Description

The Four Seasons: Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall are captured in the lives of four different men.

Spring: Sungmin (Light/Healing)

Summer: Hyukjae (Fire)

Fall: Yesung (Earth)

Winter: Donghae (Ice)

Chapter 1
Meet Winter

Donghae is a man of melancholy. He was born with a solemn smile and content thoughts. His family had abadoned him, citing a curse as the reason why he wasn't their child. A child born with platinum blonde hair and silvery-blue eyes, even his skin was ice cold. He didn't even cry during his birth. A pinch to his bottom, a smack on the cheek and he stayed calm, his eyes wide open and breathing at the same time.

When they abandoned him, he was 5 years old. He did not cry, he never cried and simply watched as they dropped him off at the nearest orphanage and took off with their 9 year old, Donghwa.

Growing up, Donghae was a boy of few words. Rarely did he ever say a full sentence.

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"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Why is the sky blue?"

"Reflection."

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It wasn't that he was mute or that he was uneducated. It depended on the season. For 3 seasons, even a dash of Spring, he stayed as silent as possible unless the weather permitted his voice. The colder it was, the more talkative he became. To the elderly women who owned the orphanage, it appeared as though winter gave him life. A change of batteries to a favorite toy.

During the summer, he'd stay inside. Wouldn't even look outside his window. Whenever the ladies would force him to get fresh air, he'd faint the second the scorching heat would touch him.

By the time he was 12, all of the kids had been adopted. He was never a choice for any parent. Not even that nice lady who adopted Henry. He wanted so desperately to join the boy. Henry had been the only one to be kind to him, but when he shook her hand, she screamed and fled with Henry in tow. It was the last time he ever saw either of them.

By 15, he found a job washing dishes. The owners didn't dare to put him as a cashier. He was still too young and although his eyes would attract customers, his lack of speech would deter them.

At 16, he moved out of the orphanage in Mokpo to a small apartment in Seoul. The rent was initially $1200, but the landlord took pity, believing that Donghae was mentally challenged and lowered it to $800. Donghae didn't mind. $1200 had been a stretch for him and the measly part-time jobs he took. Thankfully, with the rent lowered he was able to start a small savings account with $100.

But things change...and so did he.

He always knew something was wrong with himself. His family, as the elderly women had told him, had brown hair and brown eyes. They seemed to be cheerful people plagued by a mistake (him). They were the total opposites of Donghae.

When he was younger, his platinum blonde hair brought trouble and his eyes brought desperate girls. The public schools he attended had teachers who would punish him relentlessly.

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"Did I not tell you yesterday, Mr. Lee that dyed hair is unacceptable in this school?"

He stayed silent. It wasn't cold enough and his throat felt dry.

"Go home and fix it."

He never did and even as the women pleaded and told the principals and teachers that his hair was natural, they still didn't believe him. As a result, he was forced to become an assistant janitor after-school hours everyday of the school week.

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"Hae! I know you have no family and all, but I could become your family. You're so hot! My ex would be jealous!"

Donghae walked right past the ditzy brunette.

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"Tryna flirt with my girlfriend? We'll see about that. Hold him down boys!"

The jock opened a bottle of brown dye he had stirred up earlier and poured it over Donghae's head.

"We'll see how much she likes you now, head."

The jock using plastic gloves, smeared the dye all over Donghae's hair, roughly rubbing the chemicals through his strands. When he finished he threw the bottle at Donghae's chest and laughed. His friends threw Donghae onto the floor and kicked him in the stomach.

"Freak."

Donghae stayed silent as the dye poured down from his scalp and the coated strands stuck to his face. He scrunched his nose in displeasure when the strong scent of ammonia filled his nostrils.

When he went home that day after vigorously washing his hair in the boys locker room, his hair was a deep rich brown. He twisted a few strands of the brittle hair and his eyes filled with tears.

Had his hair been this color since birth, would his family not have left him? Was it really that simple though? A cheap box of dye and he wouldn't be alone?

When he woke up in the morning, his hair was platinum blonde again.

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On his 18th birthday, a Saturday, he woke up on the floor. When he looked back at his bed, it was completely encased in ice and was slowly melting. In shock, he touched it and realized he didn't feel cold. It was eerily soothing and he fell asleep laying on it.

He awoke several hours later. He made himself some breakfast, which consisted of eggs, bacon, waffles, and some buttered toast with a glass of orange juice. While washing dishes, he realized what day it was...and continued washing.

Birthdays weren't a cause for celebration. The only birthday parties he had were the ones forced upon him by the elderly women who would gather up all the kids frightened of him and sing and eat cake. When all the kids left, the elderely women didn't even bother to put up a birthday banner.

As usual, he wasn't sad, but content. He threw himself onto his small couch as the doorbell rang. With a sigh, he got up and opened it to find a silver badge into his face.

He lifted an eyebrow and pushed the badge aside. There standing was a man with golden brown hair and a black suit on.

"May I help you?"

"S4 Detective, Park Jungsoo, I need you to come with me."

Donghae stared at the man with a blank face. "Excuse me?" He lifted both of hands as if to push the detective aside when two thick handcuffs were placed on his wrists. "W-what?" The detective pressed a button on the side of the handcuffs and a shield erected, surrounding Donghae's hands.

"Now as I've said. You are coming with me."

The detective dug into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out a tiny marble. He smirked at Donghae.

"Fastest way to get around."

He placed the marble onto the floor, grabbed Donghae by the arm and forcefully tugged him closely.

"Wouldn't want you getting lost." And he crushed the marble, sending their bodies through a portal.

When they landed, Donghae was feeling lightheaded. The heat of the portal and the blood rushing through his body caught up to him and he lost his footing.

The detective noticed it and quickly grabbed his arm pulling him inward as they walked to the wheelchair waiting for him.

"There ya go, easy does it. You'll be fine here, better than where you were." The detective said and took a small needle from his inside pocket and stabbed Donghae in the neck with it.

"Same as you did to me I see." A man appeared from behind the wheelchair. "You were never gentle at all. We're not animals, Leeteuk."

Said man, fixed his suit and brushed the imaginary dirt off of his shoulder as he dug one hand into his pocket. "You're not, but they are."

The man crouched on the side of wheelchair and took Donghae's features in, he whistled and smiled. "He's quite a beauty. Given the others, I presume you've found the right one." The man stood back up, brushing his knees. "I suppose you've seen his eyes right? You didn't just kidnap him like you did Yesung?"

Leeteuk chuckled. "Silvery-blue, like looking into the oceans of Antartica."

The man cocked his eyebrow. "You mean the oceans underneath the thousands of feet of ice."

Leeteuk shrugged and walked behind Donghae, his hands on the wheelchair as he wheeled them to the medical facility. "Depends on where you're looking. Not every inch is covered in ice as they say."

The man placed a gentle hand on Leeteuk, effectively stopping him as he looked him in the eyes. "I hope that stands for someone else."

Leeteuk smiled and within a quick second, he grabbed the man's hand and flipped him onto his back. "It could be, it could be not." He exclaimed and continue forward with Donghae as the man on the ground chuckled and then grunted in pain.

a/n: Oh akes. What have I gone and started? Influenced by Guardians...um...some great fantasy movie.

Chapter 2
Meet Summer

Hyukjae was always the life of the party. The second he entered a room, light would illuminate and reflect off of him like a shining star. Boys worshipped his godly charm and popularity. Girls would swoon at the very sight of him.

His voice was a melody accompanied by a symphony of swirling shades of tranquility. His eyes were an exuberant amethyst that would flicker with specks of red when angered or excited. When saddened, which was rare, became a sullen blue igniting electricity. His hair, each strand vibrantly painted by the sun itself, a fiery red. His skin kissed by the rays which many swore speckled with gold.

He was the eptiome of joy.

Class president, school president, prom king, and head of the yearbook committee. Everything he touched turned to gold, a real-life Midas. His grades were flawless, his uniform iron to perfection, and yet his life still wasn't perfect.

His family was a mess.

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                                                                               7 years ago:

"We cannot keep going back and forth Yunho! It's either her or me. You're ruining this business."

A pat on his head. "Go to school sweetie, we'll talk later." He could still overhear their words pounding against the door.

"No more Seohyun. This marriage has always been for business. Do not act as if you own me."

Gasp!

"How dare you! We have a son together, I thought that-"

"-it changes nothing." Yunho sighed. "Now please, it's been long enough. Sign the papers."

From the tiny peek hole, a young Hyukjae could see the word 'Divorce' printed in bold.

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Within a few months, his parents had divorced, but he remained the same. A striking smile to those around him partnered with etiquette to rival a King. It worked, up until he turned 18. His powers fully blossomed.

He woke up covered in flames. His screams echoed throughout his grand bedroom and when his mother entered frantically, she shrieked. The maids appeared directly after and ran for the fire extinguishers. After the flames had been put out, his mother fainted.

His skin remained flawless.

It immediately became a hush-hush scenario. All maids that were present were forced to sign a contract of silence, that word of his condition would not spread across the town, nor to other maidens and butlers. He remained in school up until his graduation which took place two weeks after his birthday. As soon as he was given his diploma, he vanished.

Their phone numbers were deleted and they moved to Paris, leaving everything behind.

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"Mother I can't just leave! My friends, my existence. It's all here in Korea. I-I can't just up and leave!"

Seohyun could feel the guilt creeping up her spine as her eyes recognized the small change from amethyst to blue.

"It's for your own good. You're-" She took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "-you're not the same anymore. It's dangerous, you've heard about the experiments too."

"I know, but-"

"-nothing. Pack what you can. We leave in 3 hours."

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They left under two and he could feel the anxiety seeping in. Traveling almost 6,000 miles by air wasn't a good thing either. He had traveled hundreds of times all over the world when he was younger, but it didn't feel like that anymore. A burning sensation bubbled in his chest. He closed his hands into tight fists, his nails digging into the flesh as he fought the urge. The urge to release, to let it all go.

When the private jet was struck with turbulence, his hold was fading fast.

A hand quickly covered his fist. "I'm here sweetie, it'll be over soon." He glanced over at her before she pulled her hand away wincing. His eyes reflected concern and worry.

"I'm okay. Deep breaths, Hyukjae."

When they landed, Hyukjae was the first one out. He almost jumped over the stairwell. The second his feet touched the ground he released a sigh of relief.

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For a year they had been living in Paris and it was awful. His strong and ecstastic personality was growing dimmer. His last outburst has caused his permanent isolation within the confines of the mansion.

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"Hey chink, wanna make a bet? 20 a pot, gain 30." The man with yellowed teeth grinned, shaking the dice in his hand.

Hyukjae rolled his eyes. "I'm not Chinese."

The man squinted his eyes and laughed. "You all look the same to me." He tossed the dice into the air.

"You must look the same as your men too then." Hyukjae instinctively caught them, his hidden rage melting the plastic cubes in his hands.

"And you my friend must look the same as a dead man."

That's when he out. The police found him completely . The surrounding area was scorched to bits and the only remains of the man within the alley...were ashes.

The police released him, but his mother locked him up.

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With little-to-no human contact, his fire simmered. His amethyst eyes had fleeted to a weeping blue and even his occassional fiery outbursts dulled in heat and power.

For the sun that grazed upon life, was now a moon reflecting upon an icy lake. 

Months passed, first his birthday (that much he remembered) then his mother's and the holidays strolled by one after another. Over time, the mansion grew quieter and quieter. Eventually there was a stifling silence shattered by the occasional squeaks of a tiny mouse or a cat meowing into the night.

The small food trays filled with days old grub stopped coming, that was how he knew his mother had abandoned him entirely.

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"You're not the same anymore! I can't-I just can't."

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Those were the last words his mother spoke to him. She was terrified of him. He woke up screaming and covered in flames so often that several fire extinguishers were kept in his room. His mood became more voilatile to the point that his body would fire tiny burts of heat capable of singeing anyone in the vacinity.

It wasn't something he could control and the sudden isolation had disrupted his calm mindset. The basement he had been caged up in, was covered in soot. Those were the days he hated most, summertime. The effects of the season proved uncontrollable for his abilities.

Flames would emit from his body and destroy everything in the room. The books he kept hidden underneath his bed for protection, the clothes on his body, his bed, the few posters hung up with inspirational quotes all became a pile of ash.

And at the end of the summer, he was left bare, dirtied and eyes a simmering vermilion. 

A/n: Second chapter about Hyukjae/Eunhyuk same person for this. Next is...*drumroll* Yesung.

Chapter 3
Meet Autumn

Yesung was the odd child in his family. His fascination with death caused his isolation. For him, the world was painted rainbow from Winter to Summer. The colors too bright for his eyes during the summer, too cheerful during Springtime, and too mournful during Winter. But Autumn was always grey. A soothing silence in a field of rushing temperaments.

The leaves would slowly crisp up and everyone would slowly retreat to the warmth of their homes. Yesung was thankful for those moments. It wasn't cold enough for hypothermia, but cool enough to escape the stares of strangers. 

His father was abusive in every sense of the word yet his mother ignored it. His screeches would echo throughout the house as he would try and run from the man. His father would yank at his jet black hair, or kick his leg to knock him down. The worst part was that his mother would stare. She ignored his cries, but she still had the decency to stare as fist after fist pounded against his bruised-and-healing skin. She stared as the gut-wrenching sound of bones snapping filled in the white noise.

The abuse began recently after his powers manifested. As the only child and son, he was treasured and taught to be a respectable man. His family was poor yet they did what they could. A few saved dollars would go to the piano teacher down the road. Any spare change was saved for college.

They loved and doted upon him up until he was 12 years old. Puberty had recently kicked in and various changes occurred. His light brown hair was slowly darkening day by day and there were random cuts seen everyday in his already cheap shirts. It was entirely...odd. By 13 years old, a new habit had formed. Each day he would spend more and more time in the forest near their home. Everyday, he would pick up a leaf, or a dead branch.

By 14 years old, his room became a forest. His hair, jet black and his eyes similar to a vulture's. His shirts were cut up so often that his mother grew tired of sewing them, tired of trying to patch up every slit that revealed their level of poverty. He began going to school with torn shirts and ripped pants. His clothes littered with dirt, twigs sticking out from his head. The other kids found it hilarious and thus the abuse began.

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"Look at little bambi!"

"Are you trying to be a tree? Retard."

They grabbed cups from the cafeteria and used them to pick up dirt. "You're already dirty." Then they would toss it at his face, dirtying him further.

"Go home, head."

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Even the teachers were cruel. They were in disbelief over his appearance and disgusted at the same time.

"Where do they think we have the funding for this? The little comes in covered in filth everyday! He's mentally disabled, I can't teach a challenged kid."

"At gym, all he did was play with the dirt and dried up leaves. Are leaves that ing interesting?"

"He needs help...and a bath."

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At home, letters piled up at the table. Letters calling out his parents for the mistreatment of their child. Letters pressing for his expulsion or that he seek help. Letters that made his parents out to be fools.

His parents were slowly losing their minds over the matter. How could a perfectly perfect child turn out to be a defect? Where did they go wrong? They had to remove him from school at 14 years of age. No matter how many times he bathed that morning, how many times his mother sewed the cuts, and cleaned his room free of dirt and dead things, he always ended up dirtied and his room, a forest.

The anger from her child lacking so much and the disappointment over it led to her depression and her husband's outrage.

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"I can't take it! I can't ing take it! Yesung come here now!"

The boy quickly entered the room. His tiny smile evaporated when he saw his father removing his belt.

"Your mother and I have been talking, well the whole damn school has been talking. Maybe discipline is where we slacked off."

Yesung ran for his life.

"Come here dammit!"

His mother sat watching the entire fiasco from the kitchen stool while smoking a cigarette, her face void of any emotion.

"Gotcha!" His father grabbed his scalp, scratching into the thin layer of skin and he yelped. The belt slashed against his skin unrelentlessly. "I'm saving you Yesung! I'm teaching you about life and it's hardships!"

Tear drops fell against Yesung's heated skin as the father threw the belt to the side and dragged him by his hair. "I'm teaching you" he repeated over and over like a mantra. He threw Yesung into his room and locked the door behind him.

"Do not leave for your own safety. Never leave."

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Yesung never did, not even through his window which was eventually barred. The remaining leaves and branches in his room decayed with time and he watched as the seasons passed. His jet black hair turned a dark red brown and his skin paled. By the time he turned 18, his powers had finished developing.

His room was coated with vines and leaves. They weren't exuberant like the colors of Spring, filled with deep greens and rustic browns. Every individual leaf and every stringy vine, was dead. A single touch and it would crumble into tiny pieces. He was alone in his room, forced to watch the continuous change of seasons. The pain and agony of winter, the overwhelming joy of spring, and the overpowering brightness of summer.

That was, until he arrived directly inside of his cluttered room. When a thorn slit through his dark trousers, the man yelped and fell onto his backside. 

"Well, I never expected that, Yesung." The man dusted himself off and groaned at the tiny painful sensation tingling along his leg. "For such a small cut, it sure brings a lot of pain."

Yesung stood atop of his bed in defense, waiting for a reason to attack the man.

"Your power may be linked to Earth, but it is directly influenced by Autumn, thus the plants you use are already dead. Autumn is the season where all is killed off for Spring to bring rebirth."

The man dug in his coat pocket and flicked his wrist rapidly just as Yesung reacted. Within a second, vines entangled the man and held him upside down while a tiny needle punctured Yesung's neck causing the young man to lose awareness and collapse on top of his bed.

"Dammit!" The man dangled like a hunter's catch. He sighed audibly. "I guess I have to use this..." The man slipped through the vines and flipped himself to fall on his feet. He dusted himself off and hoisted Yesung over his shoulder.

"One down, three to go."

He threw a bead onto the floor and crushed it, sending him through the time portal back to his base.

A/n: There goes Yesung, next is Sungmin and then the story begins!

Chapter 4
Meet Spring

Sungmin is the joy within his orphanage. His skin as delicate as a rose petal, his cheeks a pink camellia. Wherever he went, whomever he met were all instantly captured by his beauty. There was a sense of purity in his words and the owners of the orphanage felt saddened to let him go when he was adopted by a rich couple.

They were the Kims and they were very wealthy. They owned several oil factories and were influential to the public. But Sungmin saw otherwise. The second they looked at him, he knew. There was a darkened aura around them and his skin tingled with fear. He cried and rejected them, but money talks.

$4 million dollars up front and paid in several suitcases filled with $100 bills. He knew that the orphanage desperately needed the money. One of the owners, Kim Kibum had been struck with Cancer just months before, stage 4 the doctors had told him. All of the money they earned, which was barely anything to begin with, was divided between him and the remaining kids who were still somewhat malnourished.

Sungmin oblingingly went along. He had no other choice, although he knew the reason for his adoption. He was already 16 years old, no couple would ever adopt a teenager only two years away from adulthood. They wanted him for his abilities.

At 14 years of age, his powers developed.

When he was younger, he was a sickly child. He couldn't walk, bathe, or eat on his own. The owners had him since he was a baby and painstankingly took care of him. The doctors said he would die by 16. Then suddenly, he woke up one day vivacious and healthy. His pale skin tinged with color and his dull blonde hair sparkled in the sun. When the owners made a return trip to the doctor, they were all confused, but accepted it as a medical miracle.

As the days passed they all realized it was much more than they had initially thought it to be. Kids in the orphanage would get cuts and bruises from playing and one kid even broke his arm. All those that came into contact with Sungmin...were instantly healed. Cuts, bruises, broken limbs, all repaired as if they had never happened. 

But the one thing that was never told to Sungmin was the conversation that had taken place weeks before the Kims arrived.

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"We need the money Kibum! You know Sungmin, he'll accept it. He wants to help us for helping him. We have to do this."

"No Henry! Dammit how could you ever think of such a thing?"

Kibum initially refused the offer, but as his hospital bills increased, he had no other choice.

"Yes, we'll take very, very good care of him."

As the dial tone was heard, Kibum missed the laughter on the other side.

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"It isn't your fault, Sungmin." Coughs filled the air. "There is nothing anyone can do anymore, it's just my time."

"I-I feel useless." Outside, the sun dimmed. "I can heal everything else, but not diseases."

A calming hand upon his shoulder. "You've done all you can."

Kibum died months after Sungmin left. Sungmin was never told of his death as all contact with the orphanage was prohibited. Whenever he tried to retain contact, he was immediately punished. His struggles with the Kims were aparent the minute they took him home. At first, the father, Kim Heechul tried to smooth talk Sungmin into willingly becoming his "lab rat", but Sungmin wasn't having it.

They were trying to steal his joy. He couldn't allow it. But Heechul couldn't allow disobedience. His fist collided with Sungmin's face sending the boy spiraling into the wall. A large bruise formed almost immediately upon the delicate skin yet as Sungmin looked up at Heechul in disbelief, it healed.

"Now let's begin."

Heechul grabbed Sungmin and dragged him to the basement where he conducted his studies.

"Behave now. I paid quite the large amount for you. The least you can do is be thankful."

He threw Sungmin against the wall and closed the leather straps dangling around his ankles, wrist, waist, and neck to ensure that he didn't escape.

"You can do whatever you want, but I will not lose my happiness."

Heechul laughed. "Keep it, it will be the only thing to save your sanity." He began by inserting a 6-inch needle into Sungmin's neck for a sample of blood. Sungmin cried out, but remained smiling at the same time.

Within the next 5 hours, Heechul conducted every possible form of abuse upon Sungmin's pale skin. He used a branding iron with the design of a trifecta to marr his skin. The crinkling sound of burning flesh filled the air and Sungmin's stomach swirled. Heechul carefully sliced different parts of his skin. Some deep, others shallow. The blood dripped down Sungmin's body and dripped onto the floor in tiny puddles.

Then began the personal, physical abuse. Heechul used Sungmin's body as his own punching bag. Each punch fastened with a weak smile. By the end, Sungmin was barely conscious. His mind weaving in and out of existence.

His skin was littered with burn marks, bruises, and cuts yet he still smiled happily. Heechul took another sample of his blood and then watched as Sungmin's body began glowing. Each cut healed one after another, the burns reversed, and the bruises faded back into pale skin. Heechul gathered another sample of blood.

"This may very well be the greatest study. Look at the vials."

Heechul held up all three vials. The first, taken before the abuse was tomato red. The second, taken after the abuse was almost burgundy, and the last, taken directly after healing, glowed.

"You will make me very. very wealthy." Heechul exclaimed and went upstairs. Unbeknowest to him, was who lurked in the shadows. A dark blonde male wearing a suit.

Sungmin's head bobbed as he smiled happily at the man. His body had healed, but the mind was a separate entity which took longer.

"Sorry for the delay. I have my reasons for not wanting to be seen."

He dug inside of his coat's pocket and pulled out a small swiss army knife. "It looks tiny, but trust me that it cuts." Sure enough it did and Sungmin's body fell right onto the man.

"Aren't you a smiley one? I'm guessing it's Springtime."

He hoisted Sungmin over his shoulder and pulled out a tiny bead. "All 3, almost done." And he stepped on it, sending them back to his base.

 

Chapter 5: Meet Leeteuk