[Fic] Heart, Mind and Soul [1/?]
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Prologue
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There weren’t many things he wouldn’t do since he needed the money.
The two guards lead him into a waiting room. The room was bare except for two chairs and a table. The light up above was a florescent panel that flickered occasionally.
He had realized that at this day and age, fast money sometimes meant dirty hands. He had been ready for it.
I need the money, I need the money, I need the money-was his mantra as his sweaty palms rubbed together.
He had tried to make an honest living. He had tried to get through school and find a job and settle down normally. But they wouldn’t let him. Society wouldn’t let him. He wasn’t normal they (school teachers, employers, peers, elders, all of them) said.
He had a gift and all people with these gifts were freaks, monsters and not normal.
“Kim Jaejoong,” a crisp voice said behind him. The door swung open and closed very efficiently and the taps of expensive shoes echoed against the concrete floor. “Thank you for coming.”
The man who sat down was probably younger than he was but much richer. He wore a black suit with a gold tiepin, silk white button up and custom-made leather shoes. Well, Jaejoong imagines the other man’s clothes to be because the younger one at least looked like he was worth something. Not like Jaejoong. No, because he wasn’t worth anything.
“I’m Max,” the younger man said briefly before setting down four take out boxes. He pushed one to Jaejoong, opened his own and began to eat. “Please, you look like you could use some more weight.”
Jaejoong stared but didn’t touch the food. They remained in silence as Max ate and Jaejoong stared. The younger man steadily consumed all three containers of food. Jaejoong felt the familiar stab of hunger but didn’t touch the food.
“Sorry, I didn’t have much for lunch,” Max shrugged, wiping his mouth with a cheap paper napkin. “So let’s get to business shall we?”
Jaejoong merely nodded.
“I hear you have a gift,” Max asked. “Is that true?”
Jaejoong hesitated but nodded nonetheless.
“May I ask what it is?”
Jaejoong reached out his hand and waited. Max looked at the outstretched arm and his lips set into a grim line. Jaejoong kept his arm up and hand palm up. Max slowly placed his hand into the proffered one.
The room melted into white. A blinding light flashed once. Max closed his eyes on reflex and waited for the light to subside.
“Hello, Shim Changmin,” a gentle voice greeted.
Shim Changmin, alias Max, snapped his eyes open. Sitting across from him was no longer a mute, dirty man on the brink of starvation, but a beautiful man with soulful eyes and a smile that soothed the soul.
“…is this your gift?” Changmin asked. Around them, a world was being built. Cold skyscrapers and broken bridges could be seen on the distance while the warm sun gently light up the sky. Soon the only things left from before were the two chairs and the table.
“Yes,” Jaejoong replied. “I can build the landscape of your heart, mind and soul.”
---
Jaejoong hadn’t been too sure what his job was, but he followed the young man through an underground maze without a word. He needed the money and for once, someone wanted to use his gift.
Changmin had been surprised at his appearance in the landscape, but Jaejoong had somewhat expected that. Just because he wasn’t a beautiful man in real life didn’t mean his soul was just as ugly.
Jaejoong followed and smothered silent giggle.
Changmin looked all scary and intimidating but Jaejoong knew the younger man wasn’t. Maybe lonely and worried but definitely not a bad man. If Jaejoong finished this job for him, Changmin will give him the money. He was a fair person like that.
Jaejoong could tell from the other’s landscape.
He’d never tell Changmin of this but even his gift had rules.
Your heart rules the weather. Your mind creates the land. Your soul creates your body, his mother had one told him. His dear mother with the same gift.
Changmin’s Landscape had been sunny (warm, protecting) with skyscrapers (modern, ambitious) and cleanly broken bridges (self induced loneliness with reason). The man himself had looked roughly in his teens (trusting, worried, unsure, loyal, bright, proud).
But he’d never tell Changmin of this.
Of a far off island at the end of the only bridge still standing (a dark secret that means more to Changmin that the man could even imagine for himself). Of a building reaching into dark clouds from that far off island (the only stain on Changmin’s heart which is ironically the one he protects the most).
But he’d never tell Changmin of this, of how dangerous it is for his heart and mind to be at such odds with each other, of how worrisome it is for his soul to still take shape of an adolescent, of how fatal-no, he’d never tell Changmin.
Because Jaejoong needs the money.
He’s not a saint or a healer.
He’s a just monster.
---
The curtains are pulled around the figure lying on the bed. Only a hand was laid outside of the curtain.
Changmin walked to the bed and Jaejoong followed silently.
“This…he is your job,” the younger man whispers, voice cracking.
Jaejoong looks at the curtains but sees nothing. He looks down at the hand and guesses the bedridden person couldn’t have been more than thirty years old. Definitely older than Changmin, but maybe not older than Jaejoong.
“Kill him.”
Jaejoong looks to Changmin and stares. He then looks to the guards, both equipped with loaded guns. With black sunglasses and stony expressions, the guards seemed to stare right back.
“No, no, no,” Changmin chuckles dryly, realizing Jaejoong’s confusion. “Kill him without physically harming him.”
Jaejoong looks at Changmin.
“Yes I know,” Changmin says in a low voice. “I am a disgusting human being.”
Jaejoong is startled that he let his guard drop but the deed was dirty beyond comparison.
To kill a person physically at least allowed them to live on to a certain extent (some say though collective consciousness) but to kill a person’s soul meant wiping out that person’s existence entirely.
With Jaejoong gift, he could do that. Kill the person without even harming a hair on the person’s body. He could kill the very roots that bind a person to the rest of humanity. He could wipe out the soul.
And he will.
Jaejoong sat down and gently took the other’s hand in his. The room, including Changmin and the stony guards, melted to white.
A blinding flash of light and the landscape slowly began building.
Because Kim Jaejoong needed the money.
---
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A/N: First full blast YunJae fic! It was just an idea that hit me while eating dinner. I think it was inspired by something but I don’t quite remember what that something was.
I hope this isn’t too strange of a plot, haha. Thanks for reading! I would love some feedback~!
Prologue
---
There weren’t many things he wouldn’t do since he needed the money.
The two guards lead him into a waiting room. The room was bare except for two chairs and a table. The light up above was a florescent panel that flickered occasionally.
He had realized that at this day and age, fast money sometimes meant dirty hands. He had been ready for it.
I need the money, I need the money, I need the money-was his mantra as his sweaty palms rubbed together.
He had tried to make an honest living. He had tried to get through school and find a job and settle down normally. But they wouldn’t let him. Society wouldn’t let him. He wasn’t normal they (school teachers, employers, peers, elders, all of them) said.
He had a gift and all people with these gifts were freaks, monsters and not normal.
“Kim Jaejoong,” a crisp voice said behind him. The door swung open and closed very efficiently and the taps of expensive shoes echoed against the concrete floor. “Thank you for coming.”
The man who sat down was probably younger than he was but much richer. He wore a black suit with a gold tiepin, silk white button up and custom-made leather shoes. Well, Jaejoong imagines the other man’s clothes to be because the younger one at least looked like he was worth something. Not like Jaejoong. No, because he wasn’t worth anything.
“I’m Max,” the younger man said briefly before setting down four take out boxes. He pushed one to Jaejoong, opened his own and began to eat. “Please, you look like you could use some more weight.”
Jaejoong stared but didn’t touch the food. They remained in silence as Max ate and Jaejoong stared. The younger man steadily consumed all three containers of food. Jaejoong felt the familiar stab of hunger but didn’t touch the food.
“Sorry, I didn’t have much for lunch,” Max shrugged, wiping his mouth with a cheap paper napkin. “So let’s get to business shall we?”
Jaejoong merely nodded.
“I hear you have a gift,” Max asked. “Is that true?”
Jaejoong hesitated but nodded nonetheless.
“May I ask what it is?”
Jaejoong reached out his hand and waited. Max looked at the outstretched arm and his lips set into a grim line. Jaejoong kept his arm up and hand palm up. Max slowly placed his hand into the proffered one.
The room melted into white. A blinding light flashed once. Max closed his eyes on reflex and waited for the light to subside.
“Hello, Shim Changmin,” a gentle voice greeted.
Shim Changmin, alias Max, snapped his eyes open. Sitting across from him was no longer a mute, dirty man on the brink of starvation, but a beautiful man with soulful eyes and a smile that soothed the soul.
“…is this your gift?” Changmin asked. Around them, a world was being built. Cold skyscrapers and broken bridges could be seen on the distance while the warm sun gently light up the sky. Soon the only things left from before were the two chairs and the table.
“Yes,” Jaejoong replied. “I can build the landscape of your heart, mind and soul.”
---
Jaejoong hadn’t been too sure what his job was, but he followed the young man through an underground maze without a word. He needed the money and for once, someone wanted to use his gift.
Changmin had been surprised at his appearance in the landscape, but Jaejoong had somewhat expected that. Just because he wasn’t a beautiful man in real life didn’t mean his soul was just as ugly.
Jaejoong followed and smothered silent giggle.
Changmin looked all scary and intimidating but Jaejoong knew the younger man wasn’t. Maybe lonely and worried but definitely not a bad man. If Jaejoong finished this job for him, Changmin will give him the money. He was a fair person like that.
Jaejoong could tell from the other’s landscape.
He’d never tell Changmin of this but even his gift had rules.
Your heart rules the weather. Your mind creates the land. Your soul creates your body, his mother had one told him. His dear mother with the same gift.
Changmin’s Landscape had been sunny (warm, protecting) with skyscrapers (modern, ambitious) and cleanly broken bridges (self induced loneliness with reason). The man himself had looked roughly in his teens (trusting, worried, unsure, loyal, bright, proud).
But he’d never tell Changmin of this.
Of a far off island at the end of the only bridge still standing (a dark secret that means more to Changmin that the man could even imagine for himself). Of a building reaching into dark clouds from that far off island (the only stain on Changmin’s heart which is ironically the one he protects the most).
But he’d never tell Changmin of this, of how dangerous it is for his heart and mind to be at such odds with each other, of how worrisome it is for his soul to still take shape of an adolescent, of how fatal-no, he’d never tell Changmin.
Because Jaejoong needs the money.
He’s not a saint or a healer.
He’s a just monster.
---
The curtains are pulled around the figure lying on the bed. Only a hand was laid outside of the curtain.
Changmin walked to the bed and Jaejoong followed silently.
“This…he is your job,” the younger man whispers, voice cracking.
Jaejoong looks at the curtains but sees nothing. He looks down at the hand and guesses the bedridden person couldn’t have been more than thirty years old. Definitely older than Changmin, but maybe not older than Jaejoong.
“Kill him.”
Jaejoong looks to Changmin and stares. He then looks to the guards, both equipped with loaded guns. With black sunglasses and stony expressions, the guards seemed to stare right back.
“No, no, no,” Changmin chuckles dryly, realizing Jaejoong’s confusion. “Kill him without physically harming him.”
Jaejoong looks at Changmin.
“Yes I know,” Changmin says in a low voice. “I am a disgusting human being.”
Jaejoong is startled that he let his guard drop but the deed was dirty beyond comparison.
To kill a person physically at least allowed them to live on to a certain extent (some say though collective consciousness) but to kill a person’s soul meant wiping out that person’s existence entirely.
With Jaejoong gift, he could do that. Kill the person without even harming a hair on the person’s body. He could kill the very roots that bind a person to the rest of humanity. He could wipe out the soul.
And he will.
Jaejoong sat down and gently took the other’s hand in his. The room, including Changmin and the stony guards, melted to white.
A blinding flash of light and the landscape slowly began building.
Because Kim Jaejoong needed the money.
---
---
A/N: First full blast YunJae fic! It was just an idea that hit me while eating dinner. I think it was inspired by something but I don’t quite remember what that something was.
I hope this isn’t too strange of a plot, haha. Thanks for reading! I would love some feedback~!