Chapter Text
He was free.
The sun seared his eyes, forcing him to squint just to see, and he was free. The wind curved around him, biting at the wounds on his face that would heal in a few days’ time, and he was free. Birds, white and gray in color, flew past him, not bothered by the human sharing the skies with them, and he was free.
He was free.
He was free.
And Garou was dead.
Jae-ha made his landing through the treetops. Branches snapped and scratched at him, but it was nothing in comparison to what he had known for all twelve years of his life. His pant leg, however, did catch, and he was crudely thrown to the ground. Yeah. He would have to work on that landing. Sitting up on the forest floor, he took the moment to breathe. He was free. Surely, nobody could be following him anymore. Surely, they were distracted enough by Garou’s body—
No. Don’t think about that.
“Should stay low for a while, I guess,” Jae-ha muttered to himself. He wiped sweat from his brow and tried to ignore the way the cut on his bottom lip screamed with every hurried inhale and quick exhale. It would heal in a few days. He would be fine in a few days.
(And Garou would be ashes by morning.)
His dragon foot throbbed, urging to be used, desperate for the world only it could reach. Jae-ha threw his shoe off with a slight kick, revealing his monstrous appendage to whatever forest spirits might be watching. It was almost fascinating, how well the green scales of his foot matched the grass below him and the leaves above him. It was as if his entire being, cursed as it was by the dragon blood, was made to be grounded. Like the chains still stuck to his wrists were made not as punishment, but as a reminder.
Hah! Who was he kidding? The green dragon warrior was made for the skies. He was made to reach farther than any human could. That, at least, Jae-ha could gladly do. Destiny be damned, but he could most certainly use his dragon’s power to its fullest. He would fly high, farther and faster than any pursuer. He would know the clouds, be their lover and most trusted confidant. He would reach the places not even attainable to Garou (who had looked so damn happy to give Jae-ha everything he had ever wanted).
Damn it. He needed to stop thinking about him. Misery and guilt would take him nowhere. Jae-ha had to live the life he wanted. There was no use in looking back.
Jae-ha tossed off his other shoe and stood up. The grass beneath his feet tickled, like how he imagined a mother’s delicate fingers might feel against his skin. A small bug—an ant, probably?—crawled up his human foot, thin antennas twitching as it inspected his little toe. He lifted his leg to bring the ant to closer inspection, but when he reached out a finger to pick it up, the insect scurried away, leaving a red mark on his toe. Ah, that made sense. Garou had always said that animals were more afraid of humans than humans were of animals.
Jae-ha placed his foot back on the ground and, using his hand, led the ant back into the grass. It would be bad if he accidentally kicked it off while he walked. Surely, such a small body couldn’t handle much. He picked up his shoes, allowing them to dangle from his hand, and moved on forward, through clusters of trees and over mounds of things he had never seen nor heard of before. There was pain in his cheek, swollen with its many bruises, and when he inspected it with his fingers, he realized there was a smile on his lips. Heh. Freedom was truly beautiful. He thought he must look like an idiot, walking through the forest, grinning, covered in blacks and blues and reds.
But freedom was wonderful. It was so wonderful.
His stomach was rumbling. His throat was rebelling, and he had not a drop of spit left to quench it. The sun was rising, dusting pinks and oranges into the dreary blue sky. His human foot ached while his dragon foot wailed. The birds, whiter than he thought possible, dared to run into him more times than he could bother to count. Freedom was surprisingly agonizing. But he had to move on. He had to move on.
Perhaps he should have tried harder to kill those fat animals—boars, probably, but he had only ever seen them before in his imagination, given to him by Garou’s half-assed descriptions. They had weirdly pointed noses and some fur, though, so they were most likely boars. Either way, Jae-ha should have chased them for much longer than he actually did. He also shouldn’t have spared those rabbits, with their stupidly big eyes and cute faces. They were easy food, unable to escape from someone who could attack from above. But, alas, he had watched them hop away when he had decided to not crush their skulls in with the chains on his wrists.
Freedom was certainly difficult.
Yet another bird flew into him, so Jae-ha made another terrible landing. His feet stumbled, barely able to carry him any longer, and he fell to his side in no time at all. It was official, he hated birds. Bunch of blind bastards. Were they trying to pick a fight with him? It certainly wasn’t fair if they were! He didn’t have wings to keep him aloft like they did, so the chances were definitely weighed against him. Jerks.
Jae-ha rolled onto his back. The sky above him was cloudless, taunting him with its beauty. The ground below him was rough, covered in grass but underlain by rocks. The air was a bit thinner than usual, but it smelled hot and… salty? Maybe? It was peculiar. But it was nice, in a fascinatingly new sort of way. Hopefully, he was near some place, a town or a village, where he could steal food and water. It had only been a day since he had escaped, but he would like to sleep somewhere that wasn’t the ground, as well. In the books he had read in Ryokuryuu village, he had learned from those crinkled, ages-old pages that wherever there was food and people, there was an inn for travelers. He could sneak into one of those, probably.
Before he could do all that, though, he needed to rest. He closed his eyes to the rising sun, to the singing birds and the whispering wind, and he dreamed of nothing but the tear-streaked face of a man. If he actually slept, Jae-ha wasn’t sure, but when he forced his sluggish eyelids open again, there were pieces of meat and balls of rice proudly presented on a large leaf beside him and a water sack rested on his stomach.
Was this a hallucination? Probably. Did he care? Not in the slightest.
Without a second to waste, he stuffed the rice in his mouth, rushing after it several happy swigs of water. The meat he tore to pieces with his sharp teeth, barely taking a moment to appreciate its rich taste. He finished it all before the last streaks of the orange, dawn sky could fade away into the blue morning. Perhaps he should have saved some, especially the water, but he didn’t care. With this, he could fly! He could keep going and find some place, or something, to keep him alive. All he had to do was jump.
His stomach gurgled a song. Chuckling to himself, he stood up, dropping the sack and the leaf. He turned to the upward slope of the mountain he had presumably landed on, and prepared to fly. Freedom was great, no matter how arduous.
Before his foot could dare to leave the ground, though, his consciousness twitched. Yellow. Warm and welcoming, it reached to him, enveloping him like how the sun gobbled the moon. It was strangely familiar, like a dream that had burned its fragments into his memory, yet distant, like the soul of someone loved and gone. It called to him. It loved him. It was like Garou’s Green glow, but it was so intrinsically different. It was its own being, but it was attached to Jae-ha the same way he had been to Garou. Someone, or something, was nearby. Jae-ha took a step towards the Yellow glow. It disappeared, as ghostly as it had appeared.
His heart stilled itself, taking several shaky breaths before it could beat again. His mind was certainly playing tricks on him. As if anything, or anyone, could want him the way the Yellow glow did. He was a monster, after all. He looked down at the leaf and the water sack, and decided they had definitely been illusions, as well. Even with his throat quenched and his stomach full, they could not be real.
He returned his attention to the high mountain slope. Taking a deep breath, he jumped away, returning himself to the morning blue sky. This was where he belonged. Not with a ghostly Yellow glow, nor with hallucinations of kindness. He ignored the chill on his back, as though he had just left behind something terribly important, and he continued to fly. He knocked down a few birds on his way, as well, just for the fun of it. Served them right!
Below him, the mountain soon turned into rooftops. A city! It was lined so nicely with streets and houses, much like the books had described. The people were few, as were the animals, but he could hear the trickles of early morning conversation. He couldn’t hear the words, of course, but vocals and mumbles drifted on the wind, tickling his ears with joy. Jae-ha glided down to the ground, but was quick to jump again. His eyes needed to feast on so much more! An inn, food, water—it could all wait for the view of a city, spectacular in its very existence. He jumped on and over rooftops, watching every gravel street and each tired person. They were amazing. It was all beautiful. The air was warm and (maybe) salty and something a little putrid, but it tasted so wonderfully on his tongue he couldn’t help but laugh. He was free! He was free! It was indescribable, this marvelous freedom.
He was free!
And the city was ocean.
Before he could process that he had flown too far, that the city had given way to the harbor, he was falling with nowhere to land. There was a ship floating on the water, but all he could do was reach for it, hopelessly, as he sunk without legs that knew how to swim. Salt and something putrid flooded his mouth, his nostrils, his ears, his eyes, clutching his lungs and dragging his clothes. He flailed his arms and his legs, hoping to find a way. But the water was merciless, and his body needed air, and he was already too far away to be seen or heard (or cared for). Sunlight filtered through the water, and somehow it was worse than Garou wringing his neck with hands that had broken so many bones. It was worse than a mother’s desperate cry or a father’s angry stare. It was the end. Clouds of bubbles escaped him, his lungs screeching with despair, but his legs couldn’t kick him up, useless as they were in the water. He couldn’t reach the sunlight.
He should have known. Freedom did not come so easy to monsters. All the dragon warriors had to die, sooner or later.
The last thing Jae-ha saw was the water shifting into bubbles and ripples as someone, or something, splashed in after him. The last thing Jae-ha felt were arms, strong and warm, wrapped around him.