(4)

When the cold hit, the only thing I could do was watch my own breath formed a shadow of smoke and disappeared into thin air in mere seconds.

My red-colored clothes was well-contrasted against my pale skin. If one looked with a glance, he would have mistaken it for a blood stain because the shade that I chose for my dress resembled that of a dry blood stream. I tightened the fur-coat around my body to keep warm, and had I thought that Seoul was cold before – more so than most places I had ever visited and stayed at – then the mountain temple was frosty. There were no snow tonight, but it might as well have been snowing.

The celebration of lunar new year everyone had been waiting for passed away in a matter of hours. The day after tomorrow we would all return to reality and resumed our daily activities. There was nothing special, just a stagnant habit that lasted for two years since Jongin went away. I developed a liking towards solitude and when I was truly alone, I could think clearly.

“It’s almost too late to stay up for stargazing, don’t you think?”

Taemin slipped onto the seat beside me with a hot water pot to fill a half-empty cup of mine. The tea was cold from hours of waiting, and the end was yet to come. When he finished pouring, he pushed the cup to me and watched as I played with the delicate design on the edges of the glass, “Happy new year, Sena. Thought I’d say that a little bit later than the others.”

“That’s smart of you. Happy new year to you, too,” I could not look at him any longer. In the dead of night, he looked so much like Jongin, and yet in a way, he did not. His face was much softer, and his eyes were brightly lit with a hint of mischief and intelligence, unlike Jongin’s dead, cold eyes which held malice and cruel intention. “What are you doing so late at night? Can’t sleep?”

“Perhaps,” Taemin replied with a ghost of a smile. His eyes dropped down to my fingers as he carefully observed them. His word offered no consolation and neither did his smile. I only knew him for a week or two, and the silence between us was neither comfortable nor disturbing. He did not have the calming effect like Joonmyun or a cautious stance like Taeyong. Taemin was more nonchalant than all of them combined. “I could get you an extra blanket if you’d like, assuming that you would most likely stay up all night, thinking too deep and hard.”

“I would not!” I quickly retorted with flaming cheeks. Avoiding his eyes, I tugged my curl behind my ear and grabbed the cup for a boost of confidence. “I am not thinking deep and hard and even if I do, it’s not for you to laugh at.” 

“Am not laughing,” Taemin hid his chuckle and bit his lips to prevent the sound from coming out. He was awfully pretty, and I meant it in a way that he could have been a better looker as a girl – not that he was any less dazzling as a guy. He was way too skinny, assuming the amount of practice and training he did all day, but he was even slimmer than Luhan. “So what would you be doing if not thinking, Lady Sena? Praying, possibly?”

He was mocking me, that much I could tell. No one dared to, not anymore, not since Jongin. Joonmyun would tease me, occasionally, but people grew out of habit overtime. He was now an adult with a heavy burden and tons of responsibilities on his own, and I was just one of the many things he had to take care of. It was one thing I admired, and yet I always seemed to look back at the past when he and I were carefree teenagers riding the wind as if we were invincible. 

Like I said before, I missed my youth, minus the part where my Grandfather was involved. When one was young, they would not have to care so much about money, politics, love and trust. I used to wonder where my innocence had gone to, but then I realised that Grandfather played a part in robbing it away. Maybe I should start praying – as Taemin had suggested – for the sins of mine I could not wash off. The Elites were not guilty; I was. All bloods they had shed were in my hands.

“Can’t be thinking about Kim Jongin, can you?”

For the first time on the week, I finally took a good look of this man. He was no older than twenty three, and yet his mouth was as heartless as mine. Unlike others, he was not even afraid. He steadily caught my stare and waited for my reply eagerly. Taemin was a careless man, but he was not foolish, either. His courage might have came from his arrogance on his ability and his confidence on betting that I would not shack him off.

“What would you know?”

“Oh, quite a lot, just rumors. You know how it goes around, don’t you?” Taemin chuckled, but his tone suggested that it was serious. I knew rumors went around a lot since I was a leader and it was inevitable, but I never bothered listening to any. “People talk, Sena. They have mouth and ears, and eyes. Some of the rumors might even shock you, but let’s spare you off the agony of knowing too much, shall we?”

“Let’s not,” My lips tightened into a thin, humorless line. “I like knowing too much, unfortunately, and since you seem so eager wanting to tell me, why don’t you speak up? I like surprises. Who knows? Some of those rumors you say might entertain me.”

He was different, this man. He was very calculative. Scheming, one might say, and it was exactly this type that I hated most. I did not like the way he gambled with his words to extract information out of me. What he would tell me were rumors others said, but what he could possibly hear from me might be truth – bottled up feelings I kept for too long – if I were not careful enough.

“They said that you fed Kim Jongin as a sacrifice to the Dragon. That you’d do dark rituals on full moon night and sacrifice blood – that’s why so many young girls have been missing lately. Some said you kept Kim Jongin prisoner because you were lovers, and locked him away somewhere safe and visited him whenever you can. Others told me you were into satanic cult, and Jongin was one of the many victims. You know, stuff like that interest people because they sound so supernatural and impossibly possible.”

“ bloods,” I scoffed. “Those are nothing but lies. They do not know Kim Jongin.”

“Obviously, no one else does but you, Sena,” Taemin’s velvety voice was poisonous.

“And I’m glad they don’t. My protectors are not for public to feast on,” I clenched my fists. Are, I just used a present tense that might have given me away. As if noticing the stark differences, Taemin narrowed his eyes pleasantly and caught me off-guard, such that I momentarily forgot what I wanted to say. “Very good, Lee Taemin. You do live up to your reputation of being a mind-extraction expert.”

“If it pleases you, Sena, but I can see that it does not,” Taemin leaned back. The cold air and tea cup were long forgotten as our conversation got more intense. He was admittedly good in drawing out small clues from my words and the way I spoke. My hostility, albeit intentional, was a big give-away, and I scolded myself for being so careless. “The council announced Kim Jongin’s death two years ago, but I can’t believe it. There is no funeral for the protector, no body found, no memorial plate – these details are essential to give him a proper title and reward for his courage and the disappearance is bizarre.”

“Didn’t they tell you? We can’t find the body. It’s lost in the sea. And one does not send away a protector who dies before his Lady,” I stubbornly refuted. He shook his head as his smile grew bigger.

“Not possible. The sea was guarded because it was Genbu’s headquarter. Even if the blood attracted sharks, they could not have devoured him because they would recognize his stench. You are a lady with great sense of justice and righteousness – it is possible for you to break the rule for your protector. And knowing those rumors of your closeness with the Elites, it just doesn’t sound right when I heard that you refused to hold a funeral for him. Sena, I know you are not completely heartless. Can’t you just admit that he is not dead?”

“And what? Brand him a criminal?” Acid laced the words I spoke of. “What do you want me to say, Taemin? What would you want to hear? Yes, he is not dead. But he might as well just be. For most, Kim Jongin is better off dead than alive. Don’t you understand?”

I was huffing. My voice raised as I spoke, and by the end, I was nearly hysterical. Obviously no one would have heard me. My voice was swallowed by the walls and the valley. Tears were pooling at the corner of my eyes, and I could feel the sting that I hated most. I hated crying and looking weak. But at that moment, I wished Taemin was Jongin, just so I could hit him, punch him, kick him, shout at him. I wanted, and needed Jongin by my side. These two years had been hellish to me. If this was a nightmare then I wished to wake up to reality.

“He is, indeed, but that’s for most people. It does not apply to you. You are hurt, Sena. You are hurt because you are left confused. If he is truly alive, why don’t you capture him?” Taemin was oddly calm after my outburst. He was solemn and very solid with what he wanted to say. His face was cleared of any form of doubt and they were illuminated by the scarce source of light.

Easier said than done. “Capture him?” I snorted, “Why would I? Jongin wants his freedom, so I set him free. I do not wish, in this lifetime and the next ones, to see him again. He’s decided early on what kind of life he wants, and I’ve set on mine. We belong in two different worlds, and I shall not hinder him from achieving what he wants. He’s worth so much more than to live his entire life just protecting me.”

“If you loved him, if you truly love him… Why don’t you trust him? Shouldn’t love stem from trust and security?”

“Trust him after he betrayed me by selling me out to Grandfather?” I snorted. It was ridiculous how much I trusted him, then had my trust shattered so easily by the end of it. Our kisses, the feelings we shared together were obviously a delusion on my part and one-sided. I shook my head, “I have told you, Taemin. Jongin wants to be free, so I set him off on his track. I let him go. That’s for the best of us.”