A/N: Based off a short comic called Heartsmith by Miyuli (please correct me if I'm wrong!!)

this is angst im warning y'all already

He can hear it with every careful step he takes; the sound of cracked glass clinking against each other. Every beat stinging a little; sending quick and sharp pains reverberating across his chest. Wonwoo doesn’t know how long he’s let his heart be abused to this extent. He had always brushed it off, knowing--hoping, it would heal like normal hearts.

But Wonwoo’s heart isn’t a normal heart.

When he was born, the doctors had noticed how soft and fragile it was. A rare complication that occurred to newborns. His parents were devastated, willing to do anything for their firstborn, but the doctors couldn’t do anything but pray for little Wonwoo’s heart to harden and strengthen up itself.

It never did.

His heart healed, but it took thrice as long than a normal one. No matter how guarded and introverted he was; always hiding behind books and bumming in the library, he’s always managed to get his heart broken.

When he was 5, he had a neighbor who had just moved in. They spent their afternoons together and took care of each other. By the time he had turned 8, he was in love with him. But he had to return back home.

His first heartbreak had almost split his heart in half.

A shattered heart does not take away one’s life; it eradicates the capability to feel--to love completely. But then again, what is life without love?

For the next 13 years, Wonwoo had no control over his emotions, no matter how hard he tried. His heart didn’t crack just from people around him. It ached and mourned over fictional characters in the books he’s buried his nose into. With a new book almost everyday, he hadn’t noticed how great of a damage his heart took until he woke up one day, feeling drained with chest pains.

He stands in front of the mirror, inching his shirt up his torso. He hated looking at his heart, seeing how pathetic and scratched up it was, but once the hem of his shirt reached his collarbones, his eyes widened in horror.

He’d never seen a heart in such bad condition, even in books or on television. Nestled on his chest was his heart, fractured nearly down the middle with uncountable hairline cracks that branched from it. It throbbed in slow beats with the palest pink glowing every time.

When he had gone to the doctor, he couldn’t do much about it except hold it together with gauze. It won’t last long, his doctor tells him, it should be replaced every day. Before Wonwoo could dejectedly walk out the clinic, his doctor stops him. He informs him about a family who uphold the diminishing practice of mending broken hearts--a family of heartsmiths. They live in Anyang and they could be of greater help to him than any modern doctors could.

With no time to lose, Wonwoo sets off on his own and travels to Anyang. The only difficult thing about the commute was holding his heart together with every bump in the road. When he arrives in the city, he stops at a public bathroom to replace the gauze.

“Who broke your heart so badly?” A stranger asks, catching a glimpse of Wonwoo’s bandaged heart before his shirt could hide it.

Now, Wonwoo can only ever think of his neighbor back then, but he can’t hold a grudge over someone who was unaware of what they had done.

“Sentimental.” He answers with a shrug, smoothing his shirt down.

“Off to see the heartsmith, perhaps? He’s a friend of mine and I can drop you off there; his house is on the way to mine..”

With much gratitude, he joins the stranger, named Minghao, in his small car. The ride wasn’t too long, but it was too quiet. Wonwoo had guessed Minghao wasn’t much of a talker like he was. When the kind stranger had dropped him off, he wishes him good luck before driving away.

The heartsmith’s home was a traditional wooden home, with a fence around the lot and a few shrubs growing about. A boy, around his age, steps outside of the quaint house with a paper bag in his arms. Their eyes meet and he smiles in surprise.

“Oh, hello there! What can I do for you?”

“I, uh,” Wonwoo’s hand instinctively went over his heart.

“I understand, come in. The gate is open, anyways.”

He nods at him, pushing it open with a loud creak. From behind the house, a series of barks erupt and within a few seconds, a dog comes running towards him. He steps back out the lot and closes the gate before it could reach him.

“Ya! Kamja-ah! He’s a guest, don’t scare him! Come here, I’ll feed you your lunch.” The boy yells, patting the paper bag that grabbed the attention of the pug. As he dumps the dog food into a dish by the door step, he looks over to Wonwoo. “Come back in now, he’s harmless, I swear.”

Hesitant, he pushes the gate open, but this time, the rusty squeak didn’t capture the dog’s attention. He slowly walks over to the boy, who patted his pet as it ate.

“Let’s go inside and see what I can do for you, okay?” He stands up and Wonwoo is surprised to see how much taller he was. “I’m Mingyu, the last heartsmith of Anyang.”

“I’m Wonwoo,” His eyes go around the house as he enters, seeing hearts hanging on the walls, some unscathed, some cracked or missing huge chunks. All in a dull grey color, which meant it was as good as dead. There were large tables where tools of varying sizes and shapes were laid out. “I’m from Changwon.”

“You’ve come a long way to mend that heart of yours.” Mingyu smiles at him, almost sadly. “May I see it?”

Wonwoo slips his hand under his shirt and winces as he takes his heart out, laying it out in front of Mingyu. He could see in the young heartsmith’s face the shock of seeing such a battered heart.

“You look like my age but your heart looks like it went through a lifetime of heartbreaks.”

Wonwoo explains his condition, his story, every detail he talk about that can relate to his heart. Mingyu, in return, listened attentively, with his hands folded in front of him. When Wonwoo was out of things to say, Mingyu frowns at him.

“I’ll do everything I can, but it will take a lot of time. You’ve come so far, there’s a spare room upstairs where you can rest and stay until I’ve fixed your heart.”

“That’s too much, I can find a hotel,”

“You can’t be separated too long from your heart. I won’t charge you for it.”

After a few more minutes of coaxing, Wonwoo relents and awkwardly exits the workroom to go upstairs.

He hadn’t realized his nap had morphed into deep slumber until the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread invades his senses. He sits up and stretches, pulling his shirt from the day before over his head before he trods downstairs and finds Mingyu seated at a small dining table.

“Good morning. I’ve made breakfast.”

“Good morning.” Wonwoo croaks back, his throat feeling parched.

“Coffee?” Mingyu offers, but Wonwoo shyly shakes his head.

“I-I don’t drink coffee, I prefer tea.” When he sees Mingyu move to stand up, he stops him, “It’s okay! I’ll make a cup for myself. Just tell me where is where.”

Once Wonwoo had joined him on the table with his cup of tea, Mingyu clears his throat.

“I spent all afternoon studying your heart and all night trying to figure out just what to do with it.” He starts, “It’s not broken beyond repair, but there are vital parts missing from your heart that makes it harder for it to stay intact. Even if I am able to fix it, experiencing emotions won’t be the same.”

“So,” Wonwoo looks down at his cup of tea, pressing his palms to the warm surface of the yellow-stained china “I won’t be able to love? I guess it was nice to have experienced it at least once in my life.”

The melancholic smile that graces Wonwoo’s face pierces through Mingyu’s chest.

“A-actually, there is one last option… One last thing I can do so your heart will be as good as new.” He frowns a bit, “Well, I don’t think it’ll cure your condition, but at least you’ll be careful when I’ve fixed your heart, right?”

“Yes, of course! What is it?”

Mingyu’s cheeks warms up, but not enough for it to color too noticeably. “I still have to check my father’s files.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He smiles at him, “It’s fine, I’m used to working alone… May I ask a question regarding your first heartbreak?”

“What is it?”

“This boy… did he ever know? How you felt?”

Wonwoo blinks at him, a little surprised with the sudden inquiry. “No, I never told him. It was too late to tell him, since he had to leave.” He takes a sip from his cup, “Sometimes, even though it hurts, I remember him and wonder where he is… what’s he like…”

“If only he had knew, you wouldn’t have to go through this ordeal.”

“Even if he knew, what could we have possibly done? We were young, too young. How can we even know if he truly was my first love?”

Mingyu looks outside the window, watching the clouds loom over the horizon. “They say your first love is the one that had broken you the most.” He nods his head to Wonwoo’s chest. “It’s such a shame… what you had to go through, if he knew what he had done, he won’t be able to forgive himself.”

“But he doesn’t know, so I won’t hold it against him.”

Mingyu looks into Wonwoo’s eyes, seeing the emotions gradually fade in them. He had to work fast, and he had to work now. He excuses himself, rising from his seat and placing his mug in the sink.

Wonwoo tells him he’ll take care of the chores and Mingyu relents before locking the door behind him as he enters his workroom.

He had not stepped out of the room for a whole 15 hours, loudly telling Wonwoo that he’s fine when the latter would knock and ask how he was doing. He would dismiss him when he had offered lunch, afternoon snacks, and even water.

When Mingyu finally emerges from his workroom, catching Wonwoo heating up the food he had originally made during lunch for them to eat for dinner, he sighs with a smile. “I’m done.”

Wonwoo whips his head towards him; seeing Mingyu drenched in sweat, breathing shallowly, and eyes a little distant. “You are?!”

“It just needs to set. It’ll be ready in the morning.”

“You looks so tired. Sit down! I’ll prepare you a plate.”

Mingyu smiles to himself when Wonwoo rushes to retrieve a plate from the cupboard. He can already see his hard work paying off.

They eat dinner in peace, with occasional small talk between gulps of water. Wonwoo started to talk more and more while Mingyu grew quiet, but attentive to what the older was saying.

“Are you okay? You must be so drained to work for so long without a break. How could I ever repay you?”

“You don’t,” Mingyu breathes, “have to. It’s satisfying enough to be able to fix a heart as broken as yours. I hope you’ll be able to love the right one.”

“I promise. Let me help you to your room.” Wonwoo rushes to his side, letting Mingyu’s arm wrap around his shoulders as he hoists himself up.

“You don’t have to!”

“You can barely hold yourself up!” He scolds, “Please, it’s the least I can do.”

He guides him upstairs and they enter the room at the end of the hall. There was not a lot in MIngyu’s room; it was clean and tidy. Wonwoo helps him lie down and he sits beside him, finding himself staring at a photo on the nightstand.

“My relatives. I stayed with them for about 3 years when I was 4. I had to go back here because my dad passed away and we had to continue the business, even if I’m the last one to learn heartsmithing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I wish I had stayed back with my relatives though. I left a special friend there.”

Wonwoo looks at him, “Special friend?”

“I liked him a lot, no one was nice to the new kid, but he was. If I had stayed, maybe…” Mingyu sighs, voice thick with drowsiness, “Maybe, I would have fallen in love with him… and maybe we could have been.”

Wonwoo’s lips part to speak, but he sees Mingyu relax into the bed. “Go to sleep. I’ll clean up downstairs.”

He gets a light snore in response, eliciting a soft chuckle from Wonwoo. “Good night.” He bids, before quiety exiting the room.

The following morning, Mingyu woke up early, still not in his best condition, but put on a face to show Wonwoo he was fine. When Wonwoo had come down from upstairs, Mingyu leads him into the workroom where he presents him his heart, all fixed up. It wasn’t as good as new; the empty space in between now had been filled up with an extra chunk that had been melded in, leaving a bumpy, but smooth surface.

“I can clean it up a bit more, polish it off so it’s nice and smooth.”

“No, it’s perfect.” Wonwoo cups his heart with his hands and blinks in surprise, “It feels… different.”

“I’ve fortified it, so it can handle a little heart break from your novels.” Mingyu teased.

Wonwoo blushes, “Fortified with what?”

“Ah,” Mingyu boops his nose with a finger, “That’s a heartsmith’s secret.”

With utmost care, Wonwoo places his heart back into his chest and immediately feels the warmth ebbing from it. Mingyu had looked away for some odd reason, not wanting to seem like a when Wonwoo had lifted his shirt up.

“Thank you, Mingyu, really. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you? You’ve done so much.”

“And it was all worth it, trust me.”

In the next hour, they say their goodbyes to each other while waiting for the shuttle to pass by. It arrives not a moment too soon. Before Wonwoo steps inside, he turns around and engulfs Mingyu into a hug, catching the latter off guard. “I’ll never forget you, Mingyu. Thank you so much.”

Mingyu’s arms go around Wonwoo’s waist, “Take care, Wonwoo.”

He watches him board the mini-bus and waits for it to disappear into the horizon before trudging back inside his home.

“Are you okay?” He looks behind him and sees Minghao get off his bike and lets himself in.

“No, not really. Do you mind feeding Kamja for me?”

Minghao follows Mingyu inside the house and heads straight to the kitchen while the heartsmith stopped over his workstation--clearly exhausted from that short walk outside. His hand ghosts over his chest, summoning all his willpower not to touch it and cause anymore damage.

“What did you do?” Minghao’s voice scares him, making him jump away.

“Don’t do that! Jesus Christ.” But Mingyu doesn’t answer his question, so Minghao puts the dog food down and marches over to him, pushing Mingyu’s shirt up before the latter can react.

Mingyu’s heart was bandaged up almost completely, parts of his heart peeked through and showed a few cracks. It’s glow looking almost muted.

“You broke your heart to fix his?” Minghao scolds, staring at him as if he had gone crazy.

The young heartsmith pushes him off and smooths his shirt down, looking away with guilt.

“It’s the least I can do,” He mumbles, “I was the one who broke it in the first place.”

i love love all of u mwah

@8scoupsofjisoo