According to everyone else, Jongdae would never make it far in life.

In a world where people were born with an affinity for magic, it became an expectation that everyone would be able to fully control their power by the time they hit fifteen years old. After fifteen, anyone who still accidentally hurt themselves or others with their power was considered immature at best and defective at worst, and unfortunately, Jongdae ended up with the worst.

It was a harsh transition for him, going from living with his parents and helping with chores to suddenly having to take care of himself in all aspects. There were several times where Jongdae thought that he was going to die for sure, but he somehow managed to pull through, even though his hands always stung painfully in the aftermath of using his lightning.

The agony had been horrible to deal with back when Jongdae was still a kid since none of the methods his parents tried could alleviate the sensation of being stung by hundreds of scorpions. The cool water soak that worked on his brother only made the stinging worse for Jongdae, and the salve that helped his parents when they were young had absolutely no effect on Jongdae whatsoever. However, after his parents had abandoned him to fend for himself, Jongdae made the lucky discovery that holding his hands up in the air soothed the pain a little. Therefore, Jongdae took the time to fashion a flimsy contraption out of sticks that he could use to keep his hands elevated while he slept. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Jongdae to take a sleeping potion, sleep through the worst of the stinging, and wake up to numb prickling and heat coursing through his hands.

For a few years, Jongdae managed to avoid using his lightning and thus, the painful consequences as well, but of course, his luck was bound to run out sometime, leaving him to stumble home just to find that the herbs that he needed for his sleeping potion had long since lost their potency. Thus, he had no choice but to force himself to run back outside and into the forest in search of the plant.

White lines shaped like lightning bolts decorated his hands and wrists, swollen and tender as Jongdae brushed aside patches of foliage in search of the herbs. He hissed when a particularly stubborn branch jabbed him in the palm and snatched his hand away to nurse it against his chest.

The short walk to the patch of herbs seemed to take forever, and picking the herbs sent fire coursing through his fingers. Jongdae gritted his teeth and bore the pain, swiftly pinching the stems of the plants so he could get this over with and go home before the dying rays of the sun faded completely.

In the dimming light, Jongdae continued to gather the herbs he needed, humming to himself to distract himself from the agony in his hands. However, after a few long minutes, Jongdae paused and straightened up, clutching the herbs in one hand as he scanned the surroundings with furrowed brows.

Was it just him, or was the place getting brighter?

Realizing that the light was coming from the sky, Jongdae raised his head just in time for a searing brightness to stab him in the eyes. Jongdae only managed to catch a glimpse of a dark figure in the beam of light before he was shielding his face with his arms and squeezing his eyes shut. He heard a loud splash as something fell into the lake nearby. Then, the blinding light was fading, and Jongdae was blinking his eyes open, trying to get rid of the white spots dancing across his vision.

When the aching of his eyes finally stopped, Jongdae peered out at the rippling water. He could see something round and white bobbing around on the surface and realized that it was a person’s head. As Jongdae squinted at the person, he noticed that whoever it was didn’t seem to be in any hurry to swim to shore…or perhaps they couldn’t swim.

“Hey!” Jongdae called, stepping forward until he was at the edge of the water. He waved his arms above his head, trying to make sure the person could see him. “Hey, are you okay?”

The person in the water slowly spun around to look at him but didn’t answer. Not willing to waste another second, Jongdae dropped the herbs he had picked and slipped into the cold, dark water, swimming towards the person with smooth, powerful .

“Are you okay?” Jongdae repeated once he was only a couple feet away. The other person – a young man, Jongdae realized – blinked, looking at Jongdae with some sort of dazed tranquility as he nodded in response. Jongdae, on the other hand, let his gaze wander to the young man’s wet hair and blue eyes, and he couldn’t help but gawk in astonishment.

Jongdae had heard the tales when he was a child. He listened with rapt attention as his mother recited stories of living stars that danced in the skies, leaving behind trails of dust that curled and shone in beautiful streaks. Occasionally, a star would fall to the earth and live amongst the humans, standing out only through hair as white as the clouds they hid behind and eyes as blue as the sky they fell from. Anyone who was around to witness the moment the star hit the ground was considered blessed. Once upon a time, Jongdae fantasized about being lucky enough to see a star fall to the earth, but when his lightning magic proved to be problematic and a target for disdain, he gave up that comforting dream to face the harsh reality of life.

Yet, here he was, facing a fallen star in the middle of a lake, struggling to find words. The star’s expression had changed from calm confusion to reserved curiosity as he eyed Jongdae like he was wondering why Jongdae was here.

Finally, Jongdae started babbling, hoping to dissipate the awkwardness. “Are you hurt? That looked like a bad fall. That was a loud splash! I hope you’re not injured from it…oh, but let’s get out of the water first!”

Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the other, pulling the fallen star with him as he splashed his way back to the edge of the water. The entire time, the fallen star didn’t say anything or even fight against Jongdae’s hold, and Jongdae didn’t know if he should be relieved or worried.

Even after they had crawled out of the water, the fallen star still didn’t say anything, so Jongdae took the initiative to try and spark a conversation.

“I’m Jongdae, by the way,” Jongdae said as he spat water out of his mouth. “What’s your name?”

“Baëkhyun,” the fallen star said. There was an accent to the name that Jongdae had never heard before but found refreshing.

Jongdae blinked the water out of his eyes and brushed his wet bangs out of his face. “Baëkhyun,” he repeated, “You’re…a fallen star, right? Do you need help getting back up to the sky?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Baëkhyun responded, tone as dull as an undisturbed layer of snow. Water dripped from his hair and down his face, but he didn’t seem to care. “I won’t be going back.”

“Oh,” Jongdae said, voice growing tight as he remembered the agony currently coursing through his hands, “Then what are you plan–?”

“Why are you making that face?” Baëkhyun interrupted, staring at him.

Jongdae faltered before he realized that he must have been making a pained expression. “My hands are hurting. They always hurt after I use my lightning magic,” he explained.

Baëkhyun didn’t answer to that, and for what felt like an eternity, Jongdae stood there, wringing the water out of his clothes and picking up the herbs he had dropped as he waited for Baëkhyun to say or do something. However, when it was clear that Baëkhyun had no plans whatsoever, Jongdae sighed. Even though Baëkhyun was a stranger and was awkward to communicate with, the thought of leaving Baëkhyun alone in the dark made Jongdae uneasy.

“Okay, how about this,” Jongdae suggested, hoping he wouldn’t regret the offer he was about to make. “You can stay with me, but you have to do your share of the work. That includes chopping firewood, growing herbs, hunting, cleaning, cooking, and anything else that needs to be done around the house. Is that fair to you?”

Baëkhyun agreed to those terms easily enough, but Jongdae still remained on guard for the next few days, unsure if Baëkhyun would keep his word. Therefore, Jongdae was pleasantly surprised when Baëkhyun completed his chores without complaint. There were definitely a few moments where Jongdae had to step in and teach Baëkhyun how to do something, but he never had to remind Baëkhyun of a task nor did Baëkhyun ever try to slack off and pass a chore onto Jongdae. All in all, Baëkhyun was very well behaved, and the only time he ever gave Jongdae any trouble was when he tried to cook.

One thing about Baëkhyun didn’t settle well with Jongdae, and that was how their conversations went. While Baëkhyun never showed any sign of not wanting to talk or spoke poorly towards Jongdae, an air of indifference radiated from Baëkhyun whenever the two of them conversed. It hung between them like invisible spiderwebs, clinging to Jongdae and making him shuffle awkwardly as Baëkhyun gazed at him with empty blue eyes. Even after their conversation was over, the strands of the web followed Jongdae as he bustled around his house and tried to dispel the lingering discomfort.

Sometimes, Jongdae got the feeling that Baëkhyun didn’t care for living. When the other wasn’t looking, Jongdae observed some of Baëkhyun’s mannerisms and habits and realized that Baëkhyun reminded him of a log floating in still waters. Like the log, Baëkhyun drifted aimlessly, letting an occasional ripple push him in some arbitrary path, and never tried to move in a direction that he wanted to move in.

In the end, it didn’t inconvenience Jongdae, and he felt like it would be presumptuous for him to pry, so Jongdae never brought it up with Baëkhyun. The two of them continued to live under the same roof, maintaining a relationship of cool politeness on opposite sides of an invisible barrier.

Aside from Baëkhyun’s detachedness, Jongdae also noticed that Baëkhyun had a propensity of staying outside until it grew dark. It worried Jongdae, seeing that Baëkhyun didn’t have a candle or a lamp with him, until one day, Jongdae caught sight of something glowing through the trees. When he went out to investigate, he met Baëkhyun as the latter was returning from an excursion in the woods. The soft glow coming from Baëkhyun bathed the area around them in a gentle light, and for a moment, Jongdae could only stare in awe.

“Are you heading out?”

Jongdae tore his attention away from the brilliance, forcing himself to focus on Baëkhyun’s face. “Ah, I was going to look for you. It’s dark, and I thought you didn’t have a light, so…” He trailed off since the rest was self-explanatory and gestured at Baëkhyun. “Is that your light power?”

Baëkhyun glanced down at himself. “Yes.” He stepped closer, and to Jongdae’s disappointment, the light emanating from Baëkhyun’s body began to dim. “Shall we head back?”

Jongdae nodded, and the two of them fell into step with each other. Jongdae already missed Baëkhyun’s light, preferring its brightness over the dimmer orange that his lamp cast. “I wish I could summon light whenever I wanted. It would make it easier to travel through the woods at night.” He paused, having just realized something, and turned to look at Baëkhyun. “Wait, have you just been walking through the woods with your light? What were you going to do if something saw you and attacked?”

“My light can hurt if I want it to,” Baëkhyun replied, unfazed in the face of Jongdae’s worry. “I also have fast reflexes, so I doubt anything will be catching me off guard.”

Jongdae blinked and dropped his gaze to Baëkhyun’s torso and legs, trying to see if he could spot any hint of muscle through the fabric. The way Baëkhyun spoke so nonchalantly made Jongdae wonder if Baëkhyun had experience with fighting, and someone who knew how to fight would have muscles to show for it.

“Are you looking for something?” Baëkhyun asked.

Jongdae snapped his head up and faced the beaten path. “Nothing.”

Aside from the muscles that showed around Baëkhyun’s shoulders, Jongdae couldn’t see anything else. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Luckily, Baëkhyun didn’t press the issue, and the two continued to walk in silence. As they neared the door of Jongdae’s house, Jongdae said, “Ah, right. I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the village with me tomorrow?”

“The village? Why?”

“I’m running low on some herbs, and those don’t grow in the forest. I need to visit the apothecary in the village to get them,” Jongdae explained.

Baëkhyun let out a thoughtful hum. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

Jongdae beamed. “Great! We’ll leave after noon tomorrow.”

Sure enough, while there was still some light left, Jongdae and Baëkhyun packed a bag and set out for the village. Jongdae gripped the bag tightly as they walked, hoping that Baëkhyun wouldn’t notice the trembling of his hands. His throat was dry, his stomach churned relentlessly, and no amount of self-assurances could chase away the lingering ghosts of loathing that the villagers spat at Jongdae every time he entered the village. This time, however, it was worse. This time, he had Baëkhyun with him.

He was tempted to ask Baëkhyun to turn back, but that would summon questions that Jongdae felt embarrassed to talk about. Besides, as he watched Baëkhyun walk down the trail and turn a curious gaze on their surroundings, Jongdae didn’t think that Baëkhyun would agree to head back, and Jongdae didn’t have the power to force him.

Over the course of several years, Jongdae and the villagers had established a routine. The moment the nearest person spotted Jongdae entering the village, they would stop and stare in soundless disdain. The people next to them would notice and fall silent as well when they saw Jongdae, and like ripples on the surface of a lake, the thick silence would spread to the rest of the village until everyone knew he was here.

In the meantime, Jongdae would duck his head and hurry along his way.

However, Baëkhyun changed the routine. This time, as Jongdae walked through the streets, he could sense that he wasn’t the only one receiving stares from the people. Instead of silence, whispers hung in the air, some loud enough for Jongdae to overhear.

“He brought someone with him this time.”

“Why is his hair white?”

“He dresses strangely. Is he a foreigner?”

Jongdae peeked at Baëkhyun from the corner of his eyes. He could tell that Baëkhyun had already noticed the strange atmosphere. The other was glancing around at the villagers, occasionally turning to look behind them as one of his hands fidgeted with some unseen object at his waist.

“Is he a fallen star?”

“No way. A fallen star wouldn’t be with someone like him.”

Jongdae picked up the pace a little, wanting to get out of the public eye as soon as he could. To his relief, Baëkhyun stayed right by his side, keeping pace without any sign that he wanted to pester Jongdae with questions.

The weight pressing down on Jongdae’s shoulders lightened when the apothecary came into view. The bell inside jingled as Jongdae pulled open the door and gestured for Baëkhyun to go in first. He followed him inside, and the familiar sound of a crackling fire and a deep, booming voice greeted him.

“Jongdae, you’re here! And you brought a friend!”

Jongdae smiled as a man with a toothy smile approached, arms open wide for a hug. “Hi, Chanyeol,” he returned, letting himself be engulfed in Chanyeol’s embrace. “This is Baëkhyun.”

Chanyeol released him and looked at Baëkhyun, who gave him a polite nod. Chanyeol copied the motion before turning back to Jongdae.

“Are you here for the usual?” Chanyeol asked, somehow sounding excited as though this was the first time he was selling something to a customer. “Kyungsoo already put your stuff together. He should be back any mo–”

Jongdae heard something clatter, and then a black cat came slinking out from behind the shelves, offering Jongdae a slow blink in greeting.

“This is Kyungsoo,” Jongdae explained to Baëkhyun, “He is a shapeshifter.”

Once again, Baëkhyun nodded in greeting. Kyungsoo roughly meowed a ‘hello’ back before disappearing back between the shelves. This time, when he came back, he carried a small package in his teeth, which he gave to Jongdae.

“We put in some extra honeysuckle for you this time,” Chanyeol said as he stowed away the coins that Jongdae passed him. “Also, we sold the feverfew and valerian roots that you gave us last time. Here’s the money.” He plucked out a small, yellowish pouch and handed it to Jongdae.

“Oh, really? That’s great!” Jongdae exclaimed, testing the pouch’s weight and finding it pleasing, “Let me pay you for the extra honeysuckle though.”

“No need,” Chanyeol insisted, “Consider it a gift from your friends.”

Once Chanyeol put it that way, Jongdae could only quietly accept the honeysuckle. Feeling the anxiety ease a little, Jongdae happily waved goodbye to Kyungsoo with a smile as Chanyeol opened the door for him and Baëkhyun. However, the smile disappeared from his face the moment he stepped out of Chanyeol’s apothecary and back out onto the street.

While Jongdae and Baëkhyun had been in the apothecary, a group of villagers had gathered outside. A wrinkled man with a staff stood hunched in the center, glowering at them from beneath sparse, white eyebrows. Jongdae had seen the old man around before and recognized him to be a storyteller residing in the village.

“So it’s true,” the storyteller croaked, squinting at Jongdae and then Baëkhyun. “The defective boy found himself a fallen star.”

Jongdae should have been used to it, but a wave of shame still heated his face and neck.

The crowd continued to watch with judgment. Behind Jongdae, Chanyeol shifted his weight.

Then, somebody spat at Jongdae’s feet. The villager, a man named Youngmin who had a rather hateful disposition in general, glared at Jongdae with lips curled in contempt. “I don’t know what you did, but there’s no way someone like you could have gotten a fallen star.”

“Actually,” the storyteller murmured, “it is not so impossible.”

Youngmin snarled at the storyteller and gnashed his teeth. “What makes you say that?”

One corner of the storyteller’s mouth twitched. “You are all obsessed with fallen stars, but you do not know how they come to fall.”

The storyteller was right. The childhood stories never talked about why a star would fall because nobody knew or wanted to know, content with blindly worshipping a rare being as a treasure without understanding its origin.

“Stars fall when the heavens no longer want them,” the storyteller continued, “When they commit a crime so grave that their fellow stars cannot find it within themselves to forgive. Fallen stars are the murderers and traitors of the sky, and you all covet them as if they were gods!”

Heat rushed through Jongdae, calling forth the sound of his heartbeats until he could hear the rhythmic thumping over the rushing of blood in his ears. His hands trembled as they curled into fists, and he took a step forward, ready to defend Baëkhyun.

Youngmin got there first. “And how would you know that?” he asked the storyteller.

The storyteller gripped his cane. “I have traveled to many places and met quite a few fallen stars when I was younger. I have heard their stories, and all of them spoke of being cast down after becoming a criminal in the sky!”

Confused murmurs swept through the crowd. At the back, a few men ushered their wives and children away, casting suspicious looks at Baëkhyun as they hurried past the group. On the other hand, some people looked doubtful, stubbornly clinging to their old beliefs while the rest looked uncertain.

“You bastard!” Jongdae shouted above the commotion. His anger twisted and coiled inside him, burning so harshly that Jongdae didn’t notice the tingling sensation crawling through his hands. “What are you trying to do, defame–”

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol started to say, but the storyteller interrupted him.

“I hardly think a boy who can’t even use magic properly would have any important to add.”

Crackling erupted around Jongdae as lightning burst from his hands. Piercing screams followed as a few people standing close to him scrambled away from the static. Upon hearing the pained cries, Jongdae hurried to squash his lightning, horrified with his lapse in control. Unfortunately, the damage was done, and the people were now staring at him as though they were about to stone him to death. Jongdae felt his stomach drop.

Then, the burning began. Jongdae abandoned his fear in favor of gasping in pain, doubling over with his hands cradled to his chest. Tears welled up in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. Around him, the silhouettes of the villagers loomed over his hunched form, eyes speaking of the cruelty they were eager to unleash.

In the past, despite all the dislike and contempt the villagers showed him, Jongdae had never felt afraid for his life. Now, he wished that he had the strength to ignore his pain so he could run for his life.

Suddenly, Baëkhyun’s hand was wrapped around his. Jongdae let out a small whimper of pain as the inflammation in his hands flared in protest, but Baëkhyun gave no sign that he had heard as he turned and shoved his way through the crowd, pulling Jongdae along with him. The people parted, watching them leave with silent, hateful eyes.

As they walked back the way they came, Jongdae’s hands pulsated with heat and agony. He wanted to ask Baëkhyun to let go, but the other hadn’t said a word since they left Chanyeol’s apothecary and Jongdae didn’t know if Baëkhyun was angry or how to approach him if he was.

The sky started to grow dark as they hurried through the woods, so halfway back to the house, Baëkhyun began to glow, lighting up the path home.

Having grown up with people telling him that nothing could be done about the painful side effects of using his powers, Jongdae had stopped searching for a way to mitigate or cure the inflammation in his hands. Therefore, when he realized that his right hand had stopped throbbing and had returned to its normal color, he was shocked speechless until they entered the house and Baëkhyun released his hand.

The pain began to return almost immediately, so Jongdae decided to be shameless for once and grabbed Baëkhyun’s hand with both of his. “Wait!”

Baëkhyun jumped and stared at Jongdae with wide eyes, looking like a startled cat.

“Keep glowing!” Jongdae practically begged, clutching Baëkhyun’s hand like a lifeline, “Keep glowing, please!”

Baëkhyun was still perplexed but obeyed without question, letting Jongdae hold his hand like it was gold and even going so far as to tentatively offer Jongdae his other hand. For a while, the two of them stood in the room, silently holding hands. Eventually, Baëkhyun cleared his throat and asked, “Does my light help with the pain?”

Now that the agony was fading, Jongdae felt the embarrassment heating his cheeks. “It does,” he said, “Sorry to grab you like this. I just–”

The words died in his throat as Baëkhyun began massaging the palms of Jongdae’s hands. It was a strange experience for Jongdae. It had been years since someone last touched him so gently, and Jongdae had long since forgotten how it felt to be treated with such care, how it felt to have someone else’s skin caressing his. The sight of Baëkhyun rubbing the glowing pads of his thumbs over Jongdae’s skin took Jongdae’s breath away, and Jongdae had to struggle for a long time to get it back.

Once he got over the surprise, Jongdae coughed and said, “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable when I grabbed your hands. I should have asked if it was okay with you first.”

“It’s no problem,” Baëkhyun murmured, “My family is very touchy.”

This was the first time Baëkhyun ever mentioned anything about his life in the sky, so Jongdae couldn’t help feeling curious. However, he refrained from questioning Baëkhyun, unsure if the other wanted to talk about his life before he became a fallen star.

In the end, Jongdae didn’t have to ask because Baëkhyun started talking himself. “The storyteller…isn't wrong.”

Jongdae waited, but it seemed as though Baëkhyun wanted a response from him, so he said, “What do you mean?”

“I’ve killed other stars,” Baëkhyun admitted, refusing to look Jongdae in the eye as he continued to massage Jongdae’s hands. “That’s why I’m a fallen star. My brother is a political figure in the sky, and there were a few stars who disagreed with his ideas and wanted him gone, so I killed them before they could kill him.”

“Oh,” Jongdae said, not knowing what else to say. “Is your brother safe now?”

Baëkhyun paused, and his shoulders slumped a little. Jongdae didn’t know if it was out of relief or disappointment. “He should be.”

Jongdae shifted his weight. “Are you angry?”

Baëkhyun sighed, “No, I’m not. Do your hands still hurt?”

Jongdae withdrew his hands, flexing his fingers experimentally. To his relief, the pain didn’t come back, and he was ecstatic that he could finally get a good night’s sleep without having to rely on a sleeping potion.

Baëkhyun watched him celebrate, sliding the bag off his shoulders. “You can head to bed first. I’ll sort the herbs and then go to sleep, too.”

“Are you sure?” Jongdae asked, “I can help you, and we can finish it twice as fast.”

Baëkhyun shook his head. “I’ll be fine. It won’t take long anyway. You sleep first.”

Jongdae relented, slipping away to the bedroom. He didn’t fall asleep right away and instead laid in bed thinking about what Baëkhyun had told him. He was a little surprised at how unbothered he was with Baëkhyun’s status as a murderer but figured that that was because Baëkhyun had committed a crime to protect his brother. After all, Jongdae believed that killing to protect a loved one was different from killing for one’s own entertainment. Now that Jongdae knew this fact about Baëkhyun, their relationship – which used to feel like strangers living under the same roof – had become somewhat warmer. Satisfied with this progression, Jongdae fell asleep and didn’t hear Baëkhyun leaving the house.

With his light to guide him, Baëkhyun hurried through the trees, leaves crunching under his feet as he retraced the path back to the village. In contrast to the streets during the day, the streets at night were empty with only the occasional drunkard stumbling past the houses. Too inebriated to be aware of their surroundings, the drunkards kept to themselves, and Baëkhyun didn’t bother them. Instead, Baëkhyun stopped in front of a larger building, pausing briefly outside the front door to listen to the voices murmuring within before he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The few occupants inside turned to stare, and Baëkhyun stared back, gaze focused on the surprised expression of the storyteller. Ignoring the others, Baëkhyun stalked forward and took a seat across from the storyteller. “It’s been a while. I didn’t expect to see you here playing storyteller.”

The storyteller looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cast out of the sky for attempting to overthrow the king and for spreading slanderous lies about the princes.” Baëkhyun leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. “Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical for you to speak badly of fallen stars when you are one, too, Yook Hyunwoo?”

The storyteller’s head whipped around, and he glared at Baëkhyun with wide eyes and quivering jowls. He opened his mouth to say something, but Baëkhyun cut him off. “Don’t try to deny it, Hyunwoo. I am very familiar with your light techniques, and an illusion of this level cannot fool me.”

Unable to challenge Baëkhyun’s words, Hyunwoo could only tremble. “What do you want?” he ground out.

Baëkhyun lowered his chin, fixing Hyunwoo with a glower that rivaled that of an angry tiger. “Don’t ever speak to Jongdae like that again,” he warned, “I cannot guarantee that you’ll escape with your life if you do.”

Hyunwoo spluttered in indignance, “You…this…wha–” he stopped and his lips. “Are you threatening me, Byun Baëkhyun? You dare threaten me when you’ve been branded as a murderer –”

“I dare to threaten you because I am a murderer,” Baëkhyun interrupted, retrieving something from the folds of his cloak and pulling it apart to reveal the silver glint of a blade. He twisted it this way and that, making sure that the dagger would reflect the light of the candle. Hyunwoo eyed the weapon, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

“Fine!” he snapped, “You win, just like you’ve won every damn duel we’ve ever had!”

Satisfied, Baëkhyun put the dagger away and stood up to leave, ignoring Hyunwoo’s grumbling as he stepped back out into the cold night and hurried to make his way home. He was in bed when Jongdae woke up, and the latter had no idea that Baëkhyun had made another trip to the village during the night.

Now that he knew Baëkhyun could ease the pain from his lightning magic, Jongdae wasn’t so afraid and careful of using his power anymore. He still held back a little, not wanting to take advantage of Baëkhyun, but he no longer kept as sharp a lookout for threats anymore whenever he went hunting for meat, knowing that Baëkhyun would massage his hands if he had to use lightning to scare off a wild beast.

Of course, there were moments where Jongdae would use his lightning magic when Baëkhyun was nowhere nearby. At those times, Jongdae had no choice but to grit his teeth, down a sleeping potion, and sleep through the pain. However, by the time he woke up, he would find Baëkhyun sitting by his bed, holding Jongdae’s hands while using his light power to soothe the stinging.

Sometimes, Jongdae was lucky, and he would run into Baëkhyun as the latter was on his way back to the house. Baëkhyun would take one look at the agonized expression on Jongdae’s face and immediately hold out his glowing hands in a silent invitation that Jongdae would gladly accept.

It was during one of these times that Jongdae noticed something missing on Baëkhyun’s face. “Where’s your face chain?”

“I gave it to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo,” Baëkhyun explained, “As payment for a rapier that Kyungsoo crafted.”

Jongdae looked down to see the weapon hanging at Baëkhyun’s waist. “Why do you need a rapier?”

“I had one back before I fell,” Baëkhyun said, “The other stars took it away before they cast me out of the sky, and I missed the familiar feeling of having one.”

“Oh, I see.” Jongdae let it go at that, yet there was a nagging feeling that he couldn’t explain as he and Baëkhyun headed back inside.

It turned out that that wouldn’t be the only thing that bothered Jongdae. A few days later, Jongdae was trying to get a fire started to cook some stew that evening for dinner, but he couldn’t find the matchbox. In the end, he resorted to his lightning to light a fire in the fireplace and quickly tossed some firewood into the hearth before the inflammation set in.

Except the inflammation never came.

Confused, Jongdae stared down at his hands, even giving them a little shake. His hands would usually start burning by now, but even after a minute passed, there was nothing. Not even the slightest tingle. Not knowing what to make of it, Jongdae thought back to the last time he had used his lightning power. Had he gotten an inflammation then?

Unfortunately, Jongdae’s thoughts were interrupted as Baëkhyun opened the door and stepped inside, carrying some herbs in his arms.

He caught sight of Jongdae standing dumbly by the fireplace and asked, “What are you doing?”

Jongdae looked at him and raised his hands. “My hands aren’t hurting.”

Baëkhyun frowned, setting the herbs on the table. “They’re…not hurting? Did you use your lightning?”

“Yeah, I needed to start a fire and couldn’t find the matchbox.”

Baëkhyun took Jongdae’s hands in his own, carefully examining the smooth skin for any redness or swelling. Upon finding none, he hummed, “Maybe your body has adjusted to it or something. If it starts hurting, let me know and I’ll massage it for you.”

“Oh, okay.” Jongdae nodded, watching Baëkhyun leave the room.

He went back to preparing the pot of stew, but his mind was still filled with chaos. Aside from the lack of inflammation in his hands, there was something else that Jongdae had noticed in the past week or so.

Baëkhyun had stopped staying outside after dark.

It probably meant nothing, but in the past, Baëkhyun always stayed out however long he pleased and would use his light to guide himself back to the house. He had nothing to fear in the dark. For him to go from such an unconcerned attitude to suddenly shutting himself in the house as soon as the sun started to set was a little suspicious.

Jongdae didn’t want to assume anything, so he decided to ask Baëkhyun about it. One day, when the sun was high and the wind brought warm air into the area, Jongdae invited Baëkhyun to go to the lake to soak their feet.

As the two of them sat side-by-side on the edge of the lake, enjoying the cool sensation of the water hugging their lower legs, Jongdae asked, “Baëkhyun-ah, can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” Baëkhyun replied, smirking at the aggravated look that Jongdae shot him. “But you can ask another.”

Jongdae chewed on his bottom lip, carefully choosing his words. He didn’t want to let Baëkhyun dance around the subject, but he also didn’t want to be too blunt in case it came off the wrong way and offended Baëkhyun. “Are you okay?”

He stared at the water, feeling the weight of Baëkhyun’s gaze on him. “Yes, I’m okay,” Baëkhyun answered, “Why? Did something happen?”

“When you first started living with me, you had a habit of staying outside until it after dark,” Jongdae explained, “but these days, I noticed that you avoid going outside as soon as the sun starts to set. I know that maybe you’re just trying to change your habit, but I’m worried…did something happen to your light?”

For a long time, Baëkhyun didn’t answer. Jongdae had a feeling that the other was also considering his words, so he made no move to urge an answer from Baëkhyun, instead swinging his feet and kicking up small sprays of water as he waited patiently.

Finally, Baëkhyun said, “I don’t have power over light anymore.”

Shocked, Jongdae accidentally kicked up a larger wave than he intended to and turned to gape at Baëkhyun. “What?” he spluttered, “What on–how did that happen? Did you lose it because you became a fallen star?”

“No,” Baëkhyun murmured, “I gave it to someone who needed it more than I did. This person can use lightning magic, but their hands would become inflamed whenever they used it. We found out that my light helps with the inflammation. Therefore, I decided to transfer my light to him, so he can use his lightning freely and without fear of pain.”

All of a sudden, Baëkhyun’s change in behavior and Jongdae’s lack of inflammation made sense. “The rapier,” Jongdae said, “Did you get that because you didn’t have your light anymore?”

Baëkhyun hummed in confirmation, and Jongdae swallowed. “Why?” His voice cracked, “Why would you sacrifice your–something so important to you, to your identity, for me?”

“Why would I not?” Baëkhyun asked as he leaned back to look at the sky. “When I first fell from the sky, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was lost and as far as I could see, I had no future. I would have spent the rest of my days wandering around, not knowing where I was headed and how I would get there. When you came along and offered me a place to stay, I didn’t think much of it at first. I planned to live with you until I figured out where I wanted to go, and then I would leave and do my own thing. Except I never found out what I wanted to do, and after watching you do things like hunting and cooking…I think I realized that it was okay to just live. Live through each day just to survive without having to worry about others’ expectations, without having to worry about being better than others at a craft.”

He turned to look at Jongdae, and Jongdae was stunned to see how alive Baëkhyun looked now with eyes bright and eager to take in the colors of the world and vibrant expressions that hid none of the thoughts that ran through his mind.

“You showed me that it’s okay to be alive just for the sake of living,” Baëkhyun continued, “This is the least I could do for you. I don’t regret it. Not now. Not ever.”

The intensity of Baëkhyun’s words was too much for Jongdae. He looked away, staring out at the expanse of the lake. He was at a loss for words. After all, what could he say when Baëkhyun poured his heart out to him? If he tried to reject Baëkhyun’s light, then it would be no more than an insult to Baëkhyun himself. Besides, somewhere deep down, Jongdae knew that he didn’t want to reject Baëkhyun’s light.

Baëkhyun had handed Jongdae a part of his soul, and Jongdae fully intended to treasure it.

“Thank you,” Jongdae said thickly, “I–” He trailed off, not knowing what words could possibly express even half of the feelings that he was experiencing.

“Are you crying?” Baëkhyun teased, reaching over to try and pry Jongdae’s arms away. “Let me see.”

“I’m not!” Jongdae shouted, leaning away from to escape from Baëkhyun’s hands.

Baëkhyun backed off, smiling as he watched Jongdae wipe at his eyes. Once he had given Jongdae a few moments to recover, he asked, “Want to start heading back?”

“Okay,” Jongdae said, letting Baëkhyun pull him up from where he was sitting. Picking up their shoes, the pair started heading back, carefully picking their way through the foliage.

As Jongdae held out a hand to help Baëkhyun clamber onto a log, he said, “Baëkhyun-ah.”

“Hmm?” Baëkhyun responded.

“If…” Jongdae hesitated, “If you ever decide that there is something you want to do, and you need to travel somewhere else to do it, just remember that you’re always welcome here, okay? No matter if it takes you one year, five years, or even ten years to come back, I’ll be here waiting. This is your home, too.”

The two of them stood on top of the log, looking at each other and exchanging silent words with their gazes. Then, Baëkhyun smirked, eyes full of mischief as he jumped down. “Aw, and here I was thinking that I would kidnap you along with me. ”

Jongdae laughed loudly at that and followed suit. As he chased Baëkhyun through the trees, he found that he wouldn’t mind if Baëkhyun kidnapped him to go on some grand adventure someday.