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berryunho · 3 months

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THE ANSWER: XXVII

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

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You take in San’s words, blinking aggressively. You pull your face away from his, your questions clear from your expression.

San squeezes his eyes shut, unable to look at you for too long. “I can’t explain it now. Or, well, I’ll explain it all soon, but we need to leave.”

“Leave? Like, the farm?” You question, your words coming faster than you can control them. “What? San? Did something happen?”

He opens his eyes, then, staring into yours. The pain is evident in his face, his internal struggle still battling.

“After today, I can’t predict what Hongjoong will do to get you to break.” San admits, tears welling in his eyes. “He’s going to hurt you, and if he can’t, he’ll kill you.”

“What happened to you, San?” You ask, more concerned by his disheveled appearance than by the revelation of the thoughts that you’ve had hundreds of times.

He shakes his head. “It’s not important, I promise. I’m fine.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine, San, just shaken up, I guess. Do you know how Hongjoong did that?”

His hands squeeze your forearms tighter, gripping you like he’s going to lose you. “I have no idea. But if he’s willing to go this far, I… fuck, I can’t believe it. I have to get you away from this.”

You can only gape at him. You can’t believe that San is saying these things to you. San had always been so loyal to Hongjoong, even leading up to the very moments before the ceremony. What could possibly have made him flip his entire script so quickly?

It’s almost touching to realize how much San must care for you. If he’s willing to abandon this for you… Fuck.

“San, when can we go?” You try to not sound so eager, but the prospect of getting away is so sweet.

He presses a kiss to your forehead before replying. “I have to think on it, but I swear that it will be soon. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to figure it out.”

You want to ask what it is that he’s figured out or what made him realize, but that sits in the backseat compared to the thought that suddenly rises to the forefront of your mind. “What about Haseul? And Mingi?”

San freezes, still searching your face. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, but no words come out.

“San?”

“I,” he pauses, biting his lip, “I’ll have to think about it more. We might have to come back for them.”

You don’t like that idea, but you had thought it yourself a few times before. It would be a lot easier to get yourself out and come back with people that could actually stand a chance against this group rather than try and sneak out with someone else, risking all of your lives in the process.

“Just trust me, yeah?” He smiles, letting go of your arms to readjust his shirt.

You nod, throwing the blanket off of your legs. This is as good of a time as any to get out of the infirmary. Whatever had been going on with San, they must not care too much if you’re back with him considering the fact that he’s here now.

Once San is reassembled, he offers you his hand again, helping you stand as you swing your legs off the bed. The two of you leave the room, passing by Nayeon as you walk down the hallway. She waves, smiling while you go.

San drops your hand once you’re outside, but keeps one on the small of your back. He could reasonably pass that off as just helping you stay upright.

By now, it’s mid-morning, almost 11. The sun is high and the fields—

For the first time since you had arrived at the farm, you saw the farm equipment actually being put to use. A huge combine harvester moves through the field, still relatively close to the barn. You’re awestruck to actually see work being done, amazed that the time has passed so quickly.

You halt in your tracks, lifting a hand up to shield your eyes from the sun so that you can watch the machine move. It doesn’t move particularly fast, but, by God, is it freaky looking. You wouldn’t want that thing coming to run you down, that’s for sure.

Which only reminds you of the time that you had tried to escape. And then resorted to hiding in the corn.

When all of the corn is harvested, how will this place look? Barren. Cold. You don’t want to picture it; all that land with nowhere to hide. Will you even have to see it? Maybe you’ll be gone by then.

A waving figure catches your eye off in the distance. You’re easily able to identify Yeosang once you look fully at him, and you raise your hand back in greeting, having to squint your eyes against the sun.

San doesn’t wave back, instead ushering you to turn back toward the compound and keep moving.

“Are we in a rush?” You ask, allowing him to steer you toward the door.

San glances around, “I wouldn’t say that. But I’d feel better if we were alone in our apartment.”

Well, okay, you guess. You would think that it would be a bit suspicious if you both suddenly started acting differently, but it’ll probably be okay for right now. At least until you can talk to San about everything.

You head inside, trying to walk to the stairs. But you’re stopped before either of you can make the first step, a voice calling your name behind you.

It’s Wooyoung, you realize, before you even turn around to face him.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

You glare across the foyer at him, wondering what kind of nerve this kid must have to be talking to you like you’re best friends again.

He has a point, though. You turn your attention to your stomach, but you’re not surprised that the general sense of nausea and unease still lingers there; nothing like hunger. “I’m not hungry.”

You know better than to directly accuse him of drugging you again. You really don’t know if he did… it’s possible that he didn’t. But, really, looking back on it… Ugh, you’ll just ask San later. He had already told you what he thought, but… you don’t know. Just, whatever.

Wooyoung squints, a flat expression on his face. “Are you feeling alright after everything? Not just anyone can say they stood down a Guardian.”

That’s really rich, coming from Wooyoung, you have to admit. The guy that basically told you that you need to accept your role in this place because he isn’t happy with his, either. Maybe he’s trying to sympathize with you, as a fellow skeptic. You won’t take the “compliment” at face value, but you still don’t appreciate the remark.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you shrug, hoping to end the conversation there.

He doesn’t look convinced. “I’ll have someone run some food up for you guys.”

San thanks him for you, clearly ending the conversation there. He ushers the both of you up the stairs and to your apartment, swiftly locking the door behind you once you’re inside.

You look around your apartment, almost expecting something to have changed, but nothing has. Everything is just how you left it this morning, not a single thing out of order.

“Are we talking about this now, then?” You question, looking to San as he paces in front of the couch. He doesn’t stop pacing, but he does gesture for you to sit down, “you’re really worrying me, San.”

He halts in place then, frowning, but not sitting next to you. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” he lets his sentence hang in the air, “I can’t believe… I can’t believe it.”

“What happened to you while I was out?” You want to reach out and grab his hand, but you can’t, he’s moving too much.

San starts pacing again, “well, first of all, sorry for disappearing on your right before the ceremony.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Seonghwa appeared out of nowhere and pulled me aside to talk about literally nothing and then, by the time I realized what was happening, the ceremony had started and I couldn’t have helped you.”

He freezes, as if recalling the memory, “and then the ceremony happened. And, and that thing appeared. I hope to God that Hongjoong or Seonghwa or someone was able to explain that to you, because I can’t. I don’t know what that was, I’ve never seen anything like it or heard of Hongjoong—” he stops abruptly. “I mean that I don’t know how that happened. And I saw it grab you and I seriously, I thought that it was now, that, that Hongjoong had enough of you and— I thought you were going to die.”

It’s only now that his voice falters, breaking with his last sentence. You’re no stranger to San’s emotions, but his tears always have an effect on you. To his credit, he does a good job of keeping it mostly together as he keeps speaking.

“But then it was over, and you were on the ground, and I tried to stand up to go to you, but Seonghwa held me down, and I couldn’t do anything. I felt so helpless watching Hongjoong pick you up, watching Mingi run to his side to take you off of his hands and carry you out. I tried to get up again, but Seonghwa wouldn’t let me go. I almost fucking hit him.” He shakes at the memory, his voice thick with both anger and his tears. “We stayed there for a long time. We just waited until Hongjoong came back, and he sure fucking came back. He was incensed. Didn’t even say why. Even Seonghwa looked nervous as he screamed and bitched and threw shit around.”

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

“You will not take her from me!” Hongjoong screams, at neither man in particular. “I don’t care which one of you it is; I forbade it for a reason and I will be fucking respected!”

Seonghwa doesn’t move an inch at San’s side. San doesn’t say anything, either.

Hongjoong’s rage permeates the chapel. “Why isn’t she scared? Why isn’t she terrified, whimpering and begging for her life at my feet?” He starts pacing up and down the aisle, kicking copies of The Answer that he had thrown to the ground. “Doesn’t she realize that I am the only thing standing between her and a cold grave?” He whirls to face the other two men. “Answer me!”

“I think she is scared of you,” San mutters, “but she’s good at hiding it in front of you.”

Hongjoong’s face contorts into a smile, and San knows that he’s fucked up. “Is that it? How do you know, San? Do you hold her at night while she cries in your arms at my cruelty?”

San only blinks, unable to respond in a way that would please his leader.

“She doesn’t know about Haseul yet. What is she going to think when she finds out that her boyfriend let her die?”

“Hongjoong—,” Seonghwa cuts in, “She can’t know about Haseul, even if you want to scare her. It’s invaluable for us to be able to hold this ove—”

“You will not tell me what I can and cannot do, Park Seonghwa!” Hongjoong yells, “I am in charge here! I am! If I want her to know about Haseul, she will know about Haseul.”

“Of course you are, Hongjoong, you don’t need to be so angry.” Seonghwa tries to console Hongjoong, to absolutely no avail.

Hongjoong puts his palms together, resting his index fingers on his forehead as he thinks. “I cannot take this disrespect much longer.”

The chapel remains in tense silence, neither San nor Seonghwa wanting to be the first to say something.

Apparently that’s not what Hongjoong wanted, either. “Seonghwa,” he gets the man’s attention, “hold San steady for me, would you?”

San knows what’s coming. Hongjoong’s had it out for him for ages, and this is finally it. He’s outlived his purpose, his presence is only backfiring, it’s time for him to go. He knew that it was coming, he should’ve known that it would be now. His death would utterly destroy (Y/n), there would be nothing for her to do except accept her fate.

Seonghwa does as Hongjoong instructs, standing behind him to hold his arms in place. San doesn’t struggle. He has to be strong. Go bravely. That’s what he wants.

But Hongjoong surprises him. He takes a step toward him, smoothing his own ceremonial shirt before grabbing the hem of San’s and pulling it out of his pants.

Oh… San really hadn’t been expecting tha—

But then Hongjoong hits him. Just once.

“We’ll see how she feels when you’re not so pretty.” Hongjoong spits, literally, onto the floor of the chapel.

San can hardly hear him through the pain rippling over his jaw, but the message is clear enough. He doesn’t need a mirror to taste the blood, or feel it pouring down his chin. Seonghwa lets go of his arms and it takes everything in him to not double over. Instead, he looks up at Hongjoong, unintimidated.

Hongjoong stretches his hand. “She asked for you, Seonghwa. Better go comfort her.” He glares up at him. “But not too well.”

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Of course, unbeknownst to you, San leaves the… sensitive details out as he recounts Hongjoong’s tantrum for you. Not a single word of Haseul is spoken to you, but the rest is mostly accurate.

You sit in horror as San recounts these details to you, unsure how to even react. You’ve always known that Hongjoong is capable of violence, and Seonghwa, too, but to hear of them acting such violence onto San, of all people… it’s almost unthinkable. At some point in the not too distant past, Hongjoong had trusted San to watch over you at all times of the day, and now? His own paranoia has driven him to violence?

Your thoughts wander to Seonghwa against your own better judgment. Seonghwa is his own person, he’s taking care of himself. He doesn’t want you meddling in his relationships, and he has made this more than abundantly clear.

But how does Hongjoong treat him? It can’t be kind. You’ve seen the slights between them, seen Hongjoong deny Seonghwa of even the simplest pleasure. Behind closed doors, what do they talk about? How does Hongjoong act around him?

Though you’re loath to admit it, you have to worry for him. If Hongjoong is violent with you, the person he considers to be one of the most important figures in his religion… that doesn’t bode well for Seonghwa.

“San,” you bring your thoughts back to the present moment, “I’m so sorry that you went through that for me.”

He doesn’t stop pacing, almost ignoring your sentiment all together. “Hongjoong is crazy.”

“I’ve known that for a while now.”

San smiles. Smiles. “I don’t think you understand the extent of it.”

You find that hard to believe, but there probably are things that San knows about Hongjoong that you don’t.

“But that’s not important for right now. I just need you to keep your distance from him as much as possible; I’ll ask Seonghwa for his help—”

“Seonghwa?” You’re astounded. “You’re going to ask Seonghwa to help us escape?”

San shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, not looking at you. “No, but he’ll keep you away from Hongjoong. That’s basically his number one priority, anyways.”

It makes sense. If Hongjoong is as volatile as he was with Seonghwa and San earlier, he’s a danger to be around. Even more so than usual. But getting Seonghwa’s help… “Won’t it be obvious what we’re trying to do?”

“You already avoid Hongjoong,” San says. “I don’t think it will be a drastic enough change to draw attention, as long as you’re not refusing to see Seonghwa.”

The way with which San says this last sentence… is different. He’s not stuttering anymore, you realize. He hasn’t been for a while, now. When San is upset, his stutter is more pronounced than anything else, its absence is suddenly so jarring that you have to wonder why you didn’t realize when it stopped.

There’s no emotion in his voice anymore. No personality, no San.

You stare up at him, watching him walk back and forth in front of you. He’s not upset, not anymore, at least. What is this?

“San.” You try to get his attention. “Are you alright?”

He finally stops walking, if just for a second, to give you a good look at his face. “I’m fine,” he states. His eyes aren’t red, his breathing is perfectly even, his expression flat. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re scaring me,” you say. “What’s going on?”

San resumes his pacing. “You should be scared, I should be scared, I should’ve been this whole time; But I’ve been so stupid and now isn’t the time for me to be some sniveling boy.”

You can’t respond to that.

“I think I know when we can try to get out. I’m not going to fail you this time, (Y/n), I swear.”

“San, wait, hold on,” you start, shaking your head, “what about your laptop? The phones? Can’t you just call the cops?”

San smiles tightly, “I considered it, but there would be issues. Hongjoong has a plan, and things would not end well if law enforcement got involved and Hongjoong had more than five seconds to think before he was arrested or killed.”

“So you’re seriously proposing that we run away, leaving everyone else here… forever… including the children?”

“Would you rather be alive and here or dead and buried?” San blinks. “That’s what this comes down to for the rest of the group. We can find a way to get Mingi and Haseul, but it’s not feasible to save everyone knowing that Hongjoong has a plan for this exact situation.”

Your stomach rolls over itself as he explains this. How can you just leave? How could you leave everyone behind and forget about them? How could San even suggest something so horrible?

The thought of freedom is enticing, but the weight that would remain on your conscience… It makes you sick just thinking about it now.

Whatever. Fuck San. You’ll remedy the situation yourself once you’re out. There’s not a chance in hell you’d leave all of these innocent people to rot on this farm.

San’s apathy is so jarring. Maybe that’s what waking up after years of brainwashing does to a person.

You don’t want to judge him when he’s so clearly doing this for you. To protect you. You can hardly complain that he’s resolved in this situation.

… Yeah, no, it still rubs you the wrong way.

But you’ll shrug it off for now. “When can we go?”

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

San explains the general idea to you, which he’ll refine in the coming weeks.

With the beginning of the harvest starting, that puts the farm about one month out from the conclusion. Apparently, they don’t actually own that much acreage, just enough to surround the commune itself, so harvest doesn’t take very long. Throughout the month, there are various ceremonies that all culminate into one, final, grand ceremony at the end of the harvest. After this ceremony, there’s a party.

It was about here when you realized where this was going.

The party is huge, apparently. Like, all-out, rager huge. Everyone gets drunk (apparently this is part of the ceremony) and everything gets a bit wild and confusing. San’s proposal is that the two of you make a break for it when everyone is (a) extremely inebriated and (b) distracted by the celebrations.

It’s kind of cliche, but you have to imagine that it’ll work, especially if this party is as crazy as San explained.

If it doesn’t work… the thought puts a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re not going to start pondering what you’ll do if you get caught for a second time.

Really, this plan should work. San has access to the vehicles. With a car, you can be fifty miles away before anyone even realizes that you’re gone, so long as Hongjoong lets you out of his sight for even just a few minutes.

With all of the noise and distractions, no one will hear the car starting. No one will hear you guys peeling out, the terrible crunch of the gravel under the wheels that you had heard what felt like so long ago.

You think back to the night in the corn field. What a shitshow. You had to give it to yourself, you were very brave. And you got quite far for the amount of preparation that you had done. But that night…

Remains one that you want to forget. But you’ll never forget the fear coursing through your veins, the feeling of your heart in your chest, your ears twitching with every sound that you heard. When Seonghwa was chasing you, when Hongjoong reduced you to a puddle at his feet.

It was like being hunted for sport.

You have to hold out hope that the car will make all of the difference here, which you’re sure that it can. Where you’re going to go… you aren’t sure.

Surely, you know that you have to get law enforcement involved, but what San said is weighing on your mind… Maybe, if you fully explained the situation, you could get some sort of covert mission operating… But that would probably have its pitfalls, too. It’s hard to know what’s right, but you trust that you’ll figure it out once you’ve saved yourself.

There’s also the option that the police will entirely write you off and think you’re just some crazy lady. Especially if San…

No, wait, pause. San would tell the truth, right? Like, he would be your witness? He wouldn’t actually just let this keep happening once he’s out…

God, the fact that you even have to weigh this option is exhausting. Why can’t you just trust him? You’ve had no problem with it before, so why should it be an issue now? Has San ever done anything to betray your trust? Minus him being a high-ranking cult official, but, like, that’s just part of the deal. You have to trust him, especially now. If you can’t trust San, who can you trust?

Your mind wanders to your apartment, your old college dorm room, your childhood bedroom. How dreamy would it be to be anywhere but here? You miss your big bed and your pantry full of snacks you actually like and your bookshelves stacked with your books. You miss sleeping alone, but hearing your neighbors through your thin walls; when you didn’t have a sanctioned bed time that everyone obeyed.

On your nightstand at home, you have a framed picture of your friends. You try to picture their faces, all of them. Changbin, Mingi, Soojin, Haseul, Juyeon, and Jungeun. And, of course, your own face. When’s the last time you looked in the mirror? You think of your features, your hair, the color of your eyes and your smile.

Horrifyingly, you can only picture Hongjoong’s smile.

You stop trying to picture yourself.

Mingi comes to the forefront of your mind. Mingi. Do all roads lead back to Mingi? It feels like it. San had said that Mingi had run to you when you fainted, that he’d taken you from Hongjoong and carried you to the infirmary. You try to picture it, the feeling of Mingi’s arms wrapped around you again. Had he held you close, like a friend, or sterile, far away from his own body, the act of an EMT? Had he let your head hang upside down, over his arm, or did he support your neck like you would a baby?

You don’t know what feels right. You only know that Mingi had held you and Mingi had cared.

Maybe he threw you over his shoulder like he used to do when you refused to follow him somewhere. Probably unlikely. But you smile as you think about it, anyways, how he always used his height to his advantage and how he would sling you around like you weighed nothing.

How many times did he have to carry you to the library? How many times did he carry you out of the library? What does carrying someone mean? When is it an act of love and when is it an act of control?

Haseul had been carried. Where is she, now? In a little room? Is Wooyoung talking to her, keeping her company? Has Mingi been a good companion to her? Is she being subjugated to Hongjoong and Seonghwa, yet? Are you going to have to attend her own Choosing ceremony, soon?

Hongjoong wouldn’t trust you to just silently watch her ceremony, you know that well enough. It’ll probably just happen and you’ll be told after the fact. When its too late to warn her. The next time you see her, she’ll probably be in the infirmary, recovering from a fucking stab wound.

Your own scar tingles. Would Hongjoong just kill her? He had made it clear that he decides who lives and who dies. He could just lethally aim the knife. And wouldn’t that be the ultimate punishment? Not knowing she’s dead until being told after the fact? Not being able to see her one last time?

San wouldn’t let that happen. He would warn you, he would try to help her again, you’re sure of it.

So you just have to focus on yourself, for now. Keep your head down, wait it out, and trust San. That’s really all that you can do. You can’t help Haseul while you’re stuck here, just like you can’t help Mingi, either.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

You had half expected Hongjoong to give you a break for a few days, considering your encounter with… whatever that thing was, but that illusion is quickly destroyed when Seonghwa comes knocking on your door at the usual time the next day.

San answers, quickly lowering his voice in what sounds like an attempt to plead with Seonghwa to leave you alone for the day. You sneak up behind San, making eye contact with Seonghwa as your appearance calls his attention.

“What do you think, princess?” He sounds as pissed as he looks. You can imagine that he wants to be here just as much as you want him here.

Resting a hand on San’s shoulder, you tell him that you’re fine to go. Afterall, how else are you supposed to keep up appearances? And you need to learn more about what this month has in store for you.

San steps aside as Seonghwa offers you his hand, which you take. Strange, though, that he doesn’t take your arm as he usually would. Is this his way of…

Your last conversation echoes in your head. Seonghwa seemed genuinely concerned. And quite rattled. And he was honest with you, as much as you could expect him to be. Maybe he’s feeling bad. Or sentimental. Or protective.

… Pft, who are you kidding? He probably didn’t even think twice about taking your hand instead of your arm.

Hand-in-hand, you walk silently to Hongjoong’s apartment.

Fuck. You can only hope that he’s not there. You could probably play off your curiosity about the month as your worry about what’s going to happen to you, but something tells you that Hongjoong is going to be looking for reasons to be cruel. Or you’re going to be in for some intense attempts at gaslighting you into believing…

You have to resist a shudder at the memory. With enough effort, you probably could believe that that shit was real. Didn’t you have to beg Seonghwa to tell you that it wasn’t? You still don’t understand what the hell that even was or how it could’ve been faked, but you really can’t bring yourself to think of it.

Seonghwa drops your hand to open the door, holding it open behind him to allow you to enter as well.

Hesitantly, you glance around the apartment.

“He’s not here,” Seonghwa says. “But he wants you here when he comes back.”

The door shuts, and you sit at your usual spot on the couch. Seonghwa flops into his chair, facing you.

“When will he be back?”

He just shrugs, folding his arms across his chest. The image takes you back to a certain other night the two of you have been alone, and you have to clench your jaw to drive away the thoughts, looking anywhere else but at his body.

“I suppose you have more questions.” Seonghwa doesn't ask you this, but tells you.

Yeah, you have a lot of questions. The primary ones you either can't ask Seonghwa or you've asked him already, to no avail.

You look at your nail beds, trying to be nonchalant. “Are you still jealous of San?”

Why that's the question you decide to ask, you have no idea.

Seonghwa scoffs. “Really?” He asks. “That's where we're going?”

Shrugging, you try your best to resist looking at him. “I just thought it was strange that Hongjoong didn't want me to see him yesterday. I can't help but imagine that you must still be feeding him lies,” you say. “He also told me that it was you that had to physically hold him back when I fell.” Not to mention the other holding he did.

Though you don't look at him, you can imagine his displeasure spreading across his expression. “I don't know why you insist that there's nothing between you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, minus the fact that your misadventures could only cause harm to San.”

“Exactly,” your eyes flit up to his face, “I'd never put him in danger.”

“Your loyalty to a man you hardly know is admirable,” Seonghwa says through a sneer.

“I know San better than I know you.”

You could swear his eye twitches. “Sure you do.”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” You blink. “I have no reason to not trust San, and every reason to not trust you.”

Seonghwa shakes his head, smiling. “I think you're forgetting your situation, Princess. San is your punishment, and you're his.” He brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “I never said you had to trust me. I think you do, anyways.”

You stay silent, knowing that he's at least partially correct. You probably do trust Seonghwa, at least more than a lot of the people here.

“Otherwise, you wouldn't have asked for me to calm you yesterday.”

“I asked for San, first.”

“And what would he have told you?” Seonghwa leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Not what you wanted to hear. He wouldn't have been able to assure you of anything. I did.”

Again, you know he's right. San hadn't been able to do much to calm your nerves, despite tell you his plan for your escape.

You lock eyes with him, planning to defend San, but your gaze betrays you. Seonghwa leans back in the chair, knowing he's got you.

“Who was in the costume?” You ask instead.

Seonghwa deigns to look confused. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

The frustration of the prior day comes back at full force. Why can't just one other person acknowledge the fucking insanity of this place? Why can't Seonghwa just say what he means? Why is he so insistent on agreeing with Hongjoong, no matter the cost?

“Do you ever get tired of being Hongjoong's lapdog?”

“Lapdog?” He smiles. “Come here.”

You swallow as he gestures for you to stand in front of him, recognizing the gesture from weeks prior. “No.”

Seonghwa stands instead, stepping around the coffee table to be able to stand before you. Forced into looking up at him, you hate this upper hand he's suddenly gained through your refusal.

He bends, using a hand to grip the sofa behind your shoulder. Face to face, he mockingly pouts. “That's what you think of me?”

You keep your mouth shut, hoping your gaze is burning through him.

“You said it yourself,” he leans closer to you, “you hardly know me.”

With his face so close to your own, you hardly even feel like you can breathe, like it would be encroaching on his space. You glance between his eyes, trying your damnedest to not look anywhere else. If you looked at his lips… his pretty, plump lips…

Fortunately, or, perhaps unfortunately, the doorknob starts rattling a few feet away from the both of you, and Seonghwa quickly leans out of the compromising position. Slipping a hand in his pocket, he stares down at you once more. “This isn’t over.”

The door opens, but neither of you turn to greet who you know will be in the doorway. You’d have to imagine it’s quite a sight to see, the both of your staring daggers at each other, unwilling to be the first to look away.

Hongjoong isn’t pleased by your ignorance. He slams the door behind him as he enters his apartment, and Seonghwa finally relieves you of his look.

Your eyes only move to Hongjoong when he comes to stand next to Seonghwa, his hand resting on his bicep.

“Well, well, well,” he says, “having a lively conversation? Without me?”

Hongjoong gently turns Seonghwa so that he’s angled to sit on the couch, pushing him down until he’s sitting right next to you. Your thighs brush. Hongjoong moves back to sit on the chair Seonghwa vacated, settling himself in before speaking again.

“Have you had time to reflect on what happened yesterday?” Hongjoong inquires, tilting his head. He’s wearing his glasses, the overhead light reflecting off of them, obscuring his irises. “If I seemed frustrated with you, I must apologize. You have to understand that it was a very scary experience, even for myself. And I forgive you for the way that you reacted, as well.”

You squint at Hongjoong. As if you had anything to be sorry for. He’s the one that got himself all mad for no reason. He should be apologizing to San.

But you can only imagine how this conversation will go if you continue to argue with him about the validity of the… thing. And San requested you to keep a low profile. He probably wouldn’t want you bringing up his mistreatment. So you nod a couple times, hoping that he doesn’t want you to vocalize an apology.

“You must have been in shock,” Hongjoong continues. “Which would explain your inability to accept what had happened.”

Nodding again, you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Does he want you to start asking questions? Does he seriously, genuinely believe that you’ve lost it, now? He can’t.

So, what? He just wants you to act like you have? He must know that it would just be a ruse, so why does he want you to go along with it so badly?

Seonghwa certainly knows that you’re not fooled, and you can expect that he told Hongjoong this after you spoke to him yesterday. Who is this act for, exactly?

“As important as you are, it makes sense that you were targeted. The Guardians, in fact, are responsible for the loss of your predecessor.”

Okay, so, that’s a lie. Hongjoong told you as much himself. He’s really going to go back on his word, gaslight you into forgetting what he already said? He might be able to get you to forget what he told you about Haneul, but not so soon after you found out about her.

Haneul’s memory is alive and well in your head, despite the fact that you never met her. You owe it to her to remember the facts of her life, and her death, as best as you can. It awakens a tinge of anger in you to even hear Hongjoong so blatantly disregard her truth. He told you, to your face, that he liked you more than her. So he got rid of her. Not these “guardians” or whatever the fuck he’s trying to blame for her death.

“The Guardians,” you say, plainly. “Are… what, exactly?”

Hongjoong leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. “Well, there’s quite an extensive explanation in The Answer, but I suppose it could be beneficial to hear about them from me.

“The Guardians, simply put, are our antagonists. They protect the Sign, keeping it in the hands of those that oppose us. When we’re close to reaching the Sign, or when the barrier is thinner than normal, such as during a ceremony, they can appear. They’re rather frightening, and they can kill or bring Followers back to their dimension.”

… You blink at Hongjoong, remembering to nod periodically through his explanation. What are you supposed to say to that?

“So, yesterday, then, it was trying to… kill me?” You ask, sensing that Hongjoong wants something to bounce off of.

He tsks. “I don’t suspect kill, but rather kidnap. If they know that you’ve been Chosen, they’ll continue to target you whenever the barrier is thin. Surely they know that we would go to great lengths to recover you if they were able to steal you away.”

Hongjoong speaks with such a conviction that you can see how people are led to believe in him. If you had a weaker mindset, his crock of shit might just make sense. Or be just scary enough to make you want to believe that he could protect you.

“But you scared it away? Yesterday?”

Hongjoong nods gravely, closing his eyes. “They fear my presence, thankfully. Very rarely can they stand to be in the same room as me.”

You smile, hopefully not sarcastically. “That’s very lucky for me, then.”

“It is,” Seonghwa cuts in, surprisingly. “Hongjoong will always be with you, so you’ll always be safe.” Even more surprising than his words, Seonghwa slides his hand into resting on your mid-thigh, assuringly squeezing you. You turn toward him with wide eyes, about to question what the hell he thinks he’s doing, when his expression makes it very clear to you that you should drop the subject.

Bizarre. Why would Seonghwa be warning you to stop talking about what Hongjoong so clearly wants you to speak about?

So you turn back toward Hongjoong, who’s agreeing with what Seonghwa said, seemingly oblivious to his little boyfriend’s hand on your thigh. “Is there any way to protect myself, if I am alone?” You ask instead of heeding Seonghwa’s warning.

He squeezes your thigh harder, but you ignore it. What the hell is he trying to steer you away from? If he doesn’t want you to talk about it, surely it’s something that you’re going to want to know, right? Seonghwa can’t be looking out for you, not when Hongjoong is in the room. He has his priorities in order, and Hongjoong far outweighs yourself.

“Great question,” Hongjoong smiles approvingly. “So long as you have a Sign of the Answer on your person, you can fend them off yourself. They revere the Sign, they won’t harm someone under its protection.”

If that’s the case… you would’ve been fine, yesterday, then. As always, you had been wearing a Sign pinned to your shirt, somewhere. Though Hongjoong would probably try to argue with you that you must have been missing it, otherwise the Guardian wouldn’t have been able to attack.

But then that also raises the question. Is kidnapping someone the same as harming them? Maybe it wouldn’t have killed you, but could it still have taken you? Assuming that Hongjoong isn’t just some very creative psycho, that is. Purely for thought exercise, you have to wonder what the Sign could really protect someone from. Was yesterday an attack? Or merely an appearance?

You sense that Seonghwa is trying to warn you away from the areas that Hongjoong doesn’t have fleshed out. For all you know, yesterday is the first time that a Guardian has ever appeared in the flesh. Hongjoong might not have prepared for every possible question that you could ask.

The questions that you’re most curious about are things that you can’t ask him. Who did he have dressed up? How did they make that stature, that outfit, that… aura? Where was the face? Were you drugged? Was everyone drugged? Did everyone see the same thing that you did, or is everyone collectively lying to you to help their leader? Seriously, where the fuck was that thing’s face? How did they do that? If it wasn’t for that gaping maw of nothingness, you’d have a much easier time writing the entire experience off as the complete joke that you logically know it must have been. You push the thought away for now.

“I’ll be sure to always wear my pins, then.” You motion to where you have one pinned to your collar. “I have questions about the ceremonies in general, though, Hongjoong. Can I ask a few things?”

He motions for you to proceed, and Seonghwa’s hand doesn’t tighten its hold on you, so you do. “Will there be more sacrifices?”

Hongjoong nods. “There’s a sacrifice for each ceremony.”

“What is the sacrifice for? To what deity?”

A hint of exasperation crosses his face as Seonghwa slides his hand a little higher. “I’ve explained this. Sacrifices are sent to different universes as aid for our clones. There’s no God in particular the sacrifice is for, except for me.”

“So they can even use animals, in the other universes? The situation is so dire?”

Seonghwa pinches you instead of squeezing. Hongjoong’s exasperation melts into wry acceptance. “Yes, it is. Have you ever gone months without eating meat?”

… Yeah, probably. But you’re not going to press him harder on the subject. “I was just curious, I didn’t mean to question you. How many more ceremonies will there be this month?”

Seonghwa’s hand doesn’t move, and it’s right about now that you’re starting to feel a little bit insane because of it. Why would he put his hand on your thigh, of all places? Why does it keep migrating upward? Why don’t you just say something to stop him? Or use your own hand to move his away? Why is the warmth of his palm seeping through your jeans so quickly? Why hasn’t Hongjoong said something yet?

“There will be one ceremony each weekend.” He says, calmer, now. “But you won’t have to participate in all of them. The most important ceremonies, the first and the last, are different and thus require the Bearer’s presence.”

Well, that takes a bit of the pressure off, at least. Knowing that you don’t have to personally participate in every ceremony, though, no doubt, you’ll have to be present at each of them, makes you feel just a tad bit better. You have to imagine that Haseul’s Choosing ceremony will be soon…

“Hongjoong, did I do good yesterday?” You ask, trying to feign your most innocent look. “Can I see Haseul, soon?”

He gives you a small smile, but his answer doesn’t match it at all. “No. You made me quite mad, yesterday.”

The response is actually slightly shocking. You knew you had made him upset, but for him to vocalize it to you? To deny you seeing Haseul because of some bullshit that he orchestrated himself?

“But—”

“No buts about it,” Hongjoong says. “You’ll be able to see Haseul once you’re behaving on a consistent basis.”

“Won’t she have a Choosing ceremony?” You blurt, hoping that you weren’t the one to put the idea in his head. Maybe he had been planning on just keeping her locked up and not actually indoctrinating her. Had you even considered that?

Hongjoong sighs. “I haven’t decided. Is she worthy of one?”

What the hell does he mean ‘worthy?’ He’s seriously not going to jump at the chance to bring her in? If he wanted to, he could just kill her then and there; wouldn’t that be his dream? To end her life in front of you? Wouldn’t that just tickle his fancy? You don’t understand.

Unless he’s taking a certain pity on her, which you highly doubt.

He must see your confusion painted plainly on your face, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand. “It’s no matter. You’ll see her when you deserve to. Seonghwa,” —he abruptly changes the topic and his tone— “where exactly is your hand going?”

Seonghwa’s hand flies off of you, landing promptly back into his own lap.

“That’s what I thought.” Hongjoong tuts. “Do we need to discuss the lines that must not be crossed, again?”

You shake your head. You do not need the sex talk again from Hongjoong. God. And it's not like you were feeling him up.

“Seonghwa, you look particularly guilty. Do you need to tell me something?”

You suspect that, if Seonghwa looks or feels guilty of something, it's not the hand on your thigh. It's the warning you to stray away from topics that could upset Hongjoong.

But, glancing over at him, you’re surprised to see how red his face has gotten. Do you really get him going so easily? You could almost laugh, if not for the circumstances. Surely he's not so embarrassed just to have been seen with a hand on your leg. Its not like Hongjoong walked in on his hand down your pants or anything. And hadn’t he been all up in your face before Hongjoong arrived? Where’d that confident asshole go?

Hongjoong’s presence makes all the difference, you suppose. Hopefully he's able to play off this little episode as embarrassment about touching you. If Hongjoong realizes what he was doing, he'd probably get in trouble.

Which is still perplexing. Why had Seonghwa done that? Since when does he want to protect you? The way he's been acting, yesterday and today, just doesn't… align with the picture you have in your head.

Seonghwa looks literally anywhere else than at you or Hongjoong, shaking his head as well.

Slowly, he uses his hands to slide himself farther down the couch from you. Hongjoong chuckles from your opposite side, bringing you back into the reality that you temporarily abandoned.

“That’s pathetic, Seonghwa, really.”

Seonghwa simply looks back toward the coffee table, his face pink. Hongjoong is so harsh.

“Anyways,” Hongjoong calls your attention back towards him, “anything you want to tell me, (Y/n)? How’s San?”

This obsession with your relationship with San is infinitely annoying. What makes them think that you’re ever going to admit to what they suspect of you?

“San is perfectly fine.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrow twitches. “Oh? I only ask because he was rather… upset, yesterday, is all.”

“Wasn’t everyone a little upset?”

“Not so personally.”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know how many different ways I can tell you that you made us live together, so it’s only natural that we care about each other.”

“Well,” is Hongjoong’s entire response.

The room falls into a rather uncomfortable silence.

You look back at Seonghwa, but he’s just looking at his hands, folded in his lap, now.

Hongjoong looks at his nail beds.

“Are we done, then?” You ask.

“You don’t have any more questions?” Hongjoong responds with a question, not looking up at you.

You rack your mind for anything else. Sure, there are plenty of questions, just not ones that he would be happy to answer.

“I guess not.”

Hongjoong looks up, flicking his eyes between you and Seonghwa. “Shall I escort you back to your apartment?”

You look back at Seonghwa, who’s now looking between you and Hongjoong.

“I don’t have a preference,” you say, even though you definitely do.

“I can take her,” Seonghwa springs up, offering you his hand.

Taking it, you also stand. “I actually have one more question, Hongjoong.”

He has to look up at you for once. He simply waits for your question while you gaze down at him.

“Is the sacrifice always an animal?”

He smiles. “More or less.”

Great. Wonderful. Perfect. You absolutely hate that response. More or less? Thats the most non-answer answer that he could've given you. And it definitely means that its not always an animal. Which makes you wonder when… and who…

Stunned into silence, you say nothing. Neither does Seonghwa.

“Hurry back.” Hongjoong requests, dismissing the two of you without another word.

Once you’re outside of Hongjoong’s apartment, you debate teasing Seonghwa, but decide against it. Though it would be quite fun, the poor guy is probably going to get it from Hongjoong already, no need to add to his torment. Plus, he was just trying to help you.

He walks you in silence, again, hand-in-hand, back to your apartment.

No sooner than you’re saying goodbye and shutting the door behind you does San appear in the entryway, grabbing for you.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?” He frantically asks, looking you up and down and all around, his hands flying around your limbs to check for injuries.

Stunned, you stay still. “I’m fine?”

San sighs in relief, guiding you back toward the couch, sitting and pulling you onto his lap. “I was so worried they’d somehow found out. That you’d be hurt.”

You shuffle around so that your back can rest against the armrest of the sofa, your legs still resting over his.

“They absolutely cannot find out, no matter what,” San says. “Can you tell me what you talked about?”

So you explain the conversations for him, using a free hand to card through his hair as you do. He seems to relax after you’ve elaborated, though you leave out the part about Seonghwa and his hand.

Part of you wonders if you should feel guilty about messing with Seonghwa. Not for his sake, but for San’s. What even is going on between the two of you? You probably shouldn’t be flirting with the enemy anyways, but San probably wouldn’t be overjoyed to hear about the things that have happened between yourself and Seonghwa. The fact that you leave it out when recounting the meeting must prove that you know that it’s wrong.

“Come here,” you open your arms to him.

He slips out from under you, realigning himself so that he can rest his head on your chest. “We’ll get out of here, together.” He wraps his arms around your waist.

You do the same, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. There’s nothing you can do but agree with him. The two of you will escape together, and soon. After that, you can forget all about this place.

… Yeah, in your dreams. The real horror might start after you’re gone. You have to believe that San is telling the truth about Hongjoong. Revealing the cult to the authorities will only end in horror if you’re not careful.

And you find it hard to believe that you’ll be okay once you’re gone. You’ve considered it before, the way that this sort of trauma affects someone. How long will you have to recover? Will you be able to go back to your old life?

Will San be part of it?

You squeeze him tighter and he reciprocates.

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#ateez angst #ateez series #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #park seonghwa x reader #jeong yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #song mingi x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader #the answer #update

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berryunho · 7 months

Text

THE ANSWER: XXVI

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

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chapter word count: 10,791

“What the hell did you say to Hongjoong?”

Seonghwa is quick to start grilling you as soon as San leaves the two of you alone, glaring at you across from the dinner table. It takes you a few seconds to even remember what he could be referring to, that conversation with Hongjoong taking the back seat in your mind to everything else that had happened today.

You set your spoon down, resting your elbows on the table, “I could be asking you the same question.”

Seonghwa scoffs, mirroring your actions. He leans over the table, though, getting closer to you, “Well I asked first.”

Frowning, you look him up and down, trying to make him squirm a little bit. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t seem to find you very intimidating. In fact, he only leans closer to you, his face basically taking up your entire field of view. “What did Hongjoong say that I said?”

Seonghwa’s eyes flit to your lips, but you pretend like you don’t notice. “He said that you told him we had sex. Among other things.”

“I said no such thing,” you glare back at him, “I only heavily implied it.”

“Why?” Seonghwa wets his lips, “do you want to get me in trouble, Princess?”

You don’t want to be the one to back down from this confrontation, but being this close to Seonghwa without him touching you might actually make you insane. His stupid fucking hot ass fucking face. It’s too distracting.

But… you’re more stubborn than you are uncomfortable. “Only if you want to get me in trouble.” He smiles a bit at that, but you continue, “if you must know, though, I had to use you as a bit of a scapegoat. I figured you wouldn’t mind, considering the lies you’re telling him about San and me.”

“Lies?” Seonghwa says sarcastically, “what ever would I lie about?” The question is clearly rhetorical.

But you answer it anyway. “You told him that San and I are together.”

Seonghwa’s smile grows, “and is that a lie? Aren’t you?”

“Frankly, it’s not Hongjoong’s business, and it’s not yours, either.”

He brings a hand up to rest under his chin, shrugging his free shoulder. “Difference of opinion. Why should I lie to Hongjoong for you?”

“Well, San and I aren’t together,” you shrug as well, hoping he’s not picking up on the fact that you’re lying through your teeth. It’s actually a bit… uncomfortable to lie about it like this. You don’t want to have to deny… whatever it is that you have going on with San, but that’s just how it is. You suck it up and hope that Seonghwa can’t see your internal battle as you spit the words out.

Seonghwa bites his lip, “is that so? So he wouldn’t mind if I…”

You do lean back, then, smacking his elbow out from under him so that his head falls, hopefully shocking him back into reality. “You wish, pervert.”

He catches his head before he actually hits it on the table, gaping at you, his eyes wide as if he can’t believe that you really just did that. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised that you did it, too. Seonghwa is so fucking tempting. But you’re stronger than that…

“Plus, what would he think,” you tip your head in Hongjoong’s direction, not surprised to see him already staring directly at the two of you. He had been congregating with some of the Followers, but his attention is now clearly occupied, a sneer appearing on his face when he catches you looking. “He already thinks we had sex, no?”

Seonghwa looks back over his shoulder to glance at Hongjoong, quickly spinning back to face you when he sees the look on his leader’s face. “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. I had the time of my life trying to explain that I had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.”

You shrug, “I needed some way to get his mind off of the fact that someone told me about Haneul. It worked.”

His eyes really go wide, then, “Haneul? Who the fuck told you about Haneul?”

“You did.” You smile, finally picking your spoon back up to eat some more of your soup. This is a damn good soup, you have to remember to compliment Wooyoung on it… if you guys are on speaking terms. You’re not sure about that.

Seonghwa groans, also resuming eating his dinner. “I’m going to get my ass handed to me, Princess. Why wouldn’t you just tell him the truth?” He pauses, dropping his spoon back into his soup, “ wait, let me guess. San told you?”

You shake your head, taking another bite, ignoring his eyes.

“Who else have you been alone with?”

You shrug again, just to piss him off.

It doesn’t work. “When San attempted to help Haseul with the escapade last night, did he have someone watch you?” Seonghwa smiles in disbelief. “He really covered his bases. Who was it?” He searches your face as if the answer will be plastered on it.

It might be, frankly. “It had to have been Wooyoung. Am I right, Princess? Wooyoung watched you? And told you? How on earth did you get that out of him?”

Staying silent, you opt to keep eating your soup. Wooyoung is the obvious choice, looking at the people that San is close enough to trust with such a secret, so it makes sense that Seonghwa would be able to guess him so easily. But you’re not about to tell Seonghwa that he’s right, so you do your best to keep your face plain.

“Oh, this is quite fun information. What else did he tell you? Did you see his back?”

That must be what Wooyoung had been referring to, where his scars are. But, again, you’re not going to ask questions or make Seonghwa believe that he’s right. The last thing that you want to do is throw Wooyoung under the bus for spilling cult secrets that he clearly shouldn’t have.

Seonghwa leans closer again, whispering, “if I promise to not tell Hongjoong, will you tell me? I’m very curious.”

You also lean in closer, putting your spoon down once more, “absolutely not. But will you tell me about Haneul?”

He rolls his eyes, leaning back into his original position. “No, I won’t. She’s quite a sore subject around here.”

… Yeah, you could’ve guessed that. “Can you at least tell me about Jongho and her?”

“No?” Seonghwa looks at you like you’ve really lost your mind, “that’s not your business, Princess.”

“Oh, so their relationship isn’t my business, but my relationship with San is yours?”

“So you admit to having a relationship with San, then?” Seonghwa smirks, pleased to have finally gotten something out of you.

You sigh, “if you’re jealous, you can just say so.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, “why on earth would I be jealous of Choi San? If I wanted you so badly, you would be with me.”

You try to make yourself look disgusted at the mere prospect, “that’s bold, even for you.” You say this like the two of you had never been intimate.

Seonghwa shrugs, looking you up and down before leaning closer once more. “If anything, I’m jealous of his ability to disregard Hongjoong’s orders.” The meaning of this admission isn’t lost on you.

You can’t resist returning the look, letting your eyes linger on the way the sleeves of his shirt strain around his biceps. Personally, you don’t give a damn about Hongjoong’s “orders,” but you’re not about to let Seonghwa win this by giving into him. And you have San to worry about. You lean in closer as well, smiling at Seonghwa.

“You’re a pervert,” you whisper, keeping the smile plastered on your face.

Seonghwa smiles, too, despite scoffing at your comment, “that’s really cute, coming from you, Princess.”

“What is?” San’s voice appears from your side, making the both of you jump backward from each other.

Seonghwa keeps the nasty smile on his face, looking up at San, “perfect timing, San. If you’d left her alone with me any longer…”

San gives you a puzzled look, sliding onto the seat next to you. He doesn’t get himself a meal, which is… a little strange, but you ignore it, going back to eating your own.

He ignores Seonghwa’s comment easily. “I couldn’t miss the announcement, could I?” San asks Seonghwa, smiling tightly across the table.

“Announcement?” You ask, looking between the two of them.

Seonghwa holds a hand up before San can start explaining. “You’ll see, Princess.” He smiles at you like you’re not going to like this announcement at all. “But, San, pray tell, where did you just run off to?”

San gives you a sideways glance, and you can only imagine that he probably was doing something that you wouldn’t exactly care for. “I had a conversation that needed to be held, privately.”

Seonghwa raises his eyebrows, “is that so? What ever about? Whomever with?” He asks these questions as if he knows perfectly well their answers, but wants to hear San admit it anyhow. “Why couldn’t your dear (Y/n) be in attendance?”

You honestly aren’t really sure what San means, but the only explanation that you can think is… he apologized to Mingi? That would honestly make you rather happy, though, so you’re not sure why he wouldn’t want to say it in front of you. Maybe Seonghwa truly doesn’t know, and he wants to keep it that way? You’re honestly not too bothered by the fact that he doesn’t want to say.

Before San can respond, the cafeteria falls completely silent.

You twist in your seat to face the front of the room, not at all surprised to see Hongjoong standing there, his hands folded behind his back. He still has that weird outfit on, the ties of the robe dangling down, brushing against his knees with each small movement he makes.

He looks to you, then, giving you a sideways smile before turning back to address the room.

“It is with great joy that I make this announcement tonight.” The cafeteria is just as silent as the chapel. You look around, not at all surprised to see that not a single pair of eyes aren’t on Hongjoong. “Finally, we are prepared to start our harvest season.”

A gentle applause starts, much like the kind you would expect at some sort of… gala, or something. Hongjoong holds a hand up and it immediately halts, everyone in the room once again waiting with baited breath. “Of course, this indicates the start of prosperous times for our group,” he gives you another glance, “but it also invites upon us some of the most troublesome ceremonies and events, as well as opening the door to… unwelcome possibilities.”

… Yeah, whatever the hell that means.

“As harvest will commence in the morning, our first event will happen during our morning gathering. I expect everyone to be in attendance, including children and those otherwise excused. It’s important that we are united as a group, as you all very well know.”

Everyone? Does that include Haseul? Surely it does, even if she hasn’t had a Choosing Ceremony. You want to believe that you’ll get to see your friend, but… You’re not sure. Hongjoong probably will keep her from you as long as he can; keep you on his little leash until he’s decided that you’re obedient enough again.

He waits, holding the attention of the room for a second longer, a tense look on his face. “You all must know that I don’t say these things to scare you. But the harvest season is trying for the Sign, and our connection is in peril every second that…” Hongjoong clears his throat around the words. “That we leave it unguarded. Those participating in the morning ceremony will be notified tonight.”

With that, he turns away from the center of the cafeteria, eyes locking onto your table. Conversation picks back up as he strides toward the three of you, a smile replacing the tenseness.

“Let me guess,” you say to neither Seonghwa nor San in particular, “I’m about to be notified of something?”

Seonghwa smirks, “you can be so bright sometimes.”

“(Y/n)!” Hongjoong calls your name when he’s a few feet away, closing the distance enough to rest a hand on your shoulder before asking, “Are you excited for your first harvest?”

You blink up at him, amazed that he still even bothers, “you just made it sound like something to be weary of, rather than excited for.”

He shrugs, squeezing your shoulder once before releasing you to sit next to Seonghwa. “We haven’t covered the Guardians yet.”

“The what now?”

Hongjoong waves his hand in the air to dismiss your question, “you’ll learn in due time.”

For a second, you think that Seonghwa even rolls his eyes, but that would be truly unfathomable. You’re happy enough to write off whatever the fuck the ‘Guardians’ are. The last thing you want right now is another lesson in cult lore.

“Anyhow,” he clasps his hands, resting them on the table. “You’ll be participating in the ceremony tomorrow. Its a fun one, too.”

You look at San, though he’s looking anywhere but at you. Turning back to Hongjoong, you ask, “do I get to know what this ceremony entails ahead of time, or are you going to surprise stab me again?” You’re honestly surprised by how bold you feel, given everything that’s happened. Maybe seeing him cry reduces him a little bit… no, that’s not it. Whatever it was, you’re just not feeling particularly intimidated by Hongjoong at the moment, surprisingly.

Hongjoong waves a hand in the air, “there’s no need to be so dramatic, (Y/n).”

Honestly, you still think it was a fair question. But you feel lucky that he’s clearly in the bantering mood as well.

“You’ve already been Chosen; you won’t have to prove yourself again,” San offers, albeit rather quietly and more so to himself than to you.

“I feel that its best that you’re prepared for the ceremony,” Hongjoong ignores San’s comment, “Seonghwa can cover it with you.”

Seonghwa jerks his head toward his leader. “I can? I thought I wa—”

Hongjoong smiles, stopping Seonghwa in his tracks. “You’ll do as I say.”

He only nods in response, turning away from Hongjoong. To your relief, he doesn’t lay a glare on you once more, returning to his meal instead.

“San, let’s talk privately for a moment,” Hongjoong rises, beckoning San to follow him. San furrows his brows, but stands anyway, following Hongjoong until they’re out of earshot from your table.

You turn your attention back to Seonghwa. “Let me hear it.”

He drops his spoon again, looking annoyed at the prospect of having to spend anymore time with you. “I need a copy of The Answer to properly explain it.”

“You’re telling me you don’t keep one on yourself at all times?”

Seonghwa blinks at you. Leaning back, he unbuttons his jacket, reaching a hand to the inside pocket. Low and behold, he pulls a copy of The Answer from the interior pocket, gently placing it onto the table between you two.

You had been half joking.

He buttons his jacket again, sliding his tray away from himself. Wordlessly, he picks up the book, flipping to the back pages before landing on whatever page he was searching for. He turns his wrist, showing you the page.

Highlighted in yellow and underlined maybe five times is the title:

HARVEST PRACTICES

The chapter that follows is broken into a few different sections, from what you can see on the pages in view. The first subtitle reads:

INVOCATION AND PROTECTION

“Your hand is shaking too much for me to read that,” you complain, grabbing the book from Seonghwa’s hands. You slide your own tray away, setting the book on the table to read.

The text continues.

Perhaps one of the most strenuous times a year comes during harvest season. Though the crop can be bountiful and the blessings many, there are also dangers that follow. This implicates the necessity to instate a protective guard around our group; a ward to protect ourselves so as to protect our Clones.

On the first day of the harvest, the following ceremony must be conducted to insure safety throughout the season. The steps are outlined here; however HONGJOONG may adapt these provisions as he sees fit per the requirements of the year.

Typical ceremony regalia should be worn by all Followers. Ten Followers are chosen at random to participate in the ceremony.

Participation is mandatory once selected; certain Followers may be required to participate every year due to their given role in Universe One.

At 6 A.M. The ceremony begins. The ten Followers link hands in a circle.

They recite the following incantation, taking three steps to the left following each break.

On this day we make our vow.

The Answer is near; we shall not wonder or fear.

I myself am mighty and true. My blood will protect and provide anew

The barrier is weak.

United, we cast away the evil that would do us harm. We uninvite the spirits that dance between this Universe and the next.

Following the incantation, each member shall raise their hands. The ceremonial blade is presented, and each Follower shall gently open their left palm, letting the blood drop into the center of the circle while reciting:

I offer this vessel of myself for the betterment of the community. My blood banishes the evil from them, and calls it toward me. I swear this today and everyday.

At the completion of each vow, the final words will be said:

We call upon you to stay away.

The Sacrifice will then be presented. It is to be left on the altar for one day.

This is the conclusion of the ceremony.

This ceremony is not infallible. Should trouble arise before, during, or after, HONGJOONG and designated Followers will resolve the issue.

You stop reading, looking up at Seonghwa. “Sacrifice?”

He nods.

“That’s, like, pretty cliche,” you frown, “and that rhyme sucks.”

“Be more respectful.” Seonghwa mirrors your frown, “Hongjoong isn’t a poet, he’s a prophet.”

“Really? I thought he was God?”

Seonghwa only gives you a more exasperated look, rolling his eyes.

You scan over the ceremony again, trying to make sure you’re getting the details correct. “What’s this about ‘calling the evil towards me?’ And the blood? Is that really necessary?”

He glances over your shoulder, a relieved expression gracing his features, “San, you have a knack for perfect timing today.”

You turn to look back and, sure enough, San is approaching your table again.

San looks between you, Seonghwa, and the copy of The Answer in your hands, putting the pieces together. “Questions?”

“A few,” you mutter, suddenly not very interested. You don’t mind pestering Seonghwa for answers to all of your questions, but you aren’t keen on asking San the same way. “But it can wait. What did Hongjoong want?”

San takes his place next to you again, shrugging as he does so. “He was just letting me know the plan for tomorrow.”

Seonghwa reaches for his book, plucking it out of your hands before you can respond to San. “I trust you won’t be needing my copy, anymore.”

Resisting the urge to mock him, you respond to San instead. “Such as…?”

“When to be there, how to help you dress, so on.”

So on… Why does it feel like there’s a lot more emphasis on the ending of that list? They had been gone for a good five minutes, there had to be more than that, surely. Why wouldn’t San tell you the whole truth? What good would that do for him?

You stay quiet, trying to ignore your suspicions. If you can’t trust San, who can you trust?

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

It turns out that you have to wake up significantly more early than usual.

San shakes you awake at four, ignoring your pleas for five more minutes. “I waited as long as I could, (Y/n).”

You grumble and moan, but find it in yourself to get out of bed. For Haseul. That’s what you tell yourself. All of this is for Haseul. Your cooperation is for her. Had she not been here, you’d be kicking and screaming the whole way.

But, unfortunately, Hongjoong figured out how to play you like a damn fiddle. So here you are, tugging on the same black dress pants that you had put on… what, three weeks ago? A month ago? Longer? You have no idea.

You manage to button your shirt correctly this time, though your face burns at the memory of Seonghwa having to help you dress. What had happened to you? You never would have thought that the day would come where you would voluntarily wear this… cult regalia.

San watches, already fully dressed by the time that he woke you up. You have to admit that he looks handsome in all black, the clothes clearly tailored to fit him. Two or three silver necklaces hang down his chest, matching rings gracing his fingers. He hasn’t put his mask on, yet, or his hat, leaving his features exposed in the security of your apartment.

“Let me help,” he offers, squatting to his knees to help you tie your boots as you pull them on. He ties your right shoe as you tie your left, lacing them with the deftness of well-trained hands.

Of course, he finishes before you do. He takes over tying your left shoe, smiling up at you as you yield the laces to him. “Thank you.”

He only pats your knee, standing back up and offering his hand to you. You take it and rise as well, glancing at the clock. 4:29.

The ceremony starts at 6. You’re not really sure why you have to be in positions so early, but… whatever. You’re not going to fight it. You can do this, you’re sure of it. For Haseul, you’ll do it.

San opens the wardrobe, grabbing your two hats off of the top shelf. Had you ever noticed them sitting there? You’re not sure. Maybe someone had brought them in.

He hands you yours, swirling his around on his finger instead of putting it on. “How are you feeling?”

You put the hat on. “Fine.”

“You sure?” He sounds genuine enough, and you don’t doubt that he’s at least a little worried for you. And, obviously, given the circumstances with Haseul…

“I just hope I don’t fuck up.”

San frowns, reaching for your hand. You let him take it.

“Everything will be fine,” he promises, rubbing your hand with his. “It’ll be over before you know it!”

Forcing a smile, you nod. He’s probably right. If you just grit your teeth and bare it, the whole thing will be over as quickly as you can say the stupid little incantation. There’s no reason to be afraid or worried.

… That’s what you really want to believe. But you can’t bring yourself to think that it will actually be that easy. Something is going to happen. Something bad. You’re sure of it, now, in this moment. You’re more sure of it than anything else.

Hongjoong won’t just let this happen. He won’t just let this pan out easily. He has something planned, and you’re sure that it’s something terrible…

The sacrifice mentioned in the steps… you had never had the chance to ask about it. Something is going to happen then, you’re sure. At the moment of the sacrifice or the moment that it’s presented, it’s going to be something beyond even your imagination.

Hongjoong’s insanity knows no bounds, and that is something that you know for a positive fact. He can’t just have something go well or normally when you’re involved. He will have to stick his fingers in the pie, have to meddle to make something happen.

Your stomach flips as you consider the possibilities. You suddenly feel woozy.

“Hey,” San calls your attention back to the moment at hand, grabbing your other arm with his free hand. “Are you alright?”

You blink at him, “Just a little lightheaded is all.”

“Do you want something to eat?” He starts to pull you toward the kitchenette, but the thought of eating only makes your stomach feel heavier.

Planting your feet, you shake your head. “No, no, I’m fine. I just want to get this over with.”

You’re not lying. If something is going to happen (when something is going to happen), you would rather just have it be done and have it be over.

Whatever it is, you’re sure that you can survive it. You’ve made it this far without losing your wits or dying, you’re sure that you can make it through a ten minute ordeal. Even if it is particularly nasty or horrible.

Fuck, you just hope the sacrifice isn’t a person. You’re, like, sixty percent sure that it won’t be, but… that forty percent is still a question mark. At least you know it won’t be you.

That’s probably not the right mindset. But, hey, that’s life, isn’t it?

San looks between you and the clock, looking disappointed. “I guess we don’t really have time, anyhow. I’m sorry.” He apologizes, dropping his hands from you.

You brush off the apology, following him as he leaves the room and approaches your door.

“You’re sure that you’re okay?” San asks again, pausing by your front door. “I can make up some excuse if I have to.”

You don’t have to force a smile, this time. “I’m going to be fine as soon as this is over.”

He nods in acceptance, opening the door and holding it open for you.

The two of you head to the chapel in silence, other Followers wearing their all-black regalia crowding the hallways and stairwells. A few people smile and wave at you, though you can’t really say that you recognize them.

As you squeeze through the halls, you wonder where Haseul is being kept. In one of the single rooms, you’re sure, but which one…

You almost have the urge to start knocking on every door on the women’s floor, jangle each doorknob and greet each person until you find her…

But that would be silly, and you know that. You’d only be punished if you went looking for her. Worse, she would probably be punished for your stupidity, too.

That’s not going to happen.

So you fight the feeling, just as you fought your panic. Your stomach is still a wreck as you follow San. You don’t hold his hand, not in public, but you wish that you could grab him for some semblance of comfort.

He would take your hand if you tried, you realize. Clearly, he doesn’t have much of an issue speaking about your relationship, at least with Mingi.

The memory of their argument brings a sour expression to your face. You’re still not very pleased with how San had acted, or with how Mingi had, either. Even after the apology…

And San never confirmed that he apologized to Mingi. Well, you had never asked him.

But whatever. That has to be a problem for another day, for another you. Or at least for the you of three hours from now. You can’t go into this being pissed at basically the only two people that you like here.

That doesn’t give much credit to Nayeon or Yunho or Wooyoung or Yeosang, you realize, but whatever. You don’t need to be debating who your friends are and who your friends aren’t.

After what happened with Wooyoung, anyways, would you really consider him a friend? Had you really processed any of what he had told you? What the fuck.

Your head swims with the reality of everything that has been happening to you in the past couple days. You’ve experienced enough goddamn trauma to let Dr. Phil run another 12 seasons on you alone. Fucking hell. Literally what the fuck.

You finally reach the big doors, relishing the feeling of stepping into the cool outside air. The hallways had been stuffy with the weight of all of the Followers, and the sudden breeze is refreshing; especially given your fucking outfit.

The sun hasn’t even poked above the horizon, yet. You wouldn’t even call it dawn. But you don’t have to squint to make out the chapel in this distance.

The sea of Followers in front of you lead the way to the holy place, a swarm of black across the farm.

You wonder how many of them there really are. If Hongjoong said that everyone had to attend this ceremony… fuck. There’s a lot of people. Just the people you can see outside seem to outnumber what you would have originally thought.

How in the world had Hongjoong recruited so many people?

How many of these people actually believed every word that he said? You’d have to assume most of them. What would they do to make him happy? To keep him happy?

The thought sends an unwelcome shiver down your spine, only making your stomach worse.

The walk isn’t long, and you soon find yourself passing the doors that are being held open by the swarm of people crowding through them.

It’s fuller than you’ve ever seen it, the chapel. Some people are already seated in the pews, chatting with their peers. The majority of the Followers, however, are still standing, mingling in the aisle.

You follow San’s lead, presuming that he’ll take you wherever you need to be. He goes about halfway to the front of the chapel, stopping in a less-populated area of the aisle in what you assume is an attempt to make you calmer. You’re not sure that it helps, but you appreciate the gesture, anyhow.

You wonder who the other Followers that were chosen for the ceremony are. Will anyone that you know be up there to comfort you? It probably wouldn’t make a difference, but at least one familiar face would be welcome.

As you glance around the room, you find your eyes tugging toward the Sign of the Answer, the huge one on the wall. Hongjoong’s chair is gone in preparation for the ceremony, so you’re able to see it in all of its glory. Per usual, the chapel is lit by candles, and the light glints off of the Sign exactly how you remember it looking the night that you had been Chosen. The memory makes you more nervous.

San puts a hand on your arm, calling your attention back to him. You glance at his face first, only to see him looking ahead as someone approaches. For a split second, you’re worried that its going to be Mingi.

But it’s only Wooyoung, you realize.

He stops in front of you, two glasses in his hands. “Hello,” he greets you, looking between the two of you.

San returns the hello, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Something about the sight of him disturbs you. And the glasses in his hands.

He gets straight to business.

“Drink this,” Wooyoung holds out a champagne glass filled with something that is decidedly not champagne. Instead of sparkling, yellow liquid, this is a flat, blood red.

You hesitantly take the stem, tilting the glass to watch the liquid move. Thankfully, it doesn’t actually seem to be blood. You take a sniff, not all that surprised to smell the familiar red wine scent.

“It’s just wine. For the nerves.”

Shrugging, you take a sip. He’s not lying, but… “Last time you fed me in this room you also drugged me.”

Wooyoung mirrors your shrug. “Don’t drink it then.”

You glance at San, who also shrugs.

“Well fuck it, then.” In an action reminiscent of your college days, you down the glass; ignoring the bitterness as best you can.

Wooyoung takes the glass back from you. “Good luck, then.”

He excuses himself, wandering back into the crowd with the other glass. You assume that he’s handing them out to all of the participating Followers, but you opt to stop watching him to look back at San.

“Do you think that was drugged?” You ask San, rubbing your palms on your jacket.

His eyes go wide, “I wouldn’t have let you drink it if I thought it was!”

“I’m not sure I trust Hongjoong that much.”

“I do.” San puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently. His words don’t offer you any comfort, but the hand is pleasant enough.

Well, you’ll know soon enough, anyhow. Maybe this would all go a lot more smoothly if you were drugged, somehow. Your heart feels like a damn jackhammer in your chest.

You try to look around, wanting to spot any familiar face in the crowd for any sense of comfort. It’s just so damn hard with everyone dressed like the fucking grim reaper. You think that you spot Nayeon, briefly, her long brown hair contrasting beautifully to the fitted black of her coat.

Yunho is hard to miss, his height only exaggerated by the hat atop his head. You’re not entirely sure where you stand with him, though, given your place with Mingi. If Mingi’s still pissed at you (which, to give him credit, you’re not sure if he is), Yunho probably is too.

Speaking of Mingi, he approaches Yunho, his own height rather hard to miss in the crowd. He grabs his friend’s shoulder, exclaiming something that’s a bit too quiet for you to make out. But you know Mingi’s voice when you hear it.

After this, you have to talk to Mingi. Even though you might be a little… upset? Disappointed? At his outburst and his childish behavior, you have to make things right by him. Yunho, too, you suppose.

You still hold out hope that Haseul will make an appearance, though you’re sure Hongjoong made arrangements to keep her away. Though… if Mingi is here, who's watching her? It probably wouldn’t be hard to find someone else, but someone else that Hongjoong trusted that much… that’s a different story. You know that you should probably just drop it, but there’s something in you that feels like she’ll show up… you certainly have a lot of feelings, this morning.

A hand wraps around your elbow, startling you. You don’t have to look to recognize Hongjoong, his touch alone enough to identify him, burning hot even through your jacket.

“(Y/n),” he purrs, holding you close to him, “how are you feeling?”

You try to pull your arm away, to no avail. “Like I’m going to be sick.”

Hongjoong laughs, “you’ll be completely fine. You’re not the sacrifice.”

That doesn’t do anything to calm your nerves. That’s not what you’re worried about. And you’d rather not have to play one of his stupid games. “I have a sense that some anvil is about to fall on my head.”

“Hmmm,” he hums, “maybe. Maybe not. It depends on what you’re picturing.”

“I’m picturing what you wrote in The Answer.” You force the words out through gritted teeth. It’s so fucking annoying when he does this; when he doesn’t just speak his mind. You’d much prefer him telling you that, yeah, you’re about to be grievously harmed than have him just dangle the thought in front of your eyes.

“Well, either way, I’m sure you understand what will happen if you disrupt the ceremony.” Hongjoong’s voice is laced with that sickening smile of his, “or if you fail to complete your part in it.”

He’s right, he doesn’t need to remind you in the slightest. You can only imagine the fear that Haseul is in right now, but your own fear for her must be ten times worse. The idea of Hongjoong putting his hands on her makes your gut churn.

The fact that he backed you into such a perfect corner is almost sickening. It pisses you off to no end. Why did he have to bring her into this? Not that you would want him to use this treatment on Mingi, but, like, fuck, he at least already had him here. Was it really necessary to involve a completely innocent girl?

If you didn’t care what happened to her, you might just spit in the man’s face at this very second.

“I get it, Hongjoong.”

“Then you’ll do great!” He releases your arm, opting to pat your shoulder a couple times. “Simply stick to the outline. Do your part. And it’ll be over quickly.”

You take a deep breath, “Hongjoong,” you hope that saying his name will make him listen to you, “can I see her, afterword?”

His hand stops on your shoulder, squeezing. “Let’s see how you fare, first.” His voice seems harder with these words, more sharp. Hopefully that wasn’t some sort of huge overstep to him.

He cuts off the conversation at that, leaving your side to rejoin the crowd of Followers. He’s wearing the same outfit he had been wearing yesterday, the shiny material catching the light of the candles ever so as he moves.

“San,” you turn toward where San was standing, only to find him gone. You whirl around in a circle in a way that must look comical, searching for where he could have gone off to. He doesn’t appear to be in your near vicinity, somehow completely, wordlessly disappeared.

Dread swirls in your stomach. You were going to ask him if he knew what the sacrifice was going to be, finally reminded.

As if commanded by some outside force, the majority of the Followers suddenly stop their conversations. The room falls silent as people make their ways to their usual pews, sliding silently into their seats.

Per usual, you’ve been left out of the loop.

Without San to guide you into place, you really have no idea what you’re supposed to be doing. You look toward the front of the chapel, expecting to find Hongjoong glaring at you, but not even he is there to tell you what to do.

Looking around to the other Followers that are still standing, you’re mildly surprised to see Yunho only a couple feet away. He catches your eye, tipping his head toward the front of the room in signal. He starts walking, so you start walking.

You’re hyper aware of the sound of your footsteps on the wood floors, your boots clicking with each step. Yunho’s do, too. The steps are the only sound in the chapel.

With bated breath, you reach the front of the room. You glance toward your usual pew, hoping to see San sitting in your spot. He’s not, however, only making the rock in your stomach that much heavier.

Yunho steps up onto the little stage, offering you his hand to help with the step up. You take it, joining him and turning toward the congregation of Followers. From this angle, you can see… it takes you a second to count the heads… eight other Followers approaching the stage. You try to find Hongjoong among them, but he’s not there. Neither is San.

After what feels like forever, Yunho and yourself are joined by the others. You read this part, you feel okay about it. Well, not okay okay, but, like, you know. At least you know what to expect.

Yunho grabs your left hand, as someone you can’t recall the name of takes the place to your right; taking that hand into theirs.

The ten of you link into a circle, hand-in-hand.

You had kind of expected there to be more guidance from Hongjoong in this process. A narration or a sort of sermon over the top of your actions, but Hongjoong remains unseen and unheard as the Followers around you start their recitation.

“On this day we make our vow,” you don’t jump into the speech until the next sentence, unsure of how they knew that it was time to start. “From henceforth we pledge ourselves.”

You take three steps to your left. The Sign of the Answer twinkles in your peripheral vision. The Followers in the pews have their heads bowed.

“The Answer is near. We shall not wonder or fear.”

Three more steps.

“I myself am mighty and true. My blood will protect and provide anew.”

Three more steps to the left. This time, you almost step on Yunho’s toes. You try to look at the other Followers in your circle, but their heads are similarly bowed. You look back down at your feet. You’re lightheaded.

“The barrier is weak.”

Your hands float upwards, along with the rest of the circle’s. Still connected, everyone’s hands hang in the air of the center of the circle.

“United, we cast away the evil that would do us harm. We uninvite the spirits that dance between this Universe and the next.”

Someone, you’re not sure who, breaks the circle first. Your eyes are closed, you realize. You open them only when Yunho’s hand leaves your own; barely hearing his hushed whispering at your side. Before you know it, the knife is in your own hands.

It’s already sparkling with blood. At least Yunho’s. The lowlight makes it hard to see, but the Sign of the Answer does a beautiful job of illuminating just enough to reawaken your nausea. What the fuck is happening, right now? What the fuck are you about to do?

Yunho’s blood drips down the blade and onto your hand. It’s warm.

You’re sure that you’re going to faint.

But you hold the blade to your left hand, anyways, saying the words as quietly as you can. Surely, this is all just some batshit insane cult ceremony, but the weight of speaking them outloud is still sickening.

“I offer this vessel of myself for the betterment of the community. My blood banishes the evil from them, and calls it toward me. I swear this today and everyday.”

You swipe the blade across your palm, handing it off to the Follower next to you as fast as you can manage. You close your eyes again. Your hand burns. You almost think that you can hear your blood, dropping from your palm and hitting the floor.

At some point, the last person finishes. The knife clatters to the floor, the only sound in the chapel. You know to take three more steps to the left. And to finish the words.

“We call upon you to stay away.”

The scream makes you open your eyes.

Disorientated, you realize that you’re facing away from the crowd, staring directly at the Sign. But it’s not glowing anymore.

You turn around, blinded. Every candle in the chapel has gone out.

Was that the source of the scream? The lights going out? What the fuc—

The door behind the stage slams open. You jump again, spinning back as though you’d be able to see anything, anyhow.

Someone in the audience wails.

Are they seeing something that you’re not? Your heart pounds hard, so so hard. Is this panic? The spell? A heart attack?

You need to sit down. Yunho grabs your hand before you can stumble off of the stage. He pulls you behind him, keeping the arm behind his back to hold you there.

You fist the back of his coat, probably soiling the material with your blood, but it’s all you can do to keep yourself standing upright. The urge to vomit hits you again, but you prevail, closing your eyes as tight as you can.

Is this supposed to happen? This wasn’t in the outline. Are you meant to feel like such shit right now?

How did all of the candles go out?

Who the fuck is interrupting?

Something, or someone, drops in the middle of the circle.

You open your eyes again, peering around Yunho. The rest of the circle had stayed in place.

At the center of your circle, now, is a head.

Not a human head, thank God, but a pig’s. Your stomach still revolts, still tumbling over and over itself as you slide back into your spot in the circle. You clamp onto Yunho’s hand like its the only thing that you’ve ever known, grounding yourself the only way that you can.

Its still so dark. You close your eyes again

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do now. Is it over? You hope to God that its over. You can’t take another goddamned minute of thi—

You open your eyes at the same instant that Yunho yells. Everything happens so fucking fast.

Yunho falls backward, off of the stage. You process this secondly. Chiefly, however, your attention is caught by the figure now in front of you, where the pig head had been seconds before.

It’s huge. You can’t comprehend it entirely, what it is that you’re seeing. It doesn’t even look human. It grabs your now vacant hand, pulling you away from the Followers.

There’s a collective scream behind you, and you’re not surprised to realize that you’re also screaming.

You try to look into the face. But it doesn’t have a face. It’s nothing. Is this death?

You’re falling backwards, now. Before you know it, you’re on the ground, curling in on yourself.

Someone turns the overhead lights on. You cradle your hands to your chest, aware of the fact that you’re crying. The tears are hot on your cheeks. The blood is hot on your hands. The feeling of that, that, fucking thing making you want to retch.

What the fuck was that? What the fuck?

Hongjoong appears at your side, his face blurry. From your tears, from the panic? You’re not sure.

He asks if you’re okay. You can’t answer him. You close your eyes again.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

In your sleep, you see it again.

Even in this instance, you can’t tell what it is. It’s shaped like a person, but you can’t look directly at it. You know that if you look, it won’t have a face.

In your dream, it’s even bigger than it was. It towers over you, grabbing you over and over, your screaming and begging doing nothing to appease it.

You can see its hands as they reach, as they latch onto you. They’re white. But they’re not skin. It’s cloth, you realize, gloves.

The rest of it is white, too. But it certainly doesn’t look like clothing. You couldn’t ever explain it to someone if they asked, and you’re much too terrified to go digging into the details.

All you know is that it doesn’t have a face. It’s not natural. Every part of you hates every part of this thing.

You want to wake up.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

And so you do, in the infirmary.

The first thing you see are the familiar ceiling tiles. The second thing is Hongjoong.

You startle awake, twitching in on yourself as you try to sit up.

Hongjoong sucks in a breath, though he doesn’t get to his feet to help you. He’s still wearing that outfit.

You’re still wearing yours, you realize. The pants rub uncomfortably against the blanket laying over you. You’re able to sit up easily enough, and you’re relieved to realize that nothing hurts. You feel fine.

“So, do you believe me now?” Hongjoong asks once you’re up, but he’s not smiling in triumph as you would’ve imagined.

“What the fuck was that thing?”

Hongjoong sighs, “Exactly what I was trying to protect us from. A guardian.”

You blink at him, dumbfounded. There’s literally no fucking way in hell that Hongjoong has been right about any of this. He’s insane. He is fully, entirely, batshit insane.

You can’t explain away whatever the fuck just happened, but you’re not about to accept that he’s been telling you the truth. That there are alternate universes and demons that can jump between them. That’s not real life. That’s not how the world works.

Whatever just happened, whatever that was, there’s a reasonable explanation. Surely.

Though you can’t imagine what that explanation would be, it must exist. The last fucking thing in the world that you’re going to do now is believe in Hongjoong. Like, what the fuck? What the fuck? Why would you fucking believe in a fucking religion that has fucking faceless demons fucking running around freely? You wouldn’t. You refuse. You will not.

Even if that is the only explanation for the thing in white, you are not going to believe it. You would sooner believe that you have a hallucination disorder than accept that Hongjoong is right about anything.

Thinking about it, you probably would have to have some sort of psychosis to accept any of this. But, then again, this is exactly the sort of thing that would trigger psychosis…

You’re thinking way too fucking hard about this. It is simple. Hongjoong is a freak.

“Where’s San?” The question is natural.

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows, “Interesting follow-up question. I thought it best to separate you two for now.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he stands up. “How is your hand?”

You had honestly forgotten about it. Holding it up, you examine your bandage. “Fine.”

The two of you stay in silence. Hongjoong seems mad.

“Is that really all you’re going to ask?” He asks, almost sounding whiny. Like a child.

It’s certainly all you’re going to ask him. He’ll only lie to you. “Can I see Seonghwa?” You ask instead.

Hongjoong scoffs. He brushes his hair back, looking around the room as if he’s expecting some live studio audience to empathize with him. “I know you’re not fucking him.”

You shrug. “Are you okay, Hongjoong?”

His face falls flat. He crosses his arms over his chest, turning to fully face you again. “I’m great.” The words are strained. You’ve never known Hongjoong to be a bad liar.

“You seem kinda pissed.”

“I am not—” He closes his eyes, bringing a hand up to his forehead. “I’m fine. I’ll have Seonghwa come visit, since you clearly won’t be speaking to me.” He says this like he expects you to apologize. But what the hell would you apologize for?

Hongjoong leaves without another word once it becomes clear that you won’t be giving him what he wants. You’re sure that he expected more crying, more fear, more begging and pleading for answers.

You save that for once you’re sure that he’s gone.

Trembling, you pull your knees to your chest. Your fingers twitch with fear, your hair feels foreignly heavy, your wrist burns and burns where the thing had touched you.

You refuse to believe that it was real. It cannot be real. None of this can be real. There was some trick, some show, some plan that you weren’t privy to. Seonghwa will tell you. He’ll have to tell you. He’s honest, most of the time. He’ll explain it away, he’ll tell you how Hongjoong did it and why it seemed so real.

Where was its face?

How had they done that? Where the fact should have been, there was nothing. You couldn’t even say that it was a color. It was a void. An emptiness. There was nothing there.

The memory makes you dizzy. You lean back against the pillows, praying to God that you’re not going insane. Had you really seen that? You couldn’t have. Because that’s just not something that’s possible.

If Seonghwa can’t explain this, you might go crazy. You might. What else is there to do? It wasn’t real. But the fear that you’re feeling now certainly is.

What if it comes back? What if they make it come back? What was it? Where was its face?

Even though whatever the fuck that was wasn’t real, the memory certainly is. You’re going to be lucky to sleep soundly one night for the rest of your damn life. What the fuck.

Seonghwa lets himself into the room only a few minutes after Hongjoong had left.

“You like me so much that you ask for me now?” He smirks, approaching your side.

His face falls flat when he takes a good look at you. “Stop that. Why are you crying?”

“Seonghwa.” You feel that it’s quite obvious why you’re crying.

He only blinks at you.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice shakes with the question.

“I—” He starts, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “Its complicated.”

You cover your face with your hands. “Was it real? Just be honest.”

You can’t see his reaction to your question, and he doesn’t answer it, either.

“What was it?” You moan, hardly able to even spit the words out. To basically admit to Seonghwa that you were scared.

“I think it would be better if you talked to Hongjoo—”

“I am not talking to Hongjoong!”

You take your hands away from your face, needing to look at him. You hate him. You hate him more than fucking anything. Why can’t he just be honest? Why is he Hongjoong’s little fucking doll? Why does he worship him to such a degree when he’s this fucking evil? Where would he draw the line?

Seonghwa is stunned into silence. He only stares down at you.

“All I can say is that I didn’t know it was going to happen.”

He looks blurry through your tears, only making you angrier as you recall Hongjoong looking the same way.

“Stop bullshitting me, please, Seonghwa,” you beg. “I think I’ll go insane if you don’t fucking answer me.”

He turns away from your bed, striding to one of the medicine cabinets in an attempt to look anywhere but your face. He rakes a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead momentarily.

“What do you want to hear?” He asks, turning back toward you, though he keeps his distance. “Would you rather know what Hongjoong is capable of or would you rather keep the comforting thought that he’s right? Wouldn’t that just be easier for everybody?”

“You’re saying that Hongjoong can do things scarier than the thought of fucking interdimensional demons being real?” You throw your hands out in front of you, almost yelling in frustration.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! Yes!” Seonghwa matches your tone. “He’s only going to come at you harder. He exists to make you break! Just fucking accept the truth for what he says that it is, and everything will come easily!”

“I’m not going to do that!”

Seonghwa laughs bitterly. “I’m sure you believe that, too, Princess.”

You stare back at him, sure that you look insane. “Can you be genuine for one fucking second?”

His face contorts into a scowl. “I’ve never been anything but genuine with you. You’re the one that deludes yourself.” He strides back to the door, freezing in the frame. “Is there anything else you wish to fling at me?”

“I’m taking this to mean that it wasn’t real.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.”

Seonghwa leaves.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Can you bear some girl time? You’re not sure as Nayeon lets herself in, walking casually into the room as if the literal antichrist of her religion didn’t just make a physical appearance before her.

“How are we feeling?” She asks, dragging out the vowel sounds in her question.

“Uhm,” you look at your hand, the only injured part of your body, “fine, I guess.”

“Perfect!” She smiles, reaching out to put her hand under yours. “The bandage looks fine. I don’t think it’ll reopen.”

Nayeon had found time to change her clothes. She’s back to her usual farm girl outfit, smiling and happy.

“Are you alright, Nayeon?” You ask, curious to know what a regular Follower made of what the fuck happened.

She frowns, and then shrugs, and then smiles again. “I mean, it was, like, a bit scary. But Hongjoong made it go away, and he’s always with us, so it’s not like it can come back to hurt us. I was definitely scared at first, but then he showed up and I knew it would be okay.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, slowly. Nayeon has always been a valuable source of information for you.

“It was just so valiant; do you remember how he saved you?” She giggles, “he still has it going for you. It’s amazing.”

You shake your head. “I can’t say that I remember much…” Other than the fucking maw of emptiness.

“Oh, well I got you.” She pulls up one of her rolling stools, sitting herself down right next to your bed. “So the ceremony went great. Textbook, really. But as it was finishing… I guess I’m not really sure how it happened, either. Like, one second everything was fine, and the next Yunho was on the ground— he’s fine, by the way; wind knocked out of him, but yeah, anyways— and the Guardian was there and everyone was screaming, it was so scary. I guess it grabbed you… and then Hongjoong appeared and it was like his presence just scared it away. I didn’t see what happened exactly… but the next thing I knew you were on the ground and Hongjoong was hollering for my help.”

She shrugs.

What you gather from that is that she didn’t see how it got there or how it left. Good signs, probably. She’d certainly remember seeing something… appear out of thin air. You almost want to smile. What a silly thought, that that could have all been real… haha… ha… yeah, funny…

“I see…” You respond, not sure what you’re supposed to say, “how much time has passed?”

Nayeon looks at her watch, “like, three hours.”

Great. Perfect, actually. It would be very unfortunate to find out that you had been unconscious for a week again, especially given the circumstances with Haseul. She’s probably already freaking out, but not hearing anything from you for a week…

Is Hongjoong going to let you see her? After your brush with death? It wasn’t your fault that… whatever happened happened. Like, he planned that, not you. Surely he can’t hold this over your head. If anything, you basically almost just got kidnapped into a parallel universe, he should be treating you very kindly, right?

Asshole. He’s probably going to bitch and moan for the next week about you not being scared of him. Fucking asshat.

But… God, ugh, this is all so frustrating. On one hand, you’re pissed at him for, you don’t know, literally everything that he’s ever done to you, maybe? But on the other, you know that you’re going to have to play by his rules to get him to leave Haseul alone. Or, well, at least as alone as he can.

When is she going to have a Choosing ceremony, you wonder? Yours didn’t take very long…

Well, if he doesn’t let you see her after this, at least you have that to… tentatively look forward to… ew, you don’t even want to be thinking like that.

Nayeon stands at your side, bringing you back.

You don’t realize why until you look behind her, only to spot Yunho standing near the doorway.

He’s changed out of his clothes, thankfully. But just seeing him is enough to flood your mind with the thought of the thing, your stomach lurching over again as he welcomes himself into the room, clearing his throat.

Nayeon pats his shoulder as she walks past him, excusing herself. Yunho stops at the foot of your bed.

You have to admit that he might be one of the last people you would have expected to visit you, now. You had been thinking it before everything happened, but you don’t really think he has any lost love for you, given your circumstances with Mingi.

“Thank you,” you break the silence, forcing the words out before you can think better of them, “for, uhm, trying to help me. And, I mean, actually helping me, too.” You can’t forget that he had kept you standing when the sacrifice was presented. How ruined is his coat?

He awkwardly looks at his hands, which are gripping the rail at the end of your bed. “Don’t mention it.” His voice is so meager that you barely can hear him.

Yunho doesn’t look up. You’re not sure what else to say. So you speak without thinking, again. “How’s Mingi?”

He peeks up at you, but then goes right back to staring down. “He’s… uhm, well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

He pries his hands off of the rail, but then stares at them like he’s unsure that they’re even his hands. Tucking his hands behind his back, he continues, though he still doesn’t look straight at you, “I, uhm, yeah. Mingi is worried about you, and I think his worry came off the wrong way to you and San.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod, slowly, and semi-sarcastically. You could’ve guessed that. “He has an interesting way of showing it.”

Yunho takes a deep breath, “He doesn’t know that I’m here. I just thought that I would try and explain his side of things. From his perspective, he is the reason that you’re here and he feels guilty for that; but he’s also pissed that you’ve gotten close with San so quickly, because he doesn’t like him and he feels like you won’t take his concerns seriously.”

“I don’t see what there is to be concerned about,” you plainly state, “do you have something against San, Yunho? Any reason at all to believe that Mingi could have reason to suspect that he’s not what he shows me?”

Yunho startles when you say his name, like someone barely inhabiting their own body. “I mean, no. I think Mingi is probably just projecting his fear onto San, but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Exactly. So why should I have to cater to Mingi’s ego?” The words sound harsh even as you say them, but its a genuine question. You don’t have much reason to believe that San would ever do anything to hurt you… besides him being someone that Hongjoong clearly trusts, but, like, you’ve been over that a million times before.

Yunho just shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe you would hear me out, since I know it’s hard for you to be alone with Mingi.” He stops his nervous fidgeting, finally looking directly at you. “I wasn’t nice to you because I harbor any sweetness towards you, for the record. I don’t even care that you’re the new object of Hongjoong’s affection. I only tried to help because I knew that, if I didn’t, Mingi would have.” His voice is harder than you’ve ever heard it; a shocking contrast to how he had been speaking just moments earlier. He maintains eye contact with you, his eyes dark.

You’re the one to look away, this time, disturbed by what he said. What a very random and slightly disturbing thing to say.

When you look back up at him, Yunho is already nervously looking around the room. His hands are in front of him again as he plays with his fingers.

“Well,” you clear your throat, “thanks anyways, Yunho.”

“Yep,” is all he says before leaving your room, basically running.

… That was strange. Very strange.

Nayeon doesn’t return. You’re left alone, puzzling over that entire interaction.

What… what was the point of that? Like, okay, sure you can get him wanting to try and vouch for Mingi. But… uhm??? The last part? What? Why was that so ominous? Huh?

You had never known Yunho to be particularly timid… or… rude… This all is just very weird. Maybe even weirder than the fake demon situation.

No, scratch that, definitely not any weirder than that. That one is gonna keep you awake for a while. A good while. But Yunho’s behavior was definitely not his usual, which is almost concerning. Almost… only because you suppose that you don’t really know him that well. Maybe he’s only really nice and outgoing to strangers…

That wouldn’t make sense, either.

Whatever, you really can’t be worrying about that right now. You have priorities.

Priorities of which you would list, at least in your head, if San didn’t come barreling through the door the next moment.

You startle, shocked by his sudden appearance. He’s changed, but he doesn’t look great. His hair is a mess, his lip is split, his shirt is untucked in places.

He reaches out for you, and you reach him halfway, grabbing his forearms as he grabs yours. Wordlessly, he looks over your face hastily, pressing his lips to yours before you can ask what happened.

Your lips part, and he puts his forehead on yours. “We need to get out of here. As soon as possible.”

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