An Unexpected Gift

Hoya was a startling sight as he barged in trough Sungjong’s front door. His dark hair was dripping water over his blazing eyes, and his purple uniform jacket was soaked through, making it appear almost black. “Where is he?!” Hoya demanded when he spotted Sungjong.

“What’s wrong?” Sungjong asked, frozen still. Hoya was not acting like himself. With a sudden flash of lightning behind him he looked almost infernal. His eyes were darting around Sungjong’s apartment, sharp as the blade of his sword that was half drawn out. When Hoya headed towards the ladders Sungjong moved in to grab his right hand, trying to force him to release the sword-handle. “Hey, let go” Sungjong implored; “Look at me”.

Hoya turned around abruptly at the same time with the loud clap of thunder. Startled, Sungjong let go of his hand with a yelp.

“Where is that leech that I hear has been living under your roof for four days, without me even knowing about it?” Hoya was clearly furious. Sungjong didn’t know if he felt more embarrassed about being caught or angry about being yelled at, so he settled with ‘defense is the best offence’. “What does it matter to you who I’m living with?” Sungjong crossed his arms.

‘Because I care about you’ would obviously have been the correct answer, but in his outraged state Hoya replied instead; “Because you don’t seem to have any common sense! And I heard you have been going out to play with the prince as well, skipping your work”.

“Do you mean to say that I’m not good enough to make friends with nobles?” Sungjong asked. “When did I say that?! That’s absurd”, Hoya exclaimed irritably. “Absurd? You were the one that crashed in and started to question my ability to judge people”, Sungjong shouted, starting to reach the peak of his fury. “I am your hyung! It’s my job to beat some sense in you” said Hoya.

“Get out!” Sungjong screamed. Hoya stared at Sungjong for a minute, opening and closing his mouth, before turning around and, with a loud bang, slamming the door shut behind him.

The pouring rain cooled down Hoya’s head, and very soon he felt like going back to apologize. What had happened just now? More than Sungjong’s reaction, he was startled by his own. Hoya never yelled at Sungjong. That just didn’t happen. Not even when Hoya was ten and Sungjong had ruined his favorite shirt. Not even when they were both teenagers and it felt like Sungjong was always picking a fight.

Instead of turning back and facing the (probably still angry as a bull) boy, Hoya found himself at a familiar doorstep.

* * *

“Whoa! Did you lose a fight with a grizzly bear?” Dongwoo said the moment he opened the door to the dejected man. “I think I messed up” Hoya merely answered. Dongwoo made way; “Come in, come in. Let me guess; this has something to do with princess Sungjong”. “Please don’t call him that” Hoya sighed. “That serious?” Dongwoo asked.

Dongwoo listened, as always, to Hoya’s worries. Ever since he came to work under king Sunggyu two and a half years ago, Dongwoo and Hoya had been good friends. Besides the king and his advisor, Hoya was the only one who knew about Dongwoo’s alter ego. He had even been present (and objected to) creating the plan to keep Dongwoo’s identity as king Sunggyu’s personal cardiologist a secret.

It had actually been Dongwoo’s idea, albeit a halfhearted joke, to make him the royal jester. Most of the court had thought that Sunggyu was too young to succeed his father at nineteen, and few had changed their minds even after three years of successful ruling. If the knowledge of Sunggyu’s heart condition was to leak out, it would surely lead to a coup d'etat. Because of this, the whole court knew Dongwoo as a jester instead of a doctor. And after growing up surrounded by a circus, Dongwoo was more than qualified for the job.

Looking back at things, it was as if someone had planned this from the very beginning. His parents were part of a traveling circus; Dongwoo’s father was the ringmaster and his mother a tiger-tamer. Before meeting Mr. Yang, however, she had been a nurse, and happily taught her eager son the basics of medicine. As he grew up, Dongwoo worked the nights at the Midnight Circus, and, with the money he received, studied to become a doctor. Maybe he was afraid for his family’s safety; a mother messing with big carnivores, a sword artist of a sister and a father who just couldn’t keep of the trapeze.

* * *

Sungjong and Sungyeol were sitting on the attic, where the sound of a light rainfall sounded like a faint echo of the downpour from a few minutes ago. Sungjong had wrapped an old but warm blanket around himself as he stared intently at the flame of the single candle in the room. The pot containing his mission was in between his crossed legs, it had become a habit to have it close whenever he was home. Sungyeol was napping with his back against the wall; his head slumped against his chest. With nothing but the soft and calming voice of rain around him Sungjong started to drift far away from his annoyance.

Sungyeol had come back an hour after Hoya had left. Determined to show that Hoya was indeed wrong, Sungjong had told about the fight to his new found roommate, who had been very compassionate. He had fished a packet of warm eggrolls from the bottom of his bag, and soon enough Sungjong had felt much better.

Sungjong let his thoughts wander of, and that is when it hit him; what did the plant want? His mother had said that plants grew the most beautiful flowers when they were loved, but that wasn’t really it, was it? Plants needed mold, rain and sunshine to live.

Sungjong raised the pot in front of his eyes and asked the withered plant out loud; “Is that what you want, hmm?” He stepped to the sole, small window in the room and opened it, letting in the humming of rain that couldn’t really be seen in the darkness. Sungjong reached his hand out of the window and let the raindrops drip on the plant. When the mold was a bit damp, Sungjong pulled back inside and sat next to the candle with a whole new determination. Brushing his fingers against the plant he closed his eyes and tried to remember how the sun felt on his skin, not even noticing that Sungyeol had woken up from his slumber and was now watching him with an amused smile.

Sungjong could feel the sun filling his every cell. Just as he felt like bursting, the boy directed all of that sun at the withered plant, telling it to live with all his might.

* * *

In the corner of the room Sungyeol’s eyebrows disappeared somewhere behind his bangs. He leaned forward, unable to believe his eyes. Either Sungjong was a terribly good swindler or there was something wrong with his own eyes. The obviously withered plant had begun to reach up, getting greener by the minute. A bud was forming on its tip and, as Sungyeol watched, it opened up and a flower as orange as the sunset and yellow as a lemon appeared. Sungjong’s face was confused for a moment, but soon a smile wider than any of the ones Sungyeol had yet seen before spread all the way to his eyes.

Sungyeol thought that he knew too much to actually believe in foolish things like magic. The only people, in his opinion, who needed something supernatural to explain the world, were the ones who simply didn’t know enough about it. Taking advantage of people who had that kind of superstitions was one of his favorite hobbies, and Sungjong had been no exception. But here he was, witnessing the collapsing of his belief system and all he could think was; Oh, a sunflower.

Sungyeol watched as Sungjong raised the flower in level with his eyes again and glanced at Sungyeol. His voice was filled with amazement as he asked more than stated; “I did this?” Sungyeol regained the control over his disturbed mind and pushed the matter of what really is real to the back of his mind to be returned to later, someplace quiet. “Congratulations” he said, going along with his scheme. “You have now passed the first test, meaning that I can officially take you as my student.” he continued with mock formality, nodding knowledgeably enough to convince Sungong.