Prompt : Krystal is the captain pirate of an air ship and her crew catches a wandering prince when they stopped at one of the docks.

 

🌼

 

 

His heart -

Feels funny inside his chest.

As if it is a balloon hanging on by a thread and nothing else. 

It is not painful in particular. Just vastly...empty.

He trudges through the smoked woods, catching sight of light on the other end peeking in between trees. Wisps cloud in front of him, dancing from the tips of charred bark into the gray sky. Some areas of the ground are singed as well, the blades of grass black and crumbled against the cold forest floor. Jongin rolls his shoulder back, an attempt to relieve the tightness in his joints. He wishes he could relieve the pounding of his head as well,  the way it constricts and expands as he limps across the scorched land.

Ten minutes ago, he had woken up to gray clouds and blackened branches dotting at the end of his vision. He had coughed once, then twice, feeling his chest rumble heavily with every hack. 

He doesn’t know how he had gotten there, nor anything that had happened before it, and that is what terrifies him the most. The last thing he recalls is standing in front of his mirror at the Cinehaven castle, shrugging on his formal coat for the ball that had been about to begin. The next thing he knew was black, nothingness, followed by this forest he vaguely recognized, but didn’t want to out of fear.

Now, as he reaches the end of the woods, he is greeted with open land - and it is not a welcome sight. 

The land before him is not much different from the scorched woodlands he had just crossed. It’s bleak and gray, ruins of old buildings laying across the barren land. He is only left with one question - what could have possibly happened while he was out?

The faint sound of bright voices capture his attention. When he peers around more, he sees a dock on his left side. More surprisingly - rested at this dock is a large airship, rusted cogs and gears turning slowly, with steam pumping from the top. Jongin knows airships well enough to know that it is simply recharging itself, and preparing for another flight. It connects to the dock by a ramp, where bystanders in leather clothing carry crates up and down from the land onto the ship. They speak jovially to each other, laughing and grinning, clapping their friends on the back as they stock their ship.

As hesitant as Jongin is to approach them, he figures this is the only chance he’ll get at some answers. 

He drags himself across the land wearily, his ankle still throbbing from whatever had injured it. He is some yards away still, and though the pain of his ankle wears him down, he is dedicated to reaching the bystanders before they might be able to take off once more.

“Who’s that?” Jongin hears a voice say, and this is it, he thinks. They may kill him, or they may actually do what he wishes and provide him with some answers to the many questions he has. 

At the man’s question, several of his friends stop what they’re doing to look over at Jongin limping over. 

“A nomad,” someone says.

“He’s limping,” says a woman.

“I wouldn’t be sure,” says another. “It’s easy to fake a limp for sympathy.”

“Don’t be so mean.”

“Whatever is about to happen won’t be on me, then.”

As Jongin approaches, he becomes less and less sure of what is to happen, eying the curious glares in their eyes as they drop their crates and gather around slowly, watching the new man limp over. 

“Who are you, and what do you want?” calls a voice.

“Help,” Jongin replies with a dry mouth. It comes out as a rasp, and he has to yell it a second time to get it out clearer. 

Someone among them asks what he said, and another repeats it to them kindly. “He said he wants help.”

“‘Course. That’s what they all want.”

“Shut up, will you?”

“Get the captain, then, we’ll see what to do -”

“She’s already here -”

And with that, the group of people become silent, parting so that a path is created in between them. This is where a woman emerges from the back. She is thin and small, yet she seems to hold a strong presence amongst these people. There’s something cold in her eyes, something curious in the way the corner of her lips turn down. Her chestnut hair is in a braid that rests across her shoulder, on the black leather vest she wears over a red blouse.

Slowly, she approaches Jongin with wary eyes, knee-high boots kicking through the dust as she nears. Her crew has gone silent now, watching the scene unfold before their eyes, curious and eager to know what happens next. 

“Who are you, stranger?” she asks, sauntering up with a hand on her holster. 

Jongin steps back a bit as she approaches, eying her gun warily. “I’m - I’m Prince Jongin. You may know my parents, the King and Queen of Cinehaven. I can guarantee they’re looking for me, so if you’d just -”

“Prince Jongin?” the woman questions, doubt lacing her tone. She crosses her arms now, perking an intimidating brow. “How can you be Prince Jongin if -” 

Then she stops abruptly, mid-sentence, shoulders slacking from its rigid tension and eyes widening slowly. There’s a glint in her eyes, one that Jongin can not understand nor see through. 

“Oh dear,” she says, though Jongin doesn’t miss the way the corner of her lip tilts upward in the slightest. “This is interesting.”

Jongin is confused as to what she means, confused by that sparkle in her eye. Clearly, she is pleased about something, but he is afraid to ask. 

“Prince Jongin,” she says again, softer now. A single chuckle, laced with what seems like disbelief, climbs from .  “Of course."

 “You know me,” Jongin says.

“Everyone knows you,” she responds. Then she’s approaching him again, that same indecipherable glint in her eyes. Jongin does not step away this time. He only watches curiously as the woman sticks her thin hand out in greeting.

“Jung Soojung,” she introduces, faint smile on her face. “Captain of the Ironhelm. I’m quite famous as well.”

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says, shaking her hand lightly. “I don’t know who you are.”

“I didn’t expect you to. Prim and proper princes such as yourself don’t get themselves caught up in the business of pirates, do they? I guarantee your parents would have known who I am, considering how much trouble I’ve caused for them.”

Jongin peers around the woman to inspect her crew, who sit waiting on crates and watching the scene develop. “You’re pirates?”

“That’s right, prince. Scared, yet?”

“No,” Jongin says confidently. “I’d like to make you an offer actually. I’m lost, see. I have no clue where I am, or where I came from. I woke up in the forest with a completely blank mind, unknowing of what happened in the past...week or so. Would you and your crew be so kind as to take me back to my kingdom, Cinehaven? We will have rewards. Pirates - you lot like gold, don’t you?” 

Soojung eyes him curiously for a while, her arms back to being crossed tightly against her chest as she considers. “You really don’t remember anything,” she says quietly. “Not a single thing?” 

“I...don’t.”

There’s an almost piteous look that crosses Soojung’s expression, and then she’s stepping closer with a sharp gaze. 

“We will take you onboard our ship if you so want, prince,” she says. “But you must realize something.”

She approaches until they are a mere foot apart, eyes narrowed. Her tone has lowered, dangerously dark as she mutters next - “We are in Cinehaven.” 

A deep dread fills Jongin’s gut, and he immediately feels sick. There had been a faint inkling stirring up in him that this would be the case, just a mere thought, but he had hoped he would be wrong.

A burnt forest, buildings in ruin and rubbish, a gray and morbid overcast over the land - this is what his kingdom has been reduced to. He doesn’t want to look back at it. Doesn’t want to accept it just yet. It makes sense, though. With the nine kingdoms all at each other’s throats, it was bound to happen. 

He just can’t remember any of it, and it is ripping him apart. It was one thing to lose his homeland, but to have lost his memories too? Then again, perhaps it is for the best. If he was able to recall scenes of his kingdom being torn apart, he doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle it. 

“It was a war, then,” Jongin concludes. “That...that did all this.”

Soojung hums softly, before nodding. “You are now living in the disaster known as post-war. There isn’t a Cinehaven at all anymore. There isn’t a home for you. All that’s left here is dirt and rubbish.”

“And...and my people?”

Soojung casts her eyes down now as her voice lowers. “Likely buried under your feet.” 

Jongin swallows, the lump in his throat growing the more he learns. His eyes fall shut and he looks away, head down, attempting to take it all in at once. A dead kingdom, dead people - how had he survived it all, and why can’t he remember a single thing? There's a part of him that wants to believe this is a cruel joke, some sick nightmare that he'd been plunged into.

Sooner than Jongin would like, the Ironhelm captain is speaking again, though her tone is softer now, laced with a sympathy that Jongin appreciates at the very least.

“I understand you would need time to come to terms with all this,” she says, “but my ship is set to leave soon.”

Jongin opens his eyes again, lifting his head to meet her gaze. He senses an invitation in her words, and he doesn’t quite know what to say.

“If you would still like to come with us, it is now or never,” she says, blunt now. “It isn’t safe down here for lads like you.” 

Jongin swallows again. His chest is beginning to tighten, feeling the burden of the news tear at his insides, and he isn’t sure what to do just yet. With an exhale, he turns to take another look at the wasteland before him. He recognizes the plaza where street performers sang and danced, the buildings where his people lived, content and as happy as people living in a declining kingdom can be. And he realizes how empty it all is, how much it pains his heart to even look at it.

She is right. It’s now or never.

 

 

 

Aboard the airship, Jongin is given a room. It’s small and compact, consisting of just a twin bed and a small dresser. The walls are made of copper, with bolts stuck through them like they’ve been fastened together. There is a circular window on the eastern side, giving him a view of the white clouds that float on by, as well as the gray earth below. It is not what he is used to, but he is thankful nonetheless. 

They haven’t taken off yet, but Jongin does not anticipate the moment they do. Airships had always made him dizzy, and he isn’t looking forward to this. Soojung had explained to him, however, of how the groundlands are much more dangerous, inhabited by loiterers who will steal your belongings and perhaps even kill you. All that’s left below is the ruins of once was - of both land, and living. 

He hasn’t quite come to terms with it yet. Just a minute ago, he’d been in his bedroom at the castle, readying himself for a ball, then -

There’d been a crash. He remembers now. A tumble, like an earthquake, only more similar to a large object shooting into the ground besides the castle. He had stumbled, and clutched onto the curtains of his bed for life as his room began to tilt.

And this...this is all he remembers.

He tries not to linger on it, and figures it will come to him naturally. There is no point getting worked up over lost memories he cannot recall. All he knows now is that Cinehaven is gone, and his parents and friends - well, who could possibly know.

There are several knocks on his door, and he shoots his head up. “Come in,” he calls.

“It's me,” Soojung says as she enters. “I wanted to see how you were doing. If you're adjusting well.”

Adjusting well. Jongin isn't sure if she means to the airship, or to the news he'd just received. Either way, he isn't adjusting nicely to either just yet.

“I’m fine,” he lies. “Thank you for taking me.”

“I couldn't just leave you down there,” she says, stepping further into the room. “It would mean your guaranteed death.”

“I am surprised you care,” Jongin says. “You are a pirate.”

Soojung exhales, and it sounds just slightly frustrated. “That does not mean I lack decency.”

Jongin is quiet, sitting hunched over on the edge of the cot. He fumbles with his fingers, not quite sure what to say.  Dealing with all of this in such a short period of time - it’s starting to take a toll on him. 

“I know it will be hard without the proper closure,” Soojung says, like she knows what he is thinking. “Look at this as a new beginning.”

She begins to make her leave then, sensing her presence is unwanted. 

“You are welcome here, Jongin,” Soojung says. “If you ever need help coping, or if you’d just like to talk to someone… I’ll be around.”

And with that, she offers the man a small, reassuring smile before leaving once more, quietly.

 

 

The door shuts quietly behind her. Yixing is already waiting at the side, hands held behind his back patiently.  Soojung gestures for him to walk with her along the corridor, brisk and businesslike. 

“Orders, ma'am?” he asks once they’re some distance away from the prince’s room.

“Keep an eye on him,” Soojung says. “Watch for any...unusual behavior.”

Yixing nods once. Then he turns to Soojung with bright eyes. “He really one of theirs, Captain?”

Soojung hesitates only briefly before her lips curl up into a boasting grin. She flashes mischievous eyes towards her second-in-command.

“Whose else would he be?”

 

 

The next morning, Jongin is disgruntled to wake up to a copper ceiling, confused, until the memories of the day before come rushing back. Dread follows it all, and he isn’t sure how to react. 

He hasn’t eaten at all since waking up in the charred forest, and it’s the only reason he now steps out of his room, peering out into the corridor. Before falling asleep last night, he’d changed into the clothes they lent him - a simple silk poet shirt, much too big for his frame. He wears cloth pants as well, and no shoes, padding through the corridor with barefeet. 

It isn’t until he wanders onto the deck outside that he finds someone. A man stands before the airship’s walls, examining the large map embedded on it. He appears to be in thought, hand on his chin and eyes clouded with contemplation. He adorns a vest, much like the one Soojung had been wearing yesterday, but it’s under a maroon leather jacket with large metal buttons. A scarf is tucked around his neck and into the vest, and it makes Jongin realize just how cold it is out on the deck. 

It takes several more seconds, but eventually he notices Jongin standing curiously a few yards away. 

“Good morning!” he greets amicably, eyes widening. “You’re the prince! I’m Yixing, Captain’s second-in-command.”

Yixing bows slightly, arms straight at his sides as he gives Jongin a small smile. “We hope you’re enjoying your stay onboard so far, prince.”

“I am,” Jongin assures, though it’s not the whole truth. “I really appreciate your captain bringing me along.”

“Well, of course,” Yixing says. “Pirates we may be, but we do have some sense of good form. Most of us, at least. Might want to avoid Joohyun and Chanyeol.”

“What was that, Yix?” calls another voice somewhere on deck, heavily accented. A short woman saunters up, eyes lined in coal and blonde hair tied up into a messy ponytail. She throws an arm around Yixing’s shoulders the best she can at her height, eying him with a teasing gaze. “Why would anyone want to avoid me and Chan?”

“Because you two embody the definition of dirty, rude pirates,” Yixing says, rolling his eyes and shrugging her arm off his shoulder.

“I’m offended, mate,” she says, lips forming a mocking pout. “I’m the most ladylike person in existence. Prim and proper, and uh, all that.” She straightens her vest and stands tall, eyes darting to Jongin when Yixing walks away in annoyance.

“New guy,” she says. “Prince, right?”

“Don’t scare him off, Joohyun.”

Jongin recognizes the voice of the newcomer - it’s Soojung, sauntering over with her arms folded across her chest as she shoots warning gazes to Joohyun.

“I won’t, bloody christ,” Joohyun says, brows shooting up in irritation. She turns back to Jongin then, eyes playful. “The way those two see me, honestly. You’d think I’m the most despicable person they’ve ever met.”

“Not far from it,” Soojung says.  “You’re lucky you’re a hell of a scavenger.”

“Ay, that I am,” Joohyun says, grinning with pride. “I must be off now, prince.” She bows exaggeratedly, pretending to curtsy. “Duties to attend to.”

“By duties, she means asking Yixing irrelevant questions about his romantic life,” Soojung clarifies.

“You know me too well, Cap,” Joohyun says with another grin before darting off in the same direction Yixing had gone.

“She’s,” Jongin pauses, looking for the right word. “Lively.”

“Sorry,” Soojung apologizes. “As proper apology, I’ll try to keep Chanyeol away from ever meeting you.” She smiles then, and Jongin finds comfort in it. “In the meantime, let’s get you some shoes and warmer clothes, then I can give you a tour of the place.”

 

 

Jongin is fairly sure the elevator is the most terrifying thing he’s ever experienced. 

It’s made of copper and is rusted, creaking alongside the metal walls as it shifts downward. Soojung has assured him that it is as safe as the whole airship itself, to which Jongin had asked And how safe is the airship then?

She had parted to reply, but then turned away unresponsive with a playful smile instead, leaving Jongin clueless and worried. 

The elevator stops with a shrieking shudder, and Soojung pulls the gates open to reveal yet another copper corridor. It’s louder down here - exhaust engines pumping through the walls, with steam blowing through openings above their heads. 

“Is it safe down here?”

“As safe as the whole airship itself,” Soojung says again with another playful grin, teasing the prince. Jongin sputters and pouts, to which the Captain only laughs. 

“I assure you everything is one hundred percent safe, prince,” Soojung says, just as they reach a door. She tugs it open with effort, thus bringing them to a grand room. There are fenced walkways lining the walls, as well as crossing over to the other side. In between these metallic walkways, there are large gears and cogs shifting and turning around each other. It reminds Jongin of the inside of one of his father’s ships - normal, water ships, not airships. 

“This is safe?”

“You’re so worried about safety,” Soojung says. “We were all born to die eventually anyway.” 

“That’s, um, morbid,” Jongin says as she leads him further into the large room. They have to yell over the noise and steam, their shoes clacking against the thin copper walkways.

“The sad truth, more like,” Soojung says. “Anyway! This is where the magic happens. The very reason we are even up in the air at all.”

“So what is down there anyway?” Jongin shouts over the noise. “Down on land, I mean. On Earth.”

“Nothing much,” Soojung shouts back. “Just rubbish...and people. We call them nomads. Travelers who are only trying to survive.”

“Survivors from the war, then.”

“Exactly.”

Jongin hums, in thought. “They’re dangerous, you say?”

“Some of them,” Soojung says.  “We trade with them often. Some are nice. Some are...not so nice.  Of course, you can’t blame them.” Soojung turns to face Jongin, pursing her lips in contemplation. “They’re living in hell, after all.”

 

 

 

It isn’t hard to get along with the crew, Jongin realizes. They are talkative and lively, but not to the point where it makes Jongin uncomfortable. They are accommodating as well, and understanding towards Jongin’s needs and the fact that he is new to practically everything, still dealing with the news of his kingdom. Dinners on the airship are never short of entertaining, especially when Jongin meets Chanyeol, and he’s every bit of a pirate as the others had warned, but not necessarily in a bad way. He is loud and boisterous, and when paired with Joohyun, the crew dinners are never quiet. 

Amongst all the noise and lively, drunken singing, Jongin would smile fondly, then somehow meet eyes with Soojung across the room. She’s smiling as well, laughing at the mischiefs of her crew, then sharing a small smile with Jongin, and a warm, tender gaze in the middle of all the chaos. 

She’s quite beautiful, Jongin realizes after some time. He’d known from the moment they met that she was, but the more he gets to know her, the more he sees how beautiful she is as a person as well. She is adventurous and daring, always walking along the edges of the airship just for the hell of it, despite the fact that it is dangerous. She is caring towards her crew, tending to them herself when they injure themselves. Jongin sees that they love their captain well, and for good reason. She treats them so kindly, like equals, despite there still being a line between follower and leader.

Days turn into weeks, and Jongin finds himself becoming accustomed to their ways. He wakes up to a copper ceiling and a cold room, but is then greeted by friendly faces and warm soup for breakfast. Sometimes, he would walk around the dock of the airship alone, in thought, and they would leave him alone out of respect. After all, he still has to deal with the fact that his kingdom, his home, has been destroyed and there’s likely no way he will ever return to that life. 

In fact, sometimes it eats at him more than anything. Sometimes, he lays in his covers at nights wondering how he had gotten here, on a thin cot of a large airship, surrounded by people he had to learn to trust within a few minutes because of circumstances. Sometimes, it drives him nuts, wondering what in the world happened while he had been unconscious in that forest. 

One night, some weeks after his first day on the airship, he finds himself wandering the corridors of the airship in mild panic, confused and conflicted and feeling completely unsettled. For some reason, he finds himself at the Captain’s door at midnight, knocking twice, and regretting it immediately after.

She’s awake, though, and the door swings open after several seconds. 

“Hi,” he says dumbly, and suddenly, he’s a fool. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m here. I - my feet brought me here, I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, you probably wanted to sleep -”

“Prince,” Soojung interrupts. A beat, and another, until Jongin gains the confidence to look at her finally only to see an amused smile on her face. She continues - “Do you want to come in?”

His chest feels tight, so he can’t exactly speak. He nods - again, dumbly, and steps inside when she makes room for him to enter. 

“You look shaken,” Soojung says as she closes the door. Jongin stands awkwardly in the middle of her room, taking in the nice and neat bedsheets, the organized bookshelves, and the notes tacked onto her wooden walls. 

“Sorry, I’m just…”

“I understand,” Soojung says, soft. “I know this might be hard for you. Dealing with all of this. It must feel like a nightmare.” She moves to sit on her mattress, nightgown trailing after her. Without all the leather and lace, she looks rather soft in the pink nightgown, especially with her hair down and carefree, tumbling over her shoulders. 

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a nightmare,” Jongin says quietly, fumbling with his fingers. “Just...like waking up from a dream I can’t recall.”

“I can’t imagine how frustrated you are,” Soojung says. Silence falls between them then, where Soojung is gazing at Jongin so compassionately, and it makes warmth buzz underneath his skin. She’s moving then, standing to approach Jongin. By his surprise, she takes him by the wrist and leads him to the bed, where she makes him sit on the edge. He does so, but stiffly. 

“When I am feeling out of control,” Soojung starts slowly, “I turn to clockwork.”

She turns away to dig in the drawer of her nightstand, rummaging through it to look for something. She pulls it out, and it is - not by Jongin’s shock - a pocketwatch. The golden chain dangles from her thin fingers, the clock hanging precariously in the air. 

“Clockwork?” Jongin says, just as she takes the clock and pops it open to reveal the inner mechanics. 

“Yes. It’s calming,” she says, running a finger lightly over the gears. “Just...taking it apart and putting it back together. Like a puzzle, over and over again. It takes my mind off things.”

Jongin manages a small smile then, the tightness in his chest relieving. “I love clockwork,” he confesses. “I - I dabbled with it all the time at the Cinehaven castle. My mother would be upset with me every time I took apart the large clock in the dining hall, but I always put it back together eventually. The way everything just -”

“Clicks together?”

“Yes! And fits. It’s oddly fulfilling, that moment when one piece connects so perfectly to another.”

Soojung is smiling widely now, her eyes turning into crinkles. “And the best thing? That absolutely beautiful ticking noise when you’ve finished the whole thing.”

“Exactly!” Jongin exclaims with a grin. They share a moment of mirth and laughter, bonding over such a small thing, but feeling the warm glow in their hearts nonetheless. It’s the ridiculousness of such a hobby, the absolute nerdom of it that has them chuckling. 

“You’re the only person I can talk to about this,” she says, a fond smile touching her face when the laughter dies down a bit.

Jongin smiles in return. “I’m glad.”

“Everyone else around here is interested in mechanics and technology. They think clockwork is dull and unexciting. I understand why they would think that, but...there’s a certain magic to this.”

“Magic?” 

“Not the right word,” Soojung says after some thought. “Clockwork is very advanced these days, though. Might as well be magic.”

Jongin’s brows furrow, and he’s eager to know more. “How so?”

Soojung’s expression changes quickly, and she’s suddenly pursing her lips, exhaling quietly between them afterwards. It’s clearly a topic she feels something towards, though Jongin can’t pinpoint what exactly it is she feels.

“There are rumors,” she starts, “of a corporation made to try and repopulate the Earth, by taking the souls of our dead and placing them in machines so that they may live on, even after the war. These machines function on the same technology as this. As clockwork.  With gears and cogs.”

“Is that possible? That sounds like fantasy.”

“If they are able to extract souls from the dead, I don’t imagine it would be hard to make it work. Clockwork has come a long way.”

“But...this is magic you’re talking about.”

“Not magic,” Soojung clarifies, “but I suppose it’s similar. Just a very advanced technology.”

“This corporation...do they exist?”

“Their name is whispered here and there amongst pirates and the nomads. Arcavale, it’s called. Rumors say they are preparing a method of revival for all of our dead. This method will be the clockwork machines, see.  They’ve received a good amount of support, but Arcavale has enemies, as well. People who don’t agree. Even - even some within their own circle had broken off to create their own corporation dedicated to finding a method of repopulation, because Arcavale’s ideas were seen as otherworldly and ridiculous. I can only imagine now how silly those who had broken off may feel…”

“Why do you say that? Has Arcavale succeeded then? In making these clockwork bodies for the souls of the dead?”  

Soojung pauses, fingers fumbling with the spare cog on the table. “I think they have,” she says quietly. Then she’s taking her gaze to Jongin instead, a piercing depth in her eyes. Jongin finds it’s very hard to read her sometimes, or to know what she is thinking. Her words are befuddling as well, and he can’t quite make sense of them, or understand what she is talking about, even though he feels like he should.

“This group that has broken off from Arcavale to create their own corporation… Are they still around?” Jongin asks.

“Of course,” Soojung says. “The search for repopulation is still ongoing. I have a feeling, however, that the solution has been discovered already - and it is the clockwork bodies.” 

Jongin wrinkles his nose. He wants to ask how she might know this, but then she’s dismissing the topic quickly, saying it’s time for bed.

“It’s late,” she says as further reason, though Jongin does hear the wobble in her voice, that slight lethargy. “We should be in bed.”

It’s only after they’ve said their goodnights and after the door shuts behind him that Jongin realizes how detached she had been during the latter half of their conversation. He brushes it off, remembering how she’d smiled at him and how excited she’d gotten over the mere talk of clockwork. It had been almost endearing, and dare he say - adorable.

 

 

After that, they seem to be meeting each other more often on the airship. Soojung invites him to watch the skies with her sometimes, as she says it’s calming to watch the sky darken even if there is no visible sun to see setting. They find themselves on the dock from time to time, arms crossed on the metallic railing, eyes glazed over the scenery. Jongin thinks it’s beautiful, and lets himself breathe in the open air every time,  feeling it in his bones and letting it overtake him. 

Besides being caring, beautiful, and funny, Jongin finds that Soojung is thoughtful as well, in the way that shows how much she clearly knows about the world. She is captain for a reason; she’s been dealt quite a bit throughout her lifetime, having been an orphan since she was five and fighting her way to where she is now. Jongin admires her. He had admired her from the very second they met for her dashing bravery and caring yet spiteful attitude, but as he stands every night with her out on the front deck of the airship, his heart expands with admiration and perhaps even something else b beneath the surface. 

It’s very easy to open up to her, Jongin finds. She pulls this side of him so effortlessly, and because she had been open and willing with him, Jongin thinks he can be with her as well.

“As a prince, I always felt like...like I wasn’t doing enough,” he says one evening as they stand with the whistling wind. They’re the only two on deck, the rest still finishing up dinner. 

“There my parents were, dealing with angry noblemen from one of the other eight kingdoms, or an angry villager from our own. They couldn’t satisfy anyone, and they always had something to deal with. Meanwhile, I was just - just lounging about, honestly, watching them panic and run around looking for solutions. I tried to help them. But they brushed it off. Saying I was just a prince, just their son, and that I shouldn’t concern myself with such politics until I bore the crown myself. I was twenty at the time. They made me feel like a child. But I - I gave up so easily. What if I hadn’t given up? Would Cinehaven still be standing? Would my parents still be alive?”

“Don’t do that, Jongin,” Soojung says quietly. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I don’t remember anything,” Jongin says. “For all I know, it could be because I didn’t do anything when I had the chance.”

“Hey,” Soojung starts. “You listen, alright? None of this is your fault. You aren’t the reason the nine kingdoms all have their heads up their arses. You aren’t the reason they declared war, nor the reason they decided to bomb each other. You may have felt like you had a responsibility to uphold because of your position, but ultimately, it was your parents that made you feel like you didn’t. And anyway, Jongin.” She pauses, turning to look at him with a glint in her eyes. “It’s not too late to change the world. “

She smiles at him then, softly, eyes filled with warmth. Jongin smiles in return, and because he is an idiot who tends to never be able to control the actions of his heart, he moves to place his hand lightly on top of her own that rests on the railing.

She is stiff at first, surprised, but eventually, she relaxes, and even smiles a bit, but only barely, as if she doesn’t want to give Jongin the satisfaction of seeing her so pleased. 

Jongin is satisfied anyway, and smiles in return, warmth bubbling up in his chest.

 

 

 

As pleasant as that night had been (a stepping stone, Jongin had mentally called it), things seem to be off between them for the next several days. Jongin thinks he may have done something wrong then, and it ends up not being a stepping stone at all. 

She talks to him still, but she keeps her distance. She’s not at the front of the dock every night anymore, saying she’s got research to finish up, or someone’s invited her for a cup of tea. Jongin isn’t an idiot; he knows the change when he sees it. He isn’t sure if it was because he had held her hand, because he remembers very clearly the small, pleased smile on Soojung’s face when he had done so, but he can’t help but think it has something to do with it.

He tries not to linger on it. 

Anyway, something else is on his mind. It’s funny, Jongin thinks. All his life he’d heard of how pirates were dirty, rotten people, bent on making life complicated for civilians. But these people - there’s a refined manner to them, like they hold themselves to a higher standard. Even Joohyun and Chanyeol are quite intelligent beneath the loud ruckus they like to cause. Jongin thinks it’s odd. Had they not introduced themselves as pirates, Jongin would not have thought they were. 

“What is the endgame here?” Jongin asks one evening. They stand at the front of the airship again. The sky around them is as fogged as it usually is, clouded by gray and white. 

“What do you mean?”

“What is the point?” Jongin clarifies. “What is the purpose of all of this?”

“Does there need to be one?”

“I would like for there to be one, yes,” Jongin says. “I would like to believe this isn’t the end of our days, living on an airship and surviving on the last bits of food we can scavenge. That isn’t a very fulfilling lifestyle.”

Soojung muses over this, pursing her lips. She looks away, and there is that unreadable expression on her face again, the one Jongin couldn’t figure out for the life of him. She’s quiet a little while longer, and Jongin is just about sure she doesn’t intend to reply, but then she does, hushed.

“There is a purpose to all of this,” Soojung says. “I can’t tell you just yet, but there is.”

Jongin takes the information in, nodding. He’d figured. This can’t be the end. There is a purpose behind Yixing in his workroom all day, a reason behind the stress that Soojung attempts to hide from Jongin. 

“You lot,” Jongin muses, “are more than just pirates, aren’t you?”

The captain sighs, raising her head to drag her gaze across the darkening clouds. 

“I don’t want to lie to you, Jongin,” Soojung says. “At least not any more than I already have.”

“So don’t, then,” Jongin whispers softly, turning to direct his gaze on her. He thinks she’s stunning like this, hair blown by the wind, eyes thoughtful and warm.  

It feels right, then. This moment feels right - where Jongin sees her not as a captain of an uptight airship, but just as a woman trying to get by with all she has. He’s admired her from day one, but over time, that admiration had developed into something stronger, something that makes his heart shake a little every time he sees her. 

He cups her cheek, brushing the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. She startles at first, jumping slightly, but eventually she leans in to the touch, the warmth of her skin scorching against Jongin’s palm. The look in her eyes is mesmerizing, enchanting, enough to send him in a daze if he looks long enough. When he pulls her in, she meets him halfway. In a magical moment, their lips brush in the most innocent, yet tantalizing way. 

She is soft and warm, mouth moving feebly against his own. Jongin steps closer to deepen the kiss, but then he feels something wet across her cheeks. 

He pulls away in wonder, surprised to see her crying softly with tears streaming down her face. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately, cupping both hands around her cheeks. It’s then that she begins to weep a little more, tears building up in her eyes. She’s pulling away the next moment, lifting Jongin’s hands away from her face, mouth scrunched into a frown. 

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I can’t - can’t do this to you -”

“Can’t do what to me?” Jongin asks urgently. He becomes increasingly worried when she steps further away, wrapping her arms around herself protectively before darting away from the balcony. Jongin reaches a hand out, but she’s running off before he can stop her, pulling open a door and slamming it behind her. Tears had been running down her face all the meanwhile, and Jongin is left alone in the middle of the clouds, dazed and lost, before he gathers enough sense to make his legs move and run after her.

“Soojung!” he calls, but there is no response. He hadn’t seen which corridor she darted off to, so he makes his way to her bedroom as a first place to check.

Upon the surprise of the door being slammed open, Soojung jumps in alarm, and a pile of sheets and papers are flying into the air, ones that she had presumably been holding prior to his arrival. Her eyes are struck wide, and she quickly tries to gather the sheets again, crushing them against her chest like her life depended on it.

“I’m sorry - I’m so sorry,  Jongin, I’m sorry, I’m sorry -” Soojung says, alarmed. There are still tears in her eyes, and ones that run down her face still. Jongin has never seen the woman like this - so emotionally vulnerable, so uncollected and panicked, anything but the composed and confident woman she normally is.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, pushing the flying papers aside to crouch besides her slumped figure. Eventually, she gives up on recollecting the sheets that had flown everywhere. She clutches all she has to her chest, hanging her head and crying softly. 

“Soojung,” Jongin whispers, “will you tell me what’s wrong?” 

The captain lets out a weak sob before lifting her head, reddened eyes meeting Jongin’s worried gaze. 

“You’ll hate me,” she says, voice breaking. Another moment of hesitation, but when Jongin places a comforting hand on her shoulder, she seems to give in. She pulls the crumpled sheets of paper away from her chest, and reveals them to Jongin, who eyes them with curiosity. 

They are blueprints.

Of himself, it seems.

As Jongin looks closer, he sees that the papers are of different outlines of his body - drawings of his shoulder, or his knee, and his face as well. There are notes dotted off to the sides, written in messy handwriting that Jongin definitely knows as Soojung’s. 

Shell appears realistic, no sign of mechanics underneath. 

Seems to function normally.

Like a real human being.

“Wh-what is this?” Jongin sputters

The tears are never ending. “I’m sorry, Jongin,” she sobs again.

He eyes another drawing, one with - with clockwork, cogs and gears drawn to fit beneath the outline of his body. Suddenly, words are coming back to him - a conversation that had confused him at first, but now terrifies him. 

Rumors say they are preparing a method of revival for all of our dead. This method will be the clockwork machines

“Who am I?” Jongin spits. 

At the sound of Soojung’s cry, Jongin gets all the answer he needs, and suddenly he’s standing angrily, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re Jongin,” Soojung says, in a rush. “You’re Prince Kim Jongin, you’ve always been. It doesn’t matter if the body that you wear was made in Arcavale, you are still you. It doesn’t - doesn’t matter that you’re made of clockwork and copper, Jongin. You’re still you. Please believe this.”

“You knew, though. All this time.”

There are tears in her eyes, and she casts her gaze away, towards the ground. “I did. I’m sorry.”

Jongin shakes his head, exhaling in disbelief.  He is suddenly aware again of how funny his heart feels in his chest - like it is the only thing there that is actually alive. “This is - so, I died? In the war, I died? And they put my soul into...this?” He gestures to his body, that looks human, feels human, and that he’d thought had been human all along. And suddenly, he becomes aware of why there’s a gap in his memory. He’d actually been dead. There was nothing to remember. 

Soojung folds her lips before she nods slowly, another tear running down her face. “You - you must have escaped the facility somehow. And then we - we found you, and…”

Ah.

Jongin realizes now.

He pieces it all, each bit coming together. Like clockwork.

“You’re the other group. This whole ship is, isn’t it? It’s your base. You’re the group that opposed the Arcavale, the group that didn’t think their plans were realistic. You’re looking for a way to repopulate the earth, just like them. Then you came across me, and you knew immediately that I was one of theirs. So you took me in. Examined me. Used me as a cheat sheet to see what they were up to and if they had succeeded before you did.  I can only imagine the pure glee you felt when you found me - your rival’s runaway machine. An experiment. And a prince, no less - even more important.” 

Soojung can’t seem to meet his gaze. She remains kneeled on the floor, back hunched, papers clutched to her chest as she cries softly. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Jongin asks, his voice wobbling. 

Soojung weeps quietly before another single tear drops down her pale cheek. She looks away again, clenching her eyes shut. “Yes,” she whispers, pained. “But it’s different now, Jongin.”

“What’s changed?”

“I have,” she urges, voice stronger now. She looks up, eyes red, meeting his strong gaze. “I love you.” 

At this, Jongin feels the anger well up in him even further. Because damn it - he had too. “What do you expect? For me to forget everything and kiss you and for us to live happily forever on this godforsaken ship?”

“No,” Soojung says softly. “I don’t expect that. Nor do I want that for you. You deserve more. I took advantage of you, tried to use you for my benefit, I’m - I’m vile. I am nothing but a pirate, who steals and has always stolen in order to get her way.”

Jongin turns away, clenching his eyes shut and throwing his hands in his hair - his mechanical, fake hands, with cogs and gears twisting and turning underneath the artificial skin. 

“You have to listen to me, Jongin,” Soojung urges. Suddenly, she’s raising herself to stand, voice raised in slight panic.  “You are still you. Do not think of yourself as lesser, do not think of yourself as inhuman. Your heart...the most pure heart I’ve ever known...is still entirely human. Your feelings are human. You are human. It’s - it’s not important anymore, but they did succeed before I did. They succeeded with you. Despite the fact that cogs and gears turn in you, you are more human than I will ever be.”

Jongin swallows, heart throbbing at the pain in her eyes, and the incredibly stupid part of him wants to take her in his arms and never let her go. The other part of him, the part that is struggling to take this all in at once, decides that isn’t the best idea.

“I need - I need time -” Jongin says, the words tumbling out as he swivels on his heel, darting out the open door before she can even protest. He hears her cry for him, but he ignores it, stomping down the hall, mind a flurried mess of confusion, anger, and betrayal. 

 

 

 

 

And Jongin takes all the time he needs.

Soojung gives him this time, as well as the rest of her crew.  Yixing only comes by to give him his meals, which Jongin accepts tentatively, though he finds that he doesn’t exactly have an appetite these days. He wonders how he’s even hungry at all, knowing that he is just a machine. An advanced, modern clock.

Nights are quiet and empty in his room, and his thoughts are much too loud. Sometimes, he lets Soojung’s words come back to him. 

“You are still you. Do not think of yourself as lesser, do not think of yourself as inhuman.”

She’s right, in a sense. After all, he didn’t notice anything off, aside from the feeling of emptiness in his chest. He feels human. Acts human.

But in the end, he isn’t human any longer, and this has him pulling his hair out in frustration. 

And the fact that she’d known.

And used him for her personal gain.

She had said she loved him.

Did she mean it? Did things really change for her?

As much as Jongin would like to hate her, he can’t help but think about the way she had wept that night, clutching those papers to her chest like she wished they hadn’t existed. 

It’s with this in mind, and with some good time passing, that he visits that special spot at the front dock again. He isn’t surprised to see Soojung there, eyes downcast, arms folded and crossed on the railing. It had been hard before to read her expressions, and that is because she made it hard to, purposefully shielding whatever emotion she felt. Now, however, Jongin can see every vulnerability, every insecurity, every fear and doubt. 

“Good evening,” he says nonchalantly, approaching her with care.

She shoots her head up, and her eyes widen upon the shock of seeing Jongin here, outside his room for the first time in about a week. 

“Jongin.”

“Captain,” Jongin greets. “It’s beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

Soojung appears confused by the casual topic, but nods nonetheless. “It is.”

“Never thought I’d see stars again.”

He raises a hand to point at the bright lights dotting the night sky, entranced by the patterns they make across the dark. 

Soojung smiles softly, perhaps grateful, but offers no other response. Jongin suspects an apology is stuck in or on the edge of her tongue, and he hopes she doesn’t say it at all. He would like to speak first.

“I’ve done some thinking,” Jongin says quietly. “I don’t forgive you. At least not yet. What you did.. Your intentions… they weren’t the best. But I know you by now, Soojung. I know you regret it, I understand that. I know that you’re a good person, that’s something I’ve never doubted. This just happens to be a bad thing you’ve done, and eventually I will forgive you. I will need more time for that, though, so if you’ll be patient.”

Soojung purses her lips before nodding in understanding. “I’m grateful you would forgive me at all. I’m not sure I deserve it.”

“You do,” Jongin says quietly. “I know you do. You’re not a bad person.”

Soojung coughs a little, smiling gratefully. “You really are of royal descent, aren’t you? You were born to be a king, kind and caring, forgiving and charming.”

“As stunned as I am about my...past death and the new body my soul had been placed into, I realized I am grateful to be alive more than anything. Because you were right. There is time to change the world for the better. I’ve decided that’s what I’ll do. That is - that is my endgame. They must have saved me for a reason. I’ll make it worth it then.” Then, with a deep breath - “I want to land.” 

 

 

 

It’s another week later that the airship lands for the first time since they brought Jongin, some four months ago. According to Yixing, they are in the former Kingdom of Whealhelm, which looked just as bad - if not worse - than Cinehaven had looked all that time ago.

It’s only Soojung that accompanies Jongin out of the airship, the two of them quiet as the wind blows at them. They climb down the ramp with not a word spoken between the two, that is, until they reach land finally. 

Jongin clutches his suitcase, the one Joohyun had offered him when he’d announced he’d be leaving. He made it clear that it was not due to the new information he had received about what really lies beneath his skin, but rather, it was a personal decision that he needed to make anyway. What he had learned about himself and what had happened only helped to reach the conclusion he needed to make after all. 

The past week for Soojung and Jongin themselves had been teeming with awkwardness. Jongin can’t deny the affection he had for her; he couldn’t deny that the woman he loved was still there. After all, he fell in love with her for her kindness and bravery, her independence and confidence. None of that changed despite the fact that she had initially meant to to simply examine him for her own purposes. She’s apologized profusely since then as well, and has expressed her regret with more than just words, but with tears and distance. Jongin would always have to be the one to approach her first, because he knew very well that she was too afraid to. He knows she regrets it. He knows she loves him.  It’s uncomfortable at times but there’s an understanding between them. Jongin had eased them back into a normal, uncomplicated relationship, laughing and joking along as usual when he had brought up the mechanics of - ironically, and with a laugh - clockwork. He had jokingly asked if she loved him simply because he was made of cogs and gears like her favorite pocket watch, and she had laughed, eyes crinkling in that way Jongin so adores. 

Soojung explained everything to him as well, saying she felt she owed it to him. She had known Jongin was one of Arcavale’s experiment machines because the news of Prince Kim Jongin being dead had reached every corner of the world. So when he had suddenly appeared in front of her back in Cinehaven, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots. 

She and her crew were originally members of the Arcavale crew as well, until eventually they began to grow dubious of their plans and how they would turn out. They had set off on the Ironhelm, Soojung’s airship, to start their own search for repopulation. However, they were pirates even before the apocalypse, and when Soojung saw the chance to catch up on Arcavale’s progress via examining Jongin, she took it.

Then she explained to him how the inexplicable happened - how she fell in love without realizing until she was in too deep. She said she was marveled by how utterly human Jongin was, despite the fact that he scientifically wasn’t. She discovered then, that being human doesn’t necessarily mean you have proper functioning heart, with veins and blood flowing through. Being human only means that the heart - whether artificial or not - is kind and caring, gentle and forgiving. Jongin is the most human person she’s ever met.

Jongin doesn’t fall short on praising Soojung either. He tells her she is kind, even if she doesn’t think so. He tells her she is confident, and at least this she knows. He tells her that he fell in love with her laugh, the way it bubbles out of her so freely and authentic. Most of all, he tries to tell her that she isn’t a bad person, no matter what she thinks. Even if so, there is always a second chance for everyone out there, but especially those who have learned from their mistakes.

And now, here they are, alone in the midst of fog, and finally on land.

Jongin turns to face her, finality in his gaze.

“One day we will meet again, in better circumstances,” he starts. “By then,  we will both be better people. First, I must make something of this land again. You people on your airships - you can’t run away from the problem forever. I certainly will not. I will better this world, I will rebuild my kingdom, and when all that is said and done, “ Jongin pauses, smiling a little, “we will meet again.”

There’s a sadness in Soojung’s eyes, and she looks down, forcing a smile onto her face as she nods. “It’s been quite the pleasure, prince,” she says. She opens to say more, but then she’s shutting it again, deciding against it. With that, she begins to turn away, that tentative smile still on her face as she walks back up the platform.

Jongin battles with himself.

He thinks of her sweet laughter, of her beautiful hair, of how soft her lips had felt on his own. 

He thinks of those nights at the front of the airship's deck, where they’d laughed and joked all night long for the past four months. Something in him is already missing her.

“Unless of course -” Jongin calls behind her, and she stops, waiting - “you would rather come with me.”

Soojung turns her head curiously, and this time, a genuine smile crosses her face. 

“I love you,” she says, turning around fully to look down at him from where she stands above him on the ramp, “but you’re right. We need this time apart. Besides, I can’t tie myself to the land. Up in the clouds is where I belong. I’ve never been a grounded woman.”

Jongin smiles in return at her answer, because it is so incredibly her. “What are you off to now, then?” he asks.

“Me?” Soojung says. She purses her lips thoughtfully, humming in contemplation. “I’m off to do some good, I suppose. Nomads - they would need shelter, wouldn’t they? A home? I think I know just the place.” 

Behind her, the airship sputters alive, its gears rotating as it switches on, readying for takeoff.

“They can stay with me until land becomes a bit more livable,” Soojung continues. Then she’s grinning playfully, a spark in her eyes. “I know someone, you see, who plans to make it all better. Who plans to restore our world to the beauty it once was. And I have confidence that he will do just that, and more.”

She’s stepping backwards up the ramp slowly, eyes never leaving Jongin’s. They share soft glances and gentle smiles in the middle of the gray and smoke. Jongin feels inexplicably warm inside his chest, his heart glowing with fondness.

“Until next time, then?” he calls to her.

Fog clouds between them, their coats fluttering in the silent wind. The cold bites at their nimble fingers, turning them red and raw, but the intensity of their gazes across the dock is enough to send warm shivers down Jongin’s spine. He counts the seconds it takes for her to answer. He indulges in the slow way her thin lips turn up into a grand, genuine smile. And he smiles hopefully in return - a promise.

“Until next time,” she confirms, and with that, she’s turning away again, her long coat billowing behind her as she climbs aboard the ramp. The fog clouds Jongin’s view, but he watches until the very moment he can’t see her any longer. His last glimpse is of chestnut hair blowing into the wind wildly, before finally, she spares him another glance, another smile, and a tentative - almost shy - wave of her hand.

Until next time.

Jongin clings to the words for only a minute before engraving them in his heart. Here they will be kept, until the day they meet again. For now - the future of this dull and gray wasteland before him is in his hands, and he will do his best to see that it becomes the beautiful land it once was. Something exciting and extraordinary enough to keep even Jung Soojung grounded, though he knows that’s impossible. A man can dream. Made of cogs and copper he may be, but Soojung had been right. He is still the prince, and he still has a duty to uphold.

He turns away finally when the airship leaves, flying off into the fog. There’s a feeling welling up in him, and he isn’t sure if it’s pleasant or not. It does, however, set up a determination within him. Here he is, dead set in the middle of a literal apocalyptic wasteland, with a body he can’t quite fully understand just yet. He isn’t sure what will happen, nor if it will even be a success. He doesn’t even know where to start, though he has a feeling he should try and find this Arcavale that he’d apparently escaped. He wasn’t sure if anything was even going to work out, but damn it all if he isn’t going to try. 

Until next time. Next time, they will both be people they can be proud of. 

Over the fog, there’s a peek of orange that catches Jongin’s attention. It spans from the horizon into the sky, just a small inkling of a bright orange that bleeds into the gray atmosphere.  Jongin smiles to himself at the sight. He takes comfort in the fact that the Ironhelm Captain might be doing the same.

The sun is out. Amongst the gray and dull, there is color, and this is all the sign he needs to push on. It is only the beginning, after all. 

 

 

🌼

-julia