Archive of Our Own

“When are you going to leave?” Renjun scowls at Donghyuck from where he is seated by the window, a thick book propped open in his lap.

“I just got here!” Donghyuck protests. “I’m bored, let’s go out and do something.”

Thursday afternoons are always suffocating. It’s frustrating for Donghyuck, especially because the weekend is just around the corner but not quite there yet. There’s also nothing particularly interesting to do; not when all that the people from his Clan seem to enjoy doing is staying indoors. It’s ironic, because out of the five Clans across Pangaea, the Earth Yielders have the strongest connection with nature. On days like this, Donghyuck catches himself envying his peers from the Light Clan who often have outings together. He’s particularly on edge today, his Yielding energy racing around his body, begging to be released.

At the start of the week, there is always homework to be completed. Their theoretical classes—Pangaean History, Geography, Politics and the like—are scheduled earlier in the week and their professors always swamp them with homework. Whilst homework is neither ideal nor fun to complete, it keeps Donghyuck busy and his curiosity at bay. Towards the end of the week, they have more free time, as their Yielding professors are kinder and never assign any homework for their practical classes. Despite this, Donghyuck’s friends from the other Clans always seem particularly busy on these days, scattering in all directions the moment class ends. Today is no exception.

Renjun raises an eyebrow and thrusts his book towards Donghyuck. “I’m busy. I need to read this.”

On the cover of the book, it says, in large print: ‘The Foundations of Healing: Basic Techniques’.

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “You’re no fun at all!” he exclaims. “Come on, you have all weekend to read that. Let’s go out and enjoy the sunshine!”

“I can’t,” Renjun shakes his head, “My parents are in town this weekend. I got permission to stay with them for a few nights.”

Donghyuck huffs loudly and flops onto the lower bunk bed dramatically. It would be nice if his parents visited too, but they’re always busy working, so he only sees them during the holidays when he travels back to the Earth Clan with Renjun and Yerim. He nibbles on his bottom lip, entertaining the thought of sneaking out to join Renjun and his family. He voices this idea idly.

But Renjun reacts violently, lurching to his feet. “No way! You’ll get me in trouble too.” He stalks towards Donghyuck to tug him off the bed. “Don’t lay there for too long. Jaemin doesn’t like it when people touch his bed.”

“Look we’re all friends, he can handle some of my germs,” Donghyuck replies nonchalantly, clinging onto the edge of Jaemin’s bed.

He doesn’t remember what it is like to have a roommate, but it must be nice to have someone’s company, to have somebody to chat to after curfew. Maybe if the Institution assigned him a new roommate, he wouldn’t be this bored. Although it has been over a year since Donghyuck’s old roommate moved out, Donghyuck continues to struggle with adjusting to the constant silence in his dorm room. It’s excruciating, being confined to the silence that fills every corner of his room.

He used to share a room with Moonyeol, an older boy from the Fire Clan, who tolerated Donghyuck’s verbosity, unlike his first roommate back when Donghyuck was completing his Intermediate Yielding training. When they first met, Donghyuck was in his first year of Advanced Yielding, while Moonyeol was in his third and final year.

Throughout the single year that they roomed together, although Moonyeol never joined in on Donghyuck’s antics, they maintained a comfortable relationship. Donghyuck often finds himself missing their late night conversations about their future, their dreams and aspirations. Moonyeol was particularly ambitious for his age and it was always interesting to hear about where he envisioned himself to be after finishing his Yielding training.

With a particularly sharp tug, Renjun successfully drags Donghyuck off Jaemin’s bed. He doesn’t hesitate to push Donghyuck out of the doorway.

“Why don’t you join Jaemin? He’s out in the sun practising his Yielding. That’s something exciting for you to do,” Renjun drawls, with a hint of the familiar lilt that is distinctive to their home dialect.

Renjun’s door clicks shut before Donghyuck can reply. His face scrunches in disgust at the thought of joining Jaemin.

“No thanks, we spend all of our time training. I want to do something different,” Donghyuck mutters to himself, turning on his heels.

He strolls down the hallway to visit his other friends. But of course, both Mark and Jeno are missing from their respective rooms. The dormitory is oddly quiet for a Thursday afternoon and Donghyuck finds himself wondering what he is missing out.

On his way back to his room, he runs into Mark’s cousin, Taeyong. They exchange pleasantries, sharing a fist bump. Then, to Donghyuck’s satisfaction, Taeyong welcomes him into his room. Taeyong’s roommate Doyoung, an older Air Yielder that Donghyuck is also friends with, is nowhere to be seen.

“What are you up to?” Taeyong asks pleasantly.

“Oh, not much,” Donghyuck replies, fiddling with the brown leaves of the pot plant that sits on Doyoung’s desk. He glances at Taeyong over his shoulder, “I’m kind of bored actually.”

The plant perks up at Donghyuck’s touch, murmuring excitedly. A soft green light glows from his palm when he channels some of his Yielding energy into the plant. As he twirls his hand around the plant, the leaves turn green. They flutter as the stem extends, growing in the direction of Donghyuck’s hand. He blushes profusely when he notices Taeyong watching him with a soft smile.

“Are you free to hang out?” Donghyuck asks, his voice hopeful.

Taeyong shakes his head, “I’m afraid not. I’ve got a bunch of paperwork to sift through. We've been making great progress down at the labs with our research and it’s important to document all of it.”

Taeyong had finished his Advanced Yielding training five years ago, graduating with impressive grades and a medal that acknowledges his excellent Water Yielding abilities. These days, he spends most of his waking hours at the laboratory, researching and developing new technology. His latest project involves integrating Yielding energy with the current system to supply power to the regions in Pangaea that still lacks access to effective power systems.

It’s all quite complicated and Donghyuck doesn’t fully understand what exactly Taeyong’s team is doing. All he knows is that if Taeyong and his colleagues are successful, their work will change many lives. His chest swells with pride at the thought of his older friend. It makes Donghyuck wonder what he will be doing with his time when he finishes his final year of Advanced Yielding at the end of this year.

“Doyoung’s going to be very impressed when he comes back,” Taeyong comments, interrupting his train of thought. He nods at the plant when Donghyuck gives him a puzzled look. “You’re very talented,” he praises warmly. “Doyoung has been very frustrated at its slow growth over the past fortnight.”

The plant looks significantly healthier, its leaves greener and stem taller. Donghyuck beams at Taeyong, “It tells me it wants more sunlight.” The leaves rustle and Donghyuck hears the plant murmur again. “Oh, and definitely more water.”

Much like his roommate, Doyoung spends a lot of his time in the laboratory. After completing his years of mandatory Yielding training, he dived straight into research and engineering. His interests lay in designing equipment for Fieldwork agents, from transmitting devices to suits that allows a Yielder to preserve their energy, to portable shields. Four years on, much like Taeyong, Doyoung has a well-established career and a number of achievements under his belt.

Lately, he has been particularly interested in Hover technology and has been talking everyone’s ears off about his newest Hovercraft and Hoverboard prototypes for months.

Donghyuck’s friends always swarm around Doyoung like he’s some sort of hero, clinging onto every word that comes out of his mouth. But Donghyuck is convinced that Doyoung is bluffing. He scratches his chin, deep in thought. Today is a good day to verify Doyoung’s work himself.

“It’s fascinating how you can hear them,” Taeyong chuckles, running a hand through Doyoung’s healthier looking plant. “Maybe you should drop by the greenhouse and give Jungwoo a hand sometime.”

“Maybe,” Donghyuck echoes. He cheeks bunches sweetly and he flashes Taeyong his best smile. “I need to see Doyoung first though. Any idea where I might be able to find him?”

Taeyong reciprocates the smile and supplies helpfully, “He’s down at his lab today. Level two, third door on the left.”

Donghyuck doesn’t need any reminding because he spends a good portion of his time down in Doyoung’s lab with him. But he thanks Taeyong anyway, politely, and heads off.

Sure enough, Donghyuck finds Doyoung cooped up at his desk, diligently scribbling into his notebook. He raps on the glass door but Doyoung barely spares him a speck of attention, no more than a single glance. So naturally, he invites himself in. Doyoung grunts at him when he saunters into the lab. He doesn’t snap at Donghyuck like he usually does, so Donghyuck accepts it as permission to stay.

Donghyuck strolls around the lab, poking at Doyoung’s impressive collection of transport models that sits at the top of a tall bookshelf, where an equally impressive set of books live. He fiddles with a small model train that looks identical to the new Magnetic Levitation train installed in the Earth Clan’s City centre late last year. Yerim had been bouncing with excitement at the sight of the new train system when their parents had brought them out to the City over the recent holidays.

He wanders around some more and after a while, he finds the very thing what he wants to see.

“Say, Doyoung.”

At his voice, his older friend turns slowly in his wheelie chair, face impassive. Donghyuck grins at him and gestures vaguely to the set of boxes lined up along the floor, each with the label ‘Hoverboard Prototype VII’ printed in Doyoung’s neat block writing.

“Can I have a look? You keep talking about them but none of us have actually verified your work. Is it really as great as you make it sound?”

A look of horror spreads across Doyoung’s face.

“No way!” Doyoung declines firmly. “You’re the last person I would show the prototypes to. Who knows what you’d do with them?” He corners Donghyuck and for the second time that day, Donghyuck finds himself being edged out of the doorway.

Donghyuck tries to push past him, but Doyoung towers over him. “Why? I would never touch something so important without permission!” he whines, but Doyoung has already locked the door.

He sits by the door and waits for Doyoung to change his mind. But a few window condensation drawings later—hearts and smiley faces of various sizes—he realises that Doyoung will not give in so easily. So he resorts to drumming against the glass door with his fingers.

Eventually, Doyoung throws the door open in defeat.

“When will you stop being annoying?” Doyoung scowls down at him.

“When you let me in.”

“You’re insufferable,” Doyoung hisses, gesturing inside the room. “Get in. You snuck in here yourself if anyone asks.” He rolls his eyes fondly when Donghyuck cheers.

“Yes sir!” Donghyuck ambles past him, face smug. His jaw drops at the sight of the prototypes on Doyoung’s table. “Wow, you weren’t bluffing!”

“Of course not,” Doyoung scoffs.

A slow grin spreads across Donghyuck’s face.

At this, Doyoung narrows his eyes. “No touching.”

Spending time with Doyoung turns out to be a terrible idea.

It’s not that Doyoung is bad company, but rather, the multitude of ideas that conveniently planted itself in Donghyuck’s busy mind after spending time with his older friend.

Donghyuck had spent his whole afternoon in the labs with his hands tucked in his lap, itching to get his hands on Doyoung’s Hoverboards. It was almost painful having to hold himself back.

The ideas revolving around Doyoung’s prototypes keeps him up all night. He tosses and turns, thinking endlessly. Before he knows it, the sun is rising. He manages to catch a quick nap but he doesn’t wake up on time for his first class.

Twenty minutes after his Yielding class was scheduled to begin, Donghyuck stumbles into the Yielding practice room, his socks mismatching and his hair an utter mess. The apology for his tardiness dies on the tip of his tongue when he realises that class has not started yet. By sheer luck, Professor Oh is even later than him today. He sighs in relief and searches the room, weaving past other Earth, Air, and Fire Yielders to find his friends.

“Look who decided to turn up early today. Fancy seeing you,” Jaemin drawls as Donghyuck approaches them. “That is one impressive bird’s nest.” He ruffles Donghyuck’s bed hair.

Donghyuck swats away Jaemin’s hand feebly. “I had a grand plan before bed,” he yawns, “My mind was whirring so fast I couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m sure any idea to get us all in trouble is grand enough to lose sleep over,” Renjun snorts, reaching up to ruffle Donghyuck’s hair as well.

“Well, this next adventure better be as grand as you’re promising. I’m looking forward to what you have to say at lunch now.”

Before he has the chance to reply to Jaemin, Professor Oh appears. The class falls silent as their professor strides to the front of the class.

“I have just been informed of some important changes to your training program,” Professor Oh announces. “As a new requirement for your Yielding competency has been introduced, your Yielding precision will be re-assessed today.”

The class groans in protest. Professor Oh’s face remains impassive at their reaction, but he continues in a stern voice. “You might be a good month into your final year of Advanced Yielding, but do not become cocky and careless. Fine control of your Yielding energy is critical to improving and maintaining your Yielding precision.”

Renjun sighs heavily beside him. Donghyuck shifts to pat his back empathetically, feeling significantly more awake than he had been a minute ago. They’re instructed to move towards the Simulation room, where their precision exams will be held. His peers file out of the room slowly and Renjun trails after Donghyuck dejectedly.

“I’m so sick of these exams,” Renjun hisses under his breath. He kicks at the pebbles lining the gardens as they cross the courtyard. Donghyuck hums in agreement, rubbing his clammy palms against his pants.

It is expected that they will complete this exam with ease; after all, they had trained their Yielding precision throughout their three years of Intermediate Yielding. Prior to progressing to Advanced Yielding, it had been made clear that Yielding precision should be mastered by then, as it became a prerequisite to continue their training.

He loses sight of Renjun when Professor Oh herds them into the room and instructs them to gather around the large screens in the spectator area. With the Water and Light Yielders joining them for the exam, it becomes awfully hard to spot his friends among the forty or so other Yielding students who are also completing their final year of Advanced Yielding. Before he catches sight of Renjun again, Jeno snags him by his shirt and pulls him to the side.

“Wow, you look terrible,” Jeno comments as Donghyuck shifts to stand in line with him.

Mark appears from Donghyuck’s right and peers at his face. “Did you even sleep?”

Donghyuck waves them off. “Don’t be silly. Of course I did.” They look unconvinced but do not pry any further.

The class falls silent again, turning to face Professor Oh.

“You each have three attempts. If your performance is still unsatisfactory, you will attend additional classes after school and you will have one chance to re-sit. If you fail a second time, Professor Cha and I will have to discuss your progress with you in private,” Professor Oh informs.

Donghyuck shivers at the prospect of meeting the Head of Advanced Yielding to discuss whether or not he will have to repeat a year of Advanced Yielding. He runs a hand over his pounding heart, pleading it to slow down. He must remain calm. Precision is his Yielding strength after all.

Professor Oh starts calling names. His peers watch carefully, their eyes trained on the large screens before them as each student steps inside the Simulator and completes their exam.

Despite having completed the same Simulation multiple times, his anxiety level still spikes when Professor Oh announces his name.

Professor Oh pats him gently on the shoulder as he approaches the door to the Simulator, his usual serious look plastered on his face. “You’ll be fine,” Professor Oh assures him.

Donghyuck flashes him a small smile, swallowing hard once Professor Oh is out of view. He suppresses the anxious thoughts niggling at the back of his mind. Yes, he will be fine. He has to be. Precision is his strength.

The Simulator itself is located inside a small dark room. He stands by the entrance, running both hands down the front of his pants to wipe some of the sweat off his palms.

He presses a hand on the small panel by the door. “Lee Donghyuck, Earth Clan. Advanced Yielding Level 3,” a mechanical voice verifies.

The door before him slides open and Donghyuck strides inside with confident steps. Sensing his motion, the Simulator activates and the room lights up. He catches one last glimpse of Professor Oh and his peers. Then, they’re disappearing out of view as the door automatically slides shut. He must remain calm. They can still see him on the screens outside, from various angles.

“You will have six trial targets to warm up.” Professor Oh’s calm voice filters through the speaker. “Following the completion of the trial, you will have ten seconds before your first Simulation attempt. Please begin when you are ready.”

As Donghyuck steps into the white box marked on the ground, a set of trial targets appear before him, varying in sizes and distance away from him. The targets are identical to the ones Donghyuck used during his training back in Intermediate Yielding. He fades out the familiar rings of red, blue, black and white, focusing solely on the bright circle in the centre. He takes three deep breaths and summons his Yielding energy.

A ball of energy forms in his palm, emitting a familiar green glow. He raises his arm and hurls the ball directly at the first target. The Simulator pings when the ball hits the bullseye. The target dissipates and the faint sound of his classmates cheering filters into the room. With a thrust of his left hand, he conjures vines and sends them spiralling towards the second target.
Donghyuck speeds up from there, first swinging his right arm forward, then his left, aiming one vine after the other. With incredible precision, he hits the bullseye of every target.

The same mechanical voice from earlier begins the countdown immediately after Donghyuck hits the last target. He cracks his neck then rolls his shoulders and wrists. He hopes that the way his hands are shaking won’t be visible from the screens outside.

The alarm sounds and the exam begins.

Unlike the trial, his reaction time is put to test and he is kept on his toes as the targets flash around him at different locations and timing. He alternates between sending balls of energy and vines. After the tenth target, he loses track of how many he has hit and before he knows it, the Simulation is over. It’s like getting an injection, a quick pinch then it’s over. No harm is done. Donghyuck’s chest heaves as he tries to regain his breath. He feels slightly foolish for even feeling anxious about the exam earlier.

“Simulation completed in: one minute and twenty-six seconds,” the Simulator announces.

He whips his head up, eyes wild. Several mistakes were made in this attempt, so there is no way his time is at least twenty seconds lower than his best attempt during his last precision exam, over two years ago. He must have heard it wrong.

But then Professor Oh’s voice filters into the room, “Congratulations, Donghyuck. This is thirty-four seconds under the satisfactory time frame required to pass this exam. Your precision score is also satisfactory. You may exit the Simulation room.”

Donghyuck clears his throat, suppressing the desire to cheer as he steps out of the Simulator.

Professor Oh is scribbling comments down on the screen beside the control panel, an impressed look on his face. “Donghyuck, that was very impressive,” he praises in a low voice.

He has never seen Professor Oh smile so brightly before.

“In my ten years as a Yielding professor, you are one of the few exceptionally talented students that I have had the pleasure of teaching. It’s very rewarding watching you grow so much in such a short amount of time. Keep up the good work.” He pats Donghyuck on the back warmly.

Donghyuck bows and thanks him, extremely flattered by his professor’s words. He rushes back towards his peers, a bright smile adorned on his face. Much like Professor Oh, his friends shower him with compliments, crowding around him to congratulate him. He accepts each compliment with open arms, basking in the attention.

Jaemin wrestles him into a head choke and exclaims, “How are we supposed to compete with that?”

He elbows Jaemin in the stomach continuously until his grip loosens. Any attempt to be humble dissipates and Donghyuck flashes him a smirk. “Jealous? Better work harder.” They wrestle for a bit before Professor Oh calls Jaemin for his Simulation.

When the crowd finally scatters, Mark approaches him from behind and bumps him with his shoulder. “Hey, good job. That was impressive,” Mark beams at him. Donghyuck’s chest warms at this.

They stand together, Mark’s body pressed against his side as they watch Jaemin prepare himself, speeding through his trial run. Despite his words from earlier, Jaemin performs exceptionally well. From the screen, the class watches in awe as he shapes licking flames into compact orbs and aims them at the targets with precision. He completes the exam almost as quickly as Donghyuck, only eight seconds over Donghyuck’s personal record.

But not everyone succeeds like Donghyuck and Jaemin. Donghyuck’s stomach twists, his throat parched as he watches a number of his peers struggle with the Simulation, some underperforming because their strengths in Yielding lays elsewhere, whilst others due to nerves. It’s horrifying, he thinks, watching people fail like this.

He chews his lip anxiously as Renjun begins his Simulation. Renjun struggles at first but fortunately, he completes the exam within a satisfactory time frame and with a decent precision score. He hugs Renjun tightly when he exits the Simulator. Desperate to relieve the tightness in his throat, Donghyuck ducks out of class for a break and a quick drink of water.

On his way back from the water fountain, Professor Cha, the Head of Advanced Yielding, stops him in the middle of the hallway and for a moment, Donghyuck thinks he’s in trouble.

“I need you to come with me,” Professor Cha declares.

But to his surprise, Professor Cha leads his back towards the Simulation room. “There is someone I’d like you to meet,” he explains briefly. “Gather your belongings. I will speak to Professor Oh and Professor Kim to excuse you from class.”

Perking up at the mention of skipping class, he trails after Professor Cha obediently. He’s awfully curious but he doesn’t question why. After all, he’s never one to look at a gift horse in the mouth.

“Do you need to know your results?” Professor Cha asks just as they are leaving. He spots his friends eyeing him in the distance, save for Mark, who is about to enter the Simulation room.

Jeno makes a vague neck chopping motion, presumably asking if Donghyuck’s in trouble, and Donghyuck shakes his wildly head at him.

“Well?” Professor Cha asks expectantly.

“Oh,” Donghyuck says, belatedly realising that Professor Cha is still waiting for his response. “No, I won’t need to. I already know my results.”

At the end of each precision exam, the professor would leave their results up on the screens. His peers will probably swarm around it, but Donghyuck doesn’t need to join them to know that he has passed.

He catches Mark’s eye and sends a small thumbs up in his direction.

Donghyuck’s in a sour mood when he returns to his room. His meeting with Professor Cha ran into lunchtime and he had to endure his afternoon classes with a growling stomach. Renjun had snuck him some food but he had skipped breakfast too, so it wasn’t enough to fill his stomach. His head is pounding from lack of sleep and all he wants to do is to sink into his mattress and disappear.

He stalks to his desk to drop his bag down. The pot plants lining his desk abruptly breaks into anxious chattering. Confused, he leans forward to examine them. With a peep, they all fall silent. Then, from the corner of his eye, he sees a dark shape shift near his bed and he lets out an embarrassingly loud shriek. He does a double take, hand on his chest in a feeble attempt to calm his pounding heart.

The air shifts and a black blob—a Shadow—appears. The Shadow peers at him curiously then stretches a human-shaped hand in his direction, its movements oily.

Donghyuck yelps, kicking at the Shadow. The hand retracts and Donghyuck scowls at the spot where the Shadow nearly touched him, stomach churning. With a whoosh, a Shadow Portal opens before him, and there, in the middle of his room, a gaping black hole swirling with Shadows appears.

Mark slips out of the Portal, startling Donghyuck who shrieks again, even louder this time.

“Shit, how many times have I told you not to do that?” Donghyuck cries shrilly. “At least teleport outside my room. Don’t just appear in my room like this!”

“Sorry,” Mark scratches his head sheepishly.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack!” Donghyuck gasps, feeling his erratic heartbeat when he shifts to rest his hand on his chest again.

Donghyuck has only met two people that have been gifted with Shadow Yielding—the ability to connect with the Shadows—both of which were at this Institution. One of them, of course, is Mark. The second is Jongin, who is one of the Institution’s Border Protection officers. He works on the security team but also acts as Mark’s mentor, often providing him with guidance on controlling his energy when Shadow Yielding.

From Donghyuck’s understanding, Mark’s body acts as a host of some sort, sharing his energy with the Shadows and in return, under Mark’s command, the Shadows open up Portals from a different dimension. A symbiotic relationship. The Portals allow Mark to effectively teleport from one place to another. But for this very reason, Mark’s Water Yielding abilities have been fluctuating over the years since Donghyuck first met him. One time, Donghyuck had voiced his hypothesis, suggesting that the Shadows were hindering the development of Mark’s Yielding.

“You share a pool of energy right? I feel like they’re draining your energy,” Donghyuck had reasoned.

“It’s nothing like that, they’re very friendly.” Mark replied defensively, waving a dismissive hand. His voice was firm, his lips pressed in a hard line, so Donghyuck didn’t press any further.

Whilst Jongin’s family has a long line of history of Shadow Yielding—there are even rumours saying that Kim Yura, the first Shadow Yielder in history, is Jongin’s ancestor—Mark is the first in his family.

Mark had been thirteen at the time when his Shadow Yielding abilities surfaced. How his family reacted to this news has never been discussed in great detail. But it’s no secret, particularly among his friends, that Mark had been sent to the other side of Pangaea the following year, before he turned fourteen, to be schooled alongside students one year younger than him. It’s a sore subject but Donghyuck is eternally grateful that he had the chance to meet someone like Mark on his first day of Intermediate Yielding.

He marvels at Mark’s face, noting where the soft lines surrounding his cheekbones and jaw have been replaced by sharper edges over the years. But his eyes, nose, lips, and even the curve of his eyebrows, remain the same, still as breathtakingly beautiful as Donghyuck remembers during their first meeting.

“Here,” Mark presses a chocolate bar into his hand. “You weren’t there at lunch so I thought you might be hungry.” The shock from Mark’s abrupt appearance fizzles away immediately and Donghyuck accepts the bar, grinning.

“Oh, yeah. Professor Cha pulled me out of class and I was in a conference call with him. There’s a new kid from the Light Clan transferring. He’s arriving over the weekend and he’s going to be my new roommate!”

The smile on Donghyuck’s face falters when Mark reminds him that he would have to tidy his room to make space for this new boy. “Well, at least I’ll finally have someone to chat to in the evening other than my plants.” He tears open the bar and devours it within seconds.

Mark clears his throat, looking away shyly to pick at imaginary lint on his jumper. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out.” He’s fidgeting more than usual and from experience, Donghyuck senses that something is on Mark’s mind, bothering him. He doesn’t pry though, because he is confident that given some space and time, Mark will reveal his worries.

“Sure, what do you want to do?” Donghyuck hums as he holds out a small watering can, glancing at Mark expectantly. Wordlessly, Mark covers the opening with his palm and fills it up with water.

The plants chirp and wiggle their leaves in anticipation. “Drink up,” he murmurs at them. He feels Mark’s eyes on him, watching him intently as he tips small volumes of water into each pot.

“I was hoping you’d have suggestions.”

“Well, I was thinking last night…” Donghyuck cocks his head to the side, thinking hard. He sets down the watering can. “Do you want to try riding the Hoverboards?”

Mark lights up at first, face full of childlike wonder and curiosity, but then his face falls. “There’s no way we can get our hands on Hoverboards. Besides, we wouldn’t be able to operate one even if we did.”

“There is one way,” Donghyuck supplies, “We can try them out in Simulation? That way we can practice and get real good at it if we get to try the real thing. When we get to try it, that is.”

“Sure, let’s do that.” Mark grins at him. “What are you waiting for?”

One of Donghyuck’s favourite things about Mark is the fact that he doesn’t question. Unlike many of their friends, he’s open to Donghyuck’s suggestions and is almost always on-board for Donghyuck’s ideas, no matter how wild they are.

He offers a hand to Donghyuck. The air behind Mark wavers and a Shadow Portal opens. Donghyuck inhales sharply, eyeing the Shadows looming around Mark suspiciously. One of them begins to edge towards his direction like earlier.

“Let’s walk there. I’m not overly friendly with your—friends,” he gestures vaguely at the black blobs, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Alright then,” Mark shrugs, the Portal shimmering to a close behind him. “Lead the way.”

They arrive outside one of the training Simulation rooms, only to find it occupied. Donghyuck bursts into the room to chase out the occupants.

“What are you doing here?” Donghyuck demands in a stern voice, almost scolding.

The two occupants, an Air Yielder and a Light Yielder from the year below them, scamper away apologetically.

“Hey, you didn’t have to scare them away like that!” Mark exclaims. “Chenle and Jisung are lovely, they would’ve given us the room if you asked nicely.”

Donghyuck waves him off, muttering under his breath about respecting older students.

They waste away the afternoon playing around in the Simulation room. Donghyuck immediately forgets about his pounding head and grumbling stomach once he slips on a pair of Simulation goggles, an unfamiliar landscape filling his visual field.

They lose track of time as they immerse themselves in a Simulation specially designed to train Advanced Yielding graduates, who take up Fieldwork or Border Protection jobs, to use the Hoverboard. With the goggles on, it truly feels like they’re flying through the air and whizzing around each other.

“Thanks for hanging out me Hyuckie,” Mark says sincerely, as they stroll back to the dining hall for dinner. Casually, he slings an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“It’s nothing,” Donghyuck replies, feigning nonchalance. “I’m glad you had fun.” He savours the way Mark presses into his side. The setting sun casts an amber light over his face, masking his flushed cheeks.

They walk in comfortable silence until Mark sighs heavily, leaning even closer. Feeling the weight of Mark’s body, Donghyuck’s steps falter. Mark opens his mouth to say something but then he changes his mind, clamping it shut again.

And there it is—whatever worrying thought that had been plaguing Mark’s mind earlier is back. Donghyuck doesn’t pry, only slipping the arm trapped between their bodies out to curl around Mark’s waist. He gives him a comforting squeeze.

They’re almost at the dining hall when Mark steers him down a different hallway. In a quiet voice, he finally reveals, “I failed the precision exam.”

Donghyuck nibbles on his lip, absorbing Mark’s words. They continue down the secluded hallway and before he has the chance to reply, Mark continues. The words flood out of his mouth like a breakage in the dam.

“I don’t know what went wrong! I’ve been nervous before an exam before but it’s never been this bad. I went in a-and missed all the targets, I just—” his voice cracks, his face utterly distraught. With a trembling breath, he says, with such finality that Donghyuck’s stomach twists uncomfortably, “I’m such a failure.”

Donghyuck stops in his steps to pull Mark into a hug. Mark accepts this gesture gratefully, burying his face deep into Donghyuck’s neck. A few beats later, Donghyuck feels the neckline of his shirt dampen with Mark’s tears. The words feel heavy in Donghyuck’s chest, as if he is soaking up Mark’s worries and insecurities with each word he processes in his mind.

“It’s just one exam,” he says carefully, stroking Mark’s head soothingly. Mark clutches feebly at the back of his shirt. “Both you and your Yielding abilities are worth much more than this. Much, much more than you’ll ever know.”

Mark exhales shakily and tightens his arms around Donghyuck’s waist.

“I have faith in you. You’ll be okay,” he says softly, lifting his head in time to see the last of the sun dip below the skyline through the window. He nuzzles his cheek against Mark’s head. “I know you’ll be.”

Wong Yukhei is taller than Donghyuck anticipates. He easily towers over him when he rises to his feet, from where he was seated outside Professor Cha’s office and Donghyuck has to crane his neck to look him in the eye. Balancing a stack of new books under one arm, his new roommate offers a free hand, a charming smile plastered on his face.

“You must be Lee Donghyuck!” Yukhei greets warmly.

Yukhei looks more mature than he did over the conference call, his face sharp but his eyes warm. Donghyuck accepts his handshake and they exchange pleasantries. He can’t help but marvel over the markings on Yukhei’s face. He had spent a good portion of the conference call staring at them, but they’re even more fascinating in person.

On screen, Yukhei’s white markings had been faint but as Donghyuck runs his eyes over Yukhei’s face, he realises that they’re not white, but silver in colour. It contrasts beautifully with his tanned skin. The markings begin approximately a fingernail’s length below where Yukhei’s eyebrows end, thin silver lines branching outwards, swirling around each temple and then down to his cheekbones and the sides of his jaw. They’re distinct markings from an ancient family. A powerful family well-known for their reign over the Light Clan for generations.

Donghyuck’s mind burns with curiosity as he wonders why the Light Clan leader would send his son to this Institution of all places. It’s unusual enough for students to be transferring during the final year of formal Yielding training, let alone a family member of a respected leader. Often children of Clan leaders are educated by retired Generals who have an abundance of experience in Yielding from the time they served in the army.

Professor Cha ducks out of his office and ushers them out of the building. They make small talk as they stroll towards the dormitory.

Eventually, Donghyuck succumbs to his curiosity and asks. “So, what brings you here?” Yukhei sends him a look of confusion, so he clarifies, “Why did you transfer to the Institution?” It’s really none of his business but Donghyuck’s itching to know.

“My father recommended me to come here when I expressed interest in joining the army. You see, I was homeschooled,” Yukhei falls in step with Donghyuck. “My father mentioned that the educators here are exceptionally skilled and will be able to help me brush up on my skills.”

Whilst most Yielders grow up training at local schools in their respective Clans, a small number of students, either wealthy or exceptionally gifted at Yielding, are nominated to study at the Institution. The Institution funds research and is arguably one of the best when it comes to educating and training Yielders.

The Institution is rather far from Donghyuck’s home, located at the edge of Air Clan, where it shares the border with the Light Clan. He had been hesitant when he received the invitation to study here and had only accepted it to follow Yerim’s footsteps.

Donghyuck hums, “So you’re thinking of joining your father’s army after you finish training?”

“My father’s army?” Yukhei stops in his steps. Then, he lets out a bark of laughter. Donghyuck’s ears are beginning to feel awfully warm. “Oh no, my father’s not the Light Clan leader. What makes you think that?”

“You know, the markings,” he replies, gesturing to Yukhei’s face. He traces the swirls along his own cheekbone.

Yukhei’s still cackling. “No, no—thank goodness, no. My father is the Clan leader’s younger brother,” he explains. “My uncle is a strict man and we would not get along too well if I was his son.” They enter the dormitory building and Yukhei’s eyes widen. He glances around the foyer, his face adorned with fascination.

“Here we are,” Donghyuck clears his throat, grateful for the change in topic. They make their way up the stairs. “Our room is the fifth room on the third floor.” He waves vaguely at the numbers ‘305’ etched on the door. “Wanna try opening the door?”

The door’s circular lock is composed of a special material that bears the appearance of normal grey-coloured stone. The material absorbs Yielding energy and is able to recognise a Yielder by their energy. Professor Cha had sent someone earlier in the morning, not long after Yukhei arrived, to alter the settings on the lock to recognise Yukhei’s energy.

“Sure,” Yukhei thumbs over the Institution’s emblem engraved in the centre. The emblem disappears under his palm as he presses a large hand over it.

“Okay, turn your palm 90 degrees to the right, 180 degrees to the left then 90 degrees right again,” Donghyuck instructs. “Make sure you press down hard when you’re done.”

As Yukhei channels energy into the lock, twisting his palm the way Donghyuck instructs, his palm emits a scarlet glow. Donghyuck balks, glancing back and forth between Yukhei and his palm. The lock clicks and the door swings open. Without hesitation, Yukhei pushes through the doorway and enters, eyes scanning the room from the bunk bed on one side to the two desks on the other. Yukhei’s luggage had been sent ahead to the dormitory upon his arrival and currently sits at the end of their shared bunk.

Donghyuck trails after him, still gaping. “You’re a Fire Yielder?” Yukhei doesn’t respond, dropping his stack of books at his table. He strides to the other end of the room and presses himself against the window, marvelling at the view.

After a moment of silence, Donghyuck presses, “But how? Your markings—you look like a Light Yielder!”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Yukhei turns to look at him over his shoulder, the corner of his lips tugging. “I’m half-blood. My mother is from the Fire Clan,” he discloses, relieving Donghyuck of his shock and curiosity.

“Oh,” Donghyuck says dumbly. “That—that’s cool. I’m not as interesting as you are. Both my parents are from the Earth Clan,” he supplies, even though Yukhei didn’t ask, but Donghyuck doesn’t know what else to say.

“Earth Clan, huh?” Yukhei murmurs. Donghyuck watches on as Yukhei studies the row of pot plants sitting on the window sill. “No wonder it’s like a mini greenhouse in here,” he comments, thumbing at the leaves of one of Donghyuck’s sunflowers.

Donghyuck’s face splits into a wide grin. He spends the remainder of his Sunday afternoon with Yukhei by his side, listening intently as he spills his knowledge about plants.

The next morning, Donghyuck wakes to a gentle breeze.

The first thought that comes to his mind is that he never leaves the window open overnight, or before he leaves his room. He has this irrational fear that if it rains whilst he is away, the rainwater will slip through the gaps of his window and drown his plants. He blinks blearily at the window and sure enough, it has been left ajar. Confused, he sits up in bed.

Realising that he is sleeping on the top bunk, he abruptly remembers that he now has a roommate. Yukhei must have left the window open.

His second thought is the time. He is pleased to find, when he glances at his alarm, that he still has a solid hour before class. So naturally, he snoozes his alarm.

Donghyuck flops back onto his bed and goes back to sleep.

He wakes again, half an hour before class. This time, the first thought that floats into his mind is: it’s Mark’s nineteenth birthday today. It’s a quiet thought, a whisper at the back of his mind, but it has him flying out of bed.

“Jeno’s going to kill me,” Donghyuck mutters to himself as he hurriedly dresses himself.

He had promised Jeno that he would wake an hour earlier than they usually do to help him prepare for Mark’s surprise. They had planned to burst into Mark’s room—with the help of his roommate, Jungwoo—and wake the birthday boy with party blowers, confetti, balloons, and most importantly, a birthday cake that Jaemin had sweet-talked one of the kitchen staff into making for them.

Before leaving his room, he shuts all the windows securely. He drops by the greenhouse and retrieves Mark’s present from the Incubator, where he had left it on Saturday evening. Tucking it safely into his pocket, he rushes towards the dining hall. Luckily, his friends are still sitting at their usual table. Donghyuck can’t help but smile at the sight of Mark, his cheeks smeared with cream from the cake, a little party hat sitting on his head.

“Damn, look at him!” Jeno’s loud voice carries across the room, catching Donghyuck’s attention as he sneaks towards them.

Donghyuck freezes in his steps, thinking he has been caught.

Fortunately, Jeno nudges his head away from where Donghyuck’s approaching. He follows Jeno’s gaze and spots a swarm of people at the other end of the dining hall.

Among them, he spots his new roommate, Yukhei, standing near the table that the Fire Yielders in their year usually sits at. Behind him, Doyoung is shuffling towards the kitchen with an empty bowl in hand. A few metres to the right, by the tall glass door that leads out onto a small balcony, he also spots Jungwoo sitting at Doyoung’s usual table, mindlessly spooning yoghurt into his mouth with a book propped open in front of him. And if Donghyuck squints hard enough beside Jungwoo—is that Yuta or Yangyang? Or maybe Sicheng? But both Yuta and Sicheng have longer torsos than that, so it must be Yangyang, Donghyuck concludes.

Jaemin makes a small noise at the back of his throat and Donghyuck draws his attention back to the table, feeling just as confused as Jaemin sounds.

“Who? Doyoung?” Mark pipes up around a mouthful of cake. All of them, except Jeno, swivel their heads towards Doyoung. In the distance, Doyoung is speaking avidly to a petite girl, presumably a colleague at the laboratory, setting down his empty bowl to gesture to different parts of the room with both hands.

“No, not him,” Jeno sighs, exasperated. “The really tall guy. At the Fire Yielder table. Is he new?”

“Oh, him,” Jaemin says flatly, sounding disappointed. “That’s Yukhei.”

With his tall stature and sharp looks, Yukhei stands out among the Fire Yielders. Donghyuck realises then, that his group of friends are not the only ones staring at Yukhei. In fact, multiple eyes are on the new boy around the dining hall, some more discreet than others.

“Wait, how do you know him?” Jeno asks, a bewildered look on his face. “Am I the only one who doesn’t know this?”

Mark raises his hand, “I didn’t know.”

Jaemin shrugs, turning back to his food, “Donghyuck walked him around the dorm and introduced him to everyone before dinner last night. Weren’t you guys there?” Whilst Jaemin has already lost interest in watching Donghyuck’s new roommate, Jeno and Mark continue to stare.

“How does Donghyuck know him?” Mark asks skeptically, at the same time Jeno says, “We had a meeting with the Head of Water Clan.”

“He’s Donghyuck’s new roommate,” Renjun pipes up, finally joining their discussion.

All three of them turn to stare at Renjun. Donghyuck too, gapes at Renjun.

“Weren’t you away with your parents till like, late last night?” Jeno narrows his eyes and asks suspiciously, “How did you hear about this if we didn’t?”

“Just heard people talking.” Renjun looks up from his porridge, waving his spoon towards Yukhei as he continues, “He’s so tall, do you reckon he’s taller than Youngho?”

Donghyuck sighs sadly at the mention of their older friend. He misses Youngho dearly. It has almost been a month since Youngho had been sent away for a Fieldwork mission with Jaehyun and Ten. He hopes he returns soon.

“Sorry to break it to you, but everyone’s taller than you,” Jaemin says teasingly. He ducks his head with a yelp when Renjun flings a spoonful of porridge at his face.

“That’s not what I asked,” Renjun snaps indignantly.

Before his friends can break into a messy food fight like a bunch of toddlers, Donghyuck saunters up to the table, abolishing his original plans of surprising Mark.

“Hello children,” Donghyuck drawls. He plucks Mark’s spoon out of his hand and steals a few bites of his cake. After he swallows the cake, he slings an arm around Mark’s shoulder, “And of course, the most honorary senior member of our crew.”

Anticipating a round of scolding from Jeno for his late arrival, Donghyuck braces himself. What he does not expect is the loud guffaw that Jeno lets out at Donghyuck’s words. He watches in amusement as some of the juice Jeno had just sipped spills out of his mouth. Scowling, Renjun scoots away from him, avoiding the splatters of juice.

The rest of them, save for Jaemin, whose birthday is a little over a week after Mark’s, have all turned eighteen. Although Mark is the same age as Yerim, he had joined the Institution later than his peers, starting Intermediate Yielding 1 at the same time as Donghyuck and the rest of their group.

“You’re so old now,” Jaemin teases, tugging gently on Mark’s ear. Jeno joins him and together, they continue to tease Mark.

Mark waves them off nonchalantly, reclaiming his spoon to dig into his cake again.

They bicker playfully until the dreaded bell resonates in the large dining hall, signalling the start of their first class. As everyone scatters and heads off to class, Donghyuck pulls Mark aside.

Mark is waving goodbye to Taeyong, who had stopped by their table to wish Mark a happy birthday.

“What’s up?” he chirps when he turns back to face Donghyuck.

Donghyuck traces Mark’s face with his eyes, sliding down the curve of Mark’s nose, the dip of his philtrum, and all the way to his lips, parted in a wide smile.

Then, Donghyuck leans in, close—too close. He feels the soft puff of Mark’s breath against his cheek. Donghyuck’s breath hitches. His eyes flicker to Mark’s lips but—

No, he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t think of his best friend that way—

He pulls back with a grin. “Give me your wrist.”

Mark blinks back at him, puzzled. So Donghyuck helps himself, reaching forward to grab Mark’s right wrist. “Okay now, close your eyes,” he demands.

Mark jerks his hand back, sending Donghyuck a skeptical look. “What are you going to do?”

“Just trust me, close your eyes,” Donghyuck presses on.

Reluctantly, Mark offers his wrist again. Donghyuck draws the vine bracelet from his pocket, unclasping it. Hovering a glowing palm around Mark’s wrist, he sets to work. Using his energy, he adjusts the length of the bracelet to fit it snugly around Mark’s wrist and preserves the little flowers he had added before coming to the dining hall.

“Alright,” he says when he’s done, “You can open your eyes now.”

“You made me a bracelet?” Mark says, breathless. “This must have taken you ages!”

Mark draws his wrist to his chest and examines the bracelet. Donghyuck watches fondly as Mark thumbs over the spot where Donghyuck had intricately entwined the vines to spell out his name.

He pulls away, gaping at Donghyuck. “Isn’t this the same as yours?”

“The very same,” Donghyuck confirms. He fiddles with his own bracelet, secured around his right wrist. He beams at his best friend, “Happy birthday!”

For a moment, Donghyuck thinks can see stars in Mark’s eyes. Mark pulls him into a tight hug and his chest blooms with affection. Donghyuck closes his eyes, envisioning the way his world spins at a slower speed as it crosses paths with Mark’s. Just for that brief moment, it feels as if he has fallen into orbit with Mark’s world, their hearts and minds aligning like stars.

“We’ve gotta head to class,” Mark blurts, breaking the moment. Donghyuck forces a small smile on his face as Mark pulls away.

Before they part ways, Donghyuck leans in again, a little more daringly. His lips brush against Mark’s ear as he whispers, “Skip your classes in the afternoon and wait for me in your room. I’ve got another special present for you.”

Donghyuck nestles a small clay pot in the crook of his arm. Inside the pot is a freshly planted sprout, with two small leaves barely visible above the soil.

“You’re going to grow to become an impressive sunflower,” Donghyuck says proudly to the pot. The little sprout’s leaves flutter in agreement. Pleased, Donghyuck pulls away to rap on Mark’s door.

He glances around himself cautiously. There’s shuffling behind the door then, a muffled thud and the sound of Mark cursing. Donghyuck’s the only one in the hallway, as everyone else is still in class, but he sneaks one last look over his shoulder for good measure.

The door swings open and Mark greets him with a grin. “Hey, what’s up?” Donghyuck pushes the plant into Mark’s arms. He peers curiously into the pot, “Oh, is this for me?”

Donghyuck nods enthusiastically. “It’s a sunflower. Make sure you leave it by your window sill. If you’re having trouble, you can ask myself or Jungwoo, but it shouldn’t be too hard to care for a plant though.” Mark nods, dipping a finger in the moist soil. Donghyuck leans in, smirking. He continues in a low voice, “That’s not the special present though. Meet me by the greenhouse in ten minutes.”

“Oh—” Mark sputters, pulling away a little, “Okay.” He cradles the pot plant closer to his chest.

Donghyuck slips out of the dormitory, making a beeline for the shed by the greenhouse. The shed is locked, just as he had left it. He presses his palm over the round stone lock. Feeling his palm grow warmer, he pulses energy into the lock. He turns his hand left then right, then with a click, the shed door opens. He slips past the door, ducking inside to retrieve Mark’s present.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Mark appears around the corner of the greenhouse, whistling to himself. Donghyuck basks in pleasure when Mark’s eyes widen.

“How did you get these?” Mark exclaims, gesturing wildly at the Hoverboards. He’s buzzing with excitement as he approaches the boards, hands hovering. His hand grazes the surface and he screeches, “Woah, it’s real!”

Donghyuck shushes him. “Long story. I had to lure Doyoung out of his lab.”

“But doesn’t he keep these locked up? Like, with high-security locks?”

“He locks up the prototypes with a special type of lock—one of those that recognise the Yielder by their energy—but these older boards,” he wiggles his eyebrows, “They’re just in one of those cupboards with a standard lock and key. The other day I was in his lab and I saw him open a neighbouring cupboard.”

Donghyuck procures a bunch of keys, jingling them before tucking them back into his pocket. He nudges a board in Mark’s direction and amusement blooms in his chest at the way Mark grabs it off him gingerly. “Now, I need you to teleport us somewhere isolated for us to test these out. Should we go by the river?”

The professors have prohibited Mark from teleporting without supervision. Donghyuck thinks it’s a stupid rule because Jongin’s the only one who can teleport so it’s not like the professors can do anything if something goes horribly wrong. Besides, there are no sensors in the dormitory or within the Institution’s grounds to catch him anyway. At the borders of the Institution’s grounds, however, there are sensors that go absolutely haywire if Mark trips them. It has snitched on Mark a handful of times when Donghyuck and the rest of their crew have tried to teleport out of the Institution’s grounds without permission.

“How about the old Willow tree?” Mark suggests, still examining the board in awe.

The old Willow tree stands on a hill by a field of tall grass. It’s within the border so Mark can teleport both of them undetected.

“Lead the way, boss.”

Without hesitation, Mark opens a Shadow Portal. He slips his hand into Donghyuck’s and tugs him gently into the Portal.

Donghyuck has teleported—or Shadow Walked as Mark likes to call it—countless times but the cold dip of the Portal as he enters continues to feel foreign. He shivers violently when the Shadows glide over his body, swarming behind them to close the Portal. He gulps, squeezing his eyes shut and breathes in deeply. The darkness that envelopes them is suffocating. Then abruptly, he loses the feeling of the ground, the familiar hum of the earth beneath his feet. It’s an utterly frightening sensation. Having experienced this in the past, he anticipates it, but it doesn’t make it feel any better. As if sensing his anxiety, Mark squeezes his hand reassuringly and Donghyuck releases the breath that he was holding.

They exit the Portal and Donghyuck has never felt so grateful to feel the ground again. He releases Mark’s hand, squatting down to press his palm on the ground. The low hum of the earth is welcoming. Setting the Hoverboard down, he presses his other palm against the dirt too.

“Are you alright?” Mark hovers anxiously.

Donghyuck nods, gradually regaining his breath. “Shadow Portals weren’t made for Earth Yielders,” he comments weakly as the queasiness subsides. He takes another moment to reassure his mind that he’s back on the ground.

Once he’s back on his feet, Donghyuck does a cautious sweep, eyes scanning across the field of tall grass, to the old Willow tree sitting on a small hill at the other end of the field. He turns to check behind him too, the faint outline of the dormitory building in the distance. There is no one in sight. He nudges Mark in the ribs. “Coast is clear, let’s go.”

In a practised movement, he sets one foot on the slim board and kicks the safety lock off with his other. He feels the board bind with his foot as he channels energy through the arches of his feet. The engine whirs to life and the board begins to glow, emitting a faint mauve-coloured light. He levitates a metre off the ground before pushing more energy through his foot to shift forward.

Beside him, Mark is still struggling to activate the board. “You need to let out a small burst of energy to lock your feet onto the board,” Donghyuck instructs.

“I know,” Mark replies feebly, “I think I’m just a bit nervous.” After two more tries, the board pings softly and Mark successfully secures his feet on the board.

“Okay, now, you need a steady flow of energy to raise yourself in the air—that’s it!” Donghyuck cheers as Mark rises above the ground. “Got it?”

“Yeah. I think so. It feels—” Mark exhales shakily, “It’s just like how we’ve practised in the Simulation room.”

Donghyuck nods in agreement. It’s their first time on real Hoverboards but the practice session in the Simulation room has paid off. They race around the field, weaving through the tall grass and towards the old Willow tree. The wind whips against Donghyuck’s face. It rushes through his hair and makes his clothes flap wildly. He runs a hand through the grass and yells at the top of his lungs. The rush of adrenaline is incredible. He has never felt so alive before.

The quiet whir of the engine beneath his feet is satisfying to his ear and he channels more energy, edging towards the tree. Adjusting the angle of the Hoverboard so that it’s parallel to the ground, he travels up the steep hill with ease. He only realises that Mark has lagged behind once he arrives at the tree. He steers his board around the tree, turning just on time to see Mark struggling halfway down the hill.

Donghyuck cups his hand to his mouth and shouts, “Use more energy! You need to move up the hill faster or you’ll tip over.” He has a horrible niggling feeling that Mark is going to lose control of his board.

Like Donghyuck suggests, Mark channels more energy into his Hoverboard and instantly, he whizzes up the hill. His arms fly out, spreading wide to regain his balance. However, when he reaches flatter ground at the top, he does not slow down.

“I don’t know how to stop!” He calls out at Donghyuck in panic, heading right towards the old Willow tree at full speed.

Mark surges past him with a shriek, losing complete control of his board. Donghyuck barely swerves out of the way, almost launching himself off the board. Once he regains his balance, he sets off after Mark, racing towards the flower field behind the tree. With one hand stretched out by his side, he forms a bed of soft grass and manoeuvres it so that it hovers beneath Mark, ready to catch him at a moment’s notice.

Mark’s feet detach from the board and he grunts loudly when he lands in Donghyuck’s hovering bed of grass. Donghyuck lets out a sigh of relief, zipping forward to catch Mark’s board mid-air. He lands carefully and sprints in Mark’s direction, both Hoverboards tucked under his arm.

His stomach churns at the sight of Mark laying lifelessly on the bed of grass. But then Mark lurches up, his face splitting into the widest grin.

“Dude, did you see that?” Mark bellows excitedly, “Let’s do that again!”

Donghyuck sighs in relief. “You should have seen your face when you lost control and flew past me.” He sets the boards down by his feet and does his best re-enactment of the look of fear that was on Mark’s face.

With a roll of his eyes, Mark shoves at him playfully and Donghyuck loses his footing. He tugs at Mark’s shirt and they both fall in a heap among the wildflowers. He doubles over with laughter when Mark rolls off him.

When the laughter finally dies down, Mark climbs back onto his feet. He plucks his Hoverboard off the ground, brushing the dirt off the surface. He nudges his foot against Donghyuck’s side gently. “Come on, there’s still time before sundown. We could probably fly back instead of teleporting!”

Donghyuck whines softly, fingers running through the fistful of dirt in his hands. Lying with his back against the ground, the low hum of the damp earth beneath his body, the sky spanning above him and Mark at his side, Donghyuck feels right at home. He closes his eyes. He wants to lay there until the sun dips below the horizon and nightfall usurps the sky. He wants to watch the stars that litter the night sky with Mark. He wants to lay there under the old Willow tree with his head on Mark’s chest—

He cracks an eye open at the low hum of Mark’s board. “Come on, slowpoke!” Mark provokes, circling Donghyuck on his board.

Before he can reply, Donghyuck senses a disturbance in the earth. He lurches into a seated position, eyes sweeping cautiously at the edge of the forest where the flower field ends.

Mark stops circling Donghyuck, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What’s wrong?” Even if he wasn’t floating mid-air, Mark would still be unable to feel the ground beneath his feet the way an Earth Yielder can.

The ground vibrates beneath his palms and Donghyuck clambers to his feet anxiously. Two deers grazing at the edge of the forest startles, prancing across the field at an alarming pace. His ears pick up the distant sound of thudding from the forest. Mark hears the thudding too, whipping his head towards the direction that Donghyuck has been staring at for the past minute. The muffled thudding approaches them, becoming louder and louder, then—

It stops. Donghyuck raises a hand, signalling Mark to remain silent. He knows it’s on the tip of Mark’s tongue to comment that it’s gone, but it has not. Donghyuck feels the ground shake with each step of whatever is headed in their direction.

“Minhyung,” a stern voice calls.

Mark freezes on his board beside him, the engine still whirring quietly.

The air before them wavers and a group of Yielders on horses materialises before them. An Illusion, Donghyuck realises.

He carefully studies the Yielders on horseback, scanning past two guards dressed in pristine black robes situated at either end of the party. In between them, one particular Yielder has the trademark Light Clan markings on her face, very much like Yukhei’s. Without a doubt, this woman had been the one who casted the Illusion to conceal the party of five horses with Yielders on their backs as they travelled. He has seen Sicheng cast Illusions before but nothing as impressive as this.

Donghyuck’s eyes flicker to examine the Yielder closest to them—a stern man with a deep frown etched on his face, staring down at them from his horse. He averts his eyes, afraid to stare at the man’s face for too long. Unlike his companions, this man is dressed in fine navy robes. Donghyuck eyes the intricate swirls weaved into the fabric by golden threads. His blood runs cold at the sight of the emblem of the Water Clan stitched over the man’s left chest.

He has never seen this man before but there is no mistake that the person standing before them is the leader of the Water Clan.

Donghyuck immediately ducks down on one knee, bowing his head. “Your Highness,” he says hastily.

Beside him, Mark dismounts his board but makes no effort to greet the Water Clan leader. He snags Mark’s sleeve and hisses, “Mark, get down.” Surely Mark has seen the leader of his Clan before, having grown up in the Water Clan for most of his life. A well-respected man, recognised across Clans by the tales of his great work, the influence he has over Pangaea.

But Mark remains frozen, staring intently at the Water Clan leader. He continues to stare as the leader dismounts his horse.

“Minhyung,” the Water Clan leader repeats.

“Father,” Mark acknowledges, bowing his head slightly.

Donghyuck’s head whips up to stare at Mark in disbelief. His eyes flicker frantically back and forth between Mark and the Clan leader. There must be a mistake. Mark’s father is a Fieldwork agent, not this—Mark said so himself.

“What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in class?” the Water Clan leader interrogates.

Mark’s head dips in shame, tucking his arms behind his back. “Father, I can explain.”

“Taeyong informed me just last week that you have been working hard but this doesn’t seem to be the case.” The leader berates, deep voice ringing across the field. Mark flinches and takes a step backwards.

A deep knot of confusion settles in Donghyuck’s stomach. Everyone knows that Taeyong’s father is the Water Clan leader’s younger brother and that he’s cousins with Mark. But they’re related because of their mothers—not their fathers. Mark had said so himself. It doesn’t make sense at all, as to why Mark is acknowledging the man before them as his father.

The Water Clan leader continues, “I thought I made myself clear enough the last time we spoke. You are to get your head together and focus on your studies and training, not out playing like a child.” He toes at the Hoverboard by Donghyuck’s feet.

Donghyuck drops his gaze. His knee is aching and his legs begin to shake from exertion, but he doesn’t dare to speak or move. Any moment now, the Water Clan leader is going to turn his attention to him and he will be reprimanded too. He tenses, clenching his fist.

But the scolding doesn’t come. Instead, he hears a swish of robes and the horse whinnying as the Water Clan leader grips the saddle to mount his horse.

“Father,” Mark calls hesitantly. The Water Clan leader pauses, head tilting slightly to flicker his eyes in Mark’s direction. Mark licks his lips and continues in a small, but hopeful voice. “Are you here for my birthday?”

The Water Clan leader’s eyebrows furrow. “I am here with a representative from the Light Clan, the Minister of Education,” he declares with an air of importance, motioning to the female Yielder behind him. “We are late for our board meeting. Major changes are to be implemented sooner than we previously discussed.” He mounts his horse with ease and before he rides off, he orders, “Minhyung, I will see you in front of Principal Jung’s office later. After dusk.”

The air shimmers and the Yielders disappear from view, but the sound of hooves thudding and the vibrations in the ground confirm that they are travelling away from them. Donghyuck reaches for his Hoverboard, still turning over the event in his mind. Without warning, Mark tugs on his wrist harshly, pulling him to his feet. He doesn’t have time to respond before they’re slipping through a Shadow Portal again.

For a moment, there’s darkness, then Donghyuck stumbles out of the Portal, stomach churning and his knees buckling. The Hoverboard drops with a clatter by his side. He presses both palms against the ground, bending over. He dry heaves. They’re back by the greenhouse, he notes, arms shaking. Mark’s not within his peripheral vision but Donghyuck knows that he’s still there. He revels in the silence as he regains his breath, exhaling shakily when the nausea resides.

He pushes himself to his feet. “You’re Lee Minhyung?” Donghyuck demands.

Mark’s lack of response confirms Donghyuck’s suspicions. Although the Lee family has traditionally maintained a low profile and very few actually know the family members’ faces and names, the Water Clan leader’s eldest son is well-known among the people of Pangaea, even the Commoners. Lee Minhyung, who had disappeared without a trace almost five years ago. Many rumours of his death had surfaced at the time of his disappearance, but the Water Clan leader confirmed himself that his son was alive and well, just training in a safe place—

“Shit, I should have known,” Donghyuck utters, shaking his head at the realisation. “Lee Minhyung didn’t just disappear, huh? He was here all along.”

Mark’s back is facing Donghyuck and his grip on the Hoverboard tightens. “Donghyuck, please… Not now, let’s not start this,” he begs feebly. “Can you just give me some space? I want to talk things through when I’m thinking clearer.”

“What I don’t understand,” Donghyuck continues in a low voice, “Is why you would keep this from me.” He reaches a hand out to grip Mark’s right wrist tightly, jostling the vine bracelet. “Best friends don’t just lie to each other, Mark!” he cries out. “I-I trusted you!”

For a brief moment, Donghyuck wonders if he’s overreacting. But the betrayal burns deep in his throat.

“Can you just give me some space?” Mark repeats, raising his voice this time. He attempts to dislodge Donghyuck’s hand.

Donghyuck laughs hollowly. “I’m sure you have plenty more secrets stashed away that you probably never intended on telling me. Sucks to think our five years of friendship is built on lies.”

“Don’t be unreasonable, Donghyuck,” Mark sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “You know very well that I wasn’t exactly in the place to be revealing my identity. At least, not to the students here and you’re—” He cuts off, but it is clear that the words ‘you’re no exception’ were on his mind.

Anger burns at Donghyuck’s fingertips where they’re still connected with Mark’s wrist. Out of the tip of his index and middle fingers, he releases a burst of energy and in a swift motion, he swipes upwards.

It slices through the vine bracelet cleanly.

The bracelet slips off Mark’s wrist, falling pathetically to the ground and sick satisfaction courses through him when Mark’s eyes widen at this, his face distraught. He hopes that Mark is hurting as much as he is.

Donghyuck backs away slowly with a forced smile. “Okay, sure. Let’s have some space. In fact, have all the space you want. I don’t want to be friends with someone like you.” Mark’s expression hardens and he swivels to meet Donghyuck’s eyes, his jaw tensing. “Are you so insecure that you need to hide behind a fake name?” Donghyuck provokes, “Coward.”

Mark launches himself at him and Donghyuck gasps loudly when his back hits the brick wall of the shed by the greenhouse. “Take that back.” He curls his fingers into Donghyuck’s collar, his face contorted with anger. “Fucking take that back.”

Mark’s so close he feels his breath on his face.

“Hey, stop that!” Someone cries sharply in the distance. There’s a rush of footsteps but neither of them takes their eyes off each other.

“Stop breathing down my neck and go mind your own fucking business!” Mark screeches, “It’s suffocating!”

Donghyuck shouts back, “You’re not just a coward but also a liar!”

He doesn’t even register Mark’s arm swinging. One moment he’s glaring Mark down then the next, Mark’s fist strike his face and a sharp pain bleeds across his cheek.

Before the pain resides, Mark swings his fist again but this time Donghyuck feels it. Really feels it. He reels back at the force, tasting blood as he falls to the ground. But Mark doesn’t stop. He hulls Donghyuck up by his collar. As soon as he senses Mark swinging his fist for the third time, he shoves his palms out and blasts energy directly into Mark’s chest. It sends Mark flying, thudding to the ground on his back with a loud groan.

Donghyuck falls into a heap on the ground, exhausted from the outburst, the blinding pain on his face overwhelming him. From the corner of his eye, he sees Mark stalking towards him again. Instinctively, Donghyuck raises his arms to protect his face.

He’s readying himself for another punch when the earth shifts before him and a dirt wall rises between him and Mark. Jungwoo appears in view, his hand stretched out before him. Taeyong appears too, scowling.

Jungwoo swiftly makes his way to Donghyuck’s side and restrains his hands. As Jungwoo’s dirt wall crumbles under his command, Donghyuck catches Mark’s eye.

It sets him off again. “You think you know everything,” Mark bellows, “But you don’t! Just stay the fuck away from me!”

“Mark, that’s enough,” Taeyong says sternly.

Violent thoughts of returning the punches Mark had thrown at him floods Donghyuck’s mind. He flails wildly in Jungwoo’s arms.

Jungwoo presses a warm hand against his forehead, his palm pulsing with energy. Donghyuck almost dislodges him but their minds connect briefly, giving Jungwoo sufficient time to pry his way into Donghyuck’s mind. Instantly, Donghyuck’s body stills against his will and every angry thought dissipates. He feels an odd, but calming sensation wash over him, like he’s being sedated.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jungwoo suggests, wrapping an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder to guide him away.

Donghyuck follows obediently. He trips over his Hoverboard but fortunately, Jungwoo catches him.

“Oh no… Is that what I think it is?” he hears Jungwoo utter at the sight of the boards, but he’s not really sure. His mind is a bit fuzzy right now and he can’t think straight.

“I’ll deal with this. Just separate them for now,” Taeyong calls out calmly.

Jungwoo plucks Donghyuck’s Hoverboard off the ground. As Jungwoo tugs him away, he sees Mark glaring at Taeyong.

“You didn’t warn me!” he hears Mark exclaim accusingly, “You didn’t tell me that my father would be here today. I trusted you to tell me!”

He catches one last glimpse of them. Taeyong’s loosening his grip around Mark’s wrists, his eyes widened in confusion but his voice remains steady. “Mark, I would have told you if I had known. I genuinely didn’t know…”

Then, he’s too far away to hear the rest, their voices fading away. Jungwoo leads the way towards the Professors’ offices and Donghyuck trails after him silently.

Eventually, Jungwoo breaks the silence. He observes the Hoverboard in his arms. “Doyoung’s not going to be happy about it.”

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head grimly. “He’s not.”

Professor Cha is a tall, lean man with a cheery persona. Whilst he is easy-going and friendly with the students, he highly values respect and upholds his professionalism when required. For as long as Donghyuck has trained at the Institution, he has never seen Professor Cha frown so deeply.

He flits his eyes away from Professor Cha’s scrutinising gaze. He’s seated in a plastic chair across from Professor Cha’s desk with Jungwoo standing by his side, his arms crossed. Donghyuck wipes his clammy hands against his pants then folds them in his lap. The temporary state of tranquillity that Jungwoo had induced in him with his Yielding energy has worn off.

“So you’re telling me, Donghyuck, that Mr Lee started the fight,” Professor Cha surmises.

“No, I don’t remember who started the fight anymore,” Donghyuck sighs, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows. “We encountered his highness—by the old Willow tree—and then had an argument near the greenhouse that… escalated quickly.”

His cheek is still pulsing but not as painful in comparison to when Mark had just struck him. It’s almost dinner time but he’s not hungry anymore.

“And where does the Hoverboard fit into this?” Professor Cha probes, his voice unusually sharp.

Donghyuck pauses to weigh his options carefully. His eyes flicker to the board, laid out on the desk between him and Professor Cha. He’s already in trouble for involving himself in a physical fight and Professor Cha will definitely not be happy with how he acquired the boards. Not as unhappy as Doyoung will be when he finds out. Taking a deep steady breath, he voices his decision.

“We were playing with the boards by the old Willow tree. I borrowed the boards from Doyoung,” Donghyuck lies smoothly, gazing right into Professor Cha’s eyes. Beside him, Jungwoo tenses. Donghyuck slips a discreet hand to squeezes Jungwoo’s thigh gently.

Understanding his signal, Jungwoo stills and remains silent.

“What was this argument about?” Professor Cha continues to question.

An earlier conversation with Taeyong drifts back into his mind and Donghyuck clenches his hands at the thought. Taeyong had pulled him aside moments before he entered Professor Cha’s office.

“Donghyuck, you must understand this is private family business,” Taeyong had said in a hushed voice, ignoring the way Donghyuck twisted his mouth in anger.

“Very few professors know about Mark,” Taeyong continued urgently, “The political state of the Water Clan is… not in a good condition. If word gets out, this matter won’t just be an argument between you and Mark.” He paused, allowing Donghyuck time to process his words. Then, he requested in a serious voice, “I need you to promise me that you will not reveal Mark’s identity.”

Donghyuck clamped his mouth shut. The betrayal must have been visible on his face because Taeyong sighed loudly when he looked Donghyuck in the eye. He rested a gentle hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“Do you promise?” Taeyong squeezed his shoulder.

Reluctantly, Donghyuck nodded. He glanced upwards, only to see the expectant look on Taeyong’s face. He realised then, that Taeyong wanted him to vocalise his promise, to say it aloud.

“I promise,” he asserted.

Taeyong had pulled him into a comforting hug, whispering a quiet “thank you” in his ear before he returned to Principal Jung’s office.

“Well?” Professor Cha raises an eyebrow. He repeats his question in a firm voice, “What was the argument about?”

“It’s private business,” Donghyuck says slowly, “I don’t have… permission to say.”

Professor Cha mulls over his words, seemingly understanding what Donghyuck is implying. Eventually, he announces as he rises to his feet, “Alright. I’ll speak with Mr Lee to confirm what you have reported to me.” He strides towards the door then pauses, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “I must say, I am very disappointed that this has occurred. Your grades may be exceptional, Donghyuck, but that doesn’t mean you’re permitted to skip class. As a final year Advanced Yielding student, it is your responsibility to act as a role model for the younger students by upholding the Institution’s values. Both of you will be punished accordingly for missing class and your involvement in behaviours that violate these values. I will discuss the details of your detention later.”

Professor Cha pulls open the door, revealing a flustered looking Doyoung. “Ah Doyoung!” the professor greets, back to his usual cheery self.

“Sorry I’m late,” Doyoung apologises, sounding out of breath. “I only just heard about what had happened.”

“Not a problem, you arrived just on time.” Professor Cha reassures, “Please, make yourself comfortable. I need to drop by Principal Jung’s office but I’ll be back in a moment.” He gestures to the spare chair beside Donghyuck.

Donghyuck tenses, his palms breaking into sweat again.

“If I may, Professor Cha,” Doyoung proposes, his eyes narrowing as he spots Donghyuck over Professor Cha’s shoulder. “I would like to have a voice in deciding Donghyuck’s punishment. The incident involved my Hoverboards after all.”

Donghyuck shivers at the way Doyoung’s voice rises in pitch at the end of his sentence. He averts his gaze, blood running cold. Doyoung must have overheard the tail end of his conversation with Professor Cha. He slinks down in his chair in an attempt to make himself as invisible as possible.

“That can be arranged,” Professor Cha nods. He slips past Doyoung, striding purposefully down the hallway and towards Principal Jung’s office, where Taeyong had taken Mark.

Doyoung stalks into the room and continues to stare Donghyuck down.

Sensing the tension, Jungwoo mutters under his breath, “You know… I’m just going to… get a sip of water.” Without hesitation, he makes a beeline for the door, shutting it behind him with a loud click. Donghyuck curses under his breath.

Doyoung remains silent, standing a good few metres away from where Donghyuck’s seated. Donghyuck gulps, flitting his eyes around the room. Doyoung is seething. He feigns interest in the objects on Professor Cha’s desk, like an expensive letter opener that he would kick away first thing if Doyoung launches himself at him. His eyes skirt past the Hoverboard, then drifts to the bookshelf against the wall. He notes how all of Professor Cha’s paperwork is stacked in a neat pile and that his books are shelved in an orderly manner. Although his office is spacious, the silence is awfully suffocating and Donghyuck wants to escape.

No longer able to withstand the silence, Donghyuck clears his throat loudly. “You know,” he begins, “I know you’re pissed.” His words make Doyoung exhale noisily, nostrils flaring. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he continues frantically.

He sneaks another look at Doyoung. The nostril flaring stops and Doyoung stills.

Interpreting this as a green light to continue, Donghyuck proposes, “If you’re going to shout at me, do it now whilst I’m feeling like a piece of trash. Yell to your heart’s content.” He gulps, bracing himself. The scolding will happen eventually, so he might as well get it over and done with.

Deep within him, there’s a sliver of hope that Doyoung won’t take up on his offer and that the ugly bruise on his cheek will miraculously guilt Doyoung into feeling bad for him. But as he anticipates, Doyoung completely loses it. He yaps Donghyuck’s ear off, gesturing wildly. Donghyuck struggles to process it all, only catching a few words like ‘Hoverboard’ and ‘irresponsible’ and ‘how dare you’.

He only stops scolding when Professor Cha returns. Donghyuck almost bursts into tears of joy when Professor Cha asks him to wait outside his office.

“I’ll deal with you later,” Doyoung hisses into his ear, “Don’t think you’ve gotten away.”

He shoves him out the doorway and Donghyuck sighs in relief. His ears are ringing painfully from all the yelling. The uncomfortable plastic chair in the hallway is just starting to hurt his bottom when Professor Cha ducks a head out of his office and dismisses Donghyuck

“We’re still in discussion. You may return to the dormitory. We will inform you once we decide on the time and location of your detention.”

Doyoung’s not in sight but Donghyuck can still sense his anger. Fearing a second round of scolding, Donghyuck turns on his heels and strides briskly out of the building.

The next morning, Donghyuck rises early to avoid Mark during breakfast. Despite it being their second day together as roommates, Yukhei had been incredibly sweet and polite when Donghyuck returned to their room with a bruised cheek and dried blood on one corner of his lips. He didn’t pry about the matter and only asked if Donghyuck wanted an ice pack for his cheek.

Unlike his new roommate’s calm response, Renjun hovers around him anxiously when he sees the bruise on Donghyuck’s face at breakfast. Donghyuck waves a dismissive hand at him when Renjun begins to nag about seeing a Healer.

Unsatisfied, Renjun presses on, “Then at least let me Heal you—”

“Leave it, it fuels my anger.”

Renjun frowns deeply, “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Jaemin, who had just settled into his seat beside Donghyuck, perks up at this, having heard about last night’s events through the grapevine. He leans closer, “Yeah, what happened?”

Something snaps inside Donghyuck.

“Fuck off,” he snarls at them, uncharacteristically angry towards his friends, “It’s none of your business.” Renjun reels back and he feels a little bad when his friend remains quiet for the rest of breakfast. He considers talking to his friends about it, but definitely on another day, when he’s not constantly moments away from bursting into flames from the anger boiling inside him. At the sight of Jeno and Mark arriving for breakfast, he plucks the last piece of toast off his plate and rises to leave the dining hall.

None of his friends pry about the fight for the rest of the day. By some miracle, Donghyuck manages to avoid Mark during lunch too. This helps him cool down a little and by early afternoon, he begins to feel more like himself again. Even the note that he receives during his last class informing him the time and location of his detention doesn’t affect his mood.

After dinner, he ambles towards the greenhouse, taking his sweet time because detention is bound to be with Jungwoo.

Jungwoo may be sharing a room with Mark but Donghyuck is confident that the older boy will not take Mark’s side and that he will treat him kindly, even if the detention is meant to be a punishment. Besides, Jungwoo is an Earth Yielder too, and naturally, Earth Yielders stick together.

“Jungwoo!” Donghyuck calls cheerfully, bounding up the steps of the greenhouse. He has yet to thank his older friend for helping him yesterday.

He nearly misses the last step at the sight of Doyoung.

“You’re late,” Doyoung scolds, his voice dangerously quiet.

He’s itching to make a comment about how he was meant to be meeting Jungwoo, but Doyoung’s glaring down at him, arms crossed. He’s also exhaling noisily through his nostrils, so Donghyuck immediately clamps his mouth shut.

Doyoung begins to explain his punishment and Donghyuck remains as silent and still as he can, not daring to move a muscle. “Jungwoo needs help with the—” But everything after that becomes muffled, like he’s underwater. It’s really hard to process anything that is coming out of Doyoung’s mouth when he is clearly seconds away from a major outburst.

At the end of the long-winded explanation, Donghyuck surveys his surroundings and connects the dots by himself. Judging by the large pile of dirt Doyoung keeps gesturing to outside and a bundle of white sacks that usually holds fertiliser—Doyoung must be asking him to shift the dirt into bags.

“Right, easy.” Donghyuck pushes up the sleeves of his plaid button up. He takes two deep breaths to concentrate his energy, palms instantly warming up.

Doyoung makes a noise of disapproval. “No Yielding.” He procures a shovel and nudges it in Donghyuck’s direction.

Donghyuck accepts the shovel, wrinkling his nose in disgust. At first, he half-heartedly shovels at the dirt but it soon becomes clear that Doyoung isn’t going to leave. At least not until he starts properly. Donghyuck laughs nervously and begins to shovel earnestly.

“Come report to me when you’re done,” Doyoung spits, turning on his heels. Then, he pauses a few steps later. “Use the shovel,” he warns, pointing at the security cameras in the far corners of the greenhouse, “I’ll be watching.”

Over two hours later, Donghyuck shovels the final load of fertiliser into the remaining sack. He’s sweating like crazy and his button up shirt lays in a heap on the ground, long abandoned. He must have filled at least fifteen sacks.

“So much fricking dirt,” he grumbles. He still doesn’t understand why he has to shovel dirt for detention when Jungwoo is more than competent at shifting dirt with his own Yielding abilities.

On his way out, he retrieves his button-up shirt. The door shuts behind him with a loud click but he double checks it anyway to make sure it’s really locked. Doyoung doesn’t need any more reasons to shout at him. His tank top is drenched in sweat and he has dirt smudged across his arms and legs. Pinching his top, he attempts to fan himself, but it does little to cool him down.

The areas surrounding the greenhouse are completely deserted as he trudges towards Doyoung’s lab. He finds Doyoung standing by his work bench, fiddling with a Hoverboard that looked awfully like the one he had played with. The sight of the board makes Donghyuck’s palms clammy.

He clears his throat, announcing his presence. “I’m done.”

Doyoung doesn’t look up, glasses perched on his nose. He fishes for something in the toolbox propped open beside him. “Come back tomorrow night, same time. Don’t be late.”

Words of protest nearly slip off the tip of Donghyuck’s tongue but he swallows them down when Doyoung finally spares him a glance, eyes sharp and still scowling. Any other day, Donghyuck wouldn’t hesitate to poke fun at the spot where Doyoung’s eyebrows are pinched and tease him about wrinkles, but he knows that he really crossed the line this time. He slinks out of the labs before Doyoung actually hurts him, just from the way he keeps glaring Donghyuck down.

Doyoung can be ruthless if provoked and Donghyuck would prefer not to experience the full intensity of Doyoung’s wrath, especially not after playing with the boards.

Yukhei is nowhere in sight when he finally returns to his dorm. He frowns, wondering where his new roommate might be at this hour. He rummages through his chest of drawers for clean clothes. Yukhei will have to wait—Donghyuck will get around to finding him. First, he needs a nice long shower to rid himself of the dirt and grime.

Whistling to himself, he strolls down the hallway to the showers. He nearly walks into someone at the bathroom entrance. “Sorry,” he grunts, looking up to see who it is. His face contorts.

Mark scowls back at him, ramming his shoulder against Donghyuck’s as he pushes past.

“Liar,” Donghyuck mutters under his breath.

Mark stops in his steps. “Why are you so fucking nosy? Mind your own goddamn business.”

He clenches his fists, barely holding back a string of colourful swear words. Before he has the opportunity to screech them out at the top of his lungs, Mark has already disappeared around the corner and back into his room. His door slams loudly behind him, echoing in the hallway. It has only been 24-hours since their fight and Donghyuck hopes he never sees Mark again.

As the hot water cascades over Donghyuck’s body, he scrubs hard at his arms and legs, hoping Mark and all of his stupid lies will wash itself down the drain along with the dirt. He also digs his fingers into the blooming bruise on his cheekbone and scrubs extra hard there for good measure.

Anger is still simmering deep in his stomach once he returns to his room from his shower, the encounter with Mark fresh on his mind, but at least he feels refreshed and clean again. Luckily, Yukhei has returned to their room, saving him from a late night expedition. He towels his hair dry, frowning at the way Yukhei’s hovering around Donghyuck’s desk.

“What are you doing?” Donghyuck blinks at him in surprise as he realises that his new roommate is rearranging the items on his desk for him.

“Cleaning,” Yukhei replies, humming softly. He rearranges Donghyuck’s books into neat stacks and lines up his pot plants into a neat row. Much unlike Donghyuck’s first impression of him, Yukhei is a tidier person than Donghyuck had anticipated.

“But it’s already clean though,” he protests, shuffling towards his table nervously. Yukhei raises an eyebrow at him. “Okay, it’s not as pristine as yours but it shows—” he waves at the mess around his desk, omitting the stuff stashed haphazardly under his chair. “Character,” he concludes, “It shows how interesting I am. I am someone you cannot unravel and decipher at a simple glance.”

“How do you even find anything amongst this mess?” Yukhei argues. He retrieves a feather duster from his own desk and begins to dust around Donghyuck’s plants. At the brush of Yukhei’s feather duster, they begin to titter noisily.

Donghyuck sticks his arm in between Yukhei and his plants. “Thanks for your help, I’ll clean this myself over the weekend.” There’s a flash of confusion on Yukhei’s face then he shrugs and resumes humming.

When Yukhei wanders back to his desk, Donghyuck reprimands his plants under his breath. “Quit embarrassing me.”

He narrows his eyes at the tallest plant at the end of his desk, its small blooming flowers threatening to shed, “Especially you!” It squeaks in reply, leaves rustling frantically. Donghyuck hisses back, raising his voice a little, “I don’t care if he’s charming, stop this right now!”

Yukhei guffaws from his chair. “I’m flattered.”

Donghyuck turns away, cheeks flushed. He waves a hand over his plants, showering them with energy, or ‘fairy dust’, as his little sunflower supplies helpfully. It effectively quietens them and within seconds, they fall into deep sleep.

“It’s fascinating how you talk to them,” Yukhei comments. Donghyuck blinks owlishly at him, recalling how Taeyong had made a similar comment just a few days ago. “Can they hear you?”

“Oh sure they can.” His little sunflower is still chirping. He tickles its little leaves, urging it to sleep. “They’re noisy little things. Non-stop chitter-chatter.”

“Non-stop chitter-chatter? Sounds just like us!” Yukhei comments and they both burst into laughter. He continues in a softer voice, “But you love them though.” Donghyuck nods in agreement and they share a soft smile.

Donghyuck yawns, exhaustion setting in. Shovelling dirt is hard work after all. “Alright, I’m going to bed.” He scales the bunk ladder and settles under the covers. It will take a while to get used to sleeping on the top bunk again but he doesn’t really have a choice. Yukhei’s far too tall to sleep comfortably on the top bunk so Donghyuck offered to swap.

He’s drifting off to sleep when Yukhei says, “Oh, before I forget, your girlfriend came by to see you earlier.”

“Girlfriend?” he echoes, cracking an eye open. “I don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Sure you don’t,” Yukhei grins at him. He stands up and gestures around his shoulder. “She’s about this height.” But Yukhei’s so goddamn tall it’s really hard to tell how tall the girl really is beside him. “Very pretty with long red hair,” he adds after a pause.

At the mention of long red hair, only one person comes to mind. Donghyuck bursts into laughter. “That’s my sister, you idiot.”

Yukhei flashes him a bewildered look. “You have a sister? Why did you tell me?” He ignores Donghyuck’s quiet snort (“Yukhei, we’ve only met for like, 48-hours”) and continues, “You two look nothing alike!”

“Yeah, we’re not related by blood.” He huddles further into his blankets.

“Oh,” Yukhei strokes his chin, confused. “So you just call each other siblings even though you’re not related? Because you’re really close?”

Donghyuck shrugs, “Something like that.”

His sister comes from a family with a very faint history of Yielding. Both her birth parents are Commoners—non-Yielders who did not possess Yielding abilities. They were bewildered when she exhibited first signs of Earth Yielding and eventually made the decision to offer her up for adoption, hoping a family of Yielders can better cater for her learning needs. Once a year, they return to visit her birth parents, often during the holidays.

He closes his eyes, reminiscing the day his parents had adopted Yerim. He was turning five at the time and she was six. She may have been adopted into the family but he doesn’t love her any less. In fact, the day she officially became his big sister remains the best day of his life.

With the number of shared classes the Earth Clan has with the Water Clan, it becomes progressively harder to avoid Mark. It’s also extremely difficult when they share the same group of friends. Donghyuck falls into the routine of waking early to avoid the usual rush of students and of course, Mark, at the dining hall during breakfast. His friends would join him, one at a time, as he wolfs down his food. Often Renjun is the first to arrive, then Jeno or Jaemin would join. By the time Mark arrives for breakfast, Donghyuck would be long gone and well on his way to the greenhouse to kill time before class.

It’s harder at lunch and dinner, when everyone arrives to eat at the same time. Donghyuck now sits with Yukhei and his table of new friends, a mix of Light and Fire Yielders. There’s something charming about Yukhei that bridges the gap between the Yielders from the two Clans, bringing them together harmoniously.

This arrangement began a few days after the fight. Not long after Donghyuck had set his lunch down at their usual table, Mark appeared behind him with his own tray of food. Jeno, who was in the middle of recounting an event, had cut off and the table fell silent as Mark and Donghyuck stared each other down. After a moment, Donghyuck broke the silence, pushing his chair back with a screech. He picked up his tray and left the table without looking back. He was planning to skip lunch but then Yukhei had waved him over to his table.

“When will you come back and sit with us at the dining hall?” Jeno asks as they walk towards the water fountain during a short class break.

“What do you mean? I still sit with you,” Donghyuck feigns confusion, swinging his empty water bottle around.

The sky’s an ugly shade of grey. The looming clouds hang heavily, pregnant with rainwater and it’s making Jeno extra jittery. In fact, it’s making all of the Water Yielders restless, their bodies charged with extra energy. Even after all these years of training around the Water Yielders, Donghyuck still finds it frustrating to hang around them when the sky is on the brink of a big storm.

“You only sit with us for breakfast though. We miss your presence, Hyuckie. Why don’t you talk things through with Mark…?” Jeno suggests gently.

“No,” Donghyuck replies firmly.

“I just wish you guys would talk again, all of us do.” They continue down the hallway in uncomfortable silence. “Will you at least tell us why you and Mark aren’t talking though?”

Donghyuck ignores him. He twists the tap to fill his bottle but nothing flows out, not a single drop water. He knocks the side of the tap with his knuckle, confused. Then, from the corner of his eye, he sees Jeno’s hand curled in a tight fist. He elbows Jeno, “Dude, knock it off. Let me fill my bottle.”

Jeno shakes his head and continues to hold the water back, preventing it from flowing through the taps, “Answer me.”

“Alright, it’s about his identity and who he really is,” Donghyuck snaps. “Happy? Now let me fill my bottle in peace.”

Water begins to flow out of the tap again, but Jeno doesn’t respond. He stills, becoming unusually quiet.

Donghyuck narrows his eyes, recognising the look on Jeno’s face. He holds himself back, listening for the telltale change in pitch as his bottle fills up with water.

“You knew,” he says accusingly when he’s done. Jeno’s lips press into a tight line, confirming his suspicions. Donghyuck swivels the cap back onto his bottle. “You knew about his father.”

Jeno runs a hand through his hair, eyebrows pinched in frustration, “Look, it’s a lot more complicated than you think. I only know because…” He lowers his voice, “My mother is the Water Clan leader’s Advisor. I’ve known Mark—”

“Since you were very young,” Donghyuck finishes for him. He takes a step back and lets out a hollow laugh. “Well, since you’ve been lying with him, I guess it’s clear that you’re on his side.”

“I’m not taking sides, Donghyuck. None of us has so far and it will stay that way. We just want you and Mark to—”

Donghyuck doesn’t let him finish. He turns on his heels and walks briskly back to class. After this conversation, Jeno doesn’t approach him about the fight again.

It rains heavily that Friday afternoon, mirroring Donghyuck’s low mood as he broods in the comfort of his bed. His plants are chirping at the falling rain, begging him to open the windows. They always do this, always curious and eager to feel the rain.

“Shush, you’ll drown in the heavy rain,” he chides.

He falls into deep thought, the familiar pitter-patter of raindrops lulling him into a stupor. His eyelids begin to feel heavy. Waking early buys him extra time in the morning to reconnect with nature. He usually finds himself watering the plants alongside Jungwoo at the greenhouse, but it’s extremely taxing. His body, used to having an extra hour of sleep, isn’t adjusting well to this new schedule. Turning his body, he burrows himself into his blankets and succumbs to exhaustion.

The skies are clear when he wakes. Hues of red and orange stain the horizon as the sun rises. Yukhei is still sound asleep, snoring loudly. Donghyuck squints at the clock, realising that he had slept through the night and missed dinner. He stumbles down the bunk ladder and makes a beeline for his plants. They’re asleep too, but as he approaches his table, they sense his energy and perk up, one by one.

“Eat up,” he says softly, hovering his palm around them. He showers them with Yielding energy and they chatter happily. From its pot on his table, his little sunflower squeaks loudly for his attention. Chest warming, he shuffles over and showers it with energy. But his little sunflower droops and continues to blabber, ruffling its little petals. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

After some coaxing, he discovers that his little plant is upset about not being about to feel the sun yesterday. “It was your first rainfall wasn’t it?” he coos, “Don’t you worry, the sun will always come back out again. I promise you.”

Donghyuck migrates his little sunflower to the window sill. He rearranges the pots around to make space for its smaller pot, settling it beside his other sunflowers. “There you go, you can stay here instead. Even more sunshine from here,” he says reassuringly, thumbing at its leaves until his little sunflower calms down.

He tends to the other plants on the window sill, humming under his breath. He pauses again when his little sunflower chirps again.

“Behind you?” he interprets. “What’s behind me?” He turns to see Yukhei standing behind him, watching him with a warm look in his eyes. “Oh, morning!” he blushes profusely, wondering how long Yukhei had been standing there.

“Morning.” Yukhei greets with a sleepy smile on his face. “What are you up to today?”

Donghyuck taps his chin, “Don’t know, I haven’t decided.”

“I was wondering if you were free to show me around here.”

“Oh, are you still unfamiliar with the buildings?” He tilts his head questioningly at Yukhei. It has been almost two weeks since Yukhei had arrived.

Yukhei shakes his head and clarifies, “I meant other places, like the river.”

Donghyuck ponders over this for a moment. Within the Institution’s grounds, there are two notable bodies of water. A grand lake situated behind the forest near the old Willow tree and a river that flows in from the East to the West, cutting through the borders of the Light Clan and winding into the Air Clan.

“Sure, let’s go to the river then?” Donghyuck smiles.

Yukhei nods enthusiastically, looking more alert.

Donghyuck’s stomach growls loudly and they both burst into laughter. They head down to the dining hall for breakfast together, agreeing to leave for the river after filling their stomachs with food.

The competency exams start as a rumour.

Donghyuck doesn’t know who started such a silly rumour, but it spreads like wildfire. One moment, no one is talking about it and the next, it’s the only thing everyone is discussing. He hears it in the hallway, in the dining hall, during class breaks. He hears it everywhere.

So when Jaemin mentions it over breakfast, Donghyuck scoffs immediately. “Don’t be ridiculous.” A slice of toast in hand, he waves dismissively at his friends. “That can’t possibly be true.”

Jaemin hums thoughtfully but Jeno frowns into his cereal.

“I hope it’s not true,” Jeno mutters, spooning another mouthful into his mouth.

At Jeno’s words, Renjun hums into his food too, albeit a little sadly. The conversation dies but Donghyuck knows that his friends are still thinking about it. He shoves the remainder of his toast into his mouth, ignoring the way his friends brood over the rumour.

But as Professor Kim confirms this rumour in the middle of Earth Yielding class, a week after it began to circulate the student body, Donghyuck's heart cannot possibly beat any faster. It’s Friday afternoon and Donghyuck thinks they deserve a break, not this.

His eight peers from the Earth Clan, scattered around the room, look equally stunned. Donghyuck's eyes flicker from face to face, searching wildly. To his far left, he finds Renjun sitting with his back pressed against the wall. His face has become awfully pale.

“Is this for real?” Someone pipes up behind him.

Donghyuck is tempted to add “Is this some kind of joke?” but he keeps his mouth shut when a deep frown etches onto Professor Kim’s face.

“Yes, Mr Park. It has come to the Board’s attention that students from previous years are not at a competent level of Yielding when they complete their Advanced Yielding training. We require a much higher level of competence than currently. The Board has decided to address this by increasing the number of and the difficulty of the exams.”

Professor Kim drawls on about some necessary Education Reform and the meaningful introduction of competency exams. Donghyuck drowns him out. This is just another exam period, he chants in his mind. This is his final year and he’s made it this far so these exams shouldn’t strike him down like this. They should be the same as all other exams he has ever completed. He stares at the foam mats lining the floor, feeling every beat of his heart as it pounds against his chest.

Just as Professor Kim divulges the most important piece of information, Donghyuck tunes back in.

“In fact, your first competency exam will be in less than two week’s time.”

Donghyuck snaps his head up to gape at his professor in horror, his peers sporting similar looks. A few begin to murmur in protest but Professor Kim shushes them.

“It will be a replica of the real exam used to assess Yielders who wish to pursue a Fieldwork agent career. It will be hosted at an off-site exam arena. The same examination rules to the original Fieldwork competency exam will apply. This means that the students with scores in the bottom one-third will be deemed unsuccessful. These students will complete a vigorous training program and a supplementary exam.

“You will have 48 hours to work in your allocated teams of three to complete your assigned tasks. Your team members will be fellow peers from the same Clan. The students from the other Clans will be examined simultaneously, but they will be assigned with different missions to complete.

“Teamwork is a huge part of passing this task and you must demonstrate that you are capable of working professionally in a team. When you are out in the workforce, regardless of which career path you pursue, you will have to work in a team. Often you won’t have a say in who you are working with. However, I have utmost confidence that you guys will pull through without any trouble. The teamwork you have shown over the years is something I pride myself in as the Head of our Clan.”

Donghyuck agrees with Professor Kim. The thought of having to stay overnight in a foreign place doesn’t sound all too appealing, but he is confident that his fellow Earth Yielders will help each other through this. After all, the nine of them have become very close since they met on day one of Intermediate Yielding. They started their training together and they will continue to stick together as they complete their final year of training.

To Donghyuck’s surprise, Renjun speaks up. “Professor Kim, this is disadvantageous to Earth Yielders. As the Head of the students from the Earth Clan, you should understand us most, especially in comparison to other Yielding professors.”

Everyone begins to nod frantically in agreement, even Donghyuck.

Renjun continues to challenge the professor in a firm and steady voice, “What if we don’t want to be a Fieldwork agent? What if some of us want to pursue careers in research, in education, or most importantly, in Healing?”

The class echoes with a unanimous, “Yeah!”

Renjun is right. Over half of them in this cohort will end up training as Healers after this year.

“I understand where you’re coming from, Renjun,” Professor Kim sighs. “But I’m afraid I won’t be of much help. As I’m not on the Board, my opinion won’t be taken into account. The Board did emphasise that this will not be an official Fieldwork competency exam. This will train your overall Yielding competency and aid your growth towards a satisfactory level, but it will have no direct correlation to the career paths you wish to pursue.”

The class grumbles and Professor Kim permits them to talk among themselves for ten minutes before he resumes teaching. Donghyuck clambers to his feet unsteadily and ambles over to Renjun.

“We’re going to have to stay overnight,” Donghyuck says, feeling queasy at the thought.

Renjun flops against Donghyuck and lays his head in his lap. “That is the least of my worries,” he grumbles. “You’re an Earth Yielder, for goodness sake. Just build a makeshift dirt house or something.”

Donghyuck balks at Renjun’s suggestion. “That makes everything sound much more appealing. Thank you, Renjun,” Donghyuck huffs sarcastically.

“Please,” Renjun scoffs, “With your ability to bond with the plants, you can sit your gifted ass in a treehouse whilst the rest of us sleep in dirt houses.”

Donghyuck digs his fingers into Renjun’s side, pleased when Renjun flails and shrieks.

At the news of the upcoming Fieldwork exam, his peers across the Clans become increasingly serious about training and Donghyuck also feels the need to sharpen his abilities.

During class time, he practises vigorously with his Earth Yielding peers, and outside of class, he finds himself practising with Jaemin, more frequently than he expects himself to. On most days, they would hang around the Simulation rooms and practise individually. Occasionally, Jeno and Renjun would join them and they would hang around the tall grass field by the old Willow tree and practise together, testing each other’s limitations in Yielding when faced with a Yielder from a different Clan.

He appreciates spending more time with his friends again. Over the past fortnight, knowing that his friends would invite Mark along too, he had stopped accepting their invitations to play by the river or in the forest by the old Willow tree. They continue to be hopeful that he would reconcile with Mark, if provided with a supportive environment to do so.

But that’s never going to happen, Donghyuck’s certain. So not hanging out with them has become the easier option.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Doyoung comments as he sketches.

It’s Saturday afternoon, the weekend before the exam, and Donghyuck should be out practising Yielding or at least doing something productive. Instead, he finds himself seeking refuge in Doyoung’s labs. His older friend has cooled down and returned to his friendly self again, provided that Donghyuck keeps his hands to himself.

Donghyuck sighs. “I’m tired and stressed,” he mumbles sadly.

He leans against Doyoung’s workbench, nestling his head in the crook of his arms. The tension among his peers is building and Donghyuck’s starting to feel it too. The ongoing training is exhausting. He’s tired to the bone after each practice session and he knocks out the moment his head hits the pillow. It’s a change to his old routines, a new constant in his life that he welcomes with open arms. But he wonders how long he will last before he breaks.

“Stressed about what?” Doyoung asks seriously, riffling through his desk drawer. He makes a small noise of triumph when he finds the eraser he was looking for.

“This upcoming exam I have.”

Doyoung hums sympathetically. He erases a part of his prototype drawing, rubbing rigorously at the paper. “I heard about that. They’re trying to set it up and between you and me, it’s a bit of a mess right now. I must say though, I am very impressed with your Yielding abilities.”

Donghyuck raises his head to peer at Doyoung.

Doyoung stops erasing to look back at him. Sensing Donghyuck’s confusion, he elaborates, “Every now and then, I get sent up to the Simulation rooms to fix up system errors and I always see you practising in there. So don’t worry, you’ll be fine. You are more than capable.”

Donghyuck’s chest warms at Doyoung’s rare praise. He nestles his head back into the crook of his arm. “Thanks,” he mumbles into his arm, “Really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.” He ruffles Donghyuck’s hair and says fondly, “Can’t stand by and watch my most annoying friend wallow in sad feelings.”

“I’m your favourite, don’t deny the truth.”

Doyoung locks his head in a head choke and they play around for a bit. Doyoung only releases his hold when one of the seniors working in the laboratory next door drops by to scold them. They freeze, not daring to move until she leaves. Donghyuck sniggers into his hand the moment she’s out of sight and Doyoung laughs with him when they make eye contact.

It takes a while for the laughter to fade away. When they’re both calm again, Doyoung raises the blinds above Donghyuck’s head to let more light into the room. Donghyuck lays his head back down on the table and watches Doyoung as he returns to work in silence. It’s been a while since he has had the chance to rest under the sun. He basks under the patch of sunlight seeping through the small window, soaking in the warmth like his little plants. Slowly, the building stress within him dissipates.

Doyoung is the first to break the silence. He eyes Donghyuck, then flits his eyes away when Donghyuck catches him.

Just as Donghyuck is about to ask him what’s on his mind, Doyoung declares, “Taeyong told me about your fight with Mark.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck replies dully.

“In detail,” Doyoung adds, “I know about… I know what you found out.” Donghyuck doesn’t respond. He lays unmoving, the sunlight beginning to burn his back. So Doyoung continues, “Why haven’t you talked to Mark about it yet?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Donghyuck says sharply. “Things are just the way it is.” His jaw tightens as Doyoung continues, anticipating a round of scolding.

“I’m not expecting you to repair this friendship,” Doyoung says carefully. “At least, not immediately. Donghyuck, I’ve known both of you for years. I might not know as much about Mark as I do about you, but even with the way this situation unfolded—private family business and what not—I understand why you’re hurting. You’re someone who trusts very easily, but also very deeply, and above all, you value honesty more than anything.”

Donghyuck blinks back at Doyoung. He hadn’t expected Doyoung to be so… understanding and gentle about it. With Taeyong defending Mark, he really hadn’t expected anyone to pause and see the situation from his eyes.

Doyoung rests a warm hand on his shoulder. “I’m here if you want to talk things through, you know? I’ve had my fair share of fights with my own friends and I’m not saying that I’m great at repairing my friendships after a fight, but I do hope I can offer you some guidance and a fresh perspective.”

He thinks hard for a moment, slowly processing Doyoung’s words. This whole situation has become a mess and at times, Donghyuck catches himself wondering why it made him so angry in the first place. But Doyoung is right. He is someone who trusts deeply and it is because of this, he is certain that this friendship with Mark will never be repaired.

“Alright thanks, I’ll think about it,” Donghyuck announces. Doyoung’s hand is still resting on his shoulder. He places a hand on top of Doyoung’s and squeezes it gently. He might not need it, but he greatly appreciates this gesture of support.

Content with Donghyuck’s response, Doyoung drops the subject. As Doyoung turns back to his drawings, Donghyuck disturbs him with a loud yawn. The wave of fatigue he had experienced earlier has returned.

He whips his head around to frown deeply at Donghyuck, who still has his mouth wide open. He reaches a hand out to push Donghyuck’s jaw shut. “Keep that mouth shut. I don’t need to see your uvula every time you yawn.”

Donghyuck yawns noisily again, savouring the look of displeasure Doyoung sends him. He makes sure to smack his lips too.

“I’m going to get going. I could do with a good nap,” he says hastily, eyeing the hand Doyoung has raised to smack him with.

“What? Lee Donghyuck having a nap when the sun’s out? Go hang out with your friends!” Doyoung pinches his cheeks. Donghyuck waves a dismissive hand and Doyoung pulls him into another head choke, ruffling his hair mercilessly. “Where’s the troublemaker Donghyuck I know? Where did you hide him?”

“Is this an invitation to try your boards again?” Donghyuck replies teasingly.

Doyoung snaps his mouth shut. He pats Donghyuck’s cheeks sharply and releases his hold. “No,” he says sternly. “No touching, remember?”

“I know, I know. I wouldn’t dare.” And Donghyuck means it this time.

He hears Doyoung call out as he heads out the door. “I heard from Jungwoo that your sister is looking for you. You should go see her soon!”

Donghyuck salutes in Doyoung’s direction and heads back to his dorm for an afternoon nap. With the fight and the extra effort he had put into training lately, he had completely forgotten to visit his sister. It’s been a while since they last met so he really should visit her immediately, but the temptation of napping away the rest of his afternoon is too great. Yerim can wait.

The thought of napping, however, is tucked to the back of his mind when he runs into Yukhei outside the dormitory building.

“Wanna hang out?” Yukhei suggests, “My friends and I are going to the lake.”

The invitation is made more enticing with the way Yukhei is beaming down at him, an expectant look in his eyes. He thinks of Doyoung’s words, then glances to the afternoon sun. Donghyuck tosses up his options and figures sleep can wait too. He could do with a break. His days have become rather dull with the endless training.

So ten minutes later, Donghyuck finds himself heading towards the old Willow tree with Yukhei bounding at his heels. The grass murmurs at him as he approaches the field, rustling in synchronisation with the wind. The tall grass in the field is as tall as he remembers it to be. They reach his chest, almost touching his chin, and he has to crane his neck to see beyond the grass. He raises both hands and in a fluid motion, he draws his palms outwards. The tall grass parts before him, revealing a clear dirt path that leads towards the bottom of the hill.

“Wow! That’s a fancy trick to have under your belt,” Yukhei exclaims, fascinated by the temporary walkway Donghyuck has created.

The displaced grass tickle Donghyuck’s heels as they fall back in place behind him. “Not everyone can see past the tall grass with ease like you, Yukhei,” Donghyuck replies, amused, “At least share some of your height with me.”

Yukhei immediately stoops so he’s the same height as Donghyuck. They shove at each other jokingly as they roam through the field. Yukhei continues to chatter. He makes light-hearted comments like how the grass parting reminds him of the way people line up along the sides of the stone footpaths back home and bow down to the Clan leaders respectfully as they pass through the villages. He also shares his excitement about seeing the lake for the first time. “I’ve heard so much about it!” he gushes and Donghyuck chuckles at this.

A number of Yukhei’s friends are already waiting for them under the tree. Donghyuck’s familiar with their faces and names, after all, this is his sixth year training with most of them. Until he began sitting with them at the dining hall, he never had any reason or purpose to engage with them. He’s certain that most of them have noticed the ongoing tension between him and Mark, but they have all been polite and have not questioned Donghyuck’s presence within their group.

As they set off for the river once the last of Yukhei’s friends arrive, Yeonhee, a girl from the Light Clan, remarks, “What do you guys think about the recent Education Reform?”

Donghyuck, who was intently looking at his feet as he walked, looks up at the sound of Yukhei cackling loudly in the distance. Unable to contain his excitement, Yukhei had shifted to the front of the group to join some of the guys from the Light Clan that are leading the way. Donghyuck watches fondly as Yukhei talks animatedly to the group, his loud voice travelling through the forest.

“I hate how they changed the requirements to graduate!” Someone exclaims behind Donghyuck. “As if Advanced Yielding isn’t hard enough already.

“Right?” Yeonhee frowns, “I barely passed that Precision Exam we had last month.”

A third speaker adds, “Urgh, I know! I’m really not looking forward to that Fieldwork Exam next week.”

Yeonhee’s chest heaves as she sighs, “What can we do? We’re just little checkers in this large board game to the higher-ups.”

Donghyuck nibbles his lower lip. A few others pipe up and join the discussion but he tunes out their voices. Then, a thought dawns on him. He gazes forlornly at the old Willow tree over his shoulder, mulling over the memories from the last time he was here with the Hoverboards. These recent changes—could they be the changes Mark’s father had mentioned when he visited with the Minister of Education?

The old Willow tree disappears from view as they move deeper into the forest. He sighs, drowning out the memories. Instead, he focuses on the murmuring of the trees, the distant chirping of birds, and the way the ground buzzes as they trample through the forest. Not long after, the unmistakable sound of a burbling brook drift in their direction and the grand lake appears before them.

“Wow!” Yukhei exclaims when Donghyuck finally catches up to him, a wide grin on his face. “This is beautiful!”

Donghyuck smiles back. “Impressive huh?”

He removes his shoes and rolls up his pants so that they gather just above his knees. It’s been a while since he last visited the lake. Jeno’s always buzzing with energy before they enter the water. They would sit side by side, their ankles dipped in the shallow end of the lake. He shuffles to sit at the edge of a large rock, dangling his feet just above the water’s surface.

Yukhei tugs his shirt off and bounds past him, hopping into the water without hesitation. The water sloshes, leaving a wet patch on Donghyuck’s thigh.

“Yukhei!” Donghyuck whines.

Yukhei has a toothy grin on his face and before Donghyuck has time to register this look, he runs a hand through the water and sends a small wave towards Donghyuck.

Donghyuck sputters, immediately climbing to his feet. He wipes the water off his face and surveys his body. His shirt is completely drenched. Without warning, he launches himself at Yukhei, who loses his footing with a helpless yelp. They both fall into the water with a loud splash.

Unlike Yukhei, who had dipped into the water fearlessly, his friends watch from a distance. A few of them, mainly the Fire Yielders, toe at the edge of the water. They don’t seem particularly comfortable with entering the water, Donghyuck notes, but they chatter amongst themselves happily. Jaemin had been equally uneasy at the large body of water when they visited the lake back when they first began Intermediate Yielding. Over the years, however, Jeno and Mark had desensitised him and he now joins them when they all dive in for a swim.

He gazes at Yukhei fondly as his taller friend scrambles back onto his feet. The markings on Yukhei’s face glistens under the sun. Donghyuck marvels at the silver swirls, eyes avoiding the hard lines of Yukhei’s defined upper body.

Over the course of the past month, Donghyuck has been pleasantly surprised as he learned that Yukhei does not conform to stereotypes the way everyone expects him to. He’s not serious and composed, the way all the Yielders associated with Clan Leaders appear to be. Instead, he’s unexpectedly boisterous, turning heads wherever they go. He doesn’t look like a Fire Yielder, nor does he possess the ability to manipulate light, yet he has no trouble fitting in the crowd. In fact, he doesn’t fit in—Yukhei creates crowds.

There’s something about Yukhei that charms those around him, attracting them all wildly the way sweet nectar does with bees. He had voiced this particular thought to Yukhei once as they lined up for lunch.

Yukhei guffawed at Donghyuck’s words, unfazed as multiple heads turned in their direction. “You’re not bad yourself.”

Donghyuck wrinkled his nose. “I’m more like honey. You know, attract a bunch of flies and get myself in trouble,” he said bitterly.

“Are you calling me a fly?” Yukhei smirked over his shoulder. He collected two trays, passing one back to Donghyuck.

Donghyuck prodded him sharply in the back. “Well,” he said slowly, “You haven’t gotten me in trouble yet so I’d say no for now.”

“For now,” Yukhei echoed, then cackled when Donghyuck rolled his eyes.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts when Yukhei dashes wildly in his direction. He lets out a shrill cry as Yukhei tackles him unexpectedly, lifting him over his shoulder with ease. Cackling loudly, Yukhei begins to tread through the water, heading right towards the deeper end of the lake. Draped over Yukhei’s shoulder, Donghyuck watches in horror as the water level rises from the backs of Yukhei’s knees to his thighs then his waist.

He punches Yukhei’s back and calls weakly, “Let me down!” Seconds later, Yukhei grants his wish. He releases his hold and Donghyuck plops into the water helplessly.

They play around like this for a while and eventually, a few of Yukhei’s friends join in but they linger around the edge of the lake. As they migrate back towards the shallow end to join them, Donghyuck feels the urge to go to the toilet.

“I’m going to pee,” he announces, wading out of the water.

He expects Yukhei’s friends to stare at him as he steps out of the water but they merely wave at him as he passes and carries on with their conversations. One of them even suggests drying his clothes for him, an offer which he accepts gratefully, though he’s tempted to edge away when they hover a flaming palm over his body.

Donghyuck rushes into the forest, only stopping when he’s sure that there’s no one around him and does his business in a secluded bush. He’s strolling back towards the lake when the earth vibrates gently deep beneath the surface of the ground. He doesn’t think too much into it at first, but as he approaches the treeline, he hears a hushed voice.

He catches parts of the conversation, “I’m happy to swap… not sure if your father will like it…” Donghyuck pauses in his steps, frowning deeply as he wracks his brain. The voice is awfully familiar but he can’t seem to put a finger on it.

A second speaker replies, louder and clearer than the first, and Donghyuck reels back in horror. “I don’t care, I just don’t want to be on the same team as him.”

Unmistakably, the second voice belongs to Mark.

Moments later, Mark appears in view with Jeno beside him. They don’t notice him at first, but as Donghyuck ducks behind a tree, Mark catches the motion from the corner of his eye.

“Never knew eavesdropping was your thing, Lee Donghyuck,” Mark snaps.

Donghyuck reveals himself. “I was just passing by.” He tilts his head haughtily, “Don’t act like anything you have to say is worth listening to.”

Satisfaction blooms in his chest when Mark seethes at his words. Mark rushes forward, his arm poised to hurl the water ball forming in his hand. This triggers a rush of energy within Donghyuck, his fingertips almost sparking from the way the energy is burning to be released.

“Not here.” Jeno intervenes, hissing at Mark under his breath.

He digs his elbow into Mark’s side, but Mark doesn’t stand down.

“Mark, don’t. Your father will hear about this.” Jeno pleads, curling his fingers into the back of Mark’s shirt.

Donghyuck sneers. “That’s right, don’t want daddy to hear about this huh? I’m sure that wouldn’t go down too well.”

“Wanna say that again?” Mark challenges, clenching his hand. The water ball in his hand hardens into ice.

“I’m sure he won’t be too pleased when he hears that you’ve been out here starting fights instead of training,” Donghyuck continues to provoke him, rubbing salt on Mark’s raw wound.

Mark pulls his arm back, ready to launch the ball in Donghyuck’s direction. Donghyuck braces himself, his own palms lighting up.

But the ball flies past his head, smashing with a loud crack as it collides with the tree trunk behind him. He’s about to make a snide comment about Mark’s poor aim when Mark barks at him, “If you want to fight it out, let’s do it properly then. No Yielding.”

Donghyuck launches himself at Mark. He digs one hand into Mark’s shirt, holding him in place as he swings his other fist, punching Mark right in the nose.

Mark reels back, losing his footing. A hand comes up to cover his nose and he groans in pain. When he pulls his hand back, blood trickles out and splatters onto the ground. “Fuck,” he spits, steadying himself.

“That’s enough, stop!” Jeno shrieks, rushing forward to stand in between them.

Mark shoves past Jeno and grabs a fistful of Donghyuck’s shirt.

Donghyuck falls, knee first, as he is hurled to the ground. He winces, the pain in his knee and his knuckle where it had collided with Mark’s face is almost unbearable. Before he can climb back onto his feet, Mark tugs him upwards harshly. He rams a fist against the underside of his jaw, knocking Donghyuck’s head backwards.

Donghyuck cries out loudly and he flops back to the ground helplessly. Mark doesn’t stop.

He curls on the ground with a whimper when Mark kicks him in the stomach. The earth shifts and vibrates beneath his back as heavy footfalls resound in the distance, but he’s too disoriented to determine which direction it’s coming from. His body is aching everywhere.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Donghyuck hears Yukhei yell.

Blinking the spots out of his eyes, he turns his head to the side and catches a glimpse of Mark flailing in Jeno’s arms. Jeno has an arm looped around Mark’s neck, another securely around his waist. From behind them, Yukhei bounds past the trees.

Yukhei pulls to a stop, eyebrows furrowing as he surveys the situation. His face contorts, a pained look at first when he catches Donghyuck lying pathetically on the forest floor, then confusion for a brief moment, and finally, pure rage.

“What’s wrong with you?” Yukhei stalks up to Mark, easily towering over him.

Mark elbows Jeno in the stomach and Jeno releases his hold on him with a pained yelp. He hisses, shoving at Yukhei’s chest, “Stay out of this. This is none of your business!”

Yukhei doesn’t budge but fear flashes through Donghyuck. Mark’s right—this is none of Yukhei’s business. He shouldn’t drag Yukhei into this.

“Yukhei,” Donghyuck calls feebly, climbing to his feet. They turn to look at him as he limps towards them.

Yukhei shifts, tucking Donghyuck behind him.

“You’re right. The fight between you two was none of my business,” Yukhei says, turning to glare down at Mark, his right palm lighting up in flames. Donghyuck fists weakly at his shirt, but Yukhei doesn’t stand down. “But now that you’ve hurt Donghyuck again, it is very much my business.”

“Fuck, I’m sick of this,” Mark spits. He opens a Shadow Portal behind him. “I guess nosy people stick with nosy people.”

Without another word, he tugs Jeno into the Portal and disappears. They stand there in silence, staring at the spot where Mark was standing just moments earlier.

Yukhei extinguishes his palm and turns to look down at him. He thumbs gently at Donghyuck’s cheek, his eyes searching Donghyuck’s face. Donghyuck expects him to say something along the lines of “Are you okay?” but Yukhei seems to know that Donghyuck is not feeling okay. Instead, he asks quietly, “Where are you hurting?”

Donghyuck doesn’t reply. He stares at Yukhei’s neck, averting his gaze.

Yukhei leans in to look at Donghyuck in the eye. Then, he pulls away to touch his chin lightly, tilting Donghyuck’s head slightly to get a better look. Donghyuck winces, pulling away. His jaw is pulsing. He doesn’t remember his face hurting this badly when Mark had last punched him.

“It’s bruising pretty badly,” Yukhei comments. He wraps a hand around Donghyuck’s wrist and tugs gently. “Let’s go see a Healer.”

“No,” Donghyuck tugs back. “I don’t want to.” The last thing he needs right before the upcoming exam is another round of detention. The pent up anger from earlier deflates within him and he suddenly feels extremely exhausted.

He leans forward to rest his forehead against Yukhei’s chest. Instinctively, Yukhei’s hand rises to pet the back of his head and Donghyuck exhales shakily as Yukhei embraces him tightly.

Yerim’s door is propped open with a small plastic bin when Donghyuck stops by her dorm after dinner, so he invites himself in. The Healers and students training to be Healers reside in a different dormitory, closer to the infirmary. She’s seated at her desk by the window with her back to him. He creeps up on her, each footstep slow and careful. Halfway across the room, he notices that Yerim is immersed in a book. The pages are filled with intricate coloured drawings of some part of the human body.

When he’s close enough, he scans the book and spots the title along the top of the page: ‘A Healer’s Interpretation: Anatomy of the Head and Neck’. Donghyuck wrinkles his nose at this. He has never really been a book person. It’s not that he hasn’t tried; it’s more the fact that his mind whirs too quickly, skipping from thought to thought and it’s challenging to force himself to sit down and process the words that are swimming around on the page.

His hands hover over her shoulders for a moment before he changes his mind. He makes a sharp tug at a lock of her hair instead.

“Nice try,” Yerim comments, unfazed. He sputters, drawing his hand back. She doesn’t even turn around. Fingering the page of her book, she continues, “You’re not exactly subtle.”

“You’re no fun at all!” Donghyuck grumbles. He drapes himself dramatically over her back and exclaims, “I’m bored to death!”

She slips a bookmark in between the pages of her book, turning to face him properly. She reaches up and pinches his cheek affectionately. “When are you not bored? You’re going to wreck havoc once you leave school.”

“Who said I’m leaving?” He grins down at her, mirroring her action and pinches her cheek.

Over the last decade, more students have decided to stay back at the Institution after finishing Advanced Yielding to do further study or training to become a Fieldwork agent. Some even take up research, like Taeyong and Doyoung.

Yerim raises an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? And what are you going to do, Healing?”

“Don’t know,” Donghyuck shrugs, “Will cross that bridge when I get there. I still have over half a year of Advanced Yielding left to survive.”

He roughly knows that he wants to do something practical, something active, but he hasn’t put too much thought into it. He wants to leave his future open and flexible to unexpected opportunities.

His older sister had finished Advanced Yielding last year and is now studying to be a Healer. Earth Yielders are gifted with the ability to Heal, their natural talent stemming from their connection to nature and the living. So naturally, becoming a Healer is a common career path for Earth Yielders.

“What happened here?” she frowns, tilting his chin upwards. Her fingers graze over the ugly bruise that has bloomed along the underside of his mandible after his skirmish with Mark by the lake.

Then, without warning, she presses a finger against the bruise. He hisses, batting her hand away.

“Nothing much, just an accident,” he replies nonchalantly.

She flashes him a skeptical look and demands, “Why didn’t you go see a Healer?”

“Didn’t want to,” he mumbles.

“Go sit over there,” Yerim commands, gesturing at her bed.

He’s about to point out that the bruise will heal itself over time but pauses to remain silent at the sight of the stern look on her face. She’ll probably nag him for days so Donghyuck obeys, settling on her bed quietly.

He watches curiously as Yerim twists her hair up into a neat bun. She appears significantly more mature with her vibrant red hair tied up. The last time they caught up over lunch, she’d mentioned that one of her seniors from Healing class had helped her dye it red. Earlier in the year, both of them had been surprised when their parents had finally agreed to let Yerim bleach her hair. When she returned from the hairdresser’s, Donghyuck almost didn’t recognise her. It had taken him a whole week to get used her blonde hair.

“Did you always want to be a Healer?” Donghyuck fiddles with the edge of Yerim’s blanket.

“I guess you could say that,” she hums. “Chin up.” She studies the bruise carefully, her lips pursed in concentration.

“Hang on,” Donghyuck stops her when she reaches out a glowing palm. He pats her hair gently, then he waves a careful hand over her head. Small white and lilac flowers bloom around her bun beneath his palms. “There we go,” he pulls away, pleased with his work.

She shifts away to study her hair in the mirror.

“Oh Hyuckie,” Yerim says gleefully when she returns to his side, beaming down at him, “Thank you, I love it!”

The green glow of her palm reflects off her eyes as she cups Donghyuck’s chin carefully. A pleasant, warm sensation tickles Donghyuck’s chin as she begins to Heal, channelling energy through her palms.

“Is it because of Mum and Dad?” Donghyuck asks. There’s a look of confusion on Yerim’s face, so he adds. “I meant wanting to be a Healer.”

She thinks for a moment. “No,” she replies decidedly. “They provided me with a loving environment that fostered my interest in Healing but I’ve always wanted to be a Healer. Not just for the people I will be able to help but also for myself. Every time I help someone who is in a vulnerable place, it just—it feels right. The warmth in my chest when I see them recover… it’s rewarding. It’s a feeling I just can’t put into words.”

Donghyuck frowns at the ceiling of Yerim’s lower bunk. His parents are loving and have always reminded him that he can pursue whichever career path that interests him, as long as he loves what he is doing. But there are unspoken expectations of being a Healer, with both his parents—and now, Yerim—immersed in this field. He wants to do something more than just sitting in a room looking at wounds. At times, he catches himself wondering if he would make a talented Healer if he was more interested in books.

When Yerim’s done healing his chin, she shifts to heal a small cut on his cheek. It’s barely visible but she insists on healing it anyway. Yerim brings up his upcoming Fieldwork exam and they openly discuss his feelings and worries. Yerim has her way with words. She listens intently and offers words of comfort and encouragement. It instantly dispels the building anxiety within him, a heavy weight lifted off his chest.

But then, the last thing he wants to discuss surfaces. She brings up the fight.

“Mark mentioned your fall out with him,” she comments quietly.

He snaps out of his thoughts and jerks his head away from her palm.

“He’s a liar,” Donghyuck snarls. “He lied to me. He lied to all of us—about his family.”

Yerim attempts to press her palm against his face again. An exasperated sigh escapes her lips when it becomes clear that Donghyuck will no longer cooperate with her.

The words claw up his chest, slipping out of his mouth easily. “His father is the Water Clan leader!” he confides, “I don’t understand why someone I called my best friend would omit such an important piece of information.” Taeyong’s warning flashes in his mind but he figures Yerim is family. She won’t divulge anything they discuss in private.

Yerim blinks, face impassive. Donghyuck can almost see the cogs turning in her head as she turns over this new piece of information. Yerim is incredibly intelligent. No doubt, she has figured out that Mark is Lee Minhyung. If she’s surprised at this revelation, she doesn’t show it. But she’s always been good at concealing her true feelings and preventing it from displaying openly ever since they were young.

“I understand why you’re angry,” Yerim begins carefully, “It’s humiliating to admit that there are things, important things, that you do not know about a person who you think you’re close to and know everything about.” She gauges his expressions before continuing, “But Mark is not an unreasonable person. The circumstances may be more complicated than you think.”

He lurches from the bed abruptly, towering over her. “What’s so complicated? He’s a liar and that’s that!”

“Have you considered why he lied though? I’m sure he has his reasons—”

“Why are you defending him?” Donghyuck accuses. His voice echoes in the room, louder than he intends it to be. She flinches and the guilt instantly seeps into him. He hates raising his voice at his sister but he really can’t help it. The burning anger is clawing at his chest, desperate to escape. The bruise may be gone now but his jaw continues to ache.

“I’m not defending him,” Yerim says firmly, “I’m just saying, don’t let this one event cloud your judgement of the Mark you know.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know who Mark is anymore! I don’t know what’s the truth and how many other lies he’s been feeding us all.”

“You’re refusing to see things from his perspective,” Yerim states bluntly. “Donghyuck, you’re blinded by anger right now. Both you and I know how stubborn you can be, but you need to stop for a moment. Let your anger fizzle away so you can be mature about this for a second.”

Sick of this conversation, he pushes past her and strides towards the door, yanking it open.

He’s halfway down the hallway when Yerim calls out behind him, “Think things through from a different perspective. Come back and talk to me when your head is clear.”

The night before the Fieldwork exam, Donghyuck struggles to sleep. Unlike Yukhei, who knocked out the moment his head hit his pillow, Donghyuck spends a good few hours tossing and turning in his bed. He’s tired to the bone but his mind is restless, continuously retrieving all sorts of memories and thoughts. No matter what he thinks about, he catches himself circling back to mull over Yerim’s words. Sighing dejectedly, he rolls over to press his face into his pillow, pleading his mind to quieten down. But it’s useless; his thoughts are louder than Yukhei’s snores.

At some point in the middle of the night, he gives up and crawls out of bed. He stands by the window for a while, basking under the moonlight. The moon is full tonight and Donghyuck gazes forlornly into its grey face, praying for the uneasiness in his chest to settle.

He retrieves a pillow and lays it on the ground beside the window. Curling up against the wall, a blanket draped over his shoulders, he gazes at the neat row of pots on the window sill. Even his plants are asleep.

The events of the past month have sent everything spiralling out of control and he wonders when his world will fall back in place. There’s an unexplainable sense of loneliness that has settled deep within him over the past few weeks and he wonders when it will cease sinking its claws into him. Under the moonlight, he wonders, wonders, and wonders.

Sensing his presence, his little sunflower rouses from deep sleep. It murmurs sleepily at Donghyuck, drawing him out of the black hole of thoughts.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “Did I wake you?” He hovers a pulsing palm over its brilliant yellow flower, urging it to sleep again.

Rather than helping it fall back to sleep, the energy does the exact opposite and his little sunflower perks up. It wiggles its leaves, asking where the sun had gone, sounding slightly distressed.

He strokes one of its leaves. “Don’t you worry, little one. The sun will be back soon.” His eyes flicker to the moon again. “For now, sleep.”

But his little sunflower doesn’t listen. It continues to chatter anxiously, asking more and more questions. Donghyuck sighs, caving in. “You’re feeling restless too, huh?” He plucks the small pot off the window sill and tucks it in the crook of his arm, cradling it to his chest.

He hums softly, a lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was young. His little sunflower quietens down, swaying ever so slightly to his voice. His eyes flutter to a close, his eyelids beginning to feel heavy, but he continues to hum.

When he opens his eyes again, it’s to a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Donghyuck,” Yukhei calls, his voice slightly rough from sleep. “We have to go soon.”

Donghyuck yawns, the tears in his eyes making his vision hazy. “What time is it?” he asks, shifting his hands to rub at his eyes. He pauses, realising the pot is still tucked against him. He tickles its yellow petals and his little sunflower chirps happily back at him.

“An hour and a half after dawn. If we hurry, we’ll still have time to eat breakfast before we head off for our exam.”

With a great amount of care, Donghyuck lays the pot back on the window sill. He scrambles to his feet, groaning loudly when several parts of his body crack loudly. His back is going to ache for the rest of the day but at least he managed to catch some sleep.

After breakfast, they report to the main Hangar, situated in a spacious clearing behind the laboratory. He separates from Yukhei to line up in their respective Clans. Everyone’s chattering anxiously around him and even Renjun, who is lined up in front of him, begins to fidget.

Professor Cha debriefs them, reviewing the details of the exam that Professor Kim had already told the Earth Yielders. “As you have already been informed, your teamwork will be assessed in this exam. You must work collaboratively in teams of three to complete your assigned tasks.”

Donghyuck listens carefully, tucking his hands behind his back. He’s not overly concerned about the teamwork part. He’s rather friendly with his peers from the Earth Clan, so working in a team with them shouldn’t be a problem.

“There has been a minor change to the team allocations. Each member of your team will now be from a different Clan,” Professor Cha announces. “We believe that this will provide a more realistic learning experience to what you will find once you complete your training and enter the workforce.”

Renjun stops fidgeting and turns to flash a look of horror at him. Donghyuck shuffles closer to slip a hand into Renjun’s, giving his friend a reassuring squeeze, his own heart moments away from bursting out of his chest.

All of his peers remain still, listening intently as Professor Cha continues. “The Hovercrafts will transport you to your respective Ports, where you will be provided with packs. These packs will include food and water. The mission scrolls will indicate your allocated Reporting Station. The final step of your exam is to report to the appropriate Station.

“To reiterate a few important rules. The examination will last 48-hours but the Reporting Stations will only be opened following the first 24-hours. You may use Yielding to your heart’s content, as a means to defend yourself or to complete your assigned tasks.”

Then, Professor Cha raises his stern voice, “However, you must not harm your team members or fellow peers. Any deliberate behaviours that place yourself or others at risk of life-threatening danger will result in disqualification from completing the exam.”

A small group of people file into the room from the side entrance of the Hangar. Held securely in each of their arms is a small box of gadgets. Among them, Donghyuck spots Doyoung. He loses sight of Doyoung as the group rounds the corner and disappear behind a Hovercraft.

Donghyuck diverts his attention back to Professor Cha, who has begun to announce the teams. He listens intently, his hand still entangled with Renjun’s. His palms are clammy but Renjun’s touch is comforting. Not long after, he hears his name.

“Team five—Mark, Jaemin, Donghyuck.”

Renjun turns around again, gaping this time. “Oh no, Hyuckie…” Renjun mumbles, squeezing Donghyuck’s hand tightly.

Donghyuck exhales noisily, gnashing his teeth. He squeezes Renjun’s hand once more, then slips it out of his grip. Suppressing the wild mess of feelings churning inside of him—shock, anger, and confusion, all topped off with a splash of fear—he pushes past Renjun and strides to the front. He joins Mark and Jaemin, where they’re instructed to line up behind the other teams by the first Hovercraft’s entrance. There are three Hovercrafts and each will be transporting five teams.

One look at Mark’s face, Donghyuck notices the suspiciously calm look the older boy has, even after the news of their team allocation. Donghyuck bunches his hand into fists and hisses quietly in Mark’s direction, “You knew, didn’t you.”

Mark ignores him, his eyes trained on the Hovercraft and Donghyuck seethes. Mark definitely knew about this arrangement.

Jaemin, sandwiched between Mark and Donghyuck, frowns deeply. “Donghyuck, please, don’t start a fight… Not now. Definitely not during this exam, please.”

The line begins to shift and they shuffle forward. Standing by the entrance of the second Hovercraft, Donghyuck catches sight of Doyoung again. His older friend doesn’t notice him though, busy distributing metal wristbands to the students lined up before him.

“Please hold out your left wrist,” one of Doyoung’s colleagues standing by the Hovercraft entrance instructs.

She snaps on a metal wristband and it beeps as it locks securely around Donghyuck’s wrist. He winces at the sensation. It digs sharply into his skin, uncomfortably cool.

“This is waterproof and can withstand small amounts of Yielding energy if it is directed straight to the band, but please prevent from damaging it,” she informs.

“What’s it for?” Donghyuck questions.

“It’s a tracking band. It will inform us of your Yielding energy levels, heart rate, and location at any point in time throughout the exam. It will also be the only way for us to find you to retrieve you out of the arena if anything happens.”

Donghyuck’s stomach lurches. He hopes that he will leave the arena without any severe injuries. The wristband still feels cool against his skin. He examines it closely. It’s yellow in colour and has a small screen on it, like a watch face. Displayed on the screen is his team number, alongside the time, his heart rate, and energy levels.

Jaemin and Mark are back by his side, sporting identical wristbands, as they board the Hovercraft. The moment they’re out of sight, Donghyuck dives past Jaemin and shoves Mark harshly against the wall of the Hovercraft.

“Did you ask to be put in a team with me? Is this some kind of sick revenge to make me fail this exam?” he accuses, tugging harshly on Mark’s shirt.

Mark attempts to dislodge him. “Why would I do something so foolish like that? That would be setting myself up for failure,” he snaps back. “I asked to be changed with Jeno and they rejected my request.”

Donghyuck mulls over this piece of information. This must have been what he had overheard by the lake.

Jaemin pries his hands off Mark. “Stop, I’ve had enough!” Jaemin snarls. “I’m sick of this! Can you two just cooperate and not dive at each other’s throats for 48-hours? You’re not the only ones who needs to pass this exam.”

Donghyuck’s ears burn, shame sinking in deep. Jaemin’s right, this is none of his business and they shouldn’t involve him in this. He pushes past them to find a seat, remaining silent for the whole flight.

The examination supervisor who travels with them on the Hovercraft to the arena is Professor Oh. Among the twelve other students who had travelled with Donghyuck’s team, five of them are Yukhei’s friends.

They stand in an arc around Professor Oh after they arrive at the Port. He waves a hand and his assistants rush forward to hand out small black packs. As Professor Cha had promised, Donghyuck finds a water bottle and food. He riffles through the contents, spotting several sandwiches, bread rolls, dried fruit, and a few other food items he’s unable to recognise from where they’re tucked at the bottom of his pack. He slings the straps of the pack over his shoulders as Professor Oh begins to hand out the mission scrolls.

“We are now at Port number one. Keep in mind that the starting Port is different from the final Reporting Station your team has to be at to successfully complete your exam. Take extra care and check your scrolls to ensure you do not arrive at the incorrect Reporting Station.

“Now, you will find that any student with the same coloured tracking band as yourself will have been assigned to a different mission. Some students in the other two groups may have the same mission as you. Should you cross paths, I expect you all to treat each other with respect.” Professor Oh scans them all with a serious look, ensuring that they’re all listening.

The mission scrolls feel heavy in Donghyuck’s hands and he fidgets, itching to open them.

“The exam will begin in half an hour. I suggest you use this time wisely to read the mission instructions carefully and plan with your group.”

The teams around Donghyuck’s break into loud chattering. Jaemin and Mark shift closer to him to huddle around the scrolls. On the first scroll, the examination rules that had been re-explained to them are written out in clear dot points. Beneath a detailed map, their mission is clearly outlined on the second scroll.

Donghyuck skims through the contents quickly. Once Jaemin and Mark finish reading, he clarifies, “So we’re meant to find some sort of black box?” His team members nod back at him and he wrinkles his nose, “What kind of mission is that?”

“You never know,” Jaemin says thoughtfully, “Might be top secret information inside that box. Or maybe precious jewels? An expensive prototype?”

They fall silent again as they pore over the map, studying it extensively.

“Alright,” Mark announces, tracing his index finger around on the map. “We’re here right now, at the Port. We’re going to have to head north and climb up the mountain.” He marks an ‘X’ on the map with his finger. “Near the top of the mountain, we should find a tree marked with the Institution’s emblem and in that area, we will find the box.”

“I hope the mountain isn’t too high. It’s going to take ages to find that box,” Jaemin sighs. He’s about to make another comment when Professor Oh cuts him off.

“Do not rely on other teams to complete your mission. You may only rely on your team members,” Professor Oh scolds the two teams beside Donghyuck’s. Guilty looks on their face, the two teams break apart immediately. They had been openly discussing their missions.

Then, Professor Oh saunters up to Donghyuck’s team, scanning their faces carefully.

“Mr Lee,” Professor Oh greets, turning to face Mark, “I was notified that you have already been informed, but I would like to remind you that Shadow Yielding is prohibited for this exam. Shadow Portal Detectors have been installed around this arena and if you trigger them, you will instantly fail this exam. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” Mark replies steadily. His hands, tucked behind his back, balls into fists.

When Professor Oh is out of earshot, both Jaemin and Donghyuck whip around to stare at Mark with wide eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jaemin hisses.

Mark shrugs, “Didn’t think it was important. It doesn’t really affect much anyway. I’m not familiar with this arena, so it’s not like we can go anywhere.”

Donghyuck gnashes his teeth together at his nonchalance. As much as he hates travelling through Shadow Portals, the advantage of flitting from one side of the arena to the other within second could have made a huge difference to their team’s performance.

A loud blip from the digital clock counting down on the wall draws everyone’s attention from their discussions. One minute till noon. Beside him, Jaemin is taking in deep breaths with his eyes closed, readying his mind for the exam. Donghyuck copies him, inhaling deeply as he pushes their earlier conversation to the back of his mind.

The clock rings loudly when the countdown is up. The exit to the Port opens and the teams scamper out of the Port, rushing into the clearing. Jaemin immediately spots the mountain in the distance and they break off in a small run towards it. Behind them, the other teams rush off in different directions.

Not even five minutes later, Donghyuck’s team finds themselves alone in the area. They stop every now and then to check the map, ensuring that they are headed in the right direction by checking the landmarks printed on the scroll, like the winding river that flows past them near the Port.

Half an hour later, they arrive at the base of the mountain. The pathway up the mountain is clear at first, but as they climb higher and higher, it fades away. Jaemin finds an alternative pathway, one that winds up the side of the mountain. They hum in agreement and begin to scale up the side of the mountain, along the newly discovered but dangerously narrow path, with Jaemin in the lead, Mark in the middle, and Donghyuck at the end.

They’re close to the end of the path, where the ground flattens into a grassy region when it happens. One moment, Donghyuck’s fiddling with the straps of his pack, ambling up the pathway, then the next, Mark is falling before his eyes.

It happens so quickly that Donghyuck barely has time to react as he witnesses it unfolds. Mark steps on a patch of loose earth and it crumbles under his weight, leaving a gaping hole larger than the size of Mark’s foot in the pathway between Jaemin and Donghyuck. Mark draws his foot back up in shock, losing his balance. His body weight tips the wrong way and it sends him off the path.

Jaemin shouts helplessly as Mark falls.

He spirals towards the ground below at a frightening pace. Donghyuck knows that Mark can easily save himself with a Shadow Portal but that idiot! Why isn’t he opening a Portal?

Instinctively, Donghyuck thrusts both hands out, sending a large burst of energy into the earth below. The ground below Mark rumbles and a large body of dirt shifts, forming a small catchment. With a dull thump, Mark lands, his body colliding with the dirt catchment.

With another burst of energy, Donghyuck shifts the dirt catchment higher, until it reaches the flat ground right above the narrow path.

Jaemin cries out in fright as Donghyuck steps off the side of the narrow path. He’s about to call out something when he pauses, realising that stone steps are forming beneath Donghyuck’s feet. Donghyuck ascends, towards the dirt catchment, where Mark lays, groaning in pain from the impact of his fall.

“Jaemin, come,” Donghyuck calls, beckoning at his frightened friend, “This is safer than the path.”

Hesitantly, Jaemin lays a foot onto the hovering stone step, placing weight on it experimentally. Deeming it safe and secure, his other foot leaves the narrow path, though his body remains tensed up as he ascends the steps behind Donghyuck.

“You still with us?” Jaemin asks, hovering over Mark. Relieved that Mark is alive, albeit a little shaken up, he lets out a long sigh. “That was quick thinking, Hyuckie.”

“Oh god,” Mark rasps, chest still heaving. “I nearly died.”

Jaemin scoops Mark out of the catchment and helps him to lay on the ground. Donghyuck releases his hold on the catchment and it crumbles, falling into a heap of loose dirt in the middle of the field.

The adrenaline subsides and Donghyuck collapses in a heap beside Mark on the ground.

“I need some rest before we continue,” he says feebly, watching as a squirrel scuttles past him. The grass looks extremely comfortable and Donghyuck just wants to lay his head down on the ground. His tracking band blips loudly.

Jaemin shuffles over, squatting beside Donghyuck. He grabs Donghyuck’s wrist and squints at his tracking band. “What was your starting Yielding energy level?”

Donghyuck wracks his brain. “Eighty percent? Ninety percent? I don’t know. It wasn’t at a hundred because I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“No wonder you’re knocked out,” Jaemin frowns, “You’ve only got thirty-five percent left.”

“I’m not going to make it!” Donghyuck wails dramatically, flopping back onto the grass. The contents in his pack digging painfully into his back. Realising his sandwiches may be squashed under his weight, he rolls onto his side.

He wonders how long it will take for his energy levels to replenish. He has utilised devices like this in class before, ones that accurately measure his energy levels, but he has never paid much attention to the rate at which his body recovers. All he knows is that he has poor stamina when it comes to Yielding.

Jaemin pinches his ear teasingly. “Don’t be silly. We’ll rest for another fifteen minutes then we’ll have to set off again.” He moves to check Mark’s tracking band, “You too Mark. Rest for a bit.”

When Donghyuck’s heart finally returns to a normal rate, his stomach begins to growl in protest. The exam began at noon and they didn’t have time to eat their lunch before then. At Donghyuck’s suggestion, they have a food and water break. He watches his team members carefully as they eat their rations. Jaemin has recovered well from the shock that he experienced earlier but Mark still looks awfully pale. He appears deep in thought, picking mindlessly at the crust of his sandwich.

The sight of Mark’s state settles oddly in Donghyuck’s stomach. He brushes it out of his mind and devours the rest of his sandwich.

With their stomachs filled with food and their thirst quenched, Donghyuck’s team sets off. They search aimlessly around the forest, weaving from tree to tree. A brief argument between Donghyuck and Mark arises in the late afternoon over the interpretation of the mission instructions, but Jaemin settles it quickly.

Donghyuck’s steps falter as they scale a steep path. Immediately, his hand flings out to support him. He grasps a low tree branch, panting hard. Jaemin and Mark continue on, unaware that Donghyuck has lagged behind.

He slides to the ground feebly, pressing his hands into the dirt for comfort. Donghyuck gasps for air, wondering why he’s feeling light-headed all of a sudden.

“Donghyuck?” Jaemin’s concerned voice resounds. The ground vibrates beneath his palms as Jaemin rushes down the path and back to his side. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

Mark hovers in the distance, watching with a perturbed look. Donghyuck’s tracking band blips, twice, answering Jaemin’s questions for him. They both flicker their eyes towards the small screen.

Jaemin inhales sharply. Donghyuck’s energy level has dropped below twenty percent.

“Ugh,” Donghyuck grunts, brushing the dirt off his palms, “No wonder I feel so gross and tired.”

Jaemin worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m on ninety percent, Donghyuck. Let me Transfer some to you,” Jaemin insists.

Donghyuck shakes his head wildly. “No, save your energy.”

“Don’t be stupid, you’ll pass out if your energy drops any further.” Jaemin reaches out and wraps his hand over the inside of Donghyuck’s forearm.

Donghyuck sighs. Jaemin is right. His energy level has dipped into a dangerous zone and he won’t last long if it drops again. So he reciprocates without protest, wrapping his fingers around Jaemin’s wrist.

With a firm grip, Jaemin flips their forearms to one side, so that Donghyuck’s lays above his. Eyes trained on his tracking band, Jaemin begins the Energy Transfer.

The last time they relied on the guidance of a device that allows them to monitor the amount of energy they’re giving or taking was during class, way back in Intermediate Yielding. At this point in their training, they’re both skilled at conducting Energy Transfers. But it’s critical that they both have enough energy to last through the rest of the exam, so it’s best to play it safe.

An Energy Donor from the same Clan is preferred, as it helps a Yielder to replenish their energy store much faster, but anything is better than nothing right now.

Donghyuck monitors his own tracking band as Jaemin’s Yielding Energy flows out of his palm. A thread of energy winds its way around their linked forearms, starting from where Jaemin’s palm rests just below Donghyuck’s elbow and flowing towards Donghyuck’s hand. It emits a brilliant red glow as the energy streamlines, weaving between Donghyuck’s fingers and turning green as his palm absorbs it.

He sighs in relief, instantly feeling less light-headed. As Donghyuck’s energy levels reach fifty percent, Jaemin halts the Transfer.

“Better?” Jaemin smiles, releasing his hold. Donghyuck nods and Jaemin helps him to his feet.

Nightfall approaches faster than they anticipate. Before they know it, the sun is dipping below the horizon and they remain unsuccessful at finding the box to complete their mission. Jaemin voices his concerns about navigating through the dark forest, an unfamiliar place, and they unanimously agree to settle for the night.

Jaemin’s riffling through his pack for his ration of food when he voices another concern.

“Where are we going to sleep tonight?” He pokes at the pile of sizeable sticks they had gathered for the campfire restlessly.

Thinking back to the conversation he had with Renjun about treehouses when the Fieldwork exam had been announced, an idea surfaces in Donghyuck’s mind.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” he reassures Jaemin, clambering to his feet.

Jaemin frowns but leaves Donghyuck to his devices. As he sets to work on the campfire, Donghyuck sees small flames lick at Jaemin’s fingers from the corner of his eyes. Donghyuck turns away to survey their surroundings, searching for the tallest tree.

He wanders a few metres away from Jaemin’s campfire and finds the tree he wants. He presses a hand against the trunk of the tall tree, revelling in the way it hums gently at his touch. Although night has fallen and darkness surrounds them, Donghyuck is not afraid. The forest, the nature, calls out to him. He prides himself in his strong connection with plants, a rare gift among Earth Yielders that he had inherited from his mother.

A giant stalk bursts from deep within the earth and grows rapidly, spiralling upwards and winding around the trunk. Small steps carve itself into the stalk as Donghyuck places one foot onto the stalk’s base. He scales the stairs, stopping before he reaches the top. Where the stalk had ceased growing, metres below the top of the tree, Donghyuck weaves vines into three individual hammocks.

“Aw, sweet!” Jaemin exclaims, his face splitting into a wide grin as he appears at the bottom of the tree. Donghyuck can almost see Jaemin’s teeth glint under the moonlight.

His tracking band blips once but he ignores it.

They eat their rations with minimal chattering and after agreeing to wake at dawn, Jaemin climbs to his feet. He yawns loudly, raising his arms to stretch his body. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m heading right to bed.”

They exchange quiet words of ‘good night’ and Jaemin scrambles up the staircase.

Donghyuck too, shuffles eagerly towards the staircase. He’s absolutely exhausted from not sleeping much the night before and he cannot wait to lay in his hammock. Fortunately, creating the stalk staircase and the hammocks didn’t drain all of his energy. He glances at his tracking band, silently hoping that a good night’s sleep will replenish his Yielding energy.

Mark, who had been awfully quiet throughout the whole afternoon and evening after the near-death incident, calls out softly. “Hey, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck pauses, but he doesn’t reply or turn his head. In the distance, an owl hoots noisily.

“I just wanted to say thank you… For saving my life,” Mark continues sincerely.

“Don’t worry about it,” Donghyuck replies briskly.

Exhaustion is sinking into his bones and his eyelids begin to feel heavy. Donghyuck’s surprised that he lasted till the end of the day, considering how eventful it was and how little sleep he had the night before. He waves, vaguely in Mark’s direction and starts up the staircase. He’s definitely ready to lay his body down on his temporary bed of woven vines, can almost feel the thin leafy flap-like doors of his hammock.

Mark rushes forward, stopping him with a hand around his wrist. “Can we talk?”

Donghyuck’s eyes flit down to Mark’s hand and sighs loudly, “I’m really tired right now.” After a few deep breaths, he finally finds the courage to turn and look at Mark in the eyes.

“Please, just… I’ll keep it short. I need to get this off my chest,” Mark begs pitifully.

The moon shines brightly above their heads, illuminating Mark’s face, highlighting the curve of his nose and lips and the serious expression on his face. The urge to trace Mark’s features with his fingers overwhelms him. Then, he remembers. He draws his hand out of Mark’s grasp abruptly. He’s supposed to be angry at him.

“Alright, what is it?” he asks tersely.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Mark says sincerely, “You were right… it was wrong of me to keep my identity from you.”

Donghyuck thinks of Doyoung’s words, then Yerim’s. “It’s not solely your fault,” he replies steadily, surprising himself. “I overreacted and said some hurtful things so I am at fault too.”

He clamps his mouth shut after the last syllable slips out, suppressing the disbelief rising in his chest. What’s wrong with him? His adverse reaction to Mark’s identity has been something that he had stubbornly refused to admit to himself over the past month. Donghyuck almost shakes his head at the thought of how easily these words had just fallen out of his mouth.

Mark inhales deeply, as if he is mentally preparing himself for what he wants to say next.

“Donghyuck you’re very important to me, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I hate that it took me so long to realise this… But when I saw you watching me as I was spiralling off the edge of that cliff, I was so scared, you know? That I’d just die like that, without fixing things with you.”

Donghyuck’s breath catches in his throat. It’s strange to think that Mark had arrived at this realisation on the brink of death. But he is no different to Mark. The way he had watched Mark nearly fall to his death earlier stirred something within him. Donghyuck doesn’t know what, but perhaps it awakened a sliver of rationality. Humans are strange, Donghyuck muses. He shakes his head as he ponders over the way this situation has unfolded.

Mark’s voice wavers as continues to talk.

“The reason behind all this… It’s so complicated I don’t even know where to begin, but I hope that you will give me a chance—maybe after tomorrow—and allow me to explain myself. I guess a good starting point would be to admit that I am not on the best terms with my father. He doesn’t understand or respect my thoughts and every time we interact, I just wish—” Mark ruffles his hair and sighs. “I just wish he would stop to listen to me, you know? Like really listen to what I want to say to him.”

Donghyuck wracks his brain for the right words to say. He truly cannot relate to Mark’s experiences from the way his father treats him, as his parents have been extremely loving and supportive throughout his whole life, always respecting his desires and decisions. But he desperately wishes he could offer words of comfort.

“Thank you,” he replies carefully after a long pause. “Thank you for opening up and… for initiating this conversation.” He doesn’t say it aloud but Mark knows him well, almost too well. Donghyuck is someone who holds grudges and will never be the first to apologise.

For a brief moment, they revel in the silence, soaking in each other’s presence. Their eyes meet and the urge to touch Mark’s face returns. These thoughts are put to a halt when Mark raises a hesitant hand. He brushes his thumb against Donghyuck’s cheek, where it had been bruised after their fight.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Donghyuck. Every time I saw your face after our fight, all the anger just dissipated and the guilt that filled me—I can’t even begin to describe it.”

“Then why did you hit me the second time?” Donghyuck asks, genuinely curious. If Mark felt guilty at the sight of Donghyuck’s injuries, why did he react so violently every time they ran into each other over the past month?

“I want to say that I wasn’t in the right mindset but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t treat my friends like this…” He trails off, lost in thought. Then, he drops his hand from Donghyuck’s face and dips into his pocket. Donghyuck watches curiously as he rummages for a second. “Here,” he pushes something into Donghyuck’s hand. “I thought I should give this back to you.”

Donghyuck’s eyes finally flicker away from Mark’s face. Sitting on his palm is the broken bracelet he had gifted Mark for his birthday. He had sliced through the ‘M’ in Mark’s name when he had cut it off during their fight.

“It’s yours,” Donghyuck blinks at Mark, then at the vine bracelet.

The only other bracelet he has ever made and gifted was to Yerim. Mark’s bracelet had taken him hours to get it right. It was difficult weaving the thin threads of vines into his name; it requires fine control of his Yielding energy. But the sense of accomplishment he felt when he finally finished and the look on Mark’s face when he had presented it to him made it all worth it.

Mark shakes his head and murmurs sadly, “I don’t really deserve it, do I?”

Donghyuck leans forward to reach for Mark’s left wrist, almost forgetting that it is already occupied. The screen of the tracking band glistens under the moonlight. So instead, he reaches for Mark’s right hand. Gently, he lays the bracelet on Mark’s wrist.

He wraps a hand around Mark’s wrist, the bracelet pressed under his palm and fingers. He closes his eyes and concentrates, drawing the last of his Yielding energy. Beneath his pulsing palm, the vine bundle squirms as it grows. The two ends of the bracelet rejoin, each fibre intertwining.

Mark’s staring at his face with an odd expression when Donghyuck opens his eyes again.
Donghyuck blushes, averting his gaze, “There, all fixed.” He tucks his left hand behind his back quickly at the sound of his tracking band blipping at him loudly. “Go get some rest,” he mutters, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He pushes past Mark hurriedly. Mark trails after him and they scale up the stairs in silence.

“Taeyong—” Mark begins hesitantly as they reach the landing at the top of the stairs. He’s twiddling his thumb when Donghyuck turns to look at him. “Taeyong was the one who told me about the allocations. I hope you understand that I tried to swap with Jeno because I didn’t want our dispute to hinder our performance during this exam whilst we’re not on good terms.”

Donghyuck frowns, “That’s not particularly fair to the rest of us. Being able to choose who you’re in a team with.”

“I know it’s not fair. That’s why I asked Jeno to stay quiet about it. It slipped out of Taeyong’s mouth when he was urging me to… talk to you, to repair our friendship. But my father was not happy when he heard that the Board had decided to change the allocations from teams of members within Clan to mixed.” He sighs loudly, “I didn’t know this till Saturday morning, but he came by the Institution briefly on Friday afternoon to personally overlook my team allocations.”

Donghyuck ponders over this. He wonders why Mark’s father would be unhappy about the allocations and why he would pick him and Jaemin specifically, when he had forty-two other talented Yielders to select from.

Then, as if he had read Donghyuck’s mind, Mark responds.

“He didn’t pick you or Jaemin because we’re friends. He couldn’t care less, whether or not you guys were my friends.” Mark runs a hand through his hair again. “He picked you two because you’re the top students in this cohort.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Donghyuck scoffs, “Me? A top student? I know I’m good at Yielding but I’m not that good. If anything he should’ve picked—”

“You’ve missed the point Donghyuck!” Mark cuts him off. He chokes up as he continues, “My father doesn’t trust me, h-he thinks that I’m so incompetent that he has to help me cheat to pass this exam.”

Donghyuck clenches his fists. It’s confusing, having two contrasting emotions churning within him simultaneously. He’s angered by the way Mark’s father acts and treats Mark, yet at the same time, he's equally saddened by the fact that Mark feels this way about himself. That he has to watch helplessly as the brightest light within Mark gets snuffed out, as his remaining sliver of confidence diminishes before Donghyuck’s eyes.

“You’re a better Yielder than you think,” Donghyuck says softly, “I’ve told you before, remember?”

Mark sniffles but doesn’t reply.

He rests a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “It’s been a long, long day, for both of us.” Then, for the second time that evening, he says to Mark, “Go get some rest.”

They part ways without another word, shuffling towards their respective hammocks.

Right as he is about to slip into his own hammock, Donghyuck adds, “D-Don’t think that I’ve fully forgiven you or anything.”

Long after Mark has crawled into his own hammock, the lie continues to claw at his throat. Donghyuck sighs, rolling to his side, drawing his legs closer to his chest. His tracking band blips again.

The small screen lights up at his touch. Repairing the vine bracelet has drained his energy but Donghyuck can’t help but think that it was worth the energy loss. The numbers ‘25%’ fade away with the dimming screen as he succumbs to exhaustion and falls asleep.

Donghyuck’s in a significantly better condition when he rises the next morning, though his limbs still feel a bit heavy. He glances at his tracking band. Sighing at the sight, he sets his arm back down, running his fingers through the woven vine of his hammock. It confirms his suspicions. His energy levels have not recovered as well as he had anticipated, but sixty percent should be enough to get him through the day.

As he slips out of his hammock and pads down the stairway, he discovers that he is the last to rise. Jaemin and Mark are huddled over a small fire, a few metres away from the tree that they resided in for the night. It’s still a little dark, but the sky is slowly lightening, edging towards the brink of dawn.

Mark nudges a few bread rolls towards him and Donghyuck thanks him quietly. As he shifts to sit down beside Mark, he catches a glimpse of the vine bracelet. It shifts along Mark’s wrist and the events of the previous day, the words they exchanged last night, rushes back to his mind.

He devours his bread roll but as he reaches for a second one, his hand grazes over Mark’s. Donghyuck jolts back, staring hard at the ground. Just yesterday, they were at each other’s throats, simmering in anger. A few seconds later, Mark rushes to his feet, excusing himself to go to the toilet in the bushes.

But overnight, everything has changed.

Jaemin, sensing the change in mood, raises an eyebrow at Mark’s retreating figure, then at Donghyuck.

Donghyuck doesn’t know if Jaemin overheard their conversation from the night before, or if he’s just particularly sensitive and is able to detect the change between Donghyuck and Mark. Regardless, Jaemin doesn’t pry and Donghyuck is grateful. He continues to mull over Mark’s words when they set off at dawn to search for the box. Donghyuck’s not ready to talk to Mark about their fight, their friendship and the ongoing battle of conflicting thoughts about his feelings for him.

Blushing furiously, he pushes past Jaemin and Mark, leading the way towards the winding stone path up the mountain. Together, they set off and begin their second day of aimless wandering and searching.

It’s not even mid-morning when they find it. Donghyuck’s jittery from all the nervous energy building within him. He suppresses another wave of anxious thoughts, about not finding the box, not completing the exam on time, and having to repeat this exam.

Up ahead, Jaemin’s dragging his feet around, scowling hard. “I can’t believe I planned to become a Fieldwork agent after finishing Advanced Yielding,” Jaemin whines, plopping down on a particularly large rock. “My feet hurt from all this walking and I just want to go home!”

“Get up, you big baby,” Donghyuck teases, pinching Jaemin’s cheeks. He makes small baby noises and Jaemin swats his hands away.

Jaemin riffles through his pack and pulls out his bottle. Donghyuck watches as he takes a long drink, then his eyes wander to Mark, who has settled on a smaller rock beside Jaemin. Although he hasn’t been vocal about it, Donghyuck can sense that Mark is feeling just as restless as both Jaemin and himself.

Donghyuck wanders around the area, observing the greenery. He perks up at the sight of a small patch of purple flowers. They squeak happily as he runs his hand through them, showering them with energy. They lead him to a tall tree that hangs over the side of a cliff. As he is about to return to Jaemin and Mark, a familiar marking catches his eye.

Etched on the trunk of the tall tree is the Institution’s emblem. He calls out to his team members frantically and they come rushing towards him. They scour the area and Mark finds the black box pictured on their mission scroll, tucked safely behind the bushes near the purple flowers.

Jaemin cheers loudly, drawing them into a group hug and Donghyuck grins, relief flooding through his system.

For most of the return trip, they descend down the mountain by foot. Now that they didn’t have to search for the box carefully, they move through the trees at a productive pace. Before long, they’re back to the spot where Mark had slipped yesterday. Donghyuck runs his tongue over his teeth, thinking hard, as antsy expressions adorn both Mark and Jaemin’s faces.

“We could abseil down. I can secure vine ropes around the tree trunks over there,” Donghyuck suggests.

After reassuring Jaemin that the vines will be sturdy and thick enough to not be cut by the sharp rock edges, Donghyuck conjures the promised vine ropes. As they abseil down the last of the mountain, they hear a commotion in the distance. The noise dies down by the time they arrive at the base.

“Probably just a dispute between team members,” Mark suggests as Donghyuck detaches the vine ropes. They hum in agreement, brushing it out of their minds.

“Our Reporting Station should be within one kilometre of our starting Port,” Donghyuck notes.

He wraps a loose vine rope around the trunk of a nearby tree to mark the area. Mark raises a questioning eyebrow at this.

“That way we’ll know if walk in circles,” Donghyuck explains.

“Good idea,” Jaemin hums, squinting at the mission scroll. “Alright, let’s search the area. Shouldn’t be too hard to find. We still have two hours before the Reporting Stations open.”

They wander around the area, past the Port they were at the day before. The scorching sun is unforgiving, still rising higher in the sky. Donghyuck squirms uncomfortably in his shirt, soaked in sweat. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and glances at his tracking band. One and a half hours to go.

They stop by the edge of a clearing another half an hour later for a food and water break. After eating his rations, Mark had wandered off, insisting that he desperately needed a toilet break.

A loud rustling noise in the bushes halfway across the clearing spooks Jaemin. He whips his head around, staring at the bushes intently. “Something’s not right,” he murmurs under his breath.

Donghyuck frowns, “It’s probably just the wind or some small animal. The only motion I’m sensing in the ground is probably Mark moving—”

A ball of ice cuts him off. It flies through the bushes, aiming right for Jaemin’s head. With a yelp, both Donghyuck and Jaemin duck out of the way. It smashes into a low branch, which crackles under the force, raining them with splinters.

“What was that?” Mark exclaims, bounding past a bed of ferns from the opposite end of the clearing.

Donghyuck furrows his brows. He calls out, “Wait, that wasn’t you? That ice ball?”

“What iceball?” Mark looks just as confused as Donghyuck feels.

Another iceball flies through the bushes but this time, Jaemin reacts quickly. He sends a fireball, knocking the iceball out of its trajectory with incredible precision. Without hesitation, he sends another few in the general direction of the bushes.

“Who is it? Show yourself, you coward!” Donghyuck bellows at the bushes.

This time, the attackers send fireballs in return. Jaemin fights with them and Donghyuck struggles to keep up with the fight as fireballs fly across the clearing at a frightening rate. Mark rushes to join him and soon, the clearing becomes a blur of ice blue and red.

“Jaemin, be careful!” Donghyuck raises a wall of dirt to defend himself from a stray fireball. “You might start a fire!” He rushes past Jaemin to stamp out a patch of grass that had caught fire. As the dirt wall collapses, he sees a familiar face appear in the bushes. It’s Renjun.

Donghyuck balks as betrayal bleed throughout his body. But Renjun appears just as shocked to see him. In fact, he begins to wave wildly at his side, presumably at his teammates to stop.

“Wait—Jaemin, stop! It’s Renjun—”

He’s knocked backwards, landing on his back painfully as something hard strikes his right thigh with great force. He wheezes, wondering what had struck him. Perhaps it was an iceball—yeah, that sounds about right. Iceballs are hard and build up quite a bit of momentum when hurled.

The pain receptors in his body freeze for a moment, then abruptly, the sensation floods back into him. It halts all the thoughts in his mind and he cries out sharply. Renjun and Mark are shouting around him but Donghyuck cannot decipher their words, no matter how hard he tries to draw his attention away from his thigh. All he can do is writhe helplessly on the ground as the pain consumes him.

Donghyuck cracks an eye open to catch a glimpse at the spot where his thigh is burning painfully. It’s burning—literally. He shouts at the sight of the flames licking at the seams of his pants. Jaemin’s hand appears, shaking uncontrollably, but he doesn’t hesitate to press his palm over the spot where Donghyuck’s pants have caught fire. It effectively extinguishes the small flame. Donghyuck whimpers, thinking about how he was definitely struck by a stray fireball, not an iceball.

Jaemin’s face comes hovering over him. He’s worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Then, Mark’s face comes in view too.

“God, Hyuckie, are you alright?” Mark kneels beside Donghyuck, holding his hand.

There are voices in the distance, arguing loudly, but Donghyuck thinks he’s going to pass out. The intense pain in his thigh is indescribable. Even the pain he experienced from when Mark had punched him paled in comparison to this.

Jaemin removes his hand from Donghyuck’s thigh. Wincing at the sight, he mutters, “That does not look good.” He gently prods at Donghyuck’s seared skin with his index finger.

Donghyuck screams, arching his back, his right thigh spasming violently. “Don’t touch it! Fuck it hurts,” he cries out, tears spilling out of his eyes. Mark squeezes his hand tightly.

With his free hand, Mark forms a slab of ice. “Jaemin, I need something to wrap this around his thigh. It should help relieve the pain.”

There’s rustling as Jaemin unties his jacket from around his waist. Mark hands the ice over and Jaemin wraps it with his jacket, then ties the makeshift ice pack to Donghyuck’s thigh. The initial coolness of the ice pack relieves the pain momentarily.

Donghyuck squeezes his eyes shut, crying silently, his breathing wild and uneven. Gentle fingers stroke his cheeks soothingly, wiping the tears away.

“You’ll be okay Hyuckie, hang in there,” Jaemin’s voice, much calmer now, filters in.

He cracks his eyes open, expecting to see Jaemin’s face hovering over him. But instead, he sees Mark, eyebrows furrowing, hand still lingering around Donghyuck’s cheeks.

“Donghyuck!” Someone calls in the distance.

Donghyuck senses the ground shake beneath him, scurrying footsteps heading right towards him.

He tilts his head in the direction of the footsteps, dislodging Mark’s hand. Renjun and Jeno appear in his visual field, hurrying towards him. A third person lags behind, limping, but he can’t make out their face as his eyes water again. Mark lets go of Donghyuck’s hand and clamber to his feet.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mark snarls, stalks past them and towards the third person. He shoves at them, hard, and they stumble to the ground. “Look what you’ve done!” He shouts accusingly, pointing a finger in Donghyuck’s direction. He curls his fingers into their shirt, tugging them upwards.

Renjun intervenes, squeezing his slight frame in between their bodies to push them apart. “It was an accident, Mark! We didn’t know it was you.”

Donghyuck cranes his neck to see Yukhei laying on the ground, wincing in pain as Mark stands over him. Unconvinced by Renjun’s words, Mark reaches down and grabs Yukhei by the scruff of his neck.

“Stop, Mark, let us explain,” Jeno pushes him back.

Renjun tugs at Mark’s sleeve, pulling him aside. “We were ambushed half an hour ago and Yukhei got hurt badly. They tried to steal the scrolls we’re supposed to retrieve for the mission but then they realised we didn’t have it yet,” Renjun informs. “We had just settled—over there behind the bushes—to tend to Yukhei’s wounds, when Jeno said he heard voices. We all panicked and mistook you for the guys who attacked us! We genuinely thought they were back for more…”

“Well, you should have checked before you started letting him fling fireballs at us,” Mark nudges his head towards Yukhei. “You burned Donghyuck!” he exclaims, staring down at Yukhei.

Yukhei’s face falls at Mark’s accusation. Donghyuck wants to climb up to tell him it’s okay, that it’s no one’s fault, but his thigh is pulsing. The pain is creeping back.

“Well,” Jaemin, still squatting beside Donghyuck, speaks up quietly.

Simultaneously, their heads whip around to stare at him.

Jaemin averts his eyes to stare at a patch of grass, his face guilty, “I’m a Fire Yielder too, Mark. The fireball that struck Donghyuck could’ve easily been one of mine…”

Mark kicks at the dirt and curses. As he turns away from Jeno and Yukhei, his face comes back into Donghyuck’s view. His mouth is clamped shut, his jaw tensing.

“Renjun, you might want to come have a look at Donghyuck,” Jaemin calls. “The burn wound—it’s not looking good.”

“Let me have a look,” Renjun nods, rushing to Donghyuck’s side. He shouts in horror at the sight of the ice pack. “Don’t ice it! You’re going to give him frostbites!” Frantically, but with steady hands, Renjun unties Jaemin’s jacket.

Donghyuck whimpers as the material of Jaemin’s jacket drag over his raw wound.

“Oh Hyuckie,” Renjun sighs. “That does not look good,” he frowns, uttering the same words Jaemin had said earlier. “I’ll see what I can do.” He glances at his tracking band, checking his energy levels. Unlike Donghyuck’s team, Renjun and his team members have red tracking bands. “I should be able to do something to relieve the pain but I’ll need Jeno and Mark to run cool water over the wound afterwards.”

Renjun bunches his sleeves around his elbow and sets to work. He scrutinises the wound then sets a glowing palm over it. Donghyuck sighs in relief. It provides instant relief to the pain that had returned at full force after Renjun removed the ice pack.

“Thank you,” Donghyuck murmurs weakly, closing his eyes to rest.

He’s filled with gratitude and he silently thanks the higher beings for a diligent friend like Renjun, who has self-learned basic Healing techniques over the years. For the first time, he’s grateful that his friend has persistently declined Donghyuck’s invitations to join his antics, opting for his Healing books instead.

“Actually, there’s a riverbank nearby,” Renjun announces, “It might be better if you guys let Donghyuck soak his leg in the water.”

“How long does he need to soak it for? We need to get him out. I think what he needs is proper medical attention from a Healer,” Jaemin says, glancing at his tracking band. “We’ve got another half an hour until Reporting Stations open.”

Renjun hums in agreement, “Have you completed your mission yet?”

“We have,” Jaemin nods, “But we haven’t found our Reporting Station. Would you happen to have stumbled across Reporting Station 1?”

Renjun perks up, “We have! It’s not far from the river too. I’m afraid we’ll have to leave you guys after I’m done helping Donghyuck. I’m happy to give you the directions but we still haven’t completed our mission, so we’ll have to get going. Jeno thinks we’re close though. Luckily we’ve already found our Reporting Station.”

They continue to chatter, sharing their experiences over the past 24-hours. Donghyuck discovers that Renjun has a different mission to them and that their team number correlates to their allocated Reporting Station.

“Odd team numbers are at Reporting Station 1 and even team numbers are at Station 2,” Renjun informs.

Jaemin helps Donghyuck to sit up when Renjun’s done. By then, Mark has calmed down, though he refuses to look in Yukhei’s direction. He’s speaking to Jeno in hushed whispers, unzipping his pack to show him their box. Jeno gestures wildly, a deep frown etched on his face.

Yukhei has isolated himself and Donghyuck spots him sitting dejectedly against a tree.

“Sorry Hyuckie, I’m running low on Yielding energy,” Renjun says apologetically, brushing the dirt out of Donghyuck’s hair with a tender expression on his face.

Renjun’s diligent, empathetic, and selfless; he possesses all the best qualities that embody a Healer. Donghyuck’s chest bursts with pride. Renjun is going to make a wonderful Healer.

“It still requires proper treatment from a Healer but I did what I can,” Renjun brushes Donghyuck’s fringe out of his eyes. “Soak it in water for a bit when you’re by the river.” He draws Donghyuck in a tight hug.

“It’s okay, you did more than I could ever thank you for,” Donghyuck smiles sadly. “Take care, don’t get hurt alright?”

Renjun nods enthusiastically, “All the best for the rest of the exam, I’ll see you out of the arena.”

The two teams part ways and Jaemin carries Donghyuck on his back, careful not to touch his wound. They follow Renjun’s instructions and not long after, they come across the river. Donghyuck sighs in relief as Jaemin lowers him into the water. He winces at the sight of his wound. The water soaks right through his pants but he couldn’t care less, not when the cool water is doing wonders to soothe his burn.

“Alright, Mark and I are going to search the area for the Reporting Station. We’ve got another five minutes till it opens. We shouldn’t be long. Will you be okay by yourself here?”

Donghyuck nods sleepily. “Don’t worry about me, I’m super comfortable here. Could probably have a nap too!” he jokes and Jaemin shoves at his shoulder playfully.

Exhaustion sets in as soon as his team members wander off. According to his tracking band, he only has twenty percent Yielding energy left. It’s dangerously low but they’re close to completing the exam, so he should be okay.

He revels in the quiet, allowing the burbling of the river to fill his mind. Just as Donghyuck considers shifting down the riverbank to rest under a patch of sunlight, he hears a shout of surprise from across the river. Alert, he readies himself.

His blood runs cold as another shout resounds, closer this time. The owner of the voice is unmistakably Jaemin. He pushes himself to his feet and wades through the water to the other side of the riverbank. The sensation of his pounding heart overrides the pain in his thigh as he ambles towards the treeline in the general direction of Jaemin’s voice.

Donghyuck doesn’t have to search for long before he finds his friend. He rushes forward towards the commotion, where Jaemin is fending off two of their peers. A rush of adrenaline flows through his body and he breaks off into a run, stomach twisting uncomfortably when he realises one of the Yielders fighting with Jaemin is none other than Yeonhee—Yukhei’s Light Yielder friend.

She catches sight of Donghyuck and thrusts a hand out. He registers the white glow of her palm and he realises belatedly, what Yeonhee is trying to do.

Donghyuck loses sight of everything in his visual field, submerging in darkness. He rubs at his eyes, trying to stop Yeonhee but it’s useless. He continues to shift towards Jaemin, using the feeling of the earth beneath him to his advantage, guiding himself towards the commotion. He shakes his head wildly, attempting to throw off Yeonhee’s hold on him.

Yeonhee doesn’t budge.

A blinding pain overwhelms him as he slams the side of his head against something rough. Reaching a hand out, he feels the rough bark of the tree trunk. Groaning loudly, he topples over, collapsing to the ground.

As he falls, Yeonhee releases her hold and he slowly regains his vision. Feebly, he tries to climb back up but the pain in his head becomes increasingly unbearable. The pain in his thigh rushes back too.

He really needs to get up and help Jaemin but the pain is overwhelming. Everything spins around him. Donghyuck squeezes his eyes shut, drowning out the muffled voices, desperately pleading the pain to go away.

He feels a warm hand wrap around his right forearm and instinctively, he reciprocates, wrapping his own hand around the person’s forearm.

Donghyuck perks up. Jaemin, he thinks, Jaemin's okay. The vine bracelet slides down his wrist as Jaemin gently tilts his arm upwards. His head feels heavy but he braces himself, waiting for Jaemin to pull him back to his feet. But before he rises to his feet, he begins to feel unwell, his chest progressively becoming heavier and heavier. Donghyuck gasps for air. The hand on his forearm grows tighter and warmer. The way Jaemin has angled their grip doesn’t seem right.

He cracks one eye open, then another, confirming his suspicions. The person standing over him is too short, much too stocky to be Jaemin. This person had never intended to help Donghyuck; they had initiated an Energy Transfer.

Donghyuck gasps in horror as his energy bleeds out of his palms. He tilts his head up. The midday sun is unforgiving and he squints hard, blinking the spots out of his eyes. He attempts to dislodge the energy thief, but they stand their ground, tightening their grip around Donghyuck.

His tracking band beeps, thrice.

“Stop!” Donghyuck squirms, kicking his legs feebly.

He squints in a desperate attempt to register the features of the blurry-faced thief that continues to loom over him. He scrabbles at the person’s arm but it’s no use.

His tracking band is beeping frantically. The last of his energy seeps out through his fingertips and exhaustion overwhelms him.

Donghyuck flickers in and out of consciousness.

Every time he wakes, he hears muffled voices, like he’s submerged in water. It’s also difficult to hear over the terrible whirring noise that fills his ears. Donghyuck thinks they’re calling out to him, asking him to wake up but his eyelids feel heavy. He struggles to pry them open. He wants to tell them that he’s okay, just really tired. He wants to tell them that after a long nap, he’ll be okay.

But he’s so exhausted. It’s too effortful to open his eyes and vocalise these thoughts. So he sleeps.

At some point he does manage to crack an eye open. The whirring noise is as loud as ever and it begins to irritate Donghyuck. As his vision stops blurring, he realises that he’s in a Healing Pod. He’s never been in one of these but he’s seen them in hospitals before. They’re supposed to amplify the Healer’s Yielding energy and distribute it across the occupant’s body to accelerate the Healing process. Something like that. Donghyuck’s not really sure. He has never paid great attention to Healing.

The thought of Healing makes him miss his parents and Yerim dearly. He’s suddenly flooded with the need to see them. He wishes he had listened to them more, as they spilt their passion and knowledge in Healing.

A Healer comes in view—Kun, he slowly recognises—standing to his right. Donghyuck blinks sleepily at him through the glass but Kun doesn’t notice that he’s awake.

Kun’s eyebrows are pinched in concentration as he fiddles with the controller outside of the Pod. Then, he raises both hands and channels a great amount of energy into the port on the side of the Pod. A comfortable warmth washes over Donghyuck and he closes his eyes to sleep again.

The next time he wakes, properly this time, Kun is beside him once again. Donghyuck stirs at the muffled clattering of the keyboard that filters into the Pod as Kun’s hands fly over the keys rapidly, typing a command into the system.

The Pod beeps three consecutive times, then the noisy whirring stops. He cracks an eye open just on time to see Kun pulling the latch on the side of the Pod. The curved glass ceiling of the Pod shifts with a hiss, like the Pod is exhaling sharply.

“Hey,” Kun greets. “Good to see you finally awake, Donghyuck.” He shines a pocket torch into Donghyuck’s eyes, checks his pulse, then presses a glowing hand against Donghyuck’s forehead.

“I paused the Pod to give you some fresh air, it’ll help with the recovery process,” Kun smiles, when he finally completes his check over. His voice is loud and clear, no longer muffled by the thick glass of the Pod.

Donghyuck blinks blearily as Kun helps him to sit up. “You’ll want to be careful with this side, it’s a little tender and bruised,” he gestures vaguely to Donghyuck’s left chest.

On the other end of the room, Donghyuck spots a patch of sunlight that had slipped through the small window. Carefully, Kun removes the oxygen mask from Donghyuck’s face.

“Do you mind if I lift up your pants on this side? I need to check your burn.”

Donghyuck shakes his head mindlessly, eyes fixated on the window. He’s drawn to the sunlight like a silly, helpless moth that obsesses over porch lights.

“Good, the Pod has done its job,” Kun comments, sounding pleased. “Your burn is healed completely but I’m afraid this scar is going to stay.”

Donghyuck glances down, where Kun is gently pressing over his skin with a gloved hand. He gasps loudly at the sight. On his right thigh, there remains a raging red mark, almost the size of his hand. His eyes flicker back to the window. All he wants to do right now is to bask in the sun, to feel the earth beneath his bare hands and feet.

“Can I go outside?” he rasps, voice hoarse from lack of use.

Kun presses a glass of water to his lips, shaking his head, “I’m afraid not. At least not today.” He rubs Donghyuck’s back gently at his sullen expression. “But now that you’re finally awake, I think one more night in the Pod then we can shift you to a normal bed.”

The water does wonders to relieve his parched throat. But what he really needs is the sun. In fact, he wants to see his plants. He hopes he hasn’t been knocked out for too long, because his plants would miss him terribly, especially his little sunflower. Amidst these thoughts, an idea pops in his mind.

“Kun, I’m feeling hungry, can you get me some food?” he asks, a sickly sweet smile plastered on his face.

Kun nods, promising to be back with food quickly.

As soon as Kun’s out the door, Donghyuck peels off the electrodes stuck to his face and body. Clumsily, he slips off the cool gel mattress lining the bed inside the Pod. With unsteady footsteps, he makes a beeline for the door.

He hisses as he steps into the hallway. Unlike the carpet in the treatment room, the tiled flooring in the hallway is cold against his bare feet. He leans heavily against the walls as he shuffles along the hallway, beginning to feel dizzy.

He doesn’t make it far from the room. He yelps in surprise as he rounds the corner and runs right into a headful of red hair. His hand flies up to cover his forehead, where he had bumped into the other person’s head. They react quickly, steadying Donghyuck before he falls.

“Lee Donghyuck!” Yerim snaps, “What are you doing out here? Get back into the Pod!” She shrieks the last sentence and Donghyuck winces. She’s an awful lot like their mother when she’s angry.

“I feel okay though?” Donghyuck lies, squirming in Yerim’s grip.

The exit to the Infirmary is just down the hallway, he just has to push past Yerim. He only wants to soak his body in sunlight, that’s all. But Yerim blocks his way. They bicker for a bit until Donghyuck’s body gives in.

He slumps forward into Yerim’s arms abruptly and she stumbles back at his weight.

“Hyuckie?” she calls frantically, “Hyuckie, are you still with me?”

“Mm,” Donghyuck mumbles back, “Dizzy.” The hallway is spinning more than it did earlier and his chest tightens.

She sighs, brushing his hair out of his eyes as his breathing becomes effortful. “Oh Hyuckie, you really have to stay in bed!” she cries.

Kun comes sprinting down the hallway.

“Yerim,” he pants, “Thank goodness you found him.” Donghyuck’s too weak to walk back to the room with support so Kun carries him on his back.

Kun sighs as they settle him back into the Pod, “Donghyuck, you have to rest. You must understand that when they drained your Yielding energy, it caused quite a bit of damage to your body. Naturally, your body wants to protect itself and prevent it from further harm, but in doing so, some of your organs have... how do I explain this?” Kun taps his chin thoughtfully.

Kun continues his explanation but the words blur together. He catches some phrases here and there towards the tail end of his explanation.

“In simple terms… but your body isn’t absorbing the Healing energy… it’s going to take much longer than you think to recover.”

Donghyuck’s eyelids shut involuntarily and his chest constricts.

“It hurts when I breathe,” he rasps, his hand scrabbling for purchase on the gel mattress.

“Yerim, I need you to put him into Induced Sleep. I need to turn the Pod back on,” Kun’s calm voice filters in. The oxygen mask slips back on his face.

There’s a distant clacking of the keyboard, shuffling footsteps and a loud beep from the Pod. Then, he feels a warm palm on his forehead—probably Yerim’s—and tranquillity floods his mind. The Pod whirs noisily in the background and he welcomes sleep with open arms.

Doyoung is reading a book on a plastic chair by his Pod when he wakes. Kun and Yerim are nowhere in sight, but the Pod is deactivated and the glass door is opened. The oxygen mask is no longer on his face. Donghyuck groans, shielding his eyes from the bright artificial lights glaring down from the ceiling.

“You’re an idiot.” Doyoung says fondly, glancing up from his book. “Don’t you dare think about climbing out of the Pod again.” Then he mutters under his breath, a clear warning, “Not on my watch.”

Donghyuck pushes himself to a sitting position. The sky’s darkening outside the small window. He glances around the room, eyes skirting past a trolley of medical equipment, then to the bouquet of fresh flowers that sit in a porcelain vase on the bedside table between his Pod and Doyoung’s plastic chair. His head swivels and he also spots a stack of cards sitting on a small table at the end of his Pod.

Curious, he raises a glowing palm towards it. Doyoung flies to his side immediately, stopping him with a firm grip around his wrist before he can even think about looping a vine around the table to draw it closer to his side.

“You’re an idiot,” he repeats in a stern voice, “Yielding before you’ve healed properly?”

Donghyuck pulls his hand back with a pout. “I just wanted to see my cards.”

“You could’ve just asked,” Doyoung rolls his eyes, gathering the cards and depositing them in Donghyuck’s lap. “Your friends came by earlier. Somehow, they all heard about how you finally woke up at noon today.”

“Oh, who came by?”

Donghyuck thumbs open the first card, smiling at the sight of the message ‘Get well soon!!!!!!!!! Love, Jaemin’ in Jaemin’s neat print. Beneath the spot where Jaemin had signed off, in a different coloured pen, someone had scrawled ‘+ Jeno’. Donghyuck snorts. The next two cards have also been signed off with ‘+ Jeno’ at the bottom. It’s a running joke between him and Jeno from that time a few years back when Donghyuck had forgotten to make a birthday card for Mark and scribbled ‘+ Donghyuck’ on Jeno’s card.

Doyoung shrugs, “Your usual crew of troublemakers. I finally met your roommate though, the one you were telling me about a few weeks back. Oh, and one of them even brought along a pot plant but I think he took it away with him when Kun chased them all out for being too noisy.”

Donghyuck chuckles, leafing through more cards. There’s even one from Taeyong.

Renjun’s card is his favourite. He even went as far as digging out his old stash of crayons and drawing childish potato figures, not unlike the pictures they used to draw for each other when they were young, barely five years of age. Underneath the drawing, he printed in a ballpen, ‘Your plants are safe. You can thank me later.’ Further down, Donghyuck reads, ‘P.S. I think your smallest sunflower hates me, it keeps wiggling wildly when I try to water it. I can almost hear it scream.’

They chatter playfully for a while and Doyoung fills him in on the events that he had missed over the past few days whilst he was unconscious and recovering in the Pod. Fortunately, his team successfully passed the Fieldwork exam. Kun was among the team of Healers that was waiting at the Reporting Station when Donghyuck’s team had arrived.

“Do the examiners know? That I have this?” Donghyuck tugs his pants up to reveal the ugly scar on his thigh.

Doyoung shakes his head. “I heard from Mark about what had happened, but it appears that he and Jaemin had lied to Professor Oh when they were questioned about your injuries.” Donghyuck sighs in relief. His teammates made a clever decision and saved both his and Renjun’s team from disqualification. “I think they’re under the impression that the Fire Yielder from the team that ambushed you did this.”

Donghyuck frowns as his last memories from the arena returns.

“That team was disqualified, by the way. They were nothing but a bunch of cowards who were worried that they won’t make it to the top two-thirds to pass the exam, so they felt the need to sabotage the performance of other Yielders. They also attacked other teams and will be punished heavily for their actions.” Doyoung tucks a bookmark between the pages of his book. Then, he says idly, “But in my opinion, they should have been expelled. Playing dirty like that is strongly against the Institution’s values.”

Donghyuck’s chest feels lighter at this news. He suppresses a smile. “Are you listening to yourself?” he teases Doyoung, “You sound just like Principal Jung, talking about the Institution’s values and all. He’s practically ancient, but… I guess you are too.”

A dangerous look flashes across Doyoung’s face but he’s interrupted before he can shift from his seat to strangle Donghyuck.

“Donghyuck—” The door bursts open, revealing a breathless Mark. “You’re okay.”

“Of course I’m okay,” Donghyuck scoffs, swivelling his body so that he is sitting at the edge of the Pod. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

The gel mattress is laid on a raised platform and Donghyuck’s feet dangle off the edge, high above the ground. Doyoung flashes him another dangerous look, assuming Donghyuck is about to climb off the bed. Donghyuck waves him off, wiggles his toes and remains seated at the edge.

Doyoung rises to his feet to pinch his cheeks unforgivingly. “Good, because my lab would be dead quiet without your annoyingly loud voice.”

Donghyuck’s face cracks into a wide grin. “My presence is a blessing.” He punches Doyoung’s side playfully.

Out of habit, Doyoung shifts to wrap his arm around Donghyuck’s neck for a head choke but then his body stills. Doyoung draws in a sharp breath, pulling himself back.

“Brat,” he hisses under his breath, “I’m sparing you this one time because Kun will come and hunt me down if I choke you.”

He ruffles Donghyuck’s hair, then reaches for the whiteboard marker, scribbling wildly on the whiteboard attached to the end of Donghyuck’s Pod. Mark hovers around Donghyuck’s Pod, observing quietly. Donghyuck cranes his neck curiously, but the whiteboard is out of view from where he is seated.

Doyoung steps back, surveying his work with a satisfied smile. “Alright, I’ve had enough of you for today. I’ll leave Mark to deal with you.” He caps the marker with a click and tucks it back where he found it.

“You love me!” Donghyuck shouts at Doyoung’s retreating figure. He hisses, his chest stinging where his rib is bruised. He makes a mental note to not exert too much effort when talking or to not breathe in too deeply until he has healed properly.

“Bye brat!” Doyoung calls back, drawing the door shut behind him.

“What does it say?” Donghyuck cranes his neck at the whiteboard again. “Read it out to me.”

Mark shuffles to the end of his Pod and snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. “It says in capital letters, ‘do not feed his ego’.”

Donghyuck cackles loudly and Mark laughs with him. They fall into deafening silence when their laughter fades away.

“Doyoung told me that you carried me out of the arena on your back,” Donghyuck declares, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Mark affirms, “I did. But only after knocking the lights out of the fucking cheaters who nearly took your life.”

Mark reaches over to his right wrist and thumbs over Donghyuck’s name on his vine bracelet. Then, Mark's pulling away, shifting to sit in the plastic chair Doyoung had sat in earlier. Donghyuck suppresses his disappointment.

“Guess we’re even now huh? Life for a life.” Donghyuck chuckles at his own words but ceases when Mark doesn’t laugh.

“I-I was so scared,” Mark whispers, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Donghyuck lays his hand on top of Mark’s. In the soft voice he reserves for his little sunflower, he says, “Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Mark chokes up, tilting his head up towards the ceiling. “Yeah, but you were knocked out for days, Donghyuck. You weren’t waking up a-and everyone was so worried because people usually recover much faster.”

Donghyuck’s heartstrings tug and he desperately wants to apologise for worrying him. Mark blinks wildly, his eyes glistening with unspilled tears.

“It felt like someone had dug a knife into my chest and left it there when I came by your room, day by day, and watched you lay there. Lifeless.”

“Mark,” Donghyuck says, his voice suddenly hoarse. “Come here.”

He opens his arms wide to offer Mark a hug. A hug, he thinks, just what they both needed. Mark accepts the gesture gratefully, nuzzling his cheek against Donghyuck’s neck.

Donghyuck strokes his hair. “I’m okay now, so don’t worry.”

His eyes flutter close and he continues to stroke Mark’s hair. It hasn’t been long since Donghyuck has risen but the exhaustion is creeping back. His eyes flicker open again when Mark shifts.

He expects Mark to move back to the chair but he stops after he pulls back far enough and scrutinises Donghyuck’s face.

“What? Something on my face?” Donghyuck blurts.

Then, Mark’s leaning in, close—too close. He feels the soft puff of Mark’s breath against his cheek. Donghyuck’s breath hitches. His eyes flicker to Mark’s lips but—

No, he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t think of Mark that way—

Mark pecks Donghyuck’s cheek quickly, dangerously close to the corner of Donghyuck’s lips. When Mark reels back, his ears are awfully red.

Stunned, Donghyuck raises a hand to stroke at his face, where Mark’s lips had just come in contact. Donghyuck inhales, feeling his breath catch in his throat. He suddenly feels breathless.

“Rest up,” Mark clears his throat, looking at everywhere but in Donghyuck’s eyes. In a timid voice, he continues, “I’ll… see you later?”

He holds off on making a snarky comment about Mark’s ears because his own ears are probably becoming redder by the second. Mark clears his throat again at Donghyuck’s lack of response and begins to shuffle awkwardly, in the general direction of the door. Donghyuck catches his wrist and draws him back.

“Kiss me properly, you coward,” he taunts under his breath.

Mark scoffs, acting nonchalant. But his eyes betray him. They flicker down the curve of Donghyuck’s nose, settling on his lips.

Before he can change his own mind, Donghyuck curls a firm hand in Mark’s shirt and tugs sharply, pulling him downwards. He tilts his head upwards and their lips meet halfway. Donghyuck’s eyes flutter to a close.

Mark presses his lips against Donghyuck’s softly, raising a hand to cup his cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Mark whispers against his lips when they pull away to catch their breath. He rests his forehead against Donghyuck’s.

“Shut up.” Donghyuck draws him closer for another kiss. “Kiss first, talk later.”

With every press of their lips, everything aligns in Donghyuck’s world as he finally falls in orbit with Mark.