a/n

I’ve found myself reading up on so much for this fic lmao. I give full credit to Jennifer Yoo’s article for the story of Irogu and Inari and how Korea has strong ties with Inari worship. It’s interesting how much Asian countries overlap in terms of cultures. Reading this article made me realize that even simple things such as folklore can have very rich origins ^^

Note that this article only EXPLORES the possibility of Inari worship having originated in Korea. It’s not a cold, hard fact. :) I’m saying this just in case anyone gets offended by it hahaha

You will notice that Junmyeon always refers to Inari as “Lord Inari”. It is a gesture of reverence, and I had a very long internal conflict on whether I should use “lord” or just go with the Japanese honorific “-sama”. I chose “lord” instead. Somehow, using “Inari-sama” was awkward for me OTL

Anyway, here you are! This chapter has no angst, I promise! Happy reading~

3

Plans for Our Wings

この蒼い風に乗り　あの雲のむこうまで

飛んでいこうよ　すべて忘れて

Let's ride on this blue wind and fly beyond those clouds,

And forget about everything.

“How did you find this place?” Junmyeon asks Chanyeol afterwards. They had both grown tired of kicking their feet in the water and had pulled their legs up to sit instead, admiring the colors that were reflected on the pond’s surface. A gentle breeze would blow through the clearing from time to time, dispelling the weak heat from the afternoon sun.

Chanyeol shrugged. “I’m not sure, really. I just woke up from a nap and then I saw the rain outside…and then the rainbow. Did you see that, too? I don’t see rainbows that often and it was pretty.” He smiles at the memory, but it was quickly wiped off his face when he saw Junmyeon’s face darken. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The turquoise-haired boy shakes his head and plasters on a reassuring smile. “So you followed the rainbow here?” he asks.

“No,” Chanyeol answered. “It was… I don’t know how to explain it. I guess you can say I was following the rain? No, wait that doesn’t make sense…” he tries to organize his thoughts, and to remember exactly what it was that compelled him to go into the forest in the first place. But he couldn’t come up with anything. All he could remember was the intense longing. “I don’t know,” he concludes weakly, giving up.

“…why is your hair white?”

Chanyeol blinks, totally not expecting the random question. He gives the Junmyeon a questioning look, just in case there was a hidden meaning in the question. But the boy merely continued to stare at the singer’s blond locks.

“I, uh, had it dyed.”

“Dyed? Like how people dye cloths?”

“Um… yeah?” Chanyeol’s brows furrow. “I think so?”

“Huh.” Junmyeon breathes. “So hair can be dyed now, too…” his voice trails off as his hand reaches out towards Chanyeol. His slender fingers stretch out to touch the snowy tresses, leaving tingles where his fingertips accidentally tap on the singer’s skin.

Chanyeol frowns slightly in confusion, but does not do anything to stop the boy. Was this… typical gumiho behaviour?

“Why did you dye your hair?” Junmyeon inquires.

“Uhh…there wasn’t that much of a reason? I mean, I’ve dyed it before. It’s kind of expected with the line of work that I have …”

“It looks good on you.” Junmyeon compliments. He withdraws his hand, and a faint blush appears in Chanyeol’s cheeks. He distracts himself with the grass by his feet, pulling out some small blades to ease the tension that builds in his chest.

“Wha-what about you?” the blond finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “Why did you dye your hair?”

Junmyeon blinks. “I didn’t dye my hair.”

“Oh.”

This was ridiculous. What was he being so tongue-tied about? Where did that confident, self-assured Chanyeol go? That Chanyeol, who had total control over crowds upon crowds with his smooth talk?

“Um, so…” Chanyeol clears his throat in an attempt to dispel his awkwardness. “So your hair has always been turquoise?”

 “Yes,” the other answers as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Huh.”

Junmyeon shifts so that he is completely facing Chanyeol. “You do know that I am not human, right?”

“Hey, I did guess that already, I’ll have you know,” the singer declares indignantly. “It’s not nice to assume things, and who was I to assume that gumiho do not dye their hair?”

Junmyeon stares at him for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Chimes, Chanyeol automatically thinks at the sound.

“I’m not a gumiho.”

 “B-but your ears,” Chanyeol stutters. “Your tails.”

Junmyeon’s giggles peter out into a smile. “Ah, I suppose it would make sense if I were a gumiho, given that we are in Joseon, after all.”

“Joseon?”

“This country. Joseon.”

“Ah, right. People call it Korea now,” Chanyeol informs him.  

“O-oh.” Junmyeon’s cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I always forget…”

A moment passes. Two.

Junmyeon’s eyes get that faraway look, and Chanyeol wonders what memories the turquoise-haired boy was reliving. Whatever it was, Chanyeol didn’t like the way how the other’s shoulders slumped, the way his lips pulled downwards until his sweet smile was erased. He had to pull the other back from those sad memories, quick.

“You’re not gonna tell me you’re a vampire now, are you?” Chanyeol deadpans, effectively snapping Junmyeon out of his thoughts and snort in disbelief.

 “Oh, if only I were someone that powerful,” Junmyeon laments. “But no, I’m not a vampire. I’ve never met one either, but I had an old friend who did. He said they weren’t all that interesting aside from their freakish strength and absolute loathing for sunlight.”

“Ugh, thank god. I thought I was gonna have to offer you my blood or something.”

 This earns him another fit of giggles from the other boy. Chanyeol decides that he likes the sound.

“So…” Chanyeol starts, clearing his throat. “What are you?”

Junmyeon looks him in the eye and smiles shyly. “In your language, I suppose you would call me a fox spirit. A gumiho is the local term, but I am a kitsune. There is a difference.” He looks away, turning his gaze to the pond.

“But kitsune,” Chanyeol recognizes the term, having had to learn Japanese for SC promotions. He wasn’t excellent at it, but he could probably manage short conversations. “Those are creatures from Japan. You’re in Korea. Sorry, but that kind of doesn’t make sense.”

The fox spirit shakes his head. “It is alright, I understand the confusion,” he assures with a smile. “It is quite a long story, however. Do you want to hear it?”

“A story?” the singer repeats. He adjusts his legs so he is now more comfortably seated in a squat. “It’s a lazy afternoon and it’s not like I have somewhere else to be. I’m more than glad to hear it, Junmyeon.”

“Well…” Junmyeon shifts as well, so that he is slightly facing Chanyeol.

This is the story of Inari.

A long, long time ago, there was a man named Irogu.

This Irogu was one of the many sons born from the clan of Hata, a powerful clan in Goryeo. He and a small part of their clan had travelled to the country of the rising sun, in the beginning only for trading but in time grew too fond of the country to leave.

Irogu was an excellent marksman, with enough skill to be called the best in the land. He could hit any target, be it an animal of the forest or a man running in the battlefield.

One day, Irogu decides on a whim to use rice cakes for archery practice. Unsurprisingly, he hits the target with only one shot of his arrows. But a strange thing happened. Once his arrow pierced the rice cake, it transformed into a bird. The bird, white as the clouds on a sunny day, flew away to a nearby mountain.

It was such an unbelievable sight that Irogu had to follow the bird up the mountain. The bird flies far, until it reaches a clearing. The clearing shined golden under the sun, and looking closely, Irogu gasps in shock and dismay at himself.

It is a field of rice, and it is then that Irogu realizes his mistake. He had disrespected rice, a blessing to him and his people, had desecrated the gift from heavens that fills him everyday. He falls to his kneels and begs for forgiveness towards the god he had offended, swearing that he shall never again insult their blessings in such a way.

Irogu erects a shrine on the field to appease the god, and named the shrine Inari. And since then, the Hata clan handled rice with respect, never once belittling the grains from the gods. In return, the Hata clan was blessed, and they lived prosperously until the end of their lives.

Junmyeon’s voice had been so soft, his narrative a flowing river of gentleness on Chanyeol’s ears. It was magical enough to lull him into a daze, and when the flow of words ceased, the singer’s eyes fluttered open, as if awakening from a dream. When did I close my eyes? he wonders. He notices that the fox spirit’s eyes were closed as well.

“That is the story of the god Inari,” Junmyeon informs him. The fox spirit opens his eyes. He notices Chanyeol’s stare, and he gives a shy smile. “Lord Inari is the god of many things, but mostly people pray to him for a good harvest of rice. Anyone blessed by Lord Inari enjoys protection and prosperity. Kitsune are the messengers and servants of Lord Inari. We extend his blessings to humans by protecting them from evil. We nourish the land so that they may have bountiful harvests.

Lord Inari is such a powerful and generous god that when some of Irogu’s great-grandchildren went back to Goryeo—now called Joseon—they  brought their worship with them. They built a temple for Lord Inari in Joseon, and passed on the faith to their own children and grandchildren.”

“Ah, that explains a lot,” Chanyeol muses. “So, you travelled all the way here?”

The fox spirit shakes his head. “I was born here,” he answers. “When Irogu’s descendants sailed back to Joseon, Lord Inari sent along many of his kitsune, as a gift for their loyalty. My mother and father were among those.”

Chanyeol waits for the alarm bells to ring in his head. There weren’t any. Huh. Either his Loony Radar™ was out of commission, or Junmyeon was telling the truth. Chanyeol decides to go with the latter for the time being. Besides, he was definitely taller and larger than the guy. Even if Junmyeon was a kitsune,  surely Chanyeol’s large frame would be an advantage? If he did turn out to be a nutcase, Chanyeol would at least be able to defend himself. Not that he could imagine himself hitting the fox spirit. Junmyeon looked too fragile, too soft, too…adorable.

Shut up, Chanyeol thinks, mentally slapping himself.

“I’m sorry,” Junmyeon mumbles. “Was I talking too much? Am I making you uncomfortable? I will leave you alone if I’m bothering you…”

“What? No no no, “Chanyeol fumbles, realizing that he had been silent for too long, and the other must have taken it as a sign of discomfort. “Really, it doesn’t bother me. I was just trying to process it, this is kind of a strange situation, you know? But I liked hearing your story, and I like talking to you.”

The other boy’s eyebrows furrow. “Are you sure? Because if not, I—“

“I’m sure,” Chanyeol reassures him. “Strange people are the most interesting to be with, anyway.”

“Ah… of course you would think I am strange,” Junmyeon winces.

“It’s not a bad thing!” the singer almost shouts as his hands shoot out infront of him, shaking agitatedly to dispel the misunderstanding. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he have to keep on saying the wrong things. He was more eloquent than this, he was sure of it. “It’s not…”

Chanyeol takes a deep breath and collects his thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is, I like it when I find someone who’s a little strange. Not all strange people are good people of course. But they fascinate me.”

“Really?” the fox spirit still seems unsure.

“Really!” the singer proclaims. “God, if you only know the kind of friends that I keep… absolute oddballs, the lot of them.” Chanyeol leans forward and lowers his voice into a conspirational whisper. “I have this friend who thinks he’s a genius artist but all of his drawings look like an infant’s scribbles.”

Junmyeon twitters. “Do not be so hard on him. Maybe his art is just not the kind that you like.”

“Oh god, I hope you never meet him,” Chanyeol shudders. “He’ll latch on to you once he hears those words and go on a monologue about people ‘not getting his style’. Who knows, he might even sign you up into his fanclub. He has a total of three members so far—his mother, his father, and me, his unlucky childhood friend.”

 Junmyeon asks as he tilts his head in confusion. “Fanclub? What is that?”

“It’s a group people join when they are all fans of someone, or something.”

“Fans?”

“Admirers, I guess?” Chanyeol scratches his head. “Like when people love a particular book, they are called fans of that certain book. Or if they all love a certain singer, artist, or whatever.”

“And what do these fanclubs do?”

“Well… they support whoever or whatever they are a fan of, basically. If it’s a singer, they go to that singer’s concerts, they buy anything that is related to that singer. Sometimes, if they can, they even give gifts to that singer.”

“Oh!” Junmyeon claps his hands together in fascination. “That sounds like serving a god, then. Do they pray to that singer as well?”

That elicits a laugh from the blond. “I suppose it can be like worshipping a god,” he concurs. “But no, fans don’t pray to whoever they are a fan of. They just love them, I guess?”

“Ah.” The fox spirit looks sheepish. “There is a lot I do not know about the present world.”

“I was just about to ask you about that, actually,” Chanyeol says. “How do you know about humans form before, but not about the humans of now?”

Junmyeon hesitates before replying. “My family and I used to interact with humans hundreds of years ago,” he starts. “We used to have a shrine. Humans would come there and pray to our Lord Inari, sometimes they prayed to us as well. Sometimes they gave offerings, too. But they stopped coming, so my family came to live in this forest…” his voice trails off as he raises his head, shifting his gaze to the trees around them before looking at Chanyeol and giving him a brief smile.

It must have been a much-abridged version of his story, but Chanyeol felt sad for the fox spirit, anyway. And he caught how Junmyeon seemed to talk about his family in the past tense. That must mean…

“My family is gone, and I am the only one left now,” the fox spirit says, confirming Chanyeol’s thoughts. “It takes a lot of energy for me to leave this forest even in brief periods, and I am not very brave either so I have not ventured from this forest for a long time.”

Not knowing how to react, Chanyeol glances back at the pond before them. The light reflected from the sky has changed into a muted orange-gold. A cool breeze blows by, gently shaking leaves off the trees surrounding them, and giving Chanyeol a slight shiver.

“But then,” he mutters as he twiddles with his thumbs. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”

It’s another one of those sad smiles that he receives. “It is all right,” Junmyeon assures him. “I am quite used to being by myself.”

Chanyeol would have believed him, if it weren’t for the way that Junmyeon’s arms curled over his own shoulders protectively. The fox spirit was not happy, not even close. And Chanyeol did not like that.

Chanyeol shoots up to his feet. “Say, you will be here again tomorrow, right?” he confirms.

“Well… yes, I suppose,” Junmyeon responds hesitantly. “Why do you ask?”

“Coz I’ll come back, of course! And I’m going to bring stuff for you.”

Junmyeon’s heart soars. Chanyeol’s excitement was contagious. But he catches himself. He swallows his grin and offers another small smile in its place. “Is that so?”

He watches as the human puts his socks back on, along with his strange shoes. “My grandmother will probably take me with her to town in the morning, so I won’t be able to come until afternoon,” he tells Junmyeon. “But I’ll try to come as early as I can. Be sure to be here, okay?”

The fox spirit nods placidly. “I will wait for you, then.”

Chanyeol smiles as he straightens up. “I’ll get going now, Junmyeon. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Junmyoen waves him goodbye and tries to keep the smile on his face, because the human keeps turning back to him as he was walking away, as if confirming that Junmyeon was still there. Once he is out of his view, Junmyeon brings his hand down with a sigh.

There was little chance that Chanyeol would come back. This was nothing new. Humans who found their way into this forest hardly ever saw Junmyeon, and the rare ones that did would always make the same promise of coming back. They never did, because they would forget about Junmyeon once they woke up in the morning. Or even if they managed to remember him and return to the meadow, they somehow could not see Junmyeon anymore. Perhaps the magic of the forest shifted at times, allowing a temporary connection between himself and the humans? Junmyeon was not sure.

But he has learned. He has learned to be thankful for small, cheery events that disturbed his monotonous existence. Today had been dreary day, but it ended so nicely. He had been able to converse with someone for the first time in a long time. He’d even laughed. That was enough.

He hears some jovial chirps from the treetops. “I know,” he whispers in agreement. “I really liked him, too.”

With a smile, he murmurs a quick prayer of blessing for the tall human.

“Yeol-ah, where have you been?”

It’s almost dark when Chanyeol gets home, and he is greeted by his grandmother as he is hanging his damp hoodie on the coat rack.

“I just went for a quick walk in the forest, halmeoni.”

“My stubborn city brat finally caved in?” the old woman asks teasingly. “And how was it?”

Chanyeol smiles at the memory of his trancelike encounter. “It was very nice,” he answers sincerely. “And I will definitely be going back.”

That night, his dreams are filled with chime-like laughter from a boy with the colors of the sky.