[Round 3] #75 (R3 Archive) On the way to the orange grove, before the temple on the hill, there sit
Title: On the way to the orange grove, before the temple on the hill, there sits a small shrine.
Pairing: Xiumin-centric
Side pairing(s): in the current bit, attached below, there's kind of platonic!Xiumin/Whee-in (of Mamamoo)[Full Fic Ver]full fic, none that I know of?
Rating: G[Full Fic Ver]full fic is probably PG-13.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Currently nothing that I know of[Full Fic Ver]full fic: Main character "death", supporting character death, brief mentions of alcohol consumption.
Summary: Minseok thought that humans were always such precious creatures, back then and now.
Author's Notes: Thank you, endlessly, to the mods (especially Mod Blue Bunny) for your seemingly never-ending patience and kindness and support of me and my little story. I certainly wouldn't have made it without it. I hope I can continue talking to you guys about my little story (though it's not so little anymore xD) as I work to complete it. I really hope you guys enjoy it, once it's finished.
I also need to thank fellow ficdom writer, curledupkitten (here), for their fic in the territory of the dragon king. Forgive me, for I've never actually finished your fic, as I just want to stay in little Jeolbyeog-ri forever. I hope people will feel the same for mine, once completed. Though our fics are nothing alike in plot or characters, I felt the tone I've tried so desperately to achieve in my fic was similar to yours. I read the first chapter many, many times while writing this story (and will continue to read it again and again, I'm sure), and owe your fic to keeping me writing more often than not.
I also owe an apology to the prompter, as I wasn't able to finish my fic in time to fill your prompt properly, and for that I am so sorry. This snippet you're about to read is only a small part of Minseok's story, and doesn't fulfill your prompt much at all. I scrapped what I could together of the two most primary relationships in Minseok's life into a hopefully cohesive, though short, story, and I hope you will enjoy it enough to wait for me.
The summary is almost a direct quote to a line at the end of the story The Dew God's Small Shrine from the Japanese manga (and anime), Natsume's Book of Friends -- which heavily inspired essentially the entirety of my fic. Minseok and Whee-in are my Tsuyukami and Hana-san.
Minseok’s life began on an early spring morning. There was a clearing in a wood that a young child would play in. Out of an ache for companionship, the child picked up a rock and declared it his friend. The child cleaned the rock of dirt and took it with him on many trips. As the child grew older, he soon did not need the rock, and one day, took the rock back to the clearing from which he had found it, and bid farewell.
The rock had been with the boy for many years at this point, and began to feel sad that he was no longer needed by the boy. He had learned many things from the boy, he had even been given a name! He soon began to cry, as he was just a silly stone among many other stones.
Why is this? He thought. Surely, if he was a human as well, he could be of use to someone. But as a rock? No one needed a rock! He cried and cried and begged the heavens to make him human. But, the heavens did not seem bothered by this one stone’s cries.
One morning, a young man came upon him and hearing the rock cry, asked him why he was so sad. The rock was amazed that someone, finally, could hear him.
I wish to be human! He said. The young man laughed and sat softly. The rock stared in awe. The young man moved in such an odd way, as if he was light as air and yet, the grass swayed when he sat like any other man the rock had seen.
“What is your name, little one?” Asked the young man. He even looked straight at the rock! He was practically vibrating with excitement.
Minseok! Minseok is my name! He beamed as much as a rock could, for no one since the boy all that while ago had ever been curious as to if he had a name or what it might be. The young man paused for a second, and then laughed. Eventually he was crying, and Minseok felt… odd. Why was this man laughing? Is my name… strange? And then Minseok began to feel sad all over again. The strange feeling bubbled up in Minseok and he yelled out.
The young man stopped laughing and looked at Minseok. “I did not mean to upset you,” he spoke quietly. Minseok wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so he merely stared back at the young man.
The pair sat quietly for a while, until the young man eventually asked Minseok for what reason did he want to be a human?
I can be useful, then! No one would throw me away if I am a human! Minseok told the young man about all of the adventures he had with the boy, and that how, if he was a human, he could do that all by himself! The young man stood when Minseok had finished and, plucking Minseok from the ground, began walking. Where are you taking me? Asked Minseok.
The young man did not answer. It had been such a long time since Minseok had been taken anywhere, though, he was content to just watch the scenery.
After some time, the young man asked Minseok a question.
“Would you like to be like me? I am not a human, but I get to see many humans every day. And help them, on occasion.”
Minseok was puzzled. The young man looked like every human he had ever seen. But -- to look like one and help them? Of course!
Minseok agreed immediately. It sounded like a splendid plan to him. The young man chuckled, and smiled down at Minseok.
“Then let our journey begin!” When Minseok cheered, the young man laughed even more.
~~
Minseok was sitting just inside his shrine, having decided that it was still much too cold to go out and greet the morning.
Nonetheless, the day was abound; birds were already awake and singing.
Minseok yawned. Soon, some people from the village were winding their way up the path to come and leave their offerings and prayers to him.
One woman trailed behind the small group, walking slowly leading a child with her. Minseok looked on in awe. The last time he had seen the child was when it was still a baby, cocooned in blankets and very asleep.
The mother looked tired, the creases around her eyes deeper than he remembered them last, but the smile that lit up her face as her and the small child reached the shrine filled Minseok with warmth. She was well, and Minseok could be at ease.
After giving birth, she had fell ill for a time. Minseok had started to grow very worried when her husband had arrived one afternoon, disheveled and unsure. He wasn't a believer of Minseok's (or the Wind God), but there he had stood. He had hovered in front of Minseok's shrine for a time, Minseok watching him, wishing he could help but feeling that it wasn't his place to do so. So he stayed where he was and waited.
And waited.
And waited. Until the man had finally taken a tentative step forward, and then another, his brows knitted together in confusion and fear.
He’d stumbled through offering food to Minseok until it was time for him to pray. His prayer had been simple and had landed in Minseok's stomach like a rock.
"Please let my wife and child be in good health." He had spoken sincerely, despite his non-belief, and Minseok had hoped, too, that everything would be alright.
And here she was, with said child in tow!
The little child toddled up to the shrine and plopped down front and center when instructed. Minseok wanted to laugh, the little child was bundled up almost to their nose! The young woman kneeled and told the child to greet the deity, laying her hands on top of one another level with her chin and leaning forward. The child was not very good at bowing while sitting at the same time, almost toppling over (much to his amusement), but Minseok appreciated the effort, nonetheless.
Minseok finally learned that the child's name was Whee-in as her mother asked her to help set the dishes on the alter (which doubled as Minseok's front stoop).
The food she had prepared was simple, bibimbap and a small cup of now-lukewarm tea that Minseok was eager to try.
The mother's prayer was for her family to have good health and that the orchard would have a plentiful crop.
Whee-in became grumpy at not being able to eat the bibimbap her mother had laid out, and her chin began to wobble.
Whee-in's mother spoke soothingly to her, insisting she could eat some of the extra bibimbap she had brought along if Whee-in would pray. Whee-in just needed to close her eyes and ask the deity for something that she wanted.
Whee-in clasped her tiny hands together as instructed, closed her eyes and said, "I want the bibimbap mama made!"
Minseok snorted. That's not quite how it works, little one.
He almost gave it to her, anyway, just for being so cute.
~~
It seemed as though Whee-in grew up before Minseok’s eyes, visiting his shrine almost daily on her way to and from school or to the orchard to pick up her mother.
Minseok settled beside his shrine, having just returned from fishing. It was still too early to catch anything (and Minseok wasn’t very good at it, either), but it was calming and a nice way to spend the better part of an early summer day.
He stretched out his legs and rubbed at his back, sore from the slouching. The path to his shrine never needed much attention during summer unless there was a storm, so Minseok had a whole afternoon to spend however he liked. He contemplated going up to the orchard and seeing Yixing. Perhaps they could walk the back of the orchard that was often left forgotten, all of the in-season fruit not weighing down the branches scattered around the ground just waiting to be picked.
Minseok’s daydreaming about fruit was interrupted when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Whee-in, stiffly making her way up to the shrine, clutching her school books tightly to her chest.
Minseok’s brow furrowed in concern. Did something happen? Was she injured?
Whee-in all but collapsed at the entrance, sucking in a breath before bursting into tears.
Minseok had froze. He had had people come to his shrine before and cry, but most weren’t as young as Whee-in, and with slightly less dramatic cries. Minseok’s chest constricted and he had just sat there, entirely unsure of what to do.
So he let her cry and cry and cry, until her face was red with exertion, snot and tears indiscernible.
Once Whee-in had calmed down and wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeves, and scrubbed at her face with the palms of her hands, she told the deity what had her so distraught.
Hyejin, Whee-in’s best friend since she had started middle school, was to move away. Minseok felt her pain, and looked across the path, at nothing and everything, taking a deep breath. He knew he couldn’t answer her prayers to make Hyejin’s family stay.
The cicadas in the trees buzzed noisily, and Minseok wished that he could help in some way, offer a handkerchief, and tell her that it would be alright. That Hyejin and Whee-in needn’t stop being friends just because they would now live apart.
But Minseok didn’t. He sat there, until the silence was almost deafening, with nothing but cicadas buzzing and Whee-in sniffling to break the silence.
The sun had begun to set before Minseok saw anyone else. Hyejin had walked speedily up the path, skidding to a stop at the foot of Minseok’s shrine. She had eased around Whee-in, telling her it was time to go home, they could go to old Park halmeoni’s food stand in town, peaches were in season and wasn’t that great? They could spend the whole summer eating all the peaches they wanted - maybe even until they hated them.
Eventually, Hyejin had just grabbed Whee-in when it became clear that the soft-spoken words and stroking of her hair weren’t working, and yanked her upright. Whee-in cried some more, until they were both crying (and Minseok certainly felt like crying). Hyejin tossed Whee-in’s books into her bag before putting her arm around Whee-in, and slowly started walking back down the path, to carefully guide Whee-in home.
When Minseok had gone to the orchard that evening, he hadn’t picked any peaches.
~~
One brisk fall day, a few summer’s having passed, Minseok’s wish came true. He was cleaning, clearing the path to his shrine of leaves and debri when he remembered he should also clear the branches off of his shrine and sweep the alter. He had been doing just that, when a voice called out to him.
“What are you doing?! What if you disturb him?” Whee-in marched right up to Minseok and glowered at him. Minseok sputtered.
He had been a deity for so long that he had forgotten he could also be seen based on a person’s mood or when the weather was just right.
“A god’s home should be cleaned, too,” Minseok offered.
Whee-in had little to say to that. After a pause, Minseok had returned to cleaning. Eventually, a second pair of hands was reaching up to help dust leaves off of his roof, and pull branches out between his entry-way’s gate.
When the sun was much lower in the sky, nearing dusk, Minseok looked around and declared it done. He was proud. Together, they had gotten much more done than Minseok would have by himself.
Awkwardly, he had bid farewell to Whee-in, and grabbed his broom and walked up the path towards the Wind God’s temple.
In the following weeks, as the weather got colder and even more leaves than Minseok thought possible fell, Whee-in kept visiting.
They spoke mostly of mundane things, Minseok awkwardly dancing around the questions of where he was from or what school had he attended. What he was always doing at the shrine.
Then, on a completely sunny, windless day, Whee-in didn’t see Minseok when she arrived. He was never one for understanding how it worked, his ability to appear to humans. When he wasn’t in control of it, it was largely up to fate.
She walked up and down the path multiple times, until she was less looking for Minseok to appear and more pacing out of concern that he wasn’t.
Minseok felt guilty, at first. He could’ve appeared if he had truly wanted to, and they could talk about what Whee-in was studying in school or how it looked like they might get an early snowfall.
But something in Minseok stopped him, told him that he shouldn’t keep doing this. Eventually, Whee-in would grow up - grow up more than Minseok - to where he couldn’t pretend he was a human anymore.
It hurt Minseok, that he couldn’t even bring himself to appear and let Whee-in see him, let alone say goodbye.
Maybe Minseok wasn’t good with goodbyes. That was probably it.
Whee-in waited until nightfall, before her mother had come trotting down the path. At the sound, Whee-in whipped around, her braids flying. Her shoulders had sagged a bit at seeing who it was. Her mother seemed relieved to see Whee-in, and it occurred to Minseok that Whee-in had not been picking up her mother at the orchard during their meetings.
Whee-in’s mother gestured towards Minseok’s shrine and with a tired smile, greeted the deity. She swept off the alter with her hands and looked over at Whee-in, still standing behind her.
“You always pick the sweetest ones,” she held out the large cloth sack filled with oranges.
Whee-in stepped forward and rummaged around, jumping slightly when her mother moved her braids out of the way. Whee-in’s mother let out a breath, her eyes dark. There was a sadness drifting behind her irises. Minseok wondered what could be wrong, but his thoughts were interrupted when Whee-in held up an orange and stated “This one is the best!” in a high pitched, nassaly voice. Her mother chuckled at Whee-in’s childishness and beckoned her to sit.
It struck Minseok that it had been a long time since he’d seen the two together to pray at his shrine. Something turned in Minseok’s stomach, and he exhaled. In all the conversations he and Whee-in had shared, he never would have suspected anything to be wrong.
Whee-in’s grandmother was ill, according to her mother’s prayer, and it was quite serious.
Minseok closed his eyes and cast up his own prayer to the heavens, that she may be alright. He wasn’t sure it would work, but it was all he could do.
Whee-in prayed for Minseok. It rooted him to the ground, and he felt his face heat up as his blood ran cold. She wished for him to be in good health (Minseok had never caught a cold before, so he doubted he would be in bad health anytime soon) and also for a chance to see him again.
-
Mod Note: Due to time constraints, this fic is unfinished and this is a condensed version of a full fic that the writer will release later on.
Pairing: Xiumin-centric
Side pairing(s): in the current bit, attached below, there's kind of platonic!Xiumin/Whee-in (of Mamamoo)[Full Fic Ver]full fic, none that I know of?
Rating: G[Full Fic Ver]full fic is probably PG-13.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Currently nothing that I know of[Full Fic Ver]full fic: Main character "death", supporting character death, brief mentions of alcohol consumption.
Summary: Minseok thought that humans were always such precious creatures, back then and now.
Author's Notes: Thank you, endlessly, to the mods (especially Mod Blue Bunny) for your seemingly never-ending patience and kindness and support of me and my little story. I certainly wouldn't have made it without it. I hope I can continue talking to you guys about my little story (though it's not so little anymore xD) as I work to complete it. I really hope you guys enjoy it, once it's finished.
I also need to thank fellow ficdom writer, curledupkitten (here), for their fic in the territory of the dragon king. Forgive me, for I've never actually finished your fic, as I just want to stay in little Jeolbyeog-ri forever. I hope people will feel the same for mine, once completed. Though our fics are nothing alike in plot or characters, I felt the tone I've tried so desperately to achieve in my fic was similar to yours. I read the first chapter many, many times while writing this story (and will continue to read it again and again, I'm sure), and owe your fic to keeping me writing more often than not.
I also owe an apology to the prompter, as I wasn't able to finish my fic in time to fill your prompt properly, and for that I am so sorry. This snippet you're about to read is only a small part of Minseok's story, and doesn't fulfill your prompt much at all. I scrapped what I could together of the two most primary relationships in Minseok's life into a hopefully cohesive, though short, story, and I hope you will enjoy it enough to wait for me.
The summary is almost a direct quote to a line at the end of the story The Dew God's Small Shrine from the Japanese manga (and anime), Natsume's Book of Friends -- which heavily inspired essentially the entirety of my fic. Minseok and Whee-in are my Tsuyukami and Hana-san.
Minseok’s life began on an early spring morning. There was a clearing in a wood that a young child would play in. Out of an ache for companionship, the child picked up a rock and declared it his friend. The child cleaned the rock of dirt and took it with him on many trips. As the child grew older, he soon did not need the rock, and one day, took the rock back to the clearing from which he had found it, and bid farewell.
The rock had been with the boy for many years at this point, and began to feel sad that he was no longer needed by the boy. He had learned many things from the boy, he had even been given a name! He soon began to cry, as he was just a silly stone among many other stones.
Why is this? He thought. Surely, if he was a human as well, he could be of use to someone. But as a rock? No one needed a rock! He cried and cried and begged the heavens to make him human. But, the heavens did not seem bothered by this one stone’s cries.
One morning, a young man came upon him and hearing the rock cry, asked him why he was so sad. The rock was amazed that someone, finally, could hear him.
I wish to be human! He said. The young man laughed and sat softly. The rock stared in awe. The young man moved in such an odd way, as if he was light as air and yet, the grass swayed when he sat like any other man the rock had seen.
“What is your name, little one?” Asked the young man. He even looked straight at the rock! He was practically vibrating with excitement.
Minseok! Minseok is my name! He beamed as much as a rock could, for no one since the boy all that while ago had ever been curious as to if he had a name or what it might be. The young man paused for a second, and then laughed. Eventually he was crying, and Minseok felt… odd. Why was this man laughing? Is my name… strange? And then Minseok began to feel sad all over again. The strange feeling bubbled up in Minseok and he yelled out.
The young man stopped laughing and looked at Minseok. “I did not mean to upset you,” he spoke quietly. Minseok wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so he merely stared back at the young man.
The pair sat quietly for a while, until the young man eventually asked Minseok for what reason did he want to be a human?
I can be useful, then! No one would throw me away if I am a human! Minseok told the young man about all of the adventures he had with the boy, and that how, if he was a human, he could do that all by himself! The young man stood when Minseok had finished and, plucking Minseok from the ground, began walking. Where are you taking me? Asked Minseok.
The young man did not answer. It had been such a long time since Minseok had been taken anywhere, though, he was content to just watch the scenery.
After some time, the young man asked Minseok a question.
“Would you like to be like me? I am not a human, but I get to see many humans every day. And help them, on occasion.”
Minseok was puzzled. The young man looked like every human he had ever seen. But -- to look like one and help them? Of course!
Minseok agreed immediately. It sounded like a splendid plan to him. The young man chuckled, and smiled down at Minseok.
“Then let our journey begin!” When Minseok cheered, the young man laughed even more.
~~
Minseok was sitting just inside his shrine, having decided that it was still much too cold to go out and greet the morning.
Nonetheless, the day was abound; birds were already awake and singing.
Minseok yawned. Soon, some people from the village were winding their way up the path to come and leave their offerings and prayers to him.
One woman trailed behind the small group, walking slowly leading a child with her. Minseok looked on in awe. The last time he had seen the child was when it was still a baby, cocooned in blankets and very asleep.
The mother looked tired, the creases around her eyes deeper than he remembered them last, but the smile that lit up her face as her and the small child reached the shrine filled Minseok with warmth. She was well, and Minseok could be at ease.
After giving birth, she had fell ill for a time. Minseok had started to grow very worried when her husband had arrived one afternoon, disheveled and unsure. He wasn't a believer of Minseok's (or the Wind God), but there he had stood. He had hovered in front of Minseok's shrine for a time, Minseok watching him, wishing he could help but feeling that it wasn't his place to do so. So he stayed where he was and waited.
And waited.
And waited. Until the man had finally taken a tentative step forward, and then another, his brows knitted together in confusion and fear.
He’d stumbled through offering food to Minseok until it was time for him to pray. His prayer had been simple and had landed in Minseok's stomach like a rock.
"Please let my wife and child be in good health." He had spoken sincerely, despite his non-belief, and Minseok had hoped, too, that everything would be alright.
And here she was, with said child in tow!
The little child toddled up to the shrine and plopped down front and center when instructed. Minseok wanted to laugh, the little child was bundled up almost to their nose! The young woman kneeled and told the child to greet the deity, laying her hands on top of one another level with her chin and leaning forward. The child was not very good at bowing while sitting at the same time, almost toppling over (much to his amusement), but Minseok appreciated the effort, nonetheless.
Minseok finally learned that the child's name was Whee-in as her mother asked her to help set the dishes on the alter (which doubled as Minseok's front stoop).
The food she had prepared was simple, bibimbap and a small cup of now-lukewarm tea that Minseok was eager to try.
The mother's prayer was for her family to have good health and that the orchard would have a plentiful crop.
Whee-in became grumpy at not being able to eat the bibimbap her mother had laid out, and her chin began to wobble.
Whee-in's mother spoke soothingly to her, insisting she could eat some of the extra bibimbap she had brought along if Whee-in would pray. Whee-in just needed to close her eyes and ask the deity for something that she wanted.
Whee-in clasped her tiny hands together as instructed, closed her eyes and said, "I want the bibimbap mama made!"
Minseok snorted. That's not quite how it works, little one.
He almost gave it to her, anyway, just for being so cute.
~~
It seemed as though Whee-in grew up before Minseok’s eyes, visiting his shrine almost daily on her way to and from school or to the orchard to pick up her mother.
Minseok settled beside his shrine, having just returned from fishing. It was still too early to catch anything (and Minseok wasn’t very good at it, either), but it was calming and a nice way to spend the better part of an early summer day.
He stretched out his legs and rubbed at his back, sore from the slouching. The path to his shrine never needed much attention during summer unless there was a storm, so Minseok had a whole afternoon to spend however he liked. He contemplated going up to the orchard and seeing Yixing. Perhaps they could walk the back of the orchard that was often left forgotten, all of the in-season fruit not weighing down the branches scattered around the ground just waiting to be picked.
Minseok’s daydreaming about fruit was interrupted when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Whee-in, stiffly making her way up to the shrine, clutching her school books tightly to her chest.
Minseok’s brow furrowed in concern. Did something happen? Was she injured?
Whee-in all but collapsed at the entrance, sucking in a breath before bursting into tears.
Minseok had froze. He had had people come to his shrine before and cry, but most weren’t as young as Whee-in, and with slightly less dramatic cries. Minseok’s chest constricted and he had just sat there, entirely unsure of what to do.
So he let her cry and cry and cry, until her face was red with exertion, snot and tears indiscernible.
Once Whee-in had calmed down and wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeves, and scrubbed at her face with the palms of her hands, she told the deity what had her so distraught.
Hyejin, Whee-in’s best friend since she had started middle school, was to move away. Minseok felt her pain, and looked across the path, at nothing and everything, taking a deep breath. He knew he couldn’t answer her prayers to make Hyejin’s family stay.
The cicadas in the trees buzzed noisily, and Minseok wished that he could help in some way, offer a handkerchief, and tell her that it would be alright. That Hyejin and Whee-in needn’t stop being friends just because they would now live apart.
But Minseok didn’t. He sat there, until the silence was almost deafening, with nothing but cicadas buzzing and Whee-in sniffling to break the silence.
The sun had begun to set before Minseok saw anyone else. Hyejin had walked speedily up the path, skidding to a stop at the foot of Minseok’s shrine. She had eased around Whee-in, telling her it was time to go home, they could go to old Park halmeoni’s food stand in town, peaches were in season and wasn’t that great? They could spend the whole summer eating all the peaches they wanted - maybe even until they hated them.
Eventually, Hyejin had just grabbed Whee-in when it became clear that the soft-spoken words and stroking of her hair weren’t working, and yanked her upright. Whee-in cried some more, until they were both crying (and Minseok certainly felt like crying). Hyejin tossed Whee-in’s books into her bag before putting her arm around Whee-in, and slowly started walking back down the path, to carefully guide Whee-in home.
When Minseok had gone to the orchard that evening, he hadn’t picked any peaches.
~~
One brisk fall day, a few summer’s having passed, Minseok’s wish came true. He was cleaning, clearing the path to his shrine of leaves and debri when he remembered he should also clear the branches off of his shrine and sweep the alter. He had been doing just that, when a voice called out to him.
“What are you doing?! What if you disturb him?” Whee-in marched right up to Minseok and glowered at him. Minseok sputtered.
He had been a deity for so long that he had forgotten he could also be seen based on a person’s mood or when the weather was just right.
“A god’s home should be cleaned, too,” Minseok offered.
Whee-in had little to say to that. After a pause, Minseok had returned to cleaning. Eventually, a second pair of hands was reaching up to help dust leaves off of his roof, and pull branches out between his entry-way’s gate.
When the sun was much lower in the sky, nearing dusk, Minseok looked around and declared it done. He was proud. Together, they had gotten much more done than Minseok would have by himself.
Awkwardly, he had bid farewell to Whee-in, and grabbed his broom and walked up the path towards the Wind God’s temple.
In the following weeks, as the weather got colder and even more leaves than Minseok thought possible fell, Whee-in kept visiting.
They spoke mostly of mundane things, Minseok awkwardly dancing around the questions of where he was from or what school had he attended. What he was always doing at the shrine.
Then, on a completely sunny, windless day, Whee-in didn’t see Minseok when she arrived. He was never one for understanding how it worked, his ability to appear to humans. When he wasn’t in control of it, it was largely up to fate.
She walked up and down the path multiple times, until she was less looking for Minseok to appear and more pacing out of concern that he wasn’t.
Minseok felt guilty, at first. He could’ve appeared if he had truly wanted to, and they could talk about what Whee-in was studying in school or how it looked like they might get an early snowfall.
But something in Minseok stopped him, told him that he shouldn’t keep doing this. Eventually, Whee-in would grow up - grow up more than Minseok - to where he couldn’t pretend he was a human anymore.
It hurt Minseok, that he couldn’t even bring himself to appear and let Whee-in see him, let alone say goodbye.
Maybe Minseok wasn’t good with goodbyes. That was probably it.
Whee-in waited until nightfall, before her mother had come trotting down the path. At the sound, Whee-in whipped around, her braids flying. Her shoulders had sagged a bit at seeing who it was. Her mother seemed relieved to see Whee-in, and it occurred to Minseok that Whee-in had not been picking up her mother at the orchard during their meetings.
Whee-in’s mother gestured towards Minseok’s shrine and with a tired smile, greeted the deity. She swept off the alter with her hands and looked over at Whee-in, still standing behind her.
“You always pick the sweetest ones,” she held out the large cloth sack filled with oranges.
Whee-in stepped forward and rummaged around, jumping slightly when her mother moved her braids out of the way. Whee-in’s mother let out a breath, her eyes dark. There was a sadness drifting behind her irises. Minseok wondered what could be wrong, but his thoughts were interrupted when Whee-in held up an orange and stated “This one is the best!” in a high pitched, nassaly voice. Her mother chuckled at Whee-in’s childishness and beckoned her to sit.
It struck Minseok that it had been a long time since he’d seen the two together to pray at his shrine. Something turned in Minseok’s stomach, and he exhaled. In all the conversations he and Whee-in had shared, he never would have suspected anything to be wrong.
Whee-in’s grandmother was ill, according to her mother’s prayer, and it was quite serious.
Minseok closed his eyes and cast up his own prayer to the heavens, that she may be alright. He wasn’t sure it would work, but it was all he could do.
Whee-in prayed for Minseok. It rooted him to the ground, and he felt his face heat up as his blood ran cold. She wished for him to be in good health (Minseok had never caught a cold before, so he doubted he would be in bad health anytime soon) and also for a chance to see him again.
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Mod Note: Due to time constraints, this fic is unfinished and this is a condensed version of a full fic that the writer will release later on.