[exo] the distance in between 2/3

[hyperlydian]

previous

✴

Even though the air in Never Land is lighter than in Chen’s world, Lu Han is beginning to find it stifling.

Kyungsoo is there still, flying out to Skull Rock with Chanyeol or watching from the shore of Pirate’s Cove as Chanyeol teases Captain Hook on his ship further out in the water.

In an attempt to gain a smile, Chanyeol starts bringing Kyungsoo flowers from around the island, rare ones from up near the Indian Camp and from the Mermaid’s Lagoon, where the girls keep them to decorate their hair.

He’s hardly seen Chanyeol lately, and Lu Han knows that if it weren’t for Chen knowing and believing him in, he would be fading away into nothing. The fact that Chanyeol would let that happen makes Lu Han sick to his stomach, heavy insides wrenching with betrayal more and more with every smile Chanyeol gives to Kyungsoo instead of him.

Lu Han hears Kyungsoo and Chanyeol talking one evening as he makes his way back to his hollow. Chanyeol’s brought him a whole bouquet of primary colors this time, flowers from all over the island that he must have painstakingly collected. Kyungsoo doesn’t seem very impressed.

He looks down at the flowers and then up at Chanyeol’s grinning face. “I’m not going to kiss you in gratitude or something.”

Chanyeol’s eyes go uneven as he wrinkles his nose. “Kiss?”

“Yeah, you know, when adults put their mouths together and stuff because they love each other.”

Chanyeol thinks on this for a moment while Kyungsoo picks at the petals, studying them carefully. From where he’s lurking, Lu Han thinks he can see a slight smile on Kyungsoo’s face, like he’s really pleased by Chanyeol’s bouquet, but keeping it hidden from Chanyeol’s view.

Too quickly for Kyungsoo to protest, Chanyeol ducks down and pecks Kyungsoo on the lips. Kyungsoo squawks, jerking his head back so fast he almost loses his balance. His arms pinwheel as he tries to right himself, bouquet flopping in his grasp, and Chanyeol catches him by the shoulders, laughing.

“You can’t just kiss people!” Kyungsoo shouts, punching Chanyeol hard in the stomach with his free hand. Chanyeol doubles over with a pained oof! and Kyungsoo smacks him on the head with the bouquet, petals fluttering around haphazardly.

Chanyeol straightens, still clutching his stomach. There are some petals in his hair, and his face is pouty. “I just wanted to try it,” he whines. “You said people who love each other do it, so…”

Eyebrows flying up towards his hairline, Kyungsoo studies Chanyeol thoughtfully. “Well if you’re going to try kissing, you should do it right. You almost split my lip.”

Chanyeol nods earnestly, as though he doesn’t believe his luck and Kyungsoo tilts his head up. “Well come on,” he says, closing his eyes. He sounds stern, but his cheeks look a little pink. “I don’t have all day.”

Lips already puckered up, Chanyeol leans down and - Lu Han can’t make himself watch anymore. Jealousy is eating away at him, and he darts off into the trees, trying to get as far away as he can.

He’d come to accept that he was just a friend, nothing more than a sidekick to Chanyeol a lot time ago, but that doesn’t stop the prickling behind his eyes. The few tears that escape down his cheeks dry quickly in the wind as Lu Han flies toward the low-hanging cloud near the center of the island.

Lu Han doesn’t want to be here, he needs to get away.

Lu Han wants to leave so badly that he forgets to take a deep breath before flying into the smudge, the crushing feeling and too many missed breaths so painful that he almost drops out of the air when he comes out the other side.

With frantically beating wings, he manages to steady himself, gulping down lungfuls of air as he looks around.

The croaking of the toads is much louder at night, along with the noise of the crickets, and the lights of the town illuminate the sky with a warm glow.

Chen’s house is dark and the air cold against the bare skin of Lu Han’s chest as he flies down to the window. It’s open wider than usual, half the window swinging slightly, like it’s only recently been opened, which is kind of strange because everyone inside seems asleep.

“Help!”

Lu Han thinks he hears a small voice amid the chorus of crickets out near the stream and twists in the air, trying to hear better.

“Someone hel- “ Definitely a voice cut off by a high yelp that’s familiar to Lu Han. His heart jumps thumps in his ribcage. Chen.

Sparks exploding off of him in alarm, Lu Han dives into action. The shouts had sounded like they were coming from over by the stream and Lu Han flies over, eyes squinting in the darkness for any sign of Chen.

There’s a rustling in the tall grass on the opposite bank and the noise of a struggle.

“Get off of me, you wart-infested monster- “ Definitely Chen.

Unfortunately, Lu Han’s glow makes him a beacon in the dark, so he makes his way across the water as quietly as he can. If he’s careful, he might be able to use his light and the element of surprise to his advantage.

Peeking between the blades of grass, Lu Han can see two dim shapes, one tiny and one bloated and huge, scuffling together in the dirt.

The big one, obviously not Chen, lets out a loud croak of triumph once it has Chen pinned with its lumpy body. Underneath, Chen is still struggling, letting out muffled angry grunts. Lu Han uses the distraction to burst through the grasses and throws himself at Chen’s attacker in an attempt to push him away. The sudden explosion of light startles it into inaction, giving Lu Han a clear shot, and it’s round body goes rolling from the impact.

Lu Han can see now by his own light, sparks still igniting and fizzling out frantically around him, that it’s a toad. It flails, legs and webbed toes grasping for purchase as it tries righting itself. It’s bulk is at least four times the size of either Lu Han or Chen, and Lu Han is just lucky he had enough momentum to move it at all.

Heart still beating wildly, Lu Han lowers himself until he’s kneeling on the ground next to Chen. He’s covered in dirt and gasping for breath, but otherwise unharmed, eyes wide as he stares up at Lu Han.

“What are you doing here?” he breathes, trying to wipe his hair out of his eyes and smudging some dirt across his forehead instead.

Lu Han opens his mouth to reply, forgetting again, just for a moment, but then-

“A fairy!” the toad croaks, having gotten itself upright again.

Lu Han watches as its throat swells furiously and lifts himself up into the air again, moving protectively in front of Chen.

The irises of the toads eyes are yellow, glittering with Lu Han’s sparks. It leans forward, spindly fingers shuffling the rocks around it. It picks one up, only to put it down again and take hold of another. “You won’t be stopping me,” the toad says, and Lu Han thinks that if toads had teeth, this one would have its bared. It turns the biggest stone over in its fingers menacingly. “Not when the timing is so perfect for my plan. Not now that I’ve got him in my grasp.”

Lu Han defiantly crosses his arms, because the only way the toad is getting to Chen is through him. The toad seems to realize this too, hind legs coiling up as it takes a huge leap over Lu Hans head.

“Not today, fairy,” it rasps from behind Lu Han.

Alarmed, Lu Han hears Chen yelp again. Before he can turn to fight the toad off, something hard, like a stone, hits the back of his skull and Lu Han’s vision goes black.

✴

The light shining through Lu Han’s eyelids hurts. His head is throbbing at him painfully and he hisses when he reaches toward the back of his head, the apex of the pain.

Lu Han tries to remember what happened as he works up the courage to open his eyes and face the light. He’d gotten hit in the head with something, probably a rock? And there was something huge, with beady eyes. A toad. And something small and noisy, something like-

Lu Han’s eyes pop open. Chen. He immediately regrets it when the dawn light sends pain zinging from his eyeballs into his brain. Lu Han curls into himself, bells ringing mournfully about his aching head as it throbs.

It’s obviously morning now, the sun just beginning to appear over the horizon. Chen and his toad kidnapper must be long gone by now. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to dull the disappointment in himself. Who knows what that toad has planned for Chen, or where it’s taken him?

“Oh dear,” a woman’s voice says from above him. For a moment, Lu Han thinks it might be Chen’s mother, who must be worried sick, but when he opens his eyes, he sees an older woman, white hair frizzy about her face and a heavy traveling cloak hanging from her shoulders.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she says, looking down at where Lu Han is curled up in the grass. Instead of being upset with him, she sounds curious, almost amused. “This isn’t your story. How did you get here?” She looks around at the stream and the forest beyond and mutters, “That magic rain must have been stronger than I thought.”

Lu Han chimes anxiously up at her, wishing he could explain about the smudge.

“It must be hard not being able to speak, a bright little pixie like you,” she observes shrewdly. Despite the pain in his head, Lu Han is pleased not to be called a fairy again, and lets out a jingle of assent.

“A pixie is what happens when a wish made on a falling star comes true, you know. A fulfilled wish carries a lot of magic,” she says. “I’m a witch, so I know a thing or two about magic, and you carry a lot of magic in you too.”

Lu Han sighs and waves at sparks that surround him derisively. Sparkles like this are hardly great magic. They definitely didn’t stop him from getting knocked out.

The witch smiles at him, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes her weathered face look almost pretty. “Magic of the heart. That’s what you give people that helps them fly.”

He’s never thought of it like that, associating flight more with Chanyeol’s saying of faith, trust, and pixie dust!. The starry-eye look people got after their first sprinkle of pixie dust suddenly makes sense.

“Of course, it won’t work like that here, not without your island’s magic to help. The fairies are in charge around here and a facefull of pixie dust will just make people a bit dazed, at most.” Lowering a hand, she opens her palm for Lu Han to crawl onto. Once he’s clambered on, she lifts him up to eye level and looks Lu Han over. “You earned those wings, didn’t you?” Lu Han nods, fluttering them self-consciously against his back. “It must have been a very selfless deed you did to get such a lovely pair.”

Lu Han isn’t sure about selfless. The way he’d earned his wings was practically an accident, but they’re a part of him now, one he can’t imagine life without.

“What would you say, little pixie,” the witch says, “if I told you I could give you a voice?”

Lu Han’s breath catches as what she’s said sinks in and his heart leaps. All the words he’s never had a chance to say coiled up in that lump in his throat. Things he’s never been able to tell Chanyeol, things he would give anything to say aloud.

Lu Han looks up at her, his heart probably clear in his eyes.

With a nod, she says, “All right, then."

The witch begins searching through the folds in her coat with her empty hand and pulls out a tiny bottle. It’s small enough for Lu Han to hold, like she’d been planning on running into him all along. She gives it to him, and at his questioning look, explains, “Drink it. It’s a tonic of dandelions and parrot's blood and the chirping of crickets and such things. That’ll do the trick." Lu Han opens the bottle. The liquid inside is blue, almost neon. “Just remember, magic like this comes at a cost.”

Lu Han can’t think of any cost he wouldn’t be willing to pay in exchange for the chance to have a voice. He’s sure.

He tips the tonic back, letting the liquid slide down his throat. It’s too viscous for him to be able to breath as it oozes down his throat, completely tasteless. His throat burns as he swallows, like fire or a thousand knives gouging into flesh, and once it's all swallowed, he gasps in a breath, coughing so hard his stomach hurts.

“The effect of the tonic will become permanent in three day’s time, which is when I will take full possession of my payment.” She’s smiling again, but instead of thinking she might be pretty, Lu Han suddenly thinks there’s something terrible in the look, a smugness that sends a chill up his spine. “I think I’ll take that pair of wings, “ she says. “They should cover the cost of a voice well enough.”

Lu Han tries to let out an angry clamor of bells, a raspy “what?” coming out of his mouth instead. His hands clutch at his throat. The pain is still there, tearing through him as the air scrapes up and down his throat with each breath.

The agony of the tonic plus the still lingering pain at the back of his skull leaves him incapacitated, and Lu Han’s mind is reeling.

It worked. He can talk.

The witch tuts at him. “I told you there would be a cost. You’re able to speak, which is what you’ve always wanted, and if you’re lucky, you haven’t had the wings for too long and you’ll still be able to fly.”

Lu Han has had his wings for so long that back in Never Land, a place where time never truly passes, it seems like forever. His heart sinks with despair.

She sets him back down on the grass, wiping her hands on her skirt.

“I’d better be off before there’s too much daylight,” the witch says. “The spinster in the house beyond owes me a debt for giving her a son, but magic is feared in these parts.”

Lu Han curls up around himself tightly, shoulders shuddering from the ache in his throat and stomach. How could he be so stupid? What else would a witch possibly want from him besides the magic of his wings?

“Cheer up now, little pixie. There’s more wings where these came from.” The witch seems to think about something, weighing the options seriously before adding, “The toad probably took your friend to his home in the swamp. You have enough time to get there with the wings you have now. Perhaps saving him would be selfless enough to earn another pair.”

Lu Han doesn’t move, in too much pain and too devastated to watch the witch as she makes her way through the tall grasses and disappears.

✴

The swamp the witch mentioned is up the stream. Once Lu Han manages to gather himself, it doesn’t take more than a few hours for him to fly along the edge of the water. The trees thicken on either side, blocking out the sunlight until it’s dim enough for Lu Han to stop squinting through his headache.

His throat still feels scorched, each swallow raw as it goes down. Lu Han’s tried to hum a few things as he flies, songs he’s heard Chen sing, and no bell sounds had come out, only the normal sound of a human voice.

Lu Han feels all tangled up inside, the elation at finally having something he’s always wished for buoying him up while the misery of what he had traded weighs him down. He’s so wrapped up in everything, feeling every beat of his wings and wondering how many he has left, that he barely watches where he’s flying.

Gradually the smell of the air begins to change to something staler, more humid than the seaside breezes. In front of Lu Han, the flow of the river slows as the water spreads out between the trees in swampy pools. There’s the scent of rotting wood just on the edge of Lu Han’s nose, more pungent than anything he’s ever smelled in Never Land, and he knows he’s found the swamp.

The light filters down through the trees overhead, muting all the colors to yellows, browns and greens, and making all the edges look fuzzy. There’s a stillness about this swamp that Lu Han finds unsettling, flying from tree to tree and looking down at the murky water anxiously. He hopes Chen is somewhere dry and not stuck in the mud.

It’s easy to hear a racket being made up by one of the few solid-looking banks, someone’s loud voice cutting through the heavy silence of the swamp. Lu Han flies toward the noise, remembering the night before by the stream. He would probably recognize Chen’s voice anywhere.

Sure enough, there’s the big body of the toad, skin a molted green in daylight, on the muddy bank. Lu Han can hear Chen from where he must be hidden behind a rock outcropping. Beyond the muddy bank is a grouping of trees, their tangle of roots and a couple more rocks like a wall behind where Chen and the toad are. Lu Han circles around so that he can peek around the trunk of one of the trees and remain out of sight.

“Look,” Chen is saying from where he’s seated on the ground, “I’m not going to be your- your bride or whatever you want from me.” His hands are tied behind his back with some rushes- his ankles as well, Lu Han sees as Chen shifts uncomfortably. “Human-toad marriages definitely aren’t legal, even if I am just a miniature one, and there’s no way I’m going to be kissing your warty face, so you can just forget it.” Lu Han can imagine the grimace on Chen’s face clearly when he says, “Lets face it: you’re no frog prince.”

“Soon I’ll be much more than a frog prince,” the toad says with a low croak. Its beady yellow eyes are more frightening in the daylight. “You’re going to help me become a toad king. I’ll no longer repulse people because I’ll be able to make everyone love me.”

“You’re crazy,” Chen says.

The toad hops to the edge of the bank, turning its back on Chen, and Chen takes the opportunity to begin struggling against his bonds in earnest.

“I know I seem like I would make the perfect housewife, but I already said I won’t marry you.” Chen flops onto his stomach accidentally as he struggles, and ends up with a mouthful of dirt that he has to spit out before continuing. “And I seriously doubt you could get a priest out in this swamp, so you might as well give this dream of yours up.”

The toad’s throat swells again, and it lets out a loud croak as it launches itself in the water, swimming away into the swamp.

“You better not bring back any flies for me to eat or something!” Chen shouts after it.

Lu Han waits until the ripples left by the toad have disappeared before flying out from behind the trees to go help Chen.

“You again? What happened to you last night?” Chen asks when he catches sight of Lu Han, but the blase effect is ruined by his mud-smeared face and the relieved slump of his shoulders.

Lu Han shrugs, not wanting to go into detail about how he almost got brained by a toad, and begins tugging at the knots, trying to free Chen. After all Chen’s efforts, the rushes tying his wrists come free fairly easily, and Chen rubs at the marks gratefully as Lu Han moves on to the ones around his ankles.

These are much tighter, Lu Han’s fingertips beginning to hurt as he tries to untangle the grass. “He had to tie my feet after I tried to kick him in the air sack,” Chen says, sounding a tiny bit smug. “I don’t even know how he managed to knot it with his toady fingers but it’s way too tight. I can’t feel my feet.”

At last, Lu Han manages to undo the last loop, the rushes falling away. Chen sighs with relief, reaching down to rub at his ankles.

“It was nice of you to come save me. Sir Romeo has really tried his best to sweep me off my feet, but I think I’m going to pass.” He hisses. “Uh, pins and needles.”

“That’s too bad,” a low croak comes from behind Lu Han, making both he and Chen jump and the air is littered with sparks. The toad crawls back up onto the bank, eyeing Lu Han. “You’re not a fairy. You’re a pixie, aren’t you?” The toad says “pixie” like the idea is particularly disgusting, and Lu Han, who would ordinarily be glad to be recognized for what he is, is offended.

“Yeah, he really hates being called a fairy, actually,” Chen says as Lu Han puffs himself up angrily.

Because of their size difference, Lu Han really isn’t a match for the toad in a face off like this. Lu Han thinks of what the witch said about his pixie dust. It might only gain he and Chen a few seconds head start, but that’s better than nothing.

Quickly formulating a plan, he tugs Chen up on his feet by the hand, letting go as he stumbles back against the rock for support. Then he lifts himself straight up in the air, high enough that he passes some of the trees’ branches, before dive-bombing back down, heading straight for the toad.

The toad, probably thinking Lu Han is on a collision course like the night before, swells so that it’s bigger, glittering eyes watching Lu Han challengingly. Just before impact, Lu Han pushes out his arms, releasing the biggest cloud of sparks he’s ever managed, and while he veers off-course, the sparks hit the toad right in the face.

It lets out several agonized croaks, but Lu Han is already back at Chen’s side, trying to help him climb the maze of tree roots so they can get to the other side of the swampy island.

Chen’s legs wobble unsteadily. “My feet are still kind of asleep,” he whines as Lu Han uses his wings to tug Chen up the hard parts. Below, the toad is still reeling from the pixie dust attack. He’s watching them climb, hoping dizzily toward the bottom of the tree roots.

When they finally reach the top, the toad has begun to hop up behind them, and from where he’s perched on the point of a rock, Chen looks over the edge.

There’s no way down, only a sharp drop to a fuzzy patch of ground. Chen groans. “This gives an unexpectedly literal meaning to being stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

Lu Han stares at the fuzzy patch. It’s a slightly different shade of brown than the ground around it, messier and less muddy, like it’s been rubbed dry. It looks kind of… smudgy.

The toad is almost on them, just a few jumps from the top of the roots, and Lu Han grabs Chen’s hand, tugging at his arm.

“No way,” Chen says, shaking his head frantically. “I will not become a Chen pancake just because you can fly and I can’t.”

Lu Han tugs harder, making Chen let out a screech as he teeters on the edge of the rock, and the toad hops up behind Chen with murder in its eyes.

“Jump!” Lu Han yells, giving Chen’s arm one last herculean pull.

Just in time, Chen tips over edge. Still gripping his hand, Lu Han relaxes his wings, and lets them both fall right into the ground.

✴

For a moment, Lu Han almost thinks the crushing feeling is from crashing into the dirt, but then the color drains away, everything gray and suffocating. There’s too many missed breaths and Lu Han’s heart beating at his ribs, Chen’s hand clutched in his own-

And then they land hard on some ground that is definitely no longer part of a swamp.

Lu Han sits up, rubbing at the sore spot on the back of his head that’s started throbbing again, probably from their trip through the smudge. He looks around at the forest they’ve ended up in, a much brighter and happier place than the swamp, and listens to Chen sputter beside him.

“Where are we?” he wheezes. Then he looks down at their joined hands. “Did you just try to kill me by throwing me off a cliff??”

Lu Han shrugs and lets go of Chen’s hand, because the answer to that is both sort of, and also not at all.

“Wait,” Chen freezes in the middle of pushing himself to his feet, eyes going wide. “You can talk?”

Lu Han wondered how Chen was going to take it. “I guess?”

They’re both standing up and looking around, Chen’s mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of what to say, when a dark shape pops into existence beside them. The toad looks just as surprised to see them as they are to see it. It’s throat pouch pulses dangerously. Chen and Lu Han look at each other, and then back at the toad, who is watching them with beady eyes. After a few seconds, it lets out a loud croak, and though that was a signal, Lu Han and Chen bolt off running into the woods as fast as they can.

Lu Han could probably get away faster if he flew, but that would mean leaving Chen behind. They both stumble over the grass as it tangles around their ankles, Chen’s trousers flapping around his calves and making him grunt in annoyance .

“This is so unfair,” Chen whines as they swerve around a huge clump of thorny bushes. “Can’t you just use your wings carry me?”

Lu Han chances a look over his shoulder, beyond the faint trail of sparks that flare and go out in his wake. The toad is definitely following them, but its hops are slow enough that it must still be in a daze from the faceful of pixie dust he’d gotten on the other side of the smudge.

“Too heavy,” Lu Han says, throat burning from running and from the residual effects of the voice tonic. He whips his head back around just in time to avoid colliding with a large rock and uses his wings to get enough height to jump over it.

“I’m not that heavy!” Chen says as Lu Han’s feet find the grass again. “And could you talk the whole time or- “

Behind them, the toad lets out a croak that’s loud enough to echo around the forest. It startles Chen so much that he stumbles, Lu Han only just catching his hand and keeping him from falling flat on his face.

“I’ll explain later,” Lu Han pants, dragging Chen along, “Just- run!”

Chen groans, but he steadies himself so that he’s no longer being pulled, their clasped hands swinging loosely between them as they run.

Up ahead, there’s another clump of bushes, the brambles tangled in a maze of thorns and red berries, hidden among the leaves. Lu Han tugs at Chen, pointing to small gap in the thorns, just wide enough for them to sneak through and hide.

Chen ducks through first, a couple of the thorns grabbing hold of his shirt and tearing it. Shuddering, Lu Han pulls his wings as close to his body as he can manage as he slips through the gap. He ends up nicking his arm and back instead, the pain stinging as he and Chen scoot as far back into the darkness of the bushes as they can manage.

Inside the brambles, the foliage is thick enough to block out most of the light, keeping them hidden. Lu Han’s heart rate still skyrockets when he sees the toad hop around a tree, hot on their trail. When it comes even with the bush, Lu Han shrinks back into Chen, trying to hide his natural glow, not daring to breathe until the toad’s molted green body is out of sight.

He and Chen stay huddled in the bushes for a long time, just to be sure the toad is gone. Chen’s panting becomes more and more relieved as it whooshes past Lu Han’s neck and Lu Han eventually lets himself go limp, completely and utterly exhausted.

✴

The air of this forest is warm, with a savory smell, like when hot sun shines down on ripe grass. Lu Han breathes it in deeply when he and Chen finally climb out of their hiding place, stretching out the tightness in his limbs and looking around at the muted yellow light that seems to illuminate everything.

“That was a close one,” Chen says. “Where are we?”

Lu Han shakes his head, because the smudge could have taken them anywhere, and he’s definitely never seen this place before.

“It’s probably better if we get out of this forest.” Chen cranes his neck, looking around for any trace of the toad. “You should put those wings to good use and figure out which way will get us out of these trees.”

He points up at the canopy of leaves, and Lu Han nods, lifting off the ground and heading towards the tops of the trees. The cut on his arm from the thorn stings as he pushes through the leaves, and he blinks when he makes it through, almost blinded by the undiluted sunlight.

Where he and Chen came from, there’s nothing but trees, the leafy tops swaying in the wind, but ahead of them, the forest only extends a bit further before it trails off into flat fields.

“Not much further that way,” Lu Han says when he lands again, pointing.

Chen nods, scrubbing at a patch of the swamp mud that’s caked on his cheek. He’s not making much headway and Lu Han reaches over to help, rubbing with his thumb until the spot is gone. When Chen catches his eye, he looks curious.

“So…your voice?”

Lu Han takes his hand back, rubbing his thumb clean on the cloth fastened around his waist. “It’s new,” he says, still not used to how he sounds speaking aloud. “I met a witch when I was coming to find you, and she gave it to me.”

Chen is surprisingly quiet as they start walking toward the edge of the forest, face thoughtful. Now that they’re not trying to run through it, the grass is pleasantly soft under Lu Han’s feet, the ground almost springy.

After a long time, Chen asks, “What’d you trade for it?”

They’ve been making their way up a small incline for awhile now, and Lu Han is panting some with the effort. “Huh?”

“Everyone knows witches don’t just give magic away for nothing. So what did you give her?”

Lu Han’s stomach clenches as he thinks of what had happened behind Chen’s house the night before, of how stupid he’d been. He opens his mouth, not quite sure how to tell Chen without getting more upset with himself.

Quite suddenly, they reach the crest of the hill and the end of the trees. Beyond, theres a well-kept farmhouse nestled behind a windbreak of pine trees and the farmland Lu Han had seen extending down a slight slope, giving them a good view of the plain.

In the vegetable garden of the farmhouse, among the pumpkin vines and tomato plants, there is a huge green trunk that extends up, up, up all the way until it disappears into the clouds.

They both slow to a stop, staring at it, and Chen asks, “You see that too, right?”

Lu Han nods slowly, tipping his head back all the way to follow the stalk up with his eyes. It’s huge, larger around than four of the forest trees put together, a dark, earthy green with a waxy finish that catches the sunlight as it filters down through the blanket of clouds.

As they make their way closer to the garden, the door of the farmhouse opens and a man walks outside. He’s very tall, the patchy stubble on his chin indicating he’s somewhere between a boy and an adult. Taking in a deep breath like Lu Han had earlier, he sweeps his eyes over the edge of the forest with the eye of someone who knows every inch of the land he’s surveying and catches sight of Lu Han and Chen immediately.

“Hey there,” he says, taking only a few long-legged steps to reach where they are. He crouches down to get a better look, the buckles of his overalls clinking. “Where did you guys come from?”

The man’s voice isn’t as deep as Chanyeol, who is the only other big male Lu Han knows, but he has the same kind eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles, and Lu Han relaxes at the familiarity.

Chen gestures to his muddy and torn clothes, and the scrapes on Lu Han’s arm. “I know we must look like dirty vagabonds, but we just had a nasty run-in with a swamp and a bramble bush.”

“A swamp?” The man blinks. “There aren’t any of those around here.”

“It’s a long story,” Chen says, waving a dismissive hand. “Anyway, the point is we’re not dangerous.”

The man snorts. “You’re like the size of my thumb. I wasn’t really worried.”

“Well, we could have been dangerous,” Chen pouts. “Maybe.”

“I’m glad you’re not.” He extends an absolutely enormous hand with one finger stuck out for them to shake. “I’m Yifan, and that over there is my family’s farm.”

“I’m Chen and this is- “ Chen looks over at Lu Han with suddenly wide eyes, and Lu Han takes pity on him.

He uses both hands to shake Yifan’s finger. “Lu Han. My name is Lu Han.”

Chen looks embarrassed that he’s only just learned Lu Han’s name, and he clears his throat and changes the subject.

“What kind of plant is that?” he asks, pointing at the huge stalk in the middle of the farmhouse garden.

Yifan looks over his shoulder. “Oh that. I can show you, if you like?”

“You’ll have to carry me,” Chen says, jerking his head in Lu Han’s direction. “Lucky Lu Han here can fly, but I’m stuck on two feet.”

Yifan carefully deposits Chen on his shoulder, Lu Han hovering in the air nearby. Up close, the stalk seems more immense, winding a little like a corkscrew, with shoots of leaves and baby stalks curled in tight tendrils every so often along it, almost like steps in a ladder.

Yifan looks up at the huge green stalk and scratches his head. “The other day, was taking one of our horses into town. We’re a little tight on money and I hoped I could sell him for enough to lighten the load. On the way, I met an old woman, a witch, who offered me a handful of magic beans for it instead and I…” Yifan looks over at Lu Han, expression almost bashful, as though he’s embarrassed by what he’s about to say. “People say a giant lives up above clouds with a goose that lays golden eggs, and the only way up there is to plant a magic bean in the ground.” He laughs self-deprecatingly. “I’d hoped it would grow into a big ladder or something, so I guess I sort of got my wish.”

Chen leans forward to get a better look at the stalk and then looks at the side of Yifan’s face skeptically. “You’re the biggest person I’ve ever seen. I refuse to believe there is someone you could call a giant.”

“It’s just a story,” Yifan says.

“But you believed in it enough to plant the magic beans,” Lu Han says, still looking at the way the stalk disappears when it reaches the low-hanging blanket of clouds. It’s a long way up, but Yifan could probably make the climb if he tried.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

There’s a loud rustling near the edge of the garden, the tops of the tomato plans shuddering ominously.

“A toad?” Yifan says, baffled, when he catches a glimpse of it through the plants. “We don’t have any toads around here either.”

“Seriously?” Chen practically shouts, stomping a bare foot on Yifan’s shoulder.

“A friend of yours?”

“Believe me, it’s not.”

“Run,” Lu Han says urgently as the rustles get closer, sparks bursting from him anxiously.

Chen shakes his head. “It’ll just follow us, we have to- “ His head whips around, staring at the giant green beanstalk. “Climb!”

“What?” Yifan shouts, the toad croaking angrily as it hops closer.

“Up!!” Chen shouts, poking Yifan’s neck insistently. “Go up!”

Grasping at the nearest handhold, Yifan steps up onto the first coil. “Why are we running from a toad?” he asks, grunting as he pulls himself up while his biceps flex under the sleeves of his shirt from the effort.

“He’s just, uh, kind of obsessed with marrying me as a bid for power. I think.”

“Marrying you?” Yifan sputters, almost missing the next handhold.

Lu Han flies a little higher, and looks back down just in time to see the toad take a giant leap onto the first coil of the beanstalk.

“Seriously??” Chen shouts in frustration from where he’s peering over Yifan’s shoulder at the toad, holding on to the strap of Yifan’s overall for safety. “It’s a long story, just go!”

The beanstalk really is a lot like a ladder, the twisting of it’s trunk and regular shoots of leaves making it much easier for Yifan to climb. By the time they’re high enough that the roof of the farmhouse looks like a small stepping stone between the forest and the patchwork of fields, Yifan is having to stop every so often to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“Okay,” Chen says, finally righting himself on Yifan’s shoulder. “I think he’s gone but he’s green, this thing is green. There’s a lot of green here, so who knows. We thought we lost him before, but he’s one crafty toad.”

Yifan pauses, turning so he can lean his back against the trunk of the stalk while his feet rest firmly on one of the wider shoots of leaves. “We’re about halfway up, so I guess we might as well keep going. I’m not going to want to climb this thing again if we go back down.” He attempts to dry his hands on the legs of his overalls. “So that toad’s been following you?”

Chen launches into the story of his kidnapping, and Lu Han lands lightly on one of the tendrils near Yifan’s head, giving his wings a break while Yifan rests. The big heart-shaped leaves of the beanstalk wave lazily in the breeze as Chen talks about their escape from the toad in the swamp and how they’d fallen right through the ground, into the forest behind Yifan’s house.

Yifan takes it all in quietly before beginning to climb again. “So you were magically transported here from somewhere else?”

Chen taps his chin thoughtfully. “Uh, you could say that. I live in a town near the ocean.”

“And you?” Yifan glances up at where Lu Han is flying, just above his head.

Chen looks just as curious as Yifan, and Lu Han swallows. Talking to people about himself is more difficult than he’d ever imagined. “An island. I live on an island called Never Land.”

“I’ve lived on our farm my whole life. It’s been in my family for generations, but ever since my father died and my mother’s been sick, the debts have just been adding up faster than I can pay them off.” Yifan chances a glance down at the roof of his house, a little black paver in on the edge of the fields. “A solid gold egg would be more than enough to pay off all our debts.”

Yifan doesn’t seem the type to steal, but Lu Hun can understand someone not wanting to lose their home.

The beanstalk ends just above the blanket of clouds, leaves petering off as its trunk gets thinner and thinner, before it curls in on itself, just another tendril.

Yifan steps off the last foothold hesitantly, first testing the layer of clouds with just the tip of his boot before he stands on it with both feet. He lets out the breath he’d been holding when he doesn’t fall through, Chen craning his neck to get a better look while Lu Han floats nearby, taking in the scenery.

The clouds stretch out in all directions, like a field of grass covered in a thick layer of snow and a ways off, there’s a cottage built of stone. Beside it is a huge waterwheel turning slowly, pushed along by a stream of swiftly moving clouds, waterfalls of white fluff falling from partition to partition, and a fenced in barnyard.

The cottage truly huge, several times larger than Yifan’s own farmhouse or Chen’s home or any other house Lu Han has ever seen. It’s closer to the size of Hook’s pirate ship back in Never Land.

Chen says to Yifan faintly, “I believe you about the giant now.”

As Yifan walks closer to the cottage, Lu Han can see something wandering around inside the paddock, its white body almost indistinguishable from the bed of clouds underneath it.

Other than being oversized, the goose seems normal, feathers blending with the clouds around it. Then it moves, head swiveling around atop its long neck and it’s beak flashes in the sunlight. Several of the longer feathers on it’s wings glimmer at their tips.

Chen gapes. “Is that goose’s beak made out of gold?”

“The Golden Goose,” Yifan breathes. “It’s real.”

“So what are we thinking? Jail-breaking the goose?”

“I wonder where the giant is.” They all look around warily, but there’s nothing else around besides the cottage, the rolling clouds like hills in the distance.

Lu Han flies over to the window of the cottage as stealthily as possible to get a look through the window. Through the glass, the inside is a bit wibbly, but he can make out the huge shape of a man, the bottom half of his face covered with a beard. He’s reclined in a chair and the sound of his snores makes the windowpanes rattle with every inhale and exhale.

“He’s asleep,” Lu Han assures the other two back at the paddock.

Yifan is frowning up at the gate’s handle, which is more than twice his height. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to open that.”

“Oh!” Chen exclaims, “I can do that! I can open a huge door.”

“I’m sure Lu Han could just- ” Chen shakes his head, reaching out to grab ahold of the fence. Yifan looks on dubiously as Chen shimmies up the wooden post closest to the latch. “Uh, okay?”

“These stupid frilly sleeves,” Chen growls in frustration as he climbs. The fancy cuffs Chen’s mother attached to his shirt keep flopping over his hands, and when he reaches the top of the fence, Chen yanks at them each in turn, the seams tearing apart loudly as the frills come off. “Much better.”

The gate’s latch is made of lacquered black metal, a huge metal handle with a lever for the thumb holding it closed. Chen studies it, hands on his hips. “It looks kind of heavy…” he says, beginning to scoot within arms reach of the latch.

Lu Han flies up next to him. “I can help, if you want.”

The thumb lever is big enough that when Chen puts both his feet on it, his weight doesn’t even make it budge. He jumps, stomping his feet, but it only makes the metal of the latch jiggle and click against itself noisily.

Chen sighs in frustration and says to Lu Han, “Maybe if both of us stand on it?”

Lu Han nods, using his wings to lower himself so only the tips of his toes rest on the thumb lever at first. There’s really only enough room for them to stand flush with each other, their chests brushing. Chen’s brings his hands up to grip Lu Han’s shoulders, steadying him, and grins.

“I hope you’re planning on making an honest woman of me after this,” he says, eyes dancing with mirth. Lu Han can feel Chen’s breath on his cheeks, can see the way the corners of his mouth curl up up close for the first time.

Quite suddenly, Lu Han remembers that when he’d seen Chanyeol and Kyungsoo standing this close, they’d been about to kiss. His ears burn with embarrassment.

“You’ve already caused me enough trouble,” he mutters, lightly gripping Chen’s waist to keep from falling backwards. “Besides, you’re betrothed to the toad.”

There’s just enough time for Lu Han to catch the look on Chen’s face, mouth falling open in preparation to laugh at Lu Han’s joke, before he lets his full weight sink onto the thumb lever and the latch clicks open.

With their combined weight, the thumb lever slopes down as the gate unlocks, throwing them both off balance. Lu Han tries to use his wings to keep from toppling backwards, and only Lu Han’s grip on Chen’s waist keeps him from bowling them both over as he falls forward.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard Lu Han beats his wings, Chen is too heavy for him to carry and stay afloat. Together they tumble, the cloudy floor rushing up to meet them.

“I’ve got you!” Yifan yells. Foamy bits of cloud fly up around his body as he dives forward, managing to break their fall with his mammoth hands. A small mushroom cloud of Lu Han’s sparks goes up around them, mixing with the bits of cloud debris.

“I don’t think it would have hurt that much,” Chen says, as he and Lu Han untangle themselves. “The ground is made of clouds.”

“You’re welcome,” Yifan says sarcastically as he stands up, placing Chen back on his shoulder and brushing the bits of cloud off his overalls. Lu Han stands on the layer of clouds, shaking his head to clear it of the leftover sparks before taking off again.

Chen frowns at Yifan’s tone. “I’m just saying that- “

The rest of Chen’s sentence is drowned out by a honk and a loud hiss that comes from inside the paddock.

“Right,” Yifan says, staring through open gate at the goose with wide eyes. “So now we just have to get back down the beanstalk with the… giant… goose.”

“You really didn’t think this through, did you?” Chen says, and Lu Han kind of agrees.

“Well, I was planning on coming up here with some tools and stuff- “

The goose hisses again, showing the row of tiny, sharp teeth on the inside of its beak, cutting their bickering short as it studies them with its beady gold eyes.

Eventually, Lu Han and Yifan manage to corral the goose in a path back toward the beanstalk, Lu Han using his pixie dust, and Yifan waving his arms like a windmill.

Chen watches from the front pocket of Yifan’s overalls. “I can’t believe we’re herding a giant goose right now,” he says. “These are the kinds of things people don’t believe when you tell them afterwards.”

“You’re herding?” Yifan pants, flinching away from the goose as it snaps at him and hisses angrily when it misses. It’s almost the same height as Yifan and keeps trying to bite his face.

If possible, the goose seems less enthusiastic about trying to go down the beanstalk than it was about making it’s way away from the paddock.

“Maybe it’ll just fly down?” Chen muses as the goose angrily flaps its wings when Yifan and Lu Han try to guide it to the leafy top of the stalk.

“Maybe- “ Yifan starts to say, when the goose lets out an alarmed honk that echoes over the layer of clouds.

Flapping and hissing fiercely, the goose plows past them, heading back the way they came. In its place is a shining, golden egg that the goose must have laid out of shock, and the dark green body of one very familiar toad.

“This is getting ridiculous!” Chen shouts, waving his arms in frustration. “You’ve got to stop following me. How did you even get up here? You’re a toad.”

The toad is holding something long and white in between its webbed fingers. One of the goose’s feathers, tipped in gold. The goose must have been startled enough to run off after the toad plucked it.

Back near the paddock again, the goose is still honking histrionically and from inside the cottage, Lu Han hear something rumbling. All of them blanche, looking back toward the sound.

“You woke the giant up? That’s just great, toad,” Chen snaps, as they turn back around, but the toad is nowhere to be seen.

The angry noises from the cottage are getting progressively louder, the floor of clouds beginning to tremble from heavy footsteps.

“I think,” Yifan says, leaning down to scoop up the golden egg, “it’s time for us to make our escape.”

The climb back down the beanstalk seems faster than the one up. Lu Han wonders if it’s because this time there might be a giant following them. However, there’s still no sign of the giant when they reach the garden again, and Yifan tilts his head back to look up the stalk pensively. “Hopefully he’s realized his goose is still safe and won’t come down here, but I should probably chop this thing down.”

There’s no trace of the toad on the ground either when Lu Han does a quick aerial survey of the garden. The surrounding fields are thick with plants ready to harvest, with plenty of places for the toad to hide, so Lu Han gives it up as a lost cause.

“These smudgy spots you talked about,” Yifan says when he takes them into his kitchen to give them some food. He passes them each small bits of bread and cheese, and makes slices of apple thin enough to fit in their hands, like slices of watermelon. “I think I saw one when I was feeding the livestock this morning, if you wanted me to show you?”

The place on the wall of the barn is definitely a smudge, the red paint muddied and diluted, and Yifan sets Chen back on the ground so that he and Lu Han can go through it.

“Before you go, this is a thank you,” he says, digging deep into one of his pockets and holding something out. A bean.

Chen takes it with a cupped palm as Lu Han asks, “One of the magic ones?”

“My mom always tells me not to put all my eggs in one basket, and well,” Yifan pats his other pocket, where the golden egg is stowed, “I got what I needed because of you two. Maybe that bean can help you find your way home.”

“You know,” Chen says, stuffing the bean into his pants pocket so he can take Lu Han’s hand. His other hand is holding the bundle of food Yifan had wrapped up for them, just in case. “For a regular-sized person, you’re alright, Yifan.”

The sun is beginning its descent, the light taking on a late-afternoon glow, and Yifan smiles wide enough that his gums show. “You take care, Chen, Lu Han. Watch out for that toad.”

Lu Han is more prepared for the jump than last time, taking a deep breath as he waves goodbye to Yifan and Chen’s hand still hold tight to his as Yifan’s farm disappears, all the color fading to gray.

✴

“It’s going to be dark soon,” Lu Han says. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

The forest that the smudge had put them in is very different from the one behind Yifan’s house. The trees have bark so dark it’s almost black, and spindly, claw-like branches that cast ominous shadows over the clearing where he and Chen found the huge puddle of rain water. Though it’s not cold out, there’s a faint screen of mist floating between the trees. The whole atmosphere of the place is making Lu Han uneasy.

Chen rolls his eyes, dipping his toes into the puddle to check the temperature. “I’m so grimy I can hardly find my skin under all this dirt. I have to clean myself.” He strips off his tattered shirt, sticking his fingers through the tears from the thorns of the bramble bush and frowning. “You should get in here too. Those cuts of yours need to be cleaned.”

The skin Chen’s shirt had covered is much cleaner than the rest of him. Lu Han watches the movement of his shoulder blades cast shadows over the rest of Chen’s back as the last of the daylight filters through the trees. There’s a spot on Chen’s right shoulder, a little darker than the rest of his skin, that’s almost shaped like a star.

Chen reaches for the waist of his pants and Lu Han looks down at the scrape on his arm quickly. It’s right on the top of his forearm, an angry red against the golden glow of his skin. It’s already scabbed over, but it probably should still be cleaned.

There’s a whoop, and Lu Han looks up just in time to see a fully nude Chen running full-tilt into the puddle with a splash.

“Come onnnn,” Chen whines, once he’s out deep enough to paddle himself around. “The water’s really nice.”

Walking toward the edge of the puddle, Lu Han watches Chen dip his head under the water, trying to clean some of the dried mud out of his hair.

He sighs out a couple sparks when Chen comes up for air, splashing playfully, and reaches down to undo the cloth around his waist.

The water isn’t as cold as Lu Han thought, and it’s a relief after all the running around they’ve been doing. He rolls his shoulders, stretching out the muscles there as Chen swims in circles around him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Chen says. “For someone who just got a voice for the first time, you’re awfully quiet. I feel like I hardly know anything about you.”

Lu Han runs his fingers over the surface of the water, making tiny ripples on the glassy surface. He has the power to speak now, but it’s difficult to remember that he can voice his thoughts aloud. “I’ve never had anybody that wanted to hear what I had to say before you.”

“Their loss.” Chen flops back into the water, floating on his back and staring up at the open patch of sky above the meadow.

Lu Han bites his lip, teetering on the edge of something. “I traded my wings,” he says, before he can change his mind.

Chen raises his head up to look at Lu Han in surprise. “What?”

“You asked what my voice cost me, and that’s what the witch took.” Lu Han moves his wings against the water, feeling the weight of them on his back. “I earned them, so there was enough magic for a trade. I’m supposed to lose them in a few days.”

“That’s…wow.” Chen lets his head fall back into the water, drifting aimlessly as Lu Han swishes his hands through the water. “You earned them?”

It’s surprisingly easy to tell Chen about how he’d gotten his wings by saving Chanyeol from being drowned by a mermaid. Chen’s curiosity keeps him talking about his past, about Never Land, Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo, and why he’d run off that night.

“So this on this island, Never Land, no one ever grows up?” Chen hops as he pulls his underpants up one leg and then the other, and Lu Han averts his eyes, picking up his cloth from the ground.

“Chanyeol’s always been a kid, always the same.” They spent so long in the water that Lu Hans fingers have wrinkled, slipping as he tries to refasten the fabric.

“Kyungsoo’s not the first person Chanyeol’s brought to the island,” Lu Han says, remembering Jinri looking around curiously at all the boys of the island, blue nightdress billowing around her ankles. “There’s was a girl once, but she left and Chanyeol was… sad.” As sad as Chanyeol ever is, anyway, wandering listlessly about the island and refusing company for a few days. “Eventually, he forgot her. Nothing changes in Never Land. Chanyeol never wants to grow up, so he forgets things. But I can’t do that.”

Lu Han has so many memories of Chanyeol, their life and adventures together, but in the end, they’ve all been discarded so Chanyeol can keep the naive mind of a child. Lu Han isn’t sure how he could stay in Never Land much longer when Chanyeol has forgotten every moment that drew them together.

There are whole lifetimes between he and Chanyeol that Lu Han is the sole keeper of, and Lu Han’s heart is so tired.

He shakes his arms a little to help them air dry and hisses when he jars the scrape on his forearm, softened and tender from soaking in the water.

“You should bandage that up.” Chen grabs a handful of the ruffled collar of his shirt and tears it off, the sound of splitting fabric loud in the dusky clearing. Holding the strip of cloth up, he asks, “Want me to do it?”

“Sure.”

Lu Han sits cross-legged on the grass, holding out his injured arm, and Chen kneels beside him. “It’s lucky you glow so I can see what I’m doing,” he says, looping the makeshift bandage around Lu Han’s arm. Chen’s eyes flick up to Lu Han’s face quickly, and then back down again. “This Chanyeol… you like him, don’t you?”

Lu Han’s breath hitches. He’s never heard how he feels about Chanyeol out loud before, and that twisting in his chest, a sharp wound between the ribs, begins to ache again.

Chen nods, probably at the look on Lu Han’s face. “I can tell from the way you talk about him.”

His fingers are still damp from their swim, dragging against Lu Han’s skin, and his wet hair is dripping into his eyes. He pushes it back carelessly, giving Lu Han a better view of his intense concentration as he ties the end of the fabric into a neat knot.

Lu Han takes his arm back, cradling it against his chest. “It wouldn’t matter if I did.”

There aren’t any crickets in this wood, like there are in the one behind Chen’s home, nothing to fill the silence. Lu Han curls into himself, trying to make himself smaller under Chen’s eyes.

Finally, Chen lies back in the grass like he had in the puddle, looking up at the starry sky. “I stand by what I said,” he says, reaching out to tap Lu Han on the knee. Lu Han shivers. The water dripping down his neck from his wet hair is making him cold, but the place where Chen touched is warm. “It’s his loss.”

✴

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