Alchemy

Mingyu walked in circles in the kitchen, munching on crab chips. For the five hundredth time he pondered if it wouldn’t be better to simply confess his feelings. Just get it over with, collect the obvious rejection and move on with his life – after crying for a month, probably.

But then again, ever since he had realized that his feelings for his best friend were of a different nature than simple camaraderie, he had gone through every possible way to confess and nothing seemed appropriate.

Wonwoo deserved something better than a meek “Hey I think I’m kind of in love with you, please don’t hate me.”

There was one more option of course. Mingyu wasn’t a third year wizard for nothing.

For weeks he had entertained the idea. A love potion – there had to be such a thing, right?

He put his snack back in its shelf, resolute to see if there was a magical solution to his problem after all. Seungcheol would not approve, but he didn’t have to know.

The boy in a sand colored uniform stopped as he reached the door frame, turning around with a look of careful consideration on his masculine face. After a moment’s hesitation Mingyu retraced his steps, took the snack into his hand again and continued to eat on the way.

***********************************

Chan was parked on the sofa, shoulders hanging low. Seungcheol loomed over him like a hyena ready to pounce. The sitting boy stared at his shoes. With a weak voice he mumbled “You don’t know what it’s like to be the only first year in the whole dorm.”

“Well, I’m sorry the school’s rooming arrangements are not to your liking, but that does not excuse summoning a demon, Chan. A ****ing demon.”

“Hey!” Jisoo’s voice came from behind. “That’s a thousand Won for the swear jar, Cheollie!”

Seungcheol pointed behind him, his eyes not moving from Chan. The oldest student and dorm prefect looked positively threatening in his unique, all-black uniform.

“If Jisoo hadn’t been here with his goddamn rosaries, [That’s another thousand Won, yelled Jisoo] you could have been killed or… well, I guess that’s the worst option. Should not have been leading with that.”

After a deep sigh, the prefect’s voice grew softer. “Anyway, don’t meddle with powers beyond your level of control. And learn to draw a proper pentagram.”

The youngest student was visibly distraught at the scolding, trying to vanish into his baby blue sweater, still avoiding eye contact.

“And another thing-” Seungcheol continued.

Jisoo began to play his guitar in the background. It took about ten seconds for the dorm leader’s heartbeat to slow down. Ten more and his muscles relaxed as if he had entered a hot tub. Finally his anger was dissipated, replaced by serenity - and vague desire for chocolate.

“Jisoo, I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t interrupt my justified reproaches with your magic.”

“Sorry,” said the musical boy in a pastel pink uniform, but didn’t stop playing.

Seungcheol shook his head. The dorm’s very own musician seemed to sprout new rosaries every few days. Currently he was wearing five around the neck and three more on his arm.

All mundane humans had collected some odd behaviors, the leader realized long ago. Being around wizards made life’s strangeness seem a lot less weird. He wondered what his own quirks were. But more than that he asked himself why headmaster-nim thought he – a regular human guy – could keep a bunch of wizard boys in check.

The leader was ready to leave the two boys alone when the cleaning brigade returned from the ritual chamber.

Jun almost exploded into the room, moving with a speed just barely below superhuman. He came to stand beside Seungcheol with fewer steps than any normal person would have required to cross the distance.

The Chinese boy was neither mundane nor wizard. When the headmaster said “mundane and supernatural intermingle at this school” he really meant it. Jun was a vampire – a creature of pure darkness. Not that you would see it on his handsome, dorky exterior.

“All cleaned up, leader hyung. No more demon gore left.”

With amazing speed, the boy sat down on the sofa and grabbed a controller, handing the other to Chan.

Seungcheol was about to remind the maknae that he had no privileges until he swore to stop demon summoning, but was struck by lightheadedness as the school’s other supernatural creature entered, half walking, half hovering.

Jeonghan’s blonde hair flowed gracefully in a none-existent breeze as he perched himself on the sofa’s armrest with the poise of a monarch, a playful smile on his lips. With Jisoo’s background music adding to the atmosphere, the leader was once again awe-struck by the angel’s radiant aura.

“Hm, you know,” angel Jeonghan said to Jun, “it’s not fair to use your vampire reflexes against a human.”

Jun pulled on the angel’s fluffy pink sweater to get him down onto the sofa. “Fine, take a controller, team up with Chan. I can beat the two of you any day.”

Seungcheol had to leave the room. The angel’s presence was just too overwhelming. How the creature of light and the one of darkness could be friends was a top item on his long, long list of things he didn’t understand.

*******************************

Libraries in magic schools are supposed to be magnificent testaments to the capabilities of wizardkind. With endless corridors stretching into infinity, a ceiling that shows the night’s sky on alien worlds and shelves full of book as old as time that whisper to any passer-by.

Pledis’ school library was an inconveniently u-shaped room with lights that were a bit too bright and an unreliable AC. The books were perfectly mundane. Vampire romances (read a hundred times by Jun), comic books (not present, as a permanent loan to a certain maknae), at least ten bibles (a generous gift from a rosary loving boy) and all manner of school books (mostly untouched).

The one truly unusual item was the book on the altar in the back: the grimoire.

Mingyu knew that the ancient tome looked completely different depending on its observer. Where most students saw a gold or wooden volume with delicate carvings and shimmering gems forming intricate patterns, Mingyu saw a very dusty book with glitter and sparkly stickers, like a kindergarten girl’s first diary.

He had never told anyone about it, but he figured he saw the book’s most embarrassing version because he felt so awkward being a wizard. Not enough that his height made him stand out - no, he had to be a magical special snowflake, too. For once it would be nice not to have all eyes on him.

Next to the volume was what was left of Seungcheol’s attempt to create a table of content. The constantly altering grimoire made a comprehensive list impossible, leaving the leader’s list with endless corrections, additions and strikethroughs.

Mingyu opened the book and began to turn page after page. The first ten sheets could not be skimmed and had to be turned individually – it was simply not possible to move past them. They all contained warnings in increasing urgency of content and franticness of handwriting.

Finally, the tall boy reached the book proper and began to skim. He wondered if the book was in English to the others as well. He didn’t dare to ask. If he was the only one, they would know how much being a wizard was burdening him. The grimoire was supposed to reflect the reader’s psyche after all, and everybody knew his English wasn’t brilliant.

In the back of his head he heard the leader’s warning. “Every wizard needs to read the small print. No casting if there’s anything on the page you haven’t read yet. It’s probably a warning.”

Once again Mingyu mused that the mundane dorm prefect would be a better wizard than most of the magically inclined students.

The problem was that everything in the book was small print. And even a random sigil in the margins could be highly important. Matters were aggravated by the fact that the occult symbols everybody insisted to see in the book looked like scrawly emoticon faces to him.

Half an hour later the boy had seen every potion recipe twice, forwards and backwards, Google translate helping him unreliably through the text. He had to look at each of them individually and spend an embarrassing amount of time typing words into his phone.

At least he had seen them all now. Thought that wasn’t entirely true. The book grew more pages the longer it was used, but it wasn’t presenting him with anything useful.

As much as he dreaded the idea, Mingyu wanted answers, even if it meant… going to the source of all potion knowledge: A tiny, angry boy with pixy-pink hair.

*********************************

There was a direct way to the potion’s lab but Mingyu needed to inquire something else first.

So he happened across the corridor were Jisoo was strumming along with Jeonghan leaning on his shoulder humming gently. Mingyu felt the gradually rising desire for a Twix even before the guitar string sounds reached his ears.

The angel had his eyes closed and didn’t look up as Mingyu approached but smiled nonetheless.

“Hey,” Jisoo said, “where are you going?”

The younger boy stopped for a moment. “That depends. Have you seen Jihoon?”

“Nope. Woozles is still holed up as always.”

Mingyu shrugged. “Then I need to find someone first, who can tell me if it’s save to enter.”

Jisoo grinned and gave a quick thumbs up without letting go of his instrument’s neck. “Good luck. You must be desperate to go to such measures.”

The tall boy sighed, considering if he should confess his plan to the hyungs. Jisoo wasn’t actually a wizard but a simple human who happened to possess a magic guitar. Maybe it was that instrument’s effect, but Mingyu felt comfortable opening up a little.

“There’s something I really could use a potion for. Not for me… well, yes for me, but not to use on me. There’s someone who I… um, let’s say I’ve considered the mundane approach for long enough to know it won’t work.”

Jisoo looked up at him with eyes twinkling. “Ah, you have a torn and shattered heart. I can sense it.”

“I… guess so?”

The metal string’s sounds echoed for a moment after the boy stopped playing. “I know how to mend a broken heart,” he whispered.

“R-really? How? Please help me, hyung.”

“Chicken!”

“Wha-“

“Chicken would heal your heart.”

Uncertainty about any possible response delayed Mingyu’s reaction until an awkward silence befell him and the musician, who looked up at him expectantly. Before the awkward silence turned into an even more uncomfortable staring contest, the younger boy turned around and left without a word, continuing his path toward his original objective.