Paper Crane
Title: aper Crane
Rating:
Pairings: unho/Jaejoong
Word Count: ,017
Summar In which jaejoong is an Imperfection and Yunho is a Magician.
A/N A birthday present fo mint_whispers. I haven't reread it, and it probably sucks but i really couldn't make anything else OTL happy bday girl ^^ //failed attempt of RomeoXJuliet lol
It’s raining, and yet the crane is completely dry; there is not a drop of water on its paper surface. Instead, it emits a soft white glow that shines in the darkness as it leads Jaejoong along the forest path. He doesn’t know where it’s taking him, but he feels like he has to follow it. He feels like it somehow, it has something to tell him. It leads him through the trees, using them to shelter him from the rain, and Jaejoong can only follow
The crane turns around and floats in the same place in the air for a while, as if it’s beckoning for Jaejoong to hurry up. He lets out a small smile and reaches out to the paper crane. His fingertips hover right above the surface of its creamy paper, and he dances around its contour. He doesn’t exactly touch it, only lingering above it instead, before-
Jaejoong wakes up sweating and his throat feels drier than a desert. He doesn’t exactly know why.
-----
Jaejoong shuffles his feet in the small puddles of rain on the ground, carelessly dangling his umbrella on his shoulder, and sticking his hand out to feel the droplets of cold rain on his fingertips. The sky is filled with gray clouds, and no matter how hard he looks, Jaejoong can’t find a single ray of sunshine anywhere. The rain just keeps on pouring down without any mercy.
Jaejoong sighs while he remembers his dream. He lets out a tiny chuckle realizing the irony of the rain, and the same trees that stood on the side of him as he stepped down the sidewalk. The trees look similar if not exactly identical to the ones in his dream. It could have been the same forest for all he knows.
When he walks into his art studio that gloomy gray morning, he is greeted cheerfully by the old man that always sits beside him, painting on some sort of canvas while he paints on his. He nods his head in response before seating himself down in front of the canvas he had set out for himself the night before, and starts getting his materials out.
Before he even notices it, the day is already almost half over and his blank canvas has been caked in layers of paint. Jaejoong’s eyes are clouded with a gloss cover of mist, and his hands lay limp by his side, as equally covered in paint as his canvas. He doesn’t snap out of his languorous daze until the old man’s voice is loud in his ears.
“That’s a wonderful painting you have there, young man. I wonder if my art skills will ever become as refined as yours. I wonder if I will even live long enough to make just one painting as beautiful as your simple sketches.” The man chuckles and Jaejoong can only let out a nervous laugh.
“Your art is so beautiful, honestly,” the man continues, “Every single one of your pieces-they draw me into a trance. It’s almost as if they’re magic; no seriously: I can’t even look away until I remember that my wife will skin me alive if I don’t get home soon,” He laughs and Jaejoong manages another small giggle. He smiles and thanks the man for his words, before the man starts fretting about getting home in time for lunch, and how his wife wanted to go out today. Jaejoong only smiles and nods as the man talks on and on. Finally, the man stands to gather his things and leave.
-----
Suddenly he’s running, feet splashing against the puddles of rain on the ground. He doesn’t think, he doesn’t see, he only runs. He feels the freezing cold rain pour down from the sky and pelt him like bullets of ice. Somewhere along the way, his legs start burning and his muscles cry out for him to stop, but he keeps on running. He doesn’t slow down until he finds the white paper crane again.
There it is-this time Jaejoong reaches out to touch it, and is soothed by the pureness of its white coat, of its fresh aura and seemingly immortal powers. The second his fingertips brush against the crane’s wings is the second his eyes start flooding in tears and he holds no means to stop it.
(“This,” the man whispered, and spread his palm out for Jaejoong to see, “is for you,” There was a white piece of crumpled paper in his hand, but it instantly came to life when he lightly blew on it. It flattened itself smooth, until it had no wrinkles or crumples. Then, it folded itself over and over until it turned into a stunningly beautiful crane. The crane took off into the air, flapping its fragile wings by itself as Jaejoong stared in awe.
“Close your mouth,” the man chuckled “, and open your hand; hold it out, yes, like that. Keep it open,” Jaejoong stayed silent as the crane magically drifted down and landed on his palm, its wings resting softly at his fingertips.
As he looked closer, he noticed that the crane had tiny, little, black eyes that looked back into his. The beady miniature eyes even blinked once in a while as the crane cocked his neck to get a better view at Jaejoong face. Its wings and feathers were an intricate design of careful folds and creases that weaved in and out of each other, reflecting the milky smooth surface of its paper.
“Do you like it?” the man asked after a while. He wrung his hands like a nervous child, and sighed in relief when Jaejoong nodded an enthusiastic “yes”. The man broke into a grin before leaning in to whisper in the younger boy’s ear.
“Then it’s yours to keep, alongside with my heart,”)
-----
“You’re back!” the old man exclaims the next day when Jaejoong opens the door to the art studio again. Jaejoong smiles in greeting and sits next to the man again. He nods along as the man jabbers on about how he had an enjoyable lunch with his wife the day before, but soon tunes out of the conversation, and lets the man drone on by himself instead.
It’s the same as yesterday, and soon, Jaejoong is sucked into his painting, eyes dead and brain unthinking. Only his hands move-mixing paint, choosing paint, painting paint. When he is able to snap out of his trance this time, the old man is absorbed in his own art, and Jaejoong is left staring dully at nothing.
“Oh, hey” the old man randomly exclaims after a while, “That boy in there,” he points at the little boy in Jaejoong’s painting, “He looks like you, don’t you think?” The man laughs at himself before going back to mixing his paint. Jaejoong doesn’t even blink and instead studies his painting, like he has never seen likes of it before, even though it had come out of his own very hands.
In the painting, just as the old man had said, is a little boy that did look quite like Jaejoong. He is surrounded by clumps of green trees that seem like they are closing in on him, leaning into him. The sky is a murky gray and the only source of light is a glowing white crane that floats in the air. Jaejoong closes his eyes and soon, he slips away from the little grasp of reality he had.
-----
He’s back at the forest, but this time, he doesn’t have to run anywhere to find the crane; it’s already waiting for him. The glow of the white crane attracts him once again, and once again, Jaejoong reaches out to touch it.
(“Run, Jaejoong,” the man urged, his eyes filled with fear, “Run,” Jaejoong didn’t say anything-he couldn’t, and only stared at the other man. No, no, no, I can’t, he thought. The footsteps grew louder, and soon, the couple could hear shouts travel from downstairs up to the room they crouched in. The man looked around worriedly, and then snapped his fingers twice. The paper crane suddenly came drifting in through the open window, and perched gently upon the man’s shoulder.
“Here,” the man whispered. “Take good care of him. He’ll tell you where to go, just follow him, okay? Promise me, you have to keep this little guy safe. Keep him safe and you stay safe too, okay? No, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer this time.” Jaejoong could only shake his head vigorously. His eyes filled up with tears and a terrible, scraping feeling clawed at the back of his throat. No.
The voices suddenly got ear-piercing loud as a giant gust of air blows in and the door is burst open. People dressed in odd black capes charged in, shouting louder and louder. Jaejoong shut his eyes tight and covered his ears with his hands. He didn’t even understand what had really happened before another gust of wind carries him off, and the only thing that echoes in his mind is the man’s voice.)
----
When Jaejoong wakes up this time, he knows exactly where to go. He storms out of the art studio with the old man yelling at him in confusion and sprints to the edge of the forest. There, Jaejoong finds the white paper crane, and greets it with a slight nod. It floats next to his head for a while, supposedly singing a song of relief, before turning back around and leading him into the trees.
They walk for a few minutes, which Jaejoong doesn’t know as more or less of an hour, before coming upon an ancient-looking house, shingles falling off the roof and walls nearly falling off by themselves.
“Jaejoong, Jae~” The man sings, “Do you like this color? Which color for the walls, hmm?” Jaejoong hums for a minute, contemplating his answer before decidedly setting his finger on a sort of light orange or yellow color. When the sun hits the walls in the morning, we’ll have a glowing paradise, he thinks, and Yunho agrees with a smile. “I like that color too!” he says.
The color is completely gone, Jaejoong notices as he steps into the house, staring at the walls, whose colorless layers of paint have flaked off. He floats across the dusty floors and hovers around the large family room for a second, taking a deep breath of the dingy air before moving on.
He walks into the only bedroom of the house, and notices the bed, with crumpled bed sheets and cobwebs forming layers of white on top of it. He notices how the wood floor is cracked and worn down from time, and how the windowpanes no longer contain glass-how they are now just big holes on the side of the house.
Jaejoong walks over to the closet and slowly slides the door open, not knowing whether he would be able to find anything there at all. He does, and it’s only a simple suitcase stuffed with clothes and little other things, but he knows exactly who it belongs to. Exactly who it belonged to.
Where is he? Jaejoong asks the crane, who knows what he thinks even if he can’t say it out loud. It’s the magic of magic. The crane doesn’t respond though, so Jaejoong turns around and stares at it, teary-eyed. Where is he? he demands. There is a silence that engulfs the whole room, and the crane only floats up to Jaejoong when he’s almost in tears again.
The crane nudges at his hand, and Jaejoong opens it out of habit to let the paper creature sit on his palm. Suddenly, a pang of realization hits him as the crane emits a larger glow and its warmth becomes more apparent to his touch. He sees images of things he has never seen before and sounds, smells, textures, and tastes-he suddenly remembers.
Yunho?
-past-
It’s months after Jaejoong first met Yunho, and the little paper crane still follows him wherever he goes. It’s good company, he guesses, when Yunho can’t come visit him for a long time, since no one else talks to him. Or he can’t talk to anyone else.
Jaejoong’s a Mute. And Yunho and his crane are the only two that can ever understand him. Even his family, his own parents have kept him locked up in this room; he’s been in it since he can remember. Jaejoong understands that they’re doing it to protect him, because the Magicians don’t want such imperfections as him in the world, but he longs for someone to care for him. No on ever comes to visit, other than Yunho, even though he himself is a Magician.
Jaejoong hasn’t heard much from the outside, only from Yunho but his visits were becoming less and less. But today, after eighteen years, he finds himself torn away from the only room he’s known of, and pushed out the back door of the house, with only the clothes on his back and a few dollars thrust into his hands. After so long, he guesses he’s being kicked out.
The moment he lifts his head up, though, he understands why. Magicians cover the street, everywhere. They knock on doors, with their wands and fireballs already prepared to incinerate all the wrongs they can find. Jaejoong understands. And he’s smart enough, so he runs.
Down the alleyways and through small cracks, he isn’t sure where to find Yunho, but he knows the crane does. The paper crane, floating ahead in front, leads him through the oddest weaves around the city streets, but always manages to keep him out of the Magicians sight. Soon enough, he finds himself in front of a mansion.
The gates are closed tightly, but the paper crane leads him to the back, where there’s a tiny opening he can fit through. Jaejoong soon finds himself in a room, where he can do nothing but wait. The crane lingers above his shoulder, but doesn’t say anything at all.
Yunho does though.
The man bursts through the doors of the room with a worried look on his face. He gathers Jaejoong up in his arms and leaves trails of kisses down his neck. Jaejoong smiles and leans into the man’s embrace, just a little.
“I have to get you out of here,” Yunho whispers urgently, “Now.” He takes Jaejoong’s hand and pulls him along, back out the door in which he came in through and up the grand stairs that Jaejoong wishes he could have stopped for a few moments to examine. The crane follows.
“I-I don’t know why they’re doing this, Jae,” Yunho groans when he and Jaejoong are behind doors which are locked tightly. “I don’t know what they’re doing” His eyes are wet when they look up at Jaejoong, who doesn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even if he could.
“I-“ he begins again but a loud thundering downstairs can be heard and suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps. Both of the men’s eyes grow wide.
“Run, Jaejoong, Yunho urges, voice piercing the silence of heavy boots and shouts of orders, “Run,” Jaejoong looks like he’ll burst into tears in no time. He doesn’t even know what will happen to Yunho. Surely helping a Mute like Jaejoong could not win him a medal from the Magicians. Even his own family had just thrown him out when the Magicians reached their town.
The loud footsteps only grow louder, crushing both Yunho and Jaejoong’s hearts as each one hit the ground.
“Here,” the man whispers and the paper crane drifts closer to Jaejoong. “Take good care of him. He’ll tell you where to go, just follow him, okay? Promise me, you have to keep this little guy safe. Keep him safe and you stay safe too, okay? No, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer this time.” Jaejoong shakes his head, and a dry feeling of sandpaper runs over the back of his neck.
Shouting voices from outside turn unbearably loud and Jaejoong almost feels himself being blown away when the door is burst open by force. Then they come rushing in. The Magicians, with their black capes and large wands, Jaejoong starts to feel sick.
He squeezes his eyes tightly shut and everything that happens next is like a gust of wind. It’s over in a second and Jaejoong finds himself in another place-somewhere hot and dry. He doesn’t like it, but he turns around and there is Yunho waiting for him. He instantly loves the new place.
The man is hurt though, even Jaejoong can tell. He’s battered from head to toe, bruised and burnt, but he’s alive. And so is Jaejoong.
They settle down for a while, but then move. Jaejoong never understands how it happens. He only closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, he’s in a completely new place. Sometimes, he wonders if the places are even in the same world. They’re all so different, deserts, jungles, cities, or forests. Yunho never seems to run out of new places to take him. Even the people that live in these places: some of them act like they’re a thousand years old, even though they look twenty. Some dress with garments Jaejoong has never once seen in his life, overflowing dresses of pink and green, or plain t-shirts and jeans, or sometimes, even nothing at all. Jaejoong discovers so many things, even those he’s never known existed.
Yunho says it’s to make up for all those years he’s been locked up alone.
The last place Jaejoong remembers is a little cabin in the midst of trees and more trees. He and Yunho had built everything (with a help of magic along the way) and he had honestly been ready to call it home.
But a sight that Jaejoong has only seen once, and haven’t seen for years interrupts. The hooded Magicians show up outside their windows one night and after that, Jaejoong remembers nothing. Nothing at all, only blackness and depth.
Rating:
Pairings: unho/Jaejoong
Word Count: ,017
Summar In which jaejoong is an Imperfection and Yunho is a Magician.
A/N A birthday present fo mint_whispers. I haven't reread it, and it probably sucks but i really couldn't make anything else OTL happy bday girl ^^ //failed attempt of RomeoXJuliet lol
It’s raining, and yet the crane is completely dry; there is not a drop of water on its paper surface. Instead, it emits a soft white glow that shines in the darkness as it leads Jaejoong along the forest path. He doesn’t know where it’s taking him, but he feels like he has to follow it. He feels like it somehow, it has something to tell him. It leads him through the trees, using them to shelter him from the rain, and Jaejoong can only follow
The crane turns around and floats in the same place in the air for a while, as if it’s beckoning for Jaejoong to hurry up. He lets out a small smile and reaches out to the paper crane. His fingertips hover right above the surface of its creamy paper, and he dances around its contour. He doesn’t exactly touch it, only lingering above it instead, before-
Jaejoong wakes up sweating and his throat feels drier than a desert. He doesn’t exactly know why.
-----
Jaejoong shuffles his feet in the small puddles of rain on the ground, carelessly dangling his umbrella on his shoulder, and sticking his hand out to feel the droplets of cold rain on his fingertips. The sky is filled with gray clouds, and no matter how hard he looks, Jaejoong can’t find a single ray of sunshine anywhere. The rain just keeps on pouring down without any mercy.
Jaejoong sighs while he remembers his dream. He lets out a tiny chuckle realizing the irony of the rain, and the same trees that stood on the side of him as he stepped down the sidewalk. The trees look similar if not exactly identical to the ones in his dream. It could have been the same forest for all he knows.
When he walks into his art studio that gloomy gray morning, he is greeted cheerfully by the old man that always sits beside him, painting on some sort of canvas while he paints on his. He nods his head in response before seating himself down in front of the canvas he had set out for himself the night before, and starts getting his materials out.
Before he even notices it, the day is already almost half over and his blank canvas has been caked in layers of paint. Jaejoong’s eyes are clouded with a gloss cover of mist, and his hands lay limp by his side, as equally covered in paint as his canvas. He doesn’t snap out of his languorous daze until the old man’s voice is loud in his ears.
“That’s a wonderful painting you have there, young man. I wonder if my art skills will ever become as refined as yours. I wonder if I will even live long enough to make just one painting as beautiful as your simple sketches.” The man chuckles and Jaejoong can only let out a nervous laugh.
“Your art is so beautiful, honestly,” the man continues, “Every single one of your pieces-they draw me into a trance. It’s almost as if they’re magic; no seriously: I can’t even look away until I remember that my wife will skin me alive if I don’t get home soon,” He laughs and Jaejoong manages another small giggle. He smiles and thanks the man for his words, before the man starts fretting about getting home in time for lunch, and how his wife wanted to go out today. Jaejoong only smiles and nods as the man talks on and on. Finally, the man stands to gather his things and leave.
-----
Suddenly he’s running, feet splashing against the puddles of rain on the ground. He doesn’t think, he doesn’t see, he only runs. He feels the freezing cold rain pour down from the sky and pelt him like bullets of ice. Somewhere along the way, his legs start burning and his muscles cry out for him to stop, but he keeps on running. He doesn’t slow down until he finds the white paper crane again.
There it is-this time Jaejoong reaches out to touch it, and is soothed by the pureness of its white coat, of its fresh aura and seemingly immortal powers. The second his fingertips brush against the crane’s wings is the second his eyes start flooding in tears and he holds no means to stop it.
(“This,” the man whispered, and spread his palm out for Jaejoong to see, “is for you,” There was a white piece of crumpled paper in his hand, but it instantly came to life when he lightly blew on it. It flattened itself smooth, until it had no wrinkles or crumples. Then, it folded itself over and over until it turned into a stunningly beautiful crane. The crane took off into the air, flapping its fragile wings by itself as Jaejoong stared in awe.
“Close your mouth,” the man chuckled “, and open your hand; hold it out, yes, like that. Keep it open,” Jaejoong stayed silent as the crane magically drifted down and landed on his palm, its wings resting softly at his fingertips.
As he looked closer, he noticed that the crane had tiny, little, black eyes that looked back into his. The beady miniature eyes even blinked once in a while as the crane cocked his neck to get a better view at Jaejoong face. Its wings and feathers were an intricate design of careful folds and creases that weaved in and out of each other, reflecting the milky smooth surface of its paper.
“Do you like it?” the man asked after a while. He wrung his hands like a nervous child, and sighed in relief when Jaejoong nodded an enthusiastic “yes”. The man broke into a grin before leaning in to whisper in the younger boy’s ear.
“Then it’s yours to keep, alongside with my heart,”)
-----
“You’re back!” the old man exclaims the next day when Jaejoong opens the door to the art studio again. Jaejoong smiles in greeting and sits next to the man again. He nods along as the man jabbers on about how he had an enjoyable lunch with his wife the day before, but soon tunes out of the conversation, and lets the man drone on by himself instead.
It’s the same as yesterday, and soon, Jaejoong is sucked into his painting, eyes dead and brain unthinking. Only his hands move-mixing paint, choosing paint, painting paint. When he is able to snap out of his trance this time, the old man is absorbed in his own art, and Jaejoong is left staring dully at nothing.
“Oh, hey” the old man randomly exclaims after a while, “That boy in there,” he points at the little boy in Jaejoong’s painting, “He looks like you, don’t you think?” The man laughs at himself before going back to mixing his paint. Jaejoong doesn’t even blink and instead studies his painting, like he has never seen likes of it before, even though it had come out of his own very hands.
In the painting, just as the old man had said, is a little boy that did look quite like Jaejoong. He is surrounded by clumps of green trees that seem like they are closing in on him, leaning into him. The sky is a murky gray and the only source of light is a glowing white crane that floats in the air. Jaejoong closes his eyes and soon, he slips away from the little grasp of reality he had.
-----
He’s back at the forest, but this time, he doesn’t have to run anywhere to find the crane; it’s already waiting for him. The glow of the white crane attracts him once again, and once again, Jaejoong reaches out to touch it.
(“Run, Jaejoong,” the man urged, his eyes filled with fear, “Run,” Jaejoong didn’t say anything-he couldn’t, and only stared at the other man. No, no, no, I can’t, he thought. The footsteps grew louder, and soon, the couple could hear shouts travel from downstairs up to the room they crouched in. The man looked around worriedly, and then snapped his fingers twice. The paper crane suddenly came drifting in through the open window, and perched gently upon the man’s shoulder.
“Here,” the man whispered. “Take good care of him. He’ll tell you where to go, just follow him, okay? Promise me, you have to keep this little guy safe. Keep him safe and you stay safe too, okay? No, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer this time.” Jaejoong could only shake his head vigorously. His eyes filled up with tears and a terrible, scraping feeling clawed at the back of his throat. No.
The voices suddenly got ear-piercing loud as a giant gust of air blows in and the door is burst open. People dressed in odd black capes charged in, shouting louder and louder. Jaejoong shut his eyes tight and covered his ears with his hands. He didn’t even understand what had really happened before another gust of wind carries him off, and the only thing that echoes in his mind is the man’s voice.)
----
When Jaejoong wakes up this time, he knows exactly where to go. He storms out of the art studio with the old man yelling at him in confusion and sprints to the edge of the forest. There, Jaejoong finds the white paper crane, and greets it with a slight nod. It floats next to his head for a while, supposedly singing a song of relief, before turning back around and leading him into the trees.
They walk for a few minutes, which Jaejoong doesn’t know as more or less of an hour, before coming upon an ancient-looking house, shingles falling off the roof and walls nearly falling off by themselves.
“Jaejoong, Jae~” The man sings, “Do you like this color? Which color for the walls, hmm?” Jaejoong hums for a minute, contemplating his answer before decidedly setting his finger on a sort of light orange or yellow color. When the sun hits the walls in the morning, we’ll have a glowing paradise, he thinks, and Yunho agrees with a smile. “I like that color too!” he says.
The color is completely gone, Jaejoong notices as he steps into the house, staring at the walls, whose colorless layers of paint have flaked off. He floats across the dusty floors and hovers around the large family room for a second, taking a deep breath of the dingy air before moving on.
He walks into the only bedroom of the house, and notices the bed, with crumpled bed sheets and cobwebs forming layers of white on top of it. He notices how the wood floor is cracked and worn down from time, and how the windowpanes no longer contain glass-how they are now just big holes on the side of the house.
Jaejoong walks over to the closet and slowly slides the door open, not knowing whether he would be able to find anything there at all. He does, and it’s only a simple suitcase stuffed with clothes and little other things, but he knows exactly who it belongs to. Exactly who it belonged to.
Where is he? Jaejoong asks the crane, who knows what he thinks even if he can’t say it out loud. It’s the magic of magic. The crane doesn’t respond though, so Jaejoong turns around and stares at it, teary-eyed. Where is he? he demands. There is a silence that engulfs the whole room, and the crane only floats up to Jaejoong when he’s almost in tears again.
The crane nudges at his hand, and Jaejoong opens it out of habit to let the paper creature sit on his palm. Suddenly, a pang of realization hits him as the crane emits a larger glow and its warmth becomes more apparent to his touch. He sees images of things he has never seen before and sounds, smells, textures, and tastes-he suddenly remembers.
Yunho?
-past-
It’s months after Jaejoong first met Yunho, and the little paper crane still follows him wherever he goes. It’s good company, he guesses, when Yunho can’t come visit him for a long time, since no one else talks to him. Or he can’t talk to anyone else.
Jaejoong’s a Mute. And Yunho and his crane are the only two that can ever understand him. Even his family, his own parents have kept him locked up in this room; he’s been in it since he can remember. Jaejoong understands that they’re doing it to protect him, because the Magicians don’t want such imperfections as him in the world, but he longs for someone to care for him. No on ever comes to visit, other than Yunho, even though he himself is a Magician.
Jaejoong hasn’t heard much from the outside, only from Yunho but his visits were becoming less and less. But today, after eighteen years, he finds himself torn away from the only room he’s known of, and pushed out the back door of the house, with only the clothes on his back and a few dollars thrust into his hands. After so long, he guesses he’s being kicked out.
The moment he lifts his head up, though, he understands why. Magicians cover the street, everywhere. They knock on doors, with their wands and fireballs already prepared to incinerate all the wrongs they can find. Jaejoong understands. And he’s smart enough, so he runs.
Down the alleyways and through small cracks, he isn’t sure where to find Yunho, but he knows the crane does. The paper crane, floating ahead in front, leads him through the oddest weaves around the city streets, but always manages to keep him out of the Magicians sight. Soon enough, he finds himself in front of a mansion.
The gates are closed tightly, but the paper crane leads him to the back, where there’s a tiny opening he can fit through. Jaejoong soon finds himself in a room, where he can do nothing but wait. The crane lingers above his shoulder, but doesn’t say anything at all.
Yunho does though.
The man bursts through the doors of the room with a worried look on his face. He gathers Jaejoong up in his arms and leaves trails of kisses down his neck. Jaejoong smiles and leans into the man’s embrace, just a little.
“I have to get you out of here,” Yunho whispers urgently, “Now.” He takes Jaejoong’s hand and pulls him along, back out the door in which he came in through and up the grand stairs that Jaejoong wishes he could have stopped for a few moments to examine. The crane follows.
“I-I don’t know why they’re doing this, Jae,” Yunho groans when he and Jaejoong are behind doors which are locked tightly. “I don’t know what they’re doing” His eyes are wet when they look up at Jaejoong, who doesn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even if he could.
“I-“ he begins again but a loud thundering downstairs can be heard and suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps. Both of the men’s eyes grow wide.
“Run, Jaejoong, Yunho urges, voice piercing the silence of heavy boots and shouts of orders, “Run,” Jaejoong looks like he’ll burst into tears in no time. He doesn’t even know what will happen to Yunho. Surely helping a Mute like Jaejoong could not win him a medal from the Magicians. Even his own family had just thrown him out when the Magicians reached their town.
The loud footsteps only grow louder, crushing both Yunho and Jaejoong’s hearts as each one hit the ground.
“Here,” the man whispers and the paper crane drifts closer to Jaejoong. “Take good care of him. He’ll tell you where to go, just follow him, okay? Promise me, you have to keep this little guy safe. Keep him safe and you stay safe too, okay? No, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer this time.” Jaejoong shakes his head, and a dry feeling of sandpaper runs over the back of his neck.
Shouting voices from outside turn unbearably loud and Jaejoong almost feels himself being blown away when the door is burst open by force. Then they come rushing in. The Magicians, with their black capes and large wands, Jaejoong starts to feel sick.
He squeezes his eyes tightly shut and everything that happens next is like a gust of wind. It’s over in a second and Jaejoong finds himself in another place-somewhere hot and dry. He doesn’t like it, but he turns around and there is Yunho waiting for him. He instantly loves the new place.
The man is hurt though, even Jaejoong can tell. He’s battered from head to toe, bruised and burnt, but he’s alive. And so is Jaejoong.
They settle down for a while, but then move. Jaejoong never understands how it happens. He only closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, he’s in a completely new place. Sometimes, he wonders if the places are even in the same world. They’re all so different, deserts, jungles, cities, or forests. Yunho never seems to run out of new places to take him. Even the people that live in these places: some of them act like they’re a thousand years old, even though they look twenty. Some dress with garments Jaejoong has never once seen in his life, overflowing dresses of pink and green, or plain t-shirts and jeans, or sometimes, even nothing at all. Jaejoong discovers so many things, even those he’s never known existed.
Yunho says it’s to make up for all those years he’s been locked up alone.
The last place Jaejoong remembers is a little cabin in the midst of trees and more trees. He and Yunho had built everything (with a help of magic along the way) and he had honestly been ready to call it home.
But a sight that Jaejoong has only seen once, and haven’t seen for years interrupts. The hooded Magicians show up outside their windows one night and after that, Jaejoong remembers nothing. Nothing at all, only blackness and depth.