chapter
Three

circuit cut?

For the first time in his university life, Mingyu couldn’t focus on his favourite unit – chemistry. He would twist his pen within the hem of his fingers, all the while staring absentmindedly at the corner of his book. But what could he do? He was at the mercy of his mind.

Roseanne Park, if his memory served right.

Of course. The girl who spilled coffee onto his enrolment paper first thing in the morning of the new semester. That glorious strawberry blonde locks that she bunned up with little flyaways here and there gracing the nape of her neck as she curled down to pick up the fallen cup. That must be why she seemed familiar. That night, and yesterday too.

But a ert? How dare she called him, the faculty, no, the university’s pride a ert?! Exactly which sort of perspective did she apply, what sort of lens should one use to deduce him a ert?

“Kim Mingyu…”

A soft voice called out to him, but it didn’t seem to stop his trail of thoughts.

He never knew there would come a day where he would curse the fact that he and Wonwoo were in different departments. Where else could he find another Wonwoo? But of course – who could keep up with his circular ranting? Talking to Wonwoo would usually help him ease his mind a bit. And right now, more than ever, he needed him bad.

“KIM MINGYU!”

The earlier soft calling had turned stronger, followed by a rather raspy cough. How could he not notice the obvious staring his colleagues had been giving him, probably intrigued by the fact that even he could get unusually distracted. He cursed himself for inviting unnecessary attention, and making his some 60 or so Professor yelled at him.

Right now was probably not the best time to let his mind wander off for a girl, right?

***
 

His footsteps were heavy, and so was the air around him. His blade he tied upon his back, and the height of it made it slightly touched the ground, brushing his long coat repeatedly. He seemed to be in deep thought, struggling to suppress his emotion. But nevertheless he managed a poker face just fine.

There was only the tall gate with ancient scribblings between him and him now. He took a deep breath to calm his nervous cells. He wasn’t afraid nor was he powerless against him. He merely hated the fact that he was this close to getting criticized at for a decision he didn’t ratify. Knowing him, he was sure he would not escape revilement.

But without further ado, he nudged the tall, heavy gate open with a slight push of his left hand, effortlessly.

A long maroon carpet laced its way to a seven step stair, where a gold throne sat proudly. There he was. A rather unique figure. With his back slouched comfortably on the throne, his left leg hanging ever so freely on the armrest. His hood barely revealed a tip of his nose. But for sure, he must be wearing his scornful smirk.

“Ah… my Commander, Hoshi,” he drawled upon hearing the door creaked open. He didn’t bother to look – his attention was occupied with the three green stones within his palm.

Hoshi took off his blade from his back as he hunched down on one knee, head bowed, finally extending his greetings towards his people’s Emperor.

“So… how did it… go?” He questioned his commander, his fingers still fumbling about the green stones back and forth.

Hoshi hid his tensed face as he carefully replied. “I’m afraid it’ll take more time, Your Excellence. But I’ll see it happen.”

A round of silence engulfed the already tranquil chamber, but just for a moment, before his roaring laughter echoed in exchange. It sounded rather forced, and needless to say, sarcastic.

The Emperor got up from his throne, swiftly pocketing the green stones into his lavish tunic. His light footsteps grazed upon the maroon carpet and stopped just in front of Hoshi. He too, hunched down.

“Hoshi, my dear. You are my favourite,” his finger brushed cautiously against his black strands, as if it was the finest silk. He brought himself closer to Hoshi's ear. He whispered slightly, “but I don’t like mistakes, my dear. Get me what I want, and I want it fast, my dear.”

Even without looking, Hoshi could very well tell what kind of face the Emperor was making, judging from his tone full contempt. He could only bow as he left the chamber in silence.

He huffed softly, his fist curled into a tight ball as he strolled along the hallway, when a voice called out to him.

“Yo!”

He was greeted with man a bit taller than him. He was resting his back on the wall of the hallway, his left arm thoroughly bandaged. His second in command. His troublemaker. Someone who’d believed in action rather than words. Like literally.

With an arrogant tone, he broke the silence between them. “You know I could’ve gotten her,” he said, as he humped his back off the wall, trailing his commander.

“She was nothing. Tch, only if I could’ve brought my tools with me. That arrogant wench and – “

“Jun,” Hoshi stopped on his track. He glanced at his subordinate with menace, enough to make him flinch.

“I will not tolerate any more of your disobedience. Make this the last time.”

And with that Hoshi left, leaving Jun harnessing his resentment. He hissed. He kicked the floor as he mumbled silently, ‘you and your god damn peace play; way to go hypocrite…’

***

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