Work Text:
Jongdae rarely gets sick. He only caught seasonal flu once. He’s had a fever only three times in his life. The first time was when he saw his first cursed spirit at age five.
(He still remembers the haunting sight of its enormous fangs as it loomed over him, large long tail coiled around his body. Its hot searing breath; he felt like it burned his skin. The last thing he saw was the blistering white in the middle of its golden eyes that reminded him of a lightning spear, before he blacked out and woke up with high fever.
Now, Thunderstorm, as Jongdae named him, only appears when he summons him to exorcise curse spirits.)
The second fever was after his first visit to his father’s bishop when he was seven.
The last fever was a year ago. After he killed the sorcerer killer who pierced Baekhyun's chest with a cursed blade on their last mission together.
(Baekhyun was almost dead. Jongdae summoned almost all of his curses to kill the murderer. His fever lasted for a week.)
Jongdae rarely gets sick. So he frowns when Baekhyun places the back of his hand on his forehead, glaring because Baekhyun’s distracting him from observing Minseok performing the reverse cursed technique for the first years to learn.
Baekhyun mirrors his frown. “You’re not sick,” he states.
Jongdae rolls his eyes, swatting Baekhyun’s hand. “Thanks for the diagnosis.”
“But you look like you're sick.” Baekhyun still frowns. “Are you okay?”
His throat itches.
“I’m fine.” Jongdae shifts in his seat, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and focuses his gaze on Minseok. The words taste stale in his mouth. He subconsciously presses his thumb at the center of his neck.
He doesn’t miss the way Baekhyun’s eyes follow his movement before he looks away. The tip of his ear is bright red. “Well, I just asked cause you seem to be losing weight,” he says, slightly pouting, still not looking at Jongdae, watching his hands instead as they pull out the grass on the ground. “You usually lose weight quickly when you eat only a meal a day.”
The last things Jongdae ate are the mint gum Minseok gave to him this morning and the first grade curse from last night.
When Jongdae doesn’t respond, Baekhyun turns around, sending an accusing glare. “You did, didn’t you?”
Jongdae sends him a small smile. "It's just the weather."
Baekhyun stares at him for while, making Jongdae's neck tingles, itching look away only for Baekhyun groaning dramatically, snuggling his head into Jongdae's bony back, whining about the scorching heat of the summer, and egging Jongdae to skip the orientation Yunho ordered them to do for the new students. Yunho specifically told Jongdae to keep an eye on Baekhyun, so he wraps his hand on the back of Baekhyun’s neck, like Kyungsoo taught him, knowing Baekhyun never turns his Limitless on around him. Baekhyun immediately makes a screeching voice. Jongdae bites his grin as Baekhyun falls on his lap, squirming to get Jongdae’s hold off of his sensitive neck.
“Baekhyun!” As if on cue, Minseok calls from the ground, ignoring the first years who clap enthusiastically after he made the cut on Jongin’s arm miraculously disappear. (“It felt so cold, like he freezed my hand!” exclaims Jongin animatedly, showing up his arm excitedly to his new juniors.) Baekhyun looks up from the way his head perches on Jongdae’s lap, hair sticking out in all directions, staring at Minseok with squinted eyes. “You’re next.”
Jongdae hits a good luck punch on Baekhyun's arm as he gets to his feet, grunting about missing a grand opening of some bingsoo parlor in the city for this orientation. Jongdae chuckles as he stares at Baekhyun's hunched back, making a mental note to take him there tomorrow.
A year ago, Baekhyun was almost dead. Jongdae thought his life was just as dead.
Jongdae straightens his back as he observes the way Baekhyun manages to hold the pen Kyungsoo just threw at his face, floating around on air, while the eraser Jongin threw at the same time, landed on his forehead. Earning gasps from everyone. The red and blue light he strikes to the oak tree is even gaining bigger attention.
But here he is, becoming stronger than he ever has. Stronger than anyone.
Stronger than him.
“Jongdae, you’re next.”
Jongdae blinks. He glances at the first year students, the enthusiastic look on their face, then at the low grade curse behind the tree in the corner of the school yard, staring at its many eyes.
And this, Jongdae thinks most of the time, is the worst part of being u̶n̶d̶e̶a̶d̶ alive.
(When Jongdae gulps down the absorbed curse, he wants to throw up. Both from the bile taste at the back of his throat, and the intense stare from each one of his schoolmates.)
(Baekhyun’s concerned look, however, unsettles him the most.)
Jujutsu High School
To the Dean and Teachers
September 23, 2011
Assistant Supervisor Lee Jinki
Investigate Report on the Murder Incident Regarding Our School's Student
Subject of Investigation: Third grade student and a Special Grade Curse Manipulator, Kim Jongdae
"... It's an ability to manipulate and control cursed spirits.”
“You’re not sick like what your parents told you…”
“... They're inside you, the curses, taking control of your mind and body.”
“You’ve been absorbing and ingesting them with their manipulation…”
“... To take over, you have to learn how to do it with your own consciousness.”
“Exorcise. Ingest.”
At the first try, Jongdae only manages to sway the curse, their toothy grins and eyeless faces mocking him. But as he puts more strength at the second flick of his hand, they are slowly absorbed in the palm of his hand. In the form of a slick black orb.
With an unsure look, Jongdae stares at Yunho. He gives Jongdae an affirmative nod.
That’s the only cue for Jongdae to bring the orb to his mouth.
He bolts towards the toilet stall.
He firmly grips the rim of the toilet as he forces himself to swallow down the last gulp, like Yunho told him, trying hard to not choke as he feels the curse energy thrashing inside his throat, threatening to come out. He closes his eyes, mouth contorts, lips shut tightly as he tries to fight the puking, the rotting sour taste the curse left in his mouth. By the time he opens his eyes, his vision’s blurry of the tears welling in his eyes.
It’s never been like this before. But somehow it’s all familiar.
1. Incident Case Record
Date and Time of Occurrence: September 21, 2011. Around 9.00 PM
Place of Occurrence: Jeongwang, Siheung
Discovery of Occurrence: The assistant supervisor checked the target site after five days had passed since Kim Jongdae was dispatched to operate the mission.
Damage Status: Confirmed deaths of 112 of Jeongwang residents.
“Jongdae hyung, what do you want for your birthday? I heard Busan’s famous for its ssiat hotteok, do you want me to get you one?”
It was the last conversation Jongdae had with Jongin before he left Seoul. They talked about his birthday gift Jongin insisted on buying him no matter how often Jongdae told him he didn’t really want one.
Before the school received a call today that Busan needed a back up, and Baekhyun was immediately sent after.
It wasn’t a second grade cursed spirit.
Jongdae tucks the sheet over Jongin’s head. He looks up and catches Minseok’s gaze on him. Jongdae watches him as he slips his gloves and mask off, squeezing Kyungsoo’s shoulder before he shuffles out of the morgue. Leaving Jongdae alone with the smell of chemicals and death.
And Kyungsoo.
He’s been silent since he arrived an hour ago, sitting on a chair with his head leaning back on the wall, covering his eyes with his bandaged arm. Jongdae doesn’t miss the relentless clenching of his jaw and the wavering breaths he takes.
“You should take a rest, Kyungsoo. Baekhyun already took over the mission.”
“Might as well have him take care of all the missions,” comes Kyungsoo’s response, a gritted voice, slightly trembling.
A glimpse of a familiar sharp blade pierced to a more familiar broad chest flicks in Jongdae’s mind. He waves it away easily, not giving any reaction, not even a twitch on eyelids, like watching the same horror movie he watched for a thousand times, knowing when and how the haunting jumpscare scene was.
(The worst thing about watching the same movie repeatedly is you remember the lines well.)
(“Oh, Byun Baekhyun? He’s dead.”)
Jongdae hears the scraping sound of chair legs with the floor at the same time he hears Kyungsoo sighs. “What is the end of all this, Jongdae?”
Jongdae doesn’t give a response, as he stares at Jongin’s unmoving chest, the hollow in his abdomen.
He doesn’t know the answer.
He still doesn’t know when he watches Kyungsoo disappear behind the door.
He still doesn’t know while he slashes the murderer’s blade that he kept from a year ago into the giant worm of the curse form.
He still doesn’t know as he’s resting his cheek on the edge of the toilet bowl.
His harsh breath stirs his tousled hair, blurry eyes staring blankly at the wall when the question comes to his mind, haunting like a broken record. A new voice.
(What is the end of all this?)
Baekhyun’s pierced chest. The hole in Jongin’s stomach.
(What if the end of all this are the mountains of corpses of my friends?)
(It’s the first time for him to hear his own voice.)
Jongdae steps out of the stall and meets Baekhyun’s eyes. He looks like just finished cleaning up in the communal shower, still wet and half naked, towel hanging in his waist. If Baekhyun heard his prolonged gagging echo inside the stall, he doesn’t show it.
But Jongdae still wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform, muscle memory, as he walks towards the sink. He glances at Baekhyun’s dirty and bloodied uniform, hanging on the shower stand. Ever since Busan incident, the number of curses surges like maggots. And because of the shortage of jujutsu sorcerers, Jongdae and Baekhyun are sent on separate dangerous missions. Jongdae hardly ever see Baekhyun, except the gentle creak of his door swing closed Jongdae hear every night from his own room next door. The only sound that bring Jongdae a better sleep, the only assurance that there is no a higher killer curse or another sorcerer killer human who intervenes Baekhyun.
“Jongin’s funeral is tomorrow,” Jongdae starts, repeating the text from Kyungsoo he received this morning as he washes his hands. The dirt stuck in his fingertips.
“Oh,” Jongdae glances from the mirror as Baekhyun looks down, then stares back at him, guilt clouds his eyes. “I can't. I’m leaving in the morning for—”
“I know,” Jongdae cuts, sending him a knowing glance. Sorcerers aren’t allowed to grief.
"You are one of the strongest, Jongdae. You exist to protect the weak."
Strongest doesn’t grief.
(But the grief does come to him two days after Jongin’s funeral. Another funeral that he missed. When he’s alone. Not crying. In the toilet stall of the school dorm. Chin’s, dripping with saliva, against the cold porcelain. In the guise of the monstrous loathing towards the tingling sore on his tongue, the rotten lumps inside him.
In the shape of doubt, caging the core of his heart, curling in his mind.)
(Maybe he’s not the strongest after all.)
2. Summary of Kim Jongdae's Mission
There had been a report about some disturbances in Jeongwang. Incidents of strange disappearances and deaths of residents frequently occur—according to the client's information. Since it was surmised that 80% of the cases were caused by a cursed spirit, Kim was assigned to handle the mission alone to conduct a detailed on-site investigation and exorcise the curse spirit in question.
There was no prior request regarding this matter from the person himself and it was the school that ordered him to act alone. The reason is, it was judged in deference to Kim’s own experience points, and that it was feasible for him to act alone. In addition, the target curse was assumed to be a grade one; lower than Kim’s.
"This is the seventh case they have in fifteen years. Local precinct handled it as a serial homicide years back, but it has been a cold case since then." Yunho looks at him. "I assigned this to you hoping that the mission will be easy with your familiarity with the prefecture, but seeing your reaction, it's the first time for you to hear about this."
Jongdae stares at the picture on Yunho’s desk. "I didn't know we had a higher than third grade."
Yunho nods. "It's probably a first grade or a semi-special one, if all cases were rooted from the same cause. We'll know once you investigate it." He hands Jongdae the report paper. "I trust you can handle this on your own?"
Exorcise. Ingest.
Jongdae answers by taking the paper from Yunho’s hand, ignoring Yunho’s pleased smile as he takes a look at the client's address.
“I’d suggest you take Baekhyun, but the kid’s currently busy in Yeongju. I could—”
“I’m fine,” Jongdae cuts sharply, he clears his throat when Yunho stares at him, taken aback. “I’ll report back to you in three days.” He bows, then shuffles out of Yunho’s office.
Exorcise. Ingest.
3. Conjecture
On September 17, around 5 PM, Kim Jongdae arrived at Siheung alone. According to the arrangement with the assistant supervisor, Kim was staying at his own parents' house in Jeongwang, five blocks from the client's house. Then, it is said that he would begin the investigation the next day.
From that, it is estimated that from the time he began to act alone on September 18; he opened the case, investigated, and collected the target cursed spirit.
“Does Seoul do you any good?” is the first thing his father asks him when he arrives.
Jongdae nods, putting aside his phone after sending a report text to Jinki. He doesn't say anything else, choosing to get up to help his mother fixing plates and chopsticks on the dining table. Jongdae is a lousy liar. He doesn’t want his own mouth to betray him by accidentally telling his father that he doesn’t actually go to catholic school in Seoul, exposing Yunho’s perfect lie scheme he told his father when he came to offer Jongdae an enrollment in his special school three years ago.
“I’m a bit skeptical about the quality of the catholic school there. But seeing you and the zero phone call telling me that you’ve caused another trouble,” Jongdae’s mouth twitches into a wry smile as he washes his hands on the sink, thinking that he doesn’t need Baekhyun’s six eyes to know that his mother’s sending a threatening gaze to his father, and he ignores her, as usual. “I guess that principal of yours does his job well.”
A hand caresses his arm. “But I'm skeptical about the quality of the food instead,” His mother interrupts, clearly trying to change the topic, sending him a concerned look. “Because look at you.”
(“You usually lose weight quickly when you eat only a meal a day.”)
Jongdae forces a small smile. “I’m good, mom.”
“How long do you plan to stay?” His father asks as he pours himself a glass of wine.
As long as I’m done with the mission. Jongdae hands him a bowl of rice as he answers, “Just over the weekend.”
“So you won’t be here for Chuseok?” His mother says, sounding slightly disappointed. “Or your birthday?”
("Jongdae hyung, what do you want for your birthday?")
Jongdae thinks birthdays are not that big a deal. And if not for the mission, he actually hates the idea of coming home. Let alone staying until Chuseok, when the house will be packed with every member of his family. Including Jongdeok, and probably that one clergy member from his father’s family who used to handle Jongdae back in the day.
Jongdae subconsciously brushes the inside of his wrist as he shakes his head, giving her an apologetic smile. “I have to be back on Monday.”
"Maybe it's good that you don't stay for long with the current situation here."
Now Jongdae sees directly the threatening look his mother immediately sends to his father the moment he finishes the sentence. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "What situation?"
"Do you remember the old lady who used to scold you for messing with her garden?"
Messing is a big word for stealing a bunch of her hydrangea once, Jongdae thinks mentally. He still responds, however. "The caretaker in the orphanage?"
His father nods. "Well, she died. Last week people found her body behind the orphanage, hanging from a five meters tree, bruises all over her body, and the scary part is …" His father pauses. "The left side of her face and torso—"
"—were found melted," Jongdae finishes, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling stupid he didn't realize sooner that the situation his father mentioned is, of course, his own mission. It earns a surprised look from his parents. The one from his mother even lasts for a minute longer. "I, uh, read from the newspaper on the train," Jongdae lies, glancing at his room, thinking about the report paper and the pictures of apparently his neighbor's melted body on his old study desk.
"Don't worry, dear," His mother’s smiling reassuringly, completely misinterpreting his demeanor. "People already take care of it.”
Jongdae furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean people already take care of it?”
His father exchanges an odd glance with his mother before saying, "It’s not a common murder case.” And Jongdae knows almost exactly how uncommon the case is. “But people have already managed to get a hold of the problem. They’re keeping them in one of the abandoned cabins in the woods.” Jongdae’s eyebrows furrow harder, because non-sorcerer can’t even see cursed spirits, let alone capture them. “I heard they’d already called a shaman to deal with them, but I also called your uncle in case—”
“Them? ”
His father glances at him with that odd gaze he always sends to Jongdae, while his mother doesn’t even want to look him in the eyes.
“The possessed girls from the orphanage.”
Jongdae’s blood runs cold.
"They are the ones who've been responsible for the series of incidents," the client says, her eyes brimming with disgust and rage towards the two little girls behind the cage installed inside the old cabin. "They killed my mother."
Jongdae crouches down on his knee, meeting the frightened look they send to him as they hug each other in fear. They look so dirty, scared, and probably starving.
“My mother and I had been putting our whole life to handle these witches,” she sneers, mouth contorts in disgust, poison heavy in the last word. “We did everything we could.”
He glances at the red jarring line on the skin around their wrists and ankles, piled up on top of the other blue purplish faint lines. Jongdae’s identical old bruises on his wrists itch.
“Freak little monsters.”
("He’s a devil incarnate!”)
“I should’ve never brought them in.”
("He should've not lived here!")
“I should’ve let them die and rot there.”
(“No amount of soul cleansing will save your son.”)
“Kill them if you want.”
Jongdae looks up as a small sob escapes from behind the cage. One of the girls is crying. The other one tightens her hug as her little eyes now hooked at Jongdae, staring defiantly.
“Do whatever you want to them. I don’t give a damn about these monsters anymore.”
Jongdae rises and turns around, catching the sneer gaze his client gives them one last time, before she looks at Jongdae expectantly. He gives her his best smile.
“Let's step outside for a bit, shall we?”
However, since all the residents have died, there is no one left to testify.
An investigation into the cause of death determined they were all victims of cursed spirits. In addition, according to an inspection of the residuals from the site, it was concluded to be Kim Jongdae’s Curse Manipulation.
Jongdae doesn’t see that dragon with thunder-like eyes again.
But he often sees that lady who lives behind his school building. Her smile is so huge, it starts from below her ear to another. Jongdae wonders what makes her so happy. She always asks Jongdae if her smile is pretty. Jongdae thinks that every woman that he knows has a beautiful smile. His mother, his grandma, Soojung from his piano academy. So he always says ‘yes’ without hesitation. The lady always smiles wider.
Junmyeon is a boy but Jongdae thinks Junmyeon's smile is beautiful. Bright enough to make the worms inside his stomach writhing until they spark to fly.
And Jongdae hates it when Junmyeon’s smile turns upside down.
"He hurt my hands! I just messed up a bit with Junmyeon’s homework, but he hurt my hands!" A classmate cries, pointing at Jongdae.
The school calls his parents because that classmate’s mother said Jongdae was responsible for the burned skin and the sprains on his wrists. Jongdae doesn’t remember touching him.
"I get that they have been giving Jongdae a hard time.” The grasp of his mother’s hand on his is tighter at that sentence, Jongdae makes his gaze focus on it to avoid his father’s odd gaze on him. “But I suggest that it's better for Jongdae to come to me or the other teachers rather than handling it by himself."
The next day, Jongdae learns that he is moving out of the school and leaving Daejeon. Leaving Junmyeon and his grandmother.
Jongdeok hates him for the rest of the week. For making him leave his friends and his peaking career in the junior football team. Their mother bribes him with a puppy. A schnauzer. It was a cute puppy.
"Jongdae killed my dog!" Jongdeok cries to their parents. "Jongdae killed Shoo!”
Jongdae stares at the collar in his hands.
When he watched his mother wipe her tears after Jongdeok yelled at her for losing his favorite anime t-shirt in the laundromat, Jongdae felt a pang inside, as if something was tearing open his chest.
The only thing he remembers is he looked at Shoo, brushing her silky fur, thinking that Jongdeok loved her so much, before he found himself standing by the side of the street, Shoo’s collar on his hand, blinking as he watched Jongdeok crying beside her unconscious body.
Jongdae looks up and meets his mother’s eyes. Then, his father’s. That’s when Jongdae understands what their odd gaze means. But…
… what are they scared of?
(His mother hugs him in bed, murmuring prayer in his ears, while he stares at the wall of his room, wrists burningly ache, cheeks taut from the dried tears as he absentmindedly twists around the new rosary ring his mother gave him this morning on his finger, repeating the same prayer, until sleep catches him.)
"I already put the reverse cursed technique on his wound. He'll recover in less than a day."
Jongdae clasps his hands on Baekhyun's, weak and slightly cold. Baekhyun’s hands are always warm.
"We caught off guard, we thought we were safe when we reached the school ground, we didn't know."
"Still, it's reckless for him to turn off his Limitless just like that."
Jongdae clenches his jaw, grasping the hold in Baekhyun's hand tighter. Baekhyun may be the strongest, but it’s a week-long mission.
"We'll make sure it won't happen again."
"And what happened to Baekhyun's attacker?"
Still intertwined with Baekhyun’s, his finger scratches the skin on the back of his hand. Normie’s blood makes his skin itches.
"Jongdae finished him off."
According to the investigation that was conveyed by the assistant supervisor on September 21st, it is assumed that the massacre occurred on September 18th.
112 residents have died. In the subsequent arson, 70% of the village was burned down. It is believed that after killing the residents, Kim set fire to the village and fled.
Jongdae breathes with his mouth. His soaked hair sticks to his forehead and neck as he hangs his head low between his shoulder, trembling bloodied hands clenching the rim of the sink, the red stains the white porcelain.
The ring mark on his finger is tingling even after he threw it on the fire that burned his home.
"Jongdae-ssi," calls the little blonde, Seungwan, as Jongdae remembers from the worn-out hospital band on her wrist. Seulgi, the brunette, stayed by her side, staring at him worriedly. “Are you okay?”
Jongdae takes a stutter breath as he realizes the old voices are gone.
"Jongdae-ssi."
He also realizes that there’s only one voice inside his mind now.
"Jongdae."
He closes his eyes shut.
"Jongdae!"
He sees Thunderstorm, blood, fire, and the terror-stricken look in his mother's eyes.
("Jongdae!")
Among 114 registered residents, there are 112 physical traces/bodies found in the crime scene, including Kim Jongdae's own parents.
"We checked Jongdae's house, but it also has already been wiped out. Judging from the bloodstains and the cursed energy residuals, his parents were probably—"
"Even your own parents?" Baekhyun says through a gritted voice, eyes burning holes at Jongdae's back, cold and grim.
"I can't just give my parents the privilege," Jongdae says. "Besides, my family is not just them now."
What about the family you just abandoned? What about… me?
"That's not what I am asking," Baekhyun grits out instead, face contorts in frustration, in pain of swallowing his shattered heart. "I'm asking about your fucking righteousness, your stupid moral compass, your principle of not wanting to commit pointless murders."
"I have my reasons. There is a point."
"Killing non-sorcerers and creating a world only for sorcerers? Doing something so petty and absolutely unachievable is fucking pointless!" Baekhyun literally screams this out loud in the middle of a crowded street.
Jongdae laughs, short and bitter. "You're so arrogant."
Baekhyun blinks, feeling a sudden searing pain in his chest, crawling to his throat. Though he has no idea why. It's one thing others always say about him—the one thing he always shrugs off, because that's the cost of being the strongest, but, so is Jongdae—
Others but Jongdae .
"If it was you, you could do it, right, Baekhyun? Yet here you are, trying to convince others that it's absolutely unachievable." Jongdae, this time, finally turns back, a cold dark set of eyes staring straight at Baekhyun’s. "Are you the strongest because you're Byun Baekhyun? Or are you Byun Baekhyun because you're the strongest?"
"What the hell are you trying to say?"
"If I could become you, this petty unachievable ideal might actually be possible, don't you think?"
Baekhyun blinks.
"If I could become you."
If I could come with you.
Then, it all flashes before his eyes. The possibilities. Side by side with Jongdae, as he always has been. Jongdae's blinding smile among the flickering fire, his sweet laugh between the painful wailing, his cold soothing fingers drenched in fresh warm blood, holding Baekhyun's same bloody hand—
Baekhyun chokes on the terrifying thought, taking a stumbling step back. Making the distance between him and Jongdae longer.
(Yet the way Jongdae stares at him, he realizes Jongdae is already so far away. So long ago.)
"I have decided on my way of life. From now on, I will do what I can to achieve it," Jongdae says, so determined. (So long ago.)
And there's nothing Baekhyun can do to stop it.
Baekhyun clenches his teeth as he watches Jongdae walk away. He flicks his arm out, trembling fingers aiming at Jongdae’s back.
Nothing but—
"If you want to kill me, go ahead," Jongdae says without turning back, as if he's the one with Six Eyes. "There is also a point to that."
Regarding this incident, Kim’s motives remain unknown.
Aside from Kim's parents, Jeongwang resident registration information did not reveal anyone who had personal involvement with him prior to the mission.
He arrives at the wake. Jongdeok doesn’t even bother to let him in. Baekhyun, as he promised in their email, stays outside, holding his hands together in front, ignoring the prickling gaze from everyone, as his eyes hooked on Jongdeok walking towards him, a white-black armband snuggled on his arm.
“Here you go, take this,” Jongdeok thrusts a small jewelry box into Baekhyun’s hands, hurriedly, as if it makes his hands burn. “And please, just leave my family alone,” Jongdeok says with a quiver in his voice, staring at Baekhyun with desperation in his eyes. The same dark set of eyes.
Baekhyun looks away, swallowing thorns growing in his throat.
“And tell the same thing to him,” Jongdeok says one last time, tightly, before he disappears from Baekhyun’s sight.
Baekhyun laughs bitterly. How could I?
He leaves the wake. Jongdae’s ring inside his pocket is heavy with every step.
4. Punishment Here On, etc.
Kim Jongdae is now at large.
In accordance with Article 9 of Jujutsu Regulations, he is subject to execution as a Curse User.
"Responsible for the mass murder that occurred in 2011 and the terror happened in Seoul and Daegu recently, Special Grade Curse User Kim Jongdae will be sentenced to death.
Special Grade Sorcerer Byun Baekhyun will be the appointed executioner."
Years later, Baekhyun still wakes up from a nightmare of a faint pink orange sky of the dusk, the blood seeping into the gaps of concrete bricks, and Jongdae’s last smile.
("I want Byun Baekhyun," Seulgi says, tightening her grasp on Seungwan's trembling hand. "Dead."
The stitched-face man smirks. "Consider it done. But in order to do it," he touches Jongdae's pale cold body, finger brushing the curve of his neck until it stops at the juncture of his shoulder, where it lacks an arm that's supposedly there. "I have to borrow your master's body."
Seulgi stares at him bewilderedly as Seungwan moves way past her to hover over Jongdae's body, staring at the man with fury in her eyes. "Stay away from him!"
Ignoring Seungwan, the man stares at Seulgi, mismatched eyes brimming with expectation.
Seulgi gulps. "How so?"
Seungwan gasps. "Seulgi!"
"Did Kim Jongdae never tell you about Byun Baekhyun?" The man asks instead, grabbing Jongdae's cold hand and caressing his fingers. "What is he to him?”
"A friend. His one and only," Seulgi answers, but keeps eyeing the man's hand on Jongdae's finger, ready to strike him if he dares to harm Jongdae's body, but the man only takes off a ring on his finger. Seulgi furrows her eyebrows. A ring that had never been there before.
The ring makes a soft clink sound when the man throws it in the sink. He then grins creepily. "Exactly.")