"you're watching, right?" he calls over his shoulder. the bottles are all arranged neatly, gleaming in the light, and while he should be focusing on them, it's mostly on the large stuffed animals that are stacked behind the counter, before he turns and juyoon comes into view. "i'll win the biggest one for you." taking a stance he thinks would help him throw the ball the best to knock the bottles down- bottom lip between his teeth before he sends it sailing- is only for it to thwack ! sadly against the wall and bounce off.
"two more tries!" the attendant tells him, cheery and upbeat, and hyeonju's still staring down the ball on the ground like it's personally offended him. shifts his positioning again, and tries another arc. it barely skirts by the edge of a bottle without dislodging it, but it manages to shift the formation a little. he stares hard at the attendant before she can tell him one more try! and tries to bite his tongue that it's rigged. or the wind, or something, tossing that one last ball in his hand up vertically into the air and catching it. says fuck it and finally sends the last one only for it to hit straight into the middle, knocking the rest of the bottles down. it has hyeonju turning around with a grin stretched across his lips, hip leaning against the table, all casual. "see? i told you."
he had been making quite a wide arc around the palm and tea leaf readings. actually, quite a large path around anything magic related- too close to all of that uncertainty in his heart, worsened with the way he sees the trails of red strings tangled and woven throughout the crowd of the festival. it's worse enough with the promise of the flower lanterns- will the mermaid grant him something entirely different, again? he's staring at a particular knot when he happens to run straight into someone, and it causes the paper in his hands to flutter down to the ground between them.
"shit, i-" he doesn't happen to take a look at who he'd run right into and instead kneels downwards to try and dart a hand out for the fortune he had been carrying around with him in tightly held hands, trying to decide his fate- if he reads, or not, if he would truly like the answer he would find once more, or to feel even worse for knowing. it was free, and hyeonju tries not to think of how the person stared at him before they handed it over, hurrying off right after and straight into this person. it's really not in his best interest to have anyone else knowing exactly the things he was inquiring after, either, words scribbled on just the other side of this paper as he grabs it. and when he rises just to see a familiar face, it has him holding it behind his back, expression blank. "it's you. again." he says, and wonders how the whole festival landed them both right here.
he'd only disappeared for a minute. it was long enough to return back with two cups of watermelon punch, balanced in each of his hands and an equal smile to match. "look, aren't these huge?" admittedly, he had been hanging around dal-rae's booth mostly to sneak as many bites of raindrop cake as possible, but he did need something to wash it all down. the other stall had been half in the corner of his eye for the past hour, anyways, and he'd been wanting to try it all day, and sneaking off was easy, in-between customers.
"here, the guy gave me another one. why don't you take a little break? it tastes really fresh." hyeonju leans against one of the stall's posts while he hands it over, sipping from his own. if he did actually buy the extra punch, he'd never admit it- how many years of this festival had he missed out on, anyways? he might as well make the most of it now that he can. "he said he picked the watermelons this morning, said he grew them all himself. biggest watermelons i've ever seen, honestly, i wish i could buy one to take to my grandparents." he wonders if they'll make their way down to the festival from the outskirts, at least for the lanterns. knows his grandma told him she used to wish for him every year- and wonders what wish she'll send along, now, that he is. "is it good? i even gave you the one that had extra pieces in it."
JUYOON ...
"you better get this one right," he tells him, spooning lazily at his own ice cream, "or i don't think i can believe you anymore."
for so many years, hyeonju didn't know where the key came from. of the limited amount of things that he had in his backpack when he was in seoul, this he remembers lingering near the bottom, a modest string tied through the top. and it's true, too, that hyeonju didn't know where any of it came from. any memory from his childhood felt like it was hastily erased off the page, leaving him with the shavings sprinkled through of what he had been allowed to keep- the change of clothes and a sweater that didn't smell like a home he recognized, a few books, this key.
the key he has around his neck, now, just settled underneath his clothing, peeking through when his shirt dips down just enough to expose it on his chest, chain links gleaming in the heat. juyoon didn't give it new meaning- no, they reminded him of the meaning that it already had, the one that hyeonju had been fated to forget. one that he's sure he never wanted to. looking at juyoon feels like looking through the lens of a camera and trying to focus on the subject but it's constantly losing that goal, but he knows what he's looking for. something familiar, sorting through the pages of a book and remembering that set of words, i remember you, i remember you, i want to remember you.
it comes back to him in snapshots. small moments, small feelings, but ever since juyoon was in front of him for the first time since he came back- even despite all of that time in-between, he was familiar. there was something here that he doesn't even think magic could erase, a comfort and a warmth that can't be scrubbed away. it happens to him from time to time, walking places, eating things, pieces of his memory that come back to him. it's like watching a movie, where he sees himself through another lens, experiencing these things, making all of this meaning just for him to have lost it.
but he wants to try. he feels it as vehemently as when he sees the strings tied around everyone's fingers, the red string stark and tangled against the background, something he hadn't known before but he knows, now, that bitter twist of his heart and the habit he had tried to kick, always staring, wondering if he could find the other end, why wasn't he able to see his own, if there was truly nowhere he was fated to belong, himself.
it doesn't matter right now. he barely even looks as juyoon hands him the water bottle, and hyeonju rolls his eyes and brings it to his mouth, takes a few clearing sips, anyways. "you keep making those faces and throwing me off." clearly, it's not his fault. even if what he's going off of is more like- he keeps looking at him for recognition, there, when he can't find it himself. maybe he keeps associating familiar juyoon with what he's tasting and thinking it's familiar, too.
"why did you listen to me? i don't know how we even reached the freezer-" a sigh, shake of his head, quietly fond. "at least we were ambitious about it." and even if he doesn't remember the afternoon juyoon tells him about, it still feels warm, and he knows it's not from the sun. memories feel nice like that, in ways hyeonju never knew they could. still, he scrutinizes the flavors that he pushes forward towards him, cleaning the spoon off in his mouth as he contemplates them. nothing sparks for him just from sight, and he flickers his gaze back up to juyoon, back down, picks one and takes a generous bite. it melts on his tongue, eyes lighting up with the taste.
"this is good. if you did bring it for me and i can't remember it, then i can't even believe myself." he lets his spoon slide through for one more taste before he tries the other. his nose scrunches, glint of silver, and he pushes it towards juyoon.
"gross. i still don't think it's either of them, though." he finds that things that leave a stark emotional response with him initially tend to still spark for him later, and this isn't giving him that. it's good but not familiar. just new. he tries another bite of the first to clear the second flavor from his tongue, and scoops up another spoonful, leaning over the table to hover it in front of juyoon's mouth, his other hand cupped underneath to catch any drips. his necklace leans with him, polished clean and gleaming in the air between them.
"c'mon, open up. try this and tell me you wouldn't remember it just by sight, either. believe me." there's a grin on his lips, just this side of teasing, because no, he hasn't gotten many of these right, but he thinks the memory of this afternoon is enough to make up for all that he can't recall.
RAON ...
"hey, saseo-nim!" she called, her patience having ran thin and needing somebody's--anybody's- help. "i'm looking for a grimoire, roughly third century BC. it'd be big, yeah? extremely fragile and impossible to read to anyone who didn't know akkadian. you have anything like that?"
--
out of anywhere on the island, hyeonju's sure he spends the most time in the library. and if he wasn't working there, he was sure it would probably still be between the library and the ocean, and even when he's standing on the front, weathered steps of the place, roots crumbling up through the concrete, he laments that he can't see the waves from here.
there's already a cigarette trailing smoke between his lips, as he watches the front doors open and reveal the one and only patron that had been inside. he had been leaning against the rusting handrails and trying to get in as much of the clear, outside air as possible- he had slept in the library overnight, on accident, waking up with smudged patterns against his cheek the shape of old, worn pages and the scent deeply imbedded in his nose.
he figured he deserved the break- his lungs are fucked, anyways, so it's really just for the pretense of it. hyeonju doesn't really expect her to wave at him, and so he arches a brow, silver piercing gleaming as he considers her question. takes a few steps down to meet the same level she's standing on, watching the way the ivy climbs up the building, invasive and green.
"you can just call me hyeonju." he says, flicking the cap of his lighter idly before sliding it back into his pocket, taking the smoke out of his mouth to talk clearer. "yeah- really huge. i think it's in the back, but it's in the restricted antiques section. it's close to crumbling to a million pieces, so i have to keep it back there. i can get it for you whenever you're done."
there's a nod of his head towards her smoking, because he has half of a mind of just going inside like this himself to try and find it. he does it sometimes on slow days, usually leaves the doors open in the night when it's cooler to try and air things out, thinks maybe a cat or something will walk in and keep him company, then.
"i can leave it on your table, where you're set up, if you want. or you can come back with me, see if there's anything else back there you're looking for. if you want that book, there might be more back there that would be what you're looking for then in the front."
JINSOL ...
her thoughts and vision swam for a moment as she tried to find her footing, grabbing at his arm to have some kind of anchor. "following you?" she repeats, confused at his accusation. she hadn't even been aware he was there but his face was very familiar. "oh, you're always at the library pouring over books, yeah?" she inquires as she's finally able to take in the entire scene. "are you okay? "
--
he steadies her once he realizes how much his curiosity had made him a little rash, lowering his hands once he was sure that she had a steady footing. hyeonju still can't shake that feeling, that one that lingered in his chest as he looked at her- he had seen her before. where? it seems to meld together into one singular thing- something, someone, at the edge of his vision.
"yeah- yeah, i work there." he says, jaw set as he looks at her, tries to place a memory to a thought, to that feeling. shakes his head a little and steps back, hand reaching out for the tree, feeling his fingers skitter down the bark, raining down onto his boots, leaves crunching as he moves. doesn't know a normal way of trying to figure out why he felt like he did- did he just sense her in the woods? is that all?
looking around them, they seem to be the only ones here for as far as hyeonju can see through the trees, and if he looks up at the sky, figures it must be sometime near sundown, light waning even worse underneath the cover of trees. he must of lost a chunk of time laying where he was, thinking and thinking and thinking. maybe that was why this seemed so far away from him- something he couldn't place.
"i'm fine. i just feel like- i keep seeing you?" he runs a hand through his hair and leaves it in disarray, falling half into his eyes. "not even just in the library, around town, but i don't think.. we've ever met before?" hyeonju feels a little lost, trying to grip for an answer. maybe there isn't one, and he should stop trying to look for it so hard.
"just- i didn't know i'd run into anyone out here, too. are you heading back to town? guess it's getting a little late." hyeonju points out, keen to leave before something really does start following him out of the woods.
DAL-RAE ...
a soft ding! that she usually welcomed with a whole hearted smile made her ears prick up and she turned towards the door while wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist. "it's 2:30am, we're clos- oh! hyeonju. come on in, hun! i thought you had forgotten about me over those old, boring books!" she teased, waving him in.
--
hyeonju knew his way to the bakery almost as closely as he knew the way to the library, the way to the outskirts where his grandparents still resided. even if these paths had been lost to his mind before, he knows, them, now, and it's as familiar as the ring of the bell when the door eases open under his hands. he expects it to.
he smells like worn books and dust, lungs clogged up with it and lingering smoke, still flicking his lighter between his fingers, thumb moving over the engravings that he'd memorized now, each swoop and curve of the metal. his bag, digging into his shoulder as he's greeted with a wash of a sweet scent as soon as he steps in the door and deposits it on one of the tables, half spilling out with books.
he grins as dal-rae calls out to him- if anyone else was up this late and seeking out the bakery, he'd want to meet them. "i couldn't forget about the sweets waiting for me after i closed up. if anything, they clear all of the library from me." if he had been reading a little too late without noticing the time- well. he wouldn't mention it.
hyeonju makes his way to the back and leans over the counter, hair swept back too many times by his hands, leather jacket pulled taut around his elbows as he leans.
the words echo in his mind- you are never truly alone. they had been accompanied by a press of his grandmother's hands against his cheek, cool and weathered by years of use. he thinks of it now, laying down in the dirt and watching the trees sway above him, branches shivering down leaves as he lets his fingers curl into the grass.
hyeonju knows he's not alone, here.
yes, there are the animals, and yes, there are the trees and the flowers and the brush that keep getting thorns stuck in his clothes, only for him to yank rips in them moments later to detangle himself from their grasp, but there's something else too. it's the same feeling he's had for months, now, anywhere he goes. in the market, there's so many faces he can't put a name to, but something familiar always flashing across his vision- when he happens to look up from the book he's reading, there, another face that doesn't have a name, but he sees everywhere.
he's half convinced he's making it up. the town is small, sure, but hyeonju only knows so much of it to be familiar to him by now. it's not like the city where he passes by so many people to not remember them again, a parting gift of a memory- here, it feels purposeful. here, he tugs strands of grass from the earth and feels them wither in his hands with a mutter underneath his breath, returns them back to the earth to restart the cycle, sits up, arms on his knees, looking around for some sort of clue.
"if you're out there, you might as well show yourself." he's tired of pretending the feeling isn't there, standing, footsteps heavy in the leaves, crunching over a branch and rounding the trunk of a tree, mouth set in a determined line. he doesn't expect a person to actually be there to collide into, hands reaching out to steady as he curses. he'd actually been expecting something else- a ghost, an animal, whatever else creeps around this island and frequents the forest.
hello, hello! this is star (he/him, 21+) with do hyeonju, a witch that can probably be found rotting at the library, staring blankly at the sea, shakily drinking an abnormal amount of hot coffee.. if you happened to be looking for him. (are you sure you want to?) here you can find his profile and right here, his plots! you can also find more beneath the read more, and i'll be around to plot or chat if you'd like. i hope you have good morning/day/night whenever you see this! <3
his memories from when he was younger are a little hazy. he doesn't remember much other than being in and out of several families for adoption, but never being able to stay long enough for it to stick feeling like a real family. everything just always feels off.. wrong to him, anywhere he goes. he also has no information about his birth family or where he came from, and when he's old enough, he's on his own as soon as he can be.
he does a lot of wandering, a lot of couch-surfing, here and there work and favors to keep him afloat. he's in a relationship that lasts the longest he's ever had anything- a few years, something he thinks may last a lifetime, and it ends abruptly, leaving hyeonju heartbroken and needing out.
having to get out, literally, as he's kicked out and finds nowhere else to go. he finds himself on a bus and lets it take him as far as he can until his money nearly runs out, and he lands on mabeob island. he had heard about the meteor showers before, and feeling lost, stays for enough time to wish on a falling star. and then he just.. doesn't leave.
maybe it's the fact that there's nothing else waiting for him, but there's something about the island that's familiar. and if there was a curtain over his eyes, it's slowly being lifted. ever since the meteor shower, he can see the red strings tied neatly around each person's ring finger, trailing in knotted anchors to the other side of their hearts, but his own hand, empty.
it comes to him in pieces. this island is more familiar than he thinks. one day, he's perusing fruit at the markets when an elderly women drops her basket and takes his face in her hands and starts to cry. and he doesn't know her, doesn't know the man behind her, either, but can see the strings tying their hands together.
it's his grandmother. there are pictures of him, here, before, as a child, and she explains how he had been taken away for his own safety. his mother, having fallen in love with his father despite the arranged marriage her parents had set forward for her, had hyeonju unexpectedly and left him in the care of his father's grandparents.
his father, heartbroken and throwing himself into work to handle not being able to be with the one that he loved, one day becomes lost at sea, a sailor of his own boat that sold fish in the markets. he still hasn't turned up to this day, but once his mother's grandmother had discovered hyeonju's existence still on the island- she ordered his mother to arrange him to leave to not be a distraction, as she had been visiting hyeonju in secret despite ending things with his father, and him becoming missing.
his memories had been taken from him of before, to somehow dissuade hyeonju from returning, yet he still found himself back, anyways, his own strings pulling him back to his roots. it's his grandmother that tells him of his magic and of how she suspects there was more that happened the night he was taken away, that she swears the spell his other grandmother cast on him to clear his memories did something else, too, to his magic, his identity.
it makes him think of his wish- of how he had only wanted to know what true love really was, if it even really existed, and why love had always been so hard for him to find. to keep. and looking down at his hands, untangled from any red strings to lead him to anyone, wonders if there's more there than he thinks. that his whole life, there had been more than just him, that maybe it wasn't all actually his fault.
it's not something he can easily unlearn. and meanwhile, learn more of himself, and his magic, and so he takes up a job at the library and spends his time reading up on anything he can get his hands on. lives at eopshin heights but often visits his grandparents at the outskirts, and slowly pieces his life together.
it's where he is now. after living so much of his life thinking he was human, and not knowing of so many pieces and finally getting memories, bits of it come back the longer he stays. all he wishes is for more understanding. to be able to believe, again, in all of the things he thought he had lost hope for. to get all of those answers he had always been seeking but never had been able to find.
tldr . hyeonju is a witch with a Lot of family baggage that he's just now starting to uncover, along with his magic and all of his memories slowly starting to come back, all of the perils he brought with him from seoul (no one will ever love me no one has ever loved me it must be My fault), and that he can now see everyone else's red strings but his own
and also where is his mom and grandmother and the rest of his extended family on that side . did they just Run after they decided the whole fate of his life and Probably was the reason he ended up like this anyways? are they hiding from him? did they make themselves hard to find?
he will keep reading his books and trying not to rot all of the grass underneath him when he lays down in it to breathe for a little while (that is Not him messing up patches of the forest.. that's so funny. fall came a little early this year. oops)
plots! i do have a plots page here but i'm open to just talking something out or putting our muses into whatever evil thing we can cook up if you want to just do something fun! but some quick ideas:
give him someone to go dancing with and forget everything for a little while, i think he would be really into the feeling of being in the dark and getting lost in the music, even if they Were just pretending for the fun of it (who they are what matters that everything is kind of Not okay but it feels okay in this moment here with you)
he is probably making too much of a ruckus above/below/beside your apartment and it's because he is singing and dancing to music and unaware of how loud he's being. yell at him or let him bring by some cookies as consolation later
he keeps seeing you around town and remembers that you have that one book overdue and he's just like. please give me the book back. ill pay you (he will probably just snatch it and run he has no money but please still give the book back the library is missing so many as it is)
he probably is at the beach a lot staring out at the water thinking about Life (and if his father is still out there. if he even knows about him) but maybe they have a habit of running into each other and just start having a Beach Book Club but the books are just that they talk about life and feelings and the ocean makes them feel a little better about it
really anything! friends or enemies or someone to drink with or carry home at night or bump into and turn it into a streak of Why are you always right in front of me when i am trying to go anywhere
you knew him when you were young and he's forgotten now but he really wants to remember you. keeps asking you to show him photos and take him places and eat the same ice cream you did on that afternoon and smell the same flowers to try and remember. maybe he did remember awhile ago and now he just likes spending time with you. someone to remind him that the love really is there and it really does matter (and he really does care)
anyways this is way too long already but if you have read this far then hyeonju and i give you a gold star! (his is a little rumpled but mine is so shiny and glittery) my dm's are always open if you want to plot anything out or chat, so i'll hopefully see you there if you'd like!
I nourished stars, dreams, and souls, never noticing that my own veins were being emptied of their generous blood. / Now I ask myself what star will come to drip itself into my exhausted heart, and to what fountain will I be led, where I can drink like a weary animal. / I ask myself what I will do here on earth with this worthless, defiant body. And I hear my body answer: / —What will I do with this spark that believed itself the sun and this breath that believed itself the wind?
Dulce María Loynaz, tr. by James O’Connor, from Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems
i think love is when i put myself to bed even when im tired, and i carry myself up the stairs even though my knees ache. and i think love is when i buy myself a coffee when im broke, and i know that ill get myself back later. and i think love is letting myself love someone, even though i am so scared. love is a heavy thing that carries you as much as you carry it.
