When the sun rose the following morning, the sky was clear and the earth was cleansed. Himchan thought each golden flower shone brighter and he smiled as he brushed his fingers over the petals,

“All that rain did you good, hm?” he said softly, moving around the edge of the field as he brought feed to the two cows in the neighbouring pasture. His gaze landed on their gentle faces, noticing the water beads on their hair, before his gaze dropped to the mud that their cloven feet had sunk into. He chuckled softly and shook his head, “You're not as big fans of the rain, huh?” he asked with a smile.

“Danggeun actually really likes the rain.” a voice came from behind him. Himchan turned his head, watching as Jongup's cheerful grin greeted him,

“Danggeun?” Himchan questioned, making the boy's grin get even wider, if it were possible.

“Her name is Danggeun.” he said, not offering any explanation for the odd choice in title. The boy had a basket hooked over his arm as he carefully jumped over the wooden fence that separated the cows from the prized canola. He gently greeted each cow with a friendly embrace that neither animal seemed to mind, “Danggeun and Sangchu. Danggeun loves Carrots, and Sangchu loves Lettuce, so I named them after their favourite things.” he said with a smile. Himchan snorted and shook his head,

“They seem to both like hay. Why didn't you call them both that?” he asked, his eyebrow quirked. Jongup simply shook his head, planting a gentle kiss on Sangchu's nose,

“Because then they would both have the same name, silly Himchan-hyung.” he answered happily.

“And that would be odd.” the man stated, his voice filled with amusement. To him naming both cows the same thing would be no stranger than naming them after vegetables.

“Exactly!” Jongup said, climbing back up onto the fence and watching both animals eating the hay they had been given, “Thank you for feeding my pretty ladies. I was going to after I collected the eggs for Mama.” The boy rose a hand to block the sun from his eyes as he peered down at Himchan.

“You shouldn't stay outside too long, Jongup-ssi.” Himchan said. The boy's skin was fair, like that of anyone who hadn't lived a life of labour. Jongup must have spent much of his life receiving an education indoors, rather than working his body in the hot sun, “Your skin will get burned by the sun.”

“Maybe I'll just get brown like you, Himchan-hyung.” Jongup smiled. Himchan noticed the few freckles that dotted over his nose like marks on a map,

“I'm a farm boy, Jongup-ssi. I should be brown.” he said with a shake of his head, “You, however, are the pastor's son. Your skin should be fair like your mother's.”

“My brother's have fair skin, too. One of them arrived in the night through the rain.” Jongup said with a smile, “That is why I am getting eggs. I promise I won't get red, Himchan-hyung.” the boy assured, dropping onto his feet in the mud, turning to the animals, “I'll be back later to spend time with you, pretty ladies.” he said, before racing off towards the chicken coup. Himchan shook his head in amusement at the odd boy. Jongup was different to anyone Himchan had met before, and he was curious of the youngest son of the Moon Pastor.

It didn't take him long to settle into routine. Every morning he awoke with the sun and stuck himself into the labour the day held. He tended to the Canola, as well as feeding the cows and chickens. He fixed fences and rolled silage, making sure every aspect of the farm was cared for. He saw Jongup in the distance most days, the boy often spending time with the cattle, or disappearing into the forest with the family dog. He didn't seem to leave the property and venture into town, instead content to explore the limits of the land upon which he resided.

It was the afternoon of the first Saturday on the island that Himchan spent chopping wood. The summer days were long, hot and dry, and Himchan chopped the wood to pile by the house so it could dry for the inevitable winter. The rhythm of the axe hitting the block below each segment of cleaved pine was calming to Himchan. Sweat shone on his skin, two strong hands holding the steady handle of the axe, chop, chop, chop. Breathe in. Chop. Breathe out. Chop.

“Why are you chopping wood?” the voice startled him from his focused stupour. Himchan steadied the axe and turned his head, a hand lifting to wipe at his forehead, while his foot nudged the wood from where it balanced on the block to fall onto the pile beside it.

“Your Mama asked me to.” Himchan replied, setting the axe down,. Jongup's head tipped to the side and his expression was curious, “She wants the house to be prepared for next winter.”

“How do you chop wood, Himchan-hyung?” the boy asked, using the pet name he had seemingly decided on the day they had met. Himchan chuckled,

“You swing the axe, Jongup-ssi. The tool does the work, you are merely giving it the opportunity.” he said, lifting up the tool,

“Will you teach me?” Jongup asked, stepping closer, “If I am to grow into a strong man, I should know how to chop wood, right?” he asked with a smile, causing Himchan to chuckle, shaking his head. He looked over the boy before him, seeing how he pulled up his sleeves, as though he were preparing himself for hard work, hoiking up his pants and stepping forward. Himchan couldn't help the way his eyes dropped for the briefest of moments to glance at the pale flesh of the stomach that had been exposed to him. What he saw, though, caused him pause. An ugly bruise marred Jongup's fair side, about the size of a palm. Himchan's expression fell into a frown, stepping forward,

“Jongup-” he started, but was cut off before he could continue.

“Jongup-ah.” it was a voice he did not recognise and it caused him to turn his head and look back at the steps, seeing a man he hadn't laid eyes on before. He was tall, around the same height as Himchan himself, but he was clean cut. It was obvious he had come from the city, and as he stepped down onto the grass towards them, he moved with an air of authority, and Himchan thought also of arrogance.

“Hyung!” Jongup almost stuttered, his expression uncertain, “Himchan-hyung is teaching me to chop wood!” he announced. The man touched a hand to the small of his youngest brother's back,

“You don't need to know how to chop wood, Jongup-ah.” he said, his eyes gliding distastefully over Himchan's form, “You have a farm boy for that.” he stated, spitting out the position as though it were below him.

“It's still good to know.” Jongup said, “Himchan-hyung this is my eldest Hyung, Jonghwan. Jonghwan, this is Himchan-hyung.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Himchan stated, wiping his hand on his pants, before bowing as he extended it for the elder man to shake. Jonghwan looks at the hand offered to him, but does not take it,

“Yes, well. I'm glad our parents finally employed someone to take care of this place.” he stated, turning, “Come, Jongup-ah. Dinner will be ready soon. You'll need to wash up after being out here. You want to make a good impression on my fiancée, right?”

The younger boy simply nodded his head, seemingly not even realising how patronising his elder brother had been, or choosing to maintain an air of ignorance. “I-I will have to learn another time, Himchan-hyung.” He said. Jonghwan pursed his lips as he lead his younger brother to the strong structure of their home, but Jongup looked back over his shoulder, watching Himchan for a long moment, before following his brother inside.

*

May quickly faded into June, and the height of summer approached. They hadn't seen rain since the night Himchan arrived, and the grass was slowly browning. The cows lived off the silage and hay stored in the barn, while the golden canola thrived under the beating rays of the sun.

Summer afternoons were long, and once Himchan had completed his day's tasks, he would often rest in a small clearing in the centre of the field where a rock prevented growth. Tall canola surrounded him as he lay back on the dirty ground, two fingers holding the end of his cigarette as he gazed up at the ethereal blue of the sky. Some men spoke to their Gods, some prayed to their ancestors, but Himchan would never praise anything but the majesty of the earth.

He brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled slowly, drawing the smoke deep into his wanting lungs before he exhaled it out through his nostrils. Time seemed so different on the farm. Everything was long days, and warm nights, dry winds that brushed through the crops and stirred the grass. It was a kind of magic that Himchan had missed during the long and bitter winters that overcame the mainland and dusted every province in a white coating of powdered snow. Himchan much preferred the warmth of the sun tanning his skin as his calloused hands worked hard to make his keep.

He could hear and rustling in the crop and lifted his head, turning to watch the corner of his little haven where the pastor appeared, his lips pursed into a dissatisfied expression,

“Is it wise to smoke in the crop.” It was phrased as a question, but Himchan knew it was a statement. He his lips and stubbed the against the stone below him.

“I am very careful, Father.” he stated. Smoke slowly slid in tendrils from his nose, disappearing into the evening air.

“Cigarettes are not welcomed on my property. Jongup is young, I don't want him learning bad habits.” The man's face was worn from life and sun, causing him to age beyond his years. Himchan was sure that the responsibility of the town and the Church would weigh down on such a man over the years.

“I wouldn't dream of suggesting he pick up a cigarette, Father.” Himchan responded,

“He is impressionable, and from what I see he admires you.” Himchan felt his lip quirk at the statement. Partly from the words the Pastor spoke, but also from the tinge of contempt lingering on the man's tone. He was sure that nothing would bother this man like his child taking proclivity to a farm boy, “He speaks of you with affection. However you are here to work, do not allow him to grow attached, Himchan-ssi. His endearment to you will only result in disappointment later with your inevitable return to the mainland.” Himchan knew better than to argue, and simply dipped his head,

“As you wish, Father.” he spoke stiffly, feeling himself grow even more on guard. The pastor nodded and rubbed his hands together,

“I have yet to see you in Church. I expect you there for tomorrow's Mass.” he stated, a command rather than an invitation. The farm boy simply bowed his head respectfully and as he watched the man walk away, he couldn't help the way his mind wandered to the bruise that had lay upon Jongup's flesh in the weeks before, and where it had come from.

He once again awoke early, rising to wash swiftly and dress in the cleanest clothes he could manage. He walked slowly into town, passing strangers he did not recognise and dipping his head to anyone he made eye contact with. It seemed as though the whole town came together for Sunday mass, as he passed many people of all ages congregating towards the large stone building just across from the town centre. Families walked together, mothers carrying their children, friends ran to find one another while colleagues shook hands and bowed politely. Everyone took their seats in the pews.

When Himchan stepped into the Church, the first thing he saw was the Pastor and his family. Father Moon was greeting all who approached him, while the three handsome sons stood by his side. He had met the two elder brothers few times on the property, Jonghwan looking to him with distaste, while Jongho looked to him with contempt. The elder of the two was a lawyer from the mainland, the younger however had taken instead to a life of the Church, following in his father's footsteps. He lived in one of the larger cities on the island to study Theology before he could take his vows and don his robes.

Then there was Jongup, standing the shortest as the youngest of the three brothers. Himchan could not prevent the smile that crept to his lips as he watched the young man greeting each passerby with a warm grin of welcoming, bowing politely to each one, while his elder brother's kept a watchful eye on him. Himchan wondered what he was destined for, sure that the Pastor and his wife had a very clear plan as they had for their previous two.

The congregation sat, and Pastor Moon began speaking. Himchan remained at the back, watching each and every movement, hearing every word. Soon, each person opened their bibles, and began to sing. He was silent as he listened to the words of worship,

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

When father moon rose his hand to bless his congregation, Himchan slipped through the open door back into the warmth of the summer sun. It wasn't much later that the town were standing from their pews and carefully filing from the room, some stopping by to speak to their beloved pastor. Jongup waited at the front, bowing to those who looked to him, but mostly searching the large room.

“Where is Himchan-hyung?” the boy asked, knowing he had seen the man before the Sunday worship had began. Pastor Moon looked to his youngest child,

“He left, not long after the final hymn.” he said. The man's name left a bitter taste on his tongue, unable to shield the dislike from showing on his expression, “I do not want you spending time with him, Jongup. Do you understand me?”

Jongup's eyes turned to focus on the open door. Down the road, he spotted Himchan walking into the horizon, undoubtedly to return to the familiarity of the land he worked, “I understand your words, Papa.” the boy said, turning to look at the elder man. He did not voice anything further, because although he understood his father's words, he did not understand how anyone could despise someone so gentle.

----

Quick note: 당근/Danggeun is Carrot in Korean and 상추/Sangchu is Lettuce.

Title song is Heartstorm by Salt'n'Paper

Hope you liked it!