Chapter Text
The first day of your twenty-first autumn dawned bitter cold, too cold for the trees and the wild grasses and the inhabitants of your village. You knew, though you tried not to admit it to yourself, that the beginning of the season held bad omens — from the moment you stepped out the threshold of your cottage, you saw the crows perched within the quickly withering trees, and you knew.
Your mentor knew too, maybe before you even had, maybe before anyone else. The greatest healer of the past century, an old woman with more magic flowing through her veins than blood, with more scraps of wisdom than there were silvery hairs on her head. On that first day of autumn, you had woken before her, and you knew something was wrong.
In your village, most people had known from your earliest years that you were born with magic. At any other time, in any other place, this may have been your downfall; had it not been for the benevolence of your mentor to them over the years, the respect you had garnered, you may have been cast into exile. Instead your parents, uncertain of how best to raise you by the time you had turned thirteen, called upon Eunji the healer, and you had remained by her side ever since.
Eunji was small and lithe, made of little more than her muscles and bones and magic, with a curtain of silvery hair she kept in a traditional braid down her back. She taught you how to anticipate natural disasters and illnesses, imbalances of any kind within the world around you; she taught you what native plants you could eat, which would heal and which would harm; and most importantly, she taught you magic.
It was Eunji who taught you that all of the legends you had heard growing up had some seed of truth within them, no matter how deeply buried. And so it was Eunji who had told you of the kumiho living at the top of the mountain, though she could say no more than that it existed and did indeed possess the pearl of knowledge as in the legends, yeowoo guseul . The village stories of its violence, its lust for human flesh — specifically livers — and slaughtering of its adopted family, still sent chills down your spine. Despite the many fears Eunji had managed to expel from you with her wisdom over the years, the kumiho was still too mysterious for you to shake that nervous feeling.
But when the chill descended too soon on that year, you found yourself feeling a deeper fear, staring into the dying wilderness.
Eunji’s decline occurred abruptly. With the abnormal cold came an internal chill which forced your mentor to remain bedridden. You tried all the methods you knew, all the herbs you could find and all the charms and incantations you could imagine to heal your mentor, but the sickness kept her in its icy grip.
Meanwhile, the villagers in the valley became hungry and sick, unprepared for the unprecedented weather that had befallen your land. Although Eunji had trained you well, she was still the better healer by far, and you knew that without her you had no chance of saving the village — and yet to save the village, you first had to save her.
In your desperation, you read every aged tome you could find in Eunji’s library, looked over everything you had written in your journals for any possible solution you could have overlooked.
And it came to you, both a blessing and a curse, the word striking into your heart equal parts fear and hope: the yeowoo guseul .
According to legend (and Eunji), the kumiho ’s power came from its yeowoo guseul , a small but powerful bead-like object which resided inside of the nine-tailed fox. If a human were to kiss a kumiho , one of two things could occur: the kumiho would reclaim the yeowoo guseul , thus taking the human’s energy and their life in the process; or, if the human managed to swallow the marble, they would gain preternatural knowledge from or about anything they laid their eyes upon afterwards.
And it was that knowledge you needed. Things that possibly even Eunji could not know, and that you certainly didn’t — the answers to all your questions about the current state of your home and mentor, and the cure you desperately sought.
So it came to be that only mere days after the beginning of that bitterly cold autumn, you packed a bag and began your trek up the unforgiving mountain, not knowing whether you would ever descend again.
The journey up the slope is lonely. All you have with you is the pack on your back, which contains a small journal, materials to start a fire, a bag of uncooked rice and a small clay pot for you to cook it in. Atop your bag is a thick blanket, rolled tightly and bound with rope to your straps. The more your climb, the less you seem to hear, the woods seeming to swallow up the sound of the animals around you. Your only company are the small animals which occasionally cross your path, but they do no more than glance at you and keep moving. You notice, heart sinking, that they’re all preparing hurriedly for the winter months, many of them without their thick winter coats fully grown to keep them properly warm.
At first, the path is clear. Journeying partially up the mountain isn’t unheard of, especially when it comes to collecting herbs — but it’s well known amongst villagers that this is the kumiho’ s mountain, and you shouldn’t stray far beyond the paths, and should end your journey where they come to an end. By the end of your first day, you’ve already trekked far beyond your usual routes, gently creating your own path with the walking stick you had brought. Along the way you pluck up edible leaves to pair with your rice, occasionally even digging up the roots you know you can eat. It isn’t much, but it will have to do — the lighter you traveled, the quicker you could make it up the more precarious parts of the mountain, and the sooner you could (hopefully) return home to Eunji.
But you can’t shake the feeling that something is off . For starters, there are crows all around you, calling out to one another across the dying woods. Although you take no personal issue to crows, such a large murder of them easily classifies as a bad omen, and you find yourself walking faster the more you hear them. The further you get up the mountain, the more uneasy you feel — in fact, as night falls, you’re sure you can feel eyes on you. Once your meager dinner has been cooked and eaten, you tie your bag up into the branches of the trees, but not before fishing out the protective charm Eunji had given you. You loop the drawstring around your wrist, clutching the pouch in your hand as you lie down on your blanket.
As you stare into the dying embers, allowing yourself to feel enveloped by Eunji’s magic, you think for a moment you see a pair of glowing eyes gazing back at you.
You rise, as you have many times over your life, with the sun. For a long moment you remain in the same position you had awoken in, waiting to hear the telltale chirping of birds or other animals scampering through the brush — but there’s nothing. Your ears are met only with silence, not even the sound of wind in the trees, and you can feel the hairs rising on the back of your neck.
As you roll your blanket up and tie it onto your pack once more, you keep Eunji’s charm on your person, taking what little comfort you can from your mentor’s power.
Although the crows seem to have departed you, you still get the sense that you’re not alone. There are no sounds to indicate another living creature is anywhere near you, but you can feel eyes on you at every turn — and yet whenever you look between the trees, you see nothing. The sky above you is abnormally dark, the sun shrouded with thick clouds that seem to promise nothing but coverage. Without the sunlight shining through the canopy you feel almost claustrophobic, as if the trunks of the trees are all leaning in towards you, threatening to swallow you up into their shadows.
You set up camp for the night relatively early, having found a small clearing just before what appears to be a rather steep portion of the mountain. With the sun already beginning to dip towards the horizon and the temperature dropping steadily with it, you feel you have no choice but to leave that hike till the morning. You’ve only just untied your blanket from your pack when the first rumble of thunder arrives. Looking up into the nearby trees you feel your heart sinking — the dying leaves offer little defense from the rain, and there’s no telling whether the storm will pass by tomorrow. You have no way to keep extra wood dry or carry it practically with you for later campfires. Chewing on your lower lip, you stare into the sky, clutching Eunji’s bag as though it will deliver to you the answer you seek—
“Excuse me.”
In an instant you’re on your feet, allowing Eunji’s bag to fall back under the coverage of your sleeves as you brandish the only weapons at your disposal: your fire-starters.
A young man dressed in white stands across the clearing from you, hands raised so that you can see their emptiness. His expression is friendly but guarded, eyes wide as he regards you, and his clothes appear old. Even from a distance you can see that they’ve been repaired many times over, but they look clean, nonetheless, as does his face and hair. It’s the most basic clothing, free of dyes or embroidery; the kind of clothing worn by many of the farmers and peasants in your village.
Except this man is no villager — at least not one you’ve ever seen, and you’ve seen most of them. This man is a stranger who appeared from the trees like a falling mist, and so you maintain your guarded position as you stare him down.
“Who are you?” you ask, and then, after a moment. “What are you doing on this mountain?” He lowers his hands slowly as he replies, and you feel some of the tension slip off your shoulders as he speaks. His voice, despite being unfamiliar to you, has a soothing quality that you can’t quite place. He holds your gaze as he speaks,
“My name is Younghyun. I’m a woodcutter. I live on this mountain.” At that you narrow your eyes. You had heard of solitary woodcutters living in the mountains, but never on this particular one — hardly anyone dared to climb the kumiho’ s mountain, much less live on it.
“I know this seems strange,” he says, softly. “But there’s a storm coming, and I would feel awful if I didn’t at least offer you shelter for the night. I would understand if you didn’t want to accept—”
As he speaks another rumble of thunder rolls across the sky, and you suddenly feel the air pressure around you changing. It’s clear to you that you don’t have much time left to make your decision. You look from the darkening sky back at the young man, still clutching the tools for your fire in your hands and feeling the weight of your protective pouch in your sleeve. The charm reminds you of your journey’s purpose, and after a moment of consideration you bow your head,
“I’m in your debt, Younghyun.” He looks surprised by your answer at first, but quickly nods his acknowledgement.
“Then we don’t have much time. Here, give me your bag.” He crosses the clearing and scoops your pack up from the ground as you pull your blanket into your arms. Immediately he starts off back in the direction he had come from, and so you follow him with your hands still tangled within the mass of fabric.
Younghyun moves through the woods gracefully, weaving between the trees and brush. Although you’re certain he could rush ahead, he maintains a pace that he knows you can keep, glancing back at you ever so often to be sure you’re alright.
As you ascend, you can see the species of tree changing. Up where Younghyun appears to live you’re surrounded mostly by evergreen trees, with scatterings of pine needles muffling your footsteps. It’s densely wooded, and the ground beneath you has become firmer, more rock than soil. You realize that although you aren’t quite at the highest peak of the mountain, Younghyun appears to be leading you towards one of the many cliffs surrounding it.
He slows his pace, and through the trees you can see the silhouette of a building. Younghyun’s home is smaller than the hut you and Eunji share, but not very different otherwise. If you look out the door you can see across a rocky outcropping which drops off steeply. You’re sure if you stepped onto its broad expanse, you could look up and see the peak — but the coming storm deters you from doing just that.
“I don’t have much food to offer you, but you can at least sleep somewhere dry tonight,” Younghyun says almost sheepishly as he ushers you into his home. You drop your blankets near the fire and reach for your pack, which he hands over readily.
“I brought some rice and barley with me,” you reply. “I can’t give you much of anything else to show my gratitude, really, unless you’re in need of medicine.” When you don’t receive a reply, you look back up at your host only to find him looking at you almost in a daze. Although his eyes are trained on you, he’s obviously somewhere far away in his mind, drifting, the expression on his face pinched and almost nervous. You stand slowly, cradling your bag of rice in one elbow and reaching for his shoulder with your free hand.
“Younghyun?” He startles, shaking his head as if to clear away the mental fog, and smiles apologetically. It doesn’t reach his eyes, which still seem unsettled, and you frown.
“Sorry. That’s more than enough, thank you. I think I have some things left from my summer foraging, if you’ll excuse me…”
Younghyun brushes past you to go back outside, no doubt to go around to a possible small storehouse or dig up buried goods. Once he’s left, you decide to walk the perimeter of his hut, moving quietly. You don’t yet feel ready to lower your guard, but your inspection yields no real results — Younghyun’s home is nearly empty save for his own blankets and extra clothing which were folded neatly beside the chimney.
Younghyun returns moments later, remaining in the doorway as he excitedly brandishes what he’s found.
“Matsutake?” you inquire, already making your way towards him to inspect the rare mushrooms more closely. You wonder how he managed to find them, difficult as they are to track down, without any sort of help from an animal. As he nods you notice a smudge of dirt across his cheek which distracts you, and you point to your own cheek, unable to keep from smiling as he hurriedly rubs the dirt away.
The two of you make your way outside together, and under the cover of his overhanging roof on the opposite side from the chimney you find an old, soot-covered earthenware pot suspended above the remnants of a fire. Younghyun quickly squats down at its base, starting the fire once again.
“I’ll get the water,” he says, barely glancing at you before circling round to his front door once again and disappearing inside. You carefully take a seat on the ground near the fire, the bag of rice and barley resting in your lap as you warm your hands. The air is much colder up this high, and with the coming rain it seems to seep into your bones even through your clothing, clinging to your skin like a cold sweat. For the first time in days, you allow yourself to relax a bit, feeling warm and, if you’re honest, excited at the prospect of sleeping inside. When you peer past the fire you can see that, despite the rudimentary nature of his house, Younghyun still has an ondol system below the floor. You can already imagine the warmth of it beneath you when you sleep, and it’s a welcome change from the forest floor of the previous night.
Younghyun returns with not only a small, plain earthenware onggi of what you assume is rainwater but also an oil lamp and two small bowls, and you pull the lid off of the agungi for him, already feeling the heat wafting up from within it. He pours the water in and you set the lid aside as you open your bag, pouring two scoops of your rice and barley mixture into the water before Younghyun replaces the lid himself.
For a while the two of you sit in silence, and eventually Younghyun pulls out a small knife and begins cutting up the mushrooms whilst you stare into the fire and listen to the distant rumbles of thunder as the storm creeps ever closer.
Once the food is cooked, both of you fill your plates and Younghyun lights the lantern before leading you inside the hut once again. Almost as soon as you’ve both settled on the old mats he’s laid out for you to sit on you can hear the rain start outside, not heavy but steady and relentless.
Over your shared dinner, neither of you speak much. Younghyun hardly looks up from his food, almost as though he’s forgotten he has a guest, and it gives you much-needed time to truly analyze him. He’s attractive, you’ll admit, but the sharp shape of his eyes makes you nervous. Everybody you’ve ever spoken to has claimed that kumiho are female and lure men in with their appearances, but you feel that you can’t be too careful. In the lowlight offered by the single oil lamp between you he appears even more otherworldly, his features sharp and symmetrical.
It isn’t until he’s finished his food that he finally speaks to you again, though he does so with a contented grin on his face,
“So…”
“Y/N,” you offer, and he smiles.
“Y/N, what brings you this far up the mountain?” Although it’s stated casually, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Something about his asking feels oddly territorial — though you imagine if you were in his shoes you’d also be suspicious — and his smile doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. Even the way he repeats your name makes you feel on edge, though you can’t say for certain why. For a moment you hesitate in answering, taking your time chewing your food, but the rumbling of thunder compels you to say something that will allow you to stay in this shelter.
“I’m looking for a cure for my grandmother,” you say, glancing down into your bowl to pick up another bite. You hope he doesn’t notice you avoiding his gaze, and decide before he can counter you with any more questions to bring up one of your own.
“So, Younghyun,” you start, trying to keep your tone light. While a part of you would love to truly confront him on just how and why he came to be living on this mountain alone as a young man, you don’t want to lose your shelter for the night,
“How long have you lived here?” You glance up at him through your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction as you chew your food. Although he recovers quickly, you still see the momentary slip in his demeanor, his smile fading before he obscures his mouth slightly in thought.
“My parents were woodcutters before me, so I just inherited the business,” he replies, grinning at you and shrugging almost helplessly. “I’ve never known life off the mountain, so I stayed even after they both passed away.”
Immediately you begin wracking your brain — has anyone ever spoken about a family of woodcutters on this mountain? No matter how hard you try, you can’t think of any stories but the kumiho ’s associated with this slope. In fact, you can’t recall ever seeing anyone coming down the mountain with wood, despite how long you’ve lived in the valley. You attempt to shake off the sinking feeling in your chest by telling yourself he and his family must sell to another village on the other side of the slope; it doesn’t feel true even as you think it, but the storm outside has only just begun to rage.
“Are you a healer?” Younghyun asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You lift your head, furrowing your brows.
“How did you know?”
“You mentioned medicines earlier, as payment,” he replies casually. “I assumed you weren’t carrying a variety on you, so you must know how to make them.” You relax slightly at his explanation. In truth, you’d almost forgotten you’d offered the medicines, in part because of his strange reaction at the time. You hadn’t thought he’d noticed or remembered such a thing, but more and more he’s proving his receptiveness. You remind yourself to watch your words as you open your mouth to reply.
“You’re right. My grandmother taught me,” you say. “I don’t know as much about healing as she does, which is why I need to find her a cure before it gets too cold...” Younghyun nods, frowning sympathetically as you drop your gaze into your bowl once again. The thought of Eunji lying small and weak, all alone in your little hut near the woods makes your stomach turn. Any appetite you have leaves you, but you find yourself taking another bite anyways, knowing you’ll be of no use to her without food in your belly.
“I can help you, if you’d like,” Younghyun says softly. Before you can reply, he continues, “I know this mountain better than anyone. I don’t know exactly what you’re looking for, but I can show you the best paths to the peak.”
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you,” you say, watching as Younghyun scrapes the last of his food together and eats it with a smile.
“It’s no trouble,” he assures you, “I can’t fell trees for a few days after a storm like this, in any case.” His explanation makes perfect sense to you, and so you find yourself nodding, accepting his help.
“Of course. Then I suppose I’m even further in your debt, Younghyun.” The man across the table from you laughs, and the sound eases your nerves slightly, bringing a smile to your own face.
“Sad as this may sound, you just gave me the best meal I’ve had in a long time. Consider any debts paid.” For a moment, you simply hold one another’s gaze, analyzing each other, until eventually you make the decision to put an end to the strange interaction.
“Well, we should probably get some rest. Long day tomorrow.”
“You’re right,” Younghyun says, nodding. His gaze drifts past you towards the door, and he narrows his eyes. “I think the storm should pass by morning. We can get an early start, if you’d like.”
“Sounds perfect. Thank you again, Younghyun,” you say, bowing your head. The young man only shakes his head, smiling.
“Think nothing of it,” he says. The two of you rise from your seats, and Younghyun moves the lantern between your sets of bedding as you both get settled. Once you’ve both slipped beneath your blankets, Younghyun blows out the lantern, plunging you both into darkness.
“Goodnight,” you say, eyes already slipping close. You can hear Younghyun shift in his bedding across the room from you before replying in a low voice,
“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well.”
You open your eyes to near darkness, the light filtering into the room grainy and gray. When you roll onto your side, you don’t see Younghyun where he had fallen asleep the night before, only his blankets in disarray on the floor. An icy cold panic stabs through your chest and you sit up, realizing the moment your hand touches the floor that the warmth you feel isn’t coming from the fire outside — it’s wet, and as you draw your hand up the dark liquid follows like a shadow.
You recognize the smell. Iron, salt — it can’t be anything but blood. Despite the many times you’ve smelled it in your days as a healer, you suddenly feel sick to your stomach as you realize the floor is covered in it. It reflects the pale light and makes you dizzy as you sit up, trying to take deep calming breaths but feeling the moisture in the air clog your throat. The scent of the blood is too heavy, and you know you have to get out before it’s too late. Your blanket slides on the blood beneath your feet and you fall, the blood soaking any cloth it comes into contact with. You squeeze your eyes shut as you peel your cheek off the floor, mouth pressed into a thin line to keep from gagging.
A growl, too low to be human, shakes the floorboards beneath you, and as you lift yourself up onto your hands and knees you can feel the eyes on you once more—
A white fox sits at the door, nine tails swishing in unison. Its fur seems to glow, and in the new light you can see the blood just barely drying on the fur of its face. It opens its mouth and lets out a sound almost like a cruel laugh, its burning eyes pinning you in place as it lowers itself to the floor. You can see the fur bristling as the muscles tense in preparation of lunging, and you suddenly realize the protective charm is no longer on you. With one last shuddering breath, you close your eyes to the sound of the fox’s claws scraping the floor and its inhuman growl—
“Y/N?”
It’s Younghyun’s eyes that meet yours, dark but unmistakably human. Your breath comes in short gasps, and he sits back, eyeing you nervously as you try to calm yourself down. After a moment you manage to sit up, swallowing hard and finding your throat terribly dry. Seemingly noticing this, Younghyun scrambles to his feet, returning to your side with an earthen vessel half-filled with water. You try not to drink too quickly, but the moment the water reaches your throat you find it difficult to keep from gulping all of it down at once. The young man waits patiently for you to finish, sitting beside your bedding and watching you with concern in his sharp eyes. When you set the water down, he finally speaks up,
“Are you alright?” You look at him, clutching your bedding to keep him from seeing the trembling in your hands. As you usually do in times of panic, you focus on the weight of Eunji’s charm still tucked into your sleeve. Looking at Younghyun, you can’t find any reason to doubt his concern for you — either he’s an incredible liar, or you’re too naive, but you choose to trust him anyways.
“Yes,” you sigh, finally, passing a hand through your hair to get it away from your face. “Yes, just a bad dream.” Younghyun nods in sympathetic understanding before rising up from his seat on the floor. He clears his throat before speaking again.
“I’ve cooked up some root vegetables for us with your rice. I hope you don’t mind.” You shake your head, pulling yourself out of your bedding.
“Not at all. Thank you for making breakfast.”
While you roll your blanket back up and replace your outerwear, Younghyun goes, you assume, to put out the fire and bring in your breakfast. The two of you eat in silence, and outside you can hear the birds beginning to chirp as the sun rises over the horizon, casting a golden glow through the open doorway. Younghyun rinses off your bowls and chopsticks before slinging his own small pack across his back and locking up his house.
“The peak is only a day or so’s journey from here. With the ground being so wet it may take us a bit longer,” he explains, leading you through the woods. From time to time he reminds you to watch your step, or holds branches out of the way for you. As you trail behind him you can’t help but notice the lightness of his footfalls, the way he seems to cause almost no damage to any of the brush underfoot. You feel far from graceful as you follow his footsteps, crushing leaves and twigs with nearly every step.
Your only conversation occurs close to midday, when the both of you pause to catch your breath and drink water.
“How far up do you think these ingredients will be?” Younghyun asks, and you bite down on your lip, weighing your options. You cast a glance at Younghyun and let out a sigh, deciding to be honest with him. After all, you feel as though it’s the least you can do after all the help he’s offered you.
“I don’t know,” you say softly. Younghyun crouches down beside you on the ground, knees nearly brushing, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “The truth is, I don’t know what I’m looking for. My whole village is being overrun by an illness, and even my grandmother doesn’t know how to cure it—” you pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to try and still the warble in your voice. You close your eyes to fend off the sudden tears you feel welling up,
“— I'm actually looking for the kumiho .” Both you and Younghyun sit in silence for a moment after your statement. Saying it aloud makes it feel far more real than it had before, and an icy stab of fear pierces your heart.You find yourself continuing in desperation, still fending off tears, “I need the yeowoo guseul , because I don’t have the knowledge to save my people, a-and there’s nothing more I can do until I get it.” Younghyun remains still for a moment, then shifts his weight slightly. You can feel his gaze on you as intensely as ever, but you keep your eyes on the ground, trying to will your emotions away.
“How do you know the kumiho won’t just kill you?” he asks, voice gentle. You bark out a laugh, which sounds almost like a sob.
“I don’t,” you say, finally turning to your companion. “I’m just hoping.” Younghyun’s gaze softens, and he rests a hand on your shoulder as you swipe at your eyes with the ends of your sleeves. Once you’ve pulled yourself together somewhat, he stands up and offers you a hand. You take it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Without another word, he continue taking you up to the summit.
It’s early afternoon when the clouds begin to roll in again, although you don’t notice them immediately due to the shade already provided by the pines. It’s Younghyun that stops in his tracks, holding out an arm to signal you to a halt as well. You stand behind him, watching him with a mixture of confusion and nervousness as he signals for you to wait and disappears through the trees towards the edge of a cliff. Your heart pounds, leaping into your throat as you wait for him, and you cross your arms across your chest, subtly clutching the protective charm as you shift your weight from one foot to another. A sudden breeze weaves through the trees and sends shivers down your spine, and when you exhale you can see your breath.
No sooner do you realize that than Younghyun is coming back towards you at a quickened pace, face etched with panic,
“We have to find shelter.” You stare at him, dumbfounded, hardly realizing what he’s said until he’s taken hold of your arm and begun pulling you further into the woods.
“W-what? Younghyun, what’s wrong?” you finally manage to ask, picking up the pace so you’re no longer stumbling behind him in his determined stride.
“Snowstorm,” he says. “I didn’t see any sign of it this morning, but it’s coming fast.” He glances back at you over his shoulder, brows furrowed. “I’m so sorry.” You don’t have time to dwell on his apology as he takes a sharp turn and you struggle to follow him, even as he slows at times to pick up pieces of wood he finds along the way. Eventually, you make it to a small cave, really little more than a rock awning over a patch of ground, and Younghyun drops his small pile of wood.
“Start a fire,” he says. “Hurry.” With that he disappears into the trees once again, leaving you fumbling with your shaking hands. You do, thankfully, manage to start a fire — though you struggle to protect it from the bone-chilling wind that seems to be picking up by the second. You unroll your blanket from your pack and drape it over your shoulders, warming your hands as you watch anxiously for Younghyun’s return.
There are snowflakes in his hair when he emerges from between the trees, and his expression is so filled with fear you can’t help but feel nervous.
“It’s bad,” you say, more a statement than the question you had intended. Younghyun nods grimly, tucking the excess firewood behind you to keep it dry. He pulls his own blanket off his pack and places it atop your own, and you turn to him in confusion.
“Younghyun—”
“I don’t need it,” he interrupts. When you continue to hold his gaze with your confused, concerned expression, he continues, “Trust me. I’ll be fine.” You decide that really, you have no choice but to trust him, and so you nod slowly, inching closer to him in an attempt to share your warmth. The wind howls through the trees, and you can see the storm clouds drawing ever closer to the two of you. Despite the two blankets atop your shoulders, you begin to shiver, and Younghyun takes notice.
“Y/N,” he says, slowly, as if you’re a wild animal he’s afraid to approach. You sit up and meet his serious gaze. “Do you trust me?” You feel your heart skip a beat and accelerate, but you nod nonetheless.
“This storm, it could kill you. But I think I have a solution.” You find yourself more confused and frightened with each word that falls from his lips, but you keep your gaze steady, waiting for him to finish.
“I’m going to change forms. Don’t be afraid,” he implores, and you can see the fear in his eyes as he stares into yours. You breathe in sharply, and all you can manage to say in your panic is,
“You?” He nods slowly, still holding your gaze.
“Just, please,” he says, his expression almost sad. “I want to help you.” You nod, dumbfounded, still shivering as he stands up and walks out from beneath your shelter into the snow.
Although you see it happen, you hardly believe it. There’s a flash of light that disperses quickly into a thick fog, and you close your eyes at the suddenness of it. When you open them again, you’re met with the sight of a brilliant white fox, it’s nine tails moving in unison like a fan behind its head. Its eyes glow a brilliant gold, and despite your fear you manage to speak.
“Younghyun…?” The fox dips its head in response, and you find yourself reaching out towards the animal. Slowly, it advances towards you, taking halting steps as though it’s trying not to startle you. Eventually, the kumiho makes its way back under the cover of the rock, resting its muzzle in your outstretched palm. You let out a laugh of disbelief, and the fox spirit huffs slightly as you reach your hands up to scratch behind its ears.
When you withdraw your hand, Younghyun, the kumiho, makes his way back into the spot he had occupied in a human form only moments before, sitting down beside you and draping his nine tails over your lap and behind you, surrounding you in warmth. The glow of the fire makes his fur shine a pale yellow, and once you’ve adjusted the tails to be more comfortable you begin to pet the kumiho once again, scarcely able to believe it’s real even as you feel the fur beneath your fingers.
Before the storm worsens, you make a portion of rice and barley for yourself and Younghyun, who bows his head towards you once more as if in gratitude. Once the food is eaten and the bowls are set aside, Younghyun curls up as if to sleep. You watch as he indicates with his nose towards his back, and you slowly move around behind him, lying down and holding him as though he were a toy and not a supposedly vicious forest spirit. Watching the snow falling in a thick curtain beyond the fire still burning, you fall asleep to the rhythm of Younghyun’s breathing.
You awake in the morning to birdsong and warmth. When you open your eyes, you find Younghyun’s very human arms around you instead of the nine tails, but the strands of white fur that remain on your blankets and clothing assures you what you saw the previous evening was no dream. Slowly and gently you extricate yourself from Younghyun’s embrace, which was loose in any case, and sit up to look at the damage the storm had left behind.
You’re awestruck by the sheer amount of snow left behind, though the rising sun appears to already be melting some of the ice off of the trees as you can see it dripping. You notice the fire burning feebly and climb over Younghyun’s sleeping form to revive it, dragging some of the wood from the back of the cave. As you get it back to its former roaring, you grab the bowls and your bag of rice and barley once again, preparing breakfast whilst Younghyun continues to sleep.
Your shock over the previous night’s events slowly fades, and you’re surprised to find that you feel no fear in the aftermath. Then again, you suppose that if Younghyun had wanted to devour you, he easily could have the night before — instead, despite any tales you had heard that would contradict it, he had been unbelievably gentle with you. Rather than taking your life, he had saved it.
Now you only had to wonder whether he would willingly give up the yeowoo guseul to you. You cast a glance at his sleeping form and felt a stab of sympathy for him. To even be a kumiho he had to have lived a thousand years, and you couldn’t help but imagine how lonely his existence may have been for a large portion of that time. And considering all the legends about the kumiho you had heard were generations old at best, you imagined the answer to that would be very.
Although you had already been convinced that Younghyun was good, you still couldn’t be sure if he would give up the pearl of knowledge he held within him. From what you understood, if you managed to absorb it, he would become a human and age once more — in essence, he would have to give up his immortality to save your village. Previously you had thought you would have to fight a monster to retrieve the knowledge you sought, but watching Younghyun sleep you found that you couldn’t bring yourself to even consider hurting him. If he said no to giving you the yeowoo guseul , you wouldn’t be willing or able to force him.
You shook your head to clear it of those thoughts, turning your attention back to your meager breakfast. At the very least you had no doubt Younghyun would guide you safely back down the mountain, so you weren’t too concerned about extreme rationing any longer.
He awoke before you finished, sitting up and stretching with a sigh. Neither of you said a word as he sat up beside you, looking out over the snow covered stretch of forest. The two of you eat your breakfast in silence, sitting side by side with your shoulders touching. Once Younghyun has taken his last bite he speaks up,
“You can have it.” You nearly choke on your food, dissolving into coughs. Younghyun gently pats your back as you struggle to recover, eventually gasping out your reaction.
“What?” As you look at Younghyun he appears completely calm, shrugging slightly as he replies.
“There's really no joy in the life I'm living. I made this decision when I was young and foolish, thinking immortality would be fulfilling, but now… now, I just want to live a normal life. So, you can have the yeowoo guseul. You'll do more good with the knowledge than I ever have.” He even smiles at you, and although it appears sincere you can’t help but be absolutely baffled by how casually he drops this information.
“Are you sure?” you ask, and he nods resolutely. The information slowly sinks in, and as it does you can feel your face begin to warm. “So, then…”
“Yes,” he laughs, looking far too amused by your embarrassment. “You’ll have to kiss me.”
“Right…”
“You’ll be fine,” he says. “You trust me, right?” You nod. With that, Younghyun stands up, reaching his hand down for you to take. Just like you had the day before, you accept his help, though this time he doesn’t let go, keeping you close to him.
He hesitates for a moment as though offering you an out, and so you’re the one who finally leans in and presses your lips to his. At first, it feels completely normal, and Younghyun reaches up to cup your jaw with one hand as the other wraps around your waist. He adjusts the angle of the kiss and you feel a shiver run down your spine as his tongue gently parts your lips.
Almost immediately you feel the yeowoo guseul pass between your teeth, small and cold, terribly cold. Suddenly afraid, you press it to the roof of your mouth with your tongue, squeezing your eyes shut tighter as Younghyun's lips part from yours.
"It's alright," he whispers. "You have to swallow it. It's alright."
You think of Eunji, your village, the man before you — and you try. You really, truly do.
But the moment it reaches the back of your throat it suddenly burns like no alcohol ever has, and you begin coughing, doubling over—
With the arm around your waist Younghyun turns you, pressing your back to his chest to keep you upright, and with the other he tilts your head back. He holds your mouth shut, all the while murmuring reassurances in your ear, reminding you of all the reasons you’re doing this. After a long moment you finally manage to swallow the bead, and you feel it burn down your chest, leaving you gasping for air, tears streaming from your tightly shut eyes. Younghyun rights you, turning you to face him, brushing hair away from your now-sweaty forehead.
As you open your eyes, you find nothing but white before you. Your knees give way and you reach out desperately, clawing at Younghyun's shirt even though his hands remain on you,
"My eyes!" you scream, but the trees seem to swallow your voice. "Younghyun, my eyes—!"
"Look up at the sky, Y/N, you'll be fine. Look at the sky." His voice is unwavering, the never ending calm of freshly fallen snow, and as you lift your head up you begin to see ripples within your vision.
The clouds, filled with your village’s first snowfall of the winter, suddenly appear above you.
"It's going to snow again," you say. The trembling in your voice ceases the longer you stare. "Not this week, but the next. It will be as high as my knees, and— and..." As you speak, you seem to blink the clouds away, revealing once more the morning sky you had seen before Younghyun's kiss.
When you look back to Younghyun, you no longer find a young man, but a face carved with wrinkles around the eyes and mouth. With shaking hands you reach up to touch him,
"You're old." He only stares at you, mystified. "You're going to grow old."
He smiles, breathes out a laugh, and as he does your vision restores his youth to him. You let your hands fall to his shoulders. The pure joy on his face has you entranced, and you almost want to kiss him again, overwhelmed and elated.
Then behind him, you see a glimmer. Like a golden thread which seems to weave away into the trees. You peer over his shoulder, past him, and he lowers his voice,
"Do you see what you need?" Your reply is scarcely more than a sigh,
"Yes." Your voice cracks as you break into a wide grin, laughing as you repeat your answer more confidently, “Yes!”
You take Younghyun’s warm hand in yours and set out into the snow, ignoring the cold as you follow the shimmering trail. It leads you to a small clearing nearly devoid of snow, almost a perfect circle amidst the trees within which grows a plant with leaves glowing gold. Once you drop to your knees beside it, however, it ceases glowing, becoming its normal deep green color.
“That’s it?” Younghyun asks excitedly, standing behind you. You nod, at a loss for words, and he comes to kneel beside you. There’s more than one of the plants, and so after gathering yourself you instruct Younghyun to pluck as many of them as he can, meanwhile you begin digging into the half-frozen soil, ignoring the cold and the pain as you try to reach the plant’s roots. Although it’s used to a mountain climate, you have no doubt Eunji will find a way to grow it closer to your home once she’s well again.
Carefully, you cradle the roots of the plant in your cupped hands, mud and dirt caking your palms and stuck beneath the half-moons of your nails. Younghyun returns with his shirt partially hiked up like a pouch, filled with the leaves that you need. He looks at the small plant in your hands in wonder.
“Incredible,” he says. When you glance up you find his gaze on you, and he breaks into a somewhat sheepish grin, clearing his throat.
“We should get you back to your village.”
“What about you?” you ask almost immediately. Younghyun’s expression falls slightly, and he blinks at you.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “I could leave the mountain, but I don’t know what I’d do.” Without another thought you find yourself using one of your hands to grasp one of his, holding his gaze earnestly.
“You could come with me.” Younghyun appears almost shell-shocked, and you quickly elaborate on your statement, “Eunji and I could always use extra help, and you’re stronger than either of us. You wouldn’t have to stay forever, of course, but at least until you decide what you want to do…” You trail off uncertainly, withdrawing your hand from his after a moment, feeling embarrassed by the zeal with which you’d made your offer.
Despite that, though, Younghyun’s response is in the affirmative,
“Alright.” You look up in surprise and find Younghyun smiling. “I don’t know what my future holds but… I think I’d like to take that first step with you by my side.” At his response you can’t help but smile back at him.
“I think I’d like that, too.”
And so the two of you pack your belongings and begin the long trek down the mountain, leaving the legend of the kumiho to wither away behind you like the small hut sitting alone and empty amidst the trees, little more than a memory.