“Let's burn it, my past self. It would burn again to the deepest pits below, to the very last. Set fire to it, more fire to it, wonder what will remain thereafter?”

August D, Burn It

“You should have seen Viscount Kim’s face when I did the test,” I commented airily, stepping over a log in the path, “I think I’m starting to get the hang of this whole studying thing.”

Yoongi ducked under a low branch. “I think he was more confused by the lack of a hangover,” he said,, “I doubt it’s your intelligence he’s impressed by; he’s underestimated you far too many times to underestimate you again.”

“He’s still not letting me win him during training, though.”

“That’s because it’s his favorite sport. He can’t lose it.”

I paused, turning to him. “You know, there’s something I don’t get.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “And what’s that?”

“Why did he not resist me when I first came here? When I put my brother’s sword against his neck? He could have easily killed me with it?”

That was something I could never wrap my head around. Before, Viscount Kim struck me as a whining simpleton who demanded that everyone listened to him.

Sure, he had the good looks and the build of a guard, but his ridiculous high voice and complaints were not enough to compensate for it.

Until I got to be his student, he was as interesting to me as a fly on the wall.

“Eunji?”

I blinked out of my reverie, catching up to him as he continued walking. “Hmm?”

“I said it’s because he was pretending,” he told me, “And also, what person would kill an intruder, what more a girl?”

“I would.”

He had the audacity to scoff. “No, you wouldn’t. Killing isn’t all fun and games.”

“Spoken as if you’ve left these walls and hunted down men for sport.”

He scowled at me, annoyed. “I knew someone who had to live through a war.”

I waited expectantly.

He didn’t elaborate.

It was my turn to scowl. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He let out a chuckle, bumping my shoulder just enough to send me reeling a couple of steps. “I just know someone who had to live through a lot of slaughtering, that’s all.”

Then, as an afterthought, he added, “I mean, I knew someone.”

“That person died?”

“Some time ago,” he said quietly, “I cared for him very much.”

We walked in silence.

I pressed my lips together, watching him. “You know, in my village,” I began nervously, “It was widely speculated that tone of the farmer’s sons preferred having male companions to female-”

Yoongi’s head swivelled to look at me with an expression so gobsmacked, I almost laughed. “Eunji, for heaven’s sake!”

I backed a little, holding my hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, if you prefer having male companions too, I won’t hate you for it!” I protested, “I’m not going to think of you differently or anything.”

“You. Are. Insufferable.”

“But you like that,” I added with a smug smile.

He rolled his eyes. “I won’t speak with you of anything until we reach the peak of the mountains.”

“And what are you going to do in the meantime, what with your tendency to always go back on your words?” I asked sweetly.

He smirked back. “I’ll just admire the view,” he told me, as I heard the sound of rushing water. He pointed ahead, and I followed the direction of his finger as he pointed to something in the distance.

I squinted through the trees, letting out a gasp. “No,” I breathed, looking at him excitedly, “Is that?”

He nodded.

“Can I?”

“Be my guest.”

I beamed, scurrying ahead, pushing branches to the side as I wove through the path, the gushing sound getting louder and louder as I ran across the forest floor, hopping over boulders.

I stopped right at the edge, my heart soaring at the sight of the majestic waterfall, towering over me. Water crashed onto the enormous rocks, casting misty droplets onto my face, before stilling near the banks near my feet.

I had never seen a waterfall before. Heard of it, yes, but I never thought I would stand before one.

Heavens, I might actually cry.

I hurriedly swiped at my eyes, letting out a shaky breath before I realized Yoongi was at the side, watching me with a faint smile. He shook his head to himself, and I stuck out a tongue at him.

Crouching close to the clear water, my hand paused before it plunged in.

A shiver erupted across my skin. “It’s cold!” I cried, letting out a laugh, making sure I held my sleeve before my hand dipped underwater again, “It’s so cold and clear and clean!”

I cupped my hands and brought the water to my lips, feeling a chill down my throat and right to my belly. “It’s delicious too!” I said, taking some more and splashing it into the air, “The river behind my village is so different.”

“That’s because it has travelled long to reach your village,” Yoongi said from his spot. He had taken off the wooden bag filled with our food and had perched on a large log, “The water comes from here, and this waterfall comes from the mountain.”

My sleeves were wet now, but I didn’t care. I cupped more water, pressing them to my skin, shuddering at the icy contact. I felt refreshed.

If Hoseok were here, he’d be pristine after a good bath.

“We can stay here for some time before we head up,” Yoongi said, as I continued to marvel at the water, “It will be cold up there, so don’t wet your sleeves too much.”

I glanced at him. “Too late,” I said with a grin, splashing my face again with a laugh. “All right, let’s go. Before I decide to jump in for a swim.”

“You didn’t bring a change of clothes did you?”

“I would have if you had mentioned we were going to pass by a waterfall,” I said grumpily, as we began to continue on our way, “Or did you forget that I might not have seen the sights you have?”

He looked sincerely apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing. We’ll come back here again,” I said, gazing at the waterfall longingly, as we continued our hike.

Yoongi glanced over at his companion, who was stubbornly refusing his help as she climbed up the rock. At her insistence, he was in front of her as they trekked up the rocky terrain, and he suspected it was because she didn’t want to slow them down.

He had deliberately taken some time ahead, but in this form, it was easier to move rock to rock. His stamina was good, his balance even better, and Eunji was breathlessly trying to push herself up, refusing his offers to carry her as she told him to focus on himself.

How could he, when she herself was wiping sweat from her brow every now and then, her face red from the effort?

“We’re almost there,” he told her, as she nodded soundlessly, “If you give me your hand, I could hoist you up for the last rock. It gets quite slippery.”

She let out a huff. “If you think… that I’ll give up...right before the end...you’re wrong,” she panted.

He rolled his eyes, but his heart swelled with admiration. If there was one thing Eunji was, it was a fighter through and through, and there was no question about it.

He watched her as she looked up at the mountain with that fiercely determined expression, feeling a flutter inside of him as she grabbed onto the next rock, pulling herself up. And the next, and the next, until they only had the last one.

He leapt up gracefully, before looking down. “Careful,” he said, ironically, when his foot slipped off the rock. For a moment, he felt his body skid off the mossy rock and he panicked, scrambling to grip the sides of the large boulder for dear life.

One wrong slip could mean him falling. To be sure, it was a short distance, but it was on a bunch of rocks, and he wasn’t sure if his beastly form could resist a broken bone. Or two.

All he could hear was Eunji’s laughter, and he glowered at her. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”

She finished climbing, reaching the peak as she dusted off her dusty hanbok. “Of course,” she said, plopping on the boulder he had just slipped from. “How about you worry about your own self instead?”

He grumbled, walking away from her.

“Aww, look, you’re all embarrassed now. Are you sulking again?” she called, her laughter echoing against the emptiness, “Come, come, now, Yoongi. Surely you’re not going to sit and pout in silence? There’s nobody else here for miles.”

He took off the basket swung over his back, and opened it, taking out the mat, proceeding to busy himself with setting up their picnic while she sauntered over.

“The air is so clear up here,” she drawled, sitting next to him, “And so misty. Are these the clouds you were mentioning? It’s so beautiful.”

He ignored her.

She watched him lay out the food, propping her head on her hands as she lay down on her stomach, her feet swinging behind her as she sang his name over and over again. “Yoongiiiiiiiiii.”

Under normal circumstances, this would have either annoyed him, or sent little nervous butterflies in his stomach, but right now wasn’t really a good time to be teased.

His basket was empty now, and he shut it and put it at the side.

“Oh, Yoongi, you little wet cat, are you really going to ignore me now?” she asked innocently.

“Stop it. You’re not cute,” he said in a clipping tone.

That seemed to make her grin wider. “You think I’m cute?”

He made the mistake of looking at her, and his cheeks flamed when she burst into laughter.

“You’re the one that’s cute,” she said, reaching for a piece of bread.

He reached out, smacking her hand and making her drop it back in the rattan bowl. “You haven’t washed them yet,” he chastised, giving her a bowl of water to dip her hands in.

She made a face but heeded his words before biting into the bread happily. “Delicious,” she hummed, her eyes still twinkling mischievously at him.

He sighed. “You won’t let me live this down, will you?”

“Absolutely not! The whole palace will know of your chivalry when we return.”

“I should devour you right here then.”

She shrugged. “So be it. I’ll have you know that my meat is tough, and my bones are worse for the wear,” she replied airily, “My father trained me well. I don’t think there’s any bone that’s not broken yet.”

“Eunji.”

She stilled at the sound in his voice, looking up curiously. “Hmm?”

“What exactly did your father train you well in?”

She bit into the bread. “What do you mean?”

He knew when she was pretending to sound lighthearted and when she was not.

He leaned forwards. “Did he make you hurt yourself? Is that why you have a lot of broken bones?”

She cleared . “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, eyes flitting away from him.

“I think you do.”

“All I know is that I’m a seasoned thief, acrobat, and actress.”

“So tell me, how did your father train you to be such a multi talented genius?”

“You don’t see me asking about your father,” she shot back, and although it was meant to be a playful jab, an effort to divert his attention from her, he pushed on.

“I believe if I could, you’d have known already.”

She scoffed. “Not like I’d want to,” she dismissed him, “Besides, why would you want to know so much about me?”

Jung Euji, you vex me so.

“I just want to understand you. All of you. Not just the parts that you are proud of: your victories over men you fooled, your earnings from each day, or your stories,” he told her, “But the parts you seek to hold back from the world: your defeats, or your moments of solitude where you wish you were better than your brothers. I want to know them too.”

She stilled. “I didn’t tell you I wanted to be better than my brothers.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You muttered it when I was bringing you back to your room.

“What good does that bring?” she challenged him, “Why would you even want to hear about my weaknesses?”

Are you daft? “A person is more than just their weaknesses. That is what makes us human.”

Her gaze flew up to his, momentarily stunned. Her eyebrows furrowed together, bewilderment filling her features.

“You’re far more human than I had initially imagined you to be,” she said to him, “You might even be far more of a person than the majority of the stupid ones in my village.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She looked away. “It’s just…I grew up trying to run away from my shortcomings,” she mused, “It puts me at a disadvantage, and I hate that feeling. No one cares about a girl with imperfections.”

He wanted to slap some sense into her. “Believe it or not, I do care for you, Eunji,” he blurted, before adding hastily, “Like...like how you care for your brothers.”

Sometimes, I wish I could kick myself.

She remained silent, her eyes like wide moons. “But why? You barely know me.”

He felt a subtle twinge of hurt. “Are we not friends now?”

“Even friends can turn into the worst of enemies,” she said quietly, staring at him, “I can only trust my brothers.”

Yoongi felt something tug at his heart, seeing her so guarded. “Whoever has hurt you, Eunji, has done a really great job of making you distrust anyone you meet.”

“Trust is not easily returned. That much I learned. Although I think Jimin and Jungkook have yet to have it ingrained in their skulls.”

“You’ve been there for them, but tell me this: has anyone ever been there for you?”

“Of course! There’s Hoseok,” she trailed off, “He listens to me. Well, argues, mostly.”

“And you talk to him, the way you talk to me?”

She blinked. “Well, yes. Or, no, not really. I mean, for one thing, why should I tell him my stories, if he’s in the stories too? That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“And what of other things, your dreams of leaving the village and going to live near the Capital-”

She let out another scoff. “Obviously not, are you mad?”

“And why is that?”

She inhaled, a gesture that made her whole body shudder. “He says I live in a delusional fantasy of Father’s promises,” she replied softly. “A place where I give the world to others but only receive rice grains in return. He said it’s my biggest downfall.”

“Because of your father.”

Her eyes flashed warningly. “He loves me.”

“We hurt the people we love,” he said as gently as he could.

“I suppose I’ve...never thought of it that way,” she murmured, “I always thought I just had to work harder...to be deserving.”

She put down her bread at that, and he was almost certain she was going to drop the subject and chide him for having his own secrets, but then she pulled up her sleeve.

He looked down, watching a long scar snaking up her forearm, before propriety forced him to look up into her eyes.

She covered her arm, adjusting her sleeve, before taking her bread and stuffed it into . “As children, Father would punish us if we got caught by the noblemen, or if we didn’t succeed,” she said, sounding hollow, “Since we were already starving at the time, he would lock us out of the house during the winters, or shut us in the wells in the hot summers. When we were older, it was different. Dull blades, bamboo poles, a punch of two...it was motivation enough to keep perfecting our skills.”

He in a gasp.

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