It didn’t take long for him to realise the shadows were his friend as he maneuvered through the capitol, briskly but desperate to stay hidden. The night was dark, the buildings felt taller than they usually did, and the emptiness of the streets echoed with silence. All he had was a small bag slung over his shoulder, and a dagger poking from his jacket pocket. He had nowhere to go, nobody to trust, and nothing to eat.

 

Taemin was only fourteen when he ran away from home, bursting at the seams and finally deciding to no longer tolerate the utter agony that household put him through day after day. He’d always thought that the world would be so much better once he left, and this better world would present itself to him the moment he stepped outside. Heavens, he’d been so stupid. Taemin didn’t want to admit he was scared, and declared himself a seeker of ‘better’. But first he was hungry, like, totally starving.

 

The noble born boy had no idea what was required to successfully steal from somebody. Once he’d made his mind up he seeked out the first house without any candles lit, and felt around the windows until one shifted, unlocked. Slowly, carefully, without making a sound Taemin glided the window open and took a cautious look inside.

 

He couldn’t see anything, but figured it was safe enough. The boy stuck one lanky leg inside, then with all the grace he could muster he pulled the rest of himself in. Good. Perfect. His eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and he was relieved to confirm he hadn’t landed himself in the bedroom. That would be embarrassing, and end with him getting caught and sent back to his father. And that would just be the epitome of hell.

 

Tiptoeing across the floor, he found the kitchen like his heart had lead him to it. Each cupboard door he opened was inch by inch, as to not make a single creak, and he was smart enough to take the food which was neither heavy or capable of making noise. Bread was Taemin’s best friend now. Satisfied with his successful robbing of this random house, he called it a night. However just as Taemin turned to leave he heard the creak of a floorboard, and in an instant something cool was pressing against his neck.

 

It was his dagger.

 

Taemin in a breath, and met the eyes of the man who caught him.

 

Only it wasn’t a man. No, as Taemin looked closer it was only a boy, surely not much older than himself but perhaps some amount taller. He would’ve relaxed at the realisation, if it weren’t for the dagger directed at his neck.

 

“Proclaim yourself, thief.” the stranger demanded, his voice low.

 

Taemin did the first thing he thought of. “I’m sorry!” he said as he dropped to the floor and bowed, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m just a poor kid from the streets! I haven’t eaten in days! I didn’t mean to steal!”

 

(He’d watched a real poor kid say the same words when caught sneaking into the royal kitchen. His uncle, the king at the time, had been kind enough to let him go without punishment.)

 

There was silence, just for a moment. “Uh… Well, where are your parents?”

 

“Dead.” Taemin lied dramatically, pretending his sniffle was out of sadness and not fear.

 

“Oh.”

 

Daring to lift his head from the floor, he was quietly shocked to see the once threatening older boy now standing rather lamely. The dagger too, was hanging by his side like he wasn’t sure what to do with it now. Taemin wonders what this kid’s deal is, if that’s all it takes to get him to back off.

 

And he was shocked again, when he squatted down and smiled.

 

“My name’s Minho.” he introduced himself, placing the knife on the floor and holding out his hand. “What’s yours?”
 

“Tae--” he stuttered, worrying that should his father send out a search for him he’ll be discovered. Another lie, then. “Taejoon.”

 

They shook hands.

 

Minho took his bag, and placed the bread that had fallen out back in. “I have a friend whose village all died in a dragon attack. His parents, too. But he lives with me now, and he’s like an older brother.” he handed the bag back over. “Do you have another home to go to?”

 

Taemin blinked. “Um. Yeah, I think there’s somewhere I can go.”

 

Minho, this boy who’d just caught a random kid digging through someone’s kitchen, stood and dusted off his pants. The dagger momentarily forgotten. He smiled, too.

 

“It’s pretty dangerous at night. Let’s go there together.”

 

 

Children were always warned never to go up any of the mountains, but especially the tallest one that stood just outside the capitol’s border. They were filled with dangerous shadow creatures, that would attack any who ventured too close. Blah blah blah. It was those exact threats that encouraged Taemin to climb every mountain and explore every thicket that his legs could take him to. He might’ve been only fourteen, but he had enough magic ability to protect himself should a shadow come at him.

 

So up the tallest mountain they went. Taemin couldn’t figure out why Minho wanted to tag along, like there must be something wrong with him. It took awhile but they made it to a cave he’d found a year ago, big and wide and very far away from any person who might come looking for him.

 

“This… Is where you want to live?” poorly concealed judgement reeked from Minho’s expression.

 

But Taemin was happy. “Yep.”

 

“But what about your bed?” the older boy scratches his neck, puzzled. “Or, I dunno, a lamp? And isn’t the location kind of dangerous? Wouldn’t there be lots of shadows around here? Why didn’t we see any on our way up? Don’t you think that’s weird?”

 

Taemin was already halfway through a roll of bread when he was bombarded with Minho’s questions. He looked around. There really was nothing in here, just a floor and walls. Compared to the luxury of his nobel home, Taemin really was homeless now. But he’d much rather be in an empty, cold cave than that house ever again. He scrunched his nose, waved his hand around and summoned a ball of fire to hover in the center of the roof.

 

“Isf that beffer?” he asked, with his mouth full.

 

Minho crossed his arms. “Okay, so you’re a mage. But you still need a bed.”

 

The mage blinked, swallowed the rest of his bread, then pointed at the floor. “Here’s alright.”

 

Now, Minho sighed. “I’ll take you down the streets tomorrow, we’ll look for something together.”

 

The older boy walked closer, taking off his jacket and rolling it up. Taemin watched rather dumbly as he took a seat on the cave floor, then looked back up at him like he should be doing the same. So he did. With the fire lighting them from above, he could finally see Minho’s face properly. His eyes were round, his face small. Taemin thought he must have a lot of friends, since he’s both tall and good looking. And apparently weirdly nice, disregarding the whole dagger to the neck thing.

 

Distracted, he forgot what he should say. So Minho spoke.

 

“I’ll stay with you tonight, to protect you in case any shadows sneak in.” he declared. “But I have to get back to my uncle’s in the morning before he wakes up.”

 

“You live with your uncle?”

 

“Nah, my father and I are staying with him this weekend.” Minho explained, leaning back on his palms. “I’m from Taebaek.”

 

Taemin paused. Some part of him felt a sting of disappointment. “So… You’re going back there on Sunday?”

 

It was only Friday.

 

“Monday morning. But don’t worry!” Minho nudged him with his shoulder. “I’ll visit you tomorrow, and the next day.”

 

The disappointment shifted into discomfort, and Taemin’s brows pulled into a frown. He really couldn’t understand this guy. All these years he’d had a hard time making any kind of resemblance of friends. Nobody at school wanted to play with him because of that one time in preschool when he picked his nose and flung the booger at the girl he liked. And yet, this random guy came into his life and in the span of two hours decided to stick around for a whole weekend.

 

“Why are you being so nice?” Taemin decided to ask outright. “You don’t know me. You found me stealing from your uncle.”

 

“What you’re going through must , I know my brother had a rough time when his parents died.” Minho shrugged, and flashed a grin. “I dunno. Helping you is the right thing to do.”

 

The right thing to do. Taemin began to feel bad about lying, but it was too late to take it back. So he didn’t say anything when Minho called it a night, dispersing of the flame and letting the night engulf them once more.

 

“Taejoon…” he was being shaken awake. “Hey, Taejoon… I gotta go.”

 

Minho woke Taemin at a totally inhumane hour, and it took every ounce of strength for the mage not to just crash and fall back asleep. He rubbed his eyes, vaguely collected the bits of memory to recall where he was and why, and sluggishly trailed behind the older boy to the entrance.

 

“Do you… Know how to…” he yawned. “Get back?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Minho stopped just outside the cave. “Woah… Look at this view.”

 

Taemin had been up this mountain a fair few times now, but either once the sun was already high in the sky or in the dead of the night. He’d read, and heard about how miraculous a sunrise is yet it was only now that he fully realised just how miraculous. The sun was just peeking out of the horizon, a slight fog dusting the ground. No, it was the colours. An explosion of red and orange, vibrant against the expanding blue and white clouds. Below them, the capitol was mere silhouettes, but light slowly crept along the streets. Taemin had never seen a sight like this. And he knew, this was his home.

 

“I guess every home does have its perks.” Minho grinned at him, but he could only blink in response. “I’ll meet you here when my father lets me loose.”

 

Everything was changing.

 

“Okay.”

 

 

He’d thought it would be dangerous to roam the streets only a day after he ran away from home, but it appeared to him that his father hadn’t sent out a search party just yet. Of course. He was an idiot to think that his father would care enough to notice straight away that he was missing. Taemin’s mood was instantly dampened at the thought, but it was hard to stay grumpy when Minho finally returned.

 

Taemin had a of genius the night before and taken some money from his mother’s secret stash, one which he only many years later realised might’ve been for her own unaccomplished escape. Beds were expensive, and he couldn’t imagine it’d be easy to drag one all the way to the cave, so he and Minho concluded it’d be more effective to buy a few travel mats and stack them. That was the beginning.

 

By the end of the day Taemin’s cave had a bed, with blankets and everything, a small bench, more food, a wooden dog ornament, and a pile of books. The books were Minho’s idea, who said it would’ve been his brother’s idea, because Taemin didn’t like to read but apparently it’s important. The older boy insisted that he’d paid for them. Taemin wasn’t very sure, for he hadn’t seen a pouch of coins anywhere in Minho’s pockets. However he wasn’t about to complain, that would just be hypocritical.

 

On Sunday, Minho had to spend the day with his father. Taemin didn’t want to be bothered because the guy he’d met only a day and a half ago was busy, so he sat in his cave and sulked about literally anything else. And then that began to , therefore he picked up a book and forced himself to read it. Something about knights and princesses and dragons. Taemin liked the dragons part, but didn’t really care for the rest.

 

“But if you had to choose, what would it be?” Taemin grinned. “Slugs for fingers, or snails for eyes?”

 

Minho cringed, but there was laughter in his eyes. “You’re so weird. Snails for eyes doesn’t even make sense.”

 

Taemin couldn’t help it, and started laughing. “Y-Yah, eating with slug fingers would be so gross! Imagine them wriggling around while you’re picking up bread.”

 

“The slugs are alive?!” Minho’s round eyes turned impossibly bigger.

 

Despite needing to leave early again the next morning, the older boy stayed the night. Taemin was relieved, but didn’t say that out loud.

 

“Here, this should be sharp enough.”

 

Minho found a rock and was currently sitting in front of the cave wall, a metre or so from the bed. The mage joined him, and watched as he began carving into the wall. It seemed to take a lot of effort, but being older Minho was pretty tough. And when he’d finished, he showed off his work with a flashy grin.

Tae
Joon

“Now this is officially yours.” he proclaimed, looking quite proud of himself. “How does it feel to own an entire mountain?”

 

It didn’t look quite right, though. Taemin took the rock from Minho’s hand and scrunched his face as he tried to scratch into the hard cave wall. Only when he pulled away, finally complete, did it feel right.

 Tae     Min
Joon    Ho

He didn’t know how to say goodbye to a stranger who’d become a friend in less than three days. Dawn spread across the land, seeped into the cave, and Minho had to go. Taemin wasn’t sure of what to say, and didn’t want to seem weak or childish. After all, they were still strangers. He held onto the hope that the elder wouldn’t forget him, and he could pay him back for all he’d done.

 

“I’ll definitely come visit, whenever I’m in the capitol.” Minho promised, before the glow of sunrise. “And if you ever come to Taebaek, just ask around. Everybody knows everybody there.”

 

Taemin did his best to smile. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for… the stuff.”

 

“Stay safe, Taejoon.” the older boy reached out, and ruffed his hair.

 

And then he was gone, disappearing down amongst the trees. Taemin tried to find him in the silhouettes of the capitol’s streets, yet it was pointless.

 

Taemin never became better at saying goodbye, and he really had no idea just how many times he could say goodbye to the same person.

 

 

He grew up, little by little. Waiting for Minho’s return lasted roughly three months before he had to accept he wasn’t coming back. Living by stealing food was exhausting and unsatisfying, Taemin got himself a job at a tavern down in the lower town of the capitol. It was far from the capitol centre and the nosy nobles who lived within it, and the owner, Sangwoo, was a friendly man who laughed with his belly. The customers were loud and overbearing but Taemin adjusted to it, catching onto their humour and learning how to cuss. It wasn’t the best environment, but it was what he had.

 

Two years passed him by before he had the time to look back. His father had stopped any searches for him long ago. The young noble boy he once was, was no more. Taemin was sixteen now.

Another night at the tavern, serving drinks and wiping down tables. Taemin had just finished the usual banter with a usual customer when a group entered the bar, and he recognised them instantly as knight trainees. It was that time of year again, where the wave of young men with too much confidence for their tiny brains would come swinging in to brag about their valiant futures. Taemin had thought they were pretty admirable once, when he was a child fed with a silver spoon. Now he wasn’t stupid. His uncle might’ve ruled the kingdom but there was no standards when it came to who guarded the streets. As if simply being noble born could make someone worthy. No, the majority of the men in armour wore it for more control and power, while blindly following their king’s every word.

 

Bitter and young, Taemin watched with thinly veiled distaste as the knights in training waltzed into the tavern and took over a booth. But then his eyes fell upon a certain face. His heart stopped. Two years could change somebody, but while there was obvious change he knew who it was.

 

Minho.

 

It just had to be him, too, who left the booth and approached the bar to order. Taemin did anything except watch him, remaining somewhat nonchalant as he wiped down a glass for the third time in a row. But it was too late.

 

“Taejoon?” that voice called, and he looked up to meet the gaze of the boy he’d met two years ago. Only now, he was probably an adult. A man. “Are you Taejoon?”

 

Taemin glanced around to ensure nobody was listening in. Since joining the tavern, he’d been going by his real name.

 

“Yeah. Minho?” he asked as if he needed reassuring, and the way Minho’s expression enlightened with a beaming smile made him smile, too. “Long time no see.”

 

“Wow. This is wild.” Minho took a seat at the bar, leaning on his forearms. “It’s really you? How long has it been?”

 

“I don’t know,” the mage lied with a laugh. “A while.”

 

“You’re so much... taller now!” the training knight gawked. “Holy . And you have a job, that’s great!”

 

Taemin attempted subtly as he checked Minho out, whose arms were now thicker and more defined. His face too, was slimmer and his jawline stronger. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, given Minho’s energetic personality and the fact he was good looking even at sixteen. At least his smile was the same.

 

And so Minho launched into a retelling of all that he’d been up to in the last couple years. Finishing school was one thing, and now he was obviously training to become a knight. The final part of training always took place in the capitol, which explained the sudden growth in population. Apparently Minho had arrived three days ago, and Taemin swallowed back any childish grudge about him not visiting the cave yet. He’d been busy. He actually had a life and exciting things happening.

 

“So, yeah… I’m either doing shifts here or at home.” Taemin shrugged cooly, making another customer’s drink. He wondered when Minho would remember about his friends who were still waiting in the booth.

 

“Are you still at the same place?” Minho asked casually, as if it were just another house.

 

Taemin hummed. “It looks a lot better than it used to.”

 

“I’ll come by tomorrow.” the trainee knight determined, just as an impatient friend was beginning to approach him. “Does three o’clock work for you?”

 

Before Taemin could respond, Minho’s trainee friend pushed in. “I apologise on behalf of my buddy Minho, here. It’s been a while since he last flirted with somebody.”

 

Taemin stared.

 

“Anyway, we’re after four ciders…”

 

He was too busy noting the order to pay attention the Minho’s reaction, though he could tell there was a lot of spluttering. Taemin inwardly sighed, too numb inside to really care, and when the friend finally buggered off he agreed to Minho’s self invitation. He had a lot of drinks to make, and no time to ponder over what kind of knight the boy he met two years ago was becoming.

 

 

Minho kept his promise and arrived at the cave a few minutes early. The way Taemin madly cleaned up beforehand was kind of lame, really, considering this was probably the one and only time the knight in training was going to visit. But he wanted to show off, prove that he didn’t end up a total waste of space. His cave had shelves and desks now, and more importantly a real bed. It had been a hassle to get the objects up the mounting, alone since he’d wanted to keep his home a secret, but he’d managed. Living in a mountain could make one very athletic, whether they want to be or not.

 

“You weren’t not wrong, it looks a whole lot better.” Minho complimented, walking around the space to touch random objects and peek at the now extensive collection of books. “I guess you’ve done well for yourself. I couldn’t believe you still lived here, but it passes as a real home now.”

 

Taemin was normally more talkative, but something about the whole situation made him nervous. “It gets really cold in winter. I have to use up a ton of magic to not, like, die of frostbite or something.”

 

“You’ve come really far since we met.” it was another compliment, he assumed. Or maybe it wasn’t. Minho turned to look at him as he continued. “What did we even do here, when we weren’t causing havoc in the streets?”

 

He couldn’t hold back a smile. “Talked about random .”

 

“Oh yeah, like how to hide a body.” Minho snorted. “I couldn’t believe how much you knew for a fourteen year old.”

 

Realising Minho didn’t entirely forget everything was more relieving than he’d like to admit. He stayed for a few hours, and the more they talked the easier it was for Taemin to forget the endless months he’d spent thinking Minho had fallen seriously ill and died. The elder talked a lot about school, and about all the girls who’d fallen for his so-called charms. Taemin couldn’t relate to the whole schooling thing, but he did mention the one girl who worked at the tavern with him, Hyoyeon. She, however, was only interested in teasing him. Still, it felt good to have something to share and not sound like the total loner he was.

 

Minho left before sunset, and Taemin was ready to never see him again. But the knight returned again two days later, then again, and again. It became a habit to see him every second or so day, and when they talked closer into the night Minho would walk with him to the tavern. It was nice. It was strange. Taemin reminded himself that it was only temporary, but the voice of reason slipped further away each night.

 

 

Their first argument was because of a book.

 

Minho allegedly decided to look through Taemin’s book collection, as if he had any real interest in any of them. He’d thought nothing of it. Then the knight in training stumbled upon the wrong title.

 

“Taejoon…” he looked up at the name, and blinked at the serious shadows casted over Minho’s face. “This… This is a book about dark magic.”

 

.

 

Taemin had, admittedly, started dabbling into dark magic last year when winter was getting real difficult and his mood was sinking. There were spells that would use the magic of darkness rather than the earth, and were a lot stronger. He never considered the messed up spells. Only what he needed.

 

That didn’t change the fact that any use of dark magic was prohibited by death. And the man standing before him was a loyal follower of the king.

 

“It-It is.” Taemin started pathetically, standing. “But I only read it.”

 

“You only read it? What is that supposed to mean?” his friend stepped forward, holding up the book by the spine. “You shouldn’t even own this. Dark magic is dangerous, you could kill somebody with this .”

 

“I wouldn’t kill anybody!” he was just being ridiculous now. To even suggest he’d do such a thing proved Minho was still a stranger. “What the , Minho. I’m a ing mage, I have to read about magic. It doesn’t mean I practice everything I read.”

 

Minho shook his head. “If you don’t practice it, why would you need to read it?”

 

Then Taemin realised he was lying again. Despite the guilt, he was more angry about the accusation. “Wow, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m living in a mountain literally surrounded by shadows? Maybe because it’s important to know how dark magic is used incase I come across someone who wants to use it against me?”

 

Minho paused, and took an obvious breath of air. He’d never looked this threatening, and that was counting those years ago when there was a dagger in his hand. This time, it felt so much more perilous.

 

“You…” Minho looked away, brows pinching together. “You promise? Can you promise me you’re not practicing dark magic, that you’re only reading this for your own safety?”

 

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d lied. A part of Taemin knew it wouldn’t be the last, either.

 

“I promise, Minho.”

 

The dynamic between them shifted that day. As clear as it’d become to Taemin that the man he called his friend was loyal to the king above all else, it likely became clear to Minho that the boy in the cave wasn’t the same one he’d met. To change while separated made them clash awkwardly when they reunited, like the parts that used to fit were now all wrong.

 

They walked together to the tavern again, conversation loose and mostly filled with long pauses of silence. It wasn’t until they reached the tavern that Minho stopped, and held Taemin’s wrist back.

 

“Taejoon, I’m…” then he let go of his wrist, instead scratching his neck. “I’m sorry, about earlier.”

 

Maybe Taemin should’ve told him the truth. That while he practiced dark magic, not all dark magic was used for bad. Not all white magic was used for good. There’d been a stubborn line drawn between the two forms when there should be none at all.

 

“It’s fine.” he replied instead, and something hurts.

 

“It’s not fine, I accused you of… Of a terrible crime.” And there it was. Minho’s apology was, in the end, one still intertwined with ignorance. He’d never understand as long as a king sat in the throne and told his people what to think.

 

The knight then stepped closer, and before Taemin could process what was happening he was being pulled into a hug. Taemin stood, rigid, as Minho’s big arms wrapped around him. Then his heart started thudding against his ribs, his breath caught. When air returned to his brain he remembered normal people return hugs, and placed his arms around the older boy’s torso. He wasn’t so much smaller than Minho like he used to be, but the fit was still awkward. His own arms were too thin. The warmth radiating from Minho’s chest was suffocating.

 

The embrace ended a short moment later.

 

“Have a good shift.” Minho pulled back, and smiled as he ruffled Taemin’s hair. “I’ll see you on Thursday, okay?”

 

Taemin nodded once. “Okay.”

 

Minho disappeared up the street, seemingly unaffected by something that had just winded Taemin.

 

The new emotion stirring in his chest made everything so much more complicated.

 

 

They spent more time exploring the capitol than at Taemin’s, and the intense increase in socialisation and simply being outside was a little overwhelming. Somehow, being with Minho made it tolerable. Whenever they bumped into strangers it’d be Minho who did all the talking and swoon every passerby off their feet. Taemin felt like a weird sidekick trailing at his side sometimes, but overall he couldn’t complain. They ate street food, laughed at comedians performing in the street, and for nostalgia’s sake bought a stack of cards that Taemin had been drooling over when they’d first gone shopping two years ago.

 

It was always at home where Taemin felt most content.

 

“I remember watching the sunrise from here, that first time.” Minho contemplated. “I was too cool then to say how beautiful it was. I’m still too cool.”

 

Taemin snorted. “You were never cool.”

 

They sat together at the cave entrance, watching the sun sink into the horizon. For once Taemin didn’t need to work, and Minho was free of training responsibilities. Lazing about felt like the perfect way to spend the evening.

 

“I never asked you... about your parents.” Minho began suddenly yet slowly, catching Taemin by surprise. “It’s getting close to the anniversary now, right?”

 

Taemin hummed in response, pulling his knees to his chest.

 

“What… were they like?” the knight paused, cautious. “If… you don’t mind me asking.”

 

Maybe he didn't have to lie this time. After all, he’d never suggested his parents were saints, simply that they were dead. And they are, technically, dead to him.

 

“They were s.” Taemin stated bluntly, and it felt good to tell the truth. In addition, the quiet shock on Minho’s face was oddly satisfying. “My father was a dictating, violent brute and my mother a pathetic alcoholic who knew every insult in the book. Nobody deserves to die, but I don’t really miss them.”

 

Minho hesitated, then replied simply. “Oh.”

 

He had to laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you were expecting me to talk about my mother’s cooking or my father’s jokes. Unfortunately not everybody gets the cookie-cutter family.”

 

A minute passed between them, then the knight spoke. “Are you happier now?”

 

Taemin flickered his gaze to Minho. He seemed genuinely concerned, maybe a little sorry. The mage was glad he hadn’t started his reply with an apology. That, to Taemin, always felt like the most scripted words to use when hearing of someone else’s misfortune. Not that people spoke to him about his life story, ever.

 

“I’m happier.” he might’ve felt numb at times, or angry at the world. But it was still better than where he’d come from. “Living alone is freeing.”

 

Orange splayed over Minho’s face, the sunset at its peak. Taemin wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to accept the hand that was being extended.

 

“I’m glad.” Minho smiled, and they let the conversation end there.

 

Taemin only realised afterwards that was the first time he’d spoken of his parents since he’d ranaway. The first time, ever, he’d told someone honestly how they’d treated him. So much of his childhood was spent hiding, he felt a pang of fear that his teenage years were going to be the same.

 

 

Minho spent his last night in the capitol with Taemin, much to the mage’s surprise. They joked about as they rolled out the old travel mats and stacked them up beside Taemin’s bed, and Minho failed at making his mother’s special vegetable soup. The smell filling the cave was so bad they had to leave the cave, which resulted in a race to the bottom and back up again. Minho, despite his athleticism and incredibly competitive nature, had no chance against the mage who’d climbed the mountain for years.

 

Everything good ends. They fell asleep late and woke up early, in time to watch the sunrise. It felt like deja vu, having Minho leave at the crack of dawn.

 

“I’m going to be a full time knight when I get back home.” Minho started awkwardly, hovering at the entrance. “I’m not sure when--”

 

“We talked about it already, Minho.”

 

The fact that crossing paths wasn’t liking to happen for some time. Minho would have no reason to go to the capitol unless something drastic occured in the kingdom, and neither of them could just get up and leave their positions where they were.

 

“Chill out, really.” Taemin nudged him, albeit enjoying the older boy’s small pout. “We’ll catch up sometime.”

 

It was a false hope, not dissimilar from last time. Minho was going back to his home with his friends, to see all his other friends and family. He had a whole life set up for him, a line of potential wives to complete his noble knight life. Again, it was Taemin being left alone. Again, it was Taemin who’d be just a speck amongst the great achievers. He didn’t want to get angry. He didn’t want to ruin the last moment he’d share with Minho.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Minho reached out and instead of ruffling Taemin’s hair he lightly it, hand trailing down and lingering on his neck before he pulled back. Taemin wasn’t sure what he was doing, but did what he felt.

 

This was going to be the last he saw of Minho. Minho, who was taking everything and leaving him with nothing. Minho, who confused him and comforted him and gave him a friend when he’d thought he’d never have one.

 

He closed the distance between them. He stood slightly, only slightly, on his toes. He placed a hand on Minho’s neck and felt the heat of the red sunrise between his fingertips. He kissed him. Their lips met, slow and unsure. As much as he yearned to believe there was a tomorrow for them, he knew it was futile. So he claimed this moment, this today, as he claimed Minho’s lips for one innocent kiss. That was all he needed. No, all he needed was the confirming hand now on his hip. His heart raced. The kiss ended.

 

Taemin was good at ruining things.

 

In spite of that, Minho was smiling when they pulled apart.

 

“Stay happy, Taejoon.”

 

Again, Minho turned and disappeared down into the trees.

 

Taemin watched the sunrise, orange and red and yellow and blue.

 

The day began, and his life with Minho came to an end.

 

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Author's Note: the second part will be focused on the events right before and during where darkness resides!! please look forward to it!! uwu