Crispy leaves stir underneath his feet. Thin strips of sunlight break through slits of larch and pine, painting the pampas gold. The plants speak their own language, yet still manage to say Sunday in every crinkle and fallen leaf.

He strides briskly, determined steps crushing grass and soil under his worn leather sneakers.

Lu Han spins, throwing a shallow glance over his shoulder. The forest is laced with calm, eliciting a barbed restlessness in his bones. The entrance to the forest is nowhere to be seen, so he continues walking.

He gives the backwoods a bitter stare before crossing his arms.

Somewhere a bluebird sings.

Lu Han’s parents are paying respects to a temple nearby. Their first family trip on Korean soil was to the Jeju Islands. Lu Han had bowed his head, chanted the prayers, and hightailed out of there as soon as humanly possible. He headed straight for the woods, past shrubbery, thorns and lazy shade. He flitted away from the watchful eyes of daylight.

He kicks at a rock, sending it skittering along the trail. Forests in Seoul are no different from the ones in China, but Lu Han finds things to dislike in every tree and bush. His mood only seems to worsen the longer he walks.

After all, it’s never his wish to leave Beijing. Lu Han was perfectly content there, with his neighborhood friends and soccer tournaments. He was about to start his senior year of high school when his father dropped the bomb; a job offer in Seoul, South Korea. Afterwards, there wasn't much Lu Han could do.

So now he’s stuck in Seoul, feet on unsteady ground as summer bleeds into autumn. Lu Han frowns, and combs his hair back with thin fingers.

His mind is racing with vivid scenarios and painful images when something solid blocks the path. Lu Han halts, momentarily shaken from his daydream, and his eyes fall on the object.

A large statue sits in the center of the road. It's rugged and craggy--- a mass of sturdy stone. Shaped like a man, the statue is all brutal nose, broad lips and spongy mushroom hat. It’s a Tol-harubang, meant to ward off evil spirits. An involuntary shiver buzzes through Lu Han’s spine.

A look past the statue reveals that there are more of them. From the point where Lu Han stands, a string of Tol-harubangs line the trail ahead. Lu Han wonders briefly why this one is in the road, and not on the side like the others. He gives it a skeptical glare.

"Whatever," he huffs, and moves forward to avoid the statue.

●

The woods grow thicker from then on. Less and less sunlight filters past the treetops, and Lu Han finds himself in darkness as it envelops him in a blanket of seaweed green. He's been wandering around for more or less thirty minutes, yet pairs of statues continue to mark the way every ten feet ahead. Lu Han refrains from looking at them because they give him an eerie sensation. Between cracks of larch and pine, he slowly comes to realize he’s lost.

Lu Han contemplates turning around. His parents should be done praying. No good will come out of him losing his way.

As he’s about to turn back, another statue becomes visible in the distance. Lu Han tilts his head, noting its center position, it seems to be marking the end to the seemingly endless row of Tol-harubangs, and perhaps the road too.

As he walks up to it, his gaze lands on empty eyes. Is it just him, or does the statue look resentful...? Its hands are extended, palms facing Lu Han.

A gust of wind blows through the forest. The trees shake, sending a cascade of leaves raining down on him. Lu Han hugs himself as cold seeps into him. He averts his eyes from the statue, focusing on the road instead.

If he squints, he can make out something in the distance. Lu Han's curiosity perks up. He shuffles past the Tol-harubang without another look, and strides eagerly through the leaves.

Soon it becomes obvious that Lu Han is staring at a gate. Two long poles are painted a deep ruby, standing parallel to each other, connected by another pair of poles at the top. Lu Han watches in awe at the spiked sticks that seem to reach for the treetops. He's seen gates like these before because they're common near Chinese temples too.

What spikes Lu Han's interest most is the layer of mist hovering by the posts. It's transparent, almost like a shadow, and it writhes and turns along the gate. Lu Han takes a step forward, eyes glazed with interest. What is this? Some kind of weather phenomenon?

Forgetting both fear and apprehension, Lu Han crosses the distance between himself and the gate. He steps into a loose ivory veil, extending a hand to feel it on his skin. Like smoke, it evades Lu Han's touch, sifting through scrawny fingertips. The mist sinks deeper, passing the gate, and Lu Han follows it instinctively.

As his feet carry him past the threshold, the world starts spinning.

He wobbles on his feet, even as a sick sensation claws at his insides. Lu Han reaches for the gate, for something to steady him, but finds purchase in nothing. The poles are gone, the forest turns bleak, and soon his vision goes out like a candle. Lu Han gasps as the ground underneath flips, and screams as he falls along with it.

●

Soft greenery cushions his fall.

Lu Han lands in a bed of grass. When his eyes open, they fall on the endless stretch of sapphire overhead. His breath still comes in short gasps, and Lu Han cradles his heart with a trembling hand - an attempt to appease its stuttering beat.

Leaves crinkle faintly as Lu Han lifts his body back up. Sitting upright, he stares at the scenery ahead.

A vast, grassy field extends in front of him. Fields of gold and the blue of the sky paint a complex picture. Somewhere in the distance a mountain can be seen, its top grazing diamond clouds melting away.

Lu Han sits on the outskirts of a forest. Farther away, he sees a weary road winding messily down the hill as it cuts the golden field in two.

Up ahead, there is smoke sifting lazily, rising up and blending easily in with the fluffy clouds.

A branch cracks in the background.

Lu Han spins. A prickling sensation crawls slowly up his neck. It tickles the roots of his hair, and he massages it hard as he stares into the forest a few meters behind him. It feels like someone's watching him. His eyes narrow dangerously, and he wonders idly where the culprit is. Lu Han tries deciphering what is tree and what might be person, but soon resigns with a frustrated sigh. Everything blends into one here, making observation a hard task. Lu Han's gaze falls back on the gate, it stands firmly right next to him.

He lets his hand run down the gate's pole. It feels cold and smooth under his touch. The gate is here, the forest, too, but Lu Han instinctively knows he's traveled farther than the forest behind the shrine.

The strong wind lays grass flat against the ground. Lu Han covers his face with his sleeve. It feels like a sign for him to go home. He's tired, weary, his feet smell, but Lu Han still finds his curiosity spark and light like a newly lit candle.

Abandoning all plans of retreating, he rises and ventures down the crummy road.

Bugs and insects in every color swish around him. The lower the sun dips, the more of them awaken. Lu Han's body becomes a tasty rest-stop for hungry mosquitoes. Their buzzing is a constant soundtrack in his mind as he trudges down the road. He swears every time one lands, and swings his limbs to fight them off.

His eyes land on a particularly huge dragonfly, and Lu Han shrieks, coming face to face with the 10-eyed monster.

"," He wheezes, jolts, and whips the bug off, before sprinting down the remainder of the road. He keeps smoothing down his sweater, but stops abruptly when he sees what’s in front of him.

A great village stretches out before him. Lu Han's mouth falls open.

The valley beneath him grows lush and green, but in between the crops sits a village. The tilted roofs are of traditional, smooth, onyx style, and countless rows of cinnamon buildings are littered along the wilderness. A sturdy wall surrounds them; effectively fencing the community in. Lu Han squints, making out what he thinks could be a marketplace in the center.

Sunset stains the village with the colors of honey and wine. Luminous dots of fireflies materialize, sifting lazily from building to building. Their light guides Lu Han closer.

"Amazing," he breathes. Scrawny fingers dig into knees as he catches his breath. The sun sits low on the horizon but still manages to burn him. He rubs the irritated skin, throws an uncertain look over his shoulder, and re-ties his sneakers. Lu Han then skids down the slope, kicks up dirt and rocks and debris, and coughs aggressively as he stumbles along the trail. He barely manages to catch himself from tripping over a jagged crag.

As the dust settles around him, Lu Han steps through the gate. There's a name plate at the top, but the wood is worn, so it’s impossible to see what was once written.

Lu Han treads slowly.

His drowsy feet carry him between the buildings. He finds himself both curious and a little afraid. In spite of smoke rising from several chimneys nearby, Lu Han finds no villagers. Looking up, he even spots a string of brightly lit lanterns making its way from roof to roof. Its red hue illuminates the ground eerily, making Lu Han shiver.

Several restaurants line the road ahead. Lu Han passes them all, ignoring the way his nose picks up the smells of tempting delicacies. Stand upon stand surround Lu Han as he trudges over the gruel. The lanterns stretch from one to another, lighting the way ahead for him.

The marketplace is filled to the brim with groceries: cabbages, cucumbers, potatoes, spinach, and chili peppers. There are sturdy stands dedicated to meat as well. Lu Han spots an array of fresh galbi, and its heavenly scent makes him stumble. It smells so good Lu Han covers his nose. His stomach does a rebellious lurch, but it somehow feels wrong to eat when no one is around to charge him for it.

"Hello?" Lu Han’s voice echoes through the village. It sounds abnormally shrill, nothing like the usual confidence he sports. It slings from wall to wall until it dies somewhere far away.

He wades tiredly through the remains of the village, passing wooden buildings with slow movements. His excitement starts to dab away now. Lu Han walks until he reaches a bridge.

Its bright crimson color is almost too much for his eyes. His dirty sneakers pause at the border between ground and wood, eyes scanning the road ahead. The bridge slopes upwards, and giant poles line the edges. Another trail of lanterns sling from pole to pole, ending in a very familiar gate. Lu Han gapes.

The ruby spiked gate stands before him, an exact copy of the one he entered earlier. He takes a step forward, and the sun goes down in the horizon.

A buzz fills the air.

Lu Han whirls around, eyes falling on the village behind him. His breath catches in his throat.

The lanterns shine brightly, and even more lights are popping up in the buildings around him. The fireflies have multiplied, and are aglow with the gift of night.

Yellows and reds explode in front of him like fireworks on New Year’s, and he probably would've liked it if it wasn't for the shadows that have come alive simultaneously.

Thousands of shadows are rising from the ground. Out of nowhere they stand, as if summoned by the emerging lights. At first they look like ordinary shades, cast by objects and buildings and marketplace stands, but then they start moving. They wriggle erratically, before rising from the ground, sprouting arms and transparent faces. Lu Han stumbles backward. Unluckily, his shoe gets stuck in a rift in the middle of the bridge. He topples over, hardly noticing the way his stings at the impact.

A thought tugs at him. His mind is laced with panic, but somewhere his reason calls.

If there is a time to go home, it’s now.

Spurred on by this impulse, Lu Han gets up, and sprints away from the bridge. Abandoning all doubts, he plunges into the village.

Fireflies whirl away as Lu Han skids down the road.

A family of shadows wave at him, beckoning him closer with their transparent fingers. He swears he spots a smile on one of their faces.

He passes shadow upon shadow in his rush to escape. His shoes slap against the gravel, and a high-pitched squeak escapes him when his body flies through a shadow. It’s like a rush of ice cold water. It turns around and waves angrily at him, but Lu Han continues.

He rounds a corner and knocks over a vegetable stand. A flurry of carrots and cucumbers fly everywhere, but Lu Han manages to narrowly duck to avoid being hit. By the time the vegetables have fallen to the ground, Lu Han is three corners ahead.

The shadows squeal louder around him as he runs. Lu Han covers his face.

He needs to get away, he needs to get away right now.

At last he dives out the entrance. He doesn't even catch his breath before climbing the steep hill and flying through the field ahead.

His breath comes in ragged gasps whenever he inhales, but he finally reaches the spiked gate. It stands calmly before him; a stark contrast to the way Lu Han's heart drums in his chest.

He prays.

He never prays, but he does now. He prays loudly and sincerely and swears he’ll never miss a temple visit again.

With feet made of jelly, Lu Han saunters through the gate. He closes his eyes and begs for the world to flip and turn and swallow him up, to bring him back home.

The world still stands solid when his eyes reopen. Lu Han sinks to the ground. His head fills with panic and an uncanny fear for his sanity. He rubs his face, calloused fingers stretching dirty skin. He pinches himself experimentally, hoping against hope that maybe it's a dream, maybe he fell asleep in the car, and he just has to pinch himself to wake back up. His dad will be mad and his mom will scold him, but Lu Han won't mind.

He'd give anything to breathe the smothering air inside their BMW right now.

It seems Lu Han is fresh out of hope, though. He gathers the rest of his strength and crawls over to the gate. His fingers are damp with moist from the grass, but he wipes them off on his shorts and leans against the pole. His sleepy eyes stare emptily at the village. Fireflies surround it like a veil of flame. It's b with life now, the buzzing so loud Lu Han can still hear it.

He sighs and wishes to never to see a shade again in his life. He thinks it's not so weird to be scared of your shadow after all.

"What are you doing here?"

A voice pierces through the stillness. Lu Han jumps so aggressively his head slams into the pole. He turns his head in angry astonishment.

Among the trees stands a man. He dons a teal gwanbok. The thick sleeves swallow his wrists, giving the man a stern look. A wide, multicolored belt keeps the gwanbok together on his waist. The fabric is ripped near the ends, and the sturdy material is seemingly unaffected by the wind.

The stranger stands unnaturally still in the outskirts of the woods.
His face is flat, eyes lazy, and his hair so blond it might as well have been white. Lu Han stares, mouth agape, and feels his fear spike when the man walks toward him. The tip of his gomusin are visible when he strides, and Lu Han idly wonders why he's noticing the stranger's shoes right now.

"I said," the stranger speaks, "What are you doing here?" He stops a foot away from Lu Han, and the narrow eyes stare right at him.

"You don't belong here," the man says threateningly. Lu Han swallows around the lump in his throat.

"Um," Lu Han wets his lips, "I’m lost? I came here by accident? I don't know where I am-" He trips over the words, searching for a way to eloquently explain why he's camping near a spiked temple gate all on his own.

Before he finds the answer, a pair of hands land on his shoulders. They shake him hurriedly, and the stranger is alive with haste, as he stares at Lu Han, eyes filled with unmasked frenzy.

"You can't be here!" The hands shake Lu Han, punctuating each word.
"The Demon King will take you!" The stranger shakes, shakes, shakes.

"You must go home!" Shake.

Lu Han grows dizzy, dizzy and confused, and he extends his arms, trying a forceful shove at the stranger.

His arms shoot right through the man. Lu Han's fingers stick out the back, hands piercing the mossy gwanbok in front of him. He gapes, and tumbles backward.

The stranger backs off, as Lu Han gawks at his wrists in dismay.

"I'm transparent," He croaks, turning his palms from side to side, panic bubbles as the grass under him slowly becomes visible through his skin.

"I'm turning invisible!" Lu Han almost chokes on the words. He rubs at the skin in a manic attempt to undo catastrophe, but every second that ticks by makes him more and more see-through.

"You're disappearing," The stranger comments. Before Lu Han knows it, the man crouches next to him and a pale hand closes around his wrist. Lu Han feels the other's skin, but there's no strength in it. The skinny fingers catch on nothing but air. Lu Han is about to disappear. His heart sinks like stone.

"You need to eat something of this world," the pale boy continues. Lu Han is about to inform the man he can shove this world where the sun don't shine, but when his eyes move to his target, the stranger is gone. Lu Han wants to scream and shout and blame every misfortune in his life on this person, but there's no one to yell at.

An uncharacteristic feeling overwhelms him. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and the only thing he can do is turn his hands and stare at the caterpillar he sees through them.

"Here," a voice says, and Lu Han does a violent jump. The tears that threaten to fall are blinked away in anger, and he stares at the suspicious fruit that's presented to him. The stranger has extended his hand and a flush plum rests on it.

"You need to eat it, or else you'll disappear," the man says. His eyebrows are knit. Lu Han throws another glance at his transparent hand, and promptly shoves the plum into his mouth. It tastes like sweets and summer.

Lu Han buries his head in his arms, willing the tingling to disappear. A rustle of fabric reveals that the stranger sits down next to him. They sit in silence for a while, but then a hand lands heavily on Lu Han's shoulder. He peeks out from between his arms.

"See?" The man next to him says, a smile teasing the corners of his pale lips. "You're okay now."

Lu Han attempts a smile, but only manages to twist his lips sourly at the corners. His hands are still shaking like a quivering leaf, yet he somehow manages to stand upright. His eyes are trained on the stranger, who's clutching his arm defensively. Those slanted eyes stare resolutely at the village in the distance. Lu Han swallows harshly, a feeble attempt at killing the lump in his throat.

"Come," the stranger commands. He grabs Lu Han's shoulder, thin fingers catching him firmly. "It's past midnight; you won't be able to go home tonight." Lu Han focuses on the boy's canines as he speaks, almost missing the meaning of his words.

"Wait, what?" He gasps, as he finds himself pulled back down the hill. "Why not?" Lu Han prods, feet shuffling awkwardly down the trodden path.

Night has settled firmly around them, the golden fields are now silent and subdued. A single cicada sings tirelessly in the distance.

"The gate closes at night," the stranger explains. He swiftly navigates Lu Han down the hill, and they find themselves in front of the village once more, a lot quicker than last time. It's night, but the lanterns continue to illuminate the village in an eerie, red hue. Lu Han shivers, and takes a step backward.

"I'm not going back in there," he deadpans, hugging himself with skinny arms.

The stranger seems to have caught on to his uncertainty, and before Lu Han knows what's happened, he is slammed into the rugged wall, back first. The complaint dies on his tongue as his gaze meets the stranger's.

"You have no choice," the man says. His blond locks are caught in the late night breeze, and his fingers dig painfully into Lu Han's shoulders.

"I'm Sehun," the stranger offers, and his tone softens. "I know a place you can hide until tomorrow. I'll show you." He nods towards the village. "As long as you stay with me, nothing will happen." He gives Lu Han another piercing look.

"I promise."

-

Lu Han's resolute decision crumbles before his eyes. Before he knows how, he's dragged under the gates and through the village. His feet slap loud against the gravel, it sounds like a resounding echo screaming "abnormality" with every step he takes.

In spite of this, it seems the shadows pay him no more attention. As they pass the stands Lu Han raided earlier, no shades seem bitter over the fruit he spilled. In fact, the stands are back to normal, revealing no sign of any collision.

They pause near the bridge. Its crimson hue is subdued now; the color bleak from the darkness night paints it with. The stranger - no, Sehun, taps Lu Han on the shoulder.

"Things will get a little noisy from here on," he warns, silver eyes scanning Lu Han carefully.

"It's crucial that no one notices you. I have friends in the kitchens, they'll take care of you, but you need to get there unnoticed." His arm falls from Lu Han's shoulder. "I'll arrange a distraction; it should buy you enough time to make it to the kitchens. When you get there, find a boy named Yixing. Tell him Sehun sent you, okay?"

There is no use in objecting. As they cross the bridge with hurried steps, Sehun mutters a detailed description of the building - which is apparently a restaurant - into Lu Han's ear. His hushed voice describes the hallways to pick, which stairs to avoid, and the exact location of the kitchens.

"The Demon King cannot know that you're here," Sehun urges one last time, as they pause before a large, sturdy door. Lu Han's hand is on the hinge, but his eyes follow Sehun suspiciously.

"Who is this Demon King anyway?” Lu Han prods stubbornly. “Why does he get to decide who stays and who goes?"

Sehun only shakes his head, pushing Lu Han forward with his index finger. It traces the small of his back. Lu Han feels infinitely silly for the chills it elicits. Such a small touch.

"Go," Sehun whispers, and then he's gone, a whisk of wind following his trace.

Lu Han scratches his neck and plunges in through the door on his own.

The restaurant is gigantic.

It has so many floors Lu Han can't even begin to count them. The room he enters is tiny and dark, filled with rusty machinery. Steam rises from a round container next to him. It smells foul, and Lu Han covers his nose with a shivering hand. It's unbearably hot, so he marches over the metal floor, trying his hardest to remember where Sehun wanted him to go.

The following rooms are strangely familiar to the first one. A constant thrum of active machinery is Lu Han's soundtrack as he navigates the labyrinth of hallways and storage rooms. He soon becomes painfully aware of how lost he is, and stumbles blindly through painted doors and dusty control rooms.

He eventually encounters people. Lu Han's heart beats obnoxiously in his chest, and as he presses himself flat against a rusty door, he fears the people on the other side will hear it.

Just as he's about to ruefully admit that he is indeed lost, the sound of knives being sharpened reaches his ears. His nose is the second sense to catch up, and the overwhelming scent of freshly cooked meat hits him right in the face. Lu Han fiddles with the hem of his shirt for a second, realizing that this is the moment he needs to reveal himself. His resolution falters, and as he stands among boxed cheese and raw vegetables contemplating his next move, a man barges in.

Lu Han's mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air. His round eyes meet the newcomer’s gaze, and they lock on each other, precious seconds tick idly by.

"Hi," Lu Han croaks weakly. He is infinitely relieved at being discovered by a person, and not a shadow, or worse. He thinks he would have a hard time making conversation with something that wasn't solid.

The person in front of him is very solid, and he has brown hair and walnut eyes.

"I need to see Yixing," Lu Han blurts.

"I am Yixing," the boy replies. He's hugging a box in his arms, and it's filled to the brim with bell peppers. His eyes are round, staring unblinkingly at Lu Han.

"Sehun sent me," Lu Han continues. He's running out of lines now, and kind of feels like he's on stage during a school play, trying to stall long enough to find the next thing he's supposed to say.

"But you're a human," the boy named Yixing says. His eyebrows start to knit together into a frown, and Lu Han feels his heart thrash wildly in his chest. If this doesn't work, he's not sure he has a plan B.

Before he has the time to finish that thought, another person slides in behind Yixing. This one is taller, with dark hair and darker skin, and his mouth forms a succession of rapid remarks.

"Yixing, I swear to God, if you keep spacing out like this we'll never get anything --" His eyes fall on Lu Han, and he does a startled jump.

"A human!" He gasps, and golden eyes go big as saucers. The next thing he does is grab Yixing by the shoulders, shaking him so hard the bell peppers spill out of the box.

As they clatter to the ground in soft thumps, Lu Han scratches the back of his arm nervously.

"Why haven't you reported him? If they find out a human is here and that we let it we won't live to see another day!" The taller one seems distressed, and Yixing finally opens his mouth, head shaking slightly.

"Sehun sent him,"

At this, the tall boy suddenly slides down the floor and buries his head in his rough palms.

"Of course he did," he mutters weakly. Lu Han stares, concerned, and it nags him that he's a burden to people he's barely even met.

The man eventually gets up from the floor. After dusting off his already worn garot, he extends a hand at Lu Han. His eyes are fiery and it makes Lu Han's skin itch, but Lu Han accepts the arm anyway.

He's about to let go when the boy pulls him in, a second hand closing around his shoulder. They're so close the boy could kiss him if he wanted to. Lu Han shivers and feels hot breath tickle his skin.

"I'm Jongin," the man says. He looms threateningly over Lu Han. "We're only doing this as a favor to Sehun, so stay sharp and don't cause any trouble." His eyes speak louder than his words, and Lu Han nods erratically in reply.

He then turns and plunges right back into the kitchen. Lu Han gives Yixing a look, but he just promptly deposits the box into a shelf, and takes hold of Lu Han's arm.

As Lu Han is dragged into a myriad of bodies and voices and steam and food, Yixing speaks rapidly.

"The kitchen only has one task," he says, and ducks to avoid being hit by a frying pan. Lu Han mimics the move clumsily, severely out of balance since Yixing is dragging him.

"And that is to deliver food at the right time. That's our main goal. It's a plus if the meal’s edible, but spirits aren’t picky with the dishes," Yixing yanks Lu Han's arm, and in a moment they're pressed against a refrigerator, narrowly escaping the flurry of waiters that rush by.

Lu Han stares in awe at the way silver bowls are balanced along glasses that seem to be too many no matter how long he looks.

He's soon tugged in the opposite direction. Yixing navigates them past cutting boards, freezers, busy stoves and the endless amount of workers that occupy them. Lu Han realizes that the kitchen is huge and his stomach turns at the thought of what will happen if someone notices him. He throws erratic stares from side to side as paranoia slips down his neck.

At last they reach what seems to be Yixing and Jongin's station. A gigantic bundle of meat sits on the counter before them. When Lu Han skids to a halt near the edge, Jongin is already at full work slicing the bits into neat strings.

"Here," Yixing says from Lu Han's left, and the boy drops an apron, plastic gloves and a flimsy hair band in his arms.

Lu Han scrambles to put it on, all the while receiving strict commands from Jongin. With his back facing Lu Han, he barks orders so promptly he almost sounds like the head chef himself.

"Get a knife, grab the meat, slam it on a board, and start hacking," Jongin growls. His hands work at an alarming speed, and now Yixing is next to him, gathering slices on a tired teak plate. He sprints off into the chaos, and Lu Han slides in next to Jongin.

Lu Han’s hands shake as he scrambles for the meat. It's slippery, wet, and smells like the raw food it is. He fumbles with the blade, struggling to get an even line through the obstinate material.

"Don't cut yourself," Jongin grumbles. They're close, and Jongin’s shoulder vibrates whenever he speaks.

Lu Han improves within the next hour. His progress began when he blocked out the noise and minimized its impact on his concentration. Jongin kept telling him what to do, but became less obnoxious the longer they were working.

"So what's up with this demon king?" Lu Han grunts between clenched teeth. They're scurrying through the kitchen in a straight line, hands balancing silver plates filled with delicacies and seasoned wine. Lu Han's stomach growls so brutally he's starting to feel ashamed, so he puts his mind on other things.

Jongin walks effortlessly in front of him, the plates barely sway in his firm hold. The movements are sure and trained, as if he’s done this thousands of times before. He probably has.

His back goes rigid when Lu Han speaks.

"...He's our boss," Jongin finally replies. They set the plates on a smooth counter near the kitchen exit, and hurry back to their station. Lu Han fights hard to keep up with Jongin and Yixing.

"He owns the restaurant and we’re his employees," Jongin continues. He balances a five-course meal in one hand before rushing back down the aisle. Lu Han follows clumsily.

"It's either live or die in this world, you know," A voice from behind says. Yixing holds a myriad of wine glasses aloft, and he walks calmly behind Lu Han in the line.

"You either sign a contract with the Demon King, get fed and live, or you don't, and end up facing assassination or worse," Yixing's face is cheerful, but Lu Han senses a darkness behind that bright smile.

"Not to complain or anything," Lu Han says. "But this job seems pretty… Well, it seems like . What’s the hourly wage?" He put his plates down and Jongin is instantly upon him.

"Don't say like that," He warns, eyes ablaze with rage. He has one hand on Lu Han’s collar, calloused fingers twisting the cotton. Lu Han gulps weakly.

Yixing's hand lands on Lu Han's arm for a second. When Lu Han meets his gaze, it's soft.

"It's just how things work around here," Yixing explains. "Sehun is bound to a contract too, that's why he can't help you right now. We've been friends a long time, so we trust that he wouldn't drop someone on us for no reason,"

Lu Han’s head buzzes with questions and half-formed sentences. They play at the tip of his tongue. The words are restless, but he shoves them back down. Jongin’s eyes are still glazed with darkness, and Lu Han thinks it’s best if he keeps quiet for now.

The kitchen activity slows down eventually, and they lapse into lunch break. Lu Han chews on leftover bread while he takes in his surroundings. The kitchen is monstrous, and all the surfaces are either smooth oak or silver.

The room is shaped like a rectangle, and all along the walls are stoves, refrigerators, freezers and counters. In the middle are stations for washing, packing and arranging. The spaces between the stations are narrow, and Lu Han is surprised no one has slipped and smashed any plates yet. Even more surprised that he hasn't.

Jongin and Yixing sit on a counter behind him. Their feet dangle while they scarf down their lunch. Lu Han suspects lunch break is a brief affair.

He looks around. After a while, he finds himself searching the crowds for Sehun. The man would stick out like a sore thumb here, among kitchen crew clad in sandstone garot, chefs in porcelain aprons and sauce speckled faces.

All at once, Sehun is everywhere. Lu Han sees him in the main chef’s shadow, sniffing spicy sauces, then he’s near a meat station, thin fingers tracing angry, red slices, and if he squints Lu Han spots him in the fluorescent lights of a wide-open refrigerator.

Lu Han’s fright has weakened, but as his eyes search the kitchen for a moss green gwanbok, something under his skin itches restlessly.

●

Their shift lasts a full six hours, and by the time it's over, every muscle in Lu Han's body aches, even ones he didn't know he had.

He follows the line as the kitchen staff scurries out the exit. All the gods have been served now and dawn is approaching. Lu Han treads behind Jongin, who’s kept quiet since their confrontation. Lu Han suspects Jongin isn't a fan of him, but he's too exhausted to care.

His hand clutches weakly at the back of Jongin's uniform.

They slide along a narrow path, crew dragging their feet. Down a long wind of stairs they go, entering a smaller room. Both wall and floor is a pure sepia wood, and the floor is littered with sleeping bags, pillows and discarded pajamas. There's a wardrobe on the far left wall, but Lu Han pays little attention to it. The entire eastern wall is empty, and instead a veranda faces the woods outside. Lu Han stumbles after Yixing.

"Here," Yixing says softly, and hands Lu Han a sleeping bag. It’s red and worn, patched up in several places.

"You can use this one. I'll lend you a garot tomorrow."

Lu Han accepts, and in two short minutes he's shimmied out of his clothes and curled up inside the sleeping bag.

"He's not too bad," he hears Yixing's voice from somewhere close. Someone sighs.
"I know, but it's suicide to stay here. What was Sehun thinking?"

Lu Han wants to listen, but his eyelids are so heavy, and sleep is so inviting. He lets go at last, and falls into a deep slumber.

●

Lu Han is already pretty confused when he awakes at sundown the next day. He faintly remembers dreams of red, spiked gates and living shadows and something about a restaurant, and it takes him a full ten seconds to realize it was more than just a dream.

He doesn't have time to be shocked and panicky about it, because when his eyes open, he stares directly into a pair of round, foreign eyes. By the time this happens, he knows it's neither Yixing nor Jongin.

The new stranger takes a long whiff of Lu Han, and frowns.

"Smells like human," he says, and waves for someone to come closer. Another character steps over Lu Han's sleeping bag and peers down at him. This one is tall and gangly and has very protruding ears.

"Let's take him," he nods.

Lu Han sees nothing of Yixing or Jongin, and he suspects they've been ushered out of the bedroom along with the rest of the employees.

Lu Han is too confused to struggle, and blinks sleepily as he feels the tall man pull him to his feet. Before he knows what's happening, Lu Han is being dragged down a long hallway, restrained by this strange pair.

"The King’s gonna be real pleased with us this time," the tall one says. He holds Lu Han with a firm grip, using the other hand to scratch the back of his head. The shorter man walks ahead of them, and he laughs wickedly as they round a corner.

"Yep, and then we'll get our own squad, and we'll leave this godforsaken place."

Lu Han manages to catch their names - Chanyeol and Baekhyun - before he's thrown into a regal looking room. Countless candles illuminate the somber ground.

"Don't go anywhere, the Demon King wants a chat," the one called Baekhyun says. He leans on a pillar, brandishing a smug look, one Lu Han is starting to hate the longer he's forced to look at it. Chanyeol claps his hands happily before he pulls Baekhyun away.

Lu Han stares after them. It's probably too late to turn back now.

The room is small, but its baroque furnishings make it seem important. Dozens of paintings face him from the walls above. Demons and monsters and supernatural horror glares into Lu Han’s soul. He shudders, averting his eyes. A big door looms over him, and Lu Han puts his hand on the knob. It's golden and has the face of a lion.

"Rude," the doorknob says.

Lu Han flinches, screams, and retracts his hand. The door swings open regardless, and he finds himself yanked down the following hallway. An unknown and invisible force tugs at his rigid body. He flies through a series of doors that magically open just before he smashes into them.

Just as he's about to keel over from both motion sickness and hysteria, he stops.

As if someone cut the strings from a puppet Lu Han tumbles over, face planting on a majestic wine red rug.

He stays there for a heartbeat, rug scratching his cheek harshly, but he gets to his feet when spoken to.

"Well, well," a nasal voice speaks from above.

Lu Han looks ahead, taking in the midnight room he's standing in. It's vast, somber and there's a fireplace right next to him. Blood red banners are draped along the walls, lining expensive looking statues that stare down at him.

Lu Han gulps weakly, and his eyes fall on a regal desk on the far end of the room. It's filled with papers and books, but among the tomes are suspicious items as well. He squints. Could that be a plate filled with frog legs...?

"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" the voice prods. It's unpleasant, whiny, and takes Lu Han off guard. His mouth opens and closes dumbly.
"You really are rude. The knob was right, what a bore."

As the person arises, the dim light falls on their shape. The creature looks human at first glance, with his solid stature and firm jaw, but something in the way his eyes glint makes Lu Han's belly squirm.

The person wears a black cape and a red gwanbok. Around his neck is a chain made of silver. It glints ominously every time the man moves

Lu Han thinks this must be the Demon King. He also thinks he's in trouble.

"You're a scrawny thing," the Demon King comments as he walks toward Lu Han. "From what I heard I expected someone a little more... capable." A smug grin plays around the older man's lips. His wrinkled skin is so pale it looks sickly.

"I ought to kill you right now," he drawls. "Or maybe turn you into a shade. You have seen those, no? The ones who live outside this restaurant? Pleasant bunch, very obedient. They can only exist after sundown after all."

The Demon King stands in front of Lu Han now. A sickening stench rolls off him. It’s like a mixture of raw, expired meatloaf and freshly forged plastic. It invades Lu Han’s nostrils, scent stinging his sense like a particularly strong spearmint gum. Lu Han's eyes grow glassy and red. He's so rigid he simply forgets to blink.

"But you're here for a reason, aren't you?” The voice drones. “You didn't accidentally flail your way into my restaurant. I can smell it, I can smell lies and deceit on you." A wrinkled hand is raised, and two sharp nails dig into Lu Han's neck, as he's pulled toward the Demon King.

Lu Han quickly backtracks and realizes that no, this man is nothing like him, not human, no male. He might look solid and mortal like any man, but the murky black eyes that scrutinize Lu Han are far from it.

"Tell me, human," he spits like an insult. "Who brought you here? Who helped you in through these gates? You may be a pesky little rat, but not even those stumble in here by accident." The nails dig further into his skin, and Lu Han feels it break from the pressure. Warm liquid trickles down his neck, dipping into his collarbone.

"Tell me, I command you."

"No one," Lu Han breathes. The words ring out of him like air from a deflating balloon.

"I found the way on my own. I was bored and curious." He gulps, his lips, and continues to lie through clenched teeth.

"I was bored, I came into this world and figured it was too strange to leave." Lies.

"I saw some food and I ate it, and then I came upon the restaurant and I thought wow, this place is amazing," Lies.

"So I thought, hey, why not kill some time and explore, right...?"

The Demon King isn't buying it. Lu Han closes his eyes and prays to every deity that’s not a demon.

Prays for these nails to stop cutting him, to cease the blood dribbling down his sun kissed skin, to let him go home.

"Sign a contract then," the man says. Another playful grin visits his thin lips. "If you enjoy my establishment so much, sign a contract, I will employ you."

Before Lu Han manages to gather his wits, he's been whisked over to the desk, a pen is in his grip, and a long piece of parchment sits in front of him.

"Just sign this and I will let you live," the Demon King says. He sits down in his chair and plays idly with an unlit cigar.

Lu Han was never the type to read the terms and conditions, but a nagging feeling in the back of his head says he ought to do it now. He starts skimming the text, but flinches when a hand smacks down on the surface.

"I said sign it," the Demon King snarls, and curls a threatening finger around Lu Han's hand. The long nail scrapes obnoxiously harsh against his wrist bone.

Lu Han signs the paper so quick he gets his signature wrong. The parchment flies away and tucks itself into a drawer at the back of the room.

"Excellent," The Demon King purrs. "I look forward to working with you, Lu Han."

As Lu Han is ushered out in the same manner he came in, he fears for his soul. As doors and bookcases and paintings fly by, he thinks it's more than likely that he's gone ahead and sold it.

●

"Put this on," Jongin commands. Lu Han leans dejectedly against a rusty stove, and barely manages to catch the items Jongin drops in his lap.

"It's your own uniform!" Yixing chirps happily. He balances a tray chock full of cocktail glasses, smiling cheerfully at Lu Han.

Lu Han feels none of the cheer, but follows Jongin's orders.

When he's back from the closet room, he dons his very own garot. All restaurant employees wear these one-piece items. They are full body robes with the option of tying the sleeves and legs. Lu Han faintly remembers seeing exhibits of them at a museum he visited. The fabric is a deep persimmon orange, and full-length. The seam runs visibly from shoulder, to waist, to knees in a constant pattern. Lu Han ties it at the knee to enhance mobility. The garot is sturdy, needing little maintenance and tending.

"Chin up!" Yixing says before whisking out of the kitchen. The doors swing lazily from side to side, even long after he's gone.

Lu Han continues to inspect the pattern of the kitchen floor. Garlic invades his nostrils and he's sweaty from all the steam. His hands are balled into fists.

"I guess you're one of us now," Jongin says, before sighing. Lu Han whips his head around and lays eyes on the taller man. Jongin scratches the back of his neck, avoiding Lu Han's gaze.

"Just don't cause any trouble, okay?" Jongin grabs an apron from a shelf, ties it messily on and disappears.

Lu Han is surprised that he knows what to do. He begins stirring a pot. His eyes focus on the colors that swirl around down there. Lu Han imagines putting noisy emotions in the soup as well, watching them dissolve and merge with the other ingredients. It's soothing, somehow.

Yixing returns before long, bringing with him a foreign smell. It washes over Lu Han as Yixing steps next to him by the stove. It reminds him of thunderstorms and rain.

"What's that?" Lu Han asks, deciding it's time to stop sulking. Yixing radiates positivity and life where he's standing, chopping up fresh radishes. His hands move so quickly Lu Han has a hard time keeping up.

"The smell? It must be from the Mountain God!" Yixing smiles, and his eyes disappear from the notion.

"He rarely visits nowadays, but today he's come. Keeping the weather in check has been hard on him these days, but I'm glad he managed to swing by. He's a customer it's easy to like, you should meet him sometime," Yixing tips the chopping board, sliding the radishes into the soup. They make a splashing sound and Lu Han stirs harder.

"Can I?" He asks hopefully. His forehead is slick with sweat, steam and perspiration. He's not sure how many degrees it’s in there, but it's enough to make him warm and dizzy. Perhaps waitering would be better.

Yixing hums. "Maybe, but I'm not on waiter duty today. Besides, someone needs to pay attention to you..."

The air starts buzzing around them. Yixing and Lu Han both turn around, and Lu Han stops in his track. Pressing their way between the cooks are Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Chanyeol towers over most of the staff, and he happily waves a frying pan in his hand.

"Out of the way, out of the way!" He bellows. Baekhyun is smaller, and flits easier through the chaos. He holds his magwae away from the stained floor, nose wrinkled slightly. His mischievous eyes are trained on Lu Han though, and Lu Han's heart does a sickening lurch.

"Yixing, my dear friend," Baekhyun drawls. He would have been cute if he wasn't such a nosy little jerk.

"Baekhyun," Yixing nods, looking a little stiffer than before.

Chanyeol laughs heartily in the background, dipping his finger into all the pots to taste the contents.

"The Demon King needs your skills," Baekhyun says. He kicks at a waste bucket, sending it tumbling down the hallway. It echoes noisily.

The kitchen is relatively silent now, except for the occasional alarm, the sizzling of a pan, and Chanyeol's laughter.

"Okay," Yixing says, completely frozen. He puts the knife away and rips his apron off. Before he leaves, Yixing points towards a drawer next to the refrigerators.

"Get an apron and help Jongin with the customers, okay?" Yixing smiles, but it feels less full this time.

●

It turns out waitering isn't better than stirring pots.

Lu Han almost topples over when he enters the restaurant for the first time.
The room is humongous, shaped like a square, and it stretches to hundreds of feet in total. There are several floors too, with oaken balconies facing the surface below. The tables are all sectioned by bamboo walls, and they vary in size and amount of seats. The customers sit on fluffy pillows; digging heartily into the meals they are served.

And no matter how impressive the restaurant is, what truly shocks Lu Han is the customers. He was already expecting the shades he'd seen earlier, but he wasn't expecting gods.

As he walks between tables, his eyes fall on different characters. They range from small yellow birds, relatively human looking fellows, to gigantic beasts. Lu Han is close to pissing himself when passing a green, fifteen foot rooster.

Lu Han is thankful when Jongin takes him under his wing, and he soon learns how to navigate the restaurant. The tables are numbered, ranging from 01 to 15000. The orders are sent by tiny orbs - another of the Demon King's employees - and delivered to the kitchen entrance.

Lu Han's mission is to bring the finished food to the correct table.

It sounded easy enough, but navigating fifteen thousand tables, and an equal amount of customers, is excruciatingly difficult. Lu Han is sweaty and gross after only an hour of work. He keeps glancing at his watch, hoping that the shift will end soon.

His thoughts are filled with crepes and baked potatoes when he trips over himself and sends a tray full of ramen flying through the restaurant. It lands next to a modest table, contents spilling over the customer's jeogori. Lu Han's heart stops in his chest.

"I'm so sorry!" He squeaks, attempting to tidy it up. He prepares for an angry outburst, but it never comes. Lu Han glances at the customer.

"It's okay," the man says. He is tall, lean, and has a very small mouth. His eyes look kind, and Lu Han heaves a deep sigh of relief.

"Are you alright?" The customer asks. Lu Han laughs at the irony, and nods vigorously. He dabs at the table with a filthy wash cloth.

"I'm good, just new at this," he replies, and begins scooping noodles into a plastic bag.

"I see," the customer says. "I'm Wu Yifan,"

Lu Han pauses.

Will anyone notice if he takes a little break?

His fatigue decides for him, and he leans an elbow on the table.

"I'm Lu Han," he grins and bows. The man sends him a friendly smile in return. He seems to be done with his appetizer. Lu Han should probably leave before the main dish arrives.

"So you are new? It's true I haven't seen you before, but there are many waiters here," Yifan says. His dark blond hair is pulled back, giving him a sophisticated impression. Lu Han sighs.

"This is my second day, I'm starting to think I'll never get the hang of it," Lu Han avoids mentioning how he got here, and how he’s not planning on staying long enough to master the job.

"Ah, you're a friend of Sehun, aren't you?" Yifan smiles sweetly.

Lu Han feels as if a bucket of ice water has been poured down his neck.

No one is supposed to know that.

He attempts to stutter some kind of protest, heartbeat increasing rapidly, but Yifan shakes his head, putting a huge hand over Lu Han's. They rest briefly together on the table.

Yifan's palm is warm.

"I won't tell anyone, don't worry. I know him, too," Yifan blinks, and it seems something rapid flashes through his eyes. The next second he's standing upright, brushing off his robe.

"I must go now," He says, voice distant. Before he leaves, Yifan gives Lu Han another long look. "I dine here every day, come see me if you're waitering, alright?"

Yifan whisks out of the main entrance, and Lu Han can only nod, attempting to quiet his breath at the same time.

●

The shift goes by, slowly but surely. Lu Han follows Jongin as closely as he can, collecting trash and discarded bowls along the way. They serve frogs the size of mammoths, an important group of Lizards, a starving nine-tailed fox, and by the time Lu Han serves the last meal, he's mentally exhausted. His face hurts from smiling, and the forced expression has somehow gotten stuck there.

He slithers back down the main hallway, flattening himself against bamboo partition walls when the guests exit. A slime God passes him a little too closely, and a layer of murky goo gets stuck to Lu Han's garot. He shudders before swinging in the kitchen doors. The stench of regurgitated sogogi is etched into his nostrils.

"Lu Han, nice work today," Jongin shouts from somewhere Lu Han can't see. The crowd of workers is about to usher out of the back doors and Lu Han follows in an attempt to find Jongin.

He discovers the other waiter by the stoves. Jongin's fingers are curled around a raw salmon, and he's munching away happily. Lu Han's face must look funny, because Jongin grins.

"What's up with that face? Leftovers! Do you want some?" Jongin offers Lu Han a piece, but he declines, trying hard to stay polite. Jongin shrugs and rips a fleshy piece off with his teeth. Lu Han sees his canines clearly, noting in the back of his mind that not even Jongin is human, no matter how much it looks like he is.

As they walk together down the room, a giant roar shakes the kitchen. Pots and pans escape their knobs on the walls, clattering noisily to the floor. A string of dust trickles down from the roof above them.

Jongin skids to a stop, and Lu Han follows soon after. The roaring continues, sending the kitchen back into a frenzy of activity.

Chefs, waiters, kitchen boys and other workers rush back into the kitchen. Their eyes are wide, and sweat runs down brows in desperate rivers. Lu Han turns, and his shoulder is caught by Yixing's hand.

"You're back!" Lu Han exclaims, but Yixing shakes his head.

"There's no time for that, another guest is here, we need to work."

Lu Han finds himself dragged across the kitchen, Yixing shouldering their way between busy workers. A chef shouts obnoxiously, and a series of orders are repeated down the line. Jongin soon catches up to them. He tightens the apron around his waist, frowning at the chaos around them.

"We're closed, who's got the nerve to invade like this? It's almost sunrise," Jongin growls, and hands Lu Han an apron.

"Do what they tell you, and we'll get to sleep after,"

The chaos expands, evolves and flows around Lu Han. He struggles to stir, cut, deliver and decorate, but the stress never ceases to exist. A kitchen boy faints near the stoves, steam cooking more than just the mackerel in the pot.

Lu Han sprints from station to station, and soon he's bent over by the entrance to the restaurant, breathing heavily. His heart seems to pop against his ribs.

"Lu Han," Yixing's voice is thick with exhaustion. He puts a hand on Lu Han's shoulder, and when their eyes meet, Lu Han sees fear.

"They... They want you to serve him," he croaks. Jongin is yelling something, but Lu Han can't hear it. He's more focused on the fact that Yixing is shaking, and though they haven't been familiar long, Lu Han gets the feeling it's not easy to frighten Yixing.

"Fine," he says, not knowing what he's agreeing to. He rushes past Yixing, accepts two trays - both filled to the brim with soup, bread and grilled steak - and exits.

He passes waiters and waitresses, all gossiping hurriedly near the kitchen entrance. "It's a gluttony God!" One whimpers while wiping her brow. "It will never be satisfied!"

Lu Han swallows harshly. He can feel a lump in his throat, and it doesn't want to go away no matter how harshly he forces it. The trays quiver slightly in his grip, but he does not drop them.

When he arrives at the table, Lu Han almost loses the trays anyway. He steadies himself against a bamboo divider, glazed eyes staring at the mess ahead.

Behind one of the largest tables they offer, a gigantic, green monster sits. Its head resembles a pig, but the body is warped with fat. Two black eyes peer down at Lu Han, and plump cheeks move up and down as the creature eats. A pair of fangs sticks out of its mouth; they are doused in the murky slime of overcooked soy sauce.

"Feed me," a nasal voice whines. The creature's mouth is busy with bulgogi, but it still manages to speak. Lu Han does not, and with feet made of Jell-O, he stumbles over the discarded bowls and cups. He deposits the trays on top of a dozen empty ones, and backs away as soon as he puts them down.
"Wait," the green pig commands. Lu Han freezes, both muscle and mind screaming in protest. His eyes follow the monster's movement, as it scoops the trays up into its clawed hands and shoves the food down its throat. In a matter of fifteen seconds, every single dish has been ingested.

"You, next," ashen eyes scrutinize Lu Han. A ragged tongue at the monster's lips.

"You look tasty..."

Lu Han's apron lands carefully on the tatami mats, as its owner flies through the air.

An inhuman grip around Lu Han's waist pushes all air out of his lungs, and Lu Han gasps for oxygen as his body struggles to be free.

Weightless from the monster's strength, Lu Han is easily lifted to its eye level.

"Let… Me go!" He whimpers, feeling his legs go weak without circulation. The room dances around him, and Lu Han's head feels airy.

The monster its rugged lips again, breathing a wind of pure rot into Lu Han's face.

Isn't life supposed to flash before your eyes before you die? Lu Han thinks it should, and as he's lifted closer to the gaping mouth beneath him, the words "not yet," rings through his mind.

With the last piece of strength Lu Han has, he wriggles his wrist. The cheap watch he bought at a summer festival last year comes off easily, and with no remorse to the tasteless design, Lu Han flings it down the gluttony God's throat.

His impact with the floor could have been softer. Lu Han does not complain however, and crawls as far away as he can. His back collides with bamboo, but his eyes watch the God keenly. It hacks and coughs, doubling over near the table. It gags, splutters, wheezes, and soon a group of waiters are on it.

"Please refrain from vomiting in the restaurant," one of them says. Another pulls weakly at the monster's fat ankle.

"Please exit the building, milord," a waitress pleads. Their tones are firm, and Lu Han breathes weakly, head resting heavily on the surface behind him. He closes his eyes, relief flooding every corner of his mind.

The gluttony God is ushered out before he violates the restaurant rules. It seems they even get him to pay.

Lu Han finds himself pulled to his feet, into the kitchen, down the hallway, and along the labyrinth of rooms beneath them. Yixing and Jongin's grip on him are strong, hands supporting him every time Lu Han threatens to drop. Exhaustion hangs off him like a wet towel. When they allow him to sink to the floor at last, Lu Han uses his last strength to crawl towards the balcony. Jongin and Yixing fall to rest inside their sleeping bags, but Lu Han does not, willing his tired eyes to stay open.

Sehun is coming to get him soon. He'll be here. Lu Han just needs to be awake for it. He can go home soon.

Sunrise paints the sky a soft red behind the balcony. The sound of birds singing happily is audible from the woods. Lu Han pays no attention to any of it, having already slipped into a peaceful slumber.

●

Soft and warm from sleep, Lu Han blinks wearily. His eyes keep closing, but an urgent feeling tugs at the corners of his mind. Someone is here for him.

"Lu Han," Sehun says. He stands by the railing, back pressed against cold metal, shape illuminated by the bleeding sunrise. Lu Han gets up, feeling his back tighten at the pressure of sleeping on hard wood.

"Are we leaving?" He croaks, voice rough from time spent unused. His eyes fall on Sehun, whose gaze is fixed on a spot above Lu Han's head. He closes his eyes briefly, shaking that pale face.

"It's impossible today," Sehun sighs. A gust of wind catches his hair, and blows bleached strands into his face. "You signed the contract. They're keeping an eye on you. I wanted to let you go by yourself, but I don't think we can do that anymore," Sehun's eyes meet Lu Han's. Something intense whirls around in their depths. An involuntary shiver runs down Lu Han's nape.

"I'll still help you," Sehun continues. He scratches his head. "It's just going to be harder than I thought. The Demon King... He's got something on me," Sehun averts his gaze. "I can't just up and leave this place whenever I want."

Lu Han fumbles with his shirt, the thin cotton glides roughly against his thumb.
"Why?" Flies out of him, and Lu Han grits his teeth, shakes his head.

"I mean, why can't you go? You were wandering around town when I arrived. You didn't seem very busy," He pauses, rewinds, runs a hand through his hair. "That came out wrong."

Sehun smiles. It's so sudden and unguarded it takes Lu Han a second to process. Sehun's teeth are white and straight and Lu Han could count them all if he wanted to.

His eyes keep landing on Sehun's nose though, and the way it crinkles slightly now that he's laughing. It's so radiant Lu Han kind of wants to look away, and then wash away the flush in his cheeks.

"I felt compelled to," Sehun says, mouth still smiling. "It felt like something important was coming."

Before Lu Han has time to process and turn into a bumbling, blushing mess, Sehun steps forward. A pale hand cups Lu Han's cheek, soft fingers brush faintly against his cheekbone. Sehun blocks the sunrise completely now, and Lu Han almost misses the bitter look on his face.

"Please hold on," Sehun murmurs. "Give me one more day. One more day and I'll take you home."

Lu Han blinks. Half a second and Sehun is gone, fingers disappearing from Lu Han's face, form completely missing from the brightly lit veranda. Lu Han's hand is outstretched dumbly, palm catching nothing but wind in its grip.

He stares at the sun for a while, but inevitably slips back into the room, burying himself in sleeping bag and blankets.

A voice drifts lazily through the door towards him; he almost catches the words before slipping into unconsciousness once again.