He would never get tired of this. Of the sight in front of his eyes, just within his reach. To the point where if he wanted to grab a handful of it, he could have. To the point where if he wanted to come see it tomorrow, he could have. He could come see it the day after tomorrow, and the day after that, and the week after that, on and on. On and on because he’ll never get enough. He would never get enough of the large flowerbed covering the entrance to the subway station in Sector A of the city.

He had asked her if they could come here today, despite what she may or may have not wanted to do. A person would say that he thought only of himself because of this. That he was selfish because of this. He’d argue avidly against such claims. He had wanted to come here with her to remind her of the significance such thriving flowers had.

The Tree of Life had approved of her. Exo planet had approved of her. The sky above was bluer than it’s been in years. The people below it are smiling larger than they have in years.

But, for whatever reason, she wasn’t. At least, it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel real whenever an Exotian would greet her and she’d show them her set of white teeth. He always was perceptive about these kinds of thing. About the difference between what was real and what was a fabrication.

In other words, fake.

Fake in all connotations of the word.

How did he know? What gave her away? The corner of her lips would twitch endlessly all the while. The aura he had learned to associate with her, witty, sarcastic, and yet forever grateful for everything around her, wasn’t there. She woke up on the wrong side of the bed and as a result, she lost her charisma. It wasn’t there. She didn’t feel like her. She felt like a foreign person at his side. An enigma whose identity he couldn’t place. Someone he didn’t know.

And he disliked it.

And he conveyed this dislike of his to her openly, as he was always open about how he felt. The words he used were more hateful. More scarring. Less kind and soft and good-natured than he had thought them. And yet, she listened attentively. She got neither angry nor defensive. She merely showed him another one of those fake smiles of hers.

“I had a dream this morning. Before I woke up.” Was her reply, as though that explained everything. As though there was so much more to it that he couldn’t even begin to understand. As though she was going to fade into the background right then and there, her existence but a dream like the one she said she had. She turned her eyes back to the flowers, and for a moment, he thought he saw it. He thought he saw the original, real smile he’s come to know. But, at the last second, in that last moment, it failed. It failed on her, and her lips were instead set into a straight line as she spoke genuinely, apologetically, “I’ll be better by tomorrow, Sehun. I will.”

Yet, what did she have to apologize for? If she had regrets about the way she was acting, then all she had to do was correct her behavior. If she didn’t want to smile, she didn’t have to. She didn’t have to force it just to say sorry for it later. It seemed so simple to him. Complex was a word he didn’t understand the meaning of.

His highness’s last conversation with him was one he’d never understand the meaning of. Because when “tomorrow” came, she was anything but “better.”

“Good Morning.”

Those were her first words as she entered the dining room, dressed in a peter pan collared peach dress that fit her figure perfectly. Bending in at all the right places. A-line cuts suited her best. Which was a shame, considering she rarely wore them. Considering she rarely wore dresses in general. Kris had grown convinced she didn’t own one.

But, there she was. Her hair calm on her head, not a single strand out of place. A smile on her face, gentle and soft. And yet, just like her dress, sharp and refined in all the right places. She looked good today. That’s the thought that first struck him upon catching sight of her. That’s the thought she heard with ease.

“Thank you, Kris.” She blatantly accepted the compliment, surprise not crossing her face in the least. Her eyelashes fluttered, her eyes on him as she neared her place at the table. Right between himself and Suho. “I thought I’d wear something different today. I was unsure about the entire thing, so I’m more than happy to receive your approval.”

Kris shrugged, staring back at her as she pulled out her seat and sat down. His gaze was unable to leave her own. She looked different physically, materialistically, yes. But, at the same time, the look in her eyes was different. As though she were trying to tell him something. As though there was something more to her words, affection lacing through each syllable she uttered. Adoration spilling from the pools that currently reflected his image back at him, unwavering and determined.

But, for what? And why?

He wasn’t sure how to respond, which should have struck him as odd. Which should have caused him to question why. Why could he not? What was stopping him? In the past, his impulsive responses always came out with ease. But, this time, he forced it. He forced the comment he sarcastically made as he averted his eyes, no longer able to hold her own. The weight was too much. The pressure overwhelmed him.

All because she looked different?

He was mystified by the confusion he felt swirling in the pit of his stomach, but ignored it as he spoke up, responding to her at last, “Well, you already know that as long as it’s not those jeans of yours, I’m happy with whatever you wear.”

“Of course.” She mindlessly replied, turning to the water-controlling Guardian seated at her other side instead: Suho. He smiled once he realized she was looking at him, and called out her title with the utmost of care, the utmost of respect. As he had always done. He had been long since conditioned to associate her title with a smile curving its way to his lips.

“Yes, your highness?”

Because she looked as though she wanted something. As though she meant to say something. She seemed to be many things. Many things that Suho didn’t understand as she laughed then, covering up the gesture with one hand while the other did something he didn’t expect. Not once had this happened since after the first day he met her. Not once had she initiatied what she so easily did then.

What she did that caused a lump to form in his throat, no further words escaping him as he felt chills run down his spine at the contact. At the act of her slipping her hand past his forearm, letting it dwell there within the safety of the crook of his arm. He looked down in awe at the connection, enraptured by it – no matter how slight it may have been – even when Sehun, Tao, and Kai joined them in the dining room at long last.

At long last, the other guardians began to file in, filling all seats except four. One would remain empty, the owners of the other three announcing their arrival not with their voices but with the delightful aroma that tickled at the noses of all those who awaited that which they brought with them. That which they carried through the door upon metal trays: today’s breakfast menu composed of mainly meats, cheese, and buttered bread.

An extravagant menu to be sure.

Too extravagant.

This was the reason that after Chen, carrying a tray with a plate of bread rolls and slim, fine slices of cheese, and Lay, carrying a tray of ham and turkey slices, came D.O. A tray of fruits lay in his hand. Apple slices cut without the skin. Ripe green grapes freshly picked from their vines. Oranges peeled down to their essentials. Because while she might have been taking small steps towards the bigger meats, from bacon and eggs to ham and pork, her highness was still reluctant to eat those luxuries such as cheese. And if she wouldn’t fill her stomach on that, she must fill it with something else. Like this, they had made it known to her that they knew of her hesitance during meals. Like this, they had long since accepted it.

Like this, the menu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner had always catered to her in some way or another. Just like this, she would always thank D.O for going out of his way to make sure she ate something. Anything. As long as she did.

So, he hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t expected that after all eleven Guardians and their Seeress sat down for breakfast, forks and spoons and hands moving this way and that, the first words out of would be, “Tao, may you pass the cheese?”

Silence engulfed the room. Covering them like a warm blanket, yet leaving them anything but warm. Because the wool was sewn loosely, holes scattered between the seams. Holes of doubt and worry that formed in each and every Guardian’s usual morning demeanor then.

The sound of Chanyeol’s fork clattering to his plate is what broke the quiet, her highness forever looking on at Tao, waiting for him to comply with her question. When he didn’t, she frowned, pursing her lips in dissatisfaction. When he instead spoke out cautiously “Are you sure, your highness?” her eyebrows furrowed downwards, creases forming between them just above the bridge of her nose. 

“Of course I am.”

Of course she was. Of course. Of course. Of course never sounded so wrong. Of course left Tao doing anything but reaching over for that which she asked for. His hands lay still, not moving in the least, on the table on either side of him. So then, of course she asked someone else for that which she desired.

“Chen, may you pass the cheese, please?” Her tone remained unchanged from how it had been when she asked Tao. And yet, once more, she was questioned. This time by the person whose hypocritical criticism broke the calm façade she had put up the second time around.  Her patience was tested with to the limit and as a result, an outburst on her part occurred, even though there was nothing to scold him about. Even though he didn’t deserve her superior sounding words, she said them. She said them and failed to regret them. Or rather, she hadn’t seen a reason to regret them at all.

“Are you sure this is what you want, my Seeress?” Chen asked, his hand reaching out, hovering over the plate of cheese, his fingers ready and willing to get it for her had she replied with a simple, “Yes.” Had she not said what she did next.

“And do you think you have any right to ask me that question? You, the Guardian who doesn’t even want the great gift he was given? You, the Guardian who doesn’t even know what he wants at all?”

Venom dripped from each and every word, causing that which had taken so long to build up to burst into flames in an instant. Causing the trust he had placed in her to turn to ash, as though it were a pile of cinder ready and waiting to be burned. Ready and waiting because it knew this would happen. Because he knew she would never fully understand him.

“She,” the woman who he wouldn’t refer to as his highness. His Seeress. Because she wasn’t. Because she wasn’t the one who he still trusted so much, too much. Who he still respected so much, too much, that he wasn’t going to let “her” do this. Because this wasn’t what his highness would want. This wasn’t what his Seeress would want.

And, if she didn’t want it, he didn’t either.

So, without a single moment’s hesitation, with a swipe of his hand, plates went crashing down from the table, ceramic shrapnel scattering across the marble floor upon impact. Slices of cheese lay here and there, amongst the rubble of what used to hold them. The wreckage had caused the air to become tense once more, D.O rising from his seat in surprise, yet no words leaving him. He wasn’t given a chance to say a single word, as she spoke first.

As their “Seeress” spoke first. 

“Chen.” Just his name, and yet he never felt so angered by the sound of it. She was calling him to sit back down. She was calling him to calm down, because throwing a fit was unsightly. She was calling to him, and the sound was one he didn’t want to hear.

“Don’t call my name like you know me.” He scoffed, his hands balling into fists he kept within the depths of his pants pockets, holding back with all his might, keeping himself under as much control as he could muster, “Because I sure as hell don’t know you.”

He didn’t want whoever called to him now, his ears deaf to that familiar voice using that unfamiliar tone, as he left. As he stormed out of the dining room, shaking off both Lay and Xiumin who had reached back for him, their hands brushing off of his arm harmlessly due to his haste.

“Chen—” she called again but, at the sight of his receding back, of the door slamming shut, his presence disappearing behind it, she stuttered. She sputtered out, choking on her own words. She began to cough uncontrollably, ushering in a round of questions to be directed towards her.

“Are you alright, your highness?” Baekhyun’s legs lifted him from his chair, looking to go to her side. To assess what was wrong. Lay was faster, rounding the table to her with a flurry of wide strides. He placed his hand to her back, rubbing soothingly as she rode out her cough, not saying a single word edgeways.

“Your highness?” Tao asked uncertainly from across the table, his voice a mere whisper. His stomach churning, as though what he had just eaten, the little food he was able to eat before now, was fighting to come up. He had an awful feeling about this. But, he didn’t voice it: this feeling of his. Not now.

Now, he simply watched.

He simply watched with helpless eyes in the light of Chen’s departure, a storm seeming to rage somewhere far away. Chen was long gone now. And he would not return for the rest of the day. Of the day that started out so well, so peacefully, as though the sun looked down happily on them as it had done for many mornings passed. Like a bad dream. Like an ill-boding peek into the future.

“Drink water.” Lay prescribed to her, his hand still on her back, massaging large circles on the thin expanse. She nodded, following his suggestion as she took the glass of water Suho held out to her, gulping down. When she was done, when her lips left the rim of the cool glass, she tilted her chin upwards, breathing in through her nose deeply.

And then, she did something odd.

She smiled. As she breathed out, her lips hitched upwards and her voice melodically sang out praise for the healer at her side, “Thank you, Lay.”

His hand fell from her back then, his feet driving him two steps back on instinct. Putting distance between herself and him. A distance she closed as she stood, explaining herself as her hand reached out, running across his chest from left to right, fingers skimming across the fabric of his thin shirt. The streaks her fingers traced there left his skin burning. A fire that erupted in his chest as he stepped even farther away, leaning out of her touch, unable to maintain eye contact with her as his brown orbs casted downwards instead.

“I’m fine now. Something just,” she paused, her hand falling from him as she walked casually towards the door, her intentions clear, “something tried to come up, is all.”

And with her feet set on finding Chen, she left through the doorway of the dining room, the profile view of her crooked smile all she left the other ten Guardians with. Not much time passed before someone finally managed to ask the question they were all wondering.

“What the just happened?” Sehun spoke for the first time since this all started, whatever this all was.

“Don’t curse.” D.O scolded motherly. But, the power behind his voice was gone. His words were but a lower murmur. His eyes were focused on the shards of ceramic mixed with cheese that littered the floor where Chen once sat.

“Why shouldn’t I? Because it’s unpleasant?” Sehun rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair, his hands crossing themselves stiffly across his chest, “Because I’m pretty sure whatever just happened is a hell of a lot more unpleasant than me cursing.”

And that’s when Chanyeol suddenly interjected, eyes wide, looking off into the distance. Off at some distant memory that he had been struggling to remember since Chen stormed out. And, he succeeded. He succeeded in remembering that which occurred so long ago, it seemed insignificant. It seemed like a distant dream that didn’t belong to the reality he currently lived. “I remember it now.” 

“You remember what?” Xiumin pressed him on, eager for answers to the questions that swirled in his head. The fire-controlling Guardian held his tongue, attempting to figure out a correct way to phrase his next words. However, patience was the last thing on anyone’s mind. Impatience was all Xiumin had at this point, “Spit it out, man.”

“That day Baekhyun was injured by the Council, she changed.” There was no immediate reaction to that first sentence, prompting Chanyeol to explain himself further. To explain what he remembered further, “I mean, she still looked like herself but, she was different. Her posture was different. Her gestures were different. Her voice sounded different. More commanding. Authoritative. Charismatic.” He remembered vividly the way she called his name and the intonations of her voice that remained steady despite the earthquake caused by the situation suddenly upon them.

“Just like she was now?” Baekhyun questioned, pointing towards the door, having not witnessed the day himself. Having not remembered half of the day itself, as he had been writhing on the bed in pain for most of it.

“Luhan.” Kris called out, knowing for a fact that the younger Guardian was listening. That he was watching this entire time. “Tell me he’s wrong.” He demanded, and yet, when he spoke again, he pleaded for the conclusion he had dawned upon to be wrong. For it to be the farthest thing from the truth, “Tell me.”

It took a moment for it to appear. For that translucent, gleaming orb to come floating through the ceiling, hovering precariously in the middle of the dining table. Expectations of the explanation he would provide rose, along with the hopefulness that that which was a lie would be the correct conclusion. But, Luhan’s voice which echoed from the glass sphere spoke the absolute truth. A truth Kris didn’t want to hear. A truth two Guardians before him failed to acknowledge because they too were just as fearful of what it meant. Of what would happen now. Of where they would go from here. Of where she, her highness, would go from here.

“It appears as though the “Seeress Persona,” the persona all Seeresses are born with, has completely taken over her highness’s consciousness.”

Kris didn’t let it sink in. He didn’t wait for the others to understand Luhan’s statement. If anything, coming to terms with events which occur, whether he liked them or not, was his strong point. “Why? Why so suddenly?”

And, finally, one of the two before him spoke up. One of the two who witnessed the change in the making shared what he knew with the others.

“She had a vision yesterday morning.” Tao suddenly declared, gaining the attention of each pair of eyes in the room. Gaining Luhan’s silence as even he listened intently. “She wouldn’t tell me what it was but, I felt like she was slipping through my fingers. I felt like she was going somewhere far away. So quickly that I couldn’t catch up no matter how much I sped up time and—”

Tao stopped, regret swelling within him. Regret that threatened to break the dam that were his lower eyelids, his vision becoming blurry to the point where he covered his closed eyes with his hand, not saying a single word more.

And, he didn’t have to.

He didn’t have to explain further, because someone else did.

Someone else who had said not a word. Someone who was purposefully quiet because he knew. He knew but, wasn’t it was always easier to pretend everything was fine? Wasn’t it always so much easier playing ignorant?

“You asked why?” Kai said pointedly to Kris, who looked to him in response. Kris didn’t have time to accuse. In fact, he didn’t even need to. Kai revealed himself to be the perpetrator of the crime whose origin remained unknown all on his own. He gave himself up, the last of the two who knew more than they let on, finally coming clean, “It’s my fault.”

“Kai?” Suho didn’t want to believe it.

He thought that Kai had ended his conquest long ago. And, despite his urge to trust in the Guardian who was under his charge, he couldn’t help but wonder. He couldn’t help but wonder if Kai did it on purpose. A wonder that was blown from his mind almost immediately, though the fact that he thought it at all had him apologizing to Kai over and over in his mind.

The fact that he thought it at all had him looking down to where the “Seeress” once held his arm. And he couldn’t help but wonder if he himself would purposely pull that second persona from her in order to be able to relish in that contact again. He admonished himself, selfishness he’s never felt before creeping up his skin, the origin point the crook of his arm. He was confused, regretful, and thus, unable to say anything more. Unable to say anything more than, “Kai?”

And Kai looked to him, eyes resolute in admitting what he had done, no matter what it had caused. No matter the implications it laid upon him. No matter the kind of criminal he was seen as because of it, he’d wash his hands of it. He’d do right, starting now. He’d come clean, starting now.

“What did you do?” Kris questioned, taking heavy steps towards where Kai now stood, hands shaking at his side. Kai wouldn’t have been surprised if he hit him. He had a right to. They all did. “Kai, what did you do?”

“I showed her something.” He dug his hand into his pocket, gripping firmly onto the piece of paper that lay folded inside. The piece of paper her highness gave back to him this morning after the shift in her mannerisms, in her facial expression, occurred right before his eyes. He pulled it out, cradling it with his fingers, the precious item. A picture of a man and a woman.

He held it out to Kris, proclaiming, “This.”

Kris peered over, taking it from him with a curious expression. Once he had spared more than a glance at it, he raised an agitated eyebrow at Kai, “And what exactly is this?” However, while Kris didn’t know what it was, while the Guardians around him struggled to see what it was as well, Luhan knew.

It was just a guess, but, most of the time, his guesses were right. Most of the time, he could count on his hypotheses being correct. And that picture, he had a feeling it had something to do with the question Kai had asked him just yesterday. That ill-boding question that had started all of this.

Three.

Three of them had seen this coming. And yet, the times were too happy, the sky was too bright, the smiles were too big, for them to admit they saw it. Not a single one of them set out to stop it from happening. If anything, they were simply three deadpan faces amidst the smiling masses. Three who took no action, three who were impassive, against that which left them without their smiles. If anything, the past wasn’t what mattered now. Now, they had to begin to solve the problem they had allowed to happen in the first place.

This was the reason Luhan decided that here was not the best place to continue their conversation. Here, where if ever the database he had meticulously maintained of the Hall of the Guardians were hacked by an outside source, their conversation would be anything but private. This is why he decided to move this conversation elsewhere, to where he held no influence. To where those outside who wished to do them harm held no influence. To where there existed only the influence of her highness. A room only she could control.

“We will continue this discussion in the Main Hall. I’m sorry all the food is going to waste, D.O.”

“It’s fine.” D.O shook his head in denial absentmindedly, his eyes scanning the table full of mainly untouched food. “I just,” his breath hitched, and he gulped down, steadying himself, keeping himself grounded as he attempted to process everything that just happened. Everything that was in the process of happening. And, everything that was going to happen from here on. “We’ve just never had leftovers before.”

“Sehun, please take her highness to the city as usual.” Luhan asked, only to receive a huff from Sehun in response.

Sehun had a right to hear what they would talk about in the Main Hall, Luhan knew that. Sehun wanted to know just as much as they did the reason behind what was happening, the reason behind her highness’s sudden change into her persona, Luhan knew that. But, he also knew that if anyone could understand a clipped summary of their conversation, it was Sehun.

Sehun, who preferred getting to the main point anyway. Sehun, who still didn’t look like he was willing to comply with Luhan’s plea. So, he asked again, with a tired voice, with a pleading voice, with a brotherly voice that he only used with Sehun, their closeness making them nearly inseparable, “Please.”

Their closeness being what caused Sehun to finally accept his task.

“Fine.” He mumbled beneath his breath, internally throwing a temper tantrum about not being able to stay back and discuss what was happening with the others. Externally sour faced, front teeth biting down on his lower lip as he suppressed making complaints. Because Luhan had said “please.” Because her highness needed to be kept safe now more than ever. Now, as she was anyone but herself. Besides, Sehun knew the advantages of being alone with her now.

He’d be able to see.

He’d be able to see exactly what they’re dealing with first hand. Once more. Up close. No one else and nothing else obstructing his view.

So, he took this opportunity gratefully, stalking out of the dining room to find her with his arms relaxed at his sides, their stiff position on his chest all but a memory. And, the others began to clean up. One plate at a time.

D.O set his eyes on the broken plate near Chen’s seat. He leaned over; reaching out to pick up the cheese he had watched Lay slice not even an hour ago. And, as he stared at it all, at the broken pieces of everything in front of him, he found himself laughing.

The entire debacle was almost funny.

Something so simple as cheese. Something so simple as cheese had frozen each and every Guardian at the table. Something so simple as cheese had made them aware of their impending doom.

Leftovers.

They’ve never had to deal with them before. They never thought they’d have to deal with something that used to hold such a small, insignificant existent. Her highness wasn’t her highness.

She was cast aside, like the cheese that lay wasted on the floor.

Like the leftovers that were frozen and put into storage, when they’d see outside their home again unknown. When they’d take the main stage on their place at the table unpredictable.

And unfortunately, the outlook for the future looking as it did, improbable.

He had brought her here again, selfishness be damned. He had brought her here for himself, mostly. Essentially. Because he needed to map it out, the differences between the Seeress he followed and the one who stood by his side now. He needed to draw a clear line between the two so that there’d be no confusion. So that, at the end of the day, he knew who was who. At the end of the day, he could be sure which one he preferred over any and all doubt.

He was biased, however.

He’d admit that he was.

Because it was easy to miss what he had lost.

It was easy to miss that which was no longer there. That had disappeared without a trace, like the last cookie in the cookie jar, leaving only crumbs of what used to be behind. So suddenly. So abruptly. So unwantedly. His bias towards who he wanted instead was most likely the reason he was currently shrugging her off again.

For the third time, her hand fell from his arm. For the third time, he saw disappointment cross her face. For the third time, he hadn’t said a single word. He hadn’t even tried to explain himself. Because the third time’s the charm. Because she could read his thoughts anyway, couldn’t she?

It was obvious: why he evaded her touch.

It made him uncomfortable. It felt unnatural. It felt wrong. It wasn’t what her highness would usually do. In fact, not once had she laid her hands on him. Even when they walked together. Even if she tripped and her body would instinctively reach out to stop her fall, grabbing onto anything it could. Even when they were alone together, for whatever reason. Even then, not once had she even tried to touch him since the first day they met – when his hand shook her own.

And, it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough for him to memorize how it felt. How the tips of her fingers to the palm of her hands felt. He had never wanted it so much before. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind before. But, now, it was there. Stuck to him like glue. Like a childish piece of paper on his back he couldn’t reach that said, “Kick Me.” He wanted to know how his highness’s hand felt. He wanted to know just as Tao knew. Tao, who didn’t have to feel like he did now. As though he were being robbed of something every time the woman at his side now tried to latch onto him.

A wolf wore the mask of the person he sought out. A wolf who, as he had seen earlier, couldn’t get enough. A wolf to whom physical contact was an addiction. An addiction she couldn’t break. An addiction Sehun saw no reason to cater to.

It annoyed him. She annoyed him with the way she neglected the feelings of others. Of Chen. Of himself. Of herself. Of her highness trapped within her. And yet, he could see it. He could see why such a persona as herself had been labeled the “Seeress” persona.

The Seeress of Exo was kind. Beautiful. Charismatic. Gallant. Intelligent. Quick-witted. And, most of all, superior. Superior to all people whose paths crossed with her own. Tradition wrote her to be this way. Tradition was the bodiless entity he witnessed on his walk here with her.

She greeted each Exotian who acknowledged her with a smile like lavender, as soft on the eyes as the scented herb was on the nose. Kind and beautiful. She stopped at more than three different stores, buying snacks and the like from the owners. Even though they insisted she need not pay, she convinced them otherwise with a single utterance of, “I cannot take from you without giving anything back.” Charismatic and courteous. She joked with the children who approached her, excited beyond belief to see her, reacting to their childish ways with ease. Not a single comment of how much better she looked on holovision caused her to falter. Intelligent and quick-witted.

And, last but not least, a sense of superiority flitted about her.

Her title seemed to gush out from her pours, as she was not a face among millions but a single face amongst the blue. Amongst the green. Amongst the reds and the blues and the yellows, she was there. She was the only one who existed in her land which lay beneath the equator. And yet, she was smiling.

A real smile.

She acted as though it were just another day. Just another day in which the rain had long since dried, the sun peaking through the white clouds above because it couldn’t look on at her directly. Because she was shining too brilliantly already that if its rays hit her now, the sun itself would be blinded.

This is where he started. This is where he began to chart the map labeled “Parts Unknown.” This is where he began to draw the equator with a thick black line, separating two halves from each other. Two halves whose conditions may have matched the closer to this black line they got, but still, still, each one held control over one of two poles: North and South.

This is where he started, their destination always and forever that flowerbed overlaying the subway station entrance in Sector A of the city.

This is where he began.

This is where he ended.

“Yesterday, she couldn’t bring herself to smile.” He spoke to her, a distance of a few feet separating them because he didn’t want to be robbed of anything else. “She wasn’t able to openly express her feelings as she usually does. Even as we stood right here, in this very spot. Even as Exotians passed by, she wasn’t herself.”

He was talking about her highness. Her highness, who he never thought of as beautiful or especially intelligent. Her highness, whose title was the only thing he found domineering about her, her person herself much too humble for her own good. Her highness, who, as she came closer and closer to the equator, was kind. Selfless. Respectful. Grateful. Gallant. Playful. Quick-witted. Sarcastic to a fault. And, most of all, obvious.

She was obvious to him.

Her feelings were crystal clear, a great barrier reef whose each and every nook and cranny he could see even from a plane hundreds of thousands of miles up in the sky.

Because she was honest.

Because she was honest, she wasn’t able to smile truly and surely despite it all.

She couldn’t hide herself. She couldn’t shove it all down and endure it. She couldn’t pretend everything was okay because she would always fail miserably.

It angered him to see her fake smile.

But, at the same time, he liked it.

Because it meant that she wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t traditional. She was anything but.

So then, he was complimenting her. Beneath his harsh words that sounded as though he were scolding her, as though he couldn’t have been more disappointed, laid bountiful, boundless compliments. She didn’t understand. “She.” The woman at his side now. She didn’t see the beauty behind a fake smile. The significance of such a thing that was one of many which fueled his bias.

“It’s odd, isn’t it?” She started, slowly, eyes trained on the flowerbed in front of them, “How can someone who receives so much give so little in return? If she can’t even manage to return smiles with fervor, how will she protect those same smiles? How can she say she earned those same smiles on her own?” She looked to him now, as though expecting him to agree with her easily. As though everything she was saying was common sense. “It’s odd, isn’t it? Someone who receives such a great gift fails to appreciate it as much as they should, even when they take their last breath.” Her tongue flicked against the top of , clicking against her teeth, creating a sound that screeched against his ear like nails on a chalkboard, “How ungrateful.”

And that last sentence, that single comment, set him off. He had been putting up with it until now: this different, unfamiliar “Seeress of Exo.” But, that was it. That snapped the rope that was stretched under pressure, hanging on by a single thread.

Because, yes, the ability to pretend nothing is wrong is endearing.

But, he found the inability to do the same thing much more so.

He didn’t care if he was called selfish. He wouldn’t argue against the fact that he didn’t want the company of the woman who currently stood by his side. He wanted the companionship of the one who used to. The one who was in there somewhere, hiding for whatever reason. Taking the children’s game of “Hide and Seek” to the extreme. Making him crazier by the second as he searched for her endlessly, only to end up with nothing. Not a single trace of her. Not here. Not there. Not anywhere.

He was beyond crazy.

But, he’d never regret his impulsive next words. Because he always said how he felt, no matter what. No matter who. Fake “Seeress of Exo” or not. He only hoped the real one would hear him. That in her hiding place, despite his harsh, less than thought out words, she’d be listening as attentively as always. That she’d able to tell.

She’d be able to tell how much he missed her.

“Are you not the one borrowing her body right now? Are you not the one who took her over whether she wanted it or not? The conditions that proceeded how you did it don’t matter to me. You’re taking advantage of her.” He continued on, unabashed by the expression he was pulling from her, “You say you’re the Seeress of Exo to those who pass by. I’ve never heard something more hilarious in my life. You’re simply a thief who came in the night and stole everything away from her. Her achievements. Her legend in the making. Her face. Her eyes. Her smile. Her touch.” And Sehun casted the woman he didn’t know, who he didn’t want to know, one last, empty, impassive glance before he left her there in front of the flower bed he adored more than anything, “How ungrateful.”

This is where he began.

This is where he ended.

He refused to draw a map of sights he found distasteful. Of sounds he found unpleasant. Of a touch that left him repulsed. He sailed away on his sterling ship, far away from those lands he still didn’t know, that he no longer wanted to know. And he didn’t look back once.

It was to be expected. The reaction he received upon returning to the Hall of the Guardians was to be expected. He had left her there, after all. He had left the body of her highness in that other woman’s clutches, leaving no one else to look after her. He himself had realized this halfway through his walk back home. But, he was too stubborn to turn back. He was too childish to admit he had made a mistake because, honestly, he didn’t feel like he did.

Still, his arrogance was viewed as his mistake.

His current blasé attitude about it all was why Xiumin and Baekhyun were currently questioning him, metaphorically shining down a single spotlight on him. As though he were a criminal being held for questioning. As though the thief in her body wasn’t the real criminal here. 

“This isn’t funny, Sehun.” Xiumin’s sharp brows furrowed downwards, white condensation leaving his lips in the form of a small, smoky white wisp. Tao laid a steady hand on him, his fingertips prickling with the feeling of hundreds of tiny needles as a result.

“Calm down, please.” He urged him. Xiumin’s ability over ice may have had little effect on his body itself but that didn’t mean that eventually, he wouldn’t start to feel the same sensation Tao was. The sensation that was akin to having his entire body dipped into the Artic Ocean.

“Why would you just leave her there?” Baekhyun breathed out heavily, disbelief with Sehun’s impulsive manner hitting an all time high, “That may not be her highness but it’s still her body. She’s still in there somewhere. What if something happens? What if the Council tries to do something? Did you even stop to think about that for a single second?”

“I did.” He nodded his head, only to shrug non-committedly right after, “but then I decided I didn’t care.” He didn’t care what happened to the woman in control of his highness’s body.

He truly didn’t.

But, he was sure she did. That woman wouldn’t let anything happen. She was living it up to the point in which she didn’t even seem to give the idea of leaving a single thought. She wouldn’t let anything happen to the body she now occupied – the only one she had. That’s what stalled Sehun as he pivoted on his heel over ten minutes ago, about to run back to her as all the questions Baekhyun now asked him ran through his head. That’s what stopped him from going back for her in the end. 

“Where did you leave her?” Baekhyun questioned, moving to walk past him. Moving to go to her himself. Because he had felt it first hand. He had felt the wrath of the Council himself. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but then, at that point in time, they still needed him. His abilities made him useful to them. They’d only be putting themselves at a disadvantage if they lost him. They’d only be putting themselves at an advantage should something happen to her highness. No matter how much it would effect the Council’s standing in the long run, there was no way they were going to so easily ignore their chance to injure her.

Not when she was alone at last, not a single Guardian at her side.

The thought scared him and had Sehun not answered his question, he would have blindly left for the city anyway.

“By the subway station.” Sehun dismissively answered, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Sector A.”

Baekhyun looked up to the ceiling above him, yelling out in urgency, “Luhan, is she still there?”

“There is no need to leave, Baekhyun.” Luhan answered him immediately, his voice echoing from the walls around them, the source of it unknown.

Baekhyun’s confusion was also expected as he yelled right back, “What do you mean by that?” And this time, his inquiry went unheard, Luhan remaining quiet in response. He called out again, his pitch so clear, his tone so high, his voice must have been heard, “Luhan?”

“Calm down, please.” Tao repeated again, as though chanting a mantra to himself. As though the words were for himself and himself alone.

“Baekhyun. It’s fine. I’m here.”

And Baekhyun froze, as though Xiumin had been the cause.

And Luhan’s words made sense.

And Sehun’s prediction had been correct.

Because there she was, the woman in her highness’s body. There she was, fine as can be. As though all was right in the world, a smile was on her face. Her hands were politely held in front of her. Her shoulders straight. Her hair neatly in place. Perfect posture. Perfect mannerisms. A perfect smile.

And he hated it.

Sehun hated the sight.

He wanted to force her shoulders down. To run his fingers through her hair with the intention of creating a new home for any birds looking to settle. To move her hands apart, because no one but Lay looked natural doing that.

He made sure to. He made sure to do at least one of these things before he left, though he refused to touch her. He refused to give her gratification in doing so as with a single huff of air from his lips, he sent a whirlwind ruffling through her locks. And there it was, in an instant, the bird’s nest he had looked to create.

With a victorious smile, with his hands in his pockets, with a blank, impassive expression, he left.

Sehun left, only one destination in mind that almost anyone could have predicted, leaving behind the ungrateful woman whose hands worked at her hair with an annoyed expression on her face.

“Really now, Sehun?” She disapprovingly shook her head, twisting a strand through the tips of her fingers as she massaged it back down into place, “Throwing a temper tantrum, are you? You'd think you’re a mere child.”

This prompted Tao’s departure, who couldn’t look on at her for a second longer. Who couldn’t listen to his highness’s voice being used to say such words in such a way any longer. Who decided then he’d look for the Guardian who had left the Hall after breakfast this morning, because surely he’d be able to help. Surely, that thundercloud who understood her highness better than anyone – a fact that was too obvious to pretend not to notice – could help.

With only a motionless Baekhyun and much more mobile Xiumin left with her, it was Xiumin who took to his duties, his mind working, his body shifting, his lips moving, for the person he couldn’t see instead of the one he could.

“I’ll walk you back to your room—“ Xiumin began, only to stop. Only to reroute himself, because this wasn’t the person whose title he would call fondly. So, with a clearing of his throat, he ended with an awkward, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

And that was that.

She followed Xiumin away from Baekhyun. Baekhyun, who was unresponsive to the goodbye she uttered. Baekhyun, who, only when she was out of sight, clarified her statement. Only then did he correct the statement she had declared so boldly earlier.

“No. It’s not fine. You’re not here, your highness.”

Honestly, Kai had his doubts about this. The likelihood of its success was – as Luhan said – debatable. The chances of him being able to get through to her, to where her highness slept within the depths of her subconscious, were slim to none. But, they existed.

And, if they existed, that gave him enough reason to try.

That gave him enough reason to attempt that which he and the other Guardians – minus the still missing Chen – agreed upon while her highness was out with Sehun. To attempt to knock her out of what he knocked her into using that same piece of paper. That same picture of that man and woman: her parents.

Getting to the root of the trauma, understanding the origin of what caused her to recede control to the Seeress Persona, may be the key to getting her back. Her highness had pyshcological wounds that would never heal if they simply let her remain as she was. If they simply let her hide from it all, she could continue to do so.

Days would turn into weeks. Weeks would turn into months. Months would turn into years. And soon, she’d be gone. As though she were never there, she’d disappear into thin air.

That’s what they believed.

And Kai, who always considered himself to be the only one with the ability to do just that, wasn’t going to let her use his power so easily. Both figuratively and literally, he wouldn’t let her disappear. And, if she did, if she ended up slipping through the cracks, if she ended up gone with the wind like a spec of dust, if she ended up fading to black, leaving nothing of herself behind, he’d find her. He’d find her and bring her back.

Right now, this very night, he was determined to find her and bring her back.

Right now, selflessness ruled him, leaving no room for selfish thoughts to roam. No matter what he may or may not have felt for her other persona, nothing good could come of that other woman being out all the time. Nothing good could come of the free reign she supplied her hands and her smile. No matter how strong she was. No matter how charismatic she was. No matter how apt she was in dealing with ill-favored situations, she couldn’t stay.

No matter how much he would have liked her to in the past. No matter how loud that whisper in the back of his head was that told him this was what he wanted, she couldn’t stay.

Her dull, captivatingly deep gaze. Her soft, yet stern smile. Her magnetic aura.

She couldn’t stay.

As though he were stating a fact, he repeated this over and over in his head. As though he were trying to convince himself of it, he repeated this over and over in his head. Over and over and over as he watched her now, sitting on the bed that, technically, didn’t belong to her. Wearing nightclothes that weren’t hers. Occupying a body that wasn’t hers to use.

She couldn’t stay.

She ran her thumb across the picture, pressing her pad against the man’s jaw. With heavy lidded eyes as she looked up at him, drooping eyelids whose cause was unknown to him, she posed a question to him. Another question. At this point in time, Kai felt as though that’s all he had. No answers. Merely questions. Questions waiting to be answered. And yet, questions that would never be answered.

“So then, you want me to tell you what this means to me?” He nodded; remaining rooted in his place three feet in front of her, closeness his enemy when they were alone.  “What this means to us?” But, that look she was giving him. The way her voice said his name, as though she were embracing that one syllable with her entire being. The three foot distance became two without him realizing it. Or, maybe he did realize it. Maybe he thought acknowledging it would put him at an utter disadvantage. That, if he admitted he got closer of his own volition, he’d lose against himself. He’d fail the other eleven Guardians who were counting on him. “Kai?”

“Yes.” He managed to say, hastily, because getting anything else out required him to gulp down and dig his feet deeper. To plant himself further into the ground. To not lose his focus that acted on him like gravity. “I do. I want to know why you came out in the first place.”

“Do you not like me?”

What? Why did she ask that? Why would she ask that? Did she know? Did she know how flustered he would become when she did? How stuck he’d be, caught in the trap he had set up on his own, if she asked that?

Still, he couldn’t.

Still, she couldn’t.

“That has nothing to do with this.”

And her pink-tinted lips curved ever upwards then, her soothing voice speaking through a smile, “So, you do like me?” She averted her eyes from him, looking back down at the picture in her hand. She sighed, heavily, disappointed, pain twisting at him more than her due to her next words, “At least someone does.”

And she stood up from the bed, moving past him, causing him to hold his breath. To hold it as her shoulder nudged against his own, the smell of shampoo threatening to penetrate his nose. Threatening to have him digging his own hole deeper and deeper and deeper. He held his breath, following from a safe distance, as she neared the fireplace in the room.

The flickering lights of the flames which burned brightly within their confines sent an entire palate of reds and oranges and yellows dancing across her face, “She couldn’t handle it.” She sighed again, except, it was different this time. It was one of exasperation. One of frustration. One of annoyance. “The truth. The ugly reality of it all.”

She was playing games with him. She wasn’t answering his questions in the least. She was traipsing around them at her leisure, and he couldn’t do anything to stop her. He couldn’t do anything to stop what she did next, the distance he had put between himself and her too large. Too large to overtake. Too large to close within such a limited amount of time.

“But, I can.” Her eyes looked to him, through him, something her highness had never done before, “I can handle all of it. Everything.” She held the photo in between her fingers tightly, lips pursed as a third and final sigh left her. A third and final opportunity to stop that which she had intended to do from the very beginning, as soon as Kai had passed over to her the one thing that threatened her very existence, “Anything.”

And, like ripping off an old band-aid, quick, painlessly, she ripped it. Right down the middle. Like nails on a chalkboard, the sound screeched against his ears, drumming against his head. The damage had been done without hesitation or even a single ounce of remorse. The damage was done a second time, the one piece that had become two becoming four, at the mercy of her slim fingers.

And Kai watched her do it, too stunned to move.

Too far to do a single thing.

Too far to stop the destruction of that which he had found with great difficulty.

Too far to prevent her from doing what he should have done with it in the first place before it ever made it into the hands of her highness this morning.

Like discarded trash, she threw all four pieces into the flames before her. The fire sputtered out embers as the image became white. And then, black. Black ash was all that precious item was now. Mere specs of what it used to be. A forgotten memory lost to the flames of time, to the fiery pit of those that rather not remember. That rather stay, even if they couldn’t.

She hugged her arms, rubbing her exposed skin as she watched on, her intentions clear once more, “Out of sight, out of mind.”

She wasn’t going anywhere.

Hopes of her highness’s return slipped through the cracks.

And, Kai wasn’t sure he’d be able to find her anymore. 

A/N: 

I had to resist myself from naming this chapter, "Sehun Gives the Big Middle Finger, No s Were Given That Day." But, I resisted temptation sucessfully. He reminds me of two different characters I write in my other stories (Particularly because something he says mimics what one of them has said exactly. Because I think it suited the situation quite aptly). Speaking of which, click here if you click nothing else! Read it if you read nothing else! It pertains to all of you, you know? To all of you, whom I hope are no longer confused regarding what has happened. To all of you, who are my wonderful readers I adore. To all of you, who I hope enjoyed this long chapter of mine! Because, come on, wasn't it just oh-so-long? I fell asleep editing it at least thrice.

Thrice!