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my red king, my beloved captain

Summary:

They were separated by duty, by fear, by destruction.

They destroyed themselves in order to save the world.

Now, it's the time for healing, for changing and for closure.

Notes:

First things first, I've been watching every damn DCAU movie in a span of 5 days, so if any actions of certain characters remind you of a certain member of BatFamily, no it doesn't.

Second, this is something pretty new for me, since the last time that I wrote something in a fantasy setting, I had to make all the lore from scratch, so bear with me, because I will not try to be accurate with the original Miraculous Lore. Take it as an alternative universe for the entire show. Some things follow the same path, and some don't.

If you never watched the show, it's okay! I'll be explaining a lot of things, so I promise you won't be confused while reading.

 

All of it explained and clarified, I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 1: chat-shire (your new-found secret)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Hongjoong was 15 minutes late for his class, his jacket was messed up because he spilled coffee on it and his hair was all over the place.

So much for sleeping in after pulling an all-nighter.

“Again?” Yunho wasn’t mad, mostly because he knew Hongjoong’s coping ways, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about his friend.

“Last minute recap on the entire content and three commissions for next week. The end of the semester is kicking my ass,” Yunho scoffed quietly, handing the shorter his notepad full of secondary notes. “You’re a saint, really,” if Hongjoong yelped because his best friend pinched him under the desk, no one needed to know.

“A new guy is transferring to your major, did you hear about that?” Hongjoong didn’t even lift his face, trying to take notes as much as he could from the teacher’s board.

“Yeah, some rich dude from London, I think. Didn’t bother to listen to the gossip,” the first half of the board was down, now he had to deal with the other half… that the teacher had erased. “Fuck,” he mumbled, bumping his head against the desk.

“Hyung, don’t be so hard on yourself. You are half asleep, and I am pretty sure you’re lying about having only three commissions for next week,” Hongjoong hated how well Yunho knew him sometimes. “I can lend you my notes later. Just take notes from now on and I can explain what you lost after class,” the fashion designer sighed, taking in the offer before nodding and leaving a blank page for the lost notes.

After a few seconds, Hongjoong grew restless, doodling by the borders of his notebook and taking messy notes from the teacher’s speech.

“I took five commissions and uncle Eden asked me to design the cover of his new album that’ll be released next month,” Hongjoong mumbled, earning another pinch on his side and a glare from his best friend.

“You are insufferable, hyung,” was the only answer he got from Yunho, who turned quiet for the rest of the class.

 

=======

 

There was only so much Hongjoong was able to catch up in 24 hours.

His commissions, classes, and outside things, all of it needed time to be done, and he could barely work on what he wanted after everything was over at the end of the day.

“Fuck,” he hissed, crunching down to gather his books from the library that had fallen on the floor. A second person did the same, collecting the books nearby and pilling them in their own arms. “I am so sorry; I wasn’t paying attention. Are you hurt?” the guy whom he had run into chuckled lightly, looking at Hongjoong from above the pile of books on his arms.

“I am fine, don’t worry. I didn’t think you would still be this clumsy in college, Hongjoong” the dude teased, but it didn’t make sense to Hongjoong. Especially because he knew he had never met the guy before him.

“Pardon, but do we know each other? I didn’t introduce myself,” Hongjoong was wary, watching as the man stiffened a little. Did he say something wrong? But then the weird look in the man’s eyes disappeared as fast as it came.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man had chocolate brown eyes and a soft expression, dressed casually as any student. “My name is Seonghwa, and you dropped coffee on my clothes once. You were on your way to school, if I’m not mistaken,” Hongjoong now had an apologetic smile. The sadness was back on Seonghwa’s eyes with the hint of something else.

“Was it when I was around 16 or so?” Seonghwa nodded, handing Hongjoong’s books back after seeing the shorter put them on his bag. “Unhappily, I lost almost all my memories of that year and the previous one after an accident. You are just a stranger for me, now,” Hongjoong swore he saw something clouding Seonghwa’s eyes for a second before the man offered him a bright and sincere smile.

“Well, what if I pay you some coffee? And if you like my company, we can go from there. You seem like you need some caffeine,” the tone was light, and Hongjoong had no idea why he felt so at ease when he knew he was on high alert most of the time, waiting for some kind of incident, even if there was any chance of one, at all.

“You got me on ‘Pay you coffee’. I like the cafeteria by the end of the street the better,” Seonghwa had a sheepish smile on his lips.

“Actually, do you mind showing me around? I just transferred and, to be honest, I am kinda lost,” it took everything in Hongjoong to not laugh out loud. Not at Seonghwa, but the situation itself. Poor dude offered to pay someone a drink but didn’t even know where to go.

“No, no. It’s okay. I just need to leave my things in my apartment, and we can go from there. No way in hell I’m walking around with all these books on my back,” the student commented, walking in the direction of the closest exit of the campus. He just knew that Seonghwa would follow his lead.

“Is your apartment too far? You can just leave your stuff in my car and get it back later,” Hongjoong thought for a second before nodding at the offer.

“A twenty-minute walk, I think. Thirty if I’m feeling lazy,” he heard Seonghwa hold back a laugh, but didn’t care much. People usually reacted that way when he spoke about his lack of stamina when doing things outside of working on his commissions.

“Well, my car is parked at the end of the street, a one-minute walk from here,” Seonghwa pressed the button in the car key to proving his point and they heard the sound of alarms being turned off by the end of the sidewalk.

“Good, then. Because the cafeteria is on the other side of the street. Really, how did you miss that?” they took lazy steps towards the vehicle, shoulder to shoulder without bothering about distancing themselves from each other.

“I was distracted. It’s been a while since the last time I came to South Korea without being trapped inside of an office,” Hongjoong raised an eyebrow and Seonghwa finally opened the door of the backseat of the car. “Work does it with people. I can’t believe I finally found someone to help me keep things on track.”

“It sounds stressing,” the shorter commented, dropping his bag in the backseat of the vehicle before Seonghwa locked it again.

“It was, especially after some stuff came up a few years ago, but it’s all fine now,” they crossed the street after looking at both sides. Seonghwa reached for the door first and let Hongjoong get in without a second thought, more like a habit than chivalry.

“If you say so,” Hongjoong turned his attention towards the cashier, biting his lower lip lightly. “What would you like? Black coffee? Americano?” the taller took his time to scan the board before settling down one of his hands on Hongjoong’s shoulder.

“I would like a large Chai Tea Latte, please. Black tea, not matte,” Seonghwa seemed to ponder for a second before giving up whatever was in the tip of his tongue.

“Medium Mochaccino for me, please,” the cashier nodded, typing the order in the computer before turning to them.

“It’ll be 30.000,00 won,” before Hongjoong could take out his wallet, Seonghwa was offering his own credit card to the cashier.

“Pass it on the card, please. Thank you very much,” Hongjoong heard a chuckle on his back, and turned to see a smiling Seonghwa standing there. “What? I told you I was going to pay. Why don’t you find us a nice seat, though? I’ll get our order and find you soon,” the designer didn’t put much resistance, sighing quietly before nodding.

Once Hongjoong was out of Seonghwa’s sight to sit at one of the tables in the back of the cafeteria, he felt himself start to fidget again, hands clammy and bouncing his leg anxiously,

“You okay there?” the student looked up to see Seonghwa put the tray on their table. Two cups of steaming coffee, a plate of cookies, and macarons sat neatly aside.

“Yeah, I just spaced out. I’m sorry,” Seonghwa sat across from him, pushing the plate of macarons in his direction.

“I figured you would like some sweets too.”

“Thank you. Macarons are my favorites, besides my friend’s pastries. You got it right,” Seonghwa took a sip from his drink and smiled.

“I know,” it made Hongjoong lift his eyes quite fast, narrowing them at the stranger in front of him. “When we met the first time, you told me that Wooyoung, I believe this was his name, was really good at cooking,” the student was wary again, his fight or flee senses kicking a bit too loud.

“I don’t think I would have told these kinds of things to a complete stranger with no reason, at all,” Seonghwa seemed to have finally noticed what he said. He sank on his seat, lips slightly parted from his own surprise.

“I am so sorry. I forgot you don’t remember me, at all,” he let out a bitter laugh before shoving one of the cookies into his mouth and taking a bite. “You see, we were nice friends before I had to move away from Seoul. We met when you were turning 16, I think? I was leaving one of my martial arts classes when we bumped into each other, and you dropped your iced americano on my shirt. Mother almost cut my head off at that time, but it was worth losing that shirt. I paid you another coffee and you handmade me another shirt.”

“Oh, I am sorry I can’t remember that,” something in Seonghwa’s eyes made Hongjoong think that the taller didn’t care about his amnesia at all. As if he understood the feeling,

“It’s okay. You said you suffered an accident, so it’s not your fault. We can always start from scratch again, and I can leave if you don’t feel comfortable with me around anymore.”

“No!” was Hongjoong’s prompt answer, almost bumping onto their cups when he tried to reach out for Seonghwa’s hand. “I mean, I like having you around so far. I don’t think we need to stop seeing each other just yet,” Seonghwa nodded, looking at Hongjoong’s hand on his for a few seconds before letting the smaller of the smiles take his lips.

“Then, maybe you can lend me your phone? So, I can give you my number and we can keep in touch,” Hongjoong fumbled with the pockets of his jacket before he handed his phone to Seonghwa.

“You really don’t change, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa typed a few things before handing the phone back with a teasing smile. “I can’t believe you didn’t put a password, at least. You should be more careful.”

On the screen, the contact was already saved as “Old New Friend”.

Maybe getting to know Seonghwa wouldn’t be a loss, after all.

 

=====

 

“You are weirdly happy, hyung,” Yunho had both of his portfolios neatly put together by the side of the final version of his report. The friends were waiting for Mingi o leave his last class of the day while catching up on some content in the library.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Hongjoong had ditched the last-minute study session to text Seonghwa about their meeting later.

Ever since they went to the cafeteria the first time a few weeks prior, they had been constantly hanging out, mostly because Hongjoong wanted to know more about his past.

“You are literally smiling at your phone, hyung. You can fool anyone, but me,” and Hongjoong knew that fact. He groaned before bumping his head on the table lightly, more as a dramatic demeanor than real frustration.

“I met this guy a few weeks ago, and he says that he knew me. I mean, me before I lost my memories,” Yunho had a concerned look on his face. The dancer put down his pen and focused solely on Hongjoong.

“And how are you so sure that he is telling you the truth, hyung? It would be amazing if it was, really, but I don’t want to see you hurt if he turns out to be a liar,” he had a point. A very good point that Hongjoong couldn’t put aside.

“I thought about it too, so I’ve been comparing the stories he’s been telling me with articles on the internet and a couple of bullet journals that I have at home from that time,” Hongjoong locked his phone and let it rest over the table. “Many things matched his versions of things, except when he had a different point of view or when we weren’t that close. I used to keep notes from my daily routine, and he was mentioned quite a couple of times, but not by his name.”

“Then, how did you call him?” Hongjoong had a soft smile on his lips while answering the question.

“Instead of writing his name, I used one of his Chinese characters to refer to him. I used to call him ‘Star’, or ‘Hwa’, which is pretty much the same. We were very fond of each other back then. I feel really bad that I can’t remember him now,” there were a lot of things that Hongjoong couldn’t remember, and it ate him from inside out.

It was almost one and a half years' worth of memories lost because of a damn accident that not even the medics could explain to his family.

He had lost an entire year of high school and had to be transferred to another high school since his previous one had many rumors about him being a bully lurking around.

His family didn’t believe the rumors, and Hongjoong had a fresh new start at YeongSan High School, where he met Yunho, Mingi, and Yeosang, the same friends who followed him to college.

“Well, if you really were friends before, I am sure that he’ll understand why you had to start again,” and Yunho was right because Seonghwa had been nothing but an angel from the beginning. He told Hongjoong stories from when they had martial arts classes together, how they would sneak out to see movies in the middle of the night or skip classes to take a walk in the park. It made him feel lighter.

“He does, but sometimes he forgets it and start rambling about something that we may have done together until he notices that I don’t remember, and then tells me the entire story so we can be on the same page,” Yunho hummed quietly, hope shining in his eyes only so subtly.

“Hyung, you know who he is, right?” the older furrowed his eyebrows, slightly confused once again.

“Yeah, Park Seonghwa, the guy to just transferred to my major. Why?” and now Yunho seemed a bit disappointed, but also amazed.

“I can’t believe you are that dense, hyung,” Hongjoong tilted his head to the side a little, confusion shining in his eyes. “Park Seonghwa. Park&Co. Ring a bell?” Hongjoong’s expression morphed from confusing to understanding and ended up a bit panicked.

Did he use to be friends with the President of the biggest fashion conglomerate of entire South Korea? Him? Kim Hongjoong?

“Hyung! Hyung!” Yunho shook the boy a little by his shoulders, trying to get the man’s thoughts back on track.

“Holy fuck, I am an idiot.”

Yunho laughed a little too loud.

The glare from the librarian was deserved, and the same applies to the pinch that made the dancer jump on his place.

 

======

 

Seonghwa’s shirt was slightly familiar, but again, everything about him was.

Hongjoong saw as the man moved around the penthouse with ease, digging into the cupboards for ingredients while warming the pans and using his phone.

He was still getting used to the fact that Seonghwa was rich a lived in one of the buildings with the best vision of Seoul of the entire city.

Seonghwa was wearing a set of sweatpants and a hoodie, hair messed around and tired eyes, but he seemed bright as always.

“I’m sorry about that,” Seonghwa hung up before turning his attention to Hongjoong and the food.

“Mind if I ask you something?” Hongjoong took a chair at the island in front of the where Seonghwa was cutting an onion. He had explored the apartment before, walked into almost every room, and spent some time on the couch. He could smell the faint scent of feminine perfume here and there but chose to don’t pry.

“Shoot it. I can’t promise to answer, tho,” that was enough. There were many topics that Seonghwa avoided from time to time, but Hongjoong was patient. He could wait for the answers.

“How did you manage to become the head of Park&Co being so young?” he saw Seonghwa stiffen for a second before letting out a sigh.

“When I was around 13 my father fell ill and never recovered. After his death, my mother took his place,” he put the onions on the pan with the pieces of meat he had cut before. The smell was already nice. “I've been homeschooled my entire life, but I got to go out when I modeled for a few clothe lines, and later when I got permission to take martial arts classes,” he took the container of kimchi out of the fridge and put a good portion on a bowl, before returning the big container to its place.

“And that’s how we met,” Seonghwa nodded at Hongjoong’s comment, offering him the chopstick to be put on the table before going back to the pan.

“Yeah, that’s right. But when I turned 18, she got mentally ill and had to be removed from her seat forcibly. I stepped up as the new President once she stepped down. I went to England to learn with my cousin and my aunt, who had dealt with my father’s previous company before he married. They taught me a lot in terms of business and my cousin had been dealing with the Asian Division of the company since she graduated,” he took the pan from the fire and turned the meat and sweet onions into a bowl. “They did everything behind of the curtains, of course, but most of the decisions before I turned 22 were made by them, but I had my fair share of successful projects, I can’t deny,” Seonghwa was glowing, and Hongjoong didn’t know if it was because he liked to brag or because he never had the chance to talk about his own story before.

“Wasn’t it lonely?” Hongjoong couldn’t hold his tongue. He could see the sadness pouring from Seonghwa’s eyes. “I mean, you had almost everything, but I don’t think you had someone to share.”

“You’re right,” the answer came easy as Seonghwa sat by the table after setting down the electric pan with rice and two cups of iced tea. “After I moved away, I didn’t have anyone else to talk, besides my cousin. We were attached to the hip, but it wasn’t the same as talking with you. I couldn’t talk about everything,” Hongjoong nodded and they ate in silence.

It was unnerving that Seonghwa could be so nonchalant about his situation, how he could talk about being lonely his entire life in the same way as someone talks about the weather.

Hongjoong watched how well-mannered the taller was, how polite and courtesan he would be when speaking and acting around others.

The same man who topped the food chain of the fashion industry in this side of the ocean liked to doodle small stars and butterflies by the border of his notebook during class.

The same man with whom Hongjoong spent an entire weekend together in order to binge-watch every possible episode of Steven Universe before crying his heart out when they watched ‘My Annoying Brother’ as a grand finale for their weekend.

In Hongjoong’s vision, Seonghwa didn’t deserve to feel either be lonely.

Seonghwa deserved all the good things in the world, only because he was him.

“Seonghwa!” a female voice pierced through Hongjoong’s thoughts, and he turned around to see a young woman run into the penthouse straight in their direction.

“Noona!” Seonghwa stood up from his place and ran to hug the woman, twirling her small frame around before putting her back on the ground. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming? I could have fetched you in the airport!” he seemed so happy, and Hongjoong felt bad for intruding, but he had to remind himself that he was there before her. She appeared out of the blue. And had Seonghwa’s house password.

“Who’s this? Oh my God, am I crashing your date?! I am so sorry!” she seemed ready to burst into embarrassment, but Seonghwa was faster on approaching the situation.

“No, no. It’s okay. Just sit here and I’ll fetch some chopsticks and a bowl. Wait a minute,” Seonghwa led her to the table before walking around the counter and getting said items to their guest. Hongjoong’s eyes darted from one to another, since Seonghwa was, now, sitting across from him and the woman was sitting by his side. “Oh, right, I’m sorry. Hongjoong, this is Monica. Monica, this is Kim Hongjoong.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Monica-ssi,” the girl had a surprised expression on her face, reaching out for Hongjoong’s hands without a second thought.

“Kim Hongjoong? As in the-guy-from-your-stories Kim Hongjoong?!” Seonghwa’s cheeks were painted with blush in a second, but he nodded, nonetheless. Monica turned back to Hongjoong with a gigantic smile plastered on her face. “It’s so good to finally meet you! You can call me Siyeon, it’s my Korean name and I don’t mind. Oh! Better! You can call me noona. Since you’re Seonghwa’s friend, you are now my honorary cousin!” that’s when Hongjoong connected the dots, taking in the physical similarities between the two of them. Sharp-shaped jawlines, almond-like eyes with chocolate brown irises, and plump lips curved in the slightest in a small smile.

Siyeon was Seonghwa’s cousin, the one he lived with in England.

She was loud, straightforward, and had a quick thought.

Hongjoong took a like on Siyeon within their first thirty minutes of talk, and that was saying something if he took at least a week to warm up with Yunho.

Notes:

Ok so this was a small intro (oh really?) just to explain a few things first.

Next chapter there are a few background stuff to be explained and I'll try to stick with the least complex and more practical side (kind of?)

kudos and comments are welcome!! see ya!

Chapter 2: glasses (let me be fooled)

Notes:

this was supposed to be posted next week but... well

TW // descriptions of anxiety crisis and nightmares

unhealthy coping mechanisms if you squint

enjoy! time to meet the first miraculous holder of this story!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It bothered Hongjoong to no end to see Seonghwa dancing around him and his memory loss, sometimes.

He just wanted the man to stop acting like something would make him break.

So, when he decided that he had had enough and went for a surprise visit to Seonghwa’s house for a talk, he was surprised to meet Seonghwa crying on Siyeon’s shoulder, being held tight by his cousin.

“They are the same person, but also are not. That Hongjoong and this Hongjoong,” the man sobbed. Hongjoong wanted to leave his hideout and ask, but he also felt like he should listen, because he knew that Seonghwa would never tell him the entire truth of their friendship.

“Of course they aren’t,” Siyeon’s voice carried fondness in it as if it was not the first time that such a breakdown happened. “Your Hongjoong had such a burden on his shoulders, Seonghwa. The entire thing about being a Guardian, a teenager trying to break through with his own business and friends that left him to suffer alone. I understand that you don’t want him to remember, but you should give him the choice of wanting his memories back or not,” another sob was heard and Hongjoong felt his blood boil.

“If he chooses to remember, he’ll be broken again. I don’t want it. I can live with the heartbreak and the grief of him forgetting me, but I won’t be able to bear the thought of him going back to the way he was. You saw it. He’s so happy now. I don’t want to take it from him.”

There was so much more that Seonghwa could tell him, but why didn’t he? Why was Seonghwa holding back now? What did he not want Hongjoong to remember?

There were too many questions, and the student barely made it to the elevator before he heard someone yelling his name behind the closed doors.

The next thing he knew was that he was sitting in his apartment, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as he sobbed, but he didn’t even know the reason for his sadness.

Something in the back of his head told him that he should. That his memories were supposed to be recovered and he should remember who he previously was. But what if it hurt him? What if he forgot simply because it was too much for him to handle?

 

I’ll protect you. I’ll be back. It’s our promise.

 

The voice was so familiar inside of his head, chanting quietly in the deep ends of his consciousness that seemed to slip by the second.

It scared him.

It scared him because Hongjoong knew what was coming and he didn’t like it.

The nightmares came in nights in which that he couldn’t sleep and ended up knocked out by exhaustion.

They came in the form of a well-dressed woman in a grey set of pantsuits wielding a butterfly minimalistic brooch.

She had straight black hair cut right above her shoulders, a long black cape falling from her shoulder blades, and a beret with a veil covering the upper half of her face. Behind her, a young faceless boy stood still, looking down while fidgeting with his silver ring.

In each nightmare, the boy would die in a different way, and Hongjoong could do nothing to avoid his tragic end but sit by and watch.

He saw many times when a man would come from behind both of them and just all of them would turn into dust.

Sometimes, the young boy would try to stop the woman only to be killed mercilessly by her staff, which had a hidden blade in its base. Other times, the man would never make into meet the woman and the boy.

The only pattern was that the boy would always end up dead, sometimes along with the man, the woman, both, or none.

Hongjoong only heard a few of the words the boy said before disappearing completely, and that night was no different

 

I’m sorry.

 

That was everything Hongjoong heard in between screams inside his first nightmare in a year.

 

======

 

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa’s voice came from behind, trying to keep up with the boy’s fast steps. “Hey! Slow down!” Seonghwa had dark bags under his eyes, his hair was messed up and his shirt was buttoned in the wrong holes, but the shorter couldn’t give him a chance to talk.

After the string of nightmares from the previous night, he wasn’t in the better state of mind to keep a conversation without snapping at someone. And he didn’t want to end up snapping at Seonghwa, from all people.

“Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood to talk,” Seonghwa fell into his pace, keeping up with the shorter easier than he should and holding the younger’s wrist carefully.

“Are you okay? I’m here if you need to vent, you know? Or we can just- ”

“Can’t you just leave me alone?!” both stopped in the middle of the corridor, not really caring about the students around. Seonghwa seemed to withdraw into himself, trying to become smaller. “Seonghwa-” the older took a small step back, but Hongjoong felt like he had been punched in the throat.

“It’s okay… we can… hm… we can talk later, I guess,” Seonghwa took small, careful steps backward, sadness and fear glimmering in his eyes. Hongjoong couldn’t help but feel his stomach sink at the sight.

“Seonghwa, wait-” but there was no use anymore. The taller had already turned around and sprinted in the opposite direction.

Hongjoong couldn’t think straight, thoughts already spiraling dangerously as his anxiety took over his senses, darkening his vision and muffling his surroundings.

“Hongjoong-hyung?” in a moment, Hongjoong was trying to ground himself against memories that he couldn’t remember, in the next, he was holding Yunho’s arm twisted against the taller’s back, his best friend kneeling in the middle of the corridor and hissing in pain.

“Y-Yunho?!” Hongjoong took a few steps back, releasing his friend’s arm and covering his face in shock. He didn’t know how he did, nor why. It was like his body had moved on its own. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t…” his vision was blurring again, and it was becoming hard to breathe.

“Hey! Hey! Stay with me!” there was a hand gently holding his, drawing small soothing circles in the back. “Breath in. Count down from five. Good, you’re doing well. Breath out. From five again,” Hongjoong couldn’t pinpoint whose voice was, but he latched onto the instructions as if they were his lifeline, breathing in and out as his vision cleared slowly.

A small circle of students had gathered around them, whispering and mumbling things that Hongjoong couldn’t understand, neither he wanted to.

He felt himself being carried bridal style once his breathing evened a little. He kept his eyes closed, inhaling the faint scent of masculine perfume embedded in the clothing of the person who was helping him.

“You can open your eyes. It’s safe now,” the voice tried to reassure him, bringing his mind back to the real world and the silence of an empty classroom.

Seonghwa's expression was pure concern, eyes filled with sadness and hands moving gently to play with Hongjoong’s hair.

Hongjoong took a moment to look around and locate himself. Empty room. He was sitting on one of the desks while Seonghwa was standing in front of him. No sounds of people walking in the hallway. No chattering that he could hear. He was fisting Seonghwa’s shirt. His cheeks were damp with tears.

“Here what you asked, hyung,” a guy with feline-like features entered the room holding two-colored bottles. Without a second thought, Hongjoong pulled Seonghwa to stand in front of him, hiding his small shape behind the standing man close to him.

“Thank you, San-ah. I’m sorry for making you lose some minutes of class, but I didn’t want to leave Hongjoong alone,” San gave Seonghwa the bottles, of what Hongjoong discovered to be Gatorade, and took a few steps back.

“It’s okay. You seemed nervous on the phone, and with a good reason. I’ll leave you two alone. If you need something else, you know how to find me,” Seonghwa nodded while watching the man leave.

Once San left the room, Hongjoong let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Who is he?” the fashion designer asked in a small voice, fidgeting with his fingers and trying to look anywhere but at Seonghwa.

“A good friend of mine,” was the only answer that he got before the taller opened his hand and put one of the bottles on his palm, cap already open. “You should drink a bit. I can tell for a fact that you don’t drink water in the same proportion that you drink coffee,” Hongjoong’s cheeks warmed up at the remark and he chugged down half of the bottle before finally taking a deep breath. “Feeling better?” a nod and the shorter finally gathered enough courage to lift his face.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. You did nothing wrong, I was just being stupid,” Seonghwa held both his shoulders and let a soft smile take his lips.

“I am not mad, Hongjoong. You got me with my guards down, that’s all. I was surprised and my fight or flee reflexes kicked in. I’m not a person fond of confrontation, if you can’t tell,” there was a small tone of fondness, of nostalgia.

Hongjoong wished he could remember everything he lost.

 

======

 

Hongjoong was an artist and everything he knew was to create.

CD covers, clothes, accessories, arrangements. Anything that screamed creativity he was able to do.

When Eden, a respected soloist, and music producer, took Hongjoong under his wings, it was because the man knew that the boy was fated to be big.

Not long after Hongjoong won a competition of design to be responsible for one of the covers of Eden’s new single, the soloist never let him go again.

Every one of the album covers was designed by him. Stage outfits for big occasions had his signature. Eden loved to brag about the mysterious fashion designer that was the apple of his eyes.

Hongjoong was 14, soon to be 15 years old when he saw his work receive a standing ovation for the first time, and from no one less than his favorite soloist ever.

He took few commissions here and there to keep his small business running, but he had a very strict rule: he only took commissions from people Eden indicated and could assure him that were trustworthy of his identity, which made the list even shorter.

IU only asked for outfits for specific occasions, and most of them never made it into the public’s eye. She was sweet and well-mannered and had a contagious energy that could make you smile just by looking at her.

Aside from those two, Maddox was someone Hongjoong liked a lot to work with. He was young and outstanding. A dork, for sure, but he also knew when to be stern and professional. His singing skills were above the roof and even if he tried to convince Hongjoong to sing a duet with him, he never succeeded.

But sometimes you just get stuck, unable to move.

Since Hongjoong met Seonghwa, he was stuck.

Every time he tried to design something new, his hands would move on their own to draw the same outfit, over and over again, always the same face looking up from the paper and into Hongjoong’s soul.

The man had pitch-black hair, a black piece of cloth covering the higher half of his face mimicking the way a bandana would be wrapped over his eyes.

His clothing was composed of heavy dark-colored cargo pants, a black plain shirt tucked in and held still by a thick belt. His torso was covered by a dark-colored jacket, and he was holding Escrima Sticks. Matched with heavy combat boots, the man seemed ready to attack, only waiting for a final command.

The outfit was so agonizingly familiar that Hongjoong wanted to scream every time he caught himself doing the same sketch again and again.

The only time he drew something else after the vicious cycle started was when he sketched The Captain.

He didn’t even know why he called the outfit that way, but he felt like it was right.

The Captain was a man wearing a similar piece of cloth over his eyes as his mystery man, except that he had the ado of a black fedora hat slightly tilted frontwards, in a challenge.

He wore a red and black open coat, a plain white shirt, and fitting pants. From his belt, a badge with crossed lines pattern of the size of the man’s hand hanging loosely. Black social shoes wrapped up the outfit, leaving his next actions open for interpretations. One thing Hongjoong knew: The Captain had the aura of a leader.

 

======

 

The next time Hongjoong and Seonghwa hung out in the apartment of the taller, Hongjoong discovered something unbelievable.

“Seonghwa, what the fuck is this thing?!” was the first thing the student yelled when he left the bathroom connected to Seonghwa’s room. He had been caught in the rain on his way to Seonghwa’s apartment, and the older kindly offered his shower and a change of clothes.

“What’s wrong? Hongjoong, are you okay?” the man came running, the door of his own room flying open. Thankfully, Hongjoong was already dressed, but his snow-white hair was wet and sticky everywhere.

“Hey, kid, have some manners, will ya?” in the middle of the room, a creature no bigger than a container of nail polish was floating with arms crossed and a snarky smile on their lips. It was entirely black colored, and its shape mimicked a black cat, with bright green eyes and whiskers a little too big to be proportional to its small body.

“Plagg! What are you doing here?” Seonghwa pulled Hongjoong closer to himself, shielding the younger against the small creature. Without noticing, Seonghwa was now standing in front of Hongjoong, who peered at the scene over the older’s shoulder.

“The box was boring, and I am hungry! You didn’t tell us that you’re having someone over. It’s not my fault!” another creature of the same size appeared not long after, this time it was red and had black dots over its entire body, more similar to a bug than to a cat.

“Plagg, I told you to stay insi-” the second creature stopped talking at the moment that they locked eyes with Hongjoong, who flinched back and fisted the back of Seonghwa’s shirt. “It’s you…” the creature mumbled. Seonghwa was frozen in his place, thinking in a way to deal with the situation properly.

“Who is he?” the creature, Plagg, asked, curiously. After a second look, Plagg seemed to finally understand what was happening. “Oh…” the temperature in the room seemed to fall a few degrees in a matter of seconds.

“I’ll take him outside and talk with him. Both of you, go back to the box and stay there. It’s an order,” Seonghwa finally spoke, turning around and guiding Hongjoong back to the living room. He made sure to lock his room once they left.

“What was that?” Hongjoong’s voice was small. He was still trying to understand what happened. What were those things?

“It’s a long story that I’ll tell you slowly because I don’t want to hurt you,” the younger frowned slightly, sitting on the couch, and thanking the warm cup of tea that Seonghwa had promised him before he got in the shower.

“How could it hurt me? Those things are the size of my pinky, Seonghwa! What were those?!” the older sighed soundly, running a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.

“They are kwamis,” Seonghwa bit his lower lip, eyes locked on Hongjoong’s while he weighed his next words carefully. “They are like pocket-sized gods, of some sort.”

“You must be kidding me,” Hongjoong snorted, but Seonghwa didn’t pay him enough attention, too focused on finding a way to explain things without sounding insane.

“When I was 13, my father fell ill. On my 14th birthday, he finally died,” Seonghwa started again, with a sterner tone and schooled blank expression. “My mother took over the agency and I was taught business from a young age, but we grew distant. And then the first monster attacked.”

I was already 16 when it happened. On that same morning, I had given my umbrella to a man in the street who was standing in the cold rain. I was at the door of my house, so I just gave him my umbrella so he could go home. Somehow, he slid a small box into my pocket. It had a ring inside.”

Seonghwa lifted his left hand, showing Hongjoong a thin silver ring with cat paws subtly engraved on it. Sadness was back in Seonghwa’s eyes.

“That same day, a few hours later, the first person got transformed into a monster and was manipulated to cause mass destruction. I think it was a guy who was made fun of because he couldn’t confess to his crush? I can’t remember. Anyways, it was when I met one of those creatures that you saw in my room. They give me superpowers to free those people who were transformed and controlled,” Seonghwa saw the moment when Hongjoong tried to make some sense from the situation, but not long after he started laughing as if he had heard the best joke of his life.

“Seonghwa! I brought dinner!” Siyeon’s voice was heard over Hongjoong’s laugh. The boy was bending over his stomach, face red from the absence of oxygen. “What’s so funny?” she put the bags of take-out on the counter and turned to her cousin.

“He doesn’t believe me about the existence of kwamis,” the young heir deadpanned, standing from his place on the couch.

Siyeon smiled sadly at her cousin before fussing with her hair and tying it with a lace and fixing a yellow and black hair comb at the top.

“Maybe we should just convince him,” Hongjoong took a deep breath, lifting his face to ask what the woman meant with it when she winked at him. “Pollen, buzz on!”

It took three seconds at most, in Hongjoong’s counting, but he was too baffled by what happened to make a rational comment.

In front of them stood a platinum blonde woman with a high ponytail in intertwined threads of black and platinum hair. She had on a strapless pastel yellow cropped, a white jumpsuit with black and yellow straps hanging from the pockets, she also had a belt in black and yellow pattern, the upper left side of the jumpsuit wasn’t tied, and her combat boots had yellow details similar to small bees on the sides.

Wrapping up the outfit, the lower part of her face was covered by a black mask with two yellow straps forming an “X” in the middle and she had two earrings in the form of bees in each ear.

“This is what those little creatures in my room are supposed to do, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa answered the silent question with a small smile. It had been a while since the last time Siyeon transformed into her superhero self. And she seemed to be enjoying every moment of that.

“Still doesn’t make any sense,” the younger mumbled, taking in what was happening right in front of him.

“First things first, when I’m on my superhero attire, don’t call me by my civilian name,” warned the woman, looking specifically at Hongjoong while taking a few steps to sit comfortably at the coffee table. “My superhero name used to be LadyB, but now I go by Claustrophobia, even if it’s been a while since the last time that I had to get in action. If you have any questions, shoot them now,” Hongjoong seemed to ponder for a moment before opening his mouth again.

“Why Claustrophobia? What are your powers?” by the way her eyes crinkled on the edges, Hongjoong knew she was smiling behind the mask, even so slightly.

“I can immobilize my opponent indeterminately. Claustrophobia is the fear of being trapped inside small spaces or unable to move at your will. Seemed fitting enough for my taste,” Hongjoong hummed quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt while thinking of something else to ask. After a few minutes, he had made his mind on his next question.

“What are both of you hiding from me?” he felt when Seonghwa flinched by his side, sinking on the couch and trying to make himself small. It was Siyeon who took control of the situation to make the damage control.

“We know things about you that are extremely dangerous for your mind. We are just trying to low the damage that remembering could do to you as much as we can,” she worded it too carefully for his taste, making him frown. What could have happened in his life that was so dangerous for him to remember?

“I’m not weak. I can take it,” the woman had sadness in her eyes, exactly like Seonghwa did when he first discovered that Hongjoong had lost his memories.

“We know that you aren’t, but we don’t want to take the risk, especially now that you’re happy,” it was Seonghwa who spoke, softly. He was holding a round plushie tightly, Siyeon’s sadness mirrored on his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you lose yourself again, Hongjoong. Our best bet is that you won’t ever remember the awful things that happened to you and will live happily. Even if it means that I’ll have to remove myself from your life permanently.”

“You can’t be serious,” Hongjoong couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had the right to know what happened in his life to make someone worry at that point. To make Seonghwa think that he should disappear from Hongjoong’s life forever. “It’s my life! I deserve to know!” he growled.

“Let’s make a deal, then,” Siyeon intervened, standing up again. “During a month we will tell you about some things you forgot. Important things. If we see that your memories are causing more problems than helping, we’ll drop it once for all. Deal?” it wasn’t immediate answers, neither the promise of them, but it was better than nothing.

“Deal.”

He had to try, at least.

Notes:

fun fact! the chapters are named after songs of iu's album "chat-shire"!!

Chapter 3: knees (i can't stand up anymore)

Notes:

ok here it comes some angst (and the main reason why this story exists)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The first week was led by the basics.

Seonghwa taught him about magic and the kwamis, how they were the embodiment of certain concepts and essences.

“There are two main kwamis under my protection,” he commented on Tuesday when both of them were having a catch-up at Hongjoong’s 3-rooms apartment. “The Black Cat and the Ladybug. Destruction and Creation, respectively. The two creatures you saw on my apartment the other day, they are Plagg, the kwami of destruction, and Tikki, the kwami of creation,” Hongjoong hummed without lifting his eyes from his new sketch. After the small commotion on Seonghwa’s apartment on Saturday, his creativity finally made itself known again.

After the initial shock of discovering that Siyeon could transform into a superhero with a Bee theme and her kwami was some sort of bee-like floating creature, they had called it a night and Seonghwa offered his room so Hongjoong could rest instead of making it all the way back home. The host slept on the couch that night, but Hongjoong was more than glad to finally sleep at normal hours.

“Wait, you protect those things?” the fashion designer was listening half-heartedly, knowing that he would spiral down all again if he thought about the topic too much.

“Kind of? I mean, they are tied to fashion accessories and are obliged to bend at any will of their holder. By the way, the accessories that tether them in this plane are called Miraculous,” Seonghwa had a big business book by his side, taking notes here and there like a defeated child after throwing a tantrum. If Hongjoong heard him curse at his Economics teacher, he didn’t say a thing.

“You protect the- what did you say that was the name?- the Miraculous? So, they don’t fall in wrong hands?” it sounded really stupid when said out loud, but that was the only explanation about the flying creatures from the other day that Seonghwa could give him.

“You can put it like that. I wasn’t even supposed to be the Guardian, but I had no other choice. That’s a story for another day, though,” he turned a page and let another string of curses slip his tongue. Hongjoong was amused by how Seonghwa was able to multitask with two very different topics without falling behind.

“And the story for today is…?” Seonghwa had changed from his pencil to a colored pen while doodling on the borders of his notebook.

“Kwamis,” the older answered, changing from doodling to taking notes again and groaning in frustration. “They are pocket-sized gods of specific concepts. Creation, destruction, intuition, illusion. You name it. Siyeon’s concept is submission, as you saw on Saturday. She’s a Queen Bee,” Hongjoong nodded, picking one of his colored pencils to color his sketch.

“So, she is your partner? Like, fighting against villains and all that jazz?”

“O-oh, no. I mean, we work together, but… she’s not my official partner,” he stuttered an answer and Hongjoong could see a faint blush on his cheeks. “My original and official partner was also the original Guardian, but I…” Seonghwa sighed, lowering his pen, and running a hand nervously on his hair. “They are gone. After our last battle together, huh, they left, and I had to take the responsibility.”

Hongjoong didn’t pry more, focusing on listening to what Seonghwa had to say.

He heard about a supervillain that explored people’s negative emotions and used it to take control over them, promising whatever they wanted in exchange for the Miraculous of the black cat and the ladybug.

The villain was called Nightmare, according to Seonghwa, and had the power to give superpowers to those people with negative emotions that were strong enough to be felt from wherever their hideout was.

“Even such superpower has limitations. I and my partner knew that, in order to break those people away from the mind control, we had to destroy the charm in which the akuma had placed itself,” Seonghwa turned another page of his book, using a highlighter to point out important content on his own notebook.

“Akumas are the magical butterflies that you mentioned before?” the older nodded. Hongjoong had already exchanged his sketchbook for his and Yunho’s notepad and a big mug of black coffee.

“Yep! Magical butterflies which could grant superpowers to normal people. Our luck was that Nightmare had a fairly short range for her powers…” Seonghwa froze, noticing that he had let out the Nightmare was a woman instead of some faceless person. “Fuck.”

“Ha!” Hongjoong laughed, triumphantly, before Seonghwa rolled his eyes and motioned for the next question.

“Why can’t I find anything related to it on the internet?” Seonghwa took some time to think before answering, closing his business book, and dropping his pen.

“We think that it’s because of the magic. After the last battle, most stuff online about the entire thing was wiped. Articles, videos, pics, and whatnots. Everything disappeared in a blink of an eye to never be recovered. After it, most people simply left the entire thing in the past, not bothering on bring back,” Hongjoong hummed, seemed satisfied by Seonghwa’s answer so far,

“And people? They remember?” Seonghwa stiffened, hands closing in fists and losing his careless expression.

“Some of them, yeah. A few journalists remember pieces of attacks, people who were akumatized too. Wielders of the Miraculous, on the other hand, remember almost everything. Unless they were stripped of their right for not deserving or abusing their powers,” the air shifted uncomfortably, making Hongjoong shift on his place and start fidgeting. “I think it’s better if I leave now. We can talk more later.”

After Seonghwa finally left, Hongjoong pulled another bullet journal and started writing down everything he could remember from their talk.

He had some new questions for their next hang out.

 

======

 

The second week was when things started to become dangerous for Hongjoong.

Personal information was always dangerous, but personal information that was forcibly removed from your memories was worst.

“Wait, hold the fuck up!” Hongjoong darted from the place on the couch where he was sitting to stand in front of Seonghwa.

It was Sunday, but Hongjoong was eager to get some new information and write it down in his bullet journal. He just didn’t know what kind of information he was going to get, and that was his mistake.

“I’m sorry! I just… I couldn’t hold back and…” Seonghwa seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown, but Hongjoong was the one actually frozen in place.

“You paid for my fees in another school so I could get away from my previous class… What the fuck, Seonghwa!?” said the man flinched at Hongjoong’s outburst, hugging his legs close to his chest and pressing his forehead on his knees.

“I’m sorry! I completely panicked when your parents told me, and… and you deserved so much better! I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you…” the business student seemed so small, so scared, sitting on the couch and trying to become one with the furniture. Hongjoong could see the tear in the older’s eyes, threatening to fall.

“What the hell?! I could hear you from the elevator!” Siyeon burst into the living room only to find Seonghwa blabbering apologies and Hongjoong dumbfounded staring at her cousin.

“I did nothing! I swear!” Hongjoong was feeling so damn lost.

He had heard from his parents about his old school, about the rumors of him being a bully, but couldn’t imagine that things had escalated to that.

“Seonghwa, I need you to breath with me. Hey!” Siyeon had uncurled her cousin and was guiding him through breathing exercises, in the same way that Seonghwa did with Hongjoong almost two weeks prior. She told him to inhale and hold his breath, and then to exhale slowly until he was grounded again.

Hongjoong felt awful for causing such a mess.

“He was telling me about school. About the year of high school that I lost,” Hongjoong explained, in a small voice while sitting on the floor. Seonghwa was curled by Siyeon’s side, holding into her arm like it was his lifeline.

“Ok, how much he told you?” she was dead serious while caressing her cousin’s hair, helping him to calm down.

“Just about the school fees, and then he spiraled, and I just panicked!” Hongjoong felt his own eyes sting with tears, but he couldn’t let them fall yet.

“Hongjoong, I need you to listen to me carefully and do not interrupt. It was a hell of a ride to fix the mess after you lost your memories, and I don’t want you to have an anxiety attack too, ok? So, if you feel like you can’t take anymore, just say the word and I’ll stop,” the younger of the three just nodded, watching as the woman fixed her posture. “I’ll start with when both of you met.”

I was taking an internship at my aunt’s company at that time, so I and Seonghwa spent a lot of time together when we could. He would always talk about this boy he’d met one day. About how the boy was a ray of sunshine and deserved everything good. It was you, Hongjoong.

Until the day Seonghwa told me about your school, more specifically about how a transferred student started making your academic life a living hell.

It was your first year there, so the student spread lies about you and started bullying you with one of their friends, and when you asked for help from other people, they would just fake some story about you threatening them for trying to be honest about how mean and cruel of a person you were.

Seonghwa knew the truth and got so hurt just by seeing you hurt.

I babysat you two a few times and was proved of why Seonghwa adored you so dearly and spoke so highly of you. You’re kind, passionate, and humble, Hongjoong.

Seonghwa saw it. I saw it. Hell, even Eden saw it! I know about how he loves to brag about you and your designing skills.”

Siyeon took a deep breath before blinking to hold her tears back and then turned her attention back to Hongjoong. Seonghwa had fallen asleep on her shoulder.

“You never complained about the awful things they did to you, even if Seonghwa saw it when visiting you at school after his photoshoots and tried to help you many times. You always said that they couldn’t break you, but we knew that they were close.”

When you lost your memories, Seonghwa had already taken his mother’s place as the head of the company. He spoke with your family about your memory loss and how you wouldn’t be able to keep up with your class because of it.

But he also mentioned the fact that you were bullied and that he couldn’t stand if you had to deal with all the stupidity of your classmates again.

Siyeon kept her composure, but her eyes were glassy.

Hongjoong, on the other hand, didn’t even know how to react to everything.

“Seonghwa and your parents agreed about transferring you to another school, and only allowed him to pay the fees if he could make sure that you would have reliable classmates in your new class. Of course, he could do that,” she let out a dry chuckle before turning her gazer back to her cousin. “He found a way to enroll you in the same class of one of his best friends and son of the mayor and the same school as his Olympic wrestler younger friend. You were safe and he finally got some peace of mind when we had to leave to live with my mother.”

Hongjoong didn’t answer after that, his mind shutting down from a short circuit while he was still sitting on the floor.

The next morning, he woke up laying on the couch and covered with a fluffy blanket while Siyeon cooked the breakfast.

He left before Seonghwa woke up.

 

======

 

“You look terrible,” Mingi commented, sitting by Hongjoong’s side in one of the library’s desks.

The music production major put a cup of black coffee in front of his friend and tapped the older’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. All Hongjoong did was jump on his place, slightly scared.

“Mingi? When did you get here?” the taller frowned, putting a hand on his friend’s forehead and grimacing at the warmth radiating from his skin.

“I think you have a fever. Did you eat today? Breakfast? Lunch? A snack, at least?”

“Didn’t have time. Too many things piled up,” Hongjoong mumbled back, turning a page from the book he was supposed to be taking notes from. Mingi knew he wasn’t.

Without another word, Mingi closed Hongjoong’s book and notebooks and shoved everything inside of the designer’s waterproof backpack, hanging it with his own bag on his left shoulder.

“Let’s get you something to eat, and meds for your fever. Damn, Yunho’s gonna have my head when he finds out,” Mingi pulled a pouting Hongjoong from his place, holding the man close as they left the library.

“Hongjoong-ah!” Seonghwa’s voice made Hongjoong flinch on Mingi’s arms, plastering himself against the taller’s body. “Can we talk?”

“Park Seonghwa-ssi, I don’t think my hyung wants to talk with you right now,” Mingi felt Hongjoong fist his shirt and move to stand behind the musician. Yeah, they wouldn’t be talking if he could prevent it.

Seonghwa seemed on verge of tears but nodded, tightening his hold on his bag’s strap and entering the library’s building without looking back.

Only then Mingi felt Hongjoong shaking against his back. Small tears trailed the man’s cheeks and fell from his chin.

“Let’s go home, hyung.”

Mingi ordered take-out on their way to Hongjoong’s apartment, not even once letting go of the older’s hand while maneuvering the keys of the gate or typing the password on the door.

“Mingi, I feel so heavy. My head hurts,” mumbled Hongjoong, following Mingi in the direction of the bathroom. The musician turned on the shower in lukewarm water and stripped Hongjoong from his clothes, too worried about the high fever that his friend was running to feel embarrassed at the image of him naked.

“We need to low down your fever, hyung,” Mingi smiled apologetically before shoving his friend under the water.

Hongjoong shrieked because of the cold water and tried to leave the range of the shower, but Mingi blocked his way out, holding the man still until Hongjoong stopped shivering and started looking sleepy on his feet.

Closing the faucet, Mingi helped Hongjoong into his favorite set of pajamas and guided him to sit on his bed, against the headboard. That was the only moment when Mingi left the designer alone, specifically because he had to go and pay for the takeout.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Mingi heard when entering the room again. Hongjoong’s eyes were less fogged and he seemed to be breathing better too. The designer was fidgeting with his blanket, which pooled around his waist where he was sitting.

“No need to apologize, hyung. Here. You need to eat before your meds,” Mingi placed the takeout of bibimbap on Hongjoong’s lap before offering him the chopsticks and opening his own portion.

“But, your classes?” Hongjoong asked, playing lazily with his food before stuffing a piece of cucumber into his mouth.

“I will skip as many classes as possible if it means that you will not be starving and running a fever through the university hallways. Now eat,” Hongjoong complied quietly, munching on his food and watching Mingi exchange a few texts with his boyfriend between a bite and another.

“Yunho is coming to sleep over. I need to go back to our apartment to finish a project,” Hongjoong nodded, finish his food before handing Mingi the empty container. “Feeling better?” Mingi handed him the fever medicine and he downed it with a gulp of water, before cocooning himself in between his blankets.

“Much better. Thank you,” Mingi nodded, turning off the lights of the room while taking the containers of food out.

“Rest a bit. If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room, got it?” Hongjoong didn’t answer, eyes heavy with sleepiness and mind half shutdown. He heard a chuckle and the sound of the door being closed, letting himself fall into a dreamless sleep.

 

======

 

Lee Siyeon (Claustrophobia): Seonghwa is worried about you
Did something happen?
3:45 am

You: isn’t it a little late to be texting me?
3:46 am

Lee Siyeon (Claustrophobia): I’ll assume that it’s not
Since you are answering me
3:47 am

You: i have a fever and woke up to throw up
can’t go back to sleep
what do you want?
3:49 am

Lee Siyeon (Claustrophobia): Seonghwa thinks you’re mad at him
He wants me to give you something
I’ll explain later
Saturday at that café you first went together when you met, 15h
I have some things to explain
3:55 am

 

======

 

Hongjoong could help but feel restless.

He kept shaking his leg and tapping with his fingers against the glass of the table he was sitting at. He hadn’t touched his double espresso, too anxious to care about his own caffeine intake at the moment.

“I hope you are feeling better,” Siyeon sat across from him, holding an eco-bag with what Hongjoong assumed to be books. She put the bag down by her side and her drink on the table. “Seonghwa is a nervous wreck, worried that you might hate him or something like that.”

“Why would I?” Hongjoong frowned. The cafeteria was slow, mostly because of the hour of the day. Siyeon didn’t seem to be in a rush either, besides being co-CEO of a fashion empire.

“Since he took the responsibility of being the guardian and the place as the head of his late mother company, his anxiety levels have been above the roof,” she took a sip of her frappé and offered Hongjoong a small smile. “But this is not what I came here to discuss with you today.”

“Then what?” she took a deep breath, fixing her shirt on her shoulders.

“We found a way to bring back your original memories. More like Tikki finally told us how we could do it,” she explained, taking a small velvet box from her purse and putting it in Hongjoong’s hands. “Kim Hongjoong, I offer you the chance to wield your original Miraculous again, but to be deemed deserving of its power you must follow the imposed rules,” Siyeon then moved the eco-bag closer to the man’s legs, motioning for him to take a look.

“These are…” inside of the bag, seven bullet journals were lined, but that wasn’t the reason for his surprise. Those journals were handmade by him, each one of them screaming with his signature trademark KHJ. “Where did you get these?!”

“Once you lost your memories, Seonghwa and I deemed necessary to take away everything related to the Miraculous from your life. Those are the diaries with everything you wrote down about fighting against the great evil that we once faced as heroes of Seoul. We did it to make it easier for you to move on from those awful months of fighting monsters and such.”

“You mean that I had one of those magic jewelry too?” he took one of the diaries and checked carefully for any signs of plagiarism, but there was none. It was his own handwriting.

“You did. You were one of the best of us. But I need you to listen to me carefully now,” she put a hand over his, closing the diary before he had the chance to read anything. “Those diaries are numbered. You need to read them in the right order. After you do that, you can put on your Miraculous and call your transformation. You kwami will teach you how to.”

“And how do you know that I can handle it? You said yourself that you both were worried that I couldn’t keep up, that I would end up hurt,” the woman’s eyes softened, hardness being replaced with sympathy.

“Because you, Kim Hongjoong, are a box full of surprises and I’m betting everything I have on you since day one.”

Notes:

The next chapter is (supposed to be) the last one, but I'm not sure of how long it'll take me to finish writing it. There's a lot for me to cover up and I'm trying to do it while my writer's block is on a break (i wrote 1,2k narration on my jonggi au and felt really drained after finishing) so please bear with me!

Leave your thoughts in the comments! I would love to know what you thought about the story so far!

That being said... Bugout!

Chapter 4: heart (the one i gave you)

Notes:

i said in the end-notes of the last chapter that c4 was supposed to be the last... yeah, i don't think that's happening lol sorry

Chapter Text

In the following week, Hongjoong barely had time to breathe.

With the finals crashing against him all at once, he found himself drowning in content to catch up, be it academic-wise or business-wise.

Eden wanted him to design the outfit for his next showcase, meanwhile, Hongjoong swore he poorly passed on his Art Theory exam.

Miss Kang was a pain in the ass when she wanted to be.

Hongjoong’s intake of caffeine had been twice his weight in a week, surpassing his previous score of 60kg of black coffee in two weeks. He had too many essays pilling up to have more than three hours of sleep per night.

Yunho didn’t approve his behavior in the slightest.

Alas, he was a grown-up man with enough authority to lock his friends outside of his house for as long as he wanted.

After a long week of finals, three essays and two group projects of which he thought would never end, Hongjoong let the exhaustion take the best of him, knocking him out without mercy on Friday and allowing him to wake up only at the noon on Saturday.

The bullet journals had been gathering dust on his bed for the entire week, especially with his bad habit of falling asleep on the floor of the living room when studying until late at night.

On Sunday, he finally got enough sleep and food intake to start reading the first journal

After 16 hours straight of sleep, of course.

When he opened the journal, three envelopes fell on the floor, two of them with the wax seal already

When he opened the journal, three envelopes fell on the floor, two of them with the wax seal already open and one still sealed. He sat on the floor of the living room and laid the bullet journal on the coffee table, eyes locked on the envelopes.

The first one had Seonghwa’s name on the back, the second had Siyeon’s and the third was for The Captain. All of them in his own calligraphy.

He decided to start with the ones that were already open.

 

Dear Seonghwa,
If you are reading this letter, it means that I failed you and, therefore, our mission.
I am deeply sorry.
In these journals, I compiled every information I could about all the akumas we faced and every power of every kwami kept in the Miraculous Box. I once trusted you with my life, and now I trust you with one of the biggest magic treasures of the world. I know you won’t let me down.
I’m writing this at 11 pm on April 02, one day before we put our plan in action to finally take down Nightmare once for all.
Happy birthday.
And I’m sorry.
I am sorry for being an awful friend.
I am sorry for taking so long to figure out my own feelings.
I am sorry for not being able to stay by your side.
You deserve so much better than I am was.
Tell Siyeon that she lost our bet. I definitely knew that I couldn’t live without you after all of this mess ended. It looks like I won’t have to, because I left first.
I hate the universe.
As the sole guardian of the Miraculous Box, I pass my position to you. You will inherit all the knowledge I cultivated the past two years of fighting by your side, the grimoire of the Kwami and a new grimoire magically sealed to be open only for the deserving guardian. This is all I have to offer you.
Please, live happily and enjoy your life. You deserve everything good this world has to offer.
I love you.

KHJ.

 

Hongjoong couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he started tearing up, but by the end of the letter, his vision was already too blurry for him to be able to make up the handwriting.

His chest hurt and it seemed like he couldn’t breathe properly, the lack of oxygen making him dizzy.

After ten minutes of breathing exercises, two cups of water, and a few placed pinches on his leg, Hongjoong deemed himself to be grounded enough to read Siyeon’s letter, but not as confident.

 

Our sweet Claustrophobia,
I still can’t believe that you let me choose your new heroine name or even design your new uniform. You look better than with that yellow dress, though. The jumpsuit and the cropped are much more… you.
But this is not why you are reading this letter, is it?
If you are reading this letter, it means that I failed and Seonghwa couldn’t take over the mantle of being the new Guardian. You are the only other person I trust to do it.
You always looked out for us, caring for us in your own way.
You taught Seonghwa how to use his escrima sticks, taught me how to plan and come up with strategies in the heat of the moment. You were the mastermind behind most of our victories.
You are the one who discovered who Nightmare is and how we could take them down, and I will forever be grateful for meeting you in this lifetime.
Siyeon, I hope you find love on your path after this hell finally ends tomorrow.
Be passioned.
Be kind.
Be humble.
Be you.
It was an honor to fight by your side.
Thank you.

KHJ .

 

======

 

Hongjoong woke up on the floor of his living room, with a headache threatening to burst his head open and mouth dry as if he hadn’t drunk water in days.

On his left hand, Siyeon’s letter sat neatly, the last line slightly blurred, and the paper lightly crumped where his tears had fallen in the prior night.

For the lack of a better word, Hongjoong felt drained.

He couldn’t find the strength to get up from the floor, spending at least two hours laying there, staring at the ceiling of his shoebox-sized apartment and trying to make sense of everything he read in the previous night.

Hongjoong wanted to sit back and read the letter for the damn Captain but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He was scared.

He was scared that it would turn out to be too much more than he could handle at once.

 

======

 

Hongjoong decided to ignore entirely the existence of the Captain letter in order to start reading the first bullet journal out of 7. In his head, it was better to leave the letter to be read after all the journals were read already, so that’s what he did.

For the rest of the week, Hongjoong managed to sneak his way into reading the journals in between his study sessions, the finals barely allowing him room enough to breathe before coming with full force for him once again.

If he couldn’t sleep early because of his exams before, now what kept him awake was the need to devour every bit of information from the journals.

The first thing that felt like a punch in the throat was that there were loss counts at the end of every report from an Akuma attack. It started only with commoners’ deaths, a couple of dozens on the first week, and three attacks from the day his younger self received his miraculous.

The first attack had 14 losses. A giant man of stone.

The second had 13. A girl who could control and bend the weather at her will.

The third had 25. A girl who could control dolls and, by extension, the person who the dolls looked like.

A small note in neon orange at the border of the page from the first attack called his attention before reading the next reports.

“Deaths and injuries caused by akumas are reversed once the Miraculous Cure is used and the akuma is purified.”

Needless to say, Hongjoong didn’t sleep well that night.

His mind spent the night creating and recreating the many possible scenarios for deaths caused by the attacks. The less pleasant ones were the losses caused by the stone giant.

At some point, Hongjoong had finished the first bullet journal without noticing, the sleepless nights slipping by and leaving behind only the sensation of emptiness that came with the end of his exams and the beginning of the class break.

Even if the internship was mandatory, Hongjoong wasn’t actually worried about it. He had his own business. He could always ask for Han Dong, a graduated fashion student and owner of a boutique Hongjoong knew all too well, to cover for him when the time came.

This also meant that Hongjoong had some free time to indulge himself in reading the bullet journals as much as he wanted – and his sleep-deprived brain could process.

He noticed by the end of the first bullet journal a raw sketch of his partner in the fight against evil.

Hongjoong would recognize his trace any and everywhere. The man wore the same leather jacket, the same cargo pants, and held the same escrima sticks as the nameless man on his constant stress-driven sketches at the beginning of the month.

Except that this man had a name written under the raw sketch.

Khaos.

A short search online came up with the Greek entity of the creation and destruction altogether, known for being the first being in the universe before the apparition of Gaea, Eros, and Tartarus. In Hongjoong’s interpretation, Khaos was basically why the universe existed in the first place.

Hongjoong pushed the thoughts of Seonghwa being Khaos to the back of his mind and jumped head-first in the reading of the second journal. He made notes here and there about certain akumas that seemed to emerge more than once and the reasons behind their powers.

After the first 53 pages, a new hero was introduced into the team, even if it was temporary.

On the report of March 23rd of 2015, there was a 3x4 picture clipped to the border of the page with a boy with fox-y ears poking from the top of his hair, which was divided into being pitch black at the top, but blonde underneath. His face, just like the Captain’s and Khaos’ had the upper half covered by a fox mask in the most traditional way. The white mask had a crescent moon drawn in dark orange on the forehead. There were three pencil streaks in each side of the mask to mimic whisks and the eyes were covered by a white cover, even if the place where they were supposed to be was drawn on the material, adorned with faint tones of orange, black and red.

The upper body of the boy was adorned by a not-tied robe that Hongjoong soon recognized as a Yukata, an article of traditional Japanese clothing used in casual occasions such as summer festivals or bathhouses in Japan. The clothing was white, adorned with asymmetric lines over all of its extension in the most exuberant tones of red, orange, black, and faint gray.

Under the Yukata, the boy had on a white shirt half-tucked into his worn-out jeans and sneakers, a black flute on his right hand, and a pendant with a foxtail hanging from his neck. And he was jumping from a roof.

 

Alias: Kitsune
Ability: Creation of illusions on large scale; voice mimic.
Kwami: Trixx, the fox
Miraculous: Necklace
Age: 15 years old
Status: Temporarily Active

 

Hongjoong’s breath hitched when he read the last line.

 

Name: Jung Wooyoung

======

 

“I feel betrayed,” was the first thing Wooyoung said when he flopped on Hongjoong’s couch that night.

Hongjoong refused to keep reading the journal before talking with Wooyoung about using a miraculous. He needed to know why the younger had never talked about the matter before.

The young dancer agreed to sleep over in order to help his hyung to understand why he had a miraculous at such a young age.

“I am the one who should feel betrayed here!” whined Hongjoong, laying his head on his friend’s lap. It didn’t take long for Wooyoung to get the memo and start running his fingers through the older’s hair.

“In my defense, Seonghwa hyung took Trixx after our last battle, so I didn’t really have a reason to bring up the topic when you were around. Amnesia and such, ya’ know?” Hongjoong hummed in response, clearing processing the info while his brain ran out of caffeine. “I still can’t believe he didn’t call me as soon as he came back. Siyeon had to handle Trixx back to me because, and I quote, “Seonghwa is too busy mopping around to handle back the Miraculous”. The guy didn’t even land and is already lovesick?! Oh, c’mon!”

“Can you tell me about it? About the miraculous thing? I could use some unbiased info right now,” Wooyoung seemed to consider the wish before nodding. He quietly prodded a necklace out of his shirt. The fox’s necklace.

“It calls for a third source of info, if you get what I say,” teased the boy, a slight smirk on his lips. “Trixx, you can come out. It’s safe.”

After hearing chuckling and some shuffle, an orange ball of fur floated in front of Hongjoong’s eyes, nearly touching the tips of his nose while at it. The creature had the appearance of a tiny fox, with the tips of its tail and ears painted in black and its belly was white.

“Hi! I am Trixx, the kwami of the Illusion! It’s a pleasure to finally see you again, Kim Hongjoong,” the tiny thing had purple irises and a high-pitched voice, too much smugness hidden in their actions and too friendly for their own good. A truly fit for Wooyoung, Hongjoong had no doubt.

“Hello, Trixx. It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” the kwami smiled, bowing slightly before finding themselves a comfortable place to sit on Hongjoong’s chest.

“Hongjoong, I would like to warn you that we have no permission to share information about other holders of the miraculous. I can only share so much about my powers and Wooyoung’s abilities,” Trixx informed, receiving an appreciative smile as an answer.

“I don’t mind. I just want to know why in the world I would give Wooyoung a Miraculous. I mean, being a hero is dangerous as fuck. I can’t believe I put you through it when you were still a teenager,” Hongjoong lifted his eyes to meet Wooyoung’s, who seemed to think a bit too carefully about his words. That wasn’t like Wooyoung, at all.

“The first time you did it, you didn’t actually put me in any danger. You lent me the fox miraculous so I could help you on your plan against the Bubbler, a guy with the power to create indestructible bubbles that could trap anything and anyone inside. And… well, I was supposed to be a coy,” Hongjoong jerked up from his place, staring at Wooyoung incredulously. He couldn’t have been that irresponsible. He would never forgive himself if… “Hongjoong-hyung, hey! Look at me!” Wooyoung held the older by his shoulders, eyes locked and trying to ground the designer as swiftly as possible.

“Wooyoung-ah…”

“You lent me the Miraculous, so I could provide a Mirage of me as a distraction. You kept me safe, hyung,” Wooyoung’s tone was stern, and yet soft. It sounded like when your older sibling scolds you and help you fix something you broke before your parents discover it.

“You did a very wise choice at that time, Hongjoong,” it was Trixx’s voice. The kwami made themselves comfortable at the top of Wooyoung’s hair, arms crossed in front of their body. “Out of millions of people in Seoul, you managed to handle me to one of my kids, a true holder of the fox miraculous.”

“What Trixx means is that you connected us in the right moment in the right way. We are kind of in sync? I don’t know how to explain it, you’re the one who got the way with words, not me,” Trixx left the nest of messy hair on the top of Wooyoung’s head to float in between the boys. Wooyoung slowly let go of Hongjoong’s arms, opting to hold his hands instead.

“And what Wooyoung means with that,” the kwami eyed Wooyoung joyfully before turning back to Hongjoong. “Kwamis, while not beings of your living plane, can sense the soul of their holders. The more harmonized with our holders, the better. One in a handful of our holders can be the true ones, but there’s a large gap of time between a holder and another.”

“Like a vibe check,” Wooyoung jokes, and Hongjoong wants to groan because of the bad pun, but he’s also relieved that his anxiety seemed to have slowed down.

“And why do true holders exist? I thought that the miraculous was just given to people with good intentions,” Hongjoong was curious. He hadn’t seemed anything related to the Miraculous Lore in the diaries yet, or maybe he hadn’t got to the point where he started to learn about them.

“The first time we, kwamis, fused the humans, we weren’t compatible. In order to be able to unify with you, we gave our holders the signature of our powers, and their souls started a cycle of living and dying through eternity. True holders are the ones capable of unlocking our full potential,” Trixx seemed too wise for their small size, and even more of the appearance of a key-chain toy.

“And Wooyoung is the one with the same potential as a fox because…?” Wooyoung had a small smirk plastered on his face. The same kind of smirk Hongjoong learned to fear when they were in middle school and the Jung started spilling nonsense about how Hongjoong and he should skip classes on that day.

It always ended up with some bully facing the school’s principal with too many videos and audios as proof and some (various) cases of expelling.

“Because I am the kwami of Illusion,” Trixx started. “Someone who uses my power must be able to make things look like they want, but also must pursue the truth and the right path on their lives. The true holder of the fox necklace must have a straight mind and the heart in the right place.”