Eyes Of Fiery Red 2/?
Title: Eyes Of Fiery Red 2/?
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, which is why I have to indulge myself in these fictions! :)
Word Count: 1766
Summary: Jaejoong struggles with the sins he neither expects to be forgiven for nor atone for. Yunho takes it all away from him, all in return for a chance at a single taste of love - rare, coveted, and as he begins to discover, perhaps, out-of-reach.
♥♥♥
As he placed the body into the hole he had dug in the ground, he worried about earthworms and mud and darkness - the things that had terrified her to tears in life. He wondered if she’d be the same in death, wondered if she’d be okay without him fending off these things.
At that thought, he fell to his knees, unable to hold off neither the waves of emotion nor the sobs wracking his body any longer, and his hands clutched at wet earth that would eventually cover his sister’s body.
Five. She’s only five. Or was. How could it be that she was in the ground before him?
It didn’t make sense, and suddenly all he could think about was making sense, making things right. He couldn’t leave her alone, in the dark, afraid. Who knew what afterlife was like? What if she was looking for him, and he wasn’t around? The questions came and went in an unstoppable torrent. The answer grounded him more than anything he had ever known - all he had known had either gone up in flames or ended up in the dust anyway.
He just had to die, and find out.
And if she wasn’t terrified, if afterlife wasn’t anything but a gaping void, then there was no love lost anyway - he had nothing to live for.
---
The blade didn’t feel foreign in his grip - but the purpose for unsheathing did. The existence of the dagger was something that only he knew of. It had been much too dangerous to let his parents know of it when he was planning on using it against them, if need be, and Eun Hye - the name brought a bitter taste to his mouth - had been much too young to understand.
He hadn’t ever wanted to come home to see Eun Hye injured or worse, dead, under the administrations of his parents, and so he had saved up secretly and with the stash of money, bought the blade he was running his hands over. He had trained and trained and trained in secret, picking up tactics from watching soldiers spar and perfecting his throw. What good had it done? He had been there and Eun Hye was still not spared from the horrors of death.
He had failed her.
How ironic, he thought, that the blade he’d failed her with would be the one used to end his own life. Or perhaps it was strangely fitting. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care enough to stick around and find out, as he raised the blade to his own throat.
He thought perhaps death would be painful for just a second, and then unfeeling and numb, and so silent that the soundlessness would roar in his ears. But he didn’t get to find out, because the next moment he opened his eyes, his blade was stuck in the mud in front of him, and a caw from the withered tree behind him made him look up at the crow perched on a gnarled branch, the intelligence in its eyes convincing Jaejoong that it wasn’t a mere crow but something more.
It had knocked the dagger out of his hands, prevented his death - why?
Jaejoong didn’t understand, but the Fates had decreed him to live. He was young, but even he knew that crows were known to be messengers of the powers that be. To ignore an omen - and such a startling one at that - would be folly. It was folly to, but it couldn’t stop him - he didn’t leave his sister alone in life and neither would he in death.
He would wait for it to depart before continuing.
---
He held the bird’s gaze for as long as it rested on the branch, and eventually it flew away. Jaejoong waited a few moments, motionless and unconsciously holding his breath, to make sure it was truly gone. But before he even moved, he heard the flutter of wings, and a caw, signalling both its return and its flight in a matter of seconds.
It had left something in its place though - a corded necklace dropped in the earth, just in front of Eun Hye’s grave. The silver pendant, unmarred by the dirt, held an intricate Celtic-looking design and the words SITIS carved in script - and Jaejoong’s blood ran cold.
---
Blood. Claws. Horns. Eyes red with bloodlust.
Even in his horror at seeing the demon standing over his parents’ dead bodies, all he could think about at that moment was how he had to keep that being from getting anywhere near Eun Hye - and he would die trying, even if all it did was buy a little time for her to run. The demon had swung around to face him, the pendant on a cord around its neck swerving through air violently before slamming against its chest and resting there. He had taken a throw at it, but he had watched as the dagger lodged itself into the opposing wall, and suddenly-
Suddenly the demon was right in front of him, tightening its hold on his throat even as Jaejoong only just managed to register that he was being lifted above ground and being suffocated, and he didn’t know if he was hallucinating from the lack of oxygen but he thought he heard Eun Hye screaming his name as he was tossed aside, much like a rag doll.
And even as time slowed before his head impacted against the ceramic wares at the side of the room, he barely flinched in free fall, and could only keep praying, please, please, please-
Finally hitting something, he blacked out against his will, and slipped into unconsciousness before he could finish his prayer.
-don’t let it be Eun Hye.
---
He had only seen it once before, but he could never mistake it. He screwed his eyes shut, closing his fingers around it and clenching it in his fist, to the point where it was painful, cursing its owner as his anger rose and rose and rose. Then the anger broke, washing over him, and he opened his eyes with a different look from when he had closed them.
So many times, he had been on the receiving end of the disasters. All his life, he had defended his sister from the worst of his parents’ attacks, of their madness, only to turn around and lose her to the insanity of a demon. He was sick of defending, of waiting, of being the victim. He wanted to strike and hurt and draw fear and blood.
He was going to kill this Sitis.
Almost contemplatively, he opened his fingers again, and stared, for a little while, at the metal resting unassumingly on his palm.
The metal came to rest in the middle of his chest, searingly cold against his skin.
He hoped it would always burn when it touched him, so he would never forget its owner’s fiery red eyes, until the day he could sink a blade into their owner, and watch the life drain out of them.
Gone was the self-loathing, replaced by hatred - red-hot and blinding - if he was to live, he was going to live to kill the beast. He never knew what happened after this change - perhaps it was the strain of his emotions taking its toll, or perhaps it had been too long since he last heeded his body’s physical needs - but he passed out, losing consciousness before he even hit the ground.
---
The shadows dancing behind his eyelids made him want to groan and turn over, or do something to block out the light filtering through his lidded eyes, he tried moving, but his limbs felt like leaden weights and he was sore for some reason. He just wanted to fall back to the comfortable oblivion of sleep, where he floated without any sensation, but his nose caught a whiff of something and he crinkled it in distaste.
Something was burning.
And his eyes shot open, and he had almost sat up in his haste. Almost, because someone had taken hold of his shoulders and held him down.
Which was just as well, seeing that their faces were mere inches apart, and Jaejoong was transfixed on the face that was occupying his entire field of vision. He took in black eyes that were just as shocked as his, just before the man cleared his throat awkwardly, and looked away, pulling back to put more distance between them. But his hands were still gripping onto Jaejoong’s shoulders and he seemed to realise a little belatedly, only loosening his grip and letting go after a few moments.
Jaejoong mutedly watched as the man stood up and awkwardly scratched his head. Then he remembered what had woken him, and his gaze went to the fire behind the man, a question in his eyes. “Uhm, I tried to cook you something, because you looked like you might be hungry, but I’m not a very good cook…” the man volunteered unsurely.
Ah, deer.
This, he was familiar with, but the whole picture of this man - awkward and unsure of what to do - and the burning deer on the spit above the fire looked so queer he couldn't help but laugh.
“Hey!”, the man had crouched down beside him and punched his shoulder in mock anger before succumbing to laughter himself, though more controlled. A rather comfortable silence fell over them after the laughter subsided, and Jaejoong took in the surroundings - the forest, the cloak that was under him and soaked through with moisture from the forest ground, a coat that had fallen to his lap when he had tried to sit up and the strange, built man finally moving the (beyond) cooked deer off the fire.
He was caught staring though, and got raised eyebrows and a tilted chin in response. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as the eyes were directed right at him, and he tried not to stutter at the strangely commanding look in them as he asked his question. “Who are you?”
He watched as the man turned back to the deer, and cut off a segment of its thigh. The latter pushed up from his knees, and Jaejoong realised, at the back of his mind, that this man was really tall. He didn’t notice he had been staring until the meat was offered rather unceremoniously a little distance from his face, breaking his gaze. Jaejoong’s eyes snapped to the food for only a second before landing on the man’s face again, a question in them. A smile. Then-
“I’m Yunho.”
♥♥♥
A/N: I hope this makes up for the last drabble-like chapter! The rest of the story will be in third-person!
Pairing: YunJae
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, which is why I have to indulge myself in these fictions! :)
Word Count: 1766
Summary: Jaejoong struggles with the sins he neither expects to be forgiven for nor atone for. Yunho takes it all away from him, all in return for a chance at a single taste of love - rare, coveted, and as he begins to discover, perhaps, out-of-reach.
♥♥♥
As he placed the body into the hole he had dug in the ground, he worried about earthworms and mud and darkness - the things that had terrified her to tears in life. He wondered if she’d be the same in death, wondered if she’d be okay without him fending off these things.
At that thought, he fell to his knees, unable to hold off neither the waves of emotion nor the sobs wracking his body any longer, and his hands clutched at wet earth that would eventually cover his sister’s body.
Five. She’s only five. Or was. How could it be that she was in the ground before him?
It didn’t make sense, and suddenly all he could think about was making sense, making things right. He couldn’t leave her alone, in the dark, afraid. Who knew what afterlife was like? What if she was looking for him, and he wasn’t around? The questions came and went in an unstoppable torrent. The answer grounded him more than anything he had ever known - all he had known had either gone up in flames or ended up in the dust anyway.
He just had to die, and find out.
And if she wasn’t terrified, if afterlife wasn’t anything but a gaping void, then there was no love lost anyway - he had nothing to live for.
---
The blade didn’t feel foreign in his grip - but the purpose for unsheathing did. The existence of the dagger was something that only he knew of. It had been much too dangerous to let his parents know of it when he was planning on using it against them, if need be, and Eun Hye - the name brought a bitter taste to his mouth - had been much too young to understand.
He hadn’t ever wanted to come home to see Eun Hye injured or worse, dead, under the administrations of his parents, and so he had saved up secretly and with the stash of money, bought the blade he was running his hands over. He had trained and trained and trained in secret, picking up tactics from watching soldiers spar and perfecting his throw. What good had it done? He had been there and Eun Hye was still not spared from the horrors of death.
He had failed her.
How ironic, he thought, that the blade he’d failed her with would be the one used to end his own life. Or perhaps it was strangely fitting. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care enough to stick around and find out, as he raised the blade to his own throat.
He thought perhaps death would be painful for just a second, and then unfeeling and numb, and so silent that the soundlessness would roar in his ears. But he didn’t get to find out, because the next moment he opened his eyes, his blade was stuck in the mud in front of him, and a caw from the withered tree behind him made him look up at the crow perched on a gnarled branch, the intelligence in its eyes convincing Jaejoong that it wasn’t a mere crow but something more.
It had knocked the dagger out of his hands, prevented his death - why?
Jaejoong didn’t understand, but the Fates had decreed him to live. He was young, but even he knew that crows were known to be messengers of the powers that be. To ignore an omen - and such a startling one at that - would be folly. It was folly to, but it couldn’t stop him - he didn’t leave his sister alone in life and neither would he in death.
He would wait for it to depart before continuing.
---
He held the bird’s gaze for as long as it rested on the branch, and eventually it flew away. Jaejoong waited a few moments, motionless and unconsciously holding his breath, to make sure it was truly gone. But before he even moved, he heard the flutter of wings, and a caw, signalling both its return and its flight in a matter of seconds.
It had left something in its place though - a corded necklace dropped in the earth, just in front of Eun Hye’s grave. The silver pendant, unmarred by the dirt, held an intricate Celtic-looking design and the words SITIS carved in script - and Jaejoong’s blood ran cold.
---
Blood. Claws. Horns. Eyes red with bloodlust.
Even in his horror at seeing the demon standing over his parents’ dead bodies, all he could think about at that moment was how he had to keep that being from getting anywhere near Eun Hye - and he would die trying, even if all it did was buy a little time for her to run. The demon had swung around to face him, the pendant on a cord around its neck swerving through air violently before slamming against its chest and resting there. He had taken a throw at it, but he had watched as the dagger lodged itself into the opposing wall, and suddenly-
Suddenly the demon was right in front of him, tightening its hold on his throat even as Jaejoong only just managed to register that he was being lifted above ground and being suffocated, and he didn’t know if he was hallucinating from the lack of oxygen but he thought he heard Eun Hye screaming his name as he was tossed aside, much like a rag doll.
And even as time slowed before his head impacted against the ceramic wares at the side of the room, he barely flinched in free fall, and could only keep praying, please, please, please-
Finally hitting something, he blacked out against his will, and slipped into unconsciousness before he could finish his prayer.
-don’t let it be Eun Hye.
---
He had only seen it once before, but he could never mistake it. He screwed his eyes shut, closing his fingers around it and clenching it in his fist, to the point where it was painful, cursing its owner as his anger rose and rose and rose. Then the anger broke, washing over him, and he opened his eyes with a different look from when he had closed them.
So many times, he had been on the receiving end of the disasters. All his life, he had defended his sister from the worst of his parents’ attacks, of their madness, only to turn around and lose her to the insanity of a demon. He was sick of defending, of waiting, of being the victim. He wanted to strike and hurt and draw fear and blood.
He was going to kill this Sitis.
Almost contemplatively, he opened his fingers again, and stared, for a little while, at the metal resting unassumingly on his palm.
The metal came to rest in the middle of his chest, searingly cold against his skin.
He hoped it would always burn when it touched him, so he would never forget its owner’s fiery red eyes, until the day he could sink a blade into their owner, and watch the life drain out of them.
Gone was the self-loathing, replaced by hatred - red-hot and blinding - if he was to live, he was going to live to kill the beast. He never knew what happened after this change - perhaps it was the strain of his emotions taking its toll, or perhaps it had been too long since he last heeded his body’s physical needs - but he passed out, losing consciousness before he even hit the ground.
---
The shadows dancing behind his eyelids made him want to groan and turn over, or do something to block out the light filtering through his lidded eyes, he tried moving, but his limbs felt like leaden weights and he was sore for some reason. He just wanted to fall back to the comfortable oblivion of sleep, where he floated without any sensation, but his nose caught a whiff of something and he crinkled it in distaste.
Something was burning.
And his eyes shot open, and he had almost sat up in his haste. Almost, because someone had taken hold of his shoulders and held him down.
Which was just as well, seeing that their faces were mere inches apart, and Jaejoong was transfixed on the face that was occupying his entire field of vision. He took in black eyes that were just as shocked as his, just before the man cleared his throat awkwardly, and looked away, pulling back to put more distance between them. But his hands were still gripping onto Jaejoong’s shoulders and he seemed to realise a little belatedly, only loosening his grip and letting go after a few moments.
Jaejoong mutedly watched as the man stood up and awkwardly scratched his head. Then he remembered what had woken him, and his gaze went to the fire behind the man, a question in his eyes. “Uhm, I tried to cook you something, because you looked like you might be hungry, but I’m not a very good cook…” the man volunteered unsurely.
Ah, deer.
This, he was familiar with, but the whole picture of this man - awkward and unsure of what to do - and the burning deer on the spit above the fire looked so queer he couldn't help but laugh.
“Hey!”, the man had crouched down beside him and punched his shoulder in mock anger before succumbing to laughter himself, though more controlled. A rather comfortable silence fell over them after the laughter subsided, and Jaejoong took in the surroundings - the forest, the cloak that was under him and soaked through with moisture from the forest ground, a coat that had fallen to his lap when he had tried to sit up and the strange, built man finally moving the (beyond) cooked deer off the fire.
He was caught staring though, and got raised eyebrows and a tilted chin in response. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry as the eyes were directed right at him, and he tried not to stutter at the strangely commanding look in them as he asked his question. “Who are you?”
He watched as the man turned back to the deer, and cut off a segment of its thigh. The latter pushed up from his knees, and Jaejoong realised, at the back of his mind, that this man was really tall. He didn’t notice he had been staring until the meat was offered rather unceremoniously a little distance from his face, breaking his gaze. Jaejoong’s eyes snapped to the food for only a second before landing on the man’s face again, a question in them. A smile. Then-
“I’m Yunho.”
♥♥♥
A/N: I hope this makes up for the last drabble-like chapter! The rest of the story will be in third-person!