in her mind’s eye, she sees a ridiculous little caricature of a ballerina, their light snuffed out by a evil warty shadow witch. it’s stupid-- there’d been no casualties in the south, not that she’d heard of, anyway. @wxbitna was alive, probably safe, and most definitely just ignoring her because she was mad at jihyun.
she sinks cookies into milk, nervously crunching and getting crumbs all over their couch, half-expecting bitna to materialise out of thin air and yell at her for taking her mug-- which, by the way, jihyun’d bought, thank you very much!
say song bitna thrice, and she’ll appear in the mirror.
except jihyun just gets a ‘k. eta 5min’ message.
she books it from their dorm to the southeast courtyard in 5 minutes flat, still clutching the mug she’d brought with her in her hurry. hair blowing madly around her face as she watches the hovercraft land, the passengers disembark, all of them looking more worn than the other.
the minute jihyun catches a glimpse of bitna, she flings the oreomug, and then, herself in the other’s direction, a “FUCKING BITCH!” bitna’s only heads up.
[ YISEUL ]
HI … AM I USING THIS RIGHT ? OH. APOLOGIES … THE CAPS ,
[ YISEUL ]
UHM … UNTIL I CAN FIGURE THIS OUT … ARE YOU ALRIGHT ? I DON’T … KNOW QUITE WHAT’S GOING ON BUT … SENDING … SUPPORT YOUR WAY ?
[ YISEUL ]
I MEAN … MEan … oh, the caps is off ! But I mean, sending support through cheering you on ! Or something ! I … hope you are doing your best ! You got this ! ! ! I am in the North … doing … my best … ????? Haha !
[ JIHYUN ]
you got it bestie!!!!!!!!!!!!
[ JIHYUN ]
soooooo proud of u!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[ JIHYUN ]
feel like we’ve come really far with technology 💗
[ JIHYUN ]
that’s an emoji btw!!!!
[ JIHYUN ]
my nail just chipped so i’m taking a 15-minute break to grieve.
[ JIHYUN ]
how are u doing in the north????? have u found a rich n hot guy/girl/whatever???
[ JIHYUN ]
times like these really bring people together!!!!!!
beaten down nine times, gets up the tenth. it’s this persistence that’ll be the death of him, mother says. it’d been the first time he’s mentioned his lofty dreams of being a guardian fairy, an idea shot dead by mother’s chastising. or so she thought. because at the end of the day, it’s this persistence that gets him here, within the great walls of this academy. and hadn’t mother once complimented this same persistence back when it served the hwang brickmasons? lock him in a room and he’ll manage to figure a way out, mother praises.
well, he’ll see how well it does in the thick humidity of his nerves.
breathe in, breathe out. the grip around her palm is a little too tight, so he adjusts it within a fraction of the second. she’s as chipper as the admin staff he’d talked to, but this one feels more like a personality trait than a means to pacify him. so he smiles, thinks he’s pulling it off.
“yeah, i did,” except she’s speaking quickly, or maybe he’s just finding it hard to hear her over his concern with his sweaty palms, or the thump, thump, thump of his chest “oh—” the reflex is to appraise his bag, and he frowns at the implication. was he meant to bring more? she’s the one with the technicoloured list here, not him. there’s a look he pays her, halfway between a smile and a grimace, and it communicates his unfortunate resignation. point is, it’s too late now: it’s not like he can run on home to the family he’d forsaken just to grab a few things, and not expect them to haul his ass back and cuff him to a chair, “this is the only one, ma’am.”
and he knows she doesn’t mean it, but her comment’s given strength to his nerves and so they creep up his biceps, past the curve of his neck and seizes his jaw and tongue. point is, he’s nervous, like the sorts of nervous that makes a man blab, like “do you know where…”—he glances at the yellow sticky note the admin staff gave him, the one he’d stuck onto his bag’s handle—“…‘west wing room 1A’ is?”
when he looks up at her, he makes sure to pay her a polite smile. catches the intimidating foolscap note she holds in her hand yet again, then shuts his eyes and wrinkles his nose in mild chagrin, “sorry, i’m… skipping ahead, aren’t i?”
so… how well is this persistence doing?
the chuckle falls from the smile and he shakes his head. gestures a palm out to request for her to proceed.
much as jihyun’s loath to admit, most of her life’s been a bubble.
see: she grows up as a han fire fairy around kids of similarly comfortable upper middle class upbringings, who are all handed the tools they need to succeed in life at every step. not coddled, no. they figure it out themselves--- with the help of good tutors and connections, of course, but that’s not to say they’re not good at what they do. when jihyun graduates high school with a gpa of 3.89, it’s easy to find herself a spot in maruhanu’s political science program, seeing as they’re all contacts in mom’s phone. she’s on track to graduate with a honours degree, and she’s already started working on her law school application...
well. you get the gist.
birds of a feather flock together and all that, except jihyun’s broken away from the pack; now she’s lost in the wilderness of seohae magic academy surrounded by people of different walks of life. and not even, like, in a volunteering at a soup kitchen type way! she’s actually so totally immersed! being able to empathise with the less fortunate will do wonders for her political career.
that’s what she thinks, anyway.
because the truth is, han jihyun cannot fathom how people live differently from her; and it’s like this she makes these sorts of faux pas wherein she forgets not everyone lives like her. “oh, is a moving truck coming soon?” there’s no way people can fit their entire life into one teeny-tiny bag, right?
“woooow, it’s gonna be a lot of work moving in while you have classes. let me know if you need help!” the offer is genuine— despite her professional aspirations, jihyun doesn’t believe in empty promises. she helps people because in some way or another, it benefits her. builds connections and fosters good relationships, which is, of course, vital, if she wants to get anywhere in life.
hwang junho seems like someone she’d like to stay on good terms with, and so, jihyun begins construction on the foundations of the relationship she’d like to build. allows him his time to speak, instead of barrelling ahead like she has most of their conversation, smiling up at him patiently. “1a? ‘course i do! what sort of awful tour guide would i be if i didn’t?”
but not everyone moves at the pace she does, because she forgets to check to make sure junho’s following her as she sets off. “i live in 1a myself. east wing, of course.” and so, begins the work of unraveling the nerves that must accompany being the new kid. “oh, you’re lucky, though; your roomies are so fun! they’re all nice.”
COMMUNICATIONS INCOMING FROM THE NORTHEAST UNDERGROUND TUNNELS…
TIMESTAMP: 13:50
@wxjihyun
HAKSU : howdy, is jihyun there?
[ this is intelligence specialist IM HAKSU’s 4th ( fourth ) time calling for fire charmix HAN JIHYUN. regardless of clearly accumulating experience using the comms, HAKSU has yet to master professional etiquette. ]
HAKSU : jihyunie, can— can ya check up on seulki again? ‘cause… last i hear is she’s still doin’ some… tough rubble-movin’… like jenga n’ all that… can ya lemme know if she’s finished that building? this’ll be the last time for real. so… thank you kindly, and uh— haksu out— uh… o—over.
HAKSU : also please update me on this a-s-a-p, it’s an emergency, sorry n’ thank you so much. over.
HAKSU : …and out — over n’ out.
[ fire charmix HAN JIHYUN is currently connected to air charmix GU SEULKI. a holo-notif on her comms device informs her of the other connection initiated by intelligence specialist IM HAKSU and the message waiting for her. the transcriber notes that her recent outgoing comms have mostly been to either GU SEULKI or IM HAKSU. HAN JIHYUN ends her communication with GU SEULKI, midway through the latter’s speaking. ]
JIHYUN : jihyunie’s here.
[ the transcriber notes HAN JIHYUN’s lapse into informal communication and that radio protocol has not been used since the second call. ]
JIHYUN: seulki’s fine. she was talking to me like, literally, as you called me. she wants me to ask if you wore your... seriously, is she your mother?--- she wanted me to ask if.. if you wore your long padding because it’s... cold.
[ the following sentence is muffled. ]
JIHYUN: maybe- [...] shitty partner? [...] beomseok, are- [...] no, it’s hakseulki, it’s- [...] therapist calls it co- [...]
[ a rustling sound, like a cover’s been removed. ]
JIHYUN: anyway. seulki’s perfectly fine. you are perfectly fine, too, so i’ll pass that on. how’re you doin’ in the north? do you need help with anything?
JIHYUN: right. over and--- wait, by help, i mean, like, directions. if you ask me to ask if she’s had lunch, i’ll find a way to block you on here, bestie. over and out.
seona— it’d been mama, then— wraps jihyun up in a scarf she plucks from her own neck, and jiyeon, only 5 and a mere 2 years older than jihyun, demands to know if she’s cold, trying to take her own coat off for her younger sister. winters find them all huddled around seona, because seohae winters are vicious, and there’s no need for a big, bulky heater that might set the house on fire when dependable mama is around.
they come to the giving tree every year, and buy a sprout from one of the vendors situated around the base of the tree. that year, the ribbon tied around the pot is a bright red, which jihyun wears around her head the entirety of the drive back. they keep the ribbons every year, and tie them around the little plant that never quite seems to grow quite right.
that year, she wishes, hands clasped together, for everyone to be happy like today.
the last time she comes to the tree is when jiho’s 3, and she’s 16. old enough to not be a complete asshole and ruin the magic for jiho, but still enough of a pissy teenager it dampens the mood. an awful extended family dinner, plus her suspension doesn’t help much, either, and there’s a frosty silence between her and her mother that even an alight science lab can’t thaw.
it’s a year of change— her siblings have moved out, both having gotten into university, and she’s stressed and sensitive studying for entrance exams.
still, they buy the sprout like they do every year. jiho pulls the ribbon off before jihyun’s even done making the bow, and she gets so annoyed she leaves first and walks until she can get a cab home. she’s not proud of it now, but anything goes when you’re 16 and feel like the entire world’s against you.
she returns the next day, after she unwraps the 5 presents under the tree with her name on it, and wishes they’ll all be together.
(maybe it’s because she makes the wish after giving day, but it doesn’t come true.)
the first giving day without her siblings, she visits the giving tree. in the morning, so she doesn’t run into her family.
as always, it stands tall and proud, and jihyun really wants to take an axe to its trunk and hack to her heart’s content, because what amount of wishes will bring her siblings back? how many mythical sprouts will she have to cultivate to have them all be together again?
she doesn’t, because 1) she doesn’t want to go to jail, and 2) she’s sure the giving tree’s magic is stronger than hers.
(maybe when she’s an enchantix….)
she buys a sprout for her own room; maybe this time, with the help of some of her handy nature fairy friends, it won’t wilt within a month!
it proves to be an awful decision, because jihyun forgets her bag is full of gifts she’s yet to hand out, so she’s lumped with a pot spilling soil, all the way from beomseok’s dorm room, where she leaves a pair of gloves, to the other end of the campus. there’s a little jihyun trail, and she wonders if there’ll be enough soil for the plant by the time she’s finished flitting around the entirety of sma. no matter if not— just a small matter of soil theft, to help plantie thrive!
she doesn’t so much as find the sprout as much as kicks it over. after jihyun’s finished a string of curses that’d make maruhan herself roll over in her grave, she moves plantie to find… plantie #2.
a friend!
a friend she cannot carry, because she’s already struggling enough with plantie #1.
the mythical sprout’s the furthest thing from her mind— excuse her for being occupied! — but she does feel bad a plant’s just out in the cold like that, and resolves to come back for it if no one’s grabbed it before then. she gets 3 meters, before she’s doubling back and hefting it on her other hip.
after the trials and tribulations of hefting 2 plants and an oversized bag full of presents she’s yet to hand out to the girls’ dorm back to her place, jihyun sets them down on the coffee table.
hopefully bitna won’t throw a fit over these…
it’s a rather handsome sprout— a deep navy bud with petals dotted a glimmering yellow, blossoming at the heart of the academy’s NORTHWEST COURTYARD, and plantie #1 pales in comparison to it, even if it’d been the cutest sprout available. jihyun resolves to give #1 more fertiliser, but she’ll have to make a trip to central for that. now, though, she can definitely do this for #2.
with a little wave of her hand (and a sigh of relief nothing else got set on fire), she heats some water up and pours it into the soil, humming an old song about the giving tree.
oh, shit.
the giving tree! was this her sprout?
oh, shit.
was she fucking cooking her giving tree sprout?
“SORRY, MARUHAN.” jihyun wails, covering the soil in ice.
( —— Ψ. park beomseok is a fucking marvel, isn’t he? one would think, when all of this is finally fucking over and he’s revisiting his conduct throughout this whole affair, that he’d come up loathing. as always, they’d be wrong about him. ) jihyun. ( —— Ψ. because beomseok doesn’t regret a fucking thing. not the tremor in his timbre, not the tightness of his grip around jihyun’s wrist, not the way his actions may be misinterpreted as one of a coward. see, whoever said change is the only constant doesn’t know what the fuck they’re talking about, because beomseok’s other constant is that he’s never given a fuck about what other people think of him. ) i— i need to stay here. ( —— Ψ. and he’s lying when he says he doesn’t regret a thing, because that tremor in his voice is fueled by regret. like the regret of coming to this academy, when he should’ve been home taking care of kitae. like the regret of nodding along mutely when jihyun had volunteered to be deployed to the south, all in the name of duty. and what is duty to a man like him? ) i can’t go to the south with you. ( —— Ψ. he looks at her with resolve. the sorts of resolve to loosen his grip on her wrist, like he’s letting her go. ) i need to— i need to stay here. kitae needs me. ( —— Ψ. park beomseok is not a coward. he’s just a bleeding fucking heart. )
( ` ♡ let it be known that han jihyun is a mind over heart kinda gal. while the sky had been crashing down around them this morning, she’d been planning to get duckie and birdie into the bunker with her family--- and when she’d realised her family had zero idea what was happening, had texted jiho a 10-step plan to get evacuated safely, all the while having a mini meltdown. she’s pragmatic. level-headed. relentlessly rational. ) kitae? ( ` ♡ but she is not heartless, despite what some of her uni classmates might have to say. ) yeah. sure. ( ` ♡ jihyun’s familiar with the pain of losing a sibling too early, and it’s not something she’d ever wish on her worst--- no, actually, she would. --- loved ones, and beomseok just so happens to fall under that umbrella. ) wish you’d told me, like, before 5m away from deploying. ( ` ♡ they have a quick word with the instructor, who seems frazzled enough already, and jihyun adds on an apology for good measure. ) y’know what, it’s probably good we stayed. ( ` ♡ sends a text to bitna to secure a picture of the fire artefact, that gets left on delivered. fuck. ) probably lots of bugs there, anyway, and i didn’t bring my electronic fly swatter.
( ` ♡ still, han jihyun believes transactions are what makes the world go round--- even if it’s crumbling down around her as they speak, and so, she makes this transaction in beomseok’s favourite currency. ) so, kitae? ( ` ♡ it’s both personal curiosity as well possible future ammunition. jihyun’s willing to bet she knows more about beomseok than most of the students here, but 99% still isn’t 100%, and han jihyun loves unravelling a good enigma. )
“oh, i’d fuck all of them.” she’s being honest! what happened to it being the best policy. “for his sake, though, i think i’d kill junho. he’s more...” prudish comes to mind. "proper, and i feel like i’d ruin his life, and not in the good way, if we slept together or got married.” she’s got enough affection for the co-parent of birdie to spare him--- BIRDIE.
“no, wait, i take that back. i’d marry him. i need to keep him around, or birdie would die in my hands.” they’re very capable hands otherwise, but jihyun doesn’t know if she exactly trusts herself to keep birdie alive. “fuck his life. i need him. we’re getting hitched.” she looks a lot like her mom right now, dysfunctional marriage and all (not that it’s a point you should ever raise to her if you’d like to keep all your hair.)
“so, it’s between offing yiseul and nabi. who am i more attracted to... who do i wanna... sleep with... more...” that’s impossible to answer. she’s gotta shift her perspective--- who’d benefit her more from being alive? “okay, i sleep with yiseul, right? and then... sorry, nabi baby, but i’m turning your room into duckie’s.”
“i watch keeping up with the seos, like, religiously. but that’s because i actually know seo sejeong, and i hate her fucking guts, and after every episode, i tweet stuff about her on my burner account.”
damn.
this really is a truth potion, huh?
rose rises in jihyun’s cheeks at her involuntary admission. it’s unlike her to be so outrightly hateful. it’s childish and petty, and as much as she is both of those things, it’s not nice having your dirty laundry aired. or well, her burner flitter account @user24722872139 exposed.
𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 the academy’s central dome, ground floor
𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 0912, 8°C, clear
𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 @wxjihyun
there is a room in this building with his name on it.
it echoes like a deafening mantra within the four walls of his mind, but it sounds a lot like a sinner’s prayer. and what this means is it brings comfort, hope, to a man who is so close to falling to his knees. should hwang junho be a saint, then the academy exists as his tempestuous vice, and it is with these constituents that the picture is painted: the first streak of white chalk against a fresh blackboard.
in other words, hwang junho doesn’t belong here. it is a lovely morning on a cold winter’s day, yet his heart beats a nervous tattoo against his chest and he’s forced to tighten his grip around his one bag lest it slips from his sweaty palms. he’s holding onto hope for the wrong things, he hears mother tutting, like pathetically waiting around with a single red rose to offer to an unfaithful lover.
but there is a room in this building with his name on it. he holds onto this fact, reminds himself weakly that he belongs. now, he just needs to find it.
with this renewed resolve, he approaches han jihyun, the winx who’s meant to be his orientation buddy, as an admin staff had enthusiastically put it. she’d sounded too chipper in her explanation, and it is in this way that junho realises he’s not doing the best job at hiding the fact that he’s nervous.
take two. junho takes a steadying breath.
“hwang junho,” the introduction is paired with a polite grin, and he offers his new buddy his free palm for the handshake. notes belatedly that this is a terrible idea, considering his sweaty palms. nonetheless, he soldiers on, “guess you’re here to show me the ropes.”
it’s no one else’s fault but hers that she’s uprooted her entire life. the stunt she pulls this time is far too reminiscent of an air fairy, even by her relatively untethered, deranged fire fairy standards.
still, jihyun stubbornly seeks out a sense of normalcy. she likes to think she gets it from her dad. he likes to say that with persistence and not force, water hollows out a stone. and so, jihyun keeps making small, persistent efforts. introduces herself to the staff in the admin office her second week in sma, when she’s sure she’s found a foothold to steady herself on the ledge she’s pushed herself onto. offers her assistance, forms and elects herself president of a one-woman student union. just like in university, except it’d been much less lonely then.
that’s not to say jihyun doesn’t have force, though.
“hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” she waves a piece of flimsy triangular foolscap. it’s 3/4 garish highlighter pink, and 1/4 yellow— her highlighter’d run out of ink midway through her colouring it and she’d had to nick bitna’s— with ‘JIHYUN’S CAMPUS TOUR’ hastily written across it in eyeliner. a last-minute addition she’d tacked on when she saw him fidgeting with his bag, because well, what if he didn’t know she was jihyun of the famed jihyun’s campus tour?
she takes his hand with a firm shake— jihyun’d taken a seminar on how to give effective handshakes back in university— and a beam. “i am, indeed! han jihyun, fire fairy, at your service. it’s nice to meet you.” she gives him a quick once-over, and her beam brightens impossibly. “did you get here okay? what about the rest of your bags?”
“y’know, i have this friend, beomseok. loves secrets. i don’t ask too much about it, because i don’t wanna find out why and possibly lose my respect for him in the process, but he looooves them. always likes to ask me what mine are, and i always tell him the same thing i’ll tell you. i don’t have any! i’m an open book!”
(it’s true. she has lesser-told secrets, like how when she was 15 and developed a nasty little habit of swiping candy bars from checkout counters. embarrassing anecdotes she doesn’t exactly broadcast to the rest of seohae, like the one faetube account she lost the password for that still has 3 public videos of a 10-year-old jihyun’s self-composed breakup songs she’d written when her boyfriend of 3 days had called some other girl pretty.
but no secrets that she’s never told anyone. between everyone she knows or has met while drunk in a bathroom, han jihyun really is an open book. it’s good, considering her future political inclinations. a squeaky clean past, marred only slightly by a melted hershey’s kiss.)
( ` ♡ han jihyun loves attention. revels in it, in fact, and is of the opinion she should always be in the center of it. today is a day for eating her words, though. finds herself all too uncomfortable--- a very foreign feeling!-- with the stares directed at her. ) beomseok. ( ` ♡ at an uncharacteristic loss of words, as the crowd of students splits into an unwilling red sea around them, mutters of ‘seriously? here?’ amongst the annoyed dissent of voices. jihyun gets it, because, well, seriously. here? ) bro. ( ` ♡ it’s like this she remembers. they’re bros. well, buddies, and she’s willing to bet she knows park beomseok better than anyone else at the academy, and beomseok doesn’t do this unless there’s something going on. ) y’know what, let’s move to the side. ( ` ♡ tugs him to the side, where they’re less of a bother for those boarding the hovercraft, and bitna gives her a look from where she’s already seated and saved one for jihyun. ) what’s going on, dude?
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