Chapter Text
Kevin thinks he might finally be able to get some rest soon, even if it’s more because he’s about to pass out from exhaustion.
The day after the gruesome six hour battle, the warlock teams flee from the Spirit World before human authority can catch onto what they’ve done. The Baek family, ever the blessed angels that they are, offer up two of their private hospitals for the injured. An unspoken rule is spread between the teams, a general rule of thumbs to take care of their own first, and aid others only when they can. Snow Queen, who Kevin learns to be Jinsoul, managed to convince many of Prestige’s support to come and aid in the recovery, the academy apparently well versed in secret operations away from the government’s eyes. Kevin supposes it’s just useful to have rich people on your side.
His mother shows up when dawn broke, and Kevin expected a stern lecture and sharp insults, only to be greeted with a tearful embrace. Moon Enterprises donates millions to the rebuilding effort in the Spirit World, a secret portion of it used for treatment for the warlock teams. Most of the academies have turned a blind eye to their students' disappearance, claiming they were in class when they weren’t when asked by the government. It seems everyone was in the interest of protecting them.
Kevin sighs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes, as he crews the cap of a bottle of wound cleanser, tucking away a cloth onto a nearby tray. In front of him, Juyeon is moving his arm experimentally, trying to see if his elbow hurts anymore from scrapping it back in the fight. Kevin rubs his eyes, blinking rapidly as he tries to stop the exhaustion.
“To quote you,” Juyeon begins, a grimace on his face. "‘Go to sleep, little one’.”
Kevin barks a laugh, hollow and full of exhaustion. Juyeon winces, resting a hand over Kevin’s tenderly. Some part of Kevin thinks back to his high school day, when Juyeon was simply the best thing in Kevin’s world. It seems he’s not allowed to catch a break.
“When’s the burial ceremony, by the way?” Kevin asks. Normally, he’d be on top of things, planner full of important notes. But then again, Kevin hasn’t even given himself a moment to rest for the last… forty hours? Fifty hours?
Resting meant Kevin would have to face reality, after all, and reality has nothing to offer him at this point.
“It’s in two hours,” Juyeon sighs, defeated. "You should go get a shower. I’ll get one of your suits for you, if you want.”
Kevin nods, appreciating his friend’s gesture. Juyeon stands to leave, beckoning Kevin to join him. The moment they step out of the hospital, a wave of fresh air washes over Kevin, nearly making his knees buckle. Juyeon catches him, a soothing hand on Kevin’s back as a choked sob leaves his throat.
Reality catches up, and Kevin can’t feel the reassuring warmth of his contract mark anymore. The buzz of adrenaline keeping him going has dispersed at this point, leaving with the winds as Kevin’s knees buckle, falling into Juyeon’s hold as he sobs.
“He’s gone,” Kevin whispers, voice broken. The wind is cold on his weary bones as Juyeon hoists him up, wrapping Kevin in a tight hug. He doesn’t say anything, brand of comfort preferring to just let Kevin cry his emotions out. Somehow, Kevin is grateful for it, just allowing his beyond exhausted body release his pent up emotions. He feels like a lonely bird in a hurricane, watching as his fellow fowls fly away in pairs, happy and relieved the worst is over. Some are mourning the loss of comrades, family and lovers, probably echoing Kevin’s own pain, but he can’t see a single one of them. He’s left alone, once again, rooted in place and unable to move on.
“Do you wanna get some food later?” Juyeon asks, gentle and comforting. "By that Japanese place near the school?”
Kevin purses his lips, wiping his tears as he nods shakily. A hot meal would be nice right about now, Kevin thinks. But he has the funeral to get through first.
“We’re here for you, Kev,” Juyeon whispers, ruffling Kevin’s messed up locks gently. Kevin believes him, but it doesn’t feel any less lonely.
The funeral went about just as well as it could’ve. They honor human and spirit losses alike, numbering surprisingly low thanks to Sunwoo and Jacob’s valiant sacrifices. Sunwoo isn’t on the list of dead bodies today, still passed out in a coma back at the Baek’s private hospital. Kevin found Eric slumped over a chair next to his bed earlier, fast asleep. He decides to let him be. The rest of the team makes the funeral anyway.
Sangyeon leads the proceedings along with Red Velvet’s spirit guide, a tall woman named Irene. They read out short one sentence summaries of each individual, submitted by the individual’s team. Every team seems to have lost someone, which means the air is as sombre as it gets.
They do the proceedings in the Spirit World, by the banks of the same river the Spirit Council sent their king down in a Viking-style burial, sending bodies off on rafts. Flowers decorate the side of every raft, some even carrying pictures of an individual if they couldn’t recover the body. Younghoon had been given the honor of firing the first arrow to burn the rafts, lighting the cloudy sky with soft embers of orange as the bodies trailed downstream.
Jacob’s raft was the first one to be released, everyone agreeing on his sacrifice being one of the strongest, so Kevin had little time to pick out the flowers and photos for him. It didn’t take long, anyway. The red and white tulips are beautiful as they burn away, a symbol for undying love and forgiveness as Kevin feels his soul leave with the raft. It just simply hurts in ways Kevin can’t explain, painful yet numbing at the same time.
Jaehyun catches Kevin crying and steers him to the back of the crowd, gently rubbing soothing circles into his back as Kevin sobs his eyes out. Even the sky seems to share their sympathy, opening its arms as a downpour welcomed the rafts. An hour passes by in relative silence, save for the almost haunting melody the wind casted in their ear. If Kevin listened closely, he could almost feel Jacob’s comforting whispers from that one fateful night a year and a half ago. Kevin craves his warmth again, craves the simple comfort that came from a single smile he’ll never get to see again.
Kevin is a flower petal in the downpour now, lit on fire by the pool of grief in his stomach.
“It’ll be okay,” Jaehyun whispers in Kevin’s ear, rubbing his arms affectionately.
“One day, it’ll be okay.”
Kevin wants to believe him.
Jacob knows he’s dead.
He knows with overwhelming certainty that he’s dead, from the ashen taste on his tongue to the weight of his own body—or the lack thereof, but he can’t fathom why he can still remember his own name right now. Jacob blinks, pushing himself up as he lets lights through his eyelids. With a groan, Jacob finds himself back in the stone chamber he died in, except there’s a glowing aura to his body.
“I want to thank you,” a voice calls out, gentle and gratifying. Jacob whips his head to the source of the voice, to find Younghoon in front of him. Wait, no, this isn’t Younghoon. He’s similar, true, but subtle differences jump at Jacob in every way. With a start, Jacob recognizes the figure.
“Your Majesty,” Jacob mutters. The Spirit King chuckles, shaking his head.
“No need to call me that,” the King assures, a smile on his face. "We are all equal in death.”
Jacob grimaces. “I… can’t go back, can I?”
The Spirit King nods solemnly, although his smile doesn’t quite fade. Jacob frowns.
“Why are you smiling?” Jacob asks, confused. The King doesn’t say anything, only gesturing vaguely to the archway beside him.
“Sometimes,” the king begins. "When you can’t go backwards, it’s simply better to move forwards. Our world is much more circular than you think, little one.”
Jacob stares dumbly, trying to decipher the King’s meaning. “What… are you saying?”
“I’ll make you a deal, Jacob,” the King says firmly. "A lifetime’s worth of memories to carry into your next Shadow and Spirit reincarnations, if you promise to never break that poor mortal’s heart.”
Jacob’s eyes widen, confusion in the pit of his stomach. “R-reincarnation?” Jacob asks, bewildered. The King smiles a little brighter.
“Your friend deciphered it. Spirits are simply cleansed versions of Shadows. In a similar vein, Shadows are created when Spirits die. It’s our world’s way of making sure the two populations always stay balanced, no matter how many wars we go through,” the King explains. Jacob stares at him dumbly, bewildered as he finally realizes what’s happening.
“That’s what happened to Haknyeon, wasn’t it?” Jacob guesses. "Whatever Shadow died back then… offered itself in Spirit form for him? It… it’s how I can get back to…”
Jacob trails off, a smile on his face as he runs to the King, wrapping him in a tight hug. The king chuckles lightly as Jacob whispers rushed ‘thank you’s to him, practically sprinting to the archway to be reincarnated. Before he can leave, the King clears his throat.
“You haven’t promised yet,” the King points out. "One lifetime’s memories for two reincarnations, but you can’t break his heart.”
Jacob turns back with a smile. “I’d never let myself live if I did, but I swear I’ll never break Kevin’s heart ever again.”
Kevin doesn’t believe his eyes.
It’s been a month since that day, the soft blanket of snow of December enveloping Creker Academy in white. Kevin steps out from the school’s front steps, frowning as he tries to peek over the large crowd outside. They’re all some levels of shocked, whispering furiously to each other as Kevin pushes himself through. A snowflake rests onto his nose as Kevin steps through to the other side, breaking into the cold air as he gasps.
Standing in the middle of the courtyard, under the soft gray clouds and falling snowflakes is a beautiful boy Kevin knows he’s seen before. Previously brown hair is replaced with platinum blond, but the gentle features on Jacob’s faces are unmistakable to Kevin’s gaze of disbelief. A choke grates at the back of his throat as Kevin ignores all sense of logical reasoning and bolts across the courtyard. Jacob spots him coming with a soft smile, catching Kevin in his arms as their lips crash together. Under any other circumstances, Kevin would’ve probably felt silly for the almost cliche reunion, but he can’t think about anything but feeling how solid Jacob is in his hold.
Kevin chokes back a sob, burying his face in Jacob’s collarbones.
“You’re back,” Kevin mutters, relieved. Jacob smiles, brushing a snowflake out of Kevin’s fringe as he pulls him in for another kiss. His lips are warm, in contrast to the cold, listless touch to Kevin’s skin for the past month. Kevin’s chest squeezes, relief and ecstasy drumming in his veins. In the back of his mind, Kevin wonders if it was even possible to describe how he was feeling. It feels like coming home, like finding an oasis in the middle of a desert, or the first warm flickers of warmth by a campfire on a freezing winter night.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” Jacob whispers, trying to launch into some apology and Kevin scowls, shutting him up with a forefinger to the lips.
“No apologies. You can explain later,” Kevin mumbles, feeling joy hum through his veins. His heart soars, body feeling like it’s on cloud nine as he pulls Jacob into a tight hug, not caring for the cheering crowd behind him. Jacob chuckles, the light action grounding to Kevin as a tear rolls down his cheek. He feels like a fish who finally found its way back home after being swept away in a storm, back where he belongs.
“I love you,” Jacob whispers, soft and comforting. Kevin squeezes just a little harder. He won’t let go. He’ll never let Jacob go again.
“I love you too,” Kevin whispers.
And it’s on the white afternoon that the final chapter of twelve souls’ story ends. They find relative peace afterwards, carried on each other’s shoulders as they walk down the golden path so painstakingly won. The human world doesn’t remember them for their true sacrifice, sure, but it’s impossible to say the same for the Spirit World. Their tale becomes legend, living forever in the leather bound books and endless gratitude of magic itself, for they ended a never ending war. It was never just them, sure, but history remembers only those most important.
Written on the swirling black ink is the finale of a tale of love, brotherhood and determination, one truly to last forever.
And this, dear readers, is the end of the tale of twelve blooming hearts.