He is beneath a slave, and he knows it. His boss, the House Father, makes sure to constantly remind him of it. He’s learned to accept it, though. To live with it – that he’s just a doll, a lifeless plaything.

After all, that is what his world is made of.

Ryeowook glances at his reflection, his red lips pressed into a thin line as he stares at his reflection. He doesn’t even recognize himself, not with the thick layer of white make-up that masks all his scars, his bruises, his imperfections.

He sometimes wonders how he ever got here, to this point in his life. But then he remembers; he remembers running away from the orphanage when he was a young boy, desperately searching for his parents, only to find his house burned to ashes, along with everything inside it. He remembers begging for food from every place he could, until he meet a slave trader, naively following him because of promises of food and shelter.

I was so stupid.

“Ryeowook, are you ready?” Leeteuk asks from the doorway. Ryeowook looks at him through the mirror, surprised to find him underdressed and without make-up.

“You’re not coming?” Ryeowook frowns. Tonight’s engagement was a party of some sort – Ryeowook didn’t really care what the celebration was about, since the outcome was always the same.

“I can’t,” Leeteuk said softly, striding over to fix Ryeowook’s hair. “The client doesn’t want me.”

Ryeowook’s frown deepens.

He’s never been to an event without Leeteuk. Ever.

“Don’t worry, Ryeowook-ah, Sungmin-ah will be there with you.” Leeteuk tries to soothe him, caressing his cheek softly, careful not to smudge his make-up.

Ryeowook takes slight comfort in knowing he’ll at least have his best friend with him.

“Relax, you’ll do fine. Just remember everything I taught you.” Leeteuk hugs his dongseang tightly, holding back tears because he knows. He knows what’s going to happen to him, because it’s already happened before. Still, he prays silently before slowly backing away, smoothing out the wrinkles on Ryeowook’s kimono.

“Ryeowook,” Sungmin says as he enters the room. “We have to go. They requested our presences.”

Ryeowook simply nods, not trusting his voice at the moment.

He doesn’t glance back as he leaves the room, afraid of running back into Leeteuk’s arms. He doesn’t understand why they both get so emotional - because it isn’t his first time – before he leaves.

They walk in a companionable silence, the sound of the wood creaking underneath their feet echoes in the empty hallway. The large house suddenly seems hallow, dark and empty; reflecting the taikomochis who have walked through them. Each step taken is filled with dread, but they continue regardless.

As they round the corner, the corridor becomes brighter, livelier and laughter replaces the creaky floorboards. They stop before the door, staring at the paper-and-reed sliding door, watching the shadows of drunken men horse playing and yelling. They glance at one another before they steel themselves, putting on fake smiles before entering the room.

The room smells strongly of sake and Ryeowook wrinkles his nose at the potent scent. He hides his mild disgust as he bows down, immediately changing his expression as he rises. He glances up to find a rather small group of military soldiers gathered around a long, low table staring back at them and he recognizes a few of them, having seen them around the brothel once in a while or are some of his clients.

They greet them with polite smiles before introducing themselves; though Ryeowook doesn’t know why they bother since the customers never bother to remember. He suppresses the urge to flinch under the lustful stares directed at them, but it’s hard to ignore the beady eyes that are raking over his body.

“We’ll be tonight’s entertainment; I hope we wouldn’t be too boring.” Sungmin apologizes sweetly, feigning a genuine smile so easily. Ryeowook doesn’t even know how Sungmin does it; how the man can act so easily, pretend so quickly, conceal so instantly. How he can act all cutesy despite knowing what these men will do to him later?

Sungmin pushes him lightly, snapping Ryeowook out of his thoughts. He looks at him, before realizing what they were supposed to be doing. They walk up to a raised platform in the center of the room, a shamisen already unsheathed from its silk wrappings. Sungmin sits on the floor, carefully tuning the instrument as Ryeowook stands next to him.

“We have prepared a song for you, in honor of your promotion General Jung Yunho. Please enjoy,” Ryeowook bows slightly; trying his best to hide his nervousness. He’s never sung without Sungmin before, but somebody needed to play the shamisen; the task usually taken by Leeteuk.

But he isn’t here.

And Ryeowook quickly pushes that thought away, along with his other thoughts. And he sings, he sings his heart out because that’s the only way to stop thinking.

He keeps his stare on the wall, because it’s the only safe place to gaze at. He risks a glance at the crowd, only to make eye contact with a pair of dark molten eyes staring back at him. But there is something different in this stare, Ryeowook realizes, belatedly averting his eyes when the gaze became too intense.

His gaze wasn’t lustful, rather it looked like he was…surprised or something…

The final pluck of the strings brings Ryeowook back into reality. He forces a shy smile as the soldiers clap and whistle rowdily; some out of intoxication, while others genuinely appreciative. He steps down, bowing his gratitude along with Sungmin. The soldiers gesture for them to sit down at their table, two or three men trying to out yell each other in order to win Sungmin’s attention.

“Ryeowook-sshi,” A familiar voice calls out. Ryeowook glances up, surprised to see Officer Hangeng seated at the table, patting an empty space beside him. Ryeowook didn’t even know he was here.

“Officer Hangeng-sshi,” Ryeowook smiles – a genuine one – as he sits down on his knees. “How are you this evening?”

“Much better after hearing you sing,” Hangeng says, grinning at the man for blushing. Ryeowook slaps lightly on the shoulder, only making the man further chuckle. Ryeowook pulls his fan tucked away in his waistband, snapping it open and shielding his face.

“If you don’t stop laughing at me, I won’t tell you about Heechul-hyung,” Ryeowook whispered in Hangeng’s ear. He grins victoriously when Hangeng stops laughing, turning to look at him carefully.

“How is he?” Hangeng asks hesitantly, worriedly.

Ryeowook’s expression softens upon seeing the genuine care and concern held in Hangeng’s eyes. Often times, Ryeowook finds himself jealous of Heechul because he has someone who cares for him, who has enough money to monopolize him; to shield him away from cruel clients and painful nights. Heechul has someone who loves him.

“He’s fever has gone down, which is a good sign. He’ll be better within a few days, if he keeps on resting.”

“Ah,” He nods, taking a sip of sake, “That’s good news.”

“Don’t w-”

Ryeowook suddenly stiffens as an unfamiliar arm snakes it’s around his waist. He feels rather than looks at the man beside him, smelling the scent of alcohol as the man’s breathe ghost over his jaw and neck. The man grips his wrist, slowly pulling his hand, holding the fan, down.

“Well, aren’t you beautiful,” The soldier whispers into his ear, causing a shiver to run down Ryeowook’s spine. Ryeowook opens his mouth, about to respond but the soldier is immediately pushed away, falling off the pillow he was seated on. The drunken man begins to cackle, but Ryeowook ignores him, looking at Hangeng in shock.

“Ignore the pig,” Hangeng says, glaring at his co-worker. “If he bothers you again, just tell me.”

“It’s pointless to glare, hyung. He’s too wasted.” Another Officer comments wryly; the unfamiliar richness in his voice causing Ryeowook to glance across the table. His gaze immediately locks with the mysterious, dark eyes he saw before. The Officer looks at him with intrigue, but not a provocative one, before looking back at Hangeng.

“True,” Hangeng agrees bitterly. Ryeowook tilts his head, trying to recall the Officer’s name. He’s never seen him here before.

And he can’t help but think the soldier is handsome, with dark locks tousled carelessly, his fringe ending just before his eyes, his nose long and angular, faint traces of a playful smirk on his full lips.

“Who-” Ryeowook bites his tongue, realizing how rude his sentence was about to sound. “I’m sorry if I offend you, but may I ask for your name? I don’t remember having met you before.”

“Oh, that’s right, you two haven’t met,” Hangeng realizes, noticing how Ryeowook unconsciously inched closer towards him. “Ryeowook-sshi, this is my friend, Officer Cho Kyuhyun. He’s never been to a Taikomochi house before, so this is his first time. Please go easy on him; our troupe doesn’t need any more soldiers pining after you.”

Ryeowook’s jaw drops in shock, smacking Hangeng’s arm multiple times for the comment, yet it’s not enough to fulfill his mortification. Hangeng laughs, wrapping his arm around the thin man’s shoulder. Kyuhyun laughs too, though more at Ryeowook’s reaction.

Ryeowook blinks, surprised by the sound of Officer Kyuhyun’s laughter; how smooth, enchanting and musical the sound is. He’s so surprised; he even forgets his previous embarrassment.

“Yes, I’m afraid I’m new to this kind of thing. So, please, spare me.” Kyuhyun adds to the teasing, finding the man highly amusing since the moment he sung. “I didn’t know Taikomochis were so violent, though.”

“Please, do not misunderstand, Officer Kyuhyun-sshi. Hangeng-sshi and I have known each other for a long time. We are more friends than clients, and that is why I treat him as such.”

“Interesting,” Kyuhyun smiles, only to glance down at his empty cup and frown. He reaches for the bottle of sake, but Ryeowook beats him to it. He glances at the Taikomochi, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

“Please, allow me,” Ryeowook flashes him a small smile, pouring the drink with practiced grace before setting it back on the table.

“Why is it interesting?” Hangeng asks; his tone somewhat cautious as he narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“Because I didn’t think you had any friends outside the military.” Kyuhyun says innocently, unable to hide his amused smirk. “How did you two meet?”

Hangeng begins the story with Ryeowook occasionally interjecting, to correct him and nothing more. Throughout the story, Ryeowook finds himself enraptured by the Officer before him, unable to look away; the way he laughs, the way he smiles, his dark, expressive eyes, how focused the man was on such a trivial story.

As Hangeng finishes the story, Kyuhyun glances at Ryeowook. The moment their gazes meet, Ryeowook averts eyes, blushing as he did so. After he calms down a bit, he chances a glance back, only to find Hangeng and Kyuhyun in another discussion. They complain about tomorrow’s practice, about their new general, and about places they would rather be, while Ryeowook listens attentively, trying to commit Kyuhyun’s answers to memory and commenting every now and then.

Ryeowook is curious, though he doesn’t know why Kyuhyun has stolen so much of his attention. He finds himself wondering about Kyuhyun’s past; what was he like? What did he like? Why has he never been in a Taikomochi house before? Why did he come now? How did he know Hangeng?

He wants to find out, to know more about this man.

But then he feels it – the dramatic shift of reality. Halfway through one of Hangeng’s travel stories, he feels a rough hand rubbing up and down his thigh. He discreetly looks to his left, unsurprised to find the intoxicated officer leering at him again. Ryeowook grabs his hand, politely shoving it off his lap. But the man stumbles, losing balance and leaning closer towards Ryeowook.

“Why don’t we…why don’t we leave, hmm?” The man whispers discreetly, low enough that only Ryeowook hears. “I saw a nice room…we can go to…quiet…real quiet.”

And then he remembers. He remembers his place this world, in his world. His pathetic little part he has to play. He shouldn’t be daydreaming or wondering while he still has a life debt to repay. He suddenly feels so foolish for trying to imagine Kyuhyun’s world; a world probably filled with nobility, respect, and freedom – something Ryeowook will never achieve in his life.

Ryeowook shallows thickly as whispers back a low, inaudible, “Let’s go then.”

He gets up carefully, causing Hangeng and Kyuhyun to turn their attention to him. Ryeowook bows, trying to fight off the wave of depression that washes through him.

“Thank you for the lovely evening, Officer Hangeng-sshi and Kyuhyun-sshi.”

“You’re leaving?” Kyuhyun frowns, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I’m sorry, but I’m needed elsewhere,” Ryeowook flashes them a timid smile, hoping it was enough to mask his sadness. “It was very nice meeting you, Kyuhyun-sshi.”

Ryeowook leaves before the stunned Kyuhyun has a chance to respond. He waits in the corridor for the intoxicated officer and the man appears not even two minutes after he leaves. With a heavy heart, Ryeowook walks, leading the way to his own demise – and he knows this.

Just like he knows that Kyuhyun and he are from two different worlds.

One he could never be a part of.

--

A/N: The story is complete, but I want to add my Author's note before I check the complete box. I'll post my Author's note later though.