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Autumn had arrived in Kouka.
The fallen leaves bled shades of crimson and orange, painting a medley of harvest colors against the backdrop of the palace walls. There was a quiet laziness in the air, and all but one lone figure had retreated indoors for the afternoon.
The young man strolled languidly through the palace grounds, casually chewing on a pastry he’d swiped from the kitchen. He was searching for the feisty princess and her cousin, having lost them a ways back when he was preoccupied with hunger.
It had always been like this, for as long as he could remember. Hak was always just the slightest of steps behind them. These days, it seemed like he was falling a little farther behind, becoming more of a shadow.
Things were changing.
The charcoal-haired boy was growing taller and broader with all the training his grandfather put him through. The lankiness of his limbs were strengthening into lean muscle. His features had lost the natural fat of a child, elongating and taking the shape of a man.
Hak was not the only one developing.
On the outside, Soo-Won seemed to have the same gentle nature as always, but Hak could feel a subtle, almost imperceptible darkness lurking in his closest friend. He tried not to think about it too much, trusting the blonde to tell him of any troubles.
Yona, on the other hand, was changing in a different way, a way that was much too confusing and tumultuous for the young man to think on.
When had it become so hard to get the bratty little princess out of his head?
Hak was jolted out of his thoughts by a soft tinkling sound. He looked ahead to see an old woman standing before a great oak tree, struggling to hang the shrine bells up on one of the branches. She wore a priestess’ white and gold robes, and the ornate jewelry decorating her head and neck were indicative of her high rank.
He quietly approached the woman, grasped the string of bells gently in his large hand, and placed them carefully on the branch she’d chosen.
The old woman gasped, glancing up at him in surprise. She then smiled gratefully, face crinkling into well-worn grooves. “Thank you, young man...” Her elegantly slanted gaze studied him for a long moment, eyes growing bewildered.
She was probably just surprised that anyone was still outside on this lazy day, Hak mused. “No problem.” He bowed his head slightly in respect, turning to leave.
A deceptively strong hand suddenly gripped his arm, and Hak was jerked backwards.
“It’s you ,” Unbridled joy flooded the priestess’ voice as she latched onto Hak’s forearms. “The dark-haired young man from my visions.”
“V-visions?” The priestess was starting to frighten Hak with the intensity of her words, her pale blue irises glazing over into a haunting cloudiness.
“I have seen you. I have seen you, in years ahead, as the strongest among all warriors, the most honored and revered of our kingdom. You will stand side by side with the great Crimson Dragon King, and protect him with your life, bound not by blood but by soul.”
“You mean King Il?” Hak vaguely remembered the aging king was always spouting some nonsense about the old King Hiryuu...
“No. Not King Il.” Her wrinkled hand raised upwards, towards the cloudless sky. “You are fated to be with her .”
Hak’s gaze followed her finger to an open window of a room on the floor above, and his stomach simultaneously plummeted and soared.
Yona stood up there, laughing at an unknown joke, her small hand lifted in front of her mouth as if she needed to hide such a gorgeous smile. Crimson hair rippled in the breeze, striking a match to a fire that consumed him to his very core.
A sharp sensation woke Hak.
He hissed quietly, letting the searing blaze roll through his body as per usual, breathing in and out as evenly as he could.
Inhale. Exhale. Let the pain fade on its own.
Once the harsh feeling had finally ebbed out of his body, Hak slumped against the tree he had been resting against, swallowing dryly.
“Ah, you’re awake Hak.”
His eyes flicked to the side, landing on the source of his anguish. “Morning, Princess.”
She beamed at him, cheery as ever. He sleepily observed the strands of burgundy hair dancing around her neck, grazing her shoulders in glancing touches. Her hair was growing longer these days.
“We’re getting ready to go.” Hak looked up at the sky, surprised to see the sun already in its midday position.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He was supposed to help pack up the tents, and beat Jae-ha awake, and-
“You seemed really tired these last few days, so I told them all to let you sleep in.” She crouched down, scooting forward until she was close enough to gently lay a hand over his bangs and onto his forehead. “Hm. Thankfully, I don’t think you have a fever.” Tell that to his burning skin.
Yona stood up daintily, skirt swishing around her ankles. “Are you coming, Hak?” She called over her shoulder, swinging her quiver onto her back carefully.
“Yes, Princess.” He murmured dutifully, stuffing the ache in his chest back to the dark space where it belonged.
Indeed, he would follow her anywhere. Prophecy or not, priestesses and soulmates be damned.
He would follow because that was what he had always done, from the time they were children, from that sweet savored moment he had called her his in front of that silly Fire Tribe prince, from the instant he’d realized that his heart had made its home in her hands.
If it was his fate to follow in the princess’ footsteps, then that was what he would gladly do for the rest of his life.
There was no pain today. There had been no pain for the last few weeks or so.
Hak wondered wryly if it was because he had conditioned himself so well to the feeling of wanting Yona or if destiny had finally chosen to fuck off .
No, it was probably his head and heart finally, momentarily , putting his feelings in the recesses of his mind in favor of their current dilemma.
“I will slow down Su-won’s— the Sky Tribe’s— twenty thousand troops’ advance.”
Hak could hardly stand it.
This beautiful fool. This self-sacrificing, brave, stupid, lovely girl was about to throw herself at the front lines of a goddamn army . And she was sending him away?
His ears barely registered her words, something about the Wind Tribe waiting for him, and reuniting with the others later. All he could see was that soft, reassuring smile that did little to assuage his fears.
She held her little fist up, eyes melting. “Okay? It’ll just be for a little bit!”
Hak reluctantly raised his own curled fist to hers, noting just how small she was compared to him. “...I understand. I’ll be waiting.”
He steeled himself, staring down at her, preparing for the moment she’d turn her back and leave him once more. Preparing for the pain that would inevitably return in her wake. Instead, she only looked back up at him, lavender eyes radiant even in the dim lighting of the room.
He was so lost for her. The home of his heart and soul.
Hak was too distracted, drowning in his thoughts, to acknowledge her hands reaching for the sides of his hood, delicately grasping the fabric.
“Hak…” Yona’s tiny fingers curled inwards. His head was gently pulled down, and her hot breath whispered along his face. Soft lips brushed against his mouth in a chaste, ever so fragile kiss.
There was some indescribable feeling bubbling up in his chest. It wasn’t quite relief, nor was it joy. If Hak could describe it once his head had cleared, it would be pure light.
His soul had not felt pain in weeks because perhaps, in some wonderfully irrational way, a part of his princess yearned to kiss him just as much as he yearned to kiss her.
Perhaps destiny hadn’t forsaken Hak after all.