Chapter Text
Cheonhee was not suprised.
Of course they couldn’t just knock on his door like normal people.
The sun had barely cleared the mountains peaks when the distant sound of shattering tiles jolted him from his tranquil morning tea. He waited with a cup halfway to his lips, as a second crash echoed through the courtyard. Then a dull THUMP. Followed by distant yelling. Then silence.
“…just five more seconds please,” Cheonhee muttered. He counted under his breath.
One. Two. Three:
CRACK!
His door slammed open. Hyeon stumbled in backwards, clutching a loosely tied sash and a handful of herbs that were very clearly not his. Hot on his heels came Halyun, face set in that calm but murderous expression he reserved exclusively for sibling-related grievances.
Cheonwoo arrived last.
Through the window.
Not the doorway. Not the corridor. The window.
“Good morning,” Cheonwoo smiled brightly, lightly dusting debris from his sleeves as if he hadn’t just vaulted through glass. “Nice day for a sibling reunion, isn’t it?”
Hyeon looked like he’d bitten into something sour. “Not when your 'reunion’ involved throwing an entire flower pot at my head.”
“It missed though, didn’t it?” Cheonwoo beamed.
“Only because I ducked,” Hyeon seethed
“Unfortunately.”
Despite everything, despite the blood on the windowsill, the faint scent of singed talismans, and the distinct sound of someone’s sword still humming faintly in the hallway, Cheonhee let out a slow, quiet breath.
They were undeniably calmer now.
If this had been in the novel, each of their mindsets would have been “an eye for your whole family.” Espionage, collapsing pavilions, lifelong vendettas carved in jade. But here, their methods were… arguably less fatal. Marginally more domestic and...
Petty, even.
The recent one-upmanship if gift basket had been a perfect example.
“I see you’re all still alive,” Cheonhee said dryly, setting down his teacup.
Cheonwoo opened his mouth with a grin.
“Barely,” Hyeon cut in.
Cheonwoo looked personally affronted. “Barely? I’m in peak condition. I climbed a two-story tiled roof with one hand full of peaches.”
"Ha! So you have enough shame to I was talking about you," Hyeon smirked.
“Well, you fell through the roof,” Cheonwoo bit out.
“A dramatic entrance.”
“It was a hole.”
“Well-”
“Enough,” Cheonhee said, louder this time. Massaging the bridge of his nose he continued, “Do you know why I called you all here?”
All three pointed somewhere vaguely in the direction of his desk.
Cheonhee followed their gaze to the table, where the earlier gifts still sat untouched: a carefully sorted medicinal herb basket, the enchanted bracelet set, and the new acupuncture needles. He gave them a long look, then looked back at his brothers. Their eyes seemed to light up with anticipation.
“…You’re still fighting over yesterday’s gifts?”
“No,” Hyeon said.
“Yes,” Cheonwoo said at the same time.
Halyun stayed silent, but his expression very clearly said 'I only lost because the corridor was narrow'.
Cheonhee exhaled again. This time, with a little more weight.
Was this what brotherhood was supposed to be like?
Fistfights at dawn. Window entries. Custom-engraved weaponry gifted with the same treatment as a market fruits.
Yet when he looked at the mess they left in their wake, the cracked tile, the torn sleeve, the herb sprigs still sticking out of Hyeon’s hair, there was something oddly grounding in it.
Chaotic, violent, over-the-top affection. But affection, nonetheless.
Cheonhee rubbed at his temple. “I’m going to drink my tea now. If you’re going to destroy anything else, do it quietly.”
“Would a spar be too loud?” Halyun asked seriously.
“Yes,” Cheonhee sighed.
Cheonwoo grinned. “What if we don't break the roof tiles this time?”
“I just fixed the roof,” Cheonhee said.
“Then think of this as maintenance,” Cheonwoo offered helpfully.
Cheonhee stared at them. Long and flat as a throbbing sensation began in the back of his head.
But despite the perpetual promises of headaches and broken furniture, he never found himself telling them to leave.