He frowned, when nobody came to receive him, not even when he had sniffled thrice and burrowed into his coat for warmth, and was unsure if it would be disrespectful for nobility like him to simply enter without having been extended an invitation. He gave the door a soft shove, and rolled his eyes when it wouldn't give way. With a hard push, given using the end of his elbow and a grit of his teeth, he peered in when the blow that had taken almost all of his strength moved the door by an inch. By a blazing flame, two figures parried, twirling around in an oddly coordinated dance, metal gleaming against the warm light of the fire. A spear, held by a lean, young apprentice perhaps around his very own age, and nothing but bare fists defended his slightly shorter, yet visibly older opponent. They circled the concourse noiselessly, save for the occasional sound of the weapon hitting the marble tiling of the floor, having missed the foot of the intended target. Mingyu watched, transfixed by the display, the thought that he would someday become a brave, adept warrior like the two males locked in a complex battle filling his core with a soft glow of both excitement and warmth. His attention zeroed in on the younger boy, and his eyes traced the flexible, gentle curve of the path his body took, gliding across the skin under which the muscles worked furiously and in tandem. Beautiful, he decided, his build is a work of art.
Lost within his admiration and newly-bred motivation, Mingyu stumbled forward in order to get a better view as the two warriors shifted out of sight, still contained within their sparring, and the giant oak door let out a furious creak as the sudden addition of weight shifted it a good distance more. Both males looked up briefly, and the boy dropped his spear, bowing deeply to his older opponent deeply to end the battle, the ultimate sign of respect, and therefore, an automatic defeat. Mingyu looked between both of them, jaw still locked in place from the shock and subsequent embarrassment, but he did not speak, only walking closer when he was beckoned for, body tensing up from the unfamiliarity and complete alienation. It was as if he had intruded on something private and reverent. He certainly didn't miss the affectionate glance the experienced warrior threw over the other boy. And then he turned, and looked Mingyu in the eye.
He stood ramrod straight for a heartbeat, perhaps more, and felt that he ought to bow to the Master, though he had picked up the meaning implied in the words, and relaxed a little, bending over so the tip of his nose brushed over his knees. It wasn't a difficult task recognising the Grand Master, who had dedicated his life to training and excavating the next Dragon Warrior to take his place, by his wise words and composed poise.
"Ah, welcome," the Master's voice was deep, layered, calm, and it called out to Mingyu like a ice in a hot summer. "I presume that you are Kim Mingyu, and I shall be your shifu. This is your fellow disciple."
"Jeon Wonwoo," the latter continued the Master's sentence, eyes ablaze with determination, sweat lacing his torso as he twirled the spear between deft fingers. Then he grinned, eyes and nose crinkling adorably, a complete reverse of the fluid boy in combat. Thus, Kim Mingyu was sold.
4 years, 1460 days, and three million lotus kicks later.
They sat at a noodle stall in the cold, because Mingyu had quit earlier than Wonwoo in the training regime earlier on, and thus had to foot the tab for their meal - though that wasn't quite the reason why Mingyu was feeling so bothered.
The stall owner's daughter, a plain-looking, though delicate, young girl, peered at him from behind the stacked bowls placed neatly above the cart, averting her gaze shyly when he met her eyes. She had snuck an extra slice of fish into his serving, which made Wonwoo snort, and proceed to steal half of said piece. She circled around their table like an alligator fixated on its prey, constantly refilling their tea, and frowning when Mingyu made a deliberate effort to leave his cup alone. Wonwoo, however, extended no such courtesy, slyly taking advantage of the personalised service. By the time they had put aside their weapons and gotten ready to eat, she had already slipped Mingyu her jade ornament - a sign that she saw him as a potential husband-to-be. He was getting sick from all this attention, and hoped for once that Wonwoo would actually be a decent distraction. With her determination, it was practically impossible to tell her that he just wasn't interested.
"She's coming onto you," Wonwoo laughed, digging into his bowl of noodles, the sound of chopsticks against porcelain light and resonant. Mingyu grunted, giving him a grimace, nudging at the latter's arm and looking entirely unimpressed. And what did he say earlier about Wonwoo being an effective diversion - yeah? Scratch that out with the pointy tip of the Dragon Scroll.
"One day you'll have to dress in decent clothes and behave like a proper man in society," he continued, draining the bowl of its broth. "And you'll need to have a wife and children. What're you to do if you look at females the way you do now?" And all Mingyu offered in response was a light hit to the front of the latter's forehead, which made Wonwoo curl his lip up in a half-grimace, half-pout. "Hurry and finish your noodles, or you're paying for it."
"Ow, ow," Wonwoo crinkled his nose in gentle mirth, setting his chopsticks down, "That hurt, but as long as you're paying the tab, I don't really care," And then he was gone, crossbow slung over his shoulder in that carefree mannerism that Mingyu had come to adore, eliciting a snort from said boy as he left an ingot on the table and gestured for the stall owner to collect the money.
"Oi, wait for me," he called out, watching the familiar back of his best friend disappear within the bustling crowd at the marketplace, grinning down fonding at his hands with a gentle laugh. He shared a glance with the stall owner's daughter, who watched his eyes turn soft as he trailed after Wonwoo, and retreated back into the shadows of the cooking steam with a dejected sigh. He left her jade ornament hanging on the cart, where she would be able to retrieve it later on, and jogged after the male, who was biting into a skewer, thanks to the money he had saved due to Mingyu's treat.
"We need to go fetch water for the townspeople later, don't we?" Wonwoo, who was slightly shorter than Mingyu now, after his terrifying growth spurt, bumped his shoulder gently into the latter's collar, finishing the skewer off with surprising tenacity and facing him with a gentle grin.
"Yeah, I, yeah," He agreed, consciousness and active participation in the conversation momentarily stolen by the bright grin across the boy's features, and he shook his head to remind himself to get his wits together. "It's our turn today."
"Shame," Wonwoo quipped, quirking the corners of his lips downwards in the semblance of a pout, "I was thinking I could skive off a little today and take a nap."
And Mingyu chuckled in return, amused by his simple reason behind being disgruntled, pinching the latter's cheek gently and pulling his mouth up into a smile. "Hey, it can't be that bad, you're working alongside a handsome guy like me. Could totally ogle my arms as I lift the buckets."
The boy made a soft gagging noise in response, though his eyes were crinkled at the ends, turning into soft crescents. "Can I pay not to see you work in front of me? You throw your sweaty towels everywhere. They've landed on my face before, Mingyu."
"Nah. You're not getting rid of me this easily."
The chill was eminent as they ascended the valley to the lever at the peak, having collected water from the well earlier on, heaving the cedar pails in their arms, the dense weight of the wood making their bodies groan in protest. Wonwoo was getting progressively paler as the gale tore through the trees, howling like a wounded animal, and sneaking under their layered, but thin, overcoats. His pace slowed, the buckets almost slipping from his grasp and he let out an audible gasp of pain as his foot twisted with each step he took, and Mingyu trod alongside him, growing increasingly concerned, though he knew Wonwoo was obstinate as a mule and wouldn't stop until he absolutely could not move any longer. When the shorter boy doubled over, gesturing for Mingyu to take a break, he was by his side in an instant, forcing the latter down into a sitting position, and yanking the shoe on his right foot off.
The ankle was completely swollen, purple from the cold and blue from the abrasion. It had been clumsily wrapped in a white cloth, strapping crushed herbs to the abused skin. Mingyu gave Wonwoo a stern look, which the other boy flinched away from. "I know, I know." He began, but found himself unable to continue.
'When did you get this? How did I not know, and why haven't you been nursing it properly?" His voice raised a notch in volume, lost in worry and anger over the boy's foolishness.
"T- ah, Two days ago, in conditioning. I was practising my kicks, and I didn't strike the board accurately. And I hid it because I knew you'd be like this! It'll fade soon enough."
"Not if you keep putting weight on it, stupid! I'll take your pail for you, sit here and wait for me. Tell me if it hurts bad, I'll carry you down the slope."
"Do I look like I need help?" Wonwoo scowled, indignant at being fussed over so blatantly.
"Yes - at least pick the medicinal plant shifu told us was so abundant here. You've always had an eye for it - he told me it works wonders for a sprain," At the firm tone in Mingyu's voice, he had no choice but to comply, scooting over and bending close to the cluster of weeds, in search of the herb, avoiding the frown he knew was now etched across the taller male's face, trying to place his concentration into seraching for the plant, though his thoughts were now floating, a million miles away.
As Wonwoo turned around to uproot the herb and press it against his bruised ankle, Mingyu picked up the boy's bucket, and snuck it to the lever before he could even hear the latter protest, ruffling the boy's hair as he passed. Grumbling under his breath, Wonwoo almost missed the tender gaze Mingyu gave him from across the pulley, but fate has a funny way of tugging at red strings, doesn't it? He looked up, locked eyes with the taller male, and mirrored the gesture; born from habit, bred from true affection.
Although the lotus root may be cut, its fibered threads are still connected, and fallen leaves return to the ground.
In the distance, the wind in the pines soughed; in the ears of a stone horse, at a mountain shrine where no man worshipped.
PREVIEW FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER:
"Those who are skilled at combat do not become angered," Wonwoo's voice was light, almost a little taunting, "those who are skilled at winning do not become afraid. Thus the wise win before the fight, while the ignorant fight to win. What are you, Kim Mingyu?"
And he parried, he dodged, he attacked, but the weapon felt clumsy and heavy in between his fingers, and he found himself getting annoyed more quickly than he should.
Then the tip of Wonwoo's double-edged sword was at his throat, and time stopped.
a/n: I'm so sorry for this exceptionally late update - but please comment, subscribe and upvote! They keep me motivated to write, and I would love to churn out more chapters as I have an amazing attachment towards this au and meanie. Till next time!
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