Restauration

With the only light coming from small holes in the roof of the cave far above him, Wonwoo felt his way through the cavern in near complete darkness.

His hands gripped every protrusion in the rough rock, clutching tightly to the wall. His feet felt forward inch by inch, along the thin edge that ran along the wall.

How far was the other side? How deep was the fall? If he slipped would he be able to catch himself before vanishing into the abyss?  What waited below? Spikes? A piranha infested river? The skeletons of previous artifact hunters?

Wonwoo kept himself from turning back by mumbling all the reasons he could think of that would motivate him to advance. “MingyuMingyuMingyuMingyuMingyuMingyuMin-“

The edge merged with solid ground. At last he had crossed over.

His hands tapped along the wall faster now, hoping to feel his way to the exit. “Nope, can’t feel anything here. Or here. Got no feel.”

At long last his fingers met some sort of plastic surface. Pressing down on it, revealed it to be a light switch. The cavern became illuminated by neon lights. There was no abyss. The edge had been an ornamental baseboard. The floor was right there.

No one had to know.

Wonwoo entered the cave proper.

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

“One mind repair ritual, coming up. Improvisations notwithstanding.”

Seungcheol had hurried back from the library, having transcribed the relevant part from the grimoire. He had not hurried too much, though. His hair was still styled well and his clothes were not the least bit sweaty. The fact that Jeonghan was present in the room had everything to do with it.

The others got up from the ground were they had been observing Seungkwan’s odd behavior.

“Alright,” Jun said, shoving Boo into the room’s middle. “We need to place the four elements in the four corners around the sacrifice. Sufferer, I meant sufferer! Sorry, old demonic habits are hard to break.”

With a grin that could have been apologetic as well as threatening, the vampire took his position in the north.

Hansol walked rounds, pacing back and forth to keep the warbling boy in line.

Jeonghan stepped into the southern corner of the imagined square on the ritual room floor. He floated slightly above ground, his hair untied, flowing in a non-existent breeze.

Jisoo sat down strumming in the east while Chan, glad to be of use, took his assigned place in the west.

From his position directly below the lightning rods, Seungcheol read once gain over the instructions.

“And this can’t go catastrophically wrong?” he asked into the room, his face displaying no emotion whatsoever. Not that he wanted to doubt or even question Jeonghan, but magic had a tendency to make bad things worse. At least when used by Pledis’ students.

Jun just flashed a quick smile. Jisoo kept playing undisturbed, getting really into it. Chan didn’t even dare to look his elder in the eyes.

So it fell to Jeonghan to respond. “Catastrophically? Perhaps not. Terribly, maybe. But what are you going to do? Tell headmaster-nim?”

“I suppose that would be a good-“

“No, please hyung.” Chan looked up now, eyes wide. ”They’ll kick me out.”

Seungcheol’s poker-face faltered. “Sorry Channie, I have to inform him anyway. This is just too much to keep quiet about. I have to think about Boo, too.”

The maknae hung his head low. He didn’t want to think about what that would mean for him. He had something to make right. He would deal with everything else when it came to it.

“Ready?” asked the angel.

Universal nodding.

The room darkened. Jeonghan shimmered like the reflection of sunlight on water. Jun’s aura simmered with iridescent power. The air cooled down. Seungcheol felt his neck hairs stand up.

He read the text aloud. A mundane like him could – presumably – channel the energy through him and into the square without being effected.

“Light of the north, darkness of the south, music of the east, magic of the west. By your powers combined I am captain defibrillation!”

Lighting is a lot brighter when it’s close. And when it rushes past you inches from your face it is a bit much for your eyes to get used to.

Seungcheol fell backwards as the explosion hit the ground between his feet, a flurry of sparks and particles bursting from the charred floor.

“This ritual was a bad idea,” the leader mumbled through the smoke. “Your beginners level spells are of a really poor quality.”

“What? I am best quality!”

“Seungkwan?”

“Who else?”

Universal cheer.

The prefect raised his hands in triumph, before sinking back to the floor. Could this all be over now?

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

The “T” didn’t fit and he had one “L” left over.

Wonwoo was beginning to doubt his own intelligence. A dozen wood carved Tetromino pieces were waiting for him to be arranged into a rectangle in the world’s least engaging game of Tetris.

Most annoying was the square. It blocked off too much on the sides but if put in a corner it left him with too many lined up spaces.

He was losing his temper, wondering if anyone would complain of he kicked the door open rather than solve this “puzzle”.

Already he had gone through more ridiculous “trials” than he cared to count. A talking statue had let him pass after getting distracted by a paradox. Not a paradox of Wonwoo’s making, mind you. The statue had simply blabbered along and confounded itself in the process. Magical vines blocking the next door had given way to the sound of a lawnmower quickly downloaded to his phone. The ghost who’s tortured past he was supposed to figure out he had simply walked through. Rooming with Jun on occasion had desensitized him a little.

If putting shapes into slots was what finally broke his winning streak he would have to punch someone.

Feeling pretty emo – not that he was in any way an emo – he let his hand slide lazily over the board, wiping the pieces to the side.

The square landed on the four center fields incidentally.

That he hadn’t tried yet. Could he arrange the rest around this equilateral nuisance?

He could.

The door unlocked for him.

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

The sun had long set but in their little laboratory, the trio didn’t know or care.

Softly bubbled the potion, changing its color with excruciating slowness to the desired final hue.

Mingyu was fighting sleep, as he had been for about two hours now. There just wasn’t much more to do other than wait and keep the mixture from thickening too much with the occasional swing of the spoon.

The other boys had left the task to him, preparing the flask in which the potion was destined to reside.

As Mingyu looked at his own reflection on the shifting liquids surface, once more considering his planned deeds. If he managed to intensify Wonwoo’s feelings for him would that make the boy love him back eventually?

Jihoon had been very clear that it was no love potion but enabled Mingyu to take the steps toward building a stronger bond. The rest would still be up to him. Would this be another opportunity he squandered?

The potion master himself returned, holding a color table to the kettle’s content.

A lovely soft pink. That was how the concoction had turned out. Mingyu couldn’t help but notice that it was eerily similar to Jihoon’s hair color. What did he use to dye it? He wouldn’t-?

“It’s finished!” Jihoon exclaimed proudly. “Not bad for a clumsy giant. Fill it up yourself. I’m going to bed. Seokmin, you should shower first, you got a nasty dose of Eternal Itch Thorn on your back when you were under that shelf …Guess I should have mentioned that. Don’t worry, it’s slow to take effect.”

Smiling less brightly now, Seokmin hurried outside. “Good night, friends. See you tomorrow.”

Jihoon glanced over his running experiments one more time and began to open the straps of his overall on his way to the door.

“Don’t forget to turn off the headlights.”

“I won’t. Thank you, Jihoon. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, right.” The shorter boy yawned.

“Really, I owe you.”

“Just don’t make a mess.”

“I won’t. Good night, cutie pie.”

Jihoon trudged through the door. “I’m not cute,” he said cutely, with a cute sleepy voice, too tried to put defiance in his stance.

Mingyu was left alone. With his potion, his hopes, his fears and his tired reflection staring right back at him from the still bubbling cauldron.