imin leant on the desk, concentrating on the study manual in front of him, hand clumsy as he traced around the guidelines for letters. It was a kid’s book, Namjoon had told him that straight out, and even though he had wriggled with the reminder that he was nowhere near an adult’s level of knowledge in this world, he worked slowly but steadily through it. He had been for the last month at least, and the only thing that made the enforced exile in the complex worth it was Taehyung.

 

The young gumiho had visited the very next day after the vision, bearing snacks and medicines and hugs, and he had simply never left. Jin, frustrated, had eventually gotten Jimin a double bed just so that the two teens could sleep together. It was Taehyung that had stuck glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling in the shape of his favourite constellations, and Taehyung that spun stories for him until they fell asleep, and Taehyung that was becoming a very close friend. A best friend, almost, not something Jimin had ever had before.

 

It was Taehyung that currently sat next to him, colouring in the cute black-and-white drawings on the book’s other page as he waited for Jimin to laboriously scrawl his way through the day’s assignment.

 

Sometimes, ever so briefly, Jimin wished that he wasn’t there. Though he was very strange, he was tall and slim and beautiful, he wrote as if his hand blessed the page with each syllable, and he knew so much that Jimin felt tiny and less in a way he couldn’t communicate. He had a deep, restful singing voice, and was almost perfect. Too perfect.

 

He was also mischievous and malicious and sly, but thankfully Jimin hadn’t suffered under that side yet, though the resident spirits complained all the time to Jin.

 

He had plenty of reasons to loathe Taehyung, but he couldn’t. Not when Taehyung carefully helped him sound out syllables, or corrected his pronunciation, or explained about technology. Not when Taehyung held him at nights with arms, legs and two tails when he cried from fear and homesickness and the crushing uncertainty of why he had come here. He had thought that Jin-hyung was a brother, but Taehyung was entirely a different one, feeling ever so slightly younger and cocky with it, but sweet and giving.

 

Right now though, listening to the gumiho’s umpteenth sigh, he turned to him, elbow poking him in the side. “Stop that. Tell me a story if you’re that bored.”

 

“What kind of story?” Taehyung asked as he meticulously coloured a little girl’s face a clear periwinkle blue, to go with the orange frock he had already given her.

 

“Hm. Okay… um. Why do you only have two tails? I thought all gumiho had nine. I mean, your mother certainly had nine, and that drawing you showed me of your little sister had them as well. If that’s not too rude of me to ask?”

 

Taehyung blinked and looked up at him. “Why would that be rude, Jiminie? We’re friends, right?”

 

Jimin melted and looked back at the book to avoid pinching his cheeks. “We are.”

 

“All gumiho have nine tails,” Tae said in Namjoon’s lecture-voice. “Legend says that if a fox lives for a thousand years, they become gumiho, but it isn’t like that. When I was born, I had nine tails as well. That strength came from my mother during the last months of her pregnancy. She had none, because all of it was going into me to form my fox-stone. Same with my sister, which is why it’s a big deal in the courts for Jin-hyung to have protected her. If the curse had hit, it would have taken her out, and my sister.”

 

“Were you as cute as your sister when you were born?”

 

Laughing, Taehyung nodded. “Cuter. Way cuter. But something happened just after I was born, and my stone was stolen from me. I was barely old enough to begin generating my power, so it was touch and go. The stone concentrates our powers and regulates them. It’s taken me a long time to even get back up to this level. At the moment, my baby sister is about ten times as powerful as I am. It’s really frustrating, you know? In all the world there is only one stone ever, and mine is gone. I’ll never be the crown prince.”

 

Despite Taehyung’s matter-of-fact explanation, Jimin’s heart ached for his friend. “We should…”

 

Taehyung wrinkled his nose. “Have you ever kissed someone?” he asked instead. “It’s your turn for a story now, so tell me that. Did you have a hot boyfriend where you came from?”

 

Jimin spluttered. “What… no! I was isolated at the temple, and… and I wouldn’t have a boyfriend anyway, that’s not how it works, is it? Isn’t it wrong?”

 

It took him a split-second to realise that he had said precisely the wrong thing, given the way Tae looked away and shoved the pencil back into the box of them. “Tae…?” he said hesitantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It was just not done back home, there was enough problems even getting kids, not that I would ever have gotten a chance to have a kid. The priests didn’t allow anyone but themselves near. And even here it’s kind of frowned upon, from what I know?”

 

“I like boys,” Taehyung blurted out defensively. “I do, and I’m not ashamed of that. You don’t get to make me feel ashamed of that, Jiminie. Not when you know crap-all about that kind of thing. Don’t be a stupid human, okay?”

 

Jimin wanted to snap back, but bit his tongue to keep quiet instead.

 

“I am human though,” he managed minutes later when it became clear that Taehyung wasn’t going to speak again. “Just human.”

 

Taehyung scoffed. “Even if you ignore the fact that you’re Jin’s apprentice, you’ve got too much power to be a mundane. And I don’t understand, what’s so wrong with a boy? It’s not like I’m holding you down and forcing you to let me you, is it?”

 

Jimin stared and stared at him. He might have been sheltered, but Jin had sat him down for an excruciating talk once he found out he had never even kissed someone. It had been absolutely mortifying, and filled with a great deal of detail. Objects too, though he still felt sorry for the poor cucumber. He had an idea what Tae was talking about – there had been a humiliating few minutes spent on that topic in The Talk – but his mind still shorted at the thought of his best friend his .

 

“I’m stronger than you,” he finally said.

 

Taehyung scoffed again. “Trust me, really, you’re not. Don’t think I’m weak because I’m careful and I only have… have like two tails. I could still bench-press Namjoon-hyung. Why are you listening to the morals of people that forced you to in a bucket because they were too stupid to invent indoor toilets?”

 

…it’s only a container…

 

The thought flickered in Jimin’s mind, delivered in a dark, smooth voice. He was unsure where it came from. “You wouldn’t do it because it’d be wrong and you’re a good guy,” he finally said. “Sorry, my brain is mush. I really don’t have anything to judge by.” He swallowed. “But you’re my friend, Tae. If that’s what you like it’s not wrong, okay? I’m sorry I thought that. I think… I think someone once told me that bodies are just containers, and that what we fall in love with is inside, and the shape of the container doesn’t matter.”

 

His fox friend blinked at him and hesitantly scooted closer. “Who said that?”

 

“I don’t know,” Jimin muttered. “Someone wiser than I am. And I’m tired of this lesson. I think writing is eating my brain.”

 

Tae considered him. “Do you want to come and celebrate Christmas with us at the court?” he offered. “My mom’s not Christian or anything, but it’s big here in Seoul, so we do the whole shebang as well, and I’m sure Namjoon-hyung can put up some temporary wards. There are games and dancing and all kinds of parties, and we exchange gifts too.

 

As glad as Jimin was that Tae had accepted the change of topic – he really needed to think of it a little more – the thought of having to exchange gifts practically paralysed him. “I don’t know,” he havered. “I really don’t have anything to give people, and I don’t want to own Jin-hyung even more money.”

 

“You got my mom a goose,” Tae countered. “Gifts are always better if they’re handcrafted. Perhaps you could, um, write down a series of small blessings? I’ll help with the paper and ink, and especially the older folk at court would be flattered to get something like that. Having a mudangintercede for you with the Triune for a blessing on their family is a really big thing. Some of them are old enough they even like it when you just visit them for tea and listen to their stories.”

 

Jimin stared at his friend, the easy slope of his neck into his shoulders, and tried to imagine what it had to be like to be a prince with too little power, instead of a peasant with too much. “Tae,” he said, surprised and gently. “Tae-ah, you really do love them, even if they look down on you?”

 

“I love a lot of people, Jiminie, you included,” Tae muttered. “You smell good and you only have idiotic thoughts occasionally.”

 

Jimin stood and reached to hug his friend, uncaring that Taehyung squawked into his striped shirt, or that his two tails stiffened with shock for a second before they wound around his waist again.

 

“Come on,” Jimin said. “Let’s go and speak to Jin about it.”

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1. So for those keeping track, we started off in October and are now into December already, close to the end of the year! Due to the large population of Christians in South Korea, it is celebrated there. In fact. South Korea is the only East Asian country that I know of that has it as a public holiday, so there’s that. I figure that the court, whilst not quite so modern as the rest of the place, regards any such celebration as an opportunity to throw extravagant parties. For most others, however, it’s just a shopping holiday, as it’s not really close to any of the traditional festivals.
2. We find out why Tae, despite being a gumiho, has only two tails.
3. We also find out that he likes boys, which is another nail in Jimin’s opinion about boys being together, uality as a whole and just the general concept of love.