𝐥𝐮𝐱 @nebulousbrainsoup - Tumblr Blog

Vignette: Unity PT.1 — J.WY, K.YS

SOURCES: All references in this work and future installments of Through the Darkness to Allomancy are credit to Brandon Sanderson and the Cosmere. His brilliant mind gave birth to this magic system. I have taken liberties with it to suit our universe (and with a large amount of curiosity on the specifics of metals affecting their users). Development of this series happened with mostly the original Mistborn trilogy in mind and while only eras 1 and 2 were published and before my own reading of Wax and Wayne. For more information, please look here, here and here. Be wary of spoilers. If you like Allomancy, please read Mistborn and get in my DMs. Please.

STORY SUMMARY: As an Outer sector kid, you expect life in the Inner Sector to be difficult, to say the least. And it is, but between the support of your older sibling and a few unexpected friends, you don't think you mind it... no matter how rough it gets.

RATING: PG

GENRE: fluff, little angst

PAIRING: N/A, hints of both wooyoung x reader & yeosang x reader (but it's silly childhood crushes)

AU/TROPE: nonidol au, dystopian au, steampunk au, mistborn au kind of

WORD COUNT: 16.5k

WARNINGS: Mentions of chronic illness, alcohol, off-screen violence mentions, unintentional emotional manipulation by a distressed child with surprise abilities, they're kids for a large portion of this but they are adults by the time drinking happens (there's a whole timeline about it i promise)

A/N: *revives blog after years* so adrenaline tho. it's been crazy inspring. honestly, please read mistborn and the cosmere!!! no spoilers for dawnshard and on, i will fight. this has been living in my brain for three years and i'm so excited to finally get it out. massive shout out to @cybrsan for their patience and i'm so stoked to bring this back. here's to the long haul.

LINKS: masterlist | join my taglist

BANNER CREDIT: @kwanisms

YEAR: 1010

Fall is just beginning to shift to winter, the chill in the air prompting their mothers to send them on their walk to school with coats that have the pair of childhood friends sweating by the time they arrive when Yeosang tells Wooyoung, “A new family moved in down the street from me this weekend.”

Wooyoung stares, a bit surprised. “Really? Anyone we know?”

Yeosang holds back a giggle. “If it were, they wouldn’t be a new family, would they?” he teases.

His best friend scoffs, leaning over to punch him in the arm. Yeosang cries out more than is strictly necessary, stumbling dramatically for a moment. When he steadies himself, he nudges the younger back with a grin. “No, my mom went and talked to them, and I guess it’s the family of that guy that won the Nightingale Commendation earlier this year. He’s only like five years older than we are.”

At this, Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. “You think we have a chance at the Commendation that soon?”

Yeosang snorts. “With your bad marks? Definitely not.”

“I can clean up my act!” The whine earns another little giggle.

“Anyway, I guess the guy has a sister our age,” the elder backtracks.

“Oh, cool! A new friend.” Wooyoung grins brightly, a spring in his step. “Think she’s gonna be there today, if they’re all moved in?”

“Only one way to find out,” Yeosang replies, shrugging.

There was no new face that day, or the next. Weeks went by without a new arrival, slowly turning into a month. Then two and a holiday. The pair had forgotten about their potential new classmate entirely by the time they returned from their break. It was Wooyoung who was reminded first.

YEAR: 1011

You follow your teacher—Ms. Ahn, you recall—from the Headmaster’s Office quietly, brushing invisible dust off your pristine white Prestige Academy uniform. She had welcomed you with a warm smile and open arms, the wariness and borderline hostility you met her with entirely unwarranted. At least, from her perspective. From yours, which had spent the past three months in your new home feeling the stares of your new, richer Inner Sector neighbors following you and your sibling as you went about your daily lives, you were entirely justified. You think you recognize the woman currently guiding you as one of them; someone from your neighborhood who had stopped by briefly to wish you well with what was probably a fake smile. She gives you a sadder, softer one as she stops at the classroom door, ushering you through it first before following and pulling the door shut behind you.

Around thirty sets of eyes focus in on you like lasers with your entrance, and you tense instinctively, jaw setting and eyes narrowing just slightly as you stand straighter. Discomfort begins to seep into your bones and you start to take half a step back, just as Ms. Ahn steps up next to you, steadying you.

She smiles brightly again, setting a hand on your shoulder briefly as she speaks, “Class, we have a new student joining us this semester. Everyone, please welcome Y/N.” The silence your introduction is met with seems like it stretches on for hours. Soon, Ms. Ahn speaks again, this time turning to you. “Y/N, is there anything you’d like to share with the class?”

Glancing up at her, you began to shake your head, only to pause when your sibling’s words from that morning return to your mind. “Don’t let people treat you differently just because you’re from the Outer Sector, okay? We have to be proud of it, show them we’re not that different from them.” The soft smile they gave as they buttoned your coat returns to your mind, and you feel your nerves settle.

Instead of backing down, you nod, taking a deep breath and a step forward. “I’m Y/N. I just moved here from the Outer Sector so my older sibling could work with the Watch.” A few whispers begin, a few more eyes widen, and you square your shoulders, lifting your head high. “They won the Nightingale Commendation and they’re a really powerful Allomancer. My mom and I are really proud of them.” You settle back down and glance to your teacher, finding a glimmer of something like amusement behind her eyes. “That’s all, Ms. Ahn.”

“Thank you for sharing. You can go sit in the empty desk next to Chan, and we’ll begin our lesson.”

The whispers die down as your peers shuffle through their backpacks for tablets, notebooks and pencils but, unbeknownst to you, one pair of curious, dual-toned eyes follows you across the room as you sit next to the bubbly boy with the brightest, most genuine smile you think you’ve ever seen.

Wooyoung watches you as you settle down next to his friend, quickly recalling the conversation he had with Yeosang all those months ago. Something about the way your eyes lit up when you spoke, boldly announcing to the sixth grade class that, yes, you were from the other side of the Ring, before any rumors could begin swirling made the boy curious. I want—no, need, to be her friend, Wooyoung tells himself, already beginning to plot the how of his operation.

His plan begins at lunch on that first day. Changbin and Yeonjun are waving at him, calling him over to join them at their usual table, but he spares them only a bright grin and a quick, excited wave as he carries his lunchbox to the far corner of the room, where you’ve tucked yourself safely away. You don’t acknowledge him as he settles down, your eyes locked on the sandwich and chips you’d packed yourself that morning.

Distantly—warily—you become aware of the weight of your table shifting as someone settles across from you. You sigh internally—and so it begins. Thankfully, whoever it is keeps quiet, unpacking their own meal and letting an appetizing combination of scents waft in your direction. You allow yourself a quick glance up, eyes still fixed only on the food, to sate your curiosity as your stomach grumbles at the enticing aromas. Though you can’t see their face, you can see your unexpected companion hesitate, their hands freezing for a moment under your scrutiny.

Sighing, you pick up your own sandwich as your body loudly protests again and, without anywhere else to direct your attention, you meet the eyes of the boy who had decided to join you. The smile he gives you along with his wave is blinding, and you have to take a moment to process, wondering how someone can be so joyful at school, of all places.

“Hi. I’m Wooyoung. We’re in the same class,” he greets, and you nod in response—his single, vibrant blue eye stuck out among the matching pairs that stared you down earlier.

You blink slowly at the boy across from you, brow furrowing slightly and eyes narrowing warily.

“You don’t have to tell me your name, Y/N, Miss Ahn already said it,” he continues, barely distracted by the small feast he’s pulled from his bag. “I think we should be friends. You seem really cool!”

You recoil a bit in confusion as you meet his eyes again. “’M not cool,” you grumble in protest, “’m just some dumb loser kid from the other side of the Ring.”

Wooyoung’s megawatt smile falls into a concentrated frown. “Who said that? I’ll beat them up. Or ask Yeonjun to. Or my big brother. Oh, or yours! They're probably really good at fighting if they’re on the Watch so young.”

You ignore his assumption about your sibling with a little huff, asking instead, “Who’s Yeonjun?”

Your companion’s face lights up, his lips pulling once more into a grin. “He’s one of my best friends! He’s in the other class with Yeosangie and Changbin.” For a moment, he goes quiet, his pout returning. It’s all you can do not to giggle—he looks the epitome of a petulant child like that. “My mom put me in the other class with Channie and Sangie’s mom because she said Changbin, Yeonjun and I cause too much trouble together.” This time, your sigh is an exasperated one. I didn’t ask for your life story. “They’re over there,” he turns to gesture across the cafeteria to a group of four boys, their eyes all focused on your table, “where I usually sit. You should—”

“Why aren’t you sitting with them?” You cut in, eyes narrowing as you tilt your head.

Again, Wooyoung falls silent for a moment, blinking hard in confusion. “Because I’m already friends with them.”

“Don’t friends usually sit together?”

Wooyoung frowns deeply, brows scrunching up. “Yeah. But if I sat with them, I wouldn't be able to make friends with you.”

It was your turn to frown, that same pout that reminded him so much of his best friend on your face. “You… actually want to be my friend?”

The boy in front of you blinks rapidly, tilting his head in confusion once more. “Well, yeah. You probably don’t have a lot of friends here, right? So I thought I could help with that! I like making friends and, like I said before, I’m friends with Chan too, the guy you sit next to, so he can be your friend too, and Sangie lives down the street from you—”

“Young-ah!”

You both startle as one of the boys he’d pointed out earlier plops down next to Wooyoung, slinging an arm around his shoulder. Your defenses rise again at record speed, eyes narrowing with suspicion, and Wooyoung deflates a little, watching you close up at Changbin’s boisterous entrance.

“Why didn’t you come sit with us? You’re not replacing us, are you?” The teasing lilt to his friend’s voice makes Wooyoung start to giggle, but when he glances back to you, your jaw is tight again, a frown pulling at your lips. There’s little hint of the girl who’d been so bold before—you look a bit like a frightened animal ready to sprint away or pounce.

“Nope, I’m just making us a new friend!” He supplies quickly. “This is Y/N, she’s new in mine and Chan’s class with Yeosangie’s mom. Y/N, this is Changbin, one of my best friends!”

You sit silent and still, face still pinched. Wooyoung opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say a word, you spring to your feet, tucking your unfinished sandwich away. “Nice to meet you both. I’ll see you in class, Wooyoung. I have to go talk to the Headmaster about, um. Stuff.”

For a moment, he frowns, considering your flimsy excuse. Then, to your surprise, he softens, regaining the grin you’re quickly learning is his signature. “Oh, that’s my mom! I can show you to her office. I kind of want to say hi to her anyway!”

Your eyes go wide and you pale. “Th-That’s okay, um, she said I should just come by myself and I was in her office this morning already, so I know where it is! I’ll just see you after lunch!”

Before he can so much as wave, you’ve scurry out of the lunch room, leaving Wooyoung and his friend to stare after you in shocked silence.

Changbin broke it, tilting his head. “She reminds me of when I first met Yeosang.”

If it hadn’t been before, the comparison to his oldest friend sealed the deal for Wooyoung. He had to be your friend.

Despite your best efforts, you quickly find avoiding Jung Wooyoung to be a futile quest. If he didn’t find you in class, his friend Lee Chan would lean over from his seat next to you with comments that were making you giggle with increasing frequency. Seo Changbin had attached himself to you after that first meeting too, bringing with him Choi Yeonjun and the quieter Kang Yeosang. You recognize all of them once you’re properly introduced; Chan from class, Changbin and Yeonjun from that first day in the cafeteria and Yeosang from the house two down from your new one, just like Wooyoung said.

Slowly, you find yourself warming up to the five boys, each of them welcoming you into their fold with open arms. They began to provide a welcome respite from the sideways glances you received immediately following your move, Wooyoung and Chan working as buffers in class and the others joining them outside of it. The only one you had any “trouble” with was Yeosang, his quiet demeanor frequently leading to him fading into the background when the entire friend group was together.

Luckily, though, he does live just down the street from you, and you quickly gather that his house is one of Wooyoung’s favorite places to be during his downtime.

The first time the pair appears on your doorstep, you find yourself cowering behind the curtains of your mother’s bedroom window, only risking a single, brief glance after some amount of silence. With your sibling at work, the chore of your mother’s nightly routine naturally falls to you and, while you had become rather fond of your friends over the recent weeks, you still couldn’t stomach the thought of explaining her condition to them. You barely understood it yourself, after all.

So, you find yourself shamefully hiding away, frowning as Wooyoung’s voice filters up through the cracked window. “That’s so weird. I saw her come in after school and she hasn’t left… Maybe they have a back door she went out of?”

“You don’t think she’s avoiding us, do you?” Comes Yeosang’s hesitant reply, and your heart does something funny in your chest.

“Of course not! We’re her friends. Friends don’t avoid friends,” Wooyoung huffs, and the funny feeling in your chest tightens. “She’s probably just taking a nap or something. We’ll ask her about it tomorrow, come on.”

You risk another glance as their footsteps begin to recede, sighing in relief. You need a plan.

The next day comes and, unsurprisingly, Wooyoung corners you within minutes of the lunch bell ringing. “Y/N-ie! Where did you go last night?”

You can feel yourself flush. You never got around to making that plan. “I, uhm, what do you mean, Wooyoungie?”

“Sangie and I went over to your house last night to see if you wanted to hang out, but you weren’t there. Which is weird considering we all walked home together and then I never saw you leave.”

You can feel heat in the tips of your ears and apples of your cheeks building. “Oh, I, uhm. I was…” Your brain flickers back to the evening before, searching for any kind of excuse. “I was taking a nap!” You offer quickly, smiling tightly as you recalled the boy’s excuse for you.

“I told Yeosangie that, but he didn’t want to believe me!” he nearly shouts, drawing a few glares from nearby teachers and strange looks from your peers. “C’mon, let’s go tell him I was right! He thought you were avoiding us.”

Your heart does that funny tight thing again, and you hope the regret from your white lie isn’t seeping through your smile.\

“Berry,” you start, earning a playful glare from your sibling, “what do you tell your friends about Mom and Dad?”

“Because Wooyoung and Yeosang tried to come over a couple of days ago after school, but I… I didn't want to let them in and have to explain about Mom because I didn't know what to say, so I kind of just hid and I don't want to do that again.”

The look they give you feels almost the same way that weird tight heart thing did. “You don't have to tell your friends anything you don't want them to know, okay?”

“But I don't want to lie to them. I already did yesterday, and I feel weird about it. I really don’t want to do it again. Friends are supposed to be honest with each other, y’know?”

Luxe smiles and your heart warms as you return it. “That's very thoughtful of you, Bug. You’re right, friends shouldn’t lie to each other, but you don't have to tell them anything you aren’t ready to. You can tell them what I told you at first, that Mom’s sick.”

You frown, huffing a sigh and pushing your plate away from you. Suddenly, you’re not hungry anymore. “But what if they ask questions?”

This time, the smile Luxe gives you has a taste of something wrong in it. Their eyes seem just a little off as they push their plate away too and fold their hands in front of them. “Then you can tell them you don’t want to talk about it.”

Your frown deepens into a scowl. “But isn’t that rude? Friends share like… Everything, right?”

Your sibling pauses, thoughtful for a moment, before they finally respond. “They can, but I think if they’re good friends, ones who are worth it, they’ll respect your boundaries. What do you think?”

For a moment, you ponder the proposal then, slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Okay.”

Your sibling’s smile loses its touch of tightness and they grin, scooping up both of your plates and starting for the kitchen. “Come on, go get ready for school.” You groan, and barely catch the way Luxe chuckles quietly to themself as they clean up the remnants of your breakfasts. “Don’t you want to go see your friends? You’ll have plenty of time to hang out with them after, since I’m home today, but you won’t if I call you in sick.”

You fix your sibling with your most scathing glare. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” they hum, ruffling your hair affectionately as they pass. “Now go get ready, I’ll check on Mom, and I’ll walk with you to the Academy.”

You go, but not without another dramatic groan of protest. Luxe grins behind your back, shaking their head affectionately.

When you finally walk out of the school again for the afternoon, Wooyoung and Yeosang are buzzing with just as much excitement as you for your afternoon adventures. Over lunch, they’d told you all about the gardens they frequent and the pile of scrap metal they’d squirreled away in Yeosang’s backyard to tinker with, and you find yourself bouncing happily as your eyes roam the crowd of parents and guardians and older students in search of your sibling.

The moment you find them, you grab your friends by their wrists and drag them through the crowd, face pulling into a wide grin you expected to see returned.

“Berry!” You call as your friends scramble after you, Wooyoung with a squawk of protest, pulling your sibling’s attention to you. The smile they give you is weak as they bend at the waist, arms opening up to you.

You frown and slow, dropping Wooyoung and Yeosang’s hands. Usually, Luxe would greet you after any time away by kneeling to meet your height, scooping you up for a hug and spinning you around for their ‘day off workout’, as they called it. They only passed on your little tradition on days like today, when they were dressed in their Watch uniform and unwilling to let you crease or dirty its crisp grey material.

Behind you, Wooyoung makes a noise of question as your joy slowly slips away from you.

“I thought you didn’t work today.”

Luxe’s tight smile falls, their eyes dropping guiltily to the ground at their feet as they straighten up. “I know, Bug, but there’s been an emergency.” With a quick breath, their eyes meet yours once more, a sadder sort of smile on their lips now. “But I made sure my Captain knew I had to see my baby sister off first. Listen,” they pause, taking another quick breath as their brows knit together. “I know I said I’d be home to take care of… things today, and I promise I’ll make it up to you next time.”

“So I can hang out with my friends next week, but not this week?”

To your surprise, your sibling shakes their head vehemently. “No, you can still spend time with Wooyoung and Yeosang today—”

One of the boys in question cuts them off with a victorious whoop, and Luxe chuckles, shooting a fond smile over your shoulder.

“But can you stay in the neighborhood and check in regularly? Just in case Mom needs anything. You said Yeosang lives near us, right?”

You nod and their eyes turn to the boys behind them, glancing between the two until the pair nod as well. “So that means you have at least two places you can go; our house and Yeosang’s, if his guardian says it’s okay. I’m sure it’s not as exciting as whatever you three had planned before, but again, I’ll make it up to you next time, okay?”

Still frowning, you nod. “Okay. Can you at least walk us home?”

Luxe sighs heavily and mirrors your frown, shaking their head once more. “I can’t, I have to go now. Yeosang, Wooyoung,” they turn their gaze back to your friends in turn, “I expect you to keep my little sister safe on your walk home, okay? I’m counting on you.”

You glance over your shoulders just in time to see Yeosang’s ears turn pink as he gives a nod, Wooyoung following suit with his usual bout of extra energy. “You can count on us!”

Your sibling grins proudly, reaching out to pat each of the boys on their heads approvingly. “Good, thank you.”

You roll your eyes, huffing a sigh at their overprotectiveness.

“Y/N,” they turn back to you, opening their arms half-heartedly. “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”

Like you have so many times before, you stretch up to throw your arms around your sibling’s neck, squeezing them tight enough they’d complain you’d creased their uniform. “Be safe, Berry.”

Sure enough, they flash you a glare as they brush invisible creases from the material. “You too, Bug. And have fun.”

YEARS: 1012-1014

Your walks home together quickly become a daily occurrence, after that. Most of the time, it’s just you, Wooyoung, and Yeosang, chatting idly about the latest bizarre creations you’ve dreamed up from the scrap pile in Yeosang’s backyard in the name of amateur Technomancy. Some days, Chan, Changbin and Yeonjun join you, though more frequently than not, the former two beg off to tend to “family matters.”

“Chan has siblings,” Wooyoung explains one day, although you hadn’t asked him to. “He’s the oldest, too, so he has to wrangle them most days; kind of like your sibling does with you, sometimes.” You look away at that to hide your frown. “Changbin’s family is kind of high up in the political world, so he has a lot of functions and stuff his parents make him go to.”

And they probably don’t want him associating with someone from the other side of the Ring, your brain provides, unhelpful as usual. The way he always breaks off from your group before his parents can see him hasn't escaped your notice.

Yeonjun is about a fifty-fifty shot on whether or not he joins you—he seems to live entirely on the other side of the Inner Sector though, so it isn’t often that he makes the trek all the way out to your neighborhood. Sometimes, Wooyoung will join him on his after school adventures, but most of the time he seems to prefer sticking beside you and Yeosang, chatting your ears off as you return to your half-done projects. You spend every day with the boys that you possibly can, and when you can’t, they see you into your front door with eager waves, promises to see you in the morning, and many a plea from Wooyoung to stay and join them. For a while, you can see Yeosang elbowing him in the side but, eventually, he gives up and just grins at you too.

It’s a routine you’re truly happy with, and you never feel alone, which is more than you could say for the few acquaintances you had in the Outer Sector. True to the stories you’d heard before your move, the people within the Ring seem to have more free time than anyone ever had in the Outer Sector. You can recall the local seamstress’ son running you and your sibling completed orders, eyes tired but a bright smile always on his face, and the fisherman’s adopted son dragging in the morning’s haul with him as his brother manned the booth, fending off the crowds before sale began. No one seems to do that here, or if they do, you don't see it.

For the first year, it’s a bit jarring. You explore what must be the entire Inner Sector with your friends, skirting around the Symposium, and all the shops have fronts, woven neatly into the middle of residential streets. There are a few squares and, sometimes, the stores take up a little bit of space in the streets before them to show off specials, but no one here maintains a ramshackle booth. There's no open-air market here. You think the stares you receive would be doubled upon anyone who would dare try it. It’s pretty and it’s new, but some part of you longs for the hustle and bustle of the too-cramped piers.

You voice as much to Yeosang one day, sprawled out in his backyard under the sun as summer morphs to fall. He hums thoughtfully.

“It would be cool to see where you grew up. You’ve seen most of mine and Wooyoung’s lives, we should see yours.”

You nod. “I’d like to show you. But there’s that gate, and there’s no chance they’ll let three kids from the Inner Sector through. The guards all act like it’s some free-for-all out there, even though it’s really not. Just a little busier and more cramped.”

Yeosang looks at you, a little confused. He’s about to say something before he’s cut off by a shout, Wooyoung joining the two of you once again from the house. You both sit up eagerly, and your worries are quickly forgotten.

The next year goes by in a similar fashion—despite your classmates swapping around, it seems you and your friends remain separated in the same groups the next year. Wooyoung pouts about it, naturally, whining that he can’t be in the same class as you and Yeosang both on the way home from the first day of the next school year, taking turns leaning on each of your shoulders while you walk home. The three of you collapse into a heap when you make it to Yeosang’s backyard, Wooyoung pinning the two of you below him as you and Yeosang share a fond look, tuning him out as you collapse into a fit of quiet giggles.

Its on one of these days, early in the year, that you first hear the words “Adept Potential Evaluation.” It’s Wooyoung, ever-excitable, who brings it up first.

“I’m excited for it. What if I become the first Technomancer with Allomantic abilities or something?”

From where he’s tinkering with his latest creation, Yeosang snorts. “They wouldn’t let you study both even if you did test for both. Which, in case you’d forgotten, is unheard of.”

Wooyoung narrows his eyes, tossing a spare bolt at his friend and, inexplicably, you feel a little pang of anger at the older boy as it hits his shoulder. “Hey, I can dream, okay? Not all of us have Adept parents.”

You watch Yeosang’s brow furrow and he straightens too, setting his project aside. “That’s not what I meant, Young-ah. I’m not trying to be mean, I’m just being realistic.”

“It did come off a little harsh,” you cut in, frowning.

In an instant, Yeosang shrinks back into himself, and you feel the anger that had so quickly welled up within you evaporate. Woyooung, too, softens.

“Sorry, Sangie. I know you didn’t mean it like that, I’m just… I’m worried, is all,” he admits.

Yeosang gives an understanding smile, nodding. “I think we all are.”

You squirm uncomfortably, frowning at the ground. “I’m always nervous for tests, but, um… what is this one for, exactly?” You ask, sheepish.

Wooyoung startles, and Yeosang seems to mirror his shock. It’s the latter who replies. “I figured they would have told you when you enrolled. Your sibling probably took it, too. It’s this… aptitude test, I guess, to see whether or not you’re an Adept.”

The frown you give is disgusted enough to have both boys laughing at you. “Why does it matter?”

Their laughter stops, replaced with confused looks again. “They really didn’t tell you anything about how the Academy works, huh?” Wooyoung asks, head tilted. “We split into different tracks next year. Allomancers are one program, Technomancers another, and non-adepts another.”

You must pull another face, because Yeosang quickly adds, “It’s not fool-proof. Sometimes non-adepts end up being Adepts later in life, but it helps make sure people can hone their abilities before they graduate. And, honestly, without it, it would be really hard to detect Shells or anyone who can use the Internal Metals.”

Slowly, you nod. “Makes sense, I guess. Still weird, but I don’t think I’m nervous for it.” When both boys glare at you, you shrug half-heartedly. “I don’t really have anything to lose if I do end up as a non-adept.” A pang of sadness flares up, just as potent and sudden as your burst of anger earlier, and you quickly turn back to the little metal sculpture you’ve created, thankful when Wooyoung moves on to other topics.

In preparation for the evaluation, your classes that year turn toward specifics of Allomancy and Technomancy. A select few of your peers, like your sibling, boast abilities they’ve found through happenstance. One of the girls does the same thing your brother can, sending a paper clip flying dangerously close to their eye with a mighty Pull, and another boy brings a construct he Animated himself. With each new display, you can see Wooyoung sink back into his desk a little more, his eyes cast down at the wood below him. He sulks through every presentation, radiating a grumpiness you sometimes swear you can feel, though no one else looks affected by it.

When you bring it up to Yeosang, his brow furrows thoughtfully, but he shakes his head. “He’s always kind of been like that. A big presence, y’know? Just as easily as he can make the room happier, he can bring it down if he’s feeling pissy enough. It’s just who he is.”

You accept the explanation and shrug the strange feeling off, even as it begins to come more often, even as it begins to slip into your backyard hangouts with the pair. It’s a slow shift, but you find him snapping at the pair of you more frequently, and you feel like you’re reacting more along with it. Yeosang, too, seems to have less patience for his best friend than usual.

The winter chill is once again beginning to settle around you when things come to a head. You’re in your usual spot in Yeosang’s backyard, sprawled out the grass and fiddling with a stray piece of wire. The elder of the two is relaying the day’s events; apparently this time a boy in his class had turned out to be a Coinshot.

“That would be cool,” you muse, twisting the wire into a spiral around your finger. You hold it loosely in front of your eyes, pouting and squinting with focus as you imagine it. “Being able to just…” You ignore Wooyoung’s scoff as you trail off, imagining the metal flying off into the sky.

Something within you responds, a fire burning low in your belly. A flash of blue lights up the path from your chest to the wire, and you gasp as it shoots upward, your body following the momentum as you shoot upright. The line remains as you sit up and the wire changes direction with you, almost as if you’re—

“—Pushing.” Yeosang sounds amazed as you tune back into the world around you.

The blue line—lines, you realize now; they’re a thick mess where they point to the scrap pile, one for each piece of metal you can see and some trailing off into the distance even—they remain, bursting from your chest in a spray of color. You can’t help but worry a little, glancing between your friends and your chest. Yeosang looks stunned and confused, but his eyes, filled with wonder, are focused on your face. Wooyoung is staring at the ground, still sulking in the way that’s becoming increasingly less uncharacteristic, so you turn back to the elder.

“Do you… see that?”

He blinks, frowns. “See what?”

“There’s… blue.” You gesture to yourself.

For a moment, Yeosang just frowns at you, confused, until realization sees to dawn. “Oh! That’s normal. If you’re a Coinshot or a Lurcher, supposedly there are these little blue lines that show you where there’s metal nearby when you’re burning.”

You eye the scrap pile warily. “That… seems true. I’ll have to ask Luxe if—”

“Wooyoung?” Yeosang cuts you off, and you follow his eyeline to the third of your trio, who’s rising to his feet. “Where are you going?”

“Home. I forgot we have a… thing tonight,” he mutters. “Dad wants the whole family there.”

Anger boils in your chest at an impressive speed, quickly overwhelming the excitement you’d felt a moment ago alongside your revelation. “Is this because I’m an Allomancer and you’re not?” You demand, eyes narrowing.

Wooyoung spins on you, and you could swear his blue eye is glowing. “You don’t know that yet! We haven’t been evaluated—I could still be an Adept! Just because my family aren't Adepts—”

“That’s enough, Wooyoung.” A stern voice cuts through the chaos, Yeosang’s mother stepping out onto the deck, and all three of you turn to her.

The anger deepens, and you feel your fists clench at your sides for a flash before it’s gone. It dissipates in a moment, replaced with a low pulse of hurt and a lot of confusion.

Ms. Ahn’s stiff shoulders slacken at the same moment, and you see her sigh as if in relief. “You have nothing do worry about, Wooyoungie,” she soothes as she comes down the steps to join you, a smile on her face. “I can’t be sure, but it seems to me that you’re going to be a very powerful little Rioter.” She pauses to kneel to his level, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. “It’s rude to use your abilities on your friends, though. You need to be more careful, okay?”

For a moment, the three of you stare at her, aghast. She smiles warmly, standing and offering a hand to the boy. “Come inside. I’ll make you all some snacks and we can talk more about it, okay?”

Wooyoung nods silently, feigned family plans all but forgotten, and follows her into the house. You and Yeosang share a look, amused and dumbfounded.

“Well,” he says as you begin to follow after them, “that explains a lot.”

YEARS: 1014-1018

Two weeks later, the Evaluation confirms Ms. Ahn’s suspicions and more; Yeosang is a Seeker, too. Wooyoung greets the two of you after school with the brightest grin you’ve seen from him yet and a squeal of happiness. The three of you will be placed together—”Maybe even in the same classes for once!”—in the Allomancy program next year. Yeonjun is the only one of your other friends to make his way into the Technomancy program, though Changbin and Chan both seem unsurprised and content with finding themselves in the non-adept program.

You carry your results home with a bright smile and a skip in your step, waving to Wooyoung and Yeosang as they continue the trek down the block to Yeosang’s home. The first person you tell is your mother, and you can swear you see her mouth pull into a smile as you read off the results to her.

“L/N, Y/N, projected Prestige Academy class of 1019. Classification, Allomancer. Specialty, Coinshot; Steel.” You pause, sighing, unable to hide your grin. “I’m really excited to see what this means. Maybe I’ll be as good as Luxe one day.”

You wait on the couch for your sibling to come home, eager to tell them, too. The sound of the door creaking open wakes you, and you sit upright as quickly as your sleep-addled little mind can manage. They begin to chastise you for being up past your bedtime but, predictably, halt when you throw your hands around their waist and the paper in your hand crinkles.

“’M a—” A yawn cuts you off, and you’re distantly aware of Luxe mirroring the action. “’M an Allomancer, Berry. Just like Dad.”

Your sibling stiffens and you start to take a step back, confused. They hold you fast, though, kneeling down to eye level with a fresh wakefulness in their gaze. “It was Eval Day,” they say, half a question and half an observation.

You rub your eyes and nod, offering the single sheet of paper out to them readily. They take it, eyes shimmering with excitement, but as they read, you can see some of that weariness seep back into their bones. When they look back up at you, their grin hides something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you, Bug,” they praise, wrapping you back up in their arms. You giggle as they lift you, starting for the stairs. “Did you wait up just to tell me?” Sleepily, you hum confirmation and nod. They chuckle quietly. “Let’s get you to bed. We’ll celebrate next time I’m off, okay?”

Your nod is barely noticeable as sleep begins to take you again.

The celebration comes two weeks later, when they pick you up from school, positively beaming, and scoop you up in their arms. You give your friends a confused, mildly concerned look from over their shoulder, fixing it on them as they set you down. “I’m a Watch Captain now,” they explain, still grinning. “I’ll be working nights, but that means I’ll be home to take care of Mom during the day. You can spend your summer with your friends.”

All three of you perk up, and you jump back into your sibling’s arms with a squeal.

“Let’s go celebrate that and your Eval results, shall we?”

The rest of the school year passes in a blur. A promotion to Watch Captain gives your sibling a more consistent schedule, leaving you with more free time than you had expected. End of year exams and evenings with your friends are all you're left to focus on, and before you know it, the sticky coastal summer heat is settling in. It’s better in the Inner Sector, you think, less stifling the further away from the water you are, but your friends seem to disagree. The first time you suggest going outside is met with a confused blink from Yeosang and a mildly disgusted scoff from Wooyoung.

“I feel like I’m going stir crazy!” You argue. “I need to touch grass. I haven’t gotten to lay in the sun in like a week.”

“What are you, a lizard?” Wooyoung shoots back from where he’s sprawled over the arm of an overstuffed chair. He squawks in surprise when you hurl a throw pillow at him.

“Y/N, we just walked over here. We were outside for a whole thirty minutes like… ten minutes ago. There was so much grass to touch on the way,” Yeosang grumbles.

“Yeah, but if I laid in it, people would have looked at me weird. And you probably would have left me there.”

“I would not have!”

“Yes you would! I had to half-jog to keep up with you, you were so eager to get out of the sun!”

“I’m not meant for the summer, okay?”

“Your birthday is literally in June, Yeosangie. That seems like the definition of ‘made for summer.’”

He has no retort for that, it seems, and as your bickering dies down, the silence that meets your ears feels deafening. The two of you share a suspicious look before turning your gazes to Wooyoung, who has his fingers steepled in thought.

“Uh-oh.”

“What are you plotting over there?”

He sits up to face you, a hopeful look in his eyes. “You know, Sangie, we still haven’t gotten a chance to show Y/N the Gardens.”

It’s Yeosang’s turn to look thoughtful. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s been a while since we’ve been, even.”

“It would solve all of our problems. We can keep out of the sun and heat while Y/N lays in the grass.”

“And no passersby to think she's weird for it either,” Yeosang hums.

You launch another pillow past his head as Wooyoung claps his hands together, drawing your attention. “Let’s go then!”

YEAR: 1015

It's counterintuitive, the way that everything seems to take up more space the further you go into the center of Sector One. The same thought had come to you when you first started exploring the Inner Sector with Wooyoung and Yeosang; it's wasn't by too much, but the houses were farther apart, the yards bigger, and the squares wider. The plants had seemed a little fuller than the ones you’d been used to in the Outer Sector, and the grass seemed greener, as cliché as the thought was. The changes were small, incremental, nearly invisible to those who weren’t looking for them.

Whatever subtlety was employed by the residents of the Inner Sector was blatantly ignored by those within the Symposium, you learn as you cross through the Inner Gates. The chips and cracks in the streets beneath your feet seem to disappear, the cobblestones smoothing out into an immaculately swept path before you. The home you thought big seems miniscule when compared to the manors that rise on either side of you, their towers quickly obscuring the wall as it curves around them.

You don’t realize you’ve stopped in your tracks, jaw dropped as you gape up at them, until Wooyoung reaches up, waving a hand in front of your face. With a start, you blink back into yourself, turning to him. “It’s all so…. huge. Yeonjun lives here?”

He chuckles and nods. “Mhm. Isn't it pretty?”

Slowly, you nod, brow furrowing even as you agree. “It's… big.”

Wooyoung snorts. “Downgraded from huge to big in the last few seconds, huh?” You frown at him, and he continues. “It’s not really that impressive. The Academy is bigger than that.”

Just inside the gates of the Symposium, you stop and cross your arms over your chest. When Yeosang looks back at you, his concern is apparent, eyes flickering between the pair of you. “Yeah, but that’s meant to hold hundreds of students at once, not one family.”

“There can be hundreds of people in one manor, sometimes.” Wooyoung grinned at you. “They throw parties and dinners for important people, so it’s not unheard of.”

Your jaw tightens, and you see something flash in Yeosang's eyes as they dart between the pair of you. “It's not, like, an everyday thing, though. This kind of wealth is…” For a moment, you're speechless, gesturing around at the buildings and their grounds in awe. When you look back at him, he's got an eyebrow cocked up to his forehead, smug. Something in you snaps. “If this type of money exists in Sector One, why did I spend half of my childhood in a two-room house with a leaky roof?”

That shuts him up, perhaps a little too well. Both boys stare at you, jaws agape, and you feel the heat of embarrassment rush up your neck, settling in your cheeks. You turn away, shaking your head. “S-Sorry, that was—”

You’re cut off with a muffled sound of surprise as Wooyoung wraps his arms around you, and the comfort you feel in his familiar embrace is about ten times what it usually is. He sniffles, holding you tight to him as he speaks, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t even think about that.”

Heaving a sigh, you wrap your arms around him in return, words muffled against his chest. “It is what it is, but if you want me to forgive you, stop Rioting me.”

At least he has the decency to look sheepish as you part, your emotions dropping back to their normal level. “Sorry.”

“Quit using your abilities on your friends, Young-ah,” Yeosang chastises as he steps up beside the pair of you, a pensive smile on his lips.

“It’s okay, Youngie, I promise,” you reassure the younger of the pair, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know we grew up really different; I’m not going to be mad just because you don’t see things my way.”

He nods hesitantly. “You know I don’t think you’re any different because you grew up in the Outer Sector, right?”

Surprising even yourself, you let out a breathless laugh and nod. “You don’t have to tell me that, Young-ah. You show me every day. I know.”

For the second time in the past few minutes, you leave the boy speechless. This time, though, it’s him who blushes.

The silence hangs for a beat too long, and Yeosang clears his throat, breaking the pair of you out of whatever trance you’ve found yourself in. “So… Gardens?”

Wooyoung’s flush deepens, and yours returns with a vengeance as you both nod. “Gardens!” he exclaims, his signature grin returning as he starts back down the path. “They’re not that far in, c’mon.”

True to his word, it only takes you about five more minutes of walking before you find yourself staring up at a set of massive wooden doors. To say you’re skeptical as Yeosang pulls the door open for you, bowing a bit dramatically as he ushers you inside, is an understatement. The sight that meets your eyes isn’t too different from the lobby of the bank Luxe has taken you to on occasion, its high ceilings supported by wood and stone. There are a few planters, at least, and a waterfall trickling away that you can hear but not see; you turn to Wooyoung and frown.

“You promised me grass,” you whisper, unwilling to disrupt the near-silence of the room.

He snorts, the effort in holding back his laughter evident in his face. When he speaks, his voice echoes. “There is grass. This is the lobby.”

Yeosang is ahead of the two of you already, beelining toward a second set of doors with a little spring in his step that you don’t think you’ve seen before. When he turns back to you, his grin is wide. “Come on, I wanna show her the tree!”

Warmth fills your chest as you return his smile, eagerly bounding up beside him, Wooyoung following close behind. “What tree?”

“It’s where we spent most of our off time before Sangie moved closer to the Ring and before you came to the Academy. It’s good for climbing, and the branches are wide enough to sit on,” Wooyoung supplies.

“We found it when we were little—”

“—well, my brother showed us, actually—”

“—and we’ve just been coming ever since. It’s been a while though, I think close to a year.”

You frown at that, thoughtful. “Did… Did you guys stop coming here because of me?” Your eyes are wide when you look up at them, pouting just a bit.

Both boys look away from you, red tinting their ears. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” Yeosang stutters.

The furrow in your brow deepens. “I’ve been keeping you from somewhere you love so much?”

Wooyoung steps in front of you, placing his face in your vision and following your gaze with his body when you try to shift it away. “Don’t think of it as a negative thing. We just found something we liked doing more—hanging out with you.”

His words make your heart clench, and you smile. Once again, you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s sweet, Youngie.”

Once again, Yeosang coughs quietly to get your attention. You pull away with a quiet giggle, grinning at him. “Okay, lead the way, mister impatient.”

His smile is soft and fond as he presses a button in the wall. The well-oiled mechanisms within make no sound as the doors in front of you unseal and slide open, verdant green meeting your eyes.

Your jaw drops.

The buildings outside had been their own ostentatious forms of luxury, custom built towers and stained glass windows boasting the wealth of those who lived within them. This was another, and one you thought you much preferred. Like the roads between the manor lawns, the little paths that branch out from beneath your feet and weave their way into the treeline are the only breaks in the vibrant colors of the flora. Bright yellows, reds, purples and oranges pop against the rich browns of the tree trunks and the green carpet of the grass they sprout from, and for a moment, you’re a little overwhelmed, chest tight.

“This has been here this whole time… and you didn’t think to bring me to it?”

The sharp bark of Wooyoung’s laughter breaks the peaceful silence around you. “First we’re abandoning the place to hang with you, then we’re keeping it a secret… Which is it, Y/N-ie?”

Rolling your eyes with a huff, you reach out and shove against Wooyoung’s arm to throw him off balance. You hear Yeosang grunt as the younger of the pair stumbles into him. Another quick shove from him has Wooyoung leaning back toward you, and the flustered apology you’d been preparing dies on your tongue. You catch your friend with a startled squawk, nudging him back the way he’d come.

When Yeosang’s hand lands on Wooyoung’s shoulder for the second time, he takes the time to direct his own momentum, taking a step forward and turning back to meet your twin grins with a grimace and a glare. “If you’re done using me as a pendulum, can we show Y/N what she's been missing?”

Peace and quiet is what you’ve been missing, apparently. Even ever-excitable and energetic Wooyoung seems to mellow when the trees begin to shade you, breathing a sigh that might be relief the moment you step into the shade. You let them lead you a little way down a path, then off of it, until you're staring at a tree with a thicker trunk than you've seen yet, its branches sprawling outward rather than rising toward the roof. Wooyoung is grinning as he pulls ahead of you two in a jog and leaps up to grab at a low branch, pulling himself up with an ease that surprises you. Your eyebrows raise as Yeosang follows, settling comfortably on a branch next to him. They grin down at you, and you shake your head, hopping up to grab a branch next to Wooyoung. He startles a little at the suddenness of it, but is kind enough to bite back his laughter as you pull yourself up with much more effort than either of them.

YEAR: 1016

Though their schedule remains consistent, you see much less of your sibling as school begins anew. The hours they spend on the night watch means your schedules are entirely opposite of each other, leaving the mornings and afternoons as the only time you see them, and even then only for minutes at a time. They come home with just enough time to see you off with a hug in the mornings, exhaustion clear in their face as they usher you out the door. They stop by Yeosang’s house on the days time gets away from you, reminding you to look after your mother needlessly. It’s a bit of a bittersweet routine, but it brings stability to your home you’ve never known, so you sink into it with a sense of peace.

It’s a sunny morning when Luxe comes home looking more exhausted than you’ve ever seen them, their stormy demeanor contrasting the weather of the oncoming spring. The door shuts behind them and you count the seconds before they join you in the dining room, frowning when you hit sixty and there’s no sign of your sibling. Frowning, you stand, peering around the corner into the living room. Luxe hasn’t shed the outer layer of their uniform, the fine fur along their collar sticking out against the worn upholstery of your couch where they’ve sprawled out, eyes shut. You clear your throat and they sit up, a practiced smile plastering itself on their face at the sight of you.

“Morning,” they greet with a yawn.

You tilt your head, thoughtful. “How was work?”

Luxe’s brow furrows, and they hum noncommittally.

You raise an eyebrow. “I know it’s your job to be the guardian, Berry, but you know you can talk to me if you need to, right? I’m not that much of a kid anymore.”

They’re quiet for a long moment. You’ve nearly given up, turning to return to your breakfast, when they heave a sigh. “There was this kid early this morning. About your age, if I had to guess. He… He was lost, we’ll say that.” You frown. “In more ways than one. It worked out, but…” They shake their head. “It was intense. He was a Scrapyard kid by the looks of him.” Another heavy sigh, and they smile at you again, standing and stretching. “Don’t worry yourself about it, Bug,” they hum, ruffling your hair as they pass you by. “Thanks for asking, though.”

The smile you give them in return is confused, but you nod slowly. “Sure, any time.”

Another yawn leaves them as they finally shrug their coat off and fold it over their arm, still weary but less distressed. “I’ll see you when you get home.”

Wooyoung is buzzing with energy when you make it to class that day, glancing over at you every five minutes and tapping his fingers against the desk. He glances in your direction every chance he gets, and your brow furrows questioningly each time your gazes meet. It’s frustrating, the way he continues to turn away from you, desk vibrating with the bouncing of his leg. You try to corner him at lunch but he avoids the topic bluntly, ignoring every time you bring it up. By the end of it, your mutual friends are throwing you confused looks, and no amount of Rioting Wooyoung does to your happiness can counteract the frustration you feel.

You’re ready to ignore him and head home at the end of the day when he dashes up between you and Yeosang, throwing his arms around your shoulders and tugging you both into his side. You grit your teeth and try to shrug him off, but he only pulls you tighter against him.

“Anybody wanna take a trip to the Gardens?”

You frown. “I should get home, Luxe—”

“Has the night off after this morning. Everyone who was working last night gets leave after what happened,” he explains as if it’s common knowledge.

Confusion creases your brow as you turn to him. “What… what do you mean?”

For the first time today, Wooyoung meets your eyes first, and a shiver runs down your spine. “We can talk about it if you come to the Gardens with me.”

You and Yeosang share a look, communicating silently in the way you’ve picked up from them over the years. “Fine,” you agree in unison.

Wooyoung’s lips pull into a tense smile, and he switches your direction, steering you toward your safe haven. He doesn’t bother climbing into the branches, today, instead settling against the trunk of the tree. “What do you think about this whole thing?”

You blink slowly, frustration peaking at the cryptic question. “What whole thing, Wooyoung? What is your deal today? Why have you been all weird, and what do you mean Luxe has the night off? They’re my sibling, they would have told me if their schedule changed—”

“They didn’t tell you?”

Your jaw clenches. “Tell me what?!” Yeosang settles a hand on your shoulder, and you take a deep breath.

Wooyoung blinks. “They stopped some Scrapyard Techie from blowing up half the Outer Sector this morning… and they didn’t bother to tell you?”

All at once, your frustration vanishes. You blink once, twice, and lower yourself to the grass, Yeosang following. “What?”

“I can’t believe they wouldn’t tell you about this! Hyung told me about it this morning—he heard it from one of his friends,” Wooyoung starts, eyes wide. “Apparently some kid came in from the Scrapyard last night and when the guards cornered him, he pulled a massive automaton out of nowhere and nearly crushed the whole block. One of the guys had to run off to get Luxe—Watch Captain and all—” you roll your eyes, nodding, “and they like… talked him out of destroying whatever he could reach. Got him to surrender the automaton and took him in, I guess. Your sibling’s a hero.”

You blink slowly, stunned.

“It’s kind of weird, though,” he continues, laying back in the grass and pillowing his arms under his head, “because apparently this was just on the other side of the Ring. I’ve always been told that kind of stuff happens further out.” He frowns. “I wonder if this was a fluke or if the Speakers have been lying to us. It makes me wonder…”

The dam holding a whole day’s thoughts has broken, but your best friend’s ramblings quickly become white noise as you process what he’s just told you, weighing it against your sibling’s words from that morning.

He was lost, we’ll say that.

Your sibling’s a hero.

Just like your father.

YEAR: 1018

Another promotion comes quicker than you thought possible, only three years after the last, and your sibling’s speedy rise through the ranks of the Sector Watch becomes a hot topic as graduation creeps closer. Their shiny new “Watch Master” title seems to gain you some amount of notoriety among your classmates, and you’re unsure what to do with it. Fewer distasteful looks follow you throughout the halls of the Academy and the streets of the Inner Sector, and you find Wooyoung’s family inviting you and Luxe over more often, though your sibling can rarely attend. Changbin and Chan don’t scurry off after school quite as quickly as they did before, instead taking the time to talk with you, Yeosang and Wooyoung before you split off in your different directions. Some days you head into the Symposium, curling up in what’s become your spot in the gardens and sharing stories about the few classes you have separate from your best friends while you ignore your homework. Less time is spent in Yeosang’s backyard, and the pile of scrap metal that used to be so large dwindles. None of you are Technomancers, you know now, and now that you’re well into your teenage years, there seems little reason to keep pretending.

You can’t be both, after all.

Things change for the better, subtly, bit by bit. Luxe has to upend their sleep schedule again, shifting from working five nights a week to most days a month, but after the first few weeks, they’re back to their normal self. Now that they’re not on guard duty, they have the freedom to come home and check on your mother, leaving you free to maintain the routine you love so much. You’re both happy to have matching schedules again, and on their monthly three days off, you notice some of the citizens you pass by greeting them with a smile and a nod. Pride swells in you each time, though you stop pestering them about it once it becomes a regular occurrence.

The only real surprise comes at the end of your second-to-last year at the Academy. Luxe has been attending the graduation ceremonies each year since their own passed—”It’s an obligation that came with that pretty copper medal I have,” they explained when you were younger—but never once had you gone with them. Wooyoung explained some time earlier in the year that the incoming class of graduates was expected to attend the ceremony of their seniors, you recalled now that you were staring across the table at your sibling, jaw hanging open.

“I thought he was kidding.”

Luxe raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “No. It’s a tradition at the Academy. Unfortunately for you, that means you’ll probably be expected to join me at the Vanguard Ceremony as well.”

You crinkle your nose. “Why?”

They shrug. “To be polite? I don’t know—the politicking is still a little beyond me. Ask Wooyoung. He probably knows, or at the very least has a theory.”

“But you didn’t do that,” you grumble.

“Yes, I did. You probably just don’t remember.”

You sigh, poking at the food on your plate. “Can’t we just say that Mom needs me or something?”

It’s nearly imperceptible, the way Luxe tenses. If you weren’t their sister, you would have missed it. “No. You need to go; it’s tradition. I know it’s not fun for you and probably seems silly, but tradition matters a lot to the people here. And aren’t you getting graded on it?”

Groaning, you rub at your brow. “Don’t remind me.”

Your sibling shrugs. “Just doing my brotherly duty. It’s only your grades at stake; why would that matter?” They stand, the way they avoid your gaze pointed, and you scowl at their back as they stroll into the kitchen.

The ceremonies are as boring as you expected. You’re pleased when Wooyoung and Yeosang stick around for the second ceremony to honor the graduating Vanguard—apparently a few of the Speakers’ sons are graduating, and the Jungs need to attend to keep their political allyships. Yeosang shrugs when you ask why he’s staying, telling you it’s better than sitting at home alone. Wooyoung seems excited, grinning as the newest recipient of the Nightingale Commendation takes the stage. Luxe looks a bit nostalgic and proud as the cadet makes his speech, and you narrowly resist the urge to tease them right then and there.

You and Yeosang hug the wall as the post-ceremony congratulations begin, your sibling ducking out for a moment to congratulate a few of the cadets they seem to recognize and Wooyoung following his mother around after flashing the pair of you a hearty pout.

“Is this what we have to look forward to next year?” You mutter.

Yeosang snorts. “I don’t know about you, but I am not interested in the Vanguard Program. Even if you were, honestly, I doubt Luxe would let you anywhere near it—too much violence.”

For a moment, you open your mouth to argue—Luxe went through the program themself, after all—but think better of it. “You’re probably right.”

The time seems to pass quickly as you and Yeosang scan the crowd, quietly commenting to one another about outfit choices and the haughty demeanors of some of the attendees, giggling quietly at your commentary. If they weren’t so flustered, you think you would have missed Luxe coming up beside you, settling against the wall with their arms crossed.

You mirror their puzzled expression, and they huff a sigh as they answer the unasked question. “We’ve been invited to a party.”

With narrowed eyes, you glance over at them, and open your mouth to speak—

“By a Speaker. No, we can't just skip it.” You groan.

You were, of course, expecting an obscene display of wealth within the walls of the manor, but nothing could have prepared you for this. Crystalline garlands seem to drip from the pillars and ceiling like water, flowing out from the gilded chandelier dominating the foyer. A grand staircase curves down either side of the massive room—you swear it’s the size of your entire house, for Jupiter’s sake—and you find more gold glinting back at you from its railings, the posts wrapped in a deep red velvet. You’d expected to feel out of place here—Luxe warned you that, despite their years of practice at this point, they still weren’t entirely adjusted—but this… The dress clothes your sibling had helped you pick out feel like rags in the face of the riches in front of you. And this is just the entryway.

You don’t realize you’ve stopped in the doorway, jaw agape, until you feel your sibling’s hand settle between your shoulder blades, nudging you forward just gently enough to keep you from stumbling. Flashing them a glare is second nature, but instead of meeting their teasing grin, you find yourself looking at a near stranger.

Luxe stands tall beside you, face painted in an expression of careful, pleasant neutrality that you’re not used to seeing. You blink, opening your mouth to question them; before you can, a lithe, grinning figure steps up to them, a drink in one hand and the other extending toward your sibling.

“Watch Master,” the man croons, and you barely contain the grimace that threatens to surface. Luxe smiles, though it doesn’t reach their eyes, and you frown a little. “So glad you could make it.”

“Junghwa,” they greet, shaking the man’s hand and bowing in greeting. “It was very kind of Speaker Park to invite us.”

“Of course,” he hums, “all of the most important people in the Sector are here. How could we not?”

Something in the man’s demeanor irks you, though you can’t quite place what. He slides his arm around Luxe’s shoulders, stepping between the two of you, and you watch a muscle in your sibling’s jaw twitch.

“Come, you must be interested in meeting the guest of honor officially, so—” the man continues, steering your sibling toward the grand staircase, and to your surprise, you watch them pull away from him a bit too quickly to turn back to you. The stranger balks.

“Of course, I’d love to congratulate the newest member of the Nightingale family,” they reply, their pleasant smile having returned, “but I should make sure my sister is settled first.”

It’s as though the man—Junghwa—is seeing you for the first time, though you’ve been beside Luxe since before his appearance. You school your expression into something you hope mimics your sibling, bowing respectfully even as his calculating gaze drags over your form and makes your skin crawl. The smile he gives you when your eyes meet again isn’t half as wide as the one he’d greeted your sibling with, and his expression hides what can only be disdain poorly.

Throat tightening, you shake your head, smile tight as you turn back to Luxe. “I’ll be okay. I’m probably just going to go find Yeosang and Wooyoung—”

“Jung Wooyoung?”

You blink and frown at Junghwa as he interrupts you. “Y-Yes. They said they would be here when we talked this afternoon, so—”

His demeanor shifts to something closer to what he greeted your sibling with, and he steps away from them just a bit, leaving enough room between the two for you to walk beside them. “Coincidentally, both your objective and ours are upstairs,” he provides, gesturing toward the grand staircase. “You’re more than welcome to join us, Miss…?”

“Y/N,” you provide, and as you step into the space he cleared, you see Luxe relax a little. “Thank you.”

Seeing your friends is a relief. Your shoulders fall from your ears as you cross into the dining room, and you break into the small talk Luxe and Junghwa are making with a gentle hand on your sibling’s forearm, nodding toward the corner Wooyoung is waving at you from. They smile and nod as they catch his eye, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “Go have fun. I’ll come find you when we need to head home.”

Smiling, you wave goodbye to both him and Junghwa, bowing to the latter. You walk off as quickly as you can without seeming rude, relaxing more the further you get from the older man’s gaze and the closer you get to your friends. You can feel the moment he turns his focus entirely back to your sibling, a sigh of relief leaving you as you float into Wooyoung and Yeosang’s orbit.

“Are all the manors like this on the inside?” You whisper as you join up with the pair, eagerly taking the drink Wooyoung offers out to you.

“For the Speakers… pretty much, yeah,” he confirms with a shrug. He looks natural here, his suit pressed and tailored.

“Jupiter above.” You down whatever is in the thin flute and cough around the carbonation. Wooyoung and Yeosang both bite back giggles, the former with some struggle. Your eyes narrow. “What?” As their gazes remain fixed on you, small grins plastered on their face, anxiety seizes you. “Please don’t tell me I’ve already made a fool of myself.”

“No, stopping in the doorway and gaping before downing an entire glass of champagne is the perfect first impression to high society.”

You flush bright red, and send Yeosang a grateful smile as he elbows Wooyoung in the ribs hard enough to force a grunt out of the younger. “It’s not the worst first impression we’ve ever seen, honestly,” he admits with a shrug. “The Watch Master themself was worse.”

You wrinkle your nose at the title, pulling a laugh from both of your friends. “What did they do?”

The grin Wooyoung gives you is wicked. He gestures dramatically toward a circle of chairs and couches in the corner, and for a moment, you’re reminded of the man that greeted you. Your stomach turns. Must be a Symposium thing, you decide.

“Join me where it’s a little more comfortable and I’ll tell you.”

You have a second glass of champagne in your hand by the time Wooyoung finishes his story, cheeks sore from giggling and grinning. You’ve just gathered your wits when Wooyoung stands suddenly, startling both you and Yeosang as he extends a hand to someone behind you.

“There’s the man of the hour! I haven’t seen you all night. Too busy with all your new elite friends to come say hi to your favorite dongsaeng?”

You turn over your shoulder just in time to see the commendation recipient—Kim Hongjoong, you recall—take a step toward your group, a smirk pulling at his lips. The flat look he fixes Wooyoung with instead does nothing to hide the fondness twinkling behind his gaze. “I would have preferred it to be sooner, but Speaker Park has kept me busy with introducing me to anyone he deems important enough,” he sighs. You catch a flicker of hurt in his gaze, and you try and follow it across the room, but you can’t seem to pick anything out of the crowd. Wooyoung hums knowingly, and you file it away to ask him about later.

When Hongjoong turns back to your group, he’s smiling warmly again. “Yeosang,” he greets with a grin and a wave that your friend mirrors. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Where has Young-ah been hiding you?”

Yeosang chuckles, shaking his head, but you see tension rise in his shoulders. “Ah, you know. The usual places.”

His eyes narrow for a fraction of a second, like he’s picked up on your best friend’s emotions too, before he turns to you. “And you are most certainly a new face. Kim Hongjoong.” He bows deeply.

You flush a bit—he looks a like a prince in his dark suit, you think as he straightens again—and rise to your feet, returning the greeting.

“It’s not often we have new faces,” Hongjoong comments carefully, glancing to Wooyoung as if for an explanation.

“I’m the new Watch Master’s sister. They were given a plus one from the Speaker,” you explain.

A quiet ah leaves him at your words, and he smiles, genuine. “Of course. Speaker Park is… generous that way.” Wooyoung disguises his snort of laughter behind a cough—not well—and, to your surprise, Hongjoong looks like he bites back a wry smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

“You as well, Hongjoong,” you reply politely.

Wooyoung steps up beside you, ready to continue the conversation, but something seems to catch the guest of honor’s eye at the same moment. His smile vanishes as his gaze shifts, replaced with a creased brow and a frown, and once more you follow his gaze only to find yourself confused. “It’s lovely to see you two again as well,” he tells the boys quickly, smile a bit tight. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, though.”

Before any of you can say anything, he steps into the crowd. Wooyoung and Yeosang share a frown.

“Is that… Normal for him?” You ask.

“Not for Hongjoong,” Yeosang mutters. You join them in their frowns.

There’s a clear hierarchy to the way you end up seated, you notice. You, Luxe, and Yeosang end up on the opposite end of the table as the host, Wooyoung’s family seemingly acting as a buffer between the three of you and the rest of the party. They’re pleasant—they know you and Yeosang well, after all, and Wooyoung’s older brother and father seem content to speak with Luxe about their career as you wait for everyone to be seated. Your eyes roam the room, taking in the fine dishware and crystalline glasses, the guests in their silk dresses and suits, one of whom catches your eye unexpectedly. His disoriented—drunk, maybe?—state is what draws your attention, and you startle a bit as your eyes land on his face. For a moment, you think it’s Junghwa despite the fact that he looks closer to your age, but a quick glance reminds you he’s sitting beside Speaker Park. His brother, then.

If not for your curiosity, you’re sure the small scene that follows would have slipped past your notice; no one else seems to pay any mind as he seems to move on instinct to the host’s right. Then the younger brother stops, blinking hard when he sets a hand on Hongjoong’s chair and the man speaks, beginning to rise from it. The other conversations and whirring of little aether ****engines and gears drown out the words that are exchanged between Hongjoong, Speaker Park, and the stunned man, and for a moment, you wish you were a Tineye so you could tune into the conversation. He looks stunned and near tears as he circles the table to sit next to his brother, who is once again wearing a discomfiting grin that you now know he inherited from his father.

A hand waving in front of your face pulls you back to the people around you, Wooyoung’s brow furrowed as he brings your gaze back to him. “You okay over there?”

“Uh, yeah, just…” you try to glance back at the man, frowning at the various bodies blocking your way as the guests pile food on their plates. You follow their lead. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Wooyoung’s expression is the definition of unconvinced, and you nearly drop your plate at the narrowed stare he’s fixing you with. “Come on,” he huffs, following where your gaze had been, “what are you—oh.” He scowls, grinding his teeth. You can almost see the curses he’s swallowing alongside his wine. Yeosang’s brow furrows, and both of you turn to your friend. The young Rioter has never been the best at hiding his emotions, but at the moment, he’s being blatant enough with his distaste that even Luxe picks up on it, turning to you with a questioning, concerned glance between questions from Wooyoung’s brother.

“Park family politicking,” Wooyoung grumbles. Yeosang grimaces, and Luxe seems to wince a bit in understanding.

Your brow furrows further. “Don’t worry about it, Bug,” your sibling murmurs in your ear, at the same time Wooyoung says, “I’ll tell you later.” They frown at your friend, who smiles with a faux innocence and shrugs.

You open your mouth to speak, picking up your fork, but before you can take a bite of the mouthwatering spread you’ve made for yourself, the sound of metal against glass cuts through the room like a knife.

“Everyone, can I have your attention please?” Speaker Park calls. He pauses for a moment, glancing about to make sure all the attention is on him before continuing, “As you all know, we are here tonight to celebrate the recipient of the Nightingale Commendation, Kim Hongjoong. I decided to host as he is a cherished friend of my son, Seonghwa.”

The Speaker smiles at the younger brother—Seonghwa—and your gut twists. It’s like the smile Junghwa had offered your sibling earlier when you entered, but with a glint of something sharper in his eyes. Park family politicking. Your sibling’s shoulders have tightened and a glance across the table toward your friends shows Yeosang shifting uncomfortably and Wooyoung looking downright murderous.

“Before we continue, I feel it is only appropriate that he make a toast to celebrate his future squad mate’s accomplishment.”

The room falls so quiet you swear even the automatons stopped whirring. Seonghwa and Hongjoong wear matching expressions of surprise, and next to the man now in the spotlight, Junghwa smiles that same smile again. You can see the family resemblance as you glance up at his father.

Though you can’t hear what is said from your place, you can tell the elder brother says something, because Seonghwa rises to his feet a bit too abruptly, and sways in place. Hongjoong leans forward as if to stand, but a hand on his shoulder from the host seems to stop him.

Your sibling tenses next to you as shaky fingers raise a near empty glass, as though they’re preparing to jump into action.

“To Hongjoong,” Seonghwa begins, voice strained and shaking. “To a friendship… a friendship that has meant so much to us both. And to… to a future that…” He trails off, and you can see the tears from earlier welling anew as his eyes glaze over. Sympathetic hurt lances through you and you frown, tensing. The silence seems deafening as it drags on, you and others glancing about with concern until the sharp crack of the glass in Seonghwa’s hand shatters the silence.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong gasps, shooting up from his seat as the man winces. Luxe stands too, eyes glued to the younger man’s bloodied hand. A pointed look from the Speaker keeps both of them from aiding his son, Luxe sinking back down next to you with a slow nod and Hongjoong dragging a narrowed gaze back to his friend.

“Stay where you are, Hongjoong.”

You frown. Hadn’t Luxe been ready to help, too? A glance to them is all it takes to register their frustration, jaw tight and eyes burning with something you think might be anger. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a memory begins to rise to the surface.

“Everyone, please excuse my son’s poor manners,” Speaker Park continues, drawing your attention back to the present, “it appears he has had too much to drink.” His father addresses the guests, a tense smile on his face that portrays only his displeasure. “Seonghwa, apologize and then go get yourself tended to.”

You watch as Seonghwa takes a deep, unsteady breath, eyes fixed nowhere in particular, gaze unfocused. Blood drips from between his fingers, staining the tablecloth red, and you can see a few of the Speakers seated near the head of the table turn away, covering their mouths.

“I… I’m… I’m sorry,” he stutters, voice barely audible to you. “I’m so very sorry.” He bows his head once more in apology before quickly turning and practically sprinting out of the room.

Silence rolls across the room in his wake, broken quickly by Speaker Park clearing his throat once his younger son is out of earshot. “I offer my sincerest apologies, everyone,” he says, setting his glass down and bowing deeply, a hand pressed over his heart. “It may be a bit less formal, but perhaps we can return to the ballroom for our dinner.”

An automaton appears at your side with a wave of his hand, and you startle as it plucks your plate and silverware up from in front of you. It turns toward the door and waits as those sitting closer to the head of the table make their way from the room in pairs, chatting with each other in hushed tones. You catch a glimpse of Hongjoong’s profile as he walks beside the Speaker and, though he nods politely along with the words leaving the man’s mouth, you can see the tension in his jaw—he looks a bit sick. Your chest tightens, and you sigh.

You’re the last person out the door, walking alongside Yeosang. The cliques you’d identified earlier are only confirmed as you cross into the ballroom, which has been laid out for more intimate, pre- and post-dinner groupings. Speaker Park and his eldest son have settled with their guests of honor at a table at the front and center of the room, framed by the night outside behind them. A woman dressed in a stark white pantsuit with greying blonde hair and a hard expression settles with them—you think you remember her droning on and leading the call and response at the ceremony—along with another bearing a striking resemblance to Hongjoong—his mother, you guess. Families and friends seem to drift toward each other, and you stick close to Yeosang beside you and Luxe and Wooyoung in front of you, fingers drumming nervously against the side of your wine glass. The room is nearly full by the time you enter. A seat remains open next to Junghwa—meant for his brother, you presume—and Wooyoung’s family begins to head toward the one remaining empty table. Yeosang follows—he’s Wooyoung’s guest, after all—and you see him smile a little as he greets Yeonjun, now seated directly behind the pair.

You frown, looking to your sibling for guidance. Luxe scans the room quickly, more used to these functions than you are, and nods to the opposite side of the room where two open chairs sit together, beside a group of people you don’t recognize. Swallowing your nerves, you give them a soft smile and a nod and begin to follow, only for a voice to make you freeze in your tracks.

“Watch Master,” Junghwa calls. You bite back a grimace as you turn with Luxe, who wears a polite smile. “Why don’t you join us? We have an empty seat, after all.”

You think you see his father frown, but beside him, the blonde woman sits up a little straighter, smiling at your sibling. They look at you, then back at the crowded table. “I’m flattered, but—”

You place a hand on Luxe’s arm, making eye contact with Wooyoung. He’s nodding eagerly, waving you over as Yeonjun kicks the open seat next to him out. “I’ll go sit with my friends,” you offer. Luxe’s smile tightens, but they nod, and you part ways, your automatons following behind diligently.

It’s like a breath of fresh air as you settle between your friends, and for a moment, you wonder if Wooyoung is poking at your emotions to make you relax. He seems just as preoccupied as you are with the light conversation in the more intimate atmosphere of the ballroom, and you quickly brush away the concern, letting yourself sink into the plush chair and relax.

“That was… quite the scene,” Yeonjun mutters as you settle down next to him, and you nod.

“You’re telling me,” Wooyoung grumbles from behind him, turning in his seat to face the pair of you. “If I were Seonghwa, I wouldn’t have been that nice getting put on the spot like that.”

“We don’t… know that he was put on the spot for sure,” Yeosang mutters. “He looked really drunk.”

Wooyoung frowns, and for a split second, you feel frustration you were barely aware of spike. He takes a deep breath, forcing his zinc to turn off, and the feeling disappears. “I don’t think so. I’ve sat in on some of his presentations this year, and he’s a very well-prepared person—almost obsessively so—and a great speaker. If he knew he was going to make a speech tonight, he wouldn’t have been drunk or unprepared. And look at Hongjoong,” your eyes pull up to the guest of honor, seated across from your sibling, “he looks as pissed as he does worried.”

“That’s… fair,” Yeosang concedes with a sigh. “I just don’t know why any parent would do that to their own child.”

You hum in agreement, but Yeonjun and Wooyoung share a look you can’t quite pick up the meaning of.

YEAR: 1019

The last year of your schooling is entirely uneventful, but you come out of it with a much better grasp of your Allomantic ability and graduate with honors. Yeosang does too, and you’re both pleasantly surprised when, despite his marks against him over the years, Wooyoung does well enough to make the honor roll for the year. You attend both of the ceremonies once again, supporting Changbin in his decision to join the Vanguard Program, but this year is blessedly free of upper class afterparties.

The summer is what brings chaos. Just as you begin your new job as a librarian in the Nexus, a flu sweeps through the Outer Sector. Your first instinct is to rush out and check on your friends, thoughts of everyone you spent the first years of your life with falling ill making your heart twist. Luxe barely stops you from dashing out the door with a weary look on their face, reminding you that it’s late enough that travel between the Inner and Outer Sectors is restricted. You heave a sigh and head to bed instead, a restless night ahead of you.

You’re half-awake and the sun is barely peeking over the horizon when your aurvox pings, and you heave a sigh as you roll over to check it. It takes a moment, in your dazed state, to read the words staring back at you from the screen—[URGENT] NOTICE: NEXUS PERSONNEL TRAVEL REGULATION—but when you do, you’re shocked awake. The missive outlines a new constraint on travel between the Inner and Outer Sectors for all employees working directly in the Nexus. Your heart sinks and you hope, silently, that those you knew will see the other side of the mystery flu.

It makes Luxe’s hours longer and, more often than not, the only time you have to spend with your friends is over your lunch break, when you can meet in the gardens or one of the few squares within the Symposium. Wooyoung can tell there’s something troubling you the moment he lays eyes on you, and his Allomantic touch is so light now that you barely notice him tugging at the joy you feel when your eyes land on his figure. You do, though, and flash a glare as you settle across from him.

“You look tired.”

You roll your eyes heartily. “Thanks, Wooyoung, that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear. You’re such a charmer, it’s a wonder you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

He blushes a little and glares back. “How dare I worry about my best friend.”

“You saw the notice?” You redirect.

Something in his posture has you narrowing your eyes at him even as he nods. “Yeah… freaky.”

“I wouldn’t call a flu freaky. Unless you’re a germophobe, which…” You raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re not.”

Wooyoung grimaces, picking at his food. “I guess, but… It’s spread really fast. Like, we knew nothing about this a month ago, and suddenly they’re saying like half of the Outer Ring is sick?” He glances around. “Seems weird to me, I dunno.”

You sigh, leveling him with a flat look. “You’re being a conspiracy theorist again, aren’t you?”

His ears tinge pink as he huffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m just making observations.”

You snort, shaking your head fondly. “Aren’t you always?”

Worry fades to the back of your mind, ever-present but never pressing—after all, what can you do?—through fall. It’s only when the autumn leaves have all fallen and the air has lost all warmth that you consider Wooyoung’s words again—seems weird.

Word spreads quickly in the Nexus. There’s often little to do but study, work and gossip, and the library is a prime spot for both. By now, the flu is old news, and besides, the season for sickness is upon Sector One. Different gossip reaches your ears as you’re shelving late one evening—a Nightingale Commendation recipient has apparently deserted his post and was officially marked absent without leave earlier this morning.

For a moment, your heart stops as you think of your sibling. But no—you saw them this morning, heading off to their shift as usual. It takes a moment of listening, but eventually, you catch a name. Kim Hongjoong.

The memories come back almost immediately of that disastrous dinner and the ceremony that preceded it. His speech was inspiring, his dedication to and respect for the Vanguard apparent in every word. It seemed… Strange, to say the least, that the dedicated new Elite would abandon his post. Luxe shares the same sentiment when you bring it up over dinner, their brows furrowing thoughtfully with a hint of concern.

“I can ask Wooyoung if he knows anything if you're worried. They—”

“No,” Luxe cuts you off quickly and with a little bite, frowning, and you startle a little. They blink and take a breath, softening. “It's okay. If there’s anything I can do, I'm sure I'll hear about it at work. You shouldn't concern yourself with something like this.”

Slowly, you nod. There had been a darkness over their gaze when you brought up Hongjoong's AWOL status. As much as you wish you could pick it apart, you can see the shutters your sibling puts on the topic fall into place and latch tight. They’re worried, even if they refuse to admit it. Silently, you resolve to find a way to take the stress from their shoulders.

When you finish your shift, you’re a little surprised to find Wooyoung waiting outside the library for you, Yeosang by his side. The usually bubbly Rioter is curled in on himself, arms crossed over his chest and leg bouncing furiously. He's dyed his hair a bright shade of red since you last saw him, and you can't help but giggle a little to yourself at the thought that it nearly reflects his mood. Yeosang looks considerably less tense, but there’s worry clear in his eyes as they dart between the library entrance and Wooyoung. He's the first to notice your approach and he seems to sigh in relief.

“Y/N,” he calls, apparently relieved.

That seems to snap Wooyoung out of his thoughts, but not his sour mood. He jumps to his feet. You can tell he has something to say, but the way his eyes dart around anxiously send a silent message—not here.

Sharing a worried glance with Yeosang. You turn to head home, unsurprised when the boys follow with no prompting. “You’re worried about Hongjoong,” you say once you’re seated on the living room. He nods.

“I didn’t think Luxe would have told you,” Yeosang mutters.

You shake your head. “They didn’t. Everyone in the Nexus is a terrible gossip.”

“I talked to Seonghwa,” Wooyoung says suddenly. Both you and Yeosang go quiet, focusing in on him. He thinks for a moment, jaw tight. “Hongjoong had some kind of… Mental break before he disappeared. I guess he came home one night and Joong was panicking, muttering something about a lab… And then he just… shutdown. A few days later, he was gone.”

“He was a Vanguard Sergeant, right? Maybe he just couldn’t handle the stress. Luxe says it’s pretty common.”

To your surprise, both Yeosang and Wooyoung look at you sideways. “I didn’t know him that well, but that’s not like Hongjoong.”

Wooyoung nods in agreement with Yeosang. “He’s always been really good under pressure. And he’s wanted to be in the Vanguard his whole life,” he says, “I can’t imagine why he’d just… snap like that.”

“But Seonghwa wouldn’t lie to you, either. He cared about Hongjoong more than anyone—they were inseparable.”

Again, Wooyoung nods. He’s silent for a long moment, then sighs. “What if this has something to do with that flu?”

Yeosang groans. You don’t see Wooyoung as much, now that you have your careers to think about, but Yeosang sees him almost daily, you know. “Not everything has something to do with the flu, Woo.”

“Okay, but the guy directly under him in command got sick like the day after he left!”

“If he were sick, he’d be in the hospital, not missing,” you say. “And I’m sure that if the flu were making people have psychotic breaks, they’d have more travel regulations than just ‘don’t go to the Outer Sector if you work in the Nexus.’”

“What if they’re trying to hide something like that, though? To not incite mass panic or whatever.”

“I don’t think anyone in the Symposium is sober enough to register what panic is,” Yeosang chuckles.

You nod. “You two can still travel to the Outer Sector, can’t you?”

Both of them nod, Wooyoung frowning. “With the usual amount of difficulty, yeah.”

“Wouldn’t they have locked down the entire Inner Sector if the flu was making people have mental breaks? We’d know whether they wanted us to or not. Like half of the Outer Sector has this thing last I heard. We’d be seeing it.”

Wooyoung’s frown deepens. “Would we, though? We don’t know what happens in the Nexus, not fully anyway. They control what news we receive and what we don’t.” He pauses, wringing his hands as he thinks. You and Yeosang exchange a concerned look. “He was climbing the ranks. He’s one of the most ambitious people I’ve ever known, and he’s never had any mental health issues, no matter what kind of stress he was put under.” He hesitates. “I think Hongjoong found something.”

“Found what, exactly?”

You and Yeosang spin, nearly jumping out of your skin at your sibling’s voice. Wooyoung’s head snaps up. They’re looming a little in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and still in their uniform. **

“Something,“ he insists, standing. “I don’t know what, but they’re hiding something from us and—”

“Wooyoung,” Luxe says, their tone carefully neutral. They look like they’re still in work mode, and you can feel your stomach drop. It wouldn’t be the first time Luxe has had an after-hours meeting at home—your mother’s well-being needs constant monitoring, so you’re within a five minute walk from the Watch Command Center, after all. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Your friend balks for a moment. “Why? I’m trying to figure this out here! Hwa said there was some secret project Hongjoong wouldn’t talk to him about, and now he’s missing! You can’t tell me it’s not a little strange.” When Luxe says nothing, he takes a step forward, eyes narrowing. “If you know something and you’re not spreading it like wildfire, then you’re no better than Soohyuk and his freaky little clique. You’re suppose to be protecting the people, not feeding into whatever f—”

“That’s enough,” a familiar, stony voice calls. General Nightingale steps into view behind Luxe, gaze icy. They bow their head and step back as Wooyoung pales. “Your concern for your friend is admirable, Jung Wooyoung, but I assure you there is nothing nefarious going on in the Nexus or the Vanguard. Though we’re not sure what caused Sergeant Kim’s desertion, I assure you that we are doing our utmost to find him and ensure his safety.”

Wooyoung’s jaw tightens, and you can see the contained rage behind his eyes. “Sure.”

“I would watch your tongue a little more carefully if I were you,” she says, the corners of her mouth curling. “You never know who may be listening.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, do clear out,” Luxe says, smile tight. “I hate to bring work home, but this flu is only making tensions rise. We have a lot to discuss and it’s not for your ears, so if you’re sticking together, go to Yeosang’s or something.”

You hesitate, glancing between your friends, the general, and your sibling. Wooyoung grumbles something under his breath and leaves, Yeosang quickly following. With a shaky sigh, you watch them go, parting ways at the street. “I’ll go check on mom,” you mutter.

Luxe’s weary sigh follows you upstairs.

The next morning, they’re lingering in the dining room. “If there’s enough to be done that you needed to bring General Nightingale here, shouldn’t you have gone in early?”

They sigh. “I wanted to talk to you. Things are chaotic in the Outer Sector—the war is worse with the flu, both sides are blaming each other…” They trail off, shaking their head. “Not the point. The point is, you need to be careful around Wooyoung.”

You blink, stunned. “What? Is this because of yesterday? You know he always says stuff like that.”

Their jaw tightens, eyes growing stormy. “And that’s exactly why you need to stay away from him. For both of your sakes.”

“Luxe—”

“I’m serious. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but it sounds dangerous. I know he’s your friend, but… Be careful, okay?” Their tone softens a little at the end, a bit of worry showing. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

They’re gone before you can say anything more, and you feel like there’s a hole in your chest at the thought of honoring their request. So, you don’t. You’re quieter about it, letting Luxe believe that you’re being careful, but still spending lunches with both Yeosang and Wooyoung, though the latter does seem to keep to himself more often. Neither of them question why the three of you don’t spend any time at your house anymore. He doesn’t talk with you about his theories anymore but sometimes, when you’re filling them in on the latest gossip, you can see his gaze go dark as the cogs in his brain spin.

There’s one piece of information that you vow to keep to yourself, though it’s such big news that you’re sure the boys will learn of it sooner rather than later. Wooyoung’s theories keep coming back to you as you process it.

They’re hiding something. Hongjoong figured out what it was.

Seonghwa said he had some kind of mental break.

Why would he run away from everything he ever worked for?

When you see them that day, both of the boys look solemn. For once, you can tell Wooyoung isn’t spinning up a theory or trouble, or if he is, the news is hitting him too hard to complete the process. He’s the one who finally looks up at you from the strange stasis they’re in with a slow blink and says it.

“Park Seonghwa was killed in action two days ago.”

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