Work Text:
Na Jaemin has many secrets.
His allergy to feathers is one. The fact that he hates modelling despite all of the gigs his father forces upon him is another. But his superhero persona, something that he took up almost a year ago, is by far the biggest of them all.
Every city has its heroes, and Seoul has Harlequin and Black Rose — the miraculouses of creation and destruction's heroic wielders. Two sides of the same coin, their powers create a balanced scale of life and death, order and chaos. Together, they are powerful. Together, they are unstoppable.
Black Rose is the name Jaemin chose for himself. Beauty shrouded in darkness, a fragile bloom engulfed in mystery. He doesn’t want to be like his predecessors, doesn’t want his name to blend in with the thousands of black cat miraculous wielders in the past. This identity, this character that he is when his mask is on is unique. Na Jaemin is unique, and his name will reflect that much.
It’s hard, managing his life as a teenager in his final years of high school, with exams to study for, a flourishing modelling career that saps up almost all of his spare time, and a secret identity he has to keep hidden not just for everyone's safety, but for his, too.
But it's not impossible. Just another secret added to the pile, another stick thrown into the fire. Hiding it certainly isn’t easy, but it’s doable.
If there is something Jaemin loves, it’s proving people wrong, and this crazy balancing act called his life is proof.
“Have you finished your essay yet?”
Jaemin smiles at his best friend, pulling out a sheet of paper covered in his small, neat handwriting.
Donghyuck groans, flopping into his seat beside Jaemin with a theatrical sigh. “How do you manage to finish everything Mr Jung assigns?”
“Time management,” he grins, hoping that his eyebags from his few hours of restless sleep aren't too prominent.
Donghyuck had already moved on, chattering about some scandal that happened over the weekend. Between running an extremely popular celebrity blog and his mother being a well-known news reporter, nothing that wasn't worth hearing ever escaped his ears. Jaemin wouldn't be surprised if he had dirt on everyone in all of South Korea. "-speaking of which, guess who recorded an interview with 127 News yesterday," he says excitedly, leaning closer to him as if it's some big secret. "Harlequin."
Jaemin raises his eyebrows, leaning back in his seat. "So?"
His best friend elbows him in the ribs. “So? This is the first time he’s made an appearance in the studio,” he says, swiping frantically at his screen. “It’s a huge deal!”
“Pity that Black Rose wasn’t there, though,” Jaemin murmurs, watching over Donghyuck’s shoulder.
Donghyuck waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, but I’m just happy one of them showed up.”
Jaemin was supposed to show up with Harlequin, but his parents had suddenly decided that he was better off having extra tutoring (despite his already-perfect grades) instead of piano classes he could easily skip, leaving him with no means to sneak out. He felt bad for leaving Harlequin alone, but the hero had assured him that it was fine.
He tunes back into reality to see his best friend’s phone shoved in front of him, the screen lit up to show Harlequin seated at one of the plush sofas in all his red-clad glory.
“We promise you,” his voice declares through the phone’s speakers, “that with us, Black Rose and Harlequin protecting the city, you’ll have nothing to fear. You-”
“Is that Harlequin?”
They both jump, startled and look up at Jeno, who places two boxes on their desks before taking his seat behind them. “I didn’t know he did interviews,” he adds, nodding at the packages. “those are macarons, by the way.”
“Oh, thanks Jen,” Donghyuck mutters absently, returning his attention to his battered screen. “and he usually doesn’t, it’s his first one.”
“Macarons? You’re a lifesaver, Jeno,” calls Jaemin, shooting him a bright smile. He isn’t oblivious to how Jeno goes slightly red with the comment, quickly turning away as their teacher, Mr Jung walks in.
“It’s no problem.”
Jaemin isn’t stupid — he knows that if he’s good-looking enough to attract lucrative deals from luxury brands, one of his classmates being attracted to him isn’t out of the ordinary.
Most of the affection is one-sided, Jaemin not having the time nor the emotional capacity to reciprocate it. Besides, he hasn’t met anyone who he likes as much as they like him.
That is, until he met Lee Jeno.
He won’t call it infatuation; it’s less of a crush and more of a strange feeling in his gut that draws him closer to the other. Perhaps it’s the little blessings he’s always ready to give, shown by his gifts of baked goods from his family’s bakery to his classmates, and offers of extra help to anyone who needs it. Or maybe it’s how his compassion shines through his actions, how he’s ready to give up anything to help others.
Jaemin doesn’t question why he finds himself gravitating towards Jeno. There’s a warm aura he gives off that’s addicting, the simple affection that he shares so rare in Jaemin’s household that he clings to it like a baby. He likes Lee Jeno, and knows that if there wasn’t already another in his heart, he would be far more interested.
But he’s brought out of his thoughts too soon by water dripping down the window he was staring at as he zoned out, the frost that coated its exterior melting quickly.
Wasn’t it snowing earlier on his way to school?
He glances at Mr Jung, who has his back turned, and back at the window, noticing a large mushroom cloud appear above the buildings surrounding the school. A column of flame erupts shortly after and a few cars fly through the air, making it clear that it’s the work of something supernatural.
He quickly raises his hand. “Mr Jung, may I use the restroom?”
The teacher glances at him. “Be quick.”
Jaemin calmly heads out of the room and sprints away as soon as he’s in the corridor, not noticing Jeno do the same in the opposite direction after he leaves. He makes a sharp turn into a classroom he knows is empty, slams the door behind him and twists the ring on his finger.
“Claws out!”
Jaemin leaps from roof to roof, heading towards the 200-metre tall, vaguely dragon-like monster that rampaged the streets. The strangest thing about the beast is that its entire body is made of large pixels from head to gigantic feet, resembling a character from a video game.
Pixelated fire erupts from its maw as it steps on a car, crushing it like a tin can, and Jaemin notices a tiny figure seated in the centre of the monster’s chest, clearly the akuma’s victim, protected by a translucent shield.
“Harlequin and Black Rose, come forward and surrender your miraculouses before I destroy South Korea, starting with your beloved Seoul!”
Jaemin jumps onto a street light to get a closer look and is knocked over when the monster swings its tail, knocking over a row of parked cars and the place he is perched on. He falls for a second before a familiar yo-yo loops around his waist, stopping him from hitting the ground.
“Glad to see that you’ve arrived, Beetleboy,” grins Jaemin, hanging upside-down with his arms crossed. He’s face-to-face with Harlequin, who frowns at the nickname and retracts his yo-yo, forcing Jaemin to twist in midair to avoid landing head-first on the tarmac.
“So,” Harlequin smirks. “the cat does land on his feet, after all.”
“It would be catastrophic if I didn’t, LB. Anyways, I think the akuma’s in his mouse.”
“Suspecting the mouse first? That’s very on-brand of you, Mister Whiskers,” the hero laughs, assessing the beast with calculating eyes. “I think you’re correct.”
“I’m always spot on, haven’t you gotten used to it by now?”
Harlequin shoots him an exasperated look. “I can name at least eight situations where you weren’t.”
“Well, you must’ve forgotten that this lucky cat has nine lives.”
“Aren’t black cats supposed to be bad luck-”
The monster hones in on the sound of their voices. “Look who’s finally decided to show up,” the magnified voice crows. “I hope you’re prepared for your deaths.”
“Death? That wasn’t in the tutorial,” Jaemin grins, cracking his knuckles. “Someone nerf this knockoff Godzilla.”
“I think playing 2 vs 1 is an advantage enough. You ready, player two?”
“Let’s play this game. You know what to do, Bugaboo.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“What would you rather me call you? Misterbug?”
Harlequin rolls his eyes as Jaemin takes a running jump and grabs onto a pixelated arm, ducking to avoid a ball of fire before beginning to climb towards the beast’s centre. Harlequin skirts around the beast, winding his yo-yo’s infinite string around parked cars to create a large-scale tripwire.
After a while, Jaemin finds himself paying more attention to Harlequin instead of the thing that’s trying to burn him to ashes.
It’s pretty obvious that he has a crush on Harlequin. Not only does he find his intelligent personality incredibly attractive, it’s also the fact that their personalities match each other the way no one else’s does. He makes spending their nights patrolling the city fun, making small talk and bad puns to pass time feels different with him. They get each other in a special way. But for the sake of both their identities staying concealed, dating was out of the picture.
Jaemin respects that. Being a superhero means responsibilities, and getting romantically involved with his partner isn’t part of the bargain. His feelings get hidden and locked away, his true emotions covered by excessive flirting and cheesy pick-up lines. It, like all of the others, becomes nothing but a secret.
And, like all the others, it is a secret he plans to keep.
A white butterfly flutters through the air, whatever evil that inhabited it purified by Harlequin’s powers.
Its victim, which turned out to be a boy about Jaemin’s age, stumbles, and Jaemin is quick to catch him. He looks around, dazed, before narrowing down on Jaemin, who is holding him up, and Harlequin, who’s standing a little way away. “You saved me, thank you.”
Harlequin looks away modestly. “Well, it was mostly Black Rose and his cataclysm-”
Jaemin lightly slaps him on the shoulder. “He’s lying. This time, it was all him.”
The bug-themed hero begins to speak before the spots on his earrings flash, signifying that he didn’t have much time left before the magic runs out and he returns to his civilian state.
Before they can continue their half-hearted banter, reporters pour out of vans and surround them. Despite his dislike for the press, Jaemin signals for Harlequin to take the boy and leave before heading towards the crowd. Within moments, he’s immediately hit by bright flashes and dozens of cameras shoved in his face.
“Over here, Black Rose!”
“When do you think these attacks will stop happening?”
“Will we be speaking to Harlequin today?”
Jaemin brushes their questions away with a smile. “Good morning Seoul! I hope everyone is keeping safe and dressing warmly. Unfortunately, Harlequin has other matters to attend to and I’ll be alone for today.”
He sneaks a peek at Harlequin, who gives him a thumbs-up and a wave before swinging away. Jaemin turns back to the cameras and prepares himself for the onslaught of queries.
“What’s it like being Harlequin’s sidekick?”
Jaemin mentally reels at the comment, barely managing to keep the beam painted on his face. “I’m not his sidekick. Harlequin and I are partners and equals.”
“Do you enjoy being second-in-command?”
“How does it feel, being overshadowed by Harlequin?”
“I’m not,” Jaemin forces out, his teeth gritted. “being overshadowed. Please ask me questions that are relevant."
After answering some questions and dodging past others, Jaemin ducks away and escapes into a public bathroom just as his disguise fades away. As he leaves, a thought he isn’t quite able to silence resonates at the back of his head.
Are they telling the truth? Has he been lying to himself all along?
Jaemin quickly stuffs his things into his backpack, looking around to make sure no one sees him still on the school grounds.
The call for evacuation had been sounded while he was dealing with the akuma, and his parents finding out from a teacher that he’s breaking school rules by sticking around would definitely get him grounded.
He finishes packing and stands up, slinging his bag over his shoulder and picking up the box of macarons on his desk. He turns to leave and runs straight into none other than Lee Jeno.
“What’re you doing here?” he hisses, watching as Jeno walks around him to collect his own belongings.
“Same as you,” mutters Jeno. “getting my stuff.”
Jaemin doesn’t ask why, and instead looks around at the deserted building before turning back to his classmate. “Do you want me to wait for you?”
Jeno seems to hesitate for a second before he nods. “I’ll be quick.”
Jaemin yawns. “Let’s head to your family’s bakery, my parents aren't expecting me home for another few hours.”
“Huh?” Jeno jumps. "I mean, sure!"
They walk out of the school grounds together.
“We did well today.”
Harlequin moves to stand next to Jaemin, letting his arms hang off the railing. Seoul in all of its glittering glory lies before them, streets illuminated by light the city was so famous for. They watch, half-hidden in darkness, as cars trickle onto the roads, drivers too busy with their own lives to spot the heroes standing in the shadows.
Their patrol together is uninterrupted after the morning’s attack, and Jaemin finds himself feeling relieved. No interruptions mean more time alone with Harlequin.
“Yeah, we did.”
The winds are cold on that February night, and Jaemin is painfully aware of his partner’s arm nudging against his.
“The footage from this morning is out, want to see?”
Jaemin shrugs and Harlequin pulls up the news broadcast. His mask-covered face is plastered across the screen, and a recording of his voice breaks the silence.
“Good morning Seoul! I hope everyone is keeping safe and dressing warmly.”
The video transitions to a reporter in a studio, seated behind a chair as muted clips from the morning’s battle play on a screen behind him. “Although we were unable to get ahold of Harlequin this time, we managed to speak to Black Rose, his glorified sidekick and fellow hero.”
Harlequin’s brows furrow. “What?”
“As Black Rose had declared to 127 News this morning, he and Harlequin are partners and equals. Now, how true is that statement? We know that Harlequin possesses strength in combat and intellect, but has Black Rose proved himself to be a match for Harlequin’s abilities?”
“As much he rebuts it, I think we all know who’s the Batman and Robin of our city. Speaking of which, stick around, watchers, for more breaking news and exclusive footage from our private interview with the superhero that has both the brains and the brawn, Harleq-”
There’s a click as Harlequin shuts the display, followed by agonising silence.
“Oh my god,” he breathes, his brown eyes looking at Jaemin with shock and concern.
“I should’ve told them to shut up,” Jaemin says bitterly, resting his chin on his hands.
Don’t let them get to you, Jaemin, he reminds himself. You’re not a sidekick. Prove them wrong.
Harlequin didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around Jaemin, ignoring all the boundaries they’d set beforehand.
I’m here for you, he seems to say. It’s okay.
Harlequin smells like flowers, vanilla and the slightest hint of freshly-baked bread. He smells of a home that Jaemin has always wished for, cosy and warm and full of love. It reminds him strangely of Lee Jeno.
Jaemin lets himself break down. He tears his walls down to the ground and weeps while Harlequin holds him, supports him as his knees give out.
In that moment, he selfishly wishes that their identities aren’t a secret, that Harlequin could be a part of Na Jaemin’s life as well as Black Rose’s. He wishes they could be together, not just during the cold nights with masks on and a line that cannot be crossed drawn between them.
But a hero’s life is never perfect, and Jaemin finally understands why.
Jaemin hates this. He never admitted it to himself before, never allowed himself to truly consider his own feelings. For the first time, he truly allows it to sink in.
He hates hiding under Harlequin’s shadow, forever the darkness to his light. He hates being the sidekick, his entire character reduced to the second lead. He hates having all he’s ever done swept under a carpet, all his actions discredited to paint a picture of inferiority.
Harlequin and Black Rose are a perfect pair, both not any better or worse than the other. They compensate for one another, one’s weakness becoming the other’s strength.
When there isn’t balance, one will sink as the other rises.
Harlequin is the one to rise. He’s the textbook definition of a hero, it’s obvious which the public would favour.
He could hate Harlequin for it. He should hate Harlequin, but he just can’t bring himself to. None of this is his fault, neither is it his own.
The cameras are the real villains, and Jaemin is the hero of his story.
Prove them wrong. Show them what you’re really capable of.
Jaemin is alone in his room when a purple butterfly enters his open window.
If what they want to see is Harlequin, that’s who they’ll get. If they won’t accept that they’re equals, Jaemin will make them.
Every cat has claws, and every rose has thorns.
He’ll make sure they remember that for as long as they live.