Work Text:
Shopping for his new apartment shouldn’t be as daunting as Renjun thinks it is.
He’s grateful that he’s renting out the place, because Renjun doesn’t know what he would have done if he had to add furniture to his ever-growing list of living supplies too. Nevertheless, it’s still a bit intimidating stepping out into the world for the first time and abandoning his long list of items in favor of letting nerves and impulse get the best of him. So far, Renjun has only gotten himself a new shelf, a collection of ceramic cat mugs from a nearby pottery shop, and none of what he actually needs. He is quite satisfied with his purchases, though, and hopes that the custom-made shelf is actually to his liking and will hold under the command strips he brought with him.
Renjun just needs a plant for his new place to make it feel liveable, he’s decided. The apartment is dull, dreary, and in dire need of a splash of color to liven up the interior. According to his phone’s map, there’s a store that sells succulents and houseplants just three blocks from where he’s currently situated outside the pottery shop. Though it might be a long walk to his new apartment later, Renjun decides to make the trek, knowing it will more than likely be worth it, and that he’ll be walking out with something that'll bring at least some life to his apartment.
While he walks, Renjun plugs his AirPods in and sticks his hands in his pockets, hoping that the GPS will properly guide him when needed. It’s a pretty straightforward walk, but Renjun can’t help but feel nervous nonetheless—the streets of Seoul are completely different from what he’s used to, and the unfamiliarity of his current location sends a crawling feeling of anxiety up his spine. It doesn’t matter how many articles he reads about living in Seoul—nothing will properly prepare him for the reality he’s currently facing. He’s in a completely unfamiliar place, where he knows no one, and he will have to start anew and build connections in a completely new country.
Renjun sighs—he refuses to think about the crushing reality of his damning situation. He hasn’t even thought about applying to jobs, much less looking around at possible art schools to pursue an education. A plant will be the perfect thing to keep his mind off of things—and it will likely help him stay sane in the midst of unfamiliarity too. Having a plant means having a routine to take care of that plant, however simple the care may be. Routine means a way to keep himself motivated. Routine means a glimpse into happiness and clarity.
🪴
The plant shop is small and quaint.
The smell of soil and nature overwhelms Renjun’s senses when he walks through the entrance, the door propped open by one of the heavier pots, a cheerful bonsai settled within the ceramic piece.
There are plants everywhere—plants on the shelves, bonsai on the ground, succulents and flowers on the table. The air is fresh, rich from the amount of nature inside the store. There is only one other person inside the store—an elderly woman, who is busying herself with watering the plants near the counter and register. She nods and bows in Renjun’s direction when he enters, but otherwise keeps to herself at the corner.
Renjun turns his attention to the plants in front of him. There’s quite a wide selection, and below each plant is a little name card labeling the name of the plant and how to care for it, which will likely help Renjun with his decision. He doesn’t want to get a plant and accidentally murder it because he couldn’t care for it properly. Renjun doesn’t want to kill the one thing that is meant to give life and color to his apartment.
On one of the stools sits a monstera plant, whose leaves stretch to around Renjun’s eye level. From a glance at the card below, Renjun can see that the care instructions are quite simple. He reaches out to gently touch one of the leaves and it’s almost as though it’s alive, embracing Renjun’s touch warmly. He makes a note of the plant in his head as he ventures deeper into the store, wanting to get a good look at all of his options before deciding on a single plant.
After looking at a large collection of succulents gathered on one of the smaller tables, Renjun makes his way over to the vibrantly colored flowers, all resting in beautiful ceramic pots on a large table close to the register. The elderly woman running the shop is currently watering a pot of begonias atop the table, humming a quiet tune to herself.
Renjun scans the table, seeing if anything at face level will catch his eye. A rainbow of floral arrangements pops out to him, and there are so many flowers placed on the table that Renjun isn’t sure how this many plants can fit on one single table. Renjun wonders if other employees help the woman next to him run the store. Watering what seems to be hundreds of plants simply cannot be possible all alone, especially with the meticulous care that she puts into each pot—care of that caliber must take hours.
“You know, I think that one of my lovely orchids over there likes you.”
Renjun jumps when he hears the woman speaking suddenly behind him, turning to look at her. She’s put her watering can down on the table and now stares fondly at the collection of orchids gathered on the edge of the table. One of the orchids is separated from the rest, and placed on a stool that is slightly shorter than the table, yet still sits prettily.
“Oh, um… What makes you think that, ma’am?” Renjun is quiet, not having talked much at all since moving into Seoul. He doesn’t know if it’s the nerves of being in an entirely new country that weighs his shoulders down or simply his aversion to social interaction, but the idea of talking to people makes his chest feel like it’s on fire.
“They all became so much brighter when you walked over here. You must be a good man!” The elderly woman laughs with glee and gently reaches over to pat Renjun’s arm. “You must be new to Seoul. Are you looking to take a plant home?”
Renjun blinks, shocked that the woman was able to deduce that from just some small talk. “Yes… Er, how did you know?”
“When you spend this much time around a bunch of gossiping little plants, it’s hard not to become intuitive to other humans.” The woman smiles, bowing her head slightly as she brushes a strand of stray grey hair away from her face. “But enough about me. Have any plants caught your eye yet, dear?”
Renjun nods, scanning the store for the plants that had called out to him. “I liked the monstera plant, but I’m not sure if I have the supplies to take care of one, so I was thinking of just taking home one of the succulents. They all look very sweet.” Renjun glances at the succulents and then looks back over at the collection of orchids placed on the table. The orchid on the stool catches his eye once again—the gentle pink of its petals pleasing to Renjun’s eyes as he rests his gaze upon it once again.
“The monstera plant is very lovely. You have a good eye… But I truly think that this orchid is just calling your name! Just look at how it stands so straight.” The elderly woman makes her way back over to the stool and gives it a gentle pat. Renjun takes a look at the care instructions on the little cardstock that every plant has—orchids require a weekly feed that is sold by the store, along with warmer temperatures and the necessary water and sunlight. It’s doable, but Renjun only has so much money with him, and he doesn’t exactly have the means to spend extra for an orchid-specific plant feed.
“How much will the orchid and the plant feed cost altogether?” Renjun now feels just a bit compelled to buy the orchid. Not because the woman is so insistent on it, but because the orchid only gets more and more radiant the longer he stares at it. That sort of thing isn’t possible, Renjun thinks to himself. Plants can’t move that fast—and the orchid isn’t stretching out its leaves invitingly or anything. But something compels Renjun. It’s a strange feeling, one that tingles at the back of his head as he walks over to the plant, watching as the elderly woman pauses in thought.“How about this? If you get this dear orchid and promise to take excellent care in nurturing and loving it, I’ll make sure you have all the necessary supplies to take care of it. How does ten thousand won sound to you?” The elderly woman’s eyes twinkle as she looks up at Renjun with knowing eyes. Ten thousand won is definitely less than he was expecting.
“I’ll take it,” Renjun replies cheerfully.
🪴
Renjun walks out of the plant shop with the lovely pink orchid tucked under his right arm, carrying the homemade orchid feed with his left. His tote bag full of cat-shaped ceramic mugs weighs heavily on his shoulder, and there is no way his wallet is liking how much he’d spent today on mundane items, but Renjun is happy. For the first time since Renjun had set foot in Seoul, he isn’t anxious. He’s just… happy.
The walk back to his apartment flies by surprisingly quick, considering the amount of stuff he was carrying. He piles himself onto the apartment’s elevator and takes it up to where his studio apartment is located on the seventh floor, setting the bag of plant feed down with a sigh. He fishes around for his key inside his jacket pocket, eventually finding it and keeping it firmly grasped between his index finger and thumb as he makes his way down the hall. He unlocks the door and slides inside, setting the box of plant feed against the wall and jogging over to the kitchen counter to place his new orchid down.
“Made it,” Renjun huffs with a sigh. His arms ache; the result of having to carry so many things inside his apartment. He sets his tote bag down next to the orchid and pulls out the well-wrapped ceramic cat mugs. He’d gotten three in total—one matching set, then one black mug with a cat’s face painted onto it in white. Inside the black mug is a smaller black cat protruding out of the bottom of the mug, meant to pop out of whatever liquid was poured inside. It’s cute, and Renjun really couldn’t resist immediately buying the mug as soon as he laid eyes on it.
The two matching mugs are both blue, the left one having a white cat and the right one having a black cat. When put together side by side their muzzles meet, appearing as if the two cats are nuzzling each other while laying down. Another purchase that Renjun doesn’t plan to regret.
As he’s placing the mugs inside one of his nearly-bare kitchen cabinets, he notes how bare the kitchen and living room look combined. Renjun has never been an expert in interior design—he has no idea how to make the house feel more lively, but he supposes that buying the orchid was a good place to start. He turns his attention back to the plant—its petals are a splash of color in the monochrome backdrop of his apartment, a refreshing contrast to everything else he’s seen since moving to Seoul.
“Looks like it’ll just be you and me for a while,” Renjun says to the orchid with a small smile. He feels a bit odd talking to a plant alone in his room, but somehow, speaking to the plant feels natural. It just feels right—like the orchid itself is pulling the words out of him. He moves the surprisingly large bag of orchid fertilizer just below the only window in his apartment and takes a look at the bright green note card stapled to the plant mix. Under the printed care instructions is a handwritten note from the plant shop’s owner.
‘With lots of love and time, your lovely orchid will bloom into a beautiful, gorgeous flower. I wish you the best of luck, and feel free to visit us again whenever you need help or need to restock.’
The note is accompanied by a couple of shaky plant doodles, a little sprout with a smiley face, and a single heart-shaped plant drawn next to her words. Renjun smiles, mystified by the woman’s curious personality. He wonders if she can actually talk to plants, or if she believes that love will nurture the plant as it grows. But he figures it’s something he can hold onto amidst this anxiety-filled transition period of his. Maybe that was it—the woman knew he was new to the area and simply wrote the note to help him feel better and a little less nervous about living in the big city.
Renjun relocates the orchid to his nightstand directly next to the window of his apartment, gently placing the pot down on the small space and positioning it on the edge so that it can get all the sunlight it needs. He’ll likely need to get a small table just for the orchid—there’s no way he’s going to risk putting his orchid on the same table that he has his phone on, especially knowing the way he blindly lunges around for his phone in the morning.
“Just wait, I’m going to have a nice setup just for you,” Renjun muses quietly, looking at the plant. “No matter how poor I am, I’m gonna make sure you grow well, even in this tiny apartment.”
And so, with new determination, Renjun heads to the kitchen to begin his new life with his new plant.
🪴
It’s been a couple of weeks since Renjun moved into his new apartment in Seoul—but even so, stepping outside still feels as daunting as when he first moved in. The neighbors have all greeted him with kind smiles, and Renjun does his best to reciprocate all of the warm welcomes, but he cannot deny the wall of anxiety that looms over his head every time he steps outside. It’s inevitable, undeniable, unavoidable, and Renjun feels as though his chest is closing up every time he thinks of his predicament.
He closes the door to his apartment and heaves a large sigh. It had only been a convenience store trip, and yet it had been exhausting for Renjun to even talk to the cashier, his social energy completely drained by the time he was done with his trip. Renjun sets his bag of snacks and drinks on the kitchen counter and begins to unload his things, stuffing the instant ramyeon into a spare cabinet and saving the bag of honey butter chips for himself. He sticks one of his drinks in his fridge and keeps one to drink now, screwing off the cap and taking a small sip. He relishes the fact that the drink is still cold despite the ten-minute walk back to his apartment, then quickly pads across the room to water his orchid.
By now, Renjun has a steady system going to take care of his orchid, and, thankfully, he hasn’t killed his plant within the first or second week: Water and use plant feed once a week, keep it in the sunlight and give it lots of love. Which Renjun still hasn’t figured out how to properly do outside of all the other steps—but he figures he should at least try out of respect to the old woman in the plant shop.
Over the next few weeks, between job searching and exploring his area of Seoul, Renjun decorates the orchid’s pot with vibrant colors, painting the outside a gentle baby blue before doodling little hearts, suns, and leaves on it. Making art gives Renjun solace, a small break from the busy, bustling urban life that awaits him when he steps outside his apartment.
“Not sure how else I can paint your pot, but hopefully it’s up to your standards…” Renjun sighs, resting his paintbrush atop the paper towel he’d been using up to that point. Admittedly, he had been talking to the plant more than he’d liked to be. A little comment about the weather here, a rant about how overwhelming Seoul was there, with some grievances about his job rejections sprinkled in on the occasion. Renjun had always been one for imaginary friends when he was little… This was no different, right?
As he’s washing his painting supplies, Renjun tries to imagine what the orchid would look like if it were an imaginary friend from his childhood. Once he asks himself if it would have a masculine or feminine appearance, he decides to retire his questions for the day and simply get back to washing the paint off of his brushes. He’ll save that internal discussion for another day.
🪴
“I got rejected from another job.”
Renjun throws his bag on his bed and sinks to the floor hopelessly, resting his back on his bedside and looking above where his orchid rests on his nightstand. Due to being low on money, he hasn’t had the funds to buy a small table for the orchid, which only makes his turmoil grow worse. If he isn’t able to get a job soon, he doesn’t imagine he’ll be able to keep up with rent or any other kind of living expenses. His savings can only take him so far.
“Maybe my parents were right. I should just fly back to Jilin, get an accounting degree. Make them proud or whatever,” Renjun mumbles mostly to himself, pulling his knees up and burying his face in them. It’s difficult—being optimistic in the face of moving to a new country, and trying to maintain that energy even in the face of all the obstacles littering his path, especially after all of the hard work he’d put into applying for a visa and finding an available apartment with reasonably priced rent.
“I can’t, though. I know I can’t. I’ve gotten this far, I just… need to hang on for a while longer. Right?” Renjun looks up and glances at his orchid once again, vibrantly in bloom, as if it has all of the answers in the world. Renjun likes to think that if the plant were an imaginary friend, it would be hugging him with its leafy arms and telling him to push through. He chuckles to himself—maybe he should stop imagining his orchid with large and green leafy arms.
“Okay. Okay, Renjun. Just keep pushing,” Renjun says to no-one in particular, affirming it out loud for himself. He gets up from the floor and dusts himself off, glancing around for his mop and broom. Maybe cleaning his room will give him a productive boost before he goes on the hunt for more jobs.
“Keep pushing.”
🪴
Thanks to some sort of wondrous miracle, Renjun finds a job.
It’s a simple barista job at a cafe amidst the streets of Hongdae, but it’s something. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk from his apartment, the pay can cover his rent, and the hours are quite generous, which Renjun is very thankful for. Upon a look at its location, he also realizes that it’s near the plant shop where he had found his orchid.
He sighs with relief upon getting home. He’s also posted a couple of ads around the street and on online boards to put himself out there as a freelance artist—a venture he knows will likely be fruitless, but at the very least, he tried. Maybe university was somewhere in his future.
Renjun walks over to the sink and fills one of his cups with water, jogging over to his orchid and pouring his usual amount of water, letting the soil absorb every drop.
“I’ve found a job finally! Hopefully you’ll see me in the apartment less now.” Renjun finds himself talking to the plant, completely on instinct this time. He’s gotten used to simply conversing with it over the past few weeks, confiding in it as if it were his best friend. If anything, it was a good secret keeper. It isn’t like he has any friends to call him weird for talking to his plant everyday, anyway.
He wonders if he should give the plant a name. He’s had the plant for about two months, is the closest thing to regular social interaction that he gets, and figures it deserves a name by now, but for some reason, none come to mind. Maybe he’ll stop by the plant shop one day for suggestions—perhaps the old woman already had a name for it. She seems like the type to name her plants.
“I hope you don’t miss me too much. I’ll be sure to give you updates about the job as the days pass,” Renjun says with a hum, getting up from where he was crouched and walking over to the sink to place the empty cup inside. He figures it was a good time as any to get the dishes done. He hums a cheery tune as he grabs the sponge and turns on the tap, grabbing the two singular dishes in the sink and rinsing them off. “I’ll be sure to take it day by day.”
Finally, things are looking up.
🪴
The barista gig is much nicer than he’d expected.
The owner of the place, Kun, is down-to-earth and humble, working alongside the other baristas and helping to make orders when the cafe got busy, always bringing pastries from the bakery next door for whoever was opening with him that morning. He was also Chinese, which Renjun had been delighted to hear, so conversations in their native language quickly became commonplace in the break room. It was almost relieving to speak in his native language to someone other than his parents, especially so far from home in such an unfamiliar place.
His coworker whom he often opens with, Jisung, is also nice. He had been shy and quite awkward upon first interaction, but after realizing that they have a lot more in common than they expected, they quickly became friends.
Over time, the café becomes like a second home to Renjun. It gives him a blissful routine to his day—wake up at sunrise, take an early morning walk down to the café, open up shop with Kun, work, then go home in the afternoon. The café staff is small, and its regular clientele is kind and sweet to Renjun and everyone else. He couldn’t ask for anything better.
With the money and tips earned from hours working at the cafe, Renjun buys his lovely orchid its own table. The orchid also earns itself a name, courtesy of Jisung, who had come over once to drop off some takeout and soju after a night spent talking about the wonders of space.
“Why don’t you name it after a star, like Bellatrix?” Jisung shuffles over to where Renjun is hovering over the plant, tracing a finger over the painted pot.
Renjun crosses his arms. “I’m not going to name my orchid Bellatrix, Ji. Star names for a plant feels… strange, for some reason. Besides, I don’t think the plant is all that enthusiastic about it.” He looks down at his orchid, whose leaves are now slightly droopy—and he swears they weren’t like that before.
“What about… a planet? A… planet name for a plant.” Jisung chuckles to himself while Renjun ponders on his suggestion. “I figured that might be easier than trying to pick from star names.”
“Venus,” Renjun says suddenly, crouching down until he’s eye level with the plant. Its bright petals stare back at him, vibrant and beautiful in every single way, a constant in Renjun’s life.
Jisung tilts his head, crouching down with Renjun to look at the plant with him, even though he is much taller and practically towers over Renjun and the plant. “Venus? Is that what you’re gonna name it?”
Renjun nods, the smile slowly growing on his face as his gaze locks in on a small collection of pale red hearts painted on the orchid’s pot. “Planet of love. I think it’ll do.”
🪴
It’s been a couple of months since he moved to Seoul, and Renjun has plenty of constants in his life now, which he’s grateful for. Constants mean routines, constants mean security, and constants mean no more loneliness. No more scary big city with buildings that loom menacingly over him, so tall that he has to crane his neck ninety degrees to get a good look at the top. No more hesitating before conversations. No more fear.
Renjun feels hopeful as he emerges from his apartment complex, AirPods in his ears as he takes the path that he knows by heart to the cafe. It’s his day off, but he figures he could grab a cup of coffee before he begins to check off his list of things to do today.
He pushes open the door to Cafe Horizon, the familiar bells above the door jingling cheerfully as he speedwalks over to the register. Jisung, who had been busy pouring milk into a latte, perks up upon seeing Renjun, nearly knocking over a couple of cups in the process of running over to the register to meet him.
“Hyung! Why would you come in on your day off? You should be resting… or hanging out with Venus… or watching a show, or something!” Despite Jisung’s comments, he’s already rung up Renjun’s usual and is grabbing a to-go cup from the stack next to the espresso machines.
“I have to get some more plant food for Venus. The plant shop is just a couple of blocks away, and I was planning to go home right after.” Renjun smiles, then playfully pats his arm from across the counter. “Stop worrying about me. Who else is working today? Is Kun in?”
Jisung shrugs, motioning in the direction of the bakery just next to the cafe as he gets to work on Renjun’s coffee. “He went to go talk with Ten hyung next door. He promised that he’d come back with some pastries, so maybe you should hang around until he comes back?”
Renjun chuckles, knowing that Kun likely wasn’t there to just talk. “Knowing them, they’re going to be talking until Ten closes up shop. I want to get home before sunset, so I’ll pass on waiting.”
“Well, I would hope Kun hyung comes back before sunset, at least. Who knows when Yangyang is getting back from his lunch break…” Jisung mumbles from behind the counter, letting espresso drip from the machine and into Renjun’s to-go cup. He grabs Renjun’s specific concoction of syrup bottles and prepares to pour the milk inside to complete his latte.
Renjun laughs again. Another of their newer coworkers, Yangyang, definitely liked to take advantage of Kun being away from the cafe, using it as an excuse to be less punctual about things. “Well, I hope both of them come back from their break soon so you’re not managing the store all by yourself.”
“They’d better. Don’t know why they’d leave the store to an eighteen-year-old in the first place… At least it’s slow.” Jisung looks around the coffee shop, noting the very few people inside hunched over their laptops before turning back to Renjun and sliding his cup across the counter. “The Renjun special for the man himself. Have fun at the plant shop, hyung!”
With sparkling eyes and a starstruck view of the world, Renjun can’t help but adore Jisung and how endearing he is with every step that he takes. He takes his latte, wishes he could pat Jisung’s head from across the counter, and bids him farewell, waving at him before exiting the cafe. As he’s walking to the plant shop, he takes a small peek inside the bakery next door, and sure enough, Kun and Ten are sitting at a table with two cups of coffee, talking and looking at each other like there’s no one else in the world. Renjun shakes his head with a smile and continues down the path.
🪴
“Ah, I can tell you’ve been taking care of your orchid very well. You seem so full of joy right now!”
Renjun nervously laughs as the old woman—Miss Kwon, he has learned her name is—packages another bag of plant food for him. “Oh, well, I think I’ve just gotten more comfortable with the city and all. The subway isn’t as intimidating as it used to be!”
“That’s lovely, dear! Ah, you’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. I haven’t felt like this about someone that wasn’t a plant in ages.” Miss Kwon smiles, her wrinkles creasing as she ties up the small pouch of plant food and walks around the counter to give it to Renjun.
Renjun takes the pouch gently from her, noticing that it is much, much smaller than the bag she’d given him last time. “Is this all I’ll need…?” He hates to sound so rude, especially to someone so sweet like Miss Kwon, but he’s confused at the amount of plant food she’d given him compared to several months ago.
“I know what you’re thinking—I gave you a lot during your last visit. But I think that you’ll find that you won’t need it soon enough.” Miss Kwon winks at Renjun, which only makes him feel even more confused. “It’s on the house this time, dear. Come to me if you have any updates, though, okay?”
Renjun blinks, frozen in place, perplexed by Miss Kwon’s cryptic comments. He begins to pull out his wallet because he doesn’t want to keep feeling like he’s taking advantage of the poor old woman. “U-Uh, are you sure you don’t want me to pay? I truly insist that I don’t mind paying, especially because you’ve helped so much…”
“Nonsense, dear! Just keep on giving your gorgeous orchid lots of love. Venus, you said you named it?” Miss Kwon smiles again, seemingly endeared. “You will eventually see what I mean… Give it a week. Maybe even a couple of days.”
“Alright… Thank you, Miss Kwon.” He dips his head in a small bow, sticking the pouch of plant food in his tote bag and making his way over to the door. He looks back once more at the lush greenery all around him, catching another glimpse at Miss Kwon returning to the task of caring for the succulents, then turns to exit the shop.
🪴
“Sometimes I wonder what Miss Kwon means when she says to keep giving you lots of love.”
Renjun is sitting on the ground next to Venus’ small table, his back against the wall. The pouch of plant food rests in its small corner of space. Renjun figures that it’ll be good for a few weeks, maybe less, which worries him. What had Miss Kwon meant when she’d said that he wouldn’t need it soon enough? Was Venus going to die? No, there was no way in hell Renjun would let that happen.
Renjun groans. Mystery and perplexity plague his mind, making his head feel cloudy. There was only one way to find any kind of answer.
“I’ll just have to keep doing things as usual, wait it out…” Though Renjun has already watered Venus for the week, he pours the remaining contents of his water bottle, which really wasn’t a lot, over the orchid pot. “Goodnight. Should I sing a lullaby to put us both to sleep?”
It gets sillier the longer Renjun thinks about it and the more he does it, but for the past couple of weeks—not every night, but a good number of nights—Renjun has been singing himself to sleep. It gives him comfort, a reminder that he is present. It keeps him grounded and soothes him the more that he does it—he remembers when his mother used to sing him to sleep, which he also thinks about every time he hums a tune to himself while staring at the ceiling.
Today, Renjun curls up in his bed and hums a quiet tune—a Western pop song he’d heard in passing inside some store that he’d found and saved to his playlist. Eventually, humming becomes full-on singing, which then fades back into quiet mumbling as he drifts off to sleep, too tired to coherently finish the song.
🪴
Renjun’s day starts off like usual.
He rises as the sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, greeting him with orange skies and red clouds that streak across Seoul’s skyline. He heads to the bathroom to wash up, quickly getting dressed for work. Within twenty minutes, he’s out the door, brown apron in hand and tote bag slung over his shoulder. He plugs in his AirPods and begins the quiet morning walk to Cafe Horizon.
Work flies by like usual, too. He opens up shop with Kun, who emerges from the bakery next door with blueberry scones fresh out of the oven, warm and perfect for his breakfast. He greets all of his Tuesday regulars with a smile, working on coffee orders diligently, teasing Jisung when his crush walks in and wreaks havoc on the younger boy's heart.
Renjun leaves work with a smile on his face, waving Jisung goodbye as they part ways and head in separate directions on their way to their homes. He plugs his AirPods in, the walk feeling automatic and quick as he makes his way back to his apartment complex and fishes his keys out of his pocket.
When he enters and closes the door behind him, he sees someone else in his apartment.
He yelps, jumping as the person perks up from where they were seated on the floor and quickly approaches him. Instincts kick in, and he grabs his tote bag and swings it in the mystery person’s direction. His vision is blurry, and he has half a mind to profile the person before they can escape.
“Wait, wait, whoa, it’s not what you think! I’m not a thief! Or a murderer! It’s me, Renjun!” The person dodges the swing aimed at him and holds his hands up in the air, pink hair swept perfectly across his face as he frantically tries to calm Renjun down. The pink hair was definitely going to get him caught if he really were a thief, Renjun thinks to himself.
“I don’t know who the hell you are or how you got into my apartment, but you need to return everything that you stole or I’ll seriously call 112!” Renjun yells, continuing to blindly swing his tote bag around at the intruder in his home.
“I didn’t steal anything! Feel free to take a look around. I stole nothing. Do you see anything on my person that I could have possibly stolen?” The intruder dodges all of his swings, eventually backing himself into the wall and shrinking back.
That makes Renjun pause his swinging. He looks around his apartment—everything seems to be in its rightful place. He slowly makes his way over to his night table drawer and checks his small jewelry box—no pieces were missing. He checks under his bed—all of his books and boxes remain untouched, dusty from the months that they’d gone unused. When he sweeps his apartment once more, he can only find one thing out of place in his tiny, humble apartment.
Venus is gone.
“What did you do with my orchid?” Renjun turns around and grabs the collar of the intruder’s baby blue shirt. “That plant has a lot of sentimental value to me, so if you don’t tell me where the hell—”
“It’s me. I’m Venus.” The mystery person says, practically shaking in his boots even though Renjun is at least a couple of inches shorter than him. He shrinks even more into himself and looks down at Renjun with a sheepish smile. “And I’d appreciate it if you would stop calling me an intruder—I’ve been living in your apartment for months now!”
“What? Don’t play games with me. I—” Renjun stops in his tracks, finally taking a good hard look at the person’s vividly pink hair, which seemed to be the exact color of Venus’ vibrant petals. There also seem to be… leaves stuck in a couple of places. Renjun reaches up and plucks one of the leaves out of his hair, twirling the stem between his fingers. It looks just like one of Venus’ lush green leaves.
“How is this possible…” Renjun mumbles to himself, completely bewildered. He looks up at who he supposes is the human incarnate of Venus again, noting the baby blue shirt that seemed similar to the shade of baby blue that he’d painted over Venus’ pot with. Everything is pointing to the conclusion that the person in front of him is indeed the plant he had taken care of since his first few days in Seoul.
“I know it seems crazy, but I really am, well, your plant! Gosh, how did all the others explain this to their owners… Or did they even get this far? Ugh…” Venus begins mumbling to himself, nervously running his hands through his hair, leaves falling out of the locks with every move he makes. “Miss Kwon would know how to explain this better.”
“Miss Kwon? You mean to say that she knew about all this…?” Renjun furrows his brow quizzically. He thinks back to his last trip to the plant shop and connects the dots in his head. “...So that’s what she meant when she said that I wouldn’t need to use the plant food soon enough.”
“Oh! Yeah, I kind of ate the rest of it once I turned… It was really good. Thanks for keeping me well-fed all the time! I wish I could express how thankful I am. You’re such a sweet owner!” Venus pulls Renjun into a tight hug, which makes his eyes go wide. His embrace is strong, though, and Renjun doesn’t think he’s felt a hug like this ever since he left for Seoul, so he gently hugs him back, awkwardly wrapping his arms around his waist.
Renjun doesn’t know how to feel about being called… an owner. Especially now that his plant has grown into a human being and can talk to him—which he is still trying to wrap his head around. In general, Renjun is still unsure of how to react to anything right now. “Yeah, um… You can just call me Renjun. No need to call me your owner. Hey, I’m gonna step out for a couple of minutes. Is that okay?” He steps back and pats Venus once more before pulling himself out of the hug. Venus steps back and nods enthusiastically, making his way over to sit on Renjun’s bed.
“That’s fine. I’ll wait here, then! I’ve always loved waiting here like this for you. The apartment has a lovely view!” He places his hands in his lap and beams up at Renjun with sparkling eyes.
… Right. He would always leave Venus facing the sun that streamed through his apartment window if he remembered to. A million questions float through Renjun's head as he slings his tote bag over his shoulder and sighs deeply. “It does, doesn’t it? Well… I’ll be back soon. After I’ve figured some more things out, hopefully…”
“Have fun!” Renjun hears Venus say before he closes the door behind him. He stumbles making it to the elevator and holds his head in his hands once the elevator doors close, massaging his temples even though it does nothing to help the complete and utter confusion that he’s feeling. So much for a usual routine day.
“What the fuck.”
🪴
“Welcome in—ah, it’s you! You’ve come in so late, dear, what’s happened?” Miss Kwon slowly sets her watering can down as Renjun rushes into the store, out of breath from running to the plant shop. He straightens himself once he’s recovered, bowing to Miss Kwon and approaching her.
“Hello, Miss Kwon… Um, I just had a question about my plant. I hope I’m not disturbing anything…” Renjun looks around. Everything looks as it had been the last time he’d visited, the abundance of plants around him giving him a sense of comfort and security.
“Yes, what is it? Oh, goodness—has your plant finally bloomed?” Miss Kwon gasps, scurrying behind the counter and beginning to rummage through a couple of drawers. “What exciting news! It’s been so long since I’ve had a customer come to me about this.” She straightens her back for a second to grab a hair tie from the counter and tie her long, grey hair back, then resumes her filing through the many wooden drawers full of knickknacks and vials.
Renjun raises an eyebrow with confusion, following Miss Kwon to the register, still unsure of how to bring up his… situation. “Bloomed? Wasn’t it already in bloom when I purchased it?”
“Mm, yes, it had blossomed, but… Since you’re standing in front of me right now looking quite astonished, my intuition tells me you already know what I mean when I say that.” Miss Kwon pauses her search to wink knowingly at Renjun. Renjun opens his mouth to speak, but pauses—that could only mean…
“So you knew about this outcome all along?” Renjun asks, shocked at the possibility of it. It isn’t too far-fetched, considering Miss Kwon’s mysterious nature and unique methods of taking care of her plants—including the way she talked about them.
Perhaps Venus had been conscious all along.
Miss Kwon emerges from behind the counter with a small bag, which she gently pushes into Renjun’s hands. “This will answer all of your questions, dear. I couldn’t be happier knowing that you’ve given that lovely orchid so much love. Never stop giving him all that care and love, alright? You’ve done so well!”
Renjun, still as confused as he was when he walked in, blinks as Miss Kwon smiles, picking up her watering can again and humming a cheerful tune. She seems livelier now, seemingly fueled by Renjun’s words.
“So… This will give me all of my answers?” Renjun holds the bag up, trying not to appear incredulous at the sheer vagueness of this entire situation. Why was Miss Kwon so vague about everything, and why did his trip to the plant shop answer absolutely none of his questions? Renjun has a headache from all the thoughts rushing through his head like river rapids.
Miss Kwon turns to Renjun, pausing her watering and looking up thoughtfully. “I think that the answers you seek will come to you eventually. We’ll be closing up shop soon, so you’d better be on your way home soon, hm? I’m sure you’ve got lots of answers just waiting to be discovered.”
Renjun opens his mouth to speak, but Miss Kwon is already back to humming her tune and watering her plants. He sighs, figuring that there was no use in pestering the old woman for more, and turns to leave. He swears he hears the sound of hushed, excited whispers as he pushes open the door to the plant shop and makes his way back home.
🪴
“So let me get this straight. You, as a plant, heard every single thing that I said to you. You had… a conscience this entire time. And to top it all off, you already had a name before I decided to give you one.”
Venus nods. “Yes, every single thing! Conscience is… Well, I guess that’s a pretty smart way to word it! Let’s just say I retain memories as I grow and blossom. And yes! My name is Jaemin. Venus is a really cute name, though, if you want to keep calling me that. It’s cute!”
Venus—well, Jaemin, Renjun supposes, sits next to him on his bed, appearing bright and energetic in the face of such a drastic event in what could have just been another routine day. More than anything, Renjun hates changes in his routine, and he’s never been a fan of having to adjust to sudden changes. Especially changes like this.
This is a whole other ballpark, Renjun thinks to himself. Jaemin could be anything—he could be sorcery, he could be lying, or he could be the result of magic. All of those options seem otherworldly, including the lying—it amazes Renjun that the possibility of magic existing sits right in front of him, in the form of a tall (and strikingly handsome) man with olive skin and vibrant pink hair that was once his houseplant, who he aired out all of his grievances about loneliness to.
This is more than just a small interruption in Renjun’s routine—this kind of situation disrupts the entirety of Renjun’s life. A house plant was one thing—how could he take care of an entire other person? Not to mention that his lease only allowed one person. How was he supposed to explain the logistics of all this to Jaemin?
Overwhelmed by the thoughts swimming around like hungry piranhas in his head, Renjun drops his head into his hands, burying his face in them and groaning extremely loudly. Jaemin tilts his head and instinctively leans in to hug him. For some reason, Renjun doesn’t have the heart to immediately push him away. He did always imagine his plant would hug him like this—it’s a reality now, minus the leafy green arms that always popped up in his imagination.
“Hey, it’s okay! I may be kind of confused about life right now too, but we can figure this out together! It’s like you said. Just keep pushing, right?”
Renjun looks up at Jaemin, into brown eyes that keep him grounded, like seeds covered by damp soil, protected from the wind. “You really do remember everything, huh…”
“You gave me all the love I needed while you were raising me—even when you were so lonely and unsure of yourself. It’s only fair that I do my best to comfort you back, now that I can talk.” Jaemin nervously laughs and picks another leaf out of his hair. Where did that even come from?
Renjun feels his heart skip a beat at the statement. He’s not sure why. He recalls Miss Kwon’s note from so long ago: ‘With lots of love and time, your lovely orchid will bloom into a beautiful, gorgeous flower.’ Well, she got the beautiful and gorgeous part right. ‘Just keep on giving your orchid lots of love.’ Renjun supposes that he got the job done, considering that his beloved house plant is now a tall, handsome man with pink hair.
“Well,” Renjun finally says after a couple of moments, “you’re right. I think we should just keep pushing. Take it day by day… It’s getting late anyway. I still have to get up tomorrow for work.”
“Oh, gosh. You wake up right at sunrise… You really should be getting to bed! I’m sorry for keeping you up so late.” Jaemin’s expression turns into a worried one, and he begins to fuss over Renjun’s sleep schedule as he pushes Renjun away from him and over to his dresser so that he can get dressed for bed.
“It’s alright, it’s better that we sort… whatever this is out.” Renjun smiles as Jaemin courteously turns around so that Renjun can undress. He’s slightly flattered that Jaemin remembers his routine, down to the time he winds down and gets ready for bed.
He supposes that Jaemin has always been there, for every step of his routine, for every little significant event that had happened while living in his humble little apartment. Jaemin had been dutifully watching over Renjun since his first week in Seoul, when he hardly knew left from right when it came to getting around the city. Venus’ vibrant pink petals that he adored so much take form in Jaemin’s luscious pink locks, which seem to still have a couple of stray leaves stuck in them.
Renjun finishes changing into his pajamas and slides back into bed, gently resting his hand on Jaemin’s shoulder. Jaemin immediately turns around and smiles at him, leaning into the lingering touch for as long as he can.
“Do you even need sleep? Are you a full human now, or…?” Renjun went into Miss Kwon’s shop with questions and left with no answers and even more questions. He doesn’t even know where to begin with… well, all of this.
“Honestly… I’m not sure myself. I don’t exactly feel tired…” Jaemin furrows his brow and looks down at his hands as if they hold all the answers in the world. “I’ll open that pouch that Miss Kwon gave you while you’re out tomorrow. Hopefully, it’ll help?”
Renjun nods. “I’ll do my own research too. This is a group effort, I’ll do my best to continue to take care of you.” Jaemin may not be a plant anymore—but this change brought personality and brightness to a plant that had been like his rock for months upon months. He can’t really complain about it, despite the damning situation of having an entire other person in his one-room apartment. “If you do get tired, well…”
“I can just sleep on the floor, it’s alright.” Jaemin shifts on the bed and begins to move off, but Renjun grabs ahold of his sleeve and looks up at him with nervous eyes.
“You can sleep here. In the bed, I mean. If you feel like you need it…” Renjun is completely aware of the implications of sharing a bed, and it tints his cheeks a soft, gentle red. He can’t find it in himself to care at that moment, though.
“Oh! Well… That’s fine, then! I’ll just sit here, and I’ll lay down if I end up feeling tired.” Jaemin’s ears are beginning to match the color of his hair, slowly fading into a bright red as he chuckles and scratches his head.
“Mkay,” Renjun mumbles sleepily, fatigue and sleepiness from the events of the day hitting him like a dump truck. He yawns and settles into bed, sliding under the covers and pulling the duvet over his figure. He soon succumbs to sheer exhaustion, his world fading slowly into unconsciousness.
🪴
Renjun is warm when he awakens from his slumber.
He slowly blinks the sleep out of his eyes, feeling oddly weighed down despite getting his usual amount of sleep. When he finally feels fully awake, his vision focused, he realizes that Jaemin is directly in front of him.
He has half a mind to remain still—Jaemin holds on tightly to him from above the covers, chest slowly rising and falling in a slow rhythm. His face is mere inches from Renjun, and from his position, he can notice tiny details that he hadn’t quite had the time to notice before: long lashes that compliment his sparkling eyes, a button nose that reminds him of Venus’ budding blossoms, and parted lips that look full, plump, and quite kissable from this distance.
Renjun shakes his head. What was he thinking? He closes his eyes and tries to shoo all of his wandering thoughts away, gently grabbing Jaemin’s arm wrapped around him and lifting it, sliding out of bed quietly. The sun isn’t quite up yet, which gives Renjun enough time to hop in the shower and wash up. He prays that Jaemin doesn’t wake up while he’s getting ready as he lets the cold shower water shock him awake, not wanting to deal with the feeling swirling in his chest this early in the morning.
When he’s out of the shower, dried off, and dressed in his work clothes, Renjun decides to do the one thing he forgot to do yesterday in the midst of chaos and questions, and a lack of answers—Google his predicament and seek answers from the all-knowing Internet.
Understandably, searching up ‘my plant came to life and is now a human, what to do?’ yields unhelpful results, mostly consisting of fanfiction and webtoons that Renjun decides to bookmark for later. He sighs, then Googles the plant shop that Miss Kwon owns. He scrolls through the ten reviews, then scrolls down past various ads for plant shops until he finds himself on an unassuming blog page that had posted their review and experience with taking care of the plants they had bought at Miss Kwon’s plant shop.
Renjun looks over at the peacefully sleeping Jaemin once more before grabbing his tote bag from the dining table and exiting the apartment, making his way over to the elevator. He decides that he’ll read the blog post on his way to work, and once he’s on the street, he begins to scroll through and skim the contents of the post.
He’s halfway through the blog post and halfway to Cafe Horizon when he reads the sentence ‘The plant ended up turning into a person, though, so there is that.’
Renjun shakes his head and blinks, making sure that he’d read it right. He reads the full review about the polka dot plant that the blogger had picked up from the shop.
“Next up and last on the haul is the Hypoestes phyllostachya that I picked up from this shop, more commonly known as the polka dot plant or flamingo plant. Surprisingly, this one was a personal recommendation from the lovely shop owner, who goes by the name of Miss Kwon! I told her that I was an avid plant parent and looking to bring a couple more plants home with me to give a lovely home to. After I’d picked up the two aforementioned succulents, she insisted I come to the back of the store and check out a few of the bigger houseplants, who were supposedly looking for a good home and a companion to take care of them. My gaze eventually fell on a little polka dot plant among the bunch of plants there, and I’m no longer afraid to say that it was practically love at first sight.
If you don’t know, Hypoestes phyllostachya require a lot of water and thrive best in humid environments. They prefer areas with a bit of shade, so I decided to keep the plant near my curtained bedroom window, providing it with the perfect amount of light and keeping it in a semi-warm environment. I watered the plant every day, taking great care in making sure the soil wasn’t too soggy or damp—wouldn’t wanna lose it to root rot.
Overall, my experience with the Hypoestes phyllostachya was wonderful! Over the numerous months I raised it, it grew well and stayed vibrant and brilliantly pink, which made me happy. The plant ended up turning into a person, though, so there is that. But no one reading this is actually going to believe that, if anyone is reading this at all.
And that concludes my post about the plants I bought at Hongdae’s hidden plant heaven! This is Lee Jeno, your average (un)cool plant dad, signing off. (.◜◡◝)”
Renjun very nearly walks into a lamppost as he finishes reading, incredulous at the fact that this Lee Jeno had gone through nearly the same experience as him. Immediately, Renjun scrolls back up to the top of the page and visits the homepage of the blog, scouring the site for some type of contact information or email. He chances upon an Instagram handle, @uncoolplantdad, in his most recent blog post, and immediately opens the app to search for him.
Unfortunately, by the time he’s done typing up his message to Lee Jeno and sending it off with no further thought in mind, he’s finally reached Cafe Horizon, and the jingling of Kun’s keys snaps him out of his flowery daze.
“Morning, Renjun! You ready to open?” Kun greets him cheerfully in Chinese, unlocking the doors and holding them open for Renjun with a smile. “I’ve got freshly baked snickerdoodles from Ten’s today!”
“Morning, Kun. Ready as usual,” Renjun mumbles with a yawn. “Might need a morning coffee alongside those snickerdoodles, though.” He doesn’t want to blame his lack of sleep on Jaemin, but there really was nothing else preventing him from getting sleep that night, with the exception of his now-humanoid houseplant. Renjun still struggles to wrap his head around it almost an entire day later.
“Who am I to deny my workers of a good old cup of coffee?” Kun locks the door behind them, makes sure that the sign is flipped to Closed, then scurries behind the counter, placing the paper bag of snickerdoodles on one of the tables near the register on his way there. “Renjun special, coming right up!”
Renjun munches on a snickerdoodle while Kun prepares coffee for him and for himself. They sit in comfortable silence, sipping on their coffees as Renjun checks his phone for a notification every two seconds. Lee Jeno didn’t seem like the type to also be up at sunrise, but that didn’t stop him from being anxious for a reply to his message. Answers were what he needed most right now, after all.
Jeno's reply comes amidst the morning rush, hours before Renjun’s shift is set to end.
@hrj00323
Lee Jeno! Hi, my name is Huang Renjun. This message may come off as weird or odd, but I stumbled across one of your blog posts on the Internet while trying to figure out my current predicament, and I believe you are one of the only people in the world who may be able to help me right now. If you still live in Seoul—is there any chance that we can meet somewhere later tonight or sometime this week? Sorry for such a sudden and random message lol, I swear I am not a bot or a catfish, just a very confused human.
@uncoolplantdad
hello, renjun! i’m just going to go with my instincts here, based on your message and your ig profile full of pics of your orchid (gorgeous, by the way! the orchid, i mean.), that you’ve seen my blog post about my polka dot plant! i’m free tonight until 9 pm, just name a time and place and i’ll be there :) looking forward to meeting you!
🪴
Lee Jeno, as it turns out, isn’t as uncool as he makes himself out to be on the internet.
Renjun texts back the minute he gets off work, fingers practically flying across the screen as he swiftly replies back with a meeting place and time—another cafe a couple of blocks down the street at 3 pm. It gives him enough time to grab a bite to eat before popping into the designated cafe, ordering a cup of tea, and seating himself at one of the tables near the entrance. He takes a long, hard look at his face on Instagram before putting his phone down and anxiously counting down the minutes to 3 pm.
At 3 pm sharp, the door to the cafe opens, and in comes Lee Jeno, looking exactly like the pristine Instagram pictures Renjun had stared so hard at. He’s tailed by another person, also well dressed, hair colored bright and vivid pink. Renjun waves at both of them from his table and the pair wave back, making their way over to the table and seating themselves in the free chairs.
“Hi, Lee Jeno. I’m Huang Renjun. I apologize again for such a sudden meeting…” Renjun laughs nervously. He’d exhausted all of his options at this point, riding on the last wave of desperation that had possessed his body early this morning. He didn’t know if there was anything else he could do.
“Hi, Renjun! You’re so polite, it’s really cute… You can just call me Jeno!” Jeno’s eyes scrunch up into little crescent moons as he waves his hands, then motions over to his pink-haired companion. “And this is my boyfriend, Donghyuck.”
“Hey.” Donghyuck smiles and gives him a brief but friendly wave. “I’m just here for the vibes. And I also wanted to get some sun.”
Jeno chuckles, reaching under the table to pat Donghyuck’s thigh and give it an affectionate squeeze. “Yeah, remember that blog post? Donghyuck is the aforementioned polka dot plant.”
Renjun nearly spits his tea out. “He’s your boyfriend now?”
Donghyuck bursts into a fit of giggles that he attempts to hide behind the sleeve of his leather jacket. Jeno stifles his laughter, trying to wave him off. “Sorry. The reaction was kind of funny, I’m not gonna lie. But yeah, Donghyuck is my boyfriend now.”
Donghyuck reaches over to wrap an arm around Jeno, his chair squeaking noisily as he moves it closer to Jeno’s side. “He didn’t need much convincing, by the way. We got together within the week. Tell him how we got together, Jen!”
“I’m getting there, babe. Hm, where do I start… I guess you already know all the plant care details. Donghyuck really was one of my favorite plants, I’ll give you that. And I have over twenty!” Jeno keeps a hand idle over Donghyuck’s thigh, reaching for his phone with his other hand. “It really just happened one day. I came back home, and… well, there he was.”
“How long had you owned him by that point?” It isn’t Renjun’s intention to immediately start asking questions, but he figures the bluntness would at least start then on the right track. He’s here for answers, after all, and to get to know someone who had gone through a similar experience in order to get his point of view.
Jeno purses his lips in thought, trying to recall. “A couple of months, I’d say. I don’t know if you ended up reading my other blog posts—which, to be honest, I haven’t been keeping up with those lately, but I usually post weekly logs about my plants there. I sometimes shared them with Miss Kwon, who just seemed really enthusiastic about the whole thing—she’s super sweet, honestly. Love her a lot.”
“She is very sweet. Very welcoming too,” Renjun muses. However cryptic and vague the old lady may be, she was one of the first people in Seoul to show him kindness, and he cherishes that fact still to this day.
Jeno nods, smiling with his eyes again. Renjun wonders if that’s just how he usually smiles. “I can see it. The shop itself is so inviting, I would have spent forever in there if I didn’t live so far away.”
“Where do you live?“
“Myeongdong. Which isn’t far, but carrying plants all the way back there from Hongdae can get a bit tedious sometimes.” Jeno shrugs. “I do still visit the shop from time to time, though!”
“That’s not too far. I’ve only been there like once or twice since coming to Seoul.” If Renjun remembers correctly, Myeongdong is about thirty minutes away by subway train—he definitely understands Jeno’s comment about not being able to make the trip regularly.
“Do you like it in Seoul so far? Assuming you’re new to the area.”
Renjun nods. “I am. I moved here a couple of months ago. Bought my orchid to keep me company.”
“Orchids are great companions! I’m sure it was well-loved as a plant.” Jeno smiles again, and Renjun feels a bit bashful under both his and Donghyuck’s endeared stares.
“I vaguely remember the orchids in the shop,” Donghyuck pipes up, resting an elbow against the table as he leans forward and grins at Renjun. “I’m sure they took a liking to you.”
“I… suppose they did. Miss Kwon said something along those lines.” Renjun can’t really say for sure if they all liked him or not—but Jaemin certainly seems to
“Anyways,” Jeno says exasperatedly, taking Donghyuck’s hand in his own. “I was extremely confused and puzzled to see an entire other person in my apartment. And in my bed, no less.”
“You put me in your bedroom! Where else was I supposed to go?”
“Literally anywhere else? I sleep there!”
“We sleep there now. It’s our bed.”
Renjun watches the couple quip back and forth at each other for a couple of moments before Jeno turns to look back at Renjun, pushing Donghyuck’s face away. “Donghyuck did his best to explain everything to me—and to sum up a very long and confusing trip to the plant shop and back, Miss Kwon can use magic. She has the ability to enchant and charm plants. Not every plant in her shop is enchanted, though, just the ones in the back that she usually ends up showing you. She has an affinity for plant care, I swear…”
“And she takes good care of not just us, but all of her plants.” Donghyuck butts in again, removing Jeno’s hand from his face. “She likes to make sure that her plants are in good hands. I wish I could explain it better, but I guess there’s a certain formula that she looks for. She’s attuned to the feelings of her plants, which in turn makes her pretty intuitive about the feelings of humans too.”
“A formula…” Renjun holds a finger up to his chin, looking up at Jeno and Donghyuck, who are gently tussling with each other. Though they playfully bicker, they seem to be affectionate too, which makes Renjun’s mind wander to unimaginable places. He mentally swats the ideas away and takes a sip of his lukewarm tea. “So then… you two got together.”
Jeno stops trying to tickle Donghyuck long enough to nod over at Renjun. “Yup. You’d be surprised what sharing a bed and living with someone else can do to a relationship.” Instead of lunging over at Donghyuck, he wraps a sturdy arm around the other’s waist and smiles gently, brushing some stray pink hairs out of his face. Renjun tries not to imagine his own outcome as he looks away and takes another sip of tea.
“It’s hard to believe, but… well, I’ve got my own plant-turned-handsome-person waiting at home for me, and I’m still unsure of what to do even after hearing a clear explanation for all of this.” Renjun sets his mug of tea down with a sigh. Feelings aren’t something he was planning on confronting throughout his time in Seoul—and yet, here they stand, looming over him unmistakably like the tall buildings that stretch above him wherever he goes.
Jeno raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “Plant-turned-handsome-person, huh…” He chuckles softly, glancing momentarily at Donghyuck before giving Renjun a wink that gives him more questions than answers. “I’m sure things will turn out okay for you. Just play it by ear, let him have his freedom—things will eventually come naturally to you two as time passes.”
“I really hope so…” Even with uncertainty hanging in the air like morning fog, Renjun begins to formulate a plan in his head.
Play it by ear. Push through. Things will come naturally as time passes.
Renjun leaves the cafe with Jeno and Donghyuck’s numbers, and a new resolve to take things as they come.
🪴
Jaemin, as it turns out, easily fits into Renjun’s routine.
Renjun goes home that day with newfound resolve—Jaemin may have been a plant before, but now he’s his own person. He’ll still do his best to take care of him, but he insists to Jaemin that he should make his own decisions now. Jaemin takes it all in stride, nodding happily in response.
He starts to do chores around the house while Renjun is at work. He learns to clean, searches up recipes on Renjun’s laptop (how had he figured out the password?) and attempts to cook them. He does various other things around the house, like rearranging the fridge and organizing Renjun’s drawers (which are, admittedly, a mess) while waiting for the other to return from work, and even does the laundry once Renjun teaches him how to do it. Jaemin is quite a fast learner, he’s come to find out.
Eventually, Jaemin asks to leave the apartment and explore the wonderful city of Seoul. He’d spent some time studying maps of Seoul on Renjun’s laptop, and he ends up navigating the streets and the subway faster than Renjun could have ever imagined. They go out to Myeongdong to buy new clothing, and Jaemin finds himself a new mint-colored hoodie and a couple of cat shirts that hurt Renjun’s wallet, but look adorably big over Jaemin’s figure, so he figures it’s money well-spent.
“Jaemin is adjusting surprisingly well, honestly,” Renjun admits to himself, watching as Jaemin and Donghyuck animatedly discuss something while hunched over a couple of pastries. Jeno, who had insisted on meeting up after hearing that Renjun was in the area, hums softly and takes a small sip of his drink.
“It looks like going with the flow is working well for you two! I’m glad.” Jeno winks, shooting Renjun with a knowing look that has him spiraling. There are thoughts in Renjun’s head, but he pushes them to the side and chooses not to confront them in favor of letting Jaemin chase his freedom.
Renjun still shares a bed with Jaemin, of course. That has become a more silent, subtle part of their routine—one they don’t talk about that much during the day. Renjun doesn’t have the heart to make Jaemin sleep on the floor, so it’s now become commonplace for Renjun to wake up with Jaemin’s arms and legs fully wrapped around him like a koala. Renjun tries not to think about what that does to his heart.
Kun thankfully doesn’t question Jaemin’s origins at all when Renjun walks into Cafe Horizon with him, explaining that he needed a job. Renjun is able to spend more time with Jaemin this way—not that he needed to keep an eye on him or anything, but because he simply wanted to see him. Which had been a bit difficult to admit to himself, but he figures it’s a step in the right direction.
They continue for a couple of weeks like this—Jaemin begins to go out on his own too, taking a different shift from Renjun’s usual opening one. He comes in later in the morning and leaves around the evening, when the winter sun has begun to set in the sky.
By week five, Renjun has finally fully accepted the miraculous phenomenon that is Jaemin. He figures anything magical would have some kind of near-miracle effect, but Jaemin is… different. Jaemin isn’t just any random magical phenomenon to Renjun—Jaemin is the direct result of Renjun’s love and care.
Renjun likes to think about it when he gets home from a particularly long shift and sees that Jaemin has not come home yet. He thinks about Venus’ vibrant petals and healthy leaves, and he thinks about Jaemin’s bright pink hair and strong, sturdy arms. He thinks about how grateful he is to Jaemin for providing him solace and companionship amidst his lonelier days in Seoul, and he thinks about the time Jaemin told him how grateful he is to Renjun for raising him well. All of his thoughts generate a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest that he can’t continue to deny anymore. He lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, contemplating his predicament and wondering if Jaemin feels the same way about him too.
He’s curled up in bed, already half-asleep when he hears the sound of the door opening, keys jingling as Jaemin sets his bag down on the dining table and sighs. He takes off his shoes and hangs his apron on one of the command hooks that he had installed himself around week two of being a person. Renjun sometimes regrets searching for so many home improvement tutorial videos on YouTube.
Renjun pretends to be asleep, covertly covering his eyes so that he could keep them open and watch as Jaemin gently smiles at Renjun’s “sleeping” figure. He makes his way over to the bed and sits on the edge behind Renjun, slipping out of his vision. He hears the rustle of fabric as Jaemin undresses and puts on what he assumes is something more comfortable, and the bed dips again as he climbs on, scooting terrifyingly close to Renjun and wrapping an arm around him.
Renjun feels his heart pound in his chest when he feels Jaemin’s breath on his nape, trying his best not to inhale sharply when he presses his face into the back of his head, burying his face in his brown hair. Jaemin smells like earthy soil, even weeks after his transformation from a plant, and waking up to the smell has made Renjun grow accustomed, even expectant of it. It provides him a form of comfort—a bit of shade from the unrelenting sun of life.
“So you’ve been intentionally cuddling me every night,” Renjun suddenly comments—he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but the byproduct of his racing thoughts can no longer stay in his mind, it seems. He hears Jaemin yelp in surprise and he instinctively pulls back, which Renjun immediately protests. “Wait—you can stay there, if you’d like.”
“Oh! Well, you’ve caught me…” Jaemin says sheepishly from behind him. Renjun turns around, feeling oddly bold as he comes face to face with Jaemin, and smiles gently. Every now and then, there will be stray leaves stuck in his pink locks of hair—he doesn’t know how or why the leaves keep appearing despite five weeks of being a human, but they appear nonetheless. Perhaps he’ll ask Jeno about it the next time they meet. Renjun picks out yet another stray leaf that has found its way in between his bangs, taking it in Jaemin’s hand and pressing it there.
“I’m sorry—it really wasn’t intentional the first couple of times, I just kept gravitating to you in your sleep for some reason!” Jaemin’s expression is fretful, worried in anticipation of Renjun’s reaction. Renjun is familiar with that kind of anxiety—the anxiety of not knowing whether or not something you love doing isn’t appreciated by other people. Renjun sighs, then gently runs a hand through Jaemin’s hair.
“If I didn’t like it, I would have told you to stop. So stop worrying so much—you have no idea how much I love it.” Renjun absorbs himself in brushing his hands through Jaemin’s hair, enjoying the way his fingers glide through the infinitely soft strands.
“You… love it?” Jaemin’s eyes go wide, sparkling bright despite the dim light in their apartment.
“I do. And you know what else I love?” Renjun murmurs quietly, starting to get anxious about what he’s seconds away from saying.
Jaemin pauses at that, furrowing his brow quizzically. “...What?”
“You,” Renjun answers, “I love you.” He stops brushing Jaemin’s hair and hesitantly takes his face in his hands, thumb brushing across his cheek. Jaemin doesn’t pull away or say anything in response, so he takes that as a sign to keep going. “And I want to see you grow more, love more with each step you take out into that scary world outside.”
“Well, I love you too,” Jaemin responds a bit bashfully, wrapping his fingers around Renjun’s wrist. “Thank you for taking care of me for all this time. I try my best to thank you for it every day.”
“It’s hard to believe that just a few weeks ago you were a plant sitting on that table over there.” Renjun motions to the now-empty table he’d bought just for Jaemin with his head. “Now that table has no purpose.”
“We’ll find something cute to put on it, promise!” Jaemin wraps his other hand around Renjun’s other wrist, pulling them closer to himself so that Renjun’s hands are resting on his chest. “Now that you’ve told me all this… Can I do something that I’ve wanted to do since I became human?”
Renjun tilts his head, curious about what Jaemin had in store. “Sure…? I’m not sure what—”
Renjun is interrupted by Jaemin’s lips pressing onto his—a bit too hard and a bit too excited, Jaemin is all but eager, which Renjun finds quite endearing. He’ll have to learn about this kind of thing with Jaemin, Renjun thinks to himself as he closes his eyes and kisses back.
They stay kissing in bed for a long while until the sun has long set in the sky, Seoul’s skyscraper city lights twinkling as they fall asleep to what would become another habitual routine.
🪴
Renjun and Jaemin do eventually get something for the empty small table in their apartment.
In the center of the table, a blossoming pink orchid sits vibrantly, its pot painted a soft baby blue and its soil lush and damp with fresh water, soaking in the sunset as Renjun and Jaemin lay in bed, inseparable like a plant to its pot.