xvii. The Words Between the Pages, The Explanations Hidden from View

“Minah is back at school now. Though I haven’t seen her much other than during homeroom and our classes together.” Your voice echoed across the white walls of the room, “I think Myungsoo said something to her again. That’s the only thing that would keep her away from the classroom at lunch break.”

Silence followed your statement but you pressed on, undeterred by the lack of a reply.

“I’m trying to spend more time with Ricky and Niel. Because, well,” you paused, searching for the right words to use so as to express yourself. You had never said it out loud before but now, now you think you could say it because you found it to be truer at this point in time than it had at any time before, “Because when I’m not with them, I miss them. Yet, when I’m with them, I miss the werewolves.” You sighed, resting your head into your propped up palm, your elbow pressing down into white sheets, “It’s a vicious cycle, balancing the two.”

Your eyes drifted across the white sheets, across the white walls, past the buzzing machines, and that’s when you caught sight of it. When you caught sight of the origin of the pleasant smell that floated through the small room.

There sat a vase of fresh peonies on the windowsill, beige colored curtains dulling the bright sun that poured through the window. How long had it been? How long since you had seen the twins? Sure, Daeryong still talked to you. Except, the calls had stopped. Now, it was text messages, if you were lucky. A simple “How are you doing today? ;)” or “TMSG.” What did TMSG mean? It was text lingo, that’s what he told you when he first sent it to you. It mean, “tell me something good.” It was a request for you to tell him one thing that happened to you the days he sent it, one good thing.

It wasn’t often that he sent it yet it’s meaning wasn’t lost on you. It meant that that day, nothing good happened to him. That nothing good happened for neither Daeryong nor Soryong.

So, you would tell him something good, even if it were something silly such as getting a free ice cream bar because Sunggyu would give you one from the Snack N’ Go freezer, telling you he’d pay for it out of his paycheck. Even if it was the act of discovering that shirt you thought had gone missing at the bottom of your closet, hiding in the corner. Even if it were seeing a cute squirrel scavenging for nuts during lunch at school. No matter how random, no matter how small, you would tell him and he’d respond with a, “I wish I could be there to see it.” And you wished the same thing.

You could still hear it, the faint calling of your nickname: Snow White or Baby or the most recent one, Jojo.

You desperately missed them as well.

“Actually, I have to balance more than just two. Or rather, I want to balance more than just two.” You stifled a laugh, your eyes falling back down to the person you had been talking to all this time. The person who lay in her hospital bed in peaceful silence, her brown hair falling in waves, framing her face on either side.

Tiffany.

Tiffany, who was incapable of answering you yet who you talked to all this time nevertheless, was lying there a still as she was every day since that day in December.

“Soryong misses you. Daeryong misses you.” You reached forward, gripping tightly onto her hand that lay motionless against the soft white sheets of her bed, “And I miss you too.”

And in that moment, as you looked down at her and wondered when she would wake up, you wondered something else. You wondered if she would be awake had she never come to Springfield, had she never even had a reason to do so. Would fate still have this doll-like state in store for her? Or, would she be somewhere out there with the twins, going about her daily life.

What was Tiffany’s daily life though before this? What would she have been doing?

And these questions voiced themselves as you wished more than ever that she would open her eyes and answer you, even if all she did was give you a cryptic hint as she had done so many times in the past, “What is the purpose of the Elites? Why did you come to Springfield in the first place?”

Maybe you had gotten too used to this. Too used to his probing eyes, his knowing stare. You had yet to tell a single person of it. Of the male named Cha Hakyeon who watched you while you studied in the quiet of the library. It wasn’t a secret. But, it was something you shouldn’t say so easily, of that you were sure. Though, the reasons you felt this way were still a mystery to you. As much of a mystery as the enigma of the male himself. The conundrum that sat in that same seat diagonally from you on this Saturday morning.

“You want to ask me something,” he suddenly spoke, the direct tone of his voice commanding from you all of your attention. You hadn’t realized it but he, as he had been looking at nothing but you, noticed the sideways glances you were throwing his way. It wasn’t hard to tell what you wanted, a fact that pleased him to the point in which his pleasure showed on his face in the form of a crooked smile, “Ask away.”

“Was I that obvious?” Your upper lip twitched as you lowered your pen, disappointed that even a stranger could see right through you. Though, perhaps not a stranger? At least, he didn’t feel like one. You pushed that thought from your mind as he answered.

“Yes.” A one word response you expected, one word that mimicked in it all of his confidence he held in his eyes, “But, there’s a difference between being able to read the cover and being able to read the words between the pages.”

Those words, those words were definitely not something you had heard before. Those words that seemed to say that you weren’t as easy to read as you thought. That perhaps you weren’t just a walking billboard. But, was he saying he had read the cover and thus inquired as to what was inside the pages or was he saying he had seen both the cover and what lay inside the pages? And why? Why despite all doubt, did it seem like he meant the latter? And why, why again, did you ask him the question on your mind without a single inhibition holding you back?

“Why do you always sit there?”

“Why do you always sit there?” He answered back, repeating your own words right back at you and watching them blow up in your face. Something that seemed to have become a hobby of his. 

“I,” you could have given him multiple reasons. An infinite number of them if you thought about it long enough. And, that was just it. There were many reasons. “I don’t see a reason not to.”

He sat back in the chair he was sitting in, his arms stretched out in front of him as another smile graced his face, “My answer is the same as yours.”

He saw no reason not to sit there? He saw no reason not to watch you every morning? He saw no reason even though there was one issue about all of this.

“You haven’t even asked me my name.”

He knew nothing about you. Yet, he was interested in you. But, then, when you thought about it, you didn’t know anything about him except his name and still, he felt closer than a stranger.

“I know.” His body leaned forward again, his long fingers intertwining together as his eyes focused in on you once more. And the question of should you or should you not arose. Should you or should you not tell him your name?

There was something about the prospect of it. Of what telling him your name would mean. Of what making him into something more than the title of “stranger” would be applicable to. But, those eyes of his, those eyes that flashed a golden sheen as he anticipated your next words, caused your mouth to close.

He wouldn’t hear those two words today.

For a little while longer, you wouldn’t tell him your name. You wouldn’t because a voice in the back of your head screamed at you. Screamed at you that now was not the time. Now was not the time to be ensnared in his trap.

And he, Cha Hakyeon, didn’t say another word. Knowing that you knew what he knew. That once your name left your lips, once you gave into him and willingly let those three syllables he already knew so well escape your throat, he’d have you.

He’d have caught you.

And once he did, he wasn’t going to let go.

“So, do you think you did well?”

“How does Michael Phelps swim in the desert?”

You turned to Ricky as the two of you walked down the hallway of the school together, your eyebrows furrowing downwards. Others, whilst you were completely and utterly confused by his response to your question, rushed by; all of them looking forward to the weekend now that midterms were finally over. You’d think everyone won the lottery with the amount of cheering you heard coming down every hallway in the form of either joyful squeals or even more joyful profanities.

You yourself felt relieved that it was finally over but of course, that meant that tomorrow was Saturday. And since tomorrow was Saturday, it was also the fated day of the dreaded training exercise in which your own “Red Team” was sure to be plagued with fractional splits, your own share of profanities, and of flurries of fists directed not at the opposing team but at your fellow teammates. You were definitely looking forward to that. Having to say that such a statement was sarcastic was obvious to the point of redundancy.

“He doesn’t.” You answered back, despite not exactly knowing what Ricky was getting at. At least, until you let the words pass from between your lips. That’s when you got it. That’s when your lips parted in realization before a smile adorned your face, a hint of a laugh in your voice, “I get it.”

Did Ricky think he did well? How does Michael Phelps swim in the desert? He doesn’t. That’s just it. Ricky doesn’t. Ricky doesn’t do well. His lack of shame whilst admitting such a thing was so like him you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m average and I’m proud.” Ricky clenched his fist and beat his chest twice, an action that only caused your laughter to increase in volume.

“And I’m proud too.” You leaned over, hooking your arm around his shoulders. He grinned at you, nodding his head. He was pleased with your action but, of course, a certain “Yura lover,” as Ricky would call him, was there to ruin his fun.

“You shouldn’t be proud of him,” Niel appeared from behind you and grabbed onto your arm before pulling it off of Ricky’s shoulders, placing it back by your side, and squishing between the two of you, “you’re only promoting the behavior.”

“Why do you think I did average?” Ricky frowned as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He threw Niel a suspicious look, hurling a bucket of ice-cold insinuations his way.

“What? You think it’s my fault? How is it my fault?” Niel questioned, his tone one of a victim. Which he was. Which he always was. He was always Ricky’s victim. The one to push all the blame onto.

“If it weren’t for you, we would’ve studied last weekend instead of playing Fire Emblem.”

Even if pushing the blame onto him made no sense at all.

Niel’s jaw dropped at the accusation, not a single word leaving his lips as he felt himself lost as to what he should even say. Ricky leaned over, looking past Niel towards you instead, “He’s not saying anything because it’s true.”

You knew it wasn’t true. Ricky knew it wasn’t true. But, that didn’t stop him from using it against Niel.

“No one told him to give into me.” Ricky shrugged his shoulders and you had to admit, that part of it was definitely true. If Niel remained stubborn and pushed Ricky to study, Fire Emblem wouldn’t have so easily ruled their weekend.

“I hate you.” Three words. Three words that Niel had finally found to say in response to Ricky’s absurdity. And it didn’t affect him in the least as he hooked his arm through Niel’s own and laid his head on his shoulder.

“I love you, too.” Ricky purred as he cuddled up beside a now stiff Niel whose explosion was imminent.

In just three, two, and one.

And there went the yanking of Niel’s arm from Ricky’s grasp before he stormed off, leaving the two of you behind. Ricky went skipping off behind him, not missing a beat in reacting to his best friend, “Where are you going? We have to pick out the flowers for the engagement party! Your mom is going to be disappointed if you skip out on it again! Niel!”

And, you followed. You followed, dragging your feet because you only wished this moment would last just a bit longer. Just a little bit longer so as to prolong exam week even if by a few more minutes. Because once you left the campus, the weekend would officially start, and the training exercise was waiting for you just outside the entrance of the school. 

It was Friday afternoon now and you had said goodbye to Niel and Ricky almost two hours ago. Now, now you were outside, in the backyard of Zico’s pack’s home. Outside where your team, the Red team, had come together to confer about the plan of attack tomorrow.

The Blue team was inside the living room, all of them gathered around in a cooperative, friendly circle. Your own team’s disorderly positions all around the backyard paled to it in comparison.

Sunggyu was taking the lead in the conversation inside the living room, his voice a low mumble as Dongwoo, Hoya, B-bomb, U-kwon, Jiyeon, Taeil, and Woohyun listened.

Jiyeon had taken a seat beside Dongwoo, her lips moving as it seemed as though she disagreed with a certain aspect of Sunggyu’s plan. Dongwoo was the one who spoke then, and judging from the look on his face, what he said backed up her statement.

Sunggyu answered back to them, seeming to concede under them, compromising with their suggestion. Taeil and Hoya said something then, the two having the same idea, as they usually did, their personalities matching each other like peanut butter and jelly.

Woohyun sat squished between U-kwon and B-bomb, his arms around their shoulders comfortably as the two nodded their heads at the plan that was forming for the Blue team as though they were listening to music.

And you, you looked on past the windowpane in envy as you heard faintly from behind you the sound of another argument ensuing. With a sigh, you leaned your back beside the window that looked into the living room of the large home. At the present time, Zico was talking both Jaehyo and Sungyeol down from their anger induced high. You were too far to know exactly what the quarrel was about this time but it looked like it had something to do with what Zico called the “buddy system.”

The “buddy system” which had paired up Kyung with Sungjong and Sungyeol with Jaehyo.

That’s what the previous throwing of profanities from Kyung to Sungjong was about. The fact that Zico had created a “buddy system” in which you had to look out for your respective “buddy” should any one of the Blue team come in guns blazing. Though, now that you thought about it, only Kyung, Jaehyo, and Zico had the guts to do that so what was this “buddy system” for anyway?

As you watched them, knowing full well that getting involved now wouldn’t end the indefinable problem between the two, you spotted your own “buddy.” And to your displeasure, it wasn’t P.O. It wasn’t Zico. It was Myungsoo. Myungsoo, whose own back was leaning against the trunk of a tree, his arms crossed stiffly against his chest. When he saw you, when he felt your eyes turn in his direction, the indicator being the soft hitch in your heartbeat, he looked up, locking eyes with you.

And it was as though the two of you were talking to each other using your eyes. You asked why on earth the two of you had to be “buddies” in this “buddy system.” He replied with a shrug of the shoulders and an it doesn’t bother me in the least.

Well, it bothered you. It bothered you a lot. You still didn’t know how to deal with him. Accepting everything he did or said still gave you nervous shudders down your spine to the point where you could only ignore what his dark eyes conveyed because thinking too deeply about it left you unable to think about anything else at all.

Which is why the sudden calling of your name from your right caused you to almost collapse from shock. Laughter followed the jerk of your shoulders and the flail of your arms, “Are you that surprised that I caught you spying on us?”

When you looked up, you found Woohyun’s large smile beaming as he leaned out of the window, having opened it after he caught sight of you watching them. Sunggyu told him to not mind it, to leave the other team to themselves, but he couldn’t help himself. And after receiving such a reaction for sneaking up on you, he didn’t regret it in the least.

You took a deep breath, calming yourself down, before replying, “I wasn’t spying.” He raised an eyebrow in response, in no way buying your words. “I was looking on in envy,” you corrected his accusation, seeing no reason to hide what you were doing.

Woohyun felt his smile twitch. Twitch because there was neither a human nor inhuman way for it to get larger despite the feeling of amusement that swelled in him. He leaned down, resting his arms on the windowsill as he edged closer to you, “You don’t have to be.”

You pursed your lips, not exactly up for the idea of switching sides, no matter how many arguments took place, “That would be unfair.”

And, like so many other times when he was with you, Woohyun had the urge to reach out to you. To touch you. To feel your skin that in comparison was like slightly chilled water. And he got shivers from it, not because it was cold, but because touching you, letting his hands cup your chin, his fingertips run across your lips, caused his heart to race in trepidation.

But, he had sworn off of it. He had sworn off of touching you because he vowed not to that day in the car when he confronted you about Myungsoo and Hoya marking you. Marks that were still so strongly present. He had made such a vow because he was determined to make you feel nervous when you were with him without him laying a single finger on you. And such a vow was hard not to break, especially when you pouted your lips at him in that way.

In that way that was the epitome of unfair.

“You’re unfair.” He whispered that same phrase you had heard so many times, his lips meeting as his smile remained, his eyes seeming to hold beneath them a spark. A spark of a confession. A confession he had held for a long time. A confession that you knew now.

But, thinking that Woohyun thought that way, about you, was pretentious. It was presumptuous. It was preposterous but still, still you felt light headed just thinking about the chances of it. The chances that were increasing as you noticed more and more that spark in his dark brown eyes whenever you would look at him. And you wondered briefly if you looked like that too. If you looked at him like that too. If you looked as dazzling as he did when the sparks danced across his irises, capturing you in his gaze.

“No,” you responded, your eyes not leaving his own, “it’s you that’s unfair.”

All of them.

All of them were unfair.

Woohyun’s eyes widened, the spark disappearing as it was replaced with surprise. There was one question that resounded in his mind. Was he caught? Was he caught by the dense you? Unfortunately, he did not have the chance to voice this question.

“Hyunjoo!” Sungjong yelled as he ran over to the two of you, having caught sight of the conversation going on that seemed a little more than the usual jokes and quips. “Stop fraternizing with the enemy.” He glared Woohyun’s way before gripping onto your arm and tugging you to him, pulling you away from the sneaky one in the Three Wolfketeers, the one whom Sungjong couldn’t trust with you alone as far as he could throw him. And that distance was not much at all.

You laughed in response, giving into him without a single moment’s hesitation, “You have to be careful Sungjong, he’s recruiting for the other side.” You glanced at Woohyun and saw the corner of his lips hitch, obviously entertained by your joke. Sungjong was far from it though as he glared daggers at Woohyun.

Sungjong dragged you back without another word, away from Woohyun who waved cheerily from the window.

And as you were back amongst the Red team, standing amongst a group in which four of the six liked you in the same way he did, he let out a longing sigh and squatted down, laying his head down on his arms which rested on the windowsill. And he watched the wind run itself through your hair, making him the one who was envious of not being on the opposite team.

It seemed as though now wasn’t the right time once more. But, he would wait. He would wait a while longer. He would wait and only hope that the next time you looked at him like that, he would the only one reflected in your eyes.

“I thought we were supposed to stick together.” Sungjong huffed, his hands on his hips as he took a good look at the people in front of him now: Jaehyo, Sungyeol, Kyung, Myungsoo, and you.

“You can’t exactly count on Zico to actually follow through with a plan.” Jaehyo replied, not at all fazed by the turn of events.

What turn of events?

Well, today was Saturday. The day of the team training exercise.

The rough winds that had plagued Springfield for over a week now had died down to a slight chilling breeze. The leaves above you rustled in this breeze, casting down onto you a flurry of shadows as the sun came into view and disappeared again above the evergreen parasols that were the trees. It was a peaceful morning. A peaceful morning as only a thin sheet of snow covered the ground. And this morning, this favorable, temperate morning, Zico went against all of his claims the day before.

His claims of teamwork.

“Nothing we can do about it now.” You spoke up, not surprised that he went rushing off as soon as the digital clock on his phone blinked from eight fifty-nine to nine o’clock. And P.O., his “buddy,” went running off after him, disappearing into the forest. Neither was anyone else on the team surprised as Sungyeol, Sungjong, and Myungsoo had all learned that when with Zico, a person had to adapt whenever plans changed. Which happened quite often. That didn’t make anyone less frustrated though.

Frustrations that were in no way for the greater good of the team.

“Since the whole “we remain strong as seven” thing has,” Kyung created a noise akin to that of water flowing down a drain, his index finger twirling in the air, “I say we throw out this whole “buddy system.””

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Sungjong replied, not sure that going against Zico’s original plan was a good idea, even if Zico himself had on everything except the “buddy system.” Which is why Sungjong was even more unsure about abandoning it so easily.

“What? You want to be my partner that much? I didn’t know Smile Boy liked me so much.” Kyung scoffed, his last sentence directed towards Jaehyo whose lips curved into a smirk in response.

“You know that’s not what he means.” Sungyeol interjected, trying to calm down the situation before it could get out of hand. Though, from your point of view, it already was. It was spiraling down that proverbial drain that Kyung had mimicked seconds before.

“Is it not?” Jaehyo’s eyebrow raised upwards, arrogantly questioning Sungyeol who, despite not having been insulted in any way, shape, or form, couldn’t help the rise of anger he felt then. Jaehyo noticed it. He noticed it and noted it, “What? Are you getting mad? What for?”

“This doesn’t look good.” You whispered to yourself and your “buddy,” Myungsoo, by your side.

“When did it ever?” He provided, not at all offering a way to help the situation, as he looked on. You turned your head to him, to the unaffected look on his face.

So then, this was great. Here you were, with two pairs of arguing werewolves and another who had no intention of acting as the mediator.

This training exercise was going to go great.

Again, the sarcasm should have been obvious.

A/N:

So, I don't have much to say in this author's note, this time I'm being completely and utterly serious! I swear! So, what did I do today? I drank ginger ale and cuddled up into my blanket since I've finished two of my midterms and needed a good sleep. Nothing much else to say on that note. Oh, I also ate spaghetti that was sorely lacking on the tomato sauce aspect of it because my mom has been eating spaghetti like her life depends on it for the past week and only left a small sliver left for me. Not fair. Just, not fair.

Okay, now onto this chapter! You requested Namgrease and I gave it (one of my commenters did anyway). Since it fit so well, I thought, why not? Did you enjoy the Namgrease? Was it greasy enough for you?

Can I just say I love writing N scenes? There's a Tiffany scene after so long too, so three cheers to that! 

I'm wondering how this "Buddy System" will work out. Are you?