I Always Love You Like This [2/5]
╔╗
“Later loser! You’re coming to the graduation party; don’t fight me on this or I will bring you forcibly.”
Jongin rolled his eyes and hiked his backpack higher up his shoulders. He stood in the middle of his front yard halfway to his house, his face a picture of indifference except for the small smile trying to flick up one corner of his mouth. “Whatever, Tao. The party’s not for another two weeks anyway, and God, can you please sit back down? Leaning out of the window like that is dangerous.”
He faced the black hovercar floating next to the curb and snorted at Tao hanging further out the passenger side window in defiance. The machine was ostentatious, its body styled to look like one of those old school Maserati’s from back when humans only lived on Earth. It even had windows that needed to be rolled down, rather than the usual membranes that dissolved out of existence with the touch of a button. Byun Baekhyun was the only person Jongin knew who still had glass windows.
“Ah!”
Jongin was suddenly next to the car supporting Tao. Both of them looked back at the driver with wide eyes.
“Don’t give me that look. I hardly moved the car at all;” Baekhyun groused, “Taozi you need to sit. I didn’t realize you were that far out of the window. Besides, our hero Jonginnie will always teleport to our rescue; it’s fine.”
Tao slumps back down in his seat, the fingers of one hand still wrapped around Jongin’s wrist, and cut his eyes away from Jongin to his other best friend.
“Thank you for your apology Baekhyun. No, really, I know you didn’t mean it and I forgive you. I’m just happy to hear you say you’re sorry.”
“Fine, fine. I am sorry, really. I don’t want you to die and I’m sorry I almost knocked you out of the vehicle.” Baekhyun leaned into the steering wheel so he could see around Tao to look at Jongin. “Seriously, we are coming back here to pick you up at 8, and we’ll go find you a good outfit. It’s the last party before you officially leave the Diplomatic and Intergalactic Training Academy and even your parents are attending as special alumni guests; you can’t skip out on this. You are coming, and you will be ready and happy when we get here night of or I’m going to send Tao in to dress you.”
Jongin felt the slightest pressure increase on his wrist. He would have thought he imagined it until he saw the kittenish smirk pulling at Tao’s face. He pulled his arm from Tao’s grip and just like that he was at his front door, key in hand.
“I get it, I have to come mingle with the Academy so they can show me off and drum up more money or you’ll let Tao feel me up.”
Tao swatted at Baekhyun’s arm with a petulant huff, “Stop making me sound like a creep; I’m not gonna feel you up.”
“Taozi,” Baekhyun started gently to avoid any further hits, “it kinda seems like you wanna feel Jonginnie up.”
“I like clothes, he wears clothes well. His body is perfect for showcasing looks; excuse me if I get excited at opportunities to dress him in anything other than his usual obnoxiously bright blue and green.” Tao crossed his arms, ending the statement with his nose pointed imperiously in the air.
Jongin watched the car pull away from the curb towards the center of the road, Tao’s indignant voice fading as they moved further and further down the street. Baekhyun had only been driving for a year but he was already amazing at holding a steady four feet above the ground in free fly before reaching the magnetic strip that guided traffic. When they were out of sight, he let go of the energy he felt crackling around him. It rushed at him and for half a second everything was dark, and then a snap of light showed him the inside of his room. He was just unpacking his bag when he felt eyes on the back of his neck, making him turn to the door.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Jongin, I thought we talked about this.”
He returned to emptying to his schoolbag silently.
“Son, your father and I have told you to stop teleporting around. No one else on Earth does that.”
Jongin changed the subject, continuing as if he didn’t hear the harsh words.
“I’m going to the Academy party with you.”
Mrs. Kim stopped, surprised.
“Really? You never come…”
“Tao and Baekhyun are very convincing after three years.”
“Well, that’s good, sweetheart. You should be proud of your hard work; no one else has ever graduated at 17 in the years the Academy’s been open. But changing the subject doesn’t change that you need to stop using your powers.”
“And why should I, Mom?” Jongin turned to face her fully, not sure if the twisting in his gut was anger or exasperation.”
“I know I didn’t raise you to be like this, talking back and questioning adults. Let it go, Jongin.”
“Mom just this once, please, be honest. Why can’t I teleport, why do I have to hide it from everyone? Something happened to me that gave me these powers, and if you would just tell me-”
“No.”
“Why can’t I remember anything before I was nine? What happened? You and Dad are the top traveling diplomats in the Empire and your work is well documented across decades, so why are there eight years missing in all our textbooks?”
“This is the last time we’re having this conversation. Your father and I stopped working for eight years because we had you and we both wanted to spend time with you. There was a horrible accident, we don’t like talking about it, and this is final.”
“But Mom,”
“Don’t bother your father about this. It’s bad enough that we both left work to look after you and you still got hurt without adding on that you don’t remember anything.” Mrs. Kim pulled at the front of her shirt, tugging the hem out from where it was tucked in her skirt. It was an old nervous habit, but otherwise she stood firm and unwavering.
And then she was gone, and Jongin was left standing alone in his room. Again.
╔╗
“My King, it’s been so long since we were able to just sit like this.”
Gongyoo sighed, and reached out his hand for his wife. The duchess moved from her seat opposite his in the study to the chair next to him.
“I know Yeseul. Things in the kingdom have been hectic lately. I’m just as glad for this break as you are.”
Gongyoo pulled Yeseul in closer till her head rested against his shoulder. The embrace was intimate and relaxed, and Yeseul wondered if now was a good time to share her idea.
“…You know, maybe I could help.”
Gongyoo instantly stiffened and she rushed to continue.
“No, I know, I know. You and Eunhye run the government and Sungwoo runs the military, but there’s got to be something I can contribute to my country besides children.”
“Refer to them by their proper titles Dear. You aren’t to say their names so freely; Queen and General Supreme Shin.”
“Even in private must I be so formal?”
“You call me King.”
Yeseul pulls away from Gongyoo’s arms and turns aside. “I suppose I should just go. Nothing I’m saying is reaching you. I’ll just go tend to our three children.”
“Love, you’re more than just a mother to have children and you know it,” Gongyoo sighs. “My focus is domestic affairs, and the Queen focuses on foreign affairs, but we work together to rule. General Supreme Shin enforces the laws we create. These are our individual burdens to bear.”
He tries to bring her back into his hold but Yeseul is up and pacing the floor, the wide skirt of her sleepwear overcoat rustling.
“I don’t think you understand. I am not lady of the house I live in. I am not lady of the country my husband rules. The people don’t look to me for guidance, and the servants don’t look to me for the dinner menu. I have no authority, no control, and must fight to even have my husband’s time and attention. It would be less burdensome if I had some responsibility on my own to distract me.”
She was right. Gongyoo rose from his seat, meaning to say as much when the message horn in the corner began to crank. The box shuddered once, and then words poured from the large cone placed atop it.
“King Gongyoo, to the flight field, immediately. This is an emergency. Her Majesty and The Strategian require Your Grace immediately.”
Gongyoo sweeps up his robe and hits the box on the side to shut it off. Halfway down the hall he realizes he has no shoes, but Yeseul is there running ahead of him to set them down so he can step into them without breaking stride. She shrugs on her own coat and helps him into his own without slowing down. By the time they reach the gates to the flight field she’s got her hair neatly pinned back and they’re both presentable.
Yeseul steps back to let the heads of state confer. She focuses on trying to figure out what’s going on. In the flight field is a crashed starcruiser. A handful of the Queen’s most trusted servants bustle about. Yeseul sees two healers headed for one shed, and immediately run out to sprint to the starcruiser. It’s not on fire but it smells of smoke. Servants are crawling over it carefully, looking for something, when one of the healers notices something. It looks like a bundle of rags when she picks it up, but Yeseul has had swaddled three toddlers so they didn’t move around on starcruiser flights and can recognize the shape of the protective wrappings. This can be her thing, she thinks, and in her excitement interrupts the General Supreme mid-sentence.
“Do you think I could take care of the family? At least, of the mother and child?”
“Gongyoo, why is she here?” General Supreme Shin asks.
“We were lounging and she helped me to rush here, Sungwoo. I allowed her to accompany me, but I would have thought she headed back to the room by now.” Gongyoo stares down at Yeseul pointedly, and she can see she won’t be asked to help take care of any refugees that evening. She knows what she should do. She should head back to her quarters and sleep. She should wake up in the morning and not ask questions. She knows this is none of her affair, and that makes her angry. Before she can say something she shouldn’t, a small hand rests on her shoulder. She looks over into the face of her Queen.
“Thank you for your service Yeseul. We won’t be needing anything more from you tonight. Go, rest, and if I find myself wanting your assistance, we will call you.”
Yeseul bows graciously and walks away, seething. It was all the words she wanted to hear, but from the wrong person. Had her husband, her King, has said them they would have been words of affirmation and acknowledgment. Hearing them from her Queen only made her feel condescended to. Queen Eunhye, the woman who managed to have both her love and her King, though they were two different men. She commanded both of their attention first, and even with Gongyoo Yeseul was always an afterthought. She reached her own chambers and dismissed her maids before ripping off her clothes and flinging them around angrily. She had borne the kingdom three healthy, fully royal, beautiful sons and everyone had been so pleased until five years ago when Chanyeol was born. Even when she had children first Yeseul was second to Eunhye.
Yeseul sat awake all night by the light of her candles, mending the tears she’d caused in her clothes. At one point Gongyoo came by, but she blew out her candle and did not receive him. When he was gone she relit it and continued. By the time morning came, she was calm. Gongyoo summoned her for breakfast and was relieved she didn’t fuss about being excluded the night before. If she seemed less open of expressive he didn’t notice. He shared with her the story of the diplomat family that had left a nearby outpost in a rush and the crash landed on Vangel on their way to Earth- a woman, a man, and their three year old baby boy.
“Chanyeol has already pulled the little boy under his wing. It’s a good thing too; the servants all think the child was thrown from the starcruiser but the scene doesn’t add up. It may be that the child teleported out of harm’s way; if he does have the spark then spending time with our own Phoenix will be good for him.”
Yeseul slowed in cutting her fruit. Another damned child to show up her own? “How long will they be staying?”
“We’re not sure yet. The Queen and General Supreme feel like someone tried to attack the diplomat couple for a reason. There’s a five year plan in place to care for the family here while searching for perpetrators. If all seems well then they’ll head off to Earth. Any news after that we’ll investigate ourselves.”
Yeseul nodded. She excused herself from breakfast to go sit in the castle library; Gongyoo offered to come with her, a surprise since he never wanted to join her. Just as they entered the hall, a knight rushed up to them.
“Sire, Her Majesty requests you.”
“Very well.”
Gongyoo kissed his wife on the forehead and then followed the knight, leaving her to grind her teeth in the hall. She walked into the library and immediately headed for the back corner where those members of the court who fancied themselves thinkers and philosophers sat. She needed to build an alliance of sorts, and who better to control than someone who thinks they know everything?
╔╗
Earth was weird. It’s all Chanyeol could think as he walked around the shopping district. It had all the same technology as Vangel, but only one sun. It was clear that there was millenniums worth of history influencing the style of buildings, of cars, of clothing. Vangelion society wasn’t young by any means, but it was younger than human society on Earth, and clearly had developed all of its aesthetics in vacuum. The one thing that stood out to him here was that the young men didn’t cover their faces. On Vangel every man covered his face in public until he reached 20 and joined society officially and got a job. As he was only 19, he still wore his veil around town; it was stifling and irritating and he was happy he didn’t need it here.
He’d stashed his starcruiser in an abandoned field, dismantled its tracking and gps systems, cut the wires so it wouldn’t run and then put a glamor over it. No one was going to find his vehicle and if they did they wouldn’t be able to take it anywhere. In the event that someone did find it and managed to get it started, at least they wouldn’t send a homing beacon all the way back to Vangel trying to find directions to their favorite place.
His first goal was to find some clothing that would help him blend in. He’d brought his dullest clothes from Vangel, knowing that bright colors like he wore weren’t standard on Earth, and yet the flowing garments and loose hems still stood out from the straight lines and stiff material Earth humans wore. Chanyeol entered a small store off an alley. All he had was cash, and he’d gotten strange looks at the banks trading so many arc coins for won. Arcs were the common currency of the Empire, but apparently regular citizens didn’t use anything other than cards attached to accounts filled with won. Nervous about standing out, he was loath to head into a chain store with a pocket full of cash.
The sign above the store said Thrift; it was written in old fashion script with faux neon lights. Inside he found racks and racks of brown and black and navy blue and grey. All sleek and hard lines, the clothes still felt soft as he ran his fingers over them. He was in the midst of figuring how the sizing worked when he heard an intake of breath behind him. He turned around to see a young man nearly the same height as him with dark features, dark eyes, and darker hair. If it wasn’t for the way his eyes were sparkling as he stared at Chanyeol and the hands he held clasped in front of him, he might have given an aura of intimidation. Chanyeol knew he’d never seen the man before but he decided to play along just avoid suspicion.
“Um, do I know you?”
“Oh no, you don’t know me. We’ve never met each other before and you know it.”
This was getting concerning; Chanyeol thought the man was cute, in a “let me feed you cake and pat your face” kinda way, and really hoped the guy wasn’t there to trap him into going back home.
“Fine. You’re right, I realize that we’ve never met before; are you just going to stand there without introducing yourself, or…”
“No, no, my name is Huang Zitao, and you- those clothes aren’t from around here at all. You’re one of those hands on diplomatic students from the outposts, who take starcruisers and travel, aren’t you? Are you here for your culture immersion?”
“Yes. Yes I am.” Chanyeol couldn’t have invented that kind of backstory for himself if he wanted to. Most people would want to see his papers and certificates and talk about which teachers he liked best and which outposts he enjoyed the most if he tried a line like that. To have this random Earth native hand him a background on a silver platter was a stroke of luck he couldn’t have invented so quickly if he’d tried. This Tao kid looked like he came from money too; people would take him at his word and as long as Chanyeol spent his own cash hopefully no one would question if he was taking advantage of the boy. “I am indeed doing my culture immersion field project here on Earth, and I’m struggling but thing are going well enough. My name is Chanyeol.”
“Ah, that’s rough.”
“What?”
“Your parents- they named you after the Prince didn’t they? Hoped you’d measure up?”
“Uh, yeah. Do you really refer to him as the Prince here?”
Tao side eyed him, and Chanyeol almost regretted the question, but he really wanted to know. He knew no one would recognize him- he’d only been out veiled, but he didn’t want to seem too much of an outsider.
“Yeah, because he’s the Queen’s son. Do you not?”
“I’ve always referred to him as a Marksman, or Warrior, or Phoenix Born. He doesn’t ever really do princely things; I think Crown Prince Yifan is more of prince than he is.” Mentally Chanyeol patted himself on the back for managing to get through a sentence about himself in third person without tripping up, and fist pumped on the inside as Tao’s gaze relaxed.
“Oh yeah. I mean, he does all that too, and his work with magic and the military is the most expansive, but here on Earth we think his role as protector makes him more of a prince figure than anyone else in the royal family. He’s someone I’d trust to lead me, you know? Won’t ask you to do something he wouldn’t, understands the struggles of battle.” Tao spoke carefully, really trying to give Chanyeol a clear and honest answer. The look on his face suddenly shifted from thoughtful to sly hopefulness.
“Okay, look, I enjoy talking to you, honest, but you’re really tall and you have a great body and I would very much like to help you pick out clothes and see you try things on.”
Chanyeol couldn’t have answered if he knew what to say. The idea of him being a preferred ruler by anyone was unheard of and he was concerned with Zitao wanting to dress him.
“What?”
“That sounded really creepy didn’t it,” Tao pulled at his ear sheepishly and grinned, a light blush spreading on his cheeks, “I’m sorry. I’m in school to be a diplomat formally, but really I’m more of a social anthropologist and my main focus is on clothes. I really have an idea for a great outfit for you. You have money right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Chanyeol mumbled, still dazed. Next thing he knew he was outside being pulled across the street to a white hover car.
“Zitao, wait…”
“We’re friends now, call me Tao. Come on, we‘re going shopping.”
╔╗
Three hours later found Chanyeol and Tao sitting on cuboid benches that were more concrete chairs than anything else outside the shopping mega complex, surrounded by bags and sipping cool fruit drinks.
“You know Chanyeol, I realize I forced this friendship on you but I really hope this can continue mutually.”
“Oh, yeah?” Chanyeol readjusted the straw in his cup and peered at his newfound companion curiously.
“You are the only person who has ever managed to keep up with me on a shopping trip without complaining about being tired, or hungry, or bored with hearing about the century humanity spent without pockets and how important it is we have them back. And we bought more than I’ve ever been able to buy at once; you carried so many bags!”
Chanyeol didn’t need magic abilities to know that Tao was subtly trying to steer him towards an explanation for a student diplomat had the stamina and upper body strength to move around so easily with so many burdens. Nor did he need diplomatic skills or training to redirect the conversation without snubbing Tao. He didn’t need any of these things, but he had all of them; he gestured at Tao with the hand holding his cup and grunted around a mouthful of juice.
“Mm, you did say you were a clothes anthropologist; pockets would interest you, huh?” he questioned, latching on to the topic least likely to end in questions about his identity. “What exactly does a clothing anthropologist do, if I may ask?”
It wasn’t what Tao was looking to talk about but it was definitely a subject he wanted to discuss. His eyes lit up as he set the bag in his lap on the ground and leaned forward. Chanyeol could almost feel the excitement radiating off of him, and wondered how long it had been since he had a fresh and willing audience ready to listen to hear everything he had to say for the first time.
“Chanyeol, do you believe that clothes have secrets?”
“You mean, like, magic clothes with hidden messages woven in?”
Tao’s grin stretched wider. “Oh those are lovely, but I mean unenchanted clothes: normal, everyday wear that anyone can own.”
Chanyeol could only shake his head, “Enlighten me, please.”
“If you could go to any planet or post in the Empire, and go inside any house you wanted, and you could look in any person’s closet, you could find their whole life story. For example, their job. Do they have lots of pants and long sleeve shirts made of a light material? They probably work in the sun all day. If you add thick gloves and mud covered boots, you’ve probably found a farmer. The material the leisure clothes are made of, how worn they are can tell you about their finances; or at least, about how much they prioritize their clothes. You can tell social status from adornments and number of outfits. And if you could get the whole village, or town, or city’s clothes together- just looking at clothes can show you a whole planet’s civilization; what the hierarchy of labor is, if farmers or blacksmiths are more valued, if there are a lot of clerks.”
“And if I wear to look at a planet’s clothing over a period of time, I could see how the people specialized and grew over time.”
“Right, and how that branching out of specializations affected social standing and wealth!”
Chanyeol sat back, amazed. He thought of his own closet, left in a disarray back on Vangel and wondered what kind of story the wardrobe told about him. Probably a highly accurate one, considering his well-kept and well-worn fighting gear, his ink stained sleeves, the magic threads and knots in every shirt, and the untouched royal garments in the back corner.
“Tao, this is all amazing. Is this a well-studied field here on Earth?”
Tao slumped back, shoulders curving in a bit.
“No, not really. It’s actually mostly just me at the Academy. They’re letting me make it my focus and count it towards graduation, but it’s not out of any kindness. Practically everyone thinks that when I finish I’ll just take over my dad’s hovercar business and that Academy is just me following a hobby.”
Chanyeol had just convinced himself to try and console his new friend, maybe pat him on the shoulder, when Tao sprang up to sit straight again.
“But when I graduate my dad’s gonna send me on one last trip before I “settle down”, and I’m gonna ask him to send me to the capital planet, Vangel.” Tao leaned even closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially, eyes dancing. “Between us, I don’t think the King or any of his sons will care about my idea. But Prince Chanyeol- if I could just get an audience with him I know I could convince him this is important.
Hey, maybe, since you’re a Chanyeol, I could practice pitching my request for royal support and funding on you? And I could get used to working my diplomat skills on someone other than the kids in class?”
Chanyeol could only stare into Tao’s eyes and nod. He’d never planned on heading back to Vangel, never set a date. He had a deadline now though; he would be in the castle at the gates of the keep the very minute Tao arrived to receive him.
Tao stood up and stretched.
“So, Chanyeol. I kidnapped you and drove you here, and, as a thank you, I will drive you to wherever you’re staying so you don’t have to carry all these bags there. It’s the least I could do.”
“Actually, I haven’t check in anywhere yet. I really did just get to the city and I felt so self-conscious in these clothes that I went to that Thrift store before I even checked in anywhere. Any inn or hotel that you suggest would be greatly appreciated.”
Tao stared down at Chanyeol, mouth open and face aghast.
“Nonsense. An inn- never in my life have I- you will stay with me and that’s final.”
“As grateful as I am for the hospitality, I couldn’t possibly intrude on you and your family; you stay with your father, correct?”
“Not at all, I live on my own and it’s no intrusion if I invite you.”
“You are inviting a total stranger to live with you, and while I know that I’m harmless, I can’t in good faith let you make such a rash decision. Just put me up in a nice hotel and you can visit me as you like”
Chanyeol was standing now, and gathering his purchases to him. He paused, Tao’s hand resting on his arm. He looked over into eyes dark and fierce; suddenly Chanyeol was reminded of how close to intimidating Tao had seemed when they first met.
“Look. I have friends, two best friends at that. But one of them lives a life full of secrets he doesn’t even understand and the other is every inch the spoiled rich boy you probably thought I was when we met-”
“Hey, I didn’t-”
“Let me finish. You did and that’s fine. I love both my friends dearly, and we’re all rich, but they come from generations of money. My father worked for it. Both of them will probably end up diplomats who don’t need to travel, stationed in one place on an already stabilized post and sending in peace reports one a year. I’m going to have to work; I want to work.” Tao took a determined step into Chanyeol’s personal space, his face an open book of emotions.
“Today was the first time in a long time I’ve been able to teach a fresh audience, and the first time I’ve ever felt like I was sharing for fun and not to prove that what I care about is worth it. I know my friends support me and would never judge me, but sometimes they don’t get it. I feel like you do.”
“Oh, trust me I don’t.”
“If you didn’t, today wouldn’t have gone as well as it did. Please, Chanyeol? Just stay with me; my house is lonely. If it makes you feel better I’ll rent you the extra bedroom.”
They both stood there in silence, one pensive and one hopeful. Finally Chanyeol spoke.
“You promise to charge me like a real renter and not something that amounts to pennies a day?”
“I swear.”
“Alright, take me home. We’re drawing up a formal contract for this.”
Tao only smiled and grabbed a handful of bags before heading to the car.
previous/ next
“Later loser! You’re coming to the graduation party; don’t fight me on this or I will bring you forcibly.”
Jongin rolled his eyes and hiked his backpack higher up his shoulders. He stood in the middle of his front yard halfway to his house, his face a picture of indifference except for the small smile trying to flick up one corner of his mouth. “Whatever, Tao. The party’s not for another two weeks anyway, and God, can you please sit back down? Leaning out of the window like that is dangerous.”
He faced the black hovercar floating next to the curb and snorted at Tao hanging further out the passenger side window in defiance. The machine was ostentatious, its body styled to look like one of those old school Maserati’s from back when humans only lived on Earth. It even had windows that needed to be rolled down, rather than the usual membranes that dissolved out of existence with the touch of a button. Byun Baekhyun was the only person Jongin knew who still had glass windows.
“Ah!”
Jongin was suddenly next to the car supporting Tao. Both of them looked back at the driver with wide eyes.
“Don’t give me that look. I hardly moved the car at all;” Baekhyun groused, “Taozi you need to sit. I didn’t realize you were that far out of the window. Besides, our hero Jonginnie will always teleport to our rescue; it’s fine.”
Tao slumps back down in his seat, the fingers of one hand still wrapped around Jongin’s wrist, and cut his eyes away from Jongin to his other best friend.
“Thank you for your apology Baekhyun. No, really, I know you didn’t mean it and I forgive you. I’m just happy to hear you say you’re sorry.”
“Fine, fine. I am sorry, really. I don’t want you to die and I’m sorry I almost knocked you out of the vehicle.” Baekhyun leaned into the steering wheel so he could see around Tao to look at Jongin. “Seriously, we are coming back here to pick you up at 8, and we’ll go find you a good outfit. It’s the last party before you officially leave the Diplomatic and Intergalactic Training Academy and even your parents are attending as special alumni guests; you can’t skip out on this. You are coming, and you will be ready and happy when we get here night of or I’m going to send Tao in to dress you.”
Jongin felt the slightest pressure increase on his wrist. He would have thought he imagined it until he saw the kittenish smirk pulling at Tao’s face. He pulled his arm from Tao’s grip and just like that he was at his front door, key in hand.
“I get it, I have to come mingle with the Academy so they can show me off and drum up more money or you’ll let Tao feel me up.”
Tao swatted at Baekhyun’s arm with a petulant huff, “Stop making me sound like a creep; I’m not gonna feel you up.”
“Taozi,” Baekhyun started gently to avoid any further hits, “it kinda seems like you wanna feel Jonginnie up.”
“I like clothes, he wears clothes well. His body is perfect for showcasing looks; excuse me if I get excited at opportunities to dress him in anything other than his usual obnoxiously bright blue and green.” Tao crossed his arms, ending the statement with his nose pointed imperiously in the air.
Jongin watched the car pull away from the curb towards the center of the road, Tao’s indignant voice fading as they moved further and further down the street. Baekhyun had only been driving for a year but he was already amazing at holding a steady four feet above the ground in free fly before reaching the magnetic strip that guided traffic. When they were out of sight, he let go of the energy he felt crackling around him. It rushed at him and for half a second everything was dark, and then a snap of light showed him the inside of his room. He was just unpacking his bag when he felt eyes on the back of his neck, making him turn to the door.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Jongin, I thought we talked about this.”
He returned to emptying to his schoolbag silently.
“Son, your father and I have told you to stop teleporting around. No one else on Earth does that.”
Jongin changed the subject, continuing as if he didn’t hear the harsh words.
“I’m going to the Academy party with you.”
Mrs. Kim stopped, surprised.
“Really? You never come…”
“Tao and Baekhyun are very convincing after three years.”
“Well, that’s good, sweetheart. You should be proud of your hard work; no one else has ever graduated at 17 in the years the Academy’s been open. But changing the subject doesn’t change that you need to stop using your powers.”
“And why should I, Mom?” Jongin turned to face her fully, not sure if the twisting in his gut was anger or exasperation.”
“I know I didn’t raise you to be like this, talking back and questioning adults. Let it go, Jongin.”
“Mom just this once, please, be honest. Why can’t I teleport, why do I have to hide it from everyone? Something happened to me that gave me these powers, and if you would just tell me-”
“No.”
“Why can’t I remember anything before I was nine? What happened? You and Dad are the top traveling diplomats in the Empire and your work is well documented across decades, so why are there eight years missing in all our textbooks?”
“This is the last time we’re having this conversation. Your father and I stopped working for eight years because we had you and we both wanted to spend time with you. There was a horrible accident, we don’t like talking about it, and this is final.”
“But Mom,”
“Don’t bother your father about this. It’s bad enough that we both left work to look after you and you still got hurt without adding on that you don’t remember anything.” Mrs. Kim pulled at the front of her shirt, tugging the hem out from where it was tucked in her skirt. It was an old nervous habit, but otherwise she stood firm and unwavering.
And then she was gone, and Jongin was left standing alone in his room. Again.
╔╗
“My King, it’s been so long since we were able to just sit like this.”
Gongyoo sighed, and reached out his hand for his wife. The duchess moved from her seat opposite his in the study to the chair next to him.
“I know Yeseul. Things in the kingdom have been hectic lately. I’m just as glad for this break as you are.”
Gongyoo pulled Yeseul in closer till her head rested against his shoulder. The embrace was intimate and relaxed, and Yeseul wondered if now was a good time to share her idea.
“…You know, maybe I could help.”
Gongyoo instantly stiffened and she rushed to continue.
“No, I know, I know. You and Eunhye run the government and Sungwoo runs the military, but there’s got to be something I can contribute to my country besides children.”
“Refer to them by their proper titles Dear. You aren’t to say their names so freely; Queen and General Supreme Shin.”
“Even in private must I be so formal?”
“You call me King.”
Yeseul pulls away from Gongyoo’s arms and turns aside. “I suppose I should just go. Nothing I’m saying is reaching you. I’ll just go tend to our three children.”
“Love, you’re more than just a mother to have children and you know it,” Gongyoo sighs. “My focus is domestic affairs, and the Queen focuses on foreign affairs, but we work together to rule. General Supreme Shin enforces the laws we create. These are our individual burdens to bear.”
He tries to bring her back into his hold but Yeseul is up and pacing the floor, the wide skirt of her sleepwear overcoat rustling.
“I don’t think you understand. I am not lady of the house I live in. I am not lady of the country my husband rules. The people don’t look to me for guidance, and the servants don’t look to me for the dinner menu. I have no authority, no control, and must fight to even have my husband’s time and attention. It would be less burdensome if I had some responsibility on my own to distract me.”
She was right. Gongyoo rose from his seat, meaning to say as much when the message horn in the corner began to crank. The box shuddered once, and then words poured from the large cone placed atop it.
“King Gongyoo, to the flight field, immediately. This is an emergency. Her Majesty and The Strategian require Your Grace immediately.”
Gongyoo sweeps up his robe and hits the box on the side to shut it off. Halfway down the hall he realizes he has no shoes, but Yeseul is there running ahead of him to set them down so he can step into them without breaking stride. She shrugs on her own coat and helps him into his own without slowing down. By the time they reach the gates to the flight field she’s got her hair neatly pinned back and they’re both presentable.
Yeseul steps back to let the heads of state confer. She focuses on trying to figure out what’s going on. In the flight field is a crashed starcruiser. A handful of the Queen’s most trusted servants bustle about. Yeseul sees two healers headed for one shed, and immediately run out to sprint to the starcruiser. It’s not on fire but it smells of smoke. Servants are crawling over it carefully, looking for something, when one of the healers notices something. It looks like a bundle of rags when she picks it up, but Yeseul has had swaddled three toddlers so they didn’t move around on starcruiser flights and can recognize the shape of the protective wrappings. This can be her thing, she thinks, and in her excitement interrupts the General Supreme mid-sentence.
“Do you think I could take care of the family? At least, of the mother and child?”
“Gongyoo, why is she here?” General Supreme Shin asks.
“We were lounging and she helped me to rush here, Sungwoo. I allowed her to accompany me, but I would have thought she headed back to the room by now.” Gongyoo stares down at Yeseul pointedly, and she can see she won’t be asked to help take care of any refugees that evening. She knows what she should do. She should head back to her quarters and sleep. She should wake up in the morning and not ask questions. She knows this is none of her affair, and that makes her angry. Before she can say something she shouldn’t, a small hand rests on her shoulder. She looks over into the face of her Queen.
“Thank you for your service Yeseul. We won’t be needing anything more from you tonight. Go, rest, and if I find myself wanting your assistance, we will call you.”
Yeseul bows graciously and walks away, seething. It was all the words she wanted to hear, but from the wrong person. Had her husband, her King, has said them they would have been words of affirmation and acknowledgment. Hearing them from her Queen only made her feel condescended to. Queen Eunhye, the woman who managed to have both her love and her King, though they were two different men. She commanded both of their attention first, and even with Gongyoo Yeseul was always an afterthought. She reached her own chambers and dismissed her maids before ripping off her clothes and flinging them around angrily. She had borne the kingdom three healthy, fully royal, beautiful sons and everyone had been so pleased until five years ago when Chanyeol was born. Even when she had children first Yeseul was second to Eunhye.
Yeseul sat awake all night by the light of her candles, mending the tears she’d caused in her clothes. At one point Gongyoo came by, but she blew out her candle and did not receive him. When he was gone she relit it and continued. By the time morning came, she was calm. Gongyoo summoned her for breakfast and was relieved she didn’t fuss about being excluded the night before. If she seemed less open of expressive he didn’t notice. He shared with her the story of the diplomat family that had left a nearby outpost in a rush and the crash landed on Vangel on their way to Earth- a woman, a man, and their three year old baby boy.
“Chanyeol has already pulled the little boy under his wing. It’s a good thing too; the servants all think the child was thrown from the starcruiser but the scene doesn’t add up. It may be that the child teleported out of harm’s way; if he does have the spark then spending time with our own Phoenix will be good for him.”
Yeseul slowed in cutting her fruit. Another damned child to show up her own? “How long will they be staying?”
“We’re not sure yet. The Queen and General Supreme feel like someone tried to attack the diplomat couple for a reason. There’s a five year plan in place to care for the family here while searching for perpetrators. If all seems well then they’ll head off to Earth. Any news after that we’ll investigate ourselves.”
Yeseul nodded. She excused herself from breakfast to go sit in the castle library; Gongyoo offered to come with her, a surprise since he never wanted to join her. Just as they entered the hall, a knight rushed up to them.
“Sire, Her Majesty requests you.”
“Very well.”
Gongyoo kissed his wife on the forehead and then followed the knight, leaving her to grind her teeth in the hall. She walked into the library and immediately headed for the back corner where those members of the court who fancied themselves thinkers and philosophers sat. She needed to build an alliance of sorts, and who better to control than someone who thinks they know everything?
╔╗
Earth was weird. It’s all Chanyeol could think as he walked around the shopping district. It had all the same technology as Vangel, but only one sun. It was clear that there was millenniums worth of history influencing the style of buildings, of cars, of clothing. Vangelion society wasn’t young by any means, but it was younger than human society on Earth, and clearly had developed all of its aesthetics in vacuum. The one thing that stood out to him here was that the young men didn’t cover their faces. On Vangel every man covered his face in public until he reached 20 and joined society officially and got a job. As he was only 19, he still wore his veil around town; it was stifling and irritating and he was happy he didn’t need it here.
He’d stashed his starcruiser in an abandoned field, dismantled its tracking and gps systems, cut the wires so it wouldn’t run and then put a glamor over it. No one was going to find his vehicle and if they did they wouldn’t be able to take it anywhere. In the event that someone did find it and managed to get it started, at least they wouldn’t send a homing beacon all the way back to Vangel trying to find directions to their favorite place.
His first goal was to find some clothing that would help him blend in. He’d brought his dullest clothes from Vangel, knowing that bright colors like he wore weren’t standard on Earth, and yet the flowing garments and loose hems still stood out from the straight lines and stiff material Earth humans wore. Chanyeol entered a small store off an alley. All he had was cash, and he’d gotten strange looks at the banks trading so many arc coins for won. Arcs were the common currency of the Empire, but apparently regular citizens didn’t use anything other than cards attached to accounts filled with won. Nervous about standing out, he was loath to head into a chain store with a pocket full of cash.
The sign above the store said Thrift; it was written in old fashion script with faux neon lights. Inside he found racks and racks of brown and black and navy blue and grey. All sleek and hard lines, the clothes still felt soft as he ran his fingers over them. He was in the midst of figuring how the sizing worked when he heard an intake of breath behind him. He turned around to see a young man nearly the same height as him with dark features, dark eyes, and darker hair. If it wasn’t for the way his eyes were sparkling as he stared at Chanyeol and the hands he held clasped in front of him, he might have given an aura of intimidation. Chanyeol knew he’d never seen the man before but he decided to play along just avoid suspicion.
“Um, do I know you?”
“Oh no, you don’t know me. We’ve never met each other before and you know it.”
This was getting concerning; Chanyeol thought the man was cute, in a “let me feed you cake and pat your face” kinda way, and really hoped the guy wasn’t there to trap him into going back home.
“Fine. You’re right, I realize that we’ve never met before; are you just going to stand there without introducing yourself, or…”
“No, no, my name is Huang Zitao, and you- those clothes aren’t from around here at all. You’re one of those hands on diplomatic students from the outposts, who take starcruisers and travel, aren’t you? Are you here for your culture immersion?”
“Yes. Yes I am.” Chanyeol couldn’t have invented that kind of backstory for himself if he wanted to. Most people would want to see his papers and certificates and talk about which teachers he liked best and which outposts he enjoyed the most if he tried a line like that. To have this random Earth native hand him a background on a silver platter was a stroke of luck he couldn’t have invented so quickly if he’d tried. This Tao kid looked like he came from money too; people would take him at his word and as long as Chanyeol spent his own cash hopefully no one would question if he was taking advantage of the boy. “I am indeed doing my culture immersion field project here on Earth, and I’m struggling but thing are going well enough. My name is Chanyeol.”
“Ah, that’s rough.”
“What?”
“Your parents- they named you after the Prince didn’t they? Hoped you’d measure up?”
“Uh, yeah. Do you really refer to him as the Prince here?”
Tao side eyed him, and Chanyeol almost regretted the question, but he really wanted to know. He knew no one would recognize him- he’d only been out veiled, but he didn’t want to seem too much of an outsider.
“Yeah, because he’s the Queen’s son. Do you not?”
“I’ve always referred to him as a Marksman, or Warrior, or Phoenix Born. He doesn’t ever really do princely things; I think Crown Prince Yifan is more of prince than he is.” Mentally Chanyeol patted himself on the back for managing to get through a sentence about himself in third person without tripping up, and fist pumped on the inside as Tao’s gaze relaxed.
“Oh yeah. I mean, he does all that too, and his work with magic and the military is the most expansive, but here on Earth we think his role as protector makes him more of a prince figure than anyone else in the royal family. He’s someone I’d trust to lead me, you know? Won’t ask you to do something he wouldn’t, understands the struggles of battle.” Tao spoke carefully, really trying to give Chanyeol a clear and honest answer. The look on his face suddenly shifted from thoughtful to sly hopefulness.
“Okay, look, I enjoy talking to you, honest, but you’re really tall and you have a great body and I would very much like to help you pick out clothes and see you try things on.”
Chanyeol couldn’t have answered if he knew what to say. The idea of him being a preferred ruler by anyone was unheard of and he was concerned with Zitao wanting to dress him.
“What?”
“That sounded really creepy didn’t it,” Tao pulled at his ear sheepishly and grinned, a light blush spreading on his cheeks, “I’m sorry. I’m in school to be a diplomat formally, but really I’m more of a social anthropologist and my main focus is on clothes. I really have an idea for a great outfit for you. You have money right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Chanyeol mumbled, still dazed. Next thing he knew he was outside being pulled across the street to a white hover car.
“Zitao, wait…”
“We’re friends now, call me Tao. Come on, we‘re going shopping.”
╔╗
Three hours later found Chanyeol and Tao sitting on cuboid benches that were more concrete chairs than anything else outside the shopping mega complex, surrounded by bags and sipping cool fruit drinks.
“You know Chanyeol, I realize I forced this friendship on you but I really hope this can continue mutually.”
“Oh, yeah?” Chanyeol readjusted the straw in his cup and peered at his newfound companion curiously.
“You are the only person who has ever managed to keep up with me on a shopping trip without complaining about being tired, or hungry, or bored with hearing about the century humanity spent without pockets and how important it is we have them back. And we bought more than I’ve ever been able to buy at once; you carried so many bags!”
Chanyeol didn’t need magic abilities to know that Tao was subtly trying to steer him towards an explanation for a student diplomat had the stamina and upper body strength to move around so easily with so many burdens. Nor did he need diplomatic skills or training to redirect the conversation without snubbing Tao. He didn’t need any of these things, but he had all of them; he gestured at Tao with the hand holding his cup and grunted around a mouthful of juice.
“Mm, you did say you were a clothes anthropologist; pockets would interest you, huh?” he questioned, latching on to the topic least likely to end in questions about his identity. “What exactly does a clothing anthropologist do, if I may ask?”
It wasn’t what Tao was looking to talk about but it was definitely a subject he wanted to discuss. His eyes lit up as he set the bag in his lap on the ground and leaned forward. Chanyeol could almost feel the excitement radiating off of him, and wondered how long it had been since he had a fresh and willing audience ready to listen to hear everything he had to say for the first time.
“Chanyeol, do you believe that clothes have secrets?”
“You mean, like, magic clothes with hidden messages woven in?”
Tao’s grin stretched wider. “Oh those are lovely, but I mean unenchanted clothes: normal, everyday wear that anyone can own.”
Chanyeol could only shake his head, “Enlighten me, please.”
“If you could go to any planet or post in the Empire, and go inside any house you wanted, and you could look in any person’s closet, you could find their whole life story. For example, their job. Do they have lots of pants and long sleeve shirts made of a light material? They probably work in the sun all day. If you add thick gloves and mud covered boots, you’ve probably found a farmer. The material the leisure clothes are made of, how worn they are can tell you about their finances; or at least, about how much they prioritize their clothes. You can tell social status from adornments and number of outfits. And if you could get the whole village, or town, or city’s clothes together- just looking at clothes can show you a whole planet’s civilization; what the hierarchy of labor is, if farmers or blacksmiths are more valued, if there are a lot of clerks.”
“And if I wear to look at a planet’s clothing over a period of time, I could see how the people specialized and grew over time.”
“Right, and how that branching out of specializations affected social standing and wealth!”
Chanyeol sat back, amazed. He thought of his own closet, left in a disarray back on Vangel and wondered what kind of story the wardrobe told about him. Probably a highly accurate one, considering his well-kept and well-worn fighting gear, his ink stained sleeves, the magic threads and knots in every shirt, and the untouched royal garments in the back corner.
“Tao, this is all amazing. Is this a well-studied field here on Earth?”
Tao slumped back, shoulders curving in a bit.
“No, not really. It’s actually mostly just me at the Academy. They’re letting me make it my focus and count it towards graduation, but it’s not out of any kindness. Practically everyone thinks that when I finish I’ll just take over my dad’s hovercar business and that Academy is just me following a hobby.”
Chanyeol had just convinced himself to try and console his new friend, maybe pat him on the shoulder, when Tao sprang up to sit straight again.
“But when I graduate my dad’s gonna send me on one last trip before I “settle down”, and I’m gonna ask him to send me to the capital planet, Vangel.” Tao leaned even closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially, eyes dancing. “Between us, I don’t think the King or any of his sons will care about my idea. But Prince Chanyeol- if I could just get an audience with him I know I could convince him this is important.
Hey, maybe, since you’re a Chanyeol, I could practice pitching my request for royal support and funding on you? And I could get used to working my diplomat skills on someone other than the kids in class?”
Chanyeol could only stare into Tao’s eyes and nod. He’d never planned on heading back to Vangel, never set a date. He had a deadline now though; he would be in the castle at the gates of the keep the very minute Tao arrived to receive him.
Tao stood up and stretched.
“So, Chanyeol. I kidnapped you and drove you here, and, as a thank you, I will drive you to wherever you’re staying so you don’t have to carry all these bags there. It’s the least I could do.”
“Actually, I haven’t check in anywhere yet. I really did just get to the city and I felt so self-conscious in these clothes that I went to that Thrift store before I even checked in anywhere. Any inn or hotel that you suggest would be greatly appreciated.”
Tao stared down at Chanyeol, mouth open and face aghast.
“Nonsense. An inn- never in my life have I- you will stay with me and that’s final.”
“As grateful as I am for the hospitality, I couldn’t possibly intrude on you and your family; you stay with your father, correct?”
“Not at all, I live on my own and it’s no intrusion if I invite you.”
“You are inviting a total stranger to live with you, and while I know that I’m harmless, I can’t in good faith let you make such a rash decision. Just put me up in a nice hotel and you can visit me as you like”
Chanyeol was standing now, and gathering his purchases to him. He paused, Tao’s hand resting on his arm. He looked over into eyes dark and fierce; suddenly Chanyeol was reminded of how close to intimidating Tao had seemed when they first met.
“Look. I have friends, two best friends at that. But one of them lives a life full of secrets he doesn’t even understand and the other is every inch the spoiled rich boy you probably thought I was when we met-”
“Hey, I didn’t-”
“Let me finish. You did and that’s fine. I love both my friends dearly, and we’re all rich, but they come from generations of money. My father worked for it. Both of them will probably end up diplomats who don’t need to travel, stationed in one place on an already stabilized post and sending in peace reports one a year. I’m going to have to work; I want to work.” Tao took a determined step into Chanyeol’s personal space, his face an open book of emotions.
“Today was the first time in a long time I’ve been able to teach a fresh audience, and the first time I’ve ever felt like I was sharing for fun and not to prove that what I care about is worth it. I know my friends support me and would never judge me, but sometimes they don’t get it. I feel like you do.”
“Oh, trust me I don’t.”
“If you didn’t, today wouldn’t have gone as well as it did. Please, Chanyeol? Just stay with me; my house is lonely. If it makes you feel better I’ll rent you the extra bedroom.”
They both stood there in silence, one pensive and one hopeful. Finally Chanyeol spoke.
“You promise to charge me like a real renter and not something that amounts to pennies a day?”
“I swear.”
“Alright, take me home. We’re drawing up a formal contract for this.”
Tao only smiled and grabbed a handful of bags before heading to the car.
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