Chapter Text
Jeongguk sings quietly to himself as he strolls through the forest on the eastern side of the dorms. There’s a knife holster attached to his belt. The blade, sharpened to a razor’s edge, never leaves his side except when he showers or sleeps, and even then, it’s under his pillow.
The song he sings is one he made up himself. There aren’t many songs around from the previous era. No one has time for songs or singing any more, but music seems to be in Jeongguk’s blood. He often wakes up with melodies playing in his head. Sometimes he makes up lyrics to go along with the tunes. It’s just something to do while he forages or trains, something that comes easily to him and makes the work go faster.
Today’s task is twofold - forage for the magnolia berries needed by the healer who lives in the nearby stronghold, and do some fishing in the lake over by where the magnolia bushes grow. A fishing rod rests against one shoulder and two pails swing from his other hand.
He knows his hyungs would scold him for singing, not because it’s a frivolous pastime, but because it gives away his location to anyone…or thing that may decided he looks like an easy target or a tasty meal. They’re right, of course. There are plenty of dangers in the forest. But Jeongguk has been training to be a hunter, just like his hyungs, ever since he was old enough to hold a knife. He knows how to protect himself.
Besides, his singing is so quiet that even he can hardly hear it. His senses are alert, and everything seems normal. Birds swoop and call to each other in the treetops. Frogs and insects hum in the undergrowth. The sun is high in the autumn sky. There’s nothing to worry about. For now.
The trail he’s on used to be a paved road. Some of the asphalt is still visible, although, most of it is covered up by plant growth. Some of the older hunters who were alive at the time of The Cleansing tell stories of driving their cars along massive roads called freeways. That was before the Mother of Monsters emerged from her slumber and swept all the cars, factories and technological advances, as well as a significant portion of the human population, into The Vast Nothing and unleashed her children upon the world.
Many of the monsters that now freely roam the world are nature spirits and protectors of nature, which is why the majority of the world has been overtaken by enormous forests and woodlands. Cities no longer exist. In their place, small settlements called strongholds have sprung up, as the remaining humans band together in hopes of increasing their chances for survival.
Some humans have learned how to fight against the monsters that regularly attack the human settlements. They’re called hunters and the buildings where they live and train are called dorms. Jeongguk isn’t a licensed hunter yet, but as soon as he becomes of age, he’ll undergo the trials. He’s been preparing for that day for a long time now and can’t wait until he can finally go with his hyungs when they leave on hunting trips.
He steps into the clearing where the lake glistens in the midday sun. The surface of the water is so still it’s like reflective glass. He approaches warily. Naiads frequently inhabit quiet lakes like this one, but the water sprites tend to like deeper ones where they have more room to stay hidden from prying human eyes. As he gets closer, he can see water bugs skimming along on top of the lake and tiny fish swimming underneath the still waters. He hopes there are some larger fish hidden in the depths, otherwise, there might not be enough to feed his found family of four.
Upending a large flat rock near the shore disturbs several worms. Jeongguk wastes no time in using a worm to bait his hook, casting his line into the middle of the smallish lake. Fortune is with him and the sun has only started to tip towards the horizon before he has five good-sized fish in one of his two pails. More than enough to feed four hungry young men.
He turns his attention to his other task. The magnolia berries are at peak ripeness. They glisten dark red, weighing down the spindly branches on which they grow. About the size of a blueberry, magnolia berries are also sometimes called the five flavor berry because they are simultaneously sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and spicy. They are used in many remedies, and these will bring a good price from the healer. Jeongguk happily fills his second pail, popping a few in his mouth and munching as he picks.
By the time the pail is full, the sun is below the tops of the trees. Although it hasn’t yet set, the gloaming has already gathered inside the forest. Seokjin, Namjoon, and Taehyung will be worried. He gathers his fishing rod and the pails full of the fruits of his labors, checks his knife in its sheath, and starts back along the trail that leads to the hunters’ dorm.
He’s not worried even though he knows monsters are more active at night. He’s not worried, but he is cautious, especially when he hears a sound rise above the chirping and buzzing of insects. He stops, all five senses straining for a clue as to what is making the unfamiliar sound. There’s a melancholy quality to the high pitched yipping noise. It doesn’t sound threatening, more sad and scared. Of course, some monsters lure their prey in by looking or sounding harmless, friendly even.
Jeongguk puts down his rod and pails, unsheathing his knife. He holds it at the ready and faces the direction from which the noise is coming. Stealthily, he moves off the trail and into the underbrush, knife held at the ready.
The noise changes from individual sharp yelps, to a softer keening sound that could almost be mistaken for the saddest of songs. Jeongguk, moves forward in a crouch, footsteps as silent as possible over the carpet of fallen leaves. He tracks the sound to a cave that is little more than an enlarged burrow. Just as he has nearly reached the opening, his foot lands on a twig, and it snaps.
The noise from inside the burrow cuts off instantly.
Jeongguk internally curses his own clumsiness, but the damage is done. He’s given himself away. Whatever is inside there knows his exact location. If it’s a predator, it’s probably crouched and ready to pounce on him already.
The tiny cave can’t hold anything too big, he reasons with himself, trying to come up with a list of what could be waiting for him. Aside from the customary variety of woodland creatures, none of whom are much cause for concern, there are several monsters that, although small in size, could do some damage. For example, gremlins are quite small with a poisonous bite. Gremlins don’t make a yipping, keening noise though, at least not as far as he knows.
Leaves and scrub brush are piled in front of the burrow as though something has tried to camouflage the entrance. Curiosity overrides any sense of danger and, taking a steadying breath, Jeongguk uses the tip of his knife to push some of the detritus to the side.
A low growl emits from the cave. Jeongguk stills, analyzing the growl in his mind. Growls are usually warnings, often made by an animal that is scared or injured or doesn’t really want to attack unless they feel there is no other choice. A predator ready to strike, doesn’t growl before doing so. Predators don’t usually warn their prey beforehand, giving them a chance to run away. This growl in particular sounds like it’s coming from a creature in great pain. It’s high pitched with the edge of an underlying whine.
Jeongguk is suddenly filled with an overpowering urge to help. Before he can talk himself out of it, he rips the loose fronds and stems away from the cave mouth, tossing them out of the way.
Inside, the crevice is dark. For the second time in the span of only a few minutes, Jeongguk curses himself, this time for not bringing a flashlight along with him. That’s a rookie hunter’s mistake. All he can make out in the dim light filtering in through the canopy of leaves above him is the shine of two eyes, staring unblinkingly at him.
The growl comes again, this time more breathy and with a pleading quality, definitely more of a whimper. It tapers off to a few labored panting sounds, and then, the eyes close.
“Hey puppy, don’t bite me, okay? I’m here to help you. Please, don’t bite me,” he croons in his softest, most soothing voice. He doesn’t think it’s a puppy, but until he can see what it is, puppy is as good a name for it as anything else. All signs point to this being an injured wild animal, not a monster. Against his better judgement and with the voices of his hyungs screaming at him in his head, calling him an idiot and much worse, he reaches a hand through the opening.
Fur, matted and tacky, is what his fingers comes into contact with. When nothing bites him or rushes, snarling, out of the burrow, he feels around a little more. There seems to be a lot of fur, more fur than can be accounted for by only one animal. The poor thing isn’t moving, and Jeongguk wonders if he just witnessed it take its final breath. He feels unaccountably saddened by that thought.
“Alright puppy dog, sweet puppy dog, I’m just going to pull you out now so I can get a better look at you. Okay? Here we go. Nice and gentle.” This time, he reaches both hands into the aperture, wraps his arms around the furry bundle and slowly pulls it towards himself. As more and more of the animal is revealed, the sun’s fading rays seem to illuminate its fur. “Holy shit,” Jeongguk says on a breathy exhale.
Lying on the forest floor in front of him is a gorgeous silver-furred fox. The mud and whatever else is matted in its thick fur don’t dampen the way it shines with an otherworldly incandescence. This is no ordinary fox.
Breath caught in his throat, Jeongguk presses urgent yet careful fingers to the pulse point at the animal’s neck. There is movement there, but it’s slow, a sluggish thrumming of life. “Thank Sang-je and all the gods,” he whispers. He doesn’t think he can stand the thought of this beautiful creature no longer existing. Running his fingers over its appendages and body, he searches for injury or open wounds. Other than the fact that it’s legs don’t seem to be broken, he can’t tell much out here in the darkening forest.
“I’m taking you home with me.” The decision is made before he can debate the pros and cons. There’s no way he’s leaving it here to die. He sheaths his knife and gathers the unconscious fox into his arms. “Now, what am I going to do about the rest of my stuff?” he wonders out loud.
The fox, that probably isn’t a fox, weighs next to nothing, seeming to be mostly tail, so he drapes its head and neck over one shoulder, holding its body against his chest with an arm and letting its abundant tail hang down. Little huffs of breath that hit the nape of his neck from its nose and mouth reassure him that he isn’t just bringing a dead thing back to the dorm. “If I hold you like this, then I can…” He snags both pails in his other hand and looks forlornly at his fishing pole. “Nope, not going to be able to carry that, too.” Without analyzing his inclination to talk to the unconscious creature, he kicks his fishing pole off the trail and into the nearest bushes. Only a few people use this trail. His fishing pole should be safe and waiting for him to retrieve it in the morning. “Let’s just hope we don’t get attacked by a dokkaebi or I might have to drop you to get to my knife,” he tells the unresponsive fox as he sets off for home.
The hunter’s dorm where he lives is located just a little bit north of Yongam stronghold. It houses six groups of hunters. Usually, hunters form tight-knit squads that function as a cohesive unit because hunting alone is dangerous. Jeongguk lives with the three men who rescued him when he was only fifteen years old. The three brothers, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, and Kim Taehyung, basically raised him, even though they were not yet fully adults themselves at the time.
Its full dark by the time he reaches the dorm, a large brick building, three stories tall, one of the few remaining buildings of its size. Jeongguk has heard stories about buildings that used to reach as high as the sky. They’re all just piles of rumble nowadays.
Some of the windows glow softly from within, candlelit. A few others shine with the harsher light from electric lamps. Electricity is a luxury and is only used sparingly. The hunter dorms are wired for electricity, but most don’t use it for lighting when there are easier, more affordable ways of illuminating a space.
“We have to be careful, now. Can’t let anyone see you,” Jeongguk tells the limp animal. If any hunter other than his hyungs sees him entering the dorm with a gently luminous creature in his arms, they’ll surely kill it, no matter how beautiful it is. Hunters aren’t known for being especially tolerant of unnatural entities, seeing as how those entities are frequently malicious. Most hunters have devoted their lives to ridding the world of evil influences. They’d rather strike first and ask questions later.
“Hold still now.” He chuckles at his own joke. “I’m going to put you under my shirt.” The injured animal obeys and remains still as he puts down the pails and maneuvers its unresponsive body inside his shirt, flush against his stomach before picking the pails up again. He knows it would be a completely different matter if it was awake. His stomach would probably be nothing but ribbons from its sharp claws and teeth. What is he even doing, anyway, bringing a wild animal home with him?
He thanks his lucky stars that their apartment is on the first floor. It makes sneaking inside much simpler. Putting the pails down again, he unlocks the front door.
Seokjin is on him the moment he crosses the threshold. “Where have you been? Namjoon was on his way out the door to…find…you.” His words falter, gaze zeroed in on Jeongguk’s legs, or rather at the copious amounts of fur hanging down his leg. What in Mireuk’s creation is that?”
Jeongguk uses his foot to close the apartment door, and only once he’s positive it’s shut, does he reach under the hem of his shirt to pull out the fox, that is most assuredly not a fox, and cradles it protectively in his arms.
“Did you say something, Jin? Is Jeongguk back?” Namjoon comes striding down the hall that leads to their bedrooms, a flashlight in one hand and his quarter staff in the other. “Oh, you are back.” After one quick glance to determine that it is Jeongguk at the door, he turns around to prop his staff in the corner and put the flashlight back in the closet. The fact that Jeongguk has an animal in his arms must not register because Namjoon keeps talking without missing a beat. “Well, that’s a relief. You were supposed to be back ages ago. Tae’s been holding off cooking dinner, certain you’ll have tons of fish for us. Did you catch enough? Why were you so late?”
“Joon-ah, do you not see what he has?” Seokjin says in disbelief, pointing at the animal. “He has some kind of…what is that thing, anyway? Is it alive?”
Jeongguk begins inching towards his bedroom, his safe place.
Talking the hunter brothers into letting him keep and care for an injured animal of any kind is going to be a hard sell, and he knows it. This feels a lot like the time he brought a baby chick home from the market and asked if he could keep it, only this time is far worse because the animal he wants to keep is either a wild creature or it’s an unnatural monster. In either of those scenarios, it will in all likelihood end up eating them all in their sleep.
Only, he doesn’t think it will.
“I caught plenty of fish. It’s outside the door. In a pail. The berries are out there, too. I’m just gonna, um,” he continues backing up towards his bedroom. Namjoon and Seokjin are staring at him like he’s lost his mind. “It’s hurt. I have to take care of it.” He turns and flees down the hall to his room, well he runs as quickly as he can while making sure not to jostle his cargo. He knows he’s being childish, not acting his twenty-three years at all. He needs to face his hyungs like a man and tell them how important this is to him. He realizes, then, just how strongly he feels about making sure the fox/not fox lives.
Once in his room, he places the ball of matted fur and long, slender legs on his floor and turns on the lamp on his dresser. It’s times like these that he’s really grateful for the small allotment of electricity they’re given in the hunter dorm, otherwise, he might not be able to see well enough to diagnose and treat any wounds the creature has. Next, he pulls the blanket off his bad and fashions it into a soft nest. “Here you go,” he murmurs to the unconscious animal as he puts it inside the blanket nest. “Now, I’m going to check you for injuries. Be nice and don’t bite me, okay?”
He takes the lack of response as agreement.
The fur on its head is snow-white while the fur on its body and tail is silver-grey, gradually transmuting into black at the paws. Jeongguk runs a hand down its head to its side. He can easily feel its ribs which means it probably hasn’t eaten in a while. Its ribcage moves faintly up and down with its shallow breaths. The tail is extremely bushy. Even with all the tangles and caked in mud, it feels…weird, like there’s more than one. He takes a closer look. “What’s with your tail, huh? What do you have going on back here?”
With a sense of unease, like he’s being somehow inappropriate, he takes a handful of fur and moves it to the side, expecting to reveal the animals rear. But most of the tail is left behind. He takes another handful and moves it. Still, there’s more left behind. “What…” By feeling for the thin bones in the tail, he begins counting. “One…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight…nine. Nine tails.” A nine-tailed, silver fox that glows with a soft, ambient radiance. That can’t be normal.
A knock on the door precedes Namjoon’s voice. “Hey Gguk. Can I come in?”
Jeongguk is actually surprised it took him so long to come looking. It’s not like it was any secret where he’d gone.
Heaving a sigh, he says, “Sure.” There’s no point in putting off the inevitable.
Namjoon walks in, face serious. He’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and faded jeans, normal hunter attire, and Jeongguk is reminded that Namjoon had been getting ready to go into the forest at night to look for him because he was worried. “Can I take a look at what you found?”
Jeongguk nods, “Yes, you can look at it, but you have to promise that you won’t make any snap decisions. You gotta promise you’ll at least hear me out.”
“I promise.” Namjoon sits cross legged on the floor opposite him, the blanket nest and its contents between them. “It’s beautiful,” he says softly, almost reverently. “Do you know what it is?”
“No, not really. Just that it has nine tails and is injured or very sick.” Jeongguk looks up hopefully. “Do you know what it is? Or how to help it?” Namjoon is the bookworm of their hunting squad. He’s crazy smart and loves to research. If anyone has the answers, it’ll be him.
Eyebrows raised, Namjoon’s gaze darts to Jeongguk and then back down at the mysterious creature. “Nine tails? You’re sure it has nine?”
“Check for yourself.”
Namjoon does and amazement blooms on his face. “Dear Dalnim, can it be? Gguk-ah, this is…if this is what I think it is, you have to-” he cuts himself off and jumps to his feet. He rubs a hand over his chin, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know. I don’t know what you should do.” He starts breathing noisily through his nose.
It scares Jeongguk because he’s never seen Namjoon like this, like he’s about to have a panic attack. “What? What do you think it is? Tell me!”
Taehyung comes bouncing into the room before Namjoon can answer. “You caught so many fish, Ggukie. I knew you would. Dinner’s ready, come eat!”
“Not yet, Tae,” Namjoon waves him off, but Taehyung is not easily dissuaded once he’s made up his mind about something.
He looks down at the not-a-fox. “Oh yes, your poor injured beastie. There will be enough left over for you to feed it, too. Come on now, before dinner goes cold.” Taehyung bodily pushes Namjoon out the door and then gives Jeongguk a sympathetic look, his long black curls hanging to his shoulders. “Come. Eat. You must be starved. You can tell us the story of how you found it, and we’ll decide what to do about it together.”
Taehyung, often bubbly and wise-cracking, can also be surprisingly empathetic. He understands people, seems to know exactly what they need. He can have you laughing at his silly jokes one moment and telling him all your most deeply held secrets the next.
Jeongguk doesn’t like leaving the creature alone without determining what’s wrong with it first. He’s afraid it will be dead by the time he gets back. But Taehyung is right. They all need to talk about what’s to be done. They are a family, and this is an important decision that needs to be made together. They might as well eat while they talk.
He gets a cup of water from the bathroom and places it near the furry head. “Here’s some water. If you wake up, you can at least have a drink. I’ll be back soon with some food.” He gives it a few pats, wondering at the feel of the fur against his hand. Even covered in muck, it’s still silky. “Don’t die,” he tells it as he leaves his bedroom, closing the door behind himself.
Taehyung, Namjoon, and Seokjin are all sitting at the table in the kitchen where they eat their meals. No one is eating yet. They all look somber. Namjoon must have already told them what he knows.
The smell of fish fried in spices is strong in the air. The aroma would be appetizing at any other time, but right now, there’s a weight sitting in the pit of Jeongguk’s stomach, and he’s not hungry, even though he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast.
Jeongguk sits, feeling defensive at the way no one will meet his eyes. As if they’ve already made up their minds against anything he might have to say.
Taehyung jumps into action. “Well? Why are you all just sitting there? Let’s eat.” He spears a piece of fish and puts it on his own plate, adding a spoonful of rice and some kimchi.
Namjoon and Seokjin follow suit, but Jeongguk doesn’t move. His dread is mounting. Why he feels such attachment to an animal, one that he hasn’t even interacted with in a friendly manner, is beyond him. He is attached, though. Profoundly so.
It’s Seokjin who breaks the tense silence. As the oldest brother, it often falls to him to make the rules and keep the peace. “The faster we eat, the faster we can act on whatever we decide. Everyone gets a say in this. You know how it works.” He places his full plate in front of Jeongguk and begins filling another one for himself.
“Why does it feel like you’ve already made a decision?” Jeongguk asks.
“No one has made a decision about anything yet. How could we? We don’t have all the facts,” says Namjoon, always the practical one. “Tell us how you found it.” He takes a big bite of fish, chipmunk cheeks bulging, eyes on Jeongguk expectantly.
“Talk and eat at the same time, bunny.” Seokjin tells him. One of the benefits of living in a house with all boys is that no one cares about table manners.
It’s the nickname as much as it is the kind tone Seokjin uses that lifts the weight from his stomach, allowing him to start eating with gusto. Seokjin used to call him that when he first came to live with them. He said it was because Jeongguk looked like a timid bunny rabbit back then. He hasn’t used the nickname in a long time, but it reminds Jeongguk that he is loved. They may not be his brothers by blood, but they are his brothers in every other way that matters.
The tale of how he found and decided to bring the beautiful, unconscious animal home pours out of him in a torrent. He nearly chokes twice because he’s shoveling food into his mouth almost as quickly as the words flood out of him. When he’s done, he asks, “It’s not a monster is it? It doesn’t feel evil to me. But it’s obviously not a common fox.”
“Evil things don’t always look evil, Gguk-ah,” Taehyung says. “You know that.” He looks at Namjoon. “You examined it. Do you know what it is?”
“I wouldn’t say I examined it,” Namjoon prefaces. “But I did look at it, and Jeongguk is right, its not a common fox.” He puts his chopsticks down and rests his elbows on the table. “There is hunter lore about powerful beings that take the form of nine-tailed foxes. As far as I know, one has never been spotted in current times. The pictures I saw were in books from before The Cleansing. They seemed to be mere fantasy, make believe nonsense, but…”
“But that doesn’t mean they aren’t real now,” Seokjin finishes where Namjoon trails off. After the Mother of Monsters was awakened, all sorts of creatures thought to be nonexistent appeared in the world.
“Do you remember anything else about them? What they were capable of?” Jeongguk asks. He’s starting to get anxious. He’s been away for too long. He wants to get back to his room and check on his charge.
“All I remember is that they are beings tangled up in fate, and to see one heralds times of great portent,” Namjoon says as if reciting from a book.
“Well, I’d say it’s a little late to be a herald for calamitous times. Mother has been awake for fifty-three years already.” Seokjin scoffs.
“Who’s to say there aren’t even more momentous times to come?” Taehyung asks. He looks at Jeongguk through the mess of long bangs that fall over his eyes. “It came to you. This creature of fate. I think the decision of what to do with it should rest with you. What do you want to do, Jeongguk?”
He doesn’t give his answer a second’s thought. “I want to help it. I want to find out what’s wrong with it and make it better. It doesn’t mean us any harm. It’s good. I can feel it.”
Namjoon nods and closes his eyes like he’s resigning himself to something he’s not entirely sure is practical or honorable, his two abiding tenets. “I’ll dig around and see if I can find that old book again. Maybe there’s more information that I don’t remember reading.”
“You’ll have to be careful. No one else can know you have it,” Seokjin warns. “Tell no one. If any of the other hunters find out about it, they’ll kill it.”
A rush of gratitude washes over him like a warm rainfall. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He stands up, nearly tripping over his chair in his hurry to hug each of his hyungs. “I’ll be careful.”
Taehyung hands him the platter of left over fried fish. “Here, Jeonggukie see if it will eat this.”
Jeongguk takes the platter with a small bow and jogs back to his room.
One hand holding the platter and the other on the doorknob, he opens the door and steps inside. Words of greeting die on his lips because the fox is no longer unconscious. Its awake and looking at him warily.