Chapter Text
Young-min was trying and failing to wake himself up from this so-called ‘dream’.
That was his only explanation for what was currently occurring. Nothing else made sense. He couldn’t possibly be lying here, in his own living room, in the middle of the morning, tied up and threatened as if he were the one at fault. For merely existing. In his own home!
What made even less sense was Seung-tak. He honestly had no idea where to begin. Was this some sort of prank, or had Young-min somehow found himself dealing with a twin brother who Seung-tak had never once mentioned before? No, that didn’t sound right. Seung-tak was an only child, of course, how he could forget? But then it still didn’t make sense, because…
How else could Young-min possibly explain his current situation?
He struggled awkwardly on the floor, straining at his well-bound hands, and getting no-where. Using up his energy, he gave up again, slumping against the soft carpet he’d been thrown against mere minutes ago. Closing his eyes, he began to think back to the beginning of the day, and attempt to figure out exactly where his day had gone wrong, or if, in the worst case scenario, he’d simply gone insane.
Young-min had felt awkward the entire night after his interaction with Seung-tak the previous evening. He’d hoped today could be a new step in the direction that he wanted to take their friendship. That is to say… perhaps, if he was so inclined, Seung-tak would talk to him, and they’d be able to mutually discuss the obvious more-than-friends aura that had been floating around between the two of them.
With that in mind, Young-min had barely slept, which was why he assumed he was dreaming, or becoming boreline delirious. But he was getting ahead of himself now— that came later. At first, he’d risen from bed after barely sleeping a wink, to get himself set up for the day, whatever that might entail. Breakfast came to mind immediately, and so he’d made his way to the kitchen, contemplating what to make. He’d opted for Seung-tak’s favourites, naturally, as any excuse to eat and bond together over food was a guilty pleasure, he could admit.
Then, Young-min waited. And waited. And waited for far too long. He’d looked up at the clock with an anxious sigh when the time passed ten o’clock, and that’s when he knew something had to be wrong. Seung-tak could sleep in, sure, and so could he— but it was ridiculously late, given the circumstances. Young-min couldn’t shake the strange feeling clutching his heart, suffocating his chest— that there was something amiss, perhaps something he couldn’t quite comprehend.
Worse case scenario was that Seung-tak was simply avoiding him. But now, after the morning’s subsequent events, Young-min had come to realise there was something far, far more sinister at play.
And that was exactly what had occurred the moment he opened the door to Seung-tak’s room. He’d tried knocking, tried talking through from his side, hoping his words would be audible, but still, no luck. It got to the point where Young-min thought that Seung-tak wasn’t in there at all, but he couldn’t muster the strength to cross the boundary and open the door himself.
Then just as all hope had been lost, Seung-tak’s door swung wide open, and Young-min was startled, a complete loss for words.
The man in front of him, at first glance, was Seung-tak. It was his face, without a doubt. For some reason, he appeared slightly taller, or maybe he was standing straighter than usual. His hair had gone from soft and fluffy to dark and ragged. But it was the eyes that stood out the most. The gentle, caring gaze had been replaced by something fiery, fierce and almost animalistic in a way. There was something borderline feral in his eyes.
Something wasn’t right. This… couldn’t be the man he was looking for.
“Seung-tak-ah?” Young-min had said, unable to think of any other word that would make sense. “Are you… okay?”
Without warning, the man he thought was Seung-tak lurched towards him, clutching Young-min by his shirt and wrestling him to the floor. He’d not been expecting a fight, or anything physical— in fact, Seung-tak had always been a kind soul, with not a violent bone in his body, only further adding to the surprise of catching him off-guard. Young-min could barely keep up any longer. He was thrown across the room, sliding to a halt in the kitchen. Before gaining his balance, ‘Seung-tak’ was standing over him, pushing him harshly to the ground and yelling obscenities.
Young-min struggled to keep up with the confusing onslaught of questions. There was a harsh tone to his voice, and other than a familiar face, nothing else about this man was Seung-tak. How was that possible? What the hell was happening? Had Seung-tak completely broken from stress, turning himself into whatever this was?
Young-min didn’t recognise him at all.
Thankfully, ‘Seung-tak’ had shown him mercy, eventually tiring by the lack of answers to his incomprehensible questions. In the end, Young-min had only sustained a rather rough blow to the chin, and a few bruises that would soon heal. Being unable to answer the strange litany of insults questions thrown his way, Young-min had been pushed over, knelt on, and his arms bound with one of his previously discarded ties.
For some reason, Seung-tak had forgotten who he was. That was the only explanation, or at least, partly. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten Young-min, it was more like he’d been replaced by an entirely new person, who looked just like him, but acted the complete opposite. Considering what he’d seen, he struggled to comprehend such a thing, wondering if there were any answers in his many years as a doctor. Ironically enough, Young-min felt that if anyone knew or had the answer to such a case, it would be Seung-tak himself.
And that was how Young-min had found himself in the current moment; injured, confused, scared, and tied up on the floor. ‘Seung-tak’ had left shortly afterwards, acting as if Young-min were a criminal, or dangerous, hence his inability to move at the current moment. But he couldn’t give up, not right now, not yet— especially without answers, and especially not when Seung-tak needed him most.
There was no telling where Seung-tak was heading, or what he was doing. He was clearly in distress, and whether or not he realised it right now, Young-min was the person he needed beside him. Which was the reason why Young-min couldn’t remain here, and wait and hope to be found. He had to do something, he had to get out of here, and chase after Seung-tak, before he hurt himself. Whatever the case, Young-min wouldn’t blame him for this odd behaviour. He was going to find Seung-tak, bring him home, keep him safe, and then, he was going to figure out what the hell was happening.
After what felt like hours, Young-min finally managed to wrestle one of his slender wrists from the bindings. He was thankful that a material on the softer side was used to tie him up, as it was kinder to his skin, less likely to burn and bruise. Young-min was quick to his feet afterwards, shaking off whatever injuries he might have, sustained as they felt so insignificant in the grand scheme of their situation.
Right now, his mind was only focused on Seung-tak, and the fear of what he’d do should anything happen to him. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time.
Running towards the entrance, Young-min snagged his coat and car keys, and threw the door closed behind him.
Yeon had to keep his composure, or at least, try to.
Whenever it came to Rang, his brother, his family, well— he tended to lose himself, throwing judgement and coherent thought out the window. Now was another one of those moments, but there was more at play than he could understand, especially after discovering Rang was missing, with the only clue left in his place being a mysterious human doppelganger.
The morning had been far too excitable. The poor boy had passed out, most likely due from a combination of the confusion, stress and anxieties. But what left Yeon most curious was that, without a doubt, this boy could perceive him, which was unheard of for a human. Perhaps he was something else, some other type of demon or half-demon that Yeon hadn’t crossed paths with before. Or could it be that there was such a creature who could mimic one’s likeness, and disguise their true demonic nature?
Yeon shook his head with an exhaustive sigh. As minutes passed, he became more anxious for answers. He could tell that this wasn’t Rang playing a trick on him, but that still left so many questions— not only as to where his brother had disappeared to, but in turn, where had this lookalike appeared from? Yeon believed he was as confused as the rest of them, waking up in the place of someone he looked like would bewilder any poor soul, especially if he had no part in this occurrence.
Yeon was determined to find out what this human knew. He was the only clue on hand. He was the key to finding Rang, and that was all that mattered to Yeon. Hopefully, with Taluipa’s help, they’d be able to get to the bottom of who or what was behind this.
Pausing by the car, Yeon hesitated. He stared down at the man in his arms with a held breath. There was no doubt about it; he was an almost exact physical replica of his brother. His sleeping expression took Yeon back to years ago, when he and Rang lived together on their mountain, and they would often fall asleep in each other’s arms, especially during the cold winter months. The memory caused his heart to skip a beat, recalling such a gentle and comforting memory of his beloved brother, and fearing that he’d not had the chance to tell Rang how much he truly cared for him before he’d disappeared.
This wasn’t the end. He would find Rang. He’d make sure of it. There was no conceivable reason for Yeon to allow the two of them to permanently part ways as they had. Once Rang was back, here, in the safety of his arms, then— then they’d talk.
Shin-ju trailed behind him, huffing for breath. “Lord Yeon!” He came to a stop, unlocking the car and making his way to the driver’s side. “Hop in the back. You’re in no state to drive right now,” Shin-ju added, ignoring any response as he jumped into the driver’s seat. “We’d better get going.”
Yeon snapped himself out of it, complying wordlessly. He set down the young human on one side, buckling him safely in place, before taking the seat beside him. It felt odd to be so close to a stranger, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d met before, in some way, shape or form.
It was but another curiosity that Taluipa might be able to provide answers to.
“Granny.”
Taluipa stared up from her desk, her face as expressionless as ever. She all but disregarded Yeon immediately; eyes set on the unconscious body in his arms. Rising from her seat, she made her way over to Yeon with a flick of her wrist, pointing towards the couch.
“Place him there,” she said hurriedly, following closely beside Yeon. “Let’s figure out what we’re dealing with.”
Yeon hesitated for a moment, staring at the human in his arms again, still sound asleep. He had to keep reminding himself this wasn’t Rang, this wasn’t his beloved brother. And yet, there was something there in his chest, a newfound feeling, a possessiveness of sorts, but more so out of protectiveness than anything else. He felt responsible for him, realising that this human was far more fragile than his half-human brother, and becoming wrapped up in the world of spirits and demons could only cause further harm.
Feeling eyes upon him, Yeon finally gave in, gently placing the lookalike down on the offered couch. He remained sound asleep, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with each rhythmic breath. He appeared so calm and comfortable like this, but Yeon would take a guess and say he’d panic again once he woke and came face to face with his newfound gumiho companions again.
Taluipa sat down beside him, studying the human closely. “There’s no denying the resemblance,” she muttered, staring over every inch of the strange doppelganger. “I feel something otherworldly about him; there is something at play here. But this boy, this human… he’s been brought here by no will of his own.”
“I suspected as much,” Yeon said, running a hand through his hair. “This makes no sense to me. Nothing has made sense so far.”
“For reasons unknown, this boy has been taken from his home, and placed where Rang had once been. That much is clear,” Taluipa said, concentrating on the human’s energy.
Yeon wasn’t sure what she was doing but he knew well enough not to interrupt her. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the human either way. “So it’s no trick, then. He really is a human,” he said, considering how little this information benefited him.
Taluipa nodded. “No one can hide from my gaze, not even your brother.”
“Rang-ah…” Yeon whispered, trying not to become emotional at the fear of never seeing him again. “Do you know where he is?” He asked, speaking louder than necessary. He could tell he was going to fall apart if the news was grim.
There was a silent moment, then Taluipa shook her head. “I suspect they may have been swapped entirely.”
“What makes you say that?” Yeon couldn’t understand her line of thinking.
“Because this man doesn’t belong here, and I can no longer sense Lee Rang’s presence.”
“So then he’s left the city, or gone somewh—”
“Yeon,” Taluipa interrupted, her commanding tone pulling him back in line. “They may have swapped locations, but you will still not find your brother here, nor this human’s home. Do you understand?”
Yeon’s brow furrowed. “No, I don’t.” Her words both comforted and confused him further. But there was one concept that came to mind, that she was referring to. “Are you saying… that they’re from different worlds entirely? And by that, Rang is alive, but in a different world? A… parallel universe?” Yeon asked, unable to comprehend his own question, wishing it were untrue, hoping to wake from this ridiculous dream.
Taluipa offered a long, drawn-out sigh. Even she was disappointed that she was unable to provide the answers he wanted. “That’s the only explanation that currently comes to mind, given what we know, and what we have. I suspect this boy won’t be of much help to you, but you’ll need to keep him safe. There’s no telling who or what has caused this, or what their intentions are.”
“Right. Okay.” Yeon began to pace the room, hating how useless he felt. He couldn’t simply wait around until something else happened. What if Rang was hurt? What if he was in danger? What if this human had come from a bad place, where Rang now found himself lost and confused?
Before he could panic further, a sound caught his attention, his ears perking up, recognising the noise as originating from his new companion. He was stirring from sleep, and Yeon immediately returned to his side, wondering what to do, or what to say, or what to possibly ask first as a thousand questions came to mind.
“It’s you…” The man said groggily, as if still in a dream. “Mister Fox.” He was giggling, entertained by the name for some strange reason.
Taluipa interjected before Yeon could reply. “Why does he refer to you by that name?”
“I, well—”
“His ears. Can’t you see them?” The human said, reaching for one of them lazily, but Yeon gently caught his hand and guided it back down.
Taluipa dragged Yeon away, demanding his attention. “Yeon. You never mentioned he could perceive us.” Her words sounded almost accusatory, but Yeon waved her off.
“I had suspected him at first due to that, though he is not the first human I’ve come across who holds such abilities. It’s a rarity, but it happens,” Yeon replied. “I wonder if that is mere coincidence, or another clue to solving this predicament we find ourselves in. It has to mean something.”
“Wait, I… this is…”
The two of them turned back to the human they’d been ignoring the past few moments. He was now sitting upright, eyes open, staring down at his hands, then their surroundings, before finally focusing on the pair currently chatting about him. He was wide awake now, there was no mistaking it.
“This isn’t a dream, is it? This is…” Terror came over him, and Yeon recognised that expression from earlier. “This is real… it can’t be…”
Yeon’s breath hitched. The man looked terrified, shivering on the spot. He couldn’t stop himself from walking back over to him, wanting to comfort him, unable to shake the similarities he saw in Rang, and convince himself it was a different person entirely. His yearning to see his brother was becoming twisted the longer they were apart, whilst Rang’s presence remained unaccounted for.
Right now, he had to keep a level head.
“It’s okay, you’re in safe hands,” Yeon said, staring into the man’s eyes, watching his tenseness ease slightly. “My name is Lee Yeon. May I ask for yours?” If he knew the human’s name, that would be one step to understanding him better, and hopefully, stop his mind from insisting he was Rang.
The human cleared his throat awkwardly, hands fidgeting in his lap. “Ko Seung-tak,” he replied humbly. “Can I… go home now? I don’t understand why I’m here.”
Taluipa stepped in again. “You’d both better get going,” she said to Yeon, gesturing to the door. “Remaining here won’t do you any good. And by the looks of it, you’ve got some explaining to do. He needs to be caught up on the situation, first and foremost. I’ll call you when I learn more about the situation.”
Yeon was back up on his feet, closer to her than intended. “And then what? What else can we do in the meantime?” He asked with clear frustration, trying not to yell. “I cannot wait blindly until my brother returns. He could be in danger, for all we know. I have to—”
“Be patient!” Taluipa’s voice had risen to the level where Yeon instinctively froze. Her wrath was not an additional stress he needed right now, given the circumstances. “I will do what I can from here. For now, I command you to take this boy into your care, and guard him with your life. The first sign I learn of more, you will know.” She took a deep breath, composing herself. “I may not care for Lee Rang but I will not allow this sort of deception to occur in my realm.”
The conversation was over, whether Yeon agreed or not. He’d known Taluipa longer than most, and although she could irritate him and never offer the help he needed, she was more powerful than he was, and if anyone could help him get Rang back, it was her. For now, he’d take his boy— no, he’d take Ko Seung-tak back to his home, reconvene with the others, and figure out what to do next.
“Come on.” Yeon stood by Seung-tak offering a comforting smile. He nodded towards the exit, offering the young man his hand. “We’d best be going, and I’ll fill you in on the way.” With that said, the two of them headed out the door, and back to the car.
Yeon was determined to uncover the mystery of Ko Seung-tak, and needed to obtain his trust for this to work. He was going to spend every waking moment figuring out how this strange little human came to be here with him, and how exactly he was the key to returning Rang safely to Yeon’s arms.
If Rang wasn’t already in a terrible mood, then he was now.
Attacking the first person he saw probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but Rang couldn’t help himself. He was angry and confused, wanting answers that were falling on deaf ears, and most importantly— he wanted to return home. Even though he swore he recollected falling asleep in his own bed last night, it didn’t matter. He was here, now, with no explanation as to the how, and the only other person here was refusing to give him what he wanted.
None of the sights or smells felt right. Something was out of place. What’s more irritating ess that Rang couldn’t find his phone anywhere either. In fact, other than the clothes he’d worn to bed, he couldn’t find any of his other personal items. Considering his current clothing was his usual sleeping attire, that added further to the insanity of the situation— this wasn’t what he’d wear out, nor were a change of clothes lying around anywhere in sight.
If Rang could hazard a guess, it was almost as if he’d been taken from his resting place, and moved without his knowledge. He laughed at that, how insane a concept, he thought. Although, even with doubt on his mind, Rang couldn’t help but agree that such a thing made more sense than anything else that had occurred since he’d woken up.
Disregarding the human he’d interrogated and subsequently tied up, Rang had had enough of this foreign place. He’d find his way back to his home in no time. It couldn’t possibly be that far. And if so, there were plenty of demons he could find all across the city who owed him a favour, and would be more than willing to help once he showed up, with a grin on his lips and his claws outstretched.
The answers he was looking for wouldn’t be found here, and so with that, he left the strange apartment with no intentions of ever returning.
Seung-tak struggled to hear anything over the sound of his heart beat. He’d not felt this afraid and out of place since the accident he endured as a child. That anxiety, that fear of death, the way he was trapped out of his body, in a place that made no sense—
This situation might be different, but he was terrified nonetheless. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see Young-min, and forgive him for missing breakfast, and ask if they could talk. He missed his calm expression, and how he’d always lend a hand or an ear when Seung-tak needed it most. The normalcy of their life felt so foreign to this spiritual world he felt himself now trapped within.
When they’d left, the kind red-haired fox-man had escorted him to his car, offering Seung-tak a ride to his home. He would have preferred being taken to a familiar place, but he was too tired and confused to protest as of yet. Another man, another fox- man, had been waiting in the car, just as kind as the other, who promptly drove them away.
It wasn’t long until they arrived at their destination. It was an apartment building, rather fancy by the looks of it, a little similar to where Young-min lived, but a bit more extravagant. Seung-tak was curious as to what exactly Lee Yeon’s occupation was to afford such luxury.
But for now, he had far more pressing questions to attend to.
“How long until I can go home?” Seung-tak asked, after barely taking a step inside the fox’s home.
Yeon shrugged, following suit and relaxing a little. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if that’s an option right now.”
Seung-tak failed to keep his composure at that answer. “Please, I just want to—”
“Ah! No, it’s not that I don’t want to take you back home, but…” The red-head’s voice softened, trying to comfort him. “It’s more of a matter of…” He made a vague gesture with his hands. “You’re most likely not from around here, I mean. Far from home, in a way. V ery far.”
That didn’t make any sense. Seung-tak was in his bed only last night, so how could that be?
Yeon waved towards the table, taking a seat opposite him. “I know this makes little sense right now. None of us know how you ended up where you were this morning, or… where the man who was supposed to be there had disappeared to.” He sighed, intertwining his fingers. “Let me tell you what I know.”
Seung-tak nodded, listening intently. Yeon recounted the day’s events, from before he turned up to the apartment where Seung-tak had awoken, to when he’d first stepped foot in that same bedroom. How he’d never expected to find a human there, let alone one who looked so similar to someone he cared for. He added that humans rarely perceived beings like Yeon and his kin, adding to their confusion even more so.
It was a lot to wrap his head around, but it was a start.
“Okay, so… you suspect that I’ve somehow come here from a different reality entirely, and have been ‘swapped’ with someone who looks just like me…” Seung-tak raised an eyebrow. “It’s a hard idea to grasp but, that makes sense in some ways, considering I’ve never seen someone like you, with the—” He pointed at the top of his head, referring to the fox’s ears.
“Gumiho,” Yeon stated, and his tails swished around momentarily. “I’m a nine-tailed fox demon. And no, don’t worry— I’m not going to eat your liver, or whatever silly superstitions there are currently floating around about my kind that you humans like to share amongst yourselves.”
“…Right, a gu-mi-ho.” The word was so foreign on his tongue, and Seung-tak tried not to focus on whatever the fox-man meant by eating his liver. “And those others from before, are they the same as you?” Seung-tak asked, knowing the answer already but hoping to be clarified.
Yeon nodded. “That’s right. You met Koo Yu-ri this morning, and her husband, Koo Shin-ju, who drove us here.”
“Wait, those two— they’re married?” Seung-tak did a double-take, surprised to learn that, or more surprised that he hadn’t realised sooner. “I guess that makes sense…” He wasn’t married himself, nor did he have anyone that close to begin with, so he couldn’t be too shocked to learn that.
“They’re an interesting pair, aren’t they?” Yeon laughed, sitting back in his seat. “Don’t mind her, though. She’s more ferocious than most of us, but ultimately harmless. You gave her a fright, is all, appearing where you were this morning.”
Seung-tak thought back to those early hours, and the rather terrifying interaction they’d shared when he had woken up. It led him to become more curious about the man he’d replaced, the so-called lookalike, and what that person meant to these fox people that Seung-tak was now surrounded by.
Yeon cleared his throat, a question on his mind. Seung-tak could tell there was something more he wanted to ask, and wondered if it was about the man Seung-tak had inadvertently replaced. He couldn’t blame him for missing the person he’d expected to find in that room.
“Considering you woke up where Rang had last been seen, then I suspect - if our theory of you both swapping places has any semblance of truth - then he has found himself where you were last as well.”
Seung-tak couldn’t believe he’d never realised that up to this point. The fact that he’d woken up here, and met unfamiliar faces, and strange beings like no-one he’d ever met before, then— that meant that the opposite had to be true as well.
“Oh no…” His eyes widened as realisation hit. He was— he was staying at Young-min’s place, they’d been together last night. If he’d woken up here, then his look-alike must have—
“What’s wrong?” Yeon asked, edging slightly closer with concern. “Were you not in a safe place before you found yourself here?”
“Yes, yes, of course, I was in my bedroom, like any other night. Although… I have to ask,” Seung-tak swallowed thickly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “This person, the one you’ve lost. The one that looks just like me. What are they like?” He asked, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.
Yeon paused, considering the question. He took in a deep breath, sighing slowly and loudly, in a completely exaggerated manner. “That’s a rather complicated question, if I’m honest,” he started, mulling over his words. “But first, and foremost, he’s… well, he’s my brother. My dongsaeng. A kind hearted soul deep down, but, rather standoffish and confrontational to most.”
“Oh…” Nothing said so far was doing anything to calm Seung-tak’s fears. “He sounds nothing like me. I don’t know why, but when you said we looked similar, I assumed personalities might be as well, to a degree.”
“You’re a dead ringer for him. Identical. Could be twins if I didn’t know any better.” Yeon chuckled. “It’s the hair that gives you away. But other than that, I agree— you’re nothing like him. Not that that’s a bad thing.”
“But then, what if—” Seung-tak couldn’t hide his fear any longer. “If your brother has woken where I had been, how do you think he’d react to my—” He cut himself off, wondering what word to use. His boss? His co-worker? His friend? His…
“Your what, exactly? Wait…” Yeon grimaced, lips turning to a thin line. “There’s a chance he’d be less than impressed to wake up like you have with no idea as to the how or why of his situation. It could be possible that he’d… not react well to strangers.”
Seung-tak turned rigid, standing to his feet immediately. “I was staying with a friend of mine. Someone important, someone who— someone who definitely expected to see me in that room, not someone else! Is he— would he be safe?” He was reaching over the table, tugging on Yeon’s sleeve, unable to stop himself, scared he’d never see Young-min again.
“Hey, hey— take it easy,” Yeon said in a calming voice, urging him to return to his seat. “Look, I won’t lie. I doubt my brother would be calm and collected. Hell, he probably started with accusations for all I know. But… he’d never kill a human, I’m sure.”
Seung-tak didn’t like the sound of that. The mere fact Yeon had clarified that he’d not hurt humans could only mean he had a tendency to in the past. His doppelganger sounded rough and violent. Young-min wasn’t in safe hands, adding to Seung-tak’s reasoning that he had to get home as soon as possible, before anything bad could happen.
Then a chime echoed throughout the room. A rhythmic jingle, snapping Seung-tak out of his fear for the moment, and back to the present.
“What’s that?” He asked, not wishing to deal with further company, if he could avoid it.
“Ah. Food. Ordered it on the way home.” Yeon went to the door, returning a moment later. He placed the bags of hot food in the centre of the table, extracting the cutlery and contents as he took a seat once more. “I hope you’re hungry. Didn’t know what to get so I bought a little of everything.”
Seung-tak regrettably sat back down. He couldn’t keep fearing for the worst. Young-min could look after himself. He’d figure out something was wrong, and hopefully, not assume that his lookalike was in fact him, and conclude that it was a different man entirely.
Seung-tak felt his stomach growl. He’d only now realised just how hungry he was. “Thank you. I could use a good meal after such a tiring day,” he said, trying his best to be cheerful, opening the nearest container, mouth watering as the sight and scent hit his senses.
“I’d have offered to cook, but all I can make is rice, and I always burn it, so…” Yeon smiled, digging into his noodles. “Maybe next time.”
“That’s okay, anything’s good.” Seung-tak could hardly concentrate, trying his best to keep his composure as he ate. All he could think of was Young-min’s wellbeing. How could he sit here comfortably and enjoy himself when the man he cared for could be in danger?
Yeon could sense it, too. “Look,” he started, placing down his utensils. “I know you’re concerned, but trust me, Rang’s not an idiot, he’ll realise something’s not right. He’ll come to trust your friends or go out and find more of our kin. Either way, your friends will be safe.”
“I don’t think that’ll be the case.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you said you’re a gumiho, right?”
“Yes. So is my brother.” Yeon blinked. “Why do you ask?”
“Before today, I’d never heard that word— gumiho—” Seung-tak admitted. “And I’ve never seen supernatural beings, gumiho or otherwise. So there’s a chance that—”
“—that Rang is by himself in your world, in terms of gumiho.” Yeon finished his sentence. “That… could leave him with few options, in that case. Strange to imagine a world without demons. Sounds rather relaxing, if I say so myself.”
The two of them exchanged another glance before falling silent, digging into the food that remained for the time being. Seung-tak had been through such a rough day, that he’d become physically and emotionally exhausted. Food was the highlight so far, and after this, he looked forward to a long rest, but knew it would be a restless one if anything.
Taking another mouthful of tteokbokki, Seung-tak couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting up to the man before him. It wasn’t often that he’d seen someone with such brightly coloured hair. Considering his ears and tails, it made sense, but to most other humans, it would be an interesting sight to see. Admittedly though, it wasn’t only his hair, it was everything— he clearly had a unique sense of fashion, and if Seung-tak was entirely honest with himself, he was quite handsome as well.
A fire lit beneath his skin, reddening his cheeks, and Seung-tak blamed the cause on his food, and not how smitten he was by this kind-hearted being. It seemed so odd to him that the fox-man’s brother was identical to himself, after all, how could someone who looked exactly like him be related to someone this handsome?
Of all the crazy things he’d seen today, that was perhaps one of the most difficult truths to accept.
Seung-tak had become so engrossed in his meal and his loud, intrusive thoughts that he’d not realised he was now sitting alone. He’d stared up from his meal again, blinking as he searched the room, finding it eerily quiet. Before he had a chance to question it, or rise from his seat, Yeon had appeared behind him, tapping him on the shoulder, and gesturing at the door on the other side of the room.
“I’ve set up the spare bedroom with everything you need, but do let me know if there’s anything else. I’m not one for hosting or hospitality, and it has been…” His words trailed off, and Seung-tak could have sworn he saw a sad longing in his eyes. “It’s been a long while since I’d last spent time around humans. I have a tendency to forget what might be rather obvious to you.”
Seung-tak bowed his head in thanks, not used to being treated so kindly. “That’s more than enough, thank you,” he said, eyeing the fox-man carefully.
Yeon merely smiled in response, heading back towards the front door. He stopped by the coat-rack, pulling on one of the jackets and taking a bright red umbrella under his arm, which Seung-tak thought rather odd considering how clear the weather was.
“I’ll be leaving for a while. Some loose ends to tie up. You’ll be safe here in my absence,” Yeon said, turning back to his guest. “Don’t leave without me in the meantime, there’s no telling what other sinister beings may be at play. I’ll see if I can find any more information regarding your predicament. Don’t wait up for me, alright?”
With that said, he’d turned and left before Seung-tak had a chance to respond, standing at the table with a half-empty, lukewarm bowl of food. Silence fell upon the room, and he suddenly had no clue what to do with himself. Now was an ideal time to snoop around, to see what more he could learn of his newfound host, but honestly— Seung-tak just wanted to sleep, to dream, and hope that somehow, he’d wake up again in his own bed tomorrow morning.
He made his way to the offered bedroom, finding little inside, except for a well-made futon, which was precisely what Seung-tak craved. Without a change of clothes, he pulled just his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side before collapsing upon the bedding and melting into the offered comfort.
Closing his eyes, Seung-tak thought once more of Young-min, hoping with all his heart that he was safe, and that it wouldn’t be long before they would see each other again.
Rang was becoming more irritated the longer he spent here.
The problem was, it would seem, was that Rang had no clue where here even was. This was Korea, no doubt about it. He understood the language, and recognised the dialect. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, and yet, that was the problem. No matter where Rang walked, he couldn’t confidently identify where he was. It was as if he was at home, but not quite. There were things missing, things in the wrong place, and most strangely of all, things missing from where they should be in their entirety.
Perhaps he should head back to the place he woke up, and torture information out of that strange human who was with him. It must be his doing, what other explanation could there be? Rang hummed, stopping in his tracks. He replayed the morning’s events, recalling how confused that man had seemed, as if he didn’t expect to see Rang either. He began to feel that he was just as surprised by Rang’s presence as he was.
There was a chance this was a simple mistake, and Rang had gone out last night for far too long with far too many drinks. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d blacked out and woke up in a stranger’s bed. But that’s not what it felt like, not in the slightest. There was an odd feeling, something out of place, lingering over him. Rang hated to admit it, but he wished his brother was here right now. A familiar face would be comforting, but of course, he was nowhere to be found when Rang needed him, to no surprise.
And so Rang closed his eyes, focusing on the scents around him. He was surrounded by humans for miles, and nothing more. No demons. No spirits. Not even a single ghost. Opening his eyes, he couldn’t shake the sense of impending doom building in his chest. There were many possibilities to explain what was happening to him, but to most, he hoped he was wrong.
There was a chance he was dead, currently living in an instance of limbo, or he’d been thrown into some sort of cursed object, confined to a completely different world. Thinking clearly wasn’t currently an option. He’d never considered himself the intelligent type; he was made for adventure and conflict. He hated being thrown off-balance like this, and he was itching for a fight— for any reason to relieve the anger and stress from his chest and soak his fists in blood.
As if hearing his desires, a situation arose to his liking.
There was much he hated about humans. He’d be here all day if he had to list off every single reason why they were such disgusting, wretched creatures. The moment he heard an animal in pain, Rang’s ears perked up, and his hair stood on end. He clenched his fists, peering down a nearby alleyway, concentrating on the sounds of laughter and insults hurled towards an innocent creature.
Rang could hardly see straight. He was no longer thinking. All he wanted was his fists to connect with flesh, and to stare into the eyes of humans as they cowered before his presence. None would stand a chance in a fight, especially if no other demons were nearby. It was almost too easy.
Someone was shouting behind him, but Rang paid it no mind. He’d found the source of the pain; a pathetic group of thugs that would be cowering before him shortly. They didn’t back down, walking towards him, circling around him, and so Rang threw the first punch—
But it connected to something else.
A hand caught his fist. Someone was beside him. Rang hadn’t even noticed them through the haze of his anger. Standing in place, his eyes shifted, and there he was; meeting the gaze of the stranger he’d met this morning, who was no longer in the bound state Rang had left him in.
“Seung-tak-ah,” the man said. “We need to talk.”