Chapter 1

"Last chance..?"
Wonshik shook his head, pushing away the offered pigskin bottle and wiped his sweaty face with the back of his wrist.
"Your loss." His best friend, Hakyeon, shrugged and downed the few drops of water that were left.
The summer days were growing longer and hotter, and each year he worked out here on this sprawling island, Wonshik swore that the heat was only getting worse. As a kid he came with his older brother Hongbin and they picked hundreds of ripe mangoes off the trees to package and send back to the mainland for sale. They would spend the nights looking at the stars, wrestling, making up constellations, munching on the imperfect fruit until falling asleep with juice-smeared faces.

Since last year, Hongbin had a left their home island of Mabo (in their language, it was known as the Starlit Isle) in search of a real job on the mainland, leaving Wonshik alone and without family. It was a lonely reminder for Wonshik now to be here without his brother, but he still wouldn’t have missed this seasonal work for anything.

As the sun began to sink over the glittering ocean, the pair of youths sat on the scant grass, sweat pouring off them both. Boxes of perfect mangoes were stacked on the wagon, and the ground was littered with the imperfects, left free for birds and bugs alike to devour.
"You ready?" Hakyeon broke the silence again, throwing out a fist to hover as invitation for scissors-paper-rock.
Wonshik groaned, and lurched up to his feet.
"No, you always beat me. I'll just do it tonight." He padded over to the heavy wagon, hoisted it up the frame and began the trek back to the docks.
"If you threw anything but rock maybe you would stand a chance against me. But nope-,” Hakyeon poked the side of Wonshik’s forehead, “-looks like your big brother got all the brains and the looks in the family.”
“Whatever.” Wonshik huffed with effort, smiling in spite of himself.

They followed the downhill path towards the shoreline, the wooden wheels of the old wagon shuddering over each bump and rock. Their bare feet made no sound in the dirt and dust, and with the concentration required to carry the heavy burden, Wonshik was happy to let Hakyeon fill the silence with his non-stop talking.
“Sometimes I think you just like to lose…but then I remember how good I am and that passes.” Hakyeon nodded to himself, stretching his sore shoulders and let out a whine. “Why did I let you convince me to come here? This place is boring, all we get to do is pick fruit all day, give it to the ships and then they sell it to God knows who? Probably more rich people. And what do we get? Sore muscles, tired feet, while the people in the white mansion watch us and laugh. Why am I here, Wonshik? Why are you here?”

Wonshik bore all of this with a small smile, and tossed one to Hakyeon. If his upper body wasn’t straining, every inch of his caramel skin streaked with sweat, he might have shrugged. Hakyeon smiled back, then remembered his complaints and frowned.
“Yah! You’re not supposed to look happy! This is hard work, and you’re getting practically nothing for it…” He glanced down at his own tanned
skin, darkening with each day he spent in the sun just like his friend. “Look how much sun I absorbed! This is not good! I’m starting to look like you!”
Raising his eyebrows, Wonshik managed a quiet, “What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re a fisherman, you look like a fisherman, and you’re meant to be out in the sun. I’m-,”
“-a delicate flower.” Wonshik teased.

The trees that flanked each step now began to clear as the hill flattened towards the shoreline. Visible in the growing darkness, lights from two ships were docked at the piers were waiting. Wonshik knew that at least one ship was waiting for the boxes he was pulling, but the other ship was much smaller, had only one light, and was hard to see from this distance. It looked familiar but he was not about to get his hopes up.
“Laugh all you want, I’m not built for hard labour like you.”
Wonshik nodded, knowing Hakyeon’s complaint to be the truth. They practically shared the same height, but that was where the similarities ended. Wonshik, four years younger, had an expressive boyish face that hid few emotions well, and eyes that drooped so that he looked sleepy even when wide awake. His body was well proportioned for his height, strong shoulders moulded by tireless dragging and casting of fishing nets, and long legs that helped him scramble over slippery rocks, steady him on wavy boat rides, and hands calloused by a lifetime of hard work. His hair was a deep red, unusual in his village, with some strands lightened by sunlight to a brassy sheen.

Hakyeon, on the other hand, was the village leader’s son and had a life spent talking and telling the other villagers what to do. His body was lean and fit, his muscles nowhere near the strength of Wonshik’s, but Haykeon was not the type to ignore hard work when it needed to be done. The cuts and burns on his hands and arms were from the kitchen, as he was not only the next in line to lead the village, but also had aspirations as a cook.

With a loud, clear voice so different from Wonshik’s deep, husky tones, Hakyeon also commanded people’s attention with his unusual beauty. His features were softer than Wonshik’s; wide eyes, a delicate nose, and round cheeks. He was popular with all of the women in the village for his looks, and more than once had received marriage offers even from other major island clans.
It seemed strange to Wonshik that while obviously flattered by (and sometimes boastful of) the propositions, Hakyeon appeared not to take any of them seriously. At 27, Hakyeon was late in age for marriage, yet he showed no signs of wanting to settle. Perhaps, Wonshik thought, that was the fortune of beautiful people – they were used to being adored and desired so they could treat these matters flippantly. His older brother Hongbin was another who was blessed to be in the same category; it was a life that Wonshik would never know.
“I am not coming with you here next summer, you go by yourself. I can’t believe you do this for three whole weeks! We have more than enough work to do at home, and at least we can quit the day whenever we want. You better have not been lying to me about our agreement.”
“I’m not, I wouldn’t.”

They were getting close to their destination. Hakyeon patted Wonshik’s sweaty shoulder, not bothered by the slickness rubbing onto his palm.
His voice grew softer, fonder as he followed up with a pinch to Wonshik’s chin, making the other grin.
“I know, Shik. You’re honest to the point of being an idiot.”
“Take that last part back!”
“Never!”

The path wound down directly onto the sand dunes, and the most strenuous task lay ahead. Hakyeon went behind the cart and helped push at all uphill moments as Wonshik pulled, groans escaping him and being tossed towards the ocean by blasts of salty winds.
“We’re nearly there. Why did you stop pulling?”
“I am pulling, Kyeon. You’re. Not. Pushing. Enough.” Wonshik bit back the harsher tone as Hakyeon continued to whine.
Up ahead, he could see the boats more clearly. A group of men, cast in flickering shadows under the weak lamplights, stood in a circle at the dock. Deckhands were shuttling carts and boxes to load onto the larger ship. Wonshik’s dark eyes focused on one particular outline. His eyes were too blurry from sand and salt to be sure. Were they playing tricks? Was that…?
“YAH! SLOW DOWN!” Hakyeon began running awkwardly after the cart as Wonshik broke out into a run towards the pier.
His progress grew faster and louder as the wheels met with hard wooden planks. Behind him Hakyeon was cursing and panting, but Wonshik’s mind had mostly tuned out the sound with his focus being pinned straight ahead.
His heart, hammering from effort and excitement, felt like it wanted to burst out of his chest. As soon as the water from his eyes was blinked free and mingled with the tears of sweat on his cheeks, Wonshik had visual confirmation of his hopes.
“Finally. Slow. Down. Next. Ti-,” Hakyeon puffed, leaning against Wonshik’s shoulder once the other had reached a slow enough pace. “If.
I’d known. You had that. Kind of energy. The hell. I was helping you for?”
“Sorry.” Wonshik murmured, and continued with a slower, measured pace towards the pier, as if he now did not want to appear too eager to
arrive.
“Why run?”
Hakyeon squinted up ahead to the vague outlines of the men at the pier, confused. Only one was familiar to him at this distance – the tall Captain, who had appeared to notice their distant approach and was waving them over with a friendly hand.
Whoever was in the circle, they all turned at some stage to look over at the pair of them coming, but they turned back to their conversation shortly after. One of them, Hakyeon noticed, did keep looking over at their direction though.

It appeared that whatever Wonshik was looking for, he had found, because a wide smile began to curve over his face and if Hakyeon thought he had seen his best friend happy, there was nothing that he could compare this joyous expression to.
Wonshik’s whisper was almost swallowed up by the clashing waves, but Hakyeon heard it distinctly.
“He came.”

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a/n: there is chapter 1 for you! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it (: