended up getting matching hair accessories.
A handmade pink hairpin, with an intricate plum blossoms pattern engraved into for him and a silk green ribbon with an gold ivy design woven into the material for his Hyung-nim.
His hand subconsciously went up to grasp his hairpin. It was still in good condition despite it having been such a long time between his death and his rebirth. His family had gone to great lengths in order to keep it intact as well as all his other things.
He silently thanked them, knowing it would have hit him much harder if he was unable to wear one of the few things Cheong Myeong gifted him.
His Hyung-min wasn’t one for gifts, neither gifting or receiving. He had the nagging suspicion that it was because he was never really given the opportunity to own anything for himself.
Everything he got was to be for the benefit of his brothers and sisters rather than for himself. Not to mention his disdain for flashy, over the top, gifts. He could vividly recall his Hyung-nim complaining about how worthless such gifts were.
Which made choosing a gift for him even harder because what was Tang Bo if not dramatic?
But Cheong Myeong had no use for such things, he had said so himself. He preferred the simplicity and usefulness of something more than anything.
Tang Bo was at a loss for weeks as he couldn’t figure out for the life of him what to get the older man. Until one day when they had woken up and Cheong Myeong was unable to find the ribbon he usually used to tie his hair.
Without thinking, Tang Bo had offered the other the one he kept on hand in the folds of his robe. He watched on in barely contained fondness and adoration as a faint flush graced the other’s cheeks.
The other had grabbed it quickly, turning around, no doubt in an effort to obscure the younger’s view of the rapidly growing blush on his face. He had chuckled then, endlessly enamored with the man in front of him.
He had moved up behind him once he was done tying his hair up, wrapping his arms around his waist. Looking at him through the mirror placed in front of them— ‘ You know, you look good in green.’
He saw the blush on Cheong Myeong's face deepen. He was met with a glare, though there was no real animosity behind it, “Hah, what are you saying, brat?”
He made a sound of mock offense, “ What, I can't just compliment you?”
The other squinted his eyes at him, suspicious, “ No, especially since you never just compliment me…” the blush deepened again, moving up to his ears.
Tang Bo suppressed a laugh.
“ So callous, hyung-nim.” He whined, subtly tightening his arms, “ And right after I complimented you too.” He sulked.
The younger was met with a deadpan look, he huffed, “ but I meant exactly what I said; you look good in green.” He repeated, taking glee in the low grumbles of protest he heard.
‘His hyung, so unused to genuine praise.
Never change, hyung-nim.’
Cheong Myeong’s face looked more like a cherry as he bent down the small distance to whisper in his ear—“ It suits you.” He felt the other shiver in his hold, before unexpectedly—or expectedly—he felt a kick to his shin.
“ Ow! Hyung-nim, what you do that for?” He yelped, letting him go in the process, staring at the other as he held a fist up menacingly. His face still flushed.
“ Shameless bastard!” He scolded him, “We have to be somewhere in like an hour!”
“ What are you saying we don’t have time to—wait! Don't hit me again, hyung-min. I deeply apologize! Please!” He pleaded, holding his hands up in surrender.
The other’s fist was held high in the air, waiting to come down hard on Tang Bo’s head. He put on his best puppy dog eyes, watching how Cheong Myeong’s resolve crumbled.
He let his hand drop, muttering—“ Shameless, perverted bastard..”
“ Only for you~” Tang Bo teased, instantly regretting it as he felt an oppressive aura.
“ Oh? So you want me to hit again? Maybe that’ll teach you…” The other mused threateningly.
“ No! No! We’re good. Promise you don’t need to do that…” he laughed nervously.
He ended up getting his ass beat but it was worth it.
He smiled at the memory.
From that day on Cheong Myeong wore that ribbon. Even when he found the old one he had, he chose to wear them both, wrapping the green one around the white one.
He remembered how much it filled him with pride to know that his other half was out there proudly wearing and showing off something that Tang Bo had given him.
Then Cheong Myeong lost it…
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
The Dark Saint watched as his partner tore up their shared room, cursing and muttering something under his breath.
“ Um, Hyung-nim?” He called out, attempting to get the other’s attention. The person in question either ignored his call or simply didn’t hear him since he was so focused on finding…whatever he was trying to find.
He tried again, “ Hyung-nim?”
Still no reply.
He was just about to try again when the man unexpectedly threw his hands up in frustration, “ Ugh! I can’t find it!”
“ Find what?”
Cheong Myeong looked at him then, he looked like he was almost on the verge of crying if the slight pink around his eyes and the flushing of the tip of his nose was anything to go by.
“ Your ribbon! The one you gave me.”
“ My ribbon?”
The other nodded, “ Yes.”
Tang Bo stared for a second, trying to figure out what the big deal was. Sure, he had given him one but he had plenty of ribbons he could still give him.
“ You know, I have other ones I can—“
“ No!” The swordsman interrupted, “ I want that one, I need that one.”
Tang Bo was confused, “ May I ask why?”
The other grew quiet in the wake of his question, his brows furrowed and one of his canines ame to bite into his lower lip. But he didn’t answer him.
The poison user was sure he could guess why and knowing his Hyung-nim, he wasn’t going to say it out loud so instead he moved to embrace him. Rubbing small circles into his back.
He felt Cheong Myeong relax into his hold, sighing out through his mouth.
Tang Bo smiled reassuringly at the older man, “ Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure it’ll turn up.”
The other pouted a bit. He held in a laugh, ‘ Cute.’
“ But what am I supposed to do with my hair?” He questioned, blowing his bangs out of his face to emphasize his point. The doctor tilted his head in contemplation, bringing a hand up to twirl his finger one of the inky strands.
“ I could braid it,” he suggested. Cheong Myeong gave him a look before sighing again, nodding his head.
Tang Bo grinned, leading him over to the vanity and having him sit down. He grabbed the brush and got to work, already making plans to gift Cheong Myeong a proper ribbon, one that was specifically made for him…
Not even a month after Cheong Myeong had originally lost the ribbon, Tang Bo had came into their shared room, a sly grin on his face. Clearly pleased with himself
The swordsman groaned, staring at his partner, “ What did you do now? Did you kill someone? Actually scratch that—did you kill someone and not cover your tracks properly?”
Tang Bo put a hand on his chest in mock offense, “ I’m deeply offended that you would even suggest that. I am perfectly capable of hiding dead bodies.” He smiled then,
“ I practically made a living out of it.”
He was met with an unimpressed look. “ Yeah right as if I haven’t spent the better part of the last few decades cleaning up after you and your messes.”
He pouted, “ So mean, Hyung-nim! But no, I didn't kill anyone.” He refuted.
Cheong Myeong raised a brow at him, “ No, instead I come bearing a gift.” He reached into his sleeve, pulling out a simple, square-shaped box.
The older man stared at it, no doubt thinking if this was a trick or not. He stared a bit longer before his eyes found his again, intrigued.
“ Close your eyes.” The younger one instructed. Cheong Myeong pulled a face, but compiled nonetheless. Tang Bo approached the other where he was standing, turning him around to face the floor-length mirror.
He saw the other’s face twitch but he said nothing. He opened up the box, pulling out his gift for the man. He debated whether he should just tie around his ponytail or show him first then tie it.
He decided on the former, pulling the ribbon and fastening it around the white one. The green and gold ribbon stood in contrast with the white of the other ribbon and the black of Cheong Myeong’s hair.
He smiled softly, “ Okay, you can open your eyes.” Cheong Myeong opened his eyes, his gaze immediately finding the green ribbon in his hair.
He saw a look of awe flicker across his face, “ You got me a new one?” he inquired, his voice barely above a whisper as he continued to admire himself in the mirror.
Tang Bo nodded, “ Yes, and this one special , I had it made specifically for you.”
“ Are those ivy leaves?”
“ Mhm. You know, so whenever you see it you are reminded of my wonderful self.” He replied teasingly. Cheong Myeong remained quiet, silently taking it in.
He turned around to face him again, taking hold of his hand. Cheong Myeong had a faint blush coloring the apples of his cheeks. His eyes were soft as he brought up his other hand to cup the side of his face. Bringing their foreheads together in a familiar gesture.
His way of saying ‘thank you.’
Tang Bo grin softened into something a bit more tender, a bit more fond, “ You’re welcome.”
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Not even a month later, Tang Bo was gifted with his hairpin, replacing the black one he once used.
He stared at the mark on his forearm,
‘Just a little longer, Hyung-nim. Wait for me.’
»•» 🌸 «•«
Seeing the Tang Clan after so long felt bittersweet.
And of course the ones that he had seen looked so much like him. So much so he was almost inclined to think that he had some descendants, but he knew better.
Tang Bo was never with anyone else but him and he was fine with not having any children of his own, even if the elders of his clan tried to push him to.
“ Hyung-nim, you know I don’t follow the rules of those spineless fools. I do as I please.”
The fight between Jo Gul and the two Tangs exposed that, despite so much time having passed, the Tang Clan was still the same.
And watching Tang Zhan fight…
It brought back memories… and tonight the ach in his chest was just a bit too much to bear. It was in these moments, in the quiet of the night, in the safety and privacy that it offered, that he let his walls down and allowed himself to just feel …
He felt tears well up in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. Instead, he poured another cup, throwing the drink back without tasting it. Right now he just wants to lessen the pain in his chest and drown his sorrows a bit and maybe when he was done, when he had drunk so much that he couldn’t see straight, maybe, just maybe , he’d feel slightly better.
Until then, he refilled his cup.
When he awoke the next morning, he woke to the feeling of an excruciating pain shooting through his arm, his arm throbbing in tandem with his heart. A searing, burning sensation spreading throughout his entire body. He almost screamed at the feeling, but he caught himself just before he could utter a sound, gritting his teeth and bearing the pain. He’s felt worse, but fuck!
He could his forehead start to sweat from him straining in order to not make a sound. He found himself biting into his lower lip, his canine biting into the soft flesh. Hard . He could taste his own blood in his mouth as he continued to bear the pain.
He doesn’t know how long he just sat there, not moving an inch before the pain slowly subsided. When he felt good enough to stand, he took a peek at his mark, his eyes widening in surprise. It seemed to him that his mark had taken yet another huge leap from where it was before. The tattoo had fully spreading from his arm to his chest.
‘ Damn, slow down a little will you? That shit hurt.’
He rolled his shoulders and cracked his back. Due to the pain he felt earlier, his hangover, which he was sure he should be feeling right now, he wasn’t because of the sheer amount of pain he had just experienced had sobered him right up.
He looked outside, it was still early, early enough that he was sure that the others were not up just yet. He surveyed the room, noting the mess on the table. He sat back down debating on what he should do now.
He wasn’t going to go back to sleep, he was wide awake now, so that was out of the question. And he couldn’t exactly go far since the others would be up soon and would come looking for him at any moment. He stared back at the mess in front of him. Deciding he could at least clean up and head to one of the rooms for the time being. Wait for the others to wake up and then get his day started.
With a plan in mind he got to work cleaning.
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Cheong Myeong was distracted.
He was quiet and wasn’t really paying attention to what was being said as they discussed their transportation with Jo Gul’s father. Cheong Myeong’s mind seemed to be elsewhere, he was fidgety, he kept looking around, scanning their surroundings from when they started to walk here to when they sat down. Like something was causing him to feel anxious.
Nothing made Cheong Myeong anxious.
He only spoke up when Jo Gul’s father mentioned that they could depart later that afternoon, stating that he didn’t want to go. Of course it was only through the wisdom of their sajo that they were able to see why he was acting the way he was.
Of course by then, as the fates would have it, it was too late and the Tang Patriarch had already arrived.
Even when Cheong Myeong stood in front of such a monster of a man his attention was not fully in the present moment. Sure he talked a big game, got him all riled up but it seemed that he was searching for something, or someone.
Beak Cheon caught a glimpse of green from the corner of his eye. Jerking his head to where he saw it, he was met with only the sight of a boy, probably a bit younger than his sajae, perched on one of the adjacent rooftops from his position. The mysterious boy had his eyes fixed on his sajae. His gaze intently watching the back of Cheong Myeong.
He seemed enchanted by the sight of his junior. He seemed content to just— watch .and it seemed like he could do that forever until his gaze snapped in his direction.
He caught his eye, making him shiver a bit from the sheer intensity of his gaze.
Beak Cheon had only one thought,‘ The Tang's martial arts is rooted in assassintion techniques.’
They continued to stare at each other, before the boy held a blackened finger to his lips.
His brows furrowed, confused as to why the boy was up there and not down here with the rest of the Tangs who had just arrived. Then he saw it, peeking from the opening of the young man’s sleeve, a mark.
Something clicked in his mind then and he nodded at him, earning a slight bow in appreciation from the other before he receded into the background. Presumably concealing his presence once more as his sajae and the Tang Patriarch walked to where he assumed their ‘spar’ would occur.
Watching the fight between the head of the Tang Clan and his sajae clash was both terrifying and electrifying. He knew he was strong, stronger than any of them but this?
He never could have expected this.
Cheong Myeong was magnificent in the way he effortlessly performed their sect’s blade techniques, executing them with both grace and precision.
Beak Cheon found himself in awe at the sight, watching no as the youngest in their sect, the one who joined last and played the biggest role in their training and improvement, dodge and outmaneuver his opponent.
Taking almost every attack in stride. He saw pink bloom at the tip of Cheong Myeong’s blade as he deflected yet another attack. He clenched his fists, a part of him knew better than to intervene, especially knowing how the other would react to his ‘meddling’.
But at the same time the attacks were getting more and more dangerous, Tang Gunak was not letting up, not allowing him the time to breathe between the barrage of attacks. Wanting to draw out as much of his power as possible.
Regardless, he stood by and watched.
He had unshakable faith in his junior brother’s abilities.
He smiled, ‘ Show them why you are Mount Hua’s Divine Dragon, our blessing, Cheong Myeong.’
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Unprecedented .
Impossible .
Unbelievable .
Those were all words that rang through Tang Gunak’s head as he stared wide eyed at the boy who was more than three times his junior and yet showed more mastery over martial arts than he did in his years.
He felt his blade cut into his shoulder but he couldn’t even register the pain because he was too busy staring at the boy. He was not in the best condition, clearly having pushed well beyond his limits in order to withstand all of his attacks.
He was panting, with blood dripping from many of the gaping wounds on his body, he saw sharp crimson eyes lock with his, “ That’s ten… ” he panted, “ …you complete… ” he coughed up blood, “ …and utter…”
“ …fraud…”
The boy dropped, or well he would have had someone not caught him right before his body hit the ground. He heard the distinct sound of two blades clashing, his gaze snapping to the source of the sound.
There, lying on the ground uselessly was a familiar dagger. He felt anger wash over him as he realized what was just about to happen.
He was ready to reprimand the owner of said dagger before he heard the weak voice of Cheong Myeong, “… Bo…ya…?” His voice sounded disbelieving, like he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.
His gaze then went to the face of the person who was currently holding said boy in his arms.
‘ Tang Bo? What is he doing here? ’
The lord watched on in confusion as the scene unfolded. There was a moment where it seemed like time stopped as the two stared at each other. Both searching the other’s eyes for …something .
Green searched crimson before Tang Bo whispered a tentative yet hopeful—
“ Taoist Hyung-nim?”
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Cheong Myeong awoke to the sound of soft chattering. His body aching all over, there was a faint pounding in his head, a bone deep exhaustion and he felt tired .
‘ Bo-ya…was that just a dream?’
Yeah, he definitely pushed himself too far, now his hallucinations were becoming a bit too real and his heart was paying the price.
He let out a breath, sitting up from where he was resting, taking in his surroundings. The smell of herbs flooding his senses as he looked around. He must’ve been at the Tang’s residence, he’d recognize this type of architecture any day.
Then he noticed a head peeking from over the bottom of the bed he rested on, leaning over he felt his eyes widen slightly before a soft smile made its way into his face.
There, sleeping on the floor was his sahyangs and his sajo.
‘ These idiots …’
‘ They must’ve stayed up the whole time before they couldn’t fight their exhaustion and passed out.’
“ They insisted on staying. Refusing to leave your side.” A familiar voice from behind him explained.
He felt the world slow down—his chest immediately felt tight and it felt harder to breathe. He slowly turned to the source of the voice, his heart stuttering against his ribcage.
And his arm was burning.
“ I’m pleasantly surprised, Hyung-nim. I never thought you’d take to having disciples but,” The newcomer shrugged, “ I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You always did have a soft spot for those you considered your own.”
Cheong Myeong couldn’t help but stare, his eyes greedily soaking up the picture in front of him. The person in front of him looked so much like his Bo-ya, same hair, same lopsided grin, same mischievous eyes…
“ Bo-ya ?”
His grin widened, “ Long time no see, Hyung-nim.”
»•» 🌸 «•«
How did this happen?
One moment, their sajae was fighting the Head of the Tang family, Tang Gunak and the next one of the Tangs was acting all friendly, playing with his hair, wrapping his arms around him, pestering him to spare. You name it, he’s probably done it.
Now this wasn’t the first time someone tried to get overly friendly with Cheong Myeong, far from it actually, considering his reputation. And especially given the circumstances so it should've been fine, given how Cheong Myeong normally reacted to such behavior; with a fist and a handful of insults and some creative profanity.
But no.
Instead, Cheong Myeong just let him do whatever he wanted, never once complaining or snapping back at him in any meaningful way.
As a matter of fact, Cheong Myeong seemed to enjoy his presence. The usual aggressiveness and rudeness that they’ve come to associate with their youngest, all but vanishing in the company of the Tang, with Cheong Myeong being reduced to nothing but soft and bashful smiles and even softer chuckles.
The two exchanged hushed words and laughed at jokes that only seemed to make sense to them. It was like they were the only two people in the world whenever they interacted, getting lost in the little bubble they had created.
And that was fine, it’s good that Cheong Myeong was making friends, even if it felt a bit unsettling to watch him act so differently.
But their problem really lies with Tang Bo himself.
Sure he acted all nice and innocent when their sajae was looking but the moment he turned his back, his smile became sharp and his gaze turned cold.
Just thinking about it made Beak Cheon’s blood run cold.
And right now said boy was hanging off of their sajae, trying to pester the other into sparing with him.
“ Come on, Hyung-nim, just once,” He pleaded.
Oh and that was another thing, he referred to their sajae as ‘Hyung-nim’. When they had first heard him being referred in such a intimate way they thought Cheong Myeong would react poorly but instead he just…let him call him that.
Further proof of the relationship between the two.
“ It’ll be just like old times.”
“ Are you that eager to get your ass beat upon our reunion?” Cheong Myeong smirked, earning a pout out of the other, “ Hey! Don’t be so sure I won’t beat you this time.”
“ Oh?” That seemed to pique his interest.
“ We are different from who used to be.”
That caught Beak Cheon’s attention, ‘ different from how they used to be ?‘
Cheong Myeong raised a brow, “ So? That doesn’t change the outcome.”
It was Tang Bo’s turn to smirk, “ But aren’t you curious, Hyung-nim? Don’t you want to know who would win in our current states?” Cheong Myeong seemed to consider his words.
The Tang’s smirk broadened, “ Think about it, there is never a better time than the present and when was the last time you had a good duel?”
“ Literally a few days ago.”
“ Hah! As if that child could possibly compare to me.”
Beak Cheon, along with everyone within earshot of their conversation stiffened.
‘ Did he just refer to Tang Gunak, the HEAD of the Tang family-as a child!?”
Cheong Myeong gave him an unimpressed stare, “ Bo-ya, need I remind you that you spent days caring for me and channeling your qi into me.”
Tang Bo waved a dismissive hand, “ Hardly an issue, you know as well as I do that my reserves replenish quickly. Hyung-nim—“
“ —And you strained yourself.”
Tang Bo tried to brush it off, “ It was hardly anything—“
Cheong Myeong leveled him with a look that silenced him, “ No, I understand you’re excited. But we can spar later.”
He placed a hand on his shoulder, “ Rest.” He urged his friend, “Besides,”
He grinned, “I want you at your best when I beat your ass so you have no excuse for why you lost.” He teased.
Tang Bo broke out into laughter,throwing an arm around the older teen as they walked away, “ Okay, Hyung-nim.”
“ Anything for you .”
That was another thing, the odd little phrases they would say to each other.
If what they said was to be believed—that they were friends, best friends, no less, then how come Beak Cheon had the nagging suspicion that they were so much more than that?
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Yoo Iseol cared very deeply for her sajae.
She knew that there was much he hadn’t told them, things he may never tell them.
But most importantly, she recognized how lonely he felt.
When they first met and he had showed her what her father had dreamt up for years, what her father had spent years trying to restore for the good and the glory of Mount Hua she knew something was up with the younger boy.
There was no way he could’ve known about their ancestors sword techniques—knowledge that even their Jangmun didn’t have.
She wasn’t sure how it was possible for someone who had just recently came into their sect had it, but she, like everyone else decided not to question it and decided to follow him.
And over the years she had time to watch him, and the longer she did the more questions popped up.
Why did he care so much?
How did he know what he did?
Why did he push them so hard to be stronger?
And why did he stare longingly at his ribbon?
Tonight, she believes she was finally given the answer to that last question.
She had waken up to the sound of hushed laughter, the joyous sound carried into her room by the wind. Being the light sleeper that she was she woke up, confused.
Getting out of bed and walking to her window she caught a glimpse of green robes and a familiar black and red uniform heading in the direction of the forest.
She couldn’t tell you what drove her that night to follow the pair, but nonetheless she got dressed, donning her uniform and exited silently through her bedroom window.
.
.
.
.
“ Bo-ya, where are you taking me?”
Cheong Myeong pulled a face when the other shushed him, “ Patience, Hyung-nim. I told you I had a surprise for you. Telling you would defeat the purpose of the surprise, would it not?” He asked simply and pointedly not answering his question.
Cheong Myeong sighed through his nose, “ You know how I don’t like surprises…”
“ I know, I know, but this one you’ll like, promise.” Tang Bo took his hand then, weaving their fingers together.
“ Just trust me, we’re almost there.”
They passed by familiar buildings, crossing small bridges that connected different parts of the estate, making their way silently to wherever Tang Bo was leading him.
He wasn't sure what to expect when the other had sneaked through his window earlier.
But he hadn't expected the other to whisk him away and lead him to some unknown destination.
But he went nonetheless.
They had crossed yet another small crossing, slowly making their way closer and closer to where the residence met the forest.
They stopped then, just before crossing over into the foliage, Tang Bo turned to him, “ Close your eyes.”
Cheong Myeong raised an eyebrow, “ And why should I do that?”
Tang Bo pouted, “ For the surprise, Hyung-nim! It won’t be much of one if you see it as we’re approaching.”
Cheong Myeong grumbled in annoyance but complied. He closed his eyes, relying on Tang Bo to guide his steps as they finally crossed over into the forest.
He could feel tile underneath his feet with vines and other foliage growing in between the cracks. He distantly registered that the other must've taken him to one of the abandoned parts of the Tang’s estate.
The parts that were unkept and hadn’t been used for a long time.
They walked deeper and deeper into the forest, with Cheong Myeong keeping true to his word and keeping his eyes closed the entire time, completely trusting the other to take care of him.
They eventually came to a stop to what the swordsman assumed was their destination.
“ Hyung-nim, you can open your eyes now.”
Plum colored eyes slowly fluttered open, a small gasp leaving parted lips as he took in the scene before him.
They had come to a stop before an old pavilion, the structure still standing despite its old age. While there were obvious signs of neglect from lack of use over the years, it seemed that someone had decided to breathe new life into it.
Cleaning it up and replacing some of the parts that had caved in or that had been too rotted to stay.
“ Do you recognize this place?” His eyes snapped to his companion, “ It was the same one we used to drink at all the time back during the war.”
He turned to him then, his eyes impossibly green,“Do you remember?”
The war?
…
Yeah, he remembered.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
It was a quiet night.
They didn’t get much of those ever since those demonic fuckers showed up and started wrecking havoc in every place they came across. Massacring any and all that crossed their path.
Even children…
It made him sick.
But tonight, in the safety and security of Tang's residence, he allowed himself to relax, letting the thoughts of war and violence and seemingly endless bloodshed to disappear from his mind.
Even if it’s only temporarily.
Because here, in the company of his most cherished person, he could be free.
Speaking of which, the other was oddly quiet tonight. He had a furrow in his brow, his face twisted in contemplation.
That was never a good sign. Tang Bo was starting to get a bit more sentimental the last couple of months. With the Dark Saint speaking about some of the things he wants to do after the war and sights he wishes to see with him once he’s cut the head off that demonic bastard.
Hell, he’s even considering returning to his family to become a proper Elder, ‘ My family is traditional, Hyung-nim, you must understand. Too reliant on their poisons, clinging to the ways of the old. I want to change it; better them.’
And he’d rather not have a rerun of the last time they were alone and drinking till their heart’s content.
He could barely get him back to his room. The other clinging to him like some needy toddler whilst insisting that he was fine and that he totally wasn’t drunk off his ass and—“ Come on, hyung-nim. Just one more drink. Come on.”
He cringed at the memory.
But somewhere deep in his gut, he knew that this was different and his gut was never wrong. Not when it came to his Bo-ya.
And that distinction left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. But he was nothing if not reckless, nothing if not brave. So instead of allowing his lover to stew in his thoughts, he downed the alcohol in his cup before asking— “ What’s on your mind?” His soft voice was carried by the wind.
Snapping the other out of his stupor, “ Nothing, nothing,” his eyes took on this far away look, glazing over slightly, “ Just…” he turned to him with a strange expression on his face.
“ You never answered my question from before.”
Cheog Myeong raised a brow, “ What question?”
“ Do you ever wish you had a soulmate?”
It was Cheong Myeong’s turn to get lost in thought as he contemplated the question, before answering with a resolute—“ No.”
Tang Bo’s face twitched but his expression was kept carefully neutral, “ May I ask why?”
He sighed through his nose, trying to find the right words. “ I don’t like the thought of being tied to someone of which I had no say in. Let alone such a bond being made apparent through a mark that I also had no say in.” He watched the other carefully, taking in all his little facial tics, attempting to gauge how the other was reacting.
“ And if you were tied to me?”
Green met crimson.
…
Cheong Myeong didn’t answer.
.
.
.
.
Crimson.
Crimson .
Crimson .
Everywhere he looked; crimson .
It stained everything it touched, seeping into the cracks. It had stained his hands, stained his uniform which was once white. Painting the fabric in the same hue of red. And it was staining Bo-ya. Crimson was leaking—gushing out from between his fingers where he was attempting to apply pressure to stop the bleeding.
He felt something run down his cheeks, but he couldn’t tell if it was tears or blood splatter. He grasped desperately onto Tang Bo’s blood staining robe, trying to pour some of his qi into him. He could feel the familiar push and pull, give and take of their Qi’s mixing together; a familiar dance.
But it did not escape him that Tang Bo’s was significantly weaker and actively getting weaker the more time passed. He could hear Tang Bo’s voice, shaking and rough, trying to say something to him. He could see his lips moving, forming around syllables but Cheong Myeong’s mind couldn’t register any sound over the raging thoughts in his mind.
‘ No, no, no, no, you can’t die. I won’t let you die, please, please.’
‘ Don’t leave me…’
It was Tang Bo grabbing hold of his hand that pulled him away from his racing thoughts, he smiled knowingly“ Hyung-nim…”
Cheong Myeong shook his head harshly, stubborn till the end,“ No, no, shut up!” Cheong Myeong’s voice sounded foreign to his own ears. He doesn’t think he’s ever sounded like this…
“ Hyung-nim…please listen…” Tang Bo’s voice was just barely above a whisper, warmth actively leaving his body as his eyes began to glaze over, “ My family…take…care of…my family.”
Despite himself, The sword saint found himself rolling his eyes, “ Damned leech! Do it yourself!”
His lover let out an airy chuckle, “ I don’t… think I’ll be able to.” His eyes met his then, he knew he must’ve made quite the sight. The legendary Plum Blossom Sword Saint, crying his eyes out as he helplessly tries to save the only person in the world who fully understood him.
Tang Bo coughed, coughing up blood in the process, “ Hyung…”
“ Shut up! You’re gonna be alright, okay? You’re gonna be just fine! Just—just hold on a little longer.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince him or Tang Bo.
Probably the former.
“ Cheong Myeong…” the other tightened his grasp on his hand, smiling sadly at him, “ That’s enough…”
Cheong Myeong denied it,“ No, no, no—“
Tang Bo nodded, “ That’s enough…you’ve done…enough…” Cheong Myeong choked back a sob, instead shifting Tang Bo’s body so that he was laying in his lap. He could feel his heartbeat getting weaker and weaker, his life slipping through his fingers like sand.
He lifted a blood-soaked hand to tenderly cup the other’s face, another wave of sobs wrecking his body as he watched the other lean into his touch. A lone green eye looked up at him, “ Cheong Myeong?”
With a strained voice he answered back—“ Yes?”
“ And… if you were… tied to me…?” Cheong Myeong almost wanted to let out a half hysterical laugh at the question. Of course on his deathbed he’s still wondering about that.
Damned brat.
“ How would that make you feel?”
Cheong Myeong steeled, allowing his eyes to search his before he leaned down, connecting their foreheads, “ If it’s you…”
“ I’d be okay with that.”
Tang Bo smiled then. One of those blinding smiles of his, and for a moment, everything felt normal. Like Tang Bo was gonna get up and walk this off just like he’s done with so many other injuries and live to see another day and add another tale to the long list of tales he had to tell.
But this wasn’t a normal day, and instead of gaining warmth, gaining strength, he was losing even more now.
And it wasn’t long before the sand in the hourglass had run out.
He doesn’t think he’s ever cried like that before. The guttural sounds of his anguish and grief rang throughout the battlefield that day as he clutched at the corpse of his beloved.
He never thought he’d see him again and was more than content with dying after defeating Cheonma. But that was before he got reincarnated and before his mark showed up and his fight with Tang Gunak.
And before a boy, not too much younger than him with a similar style and look of his departed walked into his room while he was being treated and uttered the words, “ Long time no see, Hyung-nim.”
His disbelief, though, turned quick to anger as he suddenly sprang up from his bed, “ ‘Long time no see?’ Really? That’s what you have to say to me?” he stomped over to the Tang, whose hands were up in a defensive position, no doubt expecting a hit.
“ Hyung-nim,” he said nervously, “ I thought you’d be happy to see me…” Cheong Myeong felt a blood vessel pop out at the other’s words,
“ Happy to see you?” he repeated through gritted teeth, one of his hands going to fist into the collar of Tang’ Bo’s robe, raising the other up in the air in a threatening gesture. He saw Tang Bo flinched back, closing his eyes preparation for the inevitable hit he was going to receive.
Cheong Myeong’s fist wavered before he dropped it, allowing it to fall to his side. He could feel his eyes watering as took in Tang Bo’s face. It was different from how he remembered it, how could he forget that he had a mole on the side of his mouth? Or that when he smiled, his dimples would deepen? Or how he always smelled like a mixture of herbs and spices, with a hint of lemongrass cutting through the other two scents.
He grinded his teeth together, th next words out of his mouth coming out strained and rough around the edges, “ You are such a fucking idiot.” He said harshly, green eyes slowly snapped open; surprised as he went on, “ You are stupid, and reckless, and so damned annoying– ”
“ –Hyung-nim–”
“ –And you only think about yourself, regardless of what might happen to others–”
“ –Hyung-nim–”
“ –I mean seriously, “ He scoffed, his eyes set ablaze with his fury, his fist clutching the fabric even tighter as he continued on, “ How could you be so reckless with your own life?”
“ Hyung-nim…” Tang Bo said hesitantly
“ I mean did you even think about me? How would that affect me? Of course not, because you’re a selfish asshole. And then to have the nerve to ask me to take care of your family…”
“ And to die with such a peaceful expression on your face, like you had accepted it. Like you had no regrets…” His voice trailed off, dropping his head, obscuring his face from Tang Bo as tears silently trailed down his face. They stood there in silence for a bit, the only sounds heard in the room being the quiet and gentle snores of the Mount Hua disciples sleeping behind them.
It felt like an eternity had passed before he heard Tang Bo’s voice break the tense silence.
“ All I was thinking about was you.”
Cheong Myeong’s head snapped up to look his lover in the face, “ I know it was selfish of me to ask such a thing of you. To place even more burdens upon you and for that I have no excuse.”
Tang Bo slowly raised one of his hands to cup his cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping away a stray tear that had fallen. “ But I have no regrets. What I did I did to protect you and I’d do it again if the opportunity were to present itself.”
He smiled then, a soft, fragile thing, “ You must understand, Hyung-nim, you mean the world to me.”
“I don’t think I could live with myself if I were to fail in protecting you.”
More tears sprung to Cheong Myeong’s eyes, “ But I never asked you to do that. I never wanted you to do that!”
The other just shook his head, “ You didn’t have to.” His smile broadened, “ That’s just what people do when they love someone; they act on instinct.’
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
“ Hyung-nim?” Tang Bo called out to other, snapping him out of his thoughts. Cheong Myeong turned to him and Tang Bo smiled, taking the other’s hands into his own. His fingers toyed with the bandages that were wrapped securely on Cheong Myeong’s right arm. He stared at it a bit before drawing his gaze back to plum colored eyes.
“ May I?”
His partner regarded him carefully before nodding his head. Tang Bo took his time unwrapping the banaged from the other, allowing him ample time to change his mind and withdraw if he so pleased.
He never did and just watched silently as he removed them.
After a moment the entirety of Cheong Myeong’s right arm was completely exposed and the air that was once in Tang Bo’s lungs left as he stared down at the mark before him.
He grinned, “ Ivy leaves?” The older of the two just shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant, but he could see the slight blush coloring the apples of the swordsman’s cheeks. He let go of his hands, pulling up his left sleeve to reveal the mark hidden beneath the fabric.
It was Cheong Myeong’s turn to be surprised, “ Plum blossoms?” Tang Bo nodded as the other moved in closer in order to gently caress his mark, “ It seems that we are fated to be together in this life.”
Green met Crimson, “ Then let’s make sure we stay together this time around.”
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