Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“The world began in silence.

“A vast, all-encompassing silence that absorbed everything. It gripped at stars and planets, snuffing out any sound that dared to exist. Reality itself was silent and no one dared to challenge that.”

Gunil listened to his mother’s words with wide eyes, nodding for her to continue. By now he knew it off by heart, begging to hear it each night before bed, but it had never once lost its mystery. The story spoke to him, each individual word catching his attention. It was easily Gunil’s favourite story.

“The silence, this Abyss, was a terrifying being. It was not a god, nor a creature, nor a force. It was something completely different. The Abyss was as its name suggested - a nothingness hungry for sound. It devoured any notes it came into contact with. Consumed any whisper. Nothing could compete against the power this Abyss held.

“Nothing except music. The Order of Music was called forth, a group of six powerful musicians to stand against the enemy of silence. The chosen six embodied the soul of music, each demonstrating a different aspect.

“Echeion was the Guardian of Tempo. He was the group’s leader, guiding them with a steady hand and heart. He believed at its core, music was reliant on time and pacing, that without it everything would crumble apart. Echeion was a strong willed man, an anchor for the Guardians working under his command. He was like a metronome, guiding them all through, ever strong and ever sure. He was the Keeper of Rhythm.

“Hymnara was the Guardian of Resonance. She kept herself covered, veiled in shimmering white material. She was rumoured to be the daughter of a goddess, the beauty of both her voice and her face unmatched throughout the whole world. Hymnara would sing songs, carrying them through generations and letting their meanings reverberate around inside people. It is said that if you listen closely, you can still hear her humming today. She was the Designer of Soundscapes.

“Voltis was the Guardian of Energy. He was known to be loud and bold, never once fearing away from anything. He was impulsive and became a bit of a recurring headache for Echeion. Voltis was often compared to a bolt of lightning, zapping down to earth and hypnosing anyone in view. He masterfully controlled the intensity of his own sound, able to move from the gentlest whisper to mightiest crescendo in the same moment. He was the Wielder of Lightning Chords.

“Prophetis was the Guardian of Foresight. She saw music before it was played and danced to tunes that had yet to be written. She was a calm and measured person, her mind caught between the present and the future, folding in on itself as she spoke with centuries of untapped knowledge. Prophetis was also known to speak in riddles, her sentences laced with unsolved meanings. She was the Seer of the Future Note.

“Melodion was the Guardian of Harmony. She was the balancer of sound and souls, weaving disharmony together to create songs of friendship and love. She was known to look for the melodies locked away in the hearts of even the most evil people. Melodion believed everyone deserves a second chance, another shot at being fair and kind. She had taken up the job of peacemaking, both throughout the world and within the six Guardians. She was the Illusionist of Melody.

“Noctessa was the Guardian of Depth. She was caught between the waves of the ocean, embodying the natural music and depths it holds. His gender flowed like the tides, masculinity and femininity pulling and pushing constantly against each other. Noctessa was well known for their gender diverse image and their ever changing moods. Just like the ocean, she constantly found herself dipping between hyper-enthusiasm and a rolling sense of calmness. His words held depth and his actions shone with meaning. They were the Titan of Reverberation.

“These six Guardians - the Order of Music - embarked on their quest to defeat the Abyss, following hidden clues across the world. They each completed the Trials of Sound, proving themselves and their abilities. Each trial earned them a stone and a singular music note. They pieced these notes together, creating a musical key to unlock the door to the World of Music - the realm where all sound is created.

“The Abyss was waiting for them there, having settled right in the middle of this world. A battle against the most formidable of opponents lay ahead of the Guardians. Echeion was calling out orders, using his abilities to pace the battle and their attacks. Hymnara was singing out loud, using her vocals to strike the Abyss. Voltis was running back and forth, calling down lightning strikes and thunder claps. Prophetis was watching their victory unfold before it even happened. Noctessa was sending shockwaves of force through the air, waves upon waves of power flowing against their opponent.

“Victory was won, but throughout it all the Guardians argued.

“They argued and argued, going against each other and never quite listening. Their attacks rung with disharmony, creating an unmatched, unsatisfying sound. While they managed to defeat the Abyss and save music, they also destroyed a part of themselves along the way.

“Melodion watched on in horror. Her heart broke more with each spiteful word, shattering with each scoff and hateful sigh. The harmony that ran through her pulsed with weakness and all she could do was watch it all happen.

“Even once the spell was cast and the seal was placed, Melodion felt like they hadn’t quite vanquished their enemy like they were supposed to. Through their squabbling, the seal they had cast was weaker than it should have been.

“The others split off, going their own separate ways, but Melodion did not. She stayed close by, waiting for the moment when their seal would break and the Abyss would return. When she died, she cast her soul into a new body, continuing to monitor the seal. It became a cycle; live, die, find someone new, live die, find someone new. She existed as a passenger, her soul degrading more with each new host joined. She became a shadow of who she once was, nothing more than a distant memory.

“She sacrificed herself just to watch over the seal, waiting and waiting for the two bells to ring, signaling that the seal has been broken.”

Gunil had heard this story a hundred times, and even now it never failed to send shivers of fear and adrenaline down his spine. He wondered where Melodion was now.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Hyeongjun was thirteen when the first bell rang. It was an incredible phenomenon no scientist could explain. One ‘ding’ ringing out across the entire planet. It was instantaneous, lasting barely five seconds before it faded away, leaving everyone baffled.

It was a talking point, everyone making their own theories as to what it could mean. Some people believed it was a sign from God, others said it was a government experiment to see how people would react.

Hyeongjun realised as he grew up that others considered it strange he didn’t really care what had caused the bell. But it was true, he genuinely couldn’t care less about it. The bell had rung when he needed it, and that seemed to be the most important thing to him.

“Hey, Hyeongjun!” one of his friends cried, slinging an arm around the kid’s shoulders. It was lunch time, the field crawling with students running around and playing with their friends.

Hyeongjun usually spent his breaks sitting off to the side. When he was younger, he loved playing on the playground and digging holes in the dirt, but in the more recent years he had begun to feel the full weight of society and adulthood bearing down on him, despite only just being thirteen.

His friends had noticed it too. Some of them had stopped talking to him, deciding that the effort they needed to put in was becoming too much. Others, like Jihyun, had stayed close, putting extra energy into their friendship. Hyeongjun considered Jihyun to be his best friend. He hoped the other thought the same.

“Hey, Jihyun,” Hyeongjun smiled politely in return, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at his friend.

“What are you doing?” he asked, gazing down at the school books laid out in front of the boy. They were decorated in stickers, arrangements of different flowers and little metallic stars.

Hyeongjun let out an embarrassed laugh, collecting his books up into a pile. “Just a bit of homework,” he explained. “I was falling behind in maths so I wanted to catch up a bit.”

“Ugh,” Jihyun complained, playfully hitting his shoulder. “C’mon Hyeongjun-ah! Let’s go play a game! Lunchtime is for playing, not school work.”

A girl across the field shrieked, her friend dashing after her - it looked like tag. Her shout was loud and piercing, making Hyeongjun jump. He paused, taking a breath to calm his heart. He was always oversensitive lately, his head feeling dizzy constantly. “I’m sorry, Jihyun-ah,” he explained politely, “but I can’t play today. I need to get this work done.”

As a kid, Hyeongjun never had the words to properly express his feelings to his friends. And even if he had, there was no guarantee they would even understand. Existing as himself was always going to be difficult, he realised when he was young. Hyeongjun stared off into the distance, his vision swelling as the sea of students moved back and forth like the tides pulled by the moon.

“Oh, okay,” Jihyun sighed, pulling himself to his feet. “I’m going to see Minhyoon, so I’ll see you at the assembly then.”

Assembly.

Hyeongjun felt his skin crawl at the thought. Exiting during lunch break was one thing, but existing during an assembly was an entirely different matter. There were people talking over speakers, loud choirs of school songs, awards with echoes of clapping. He would flinch at every shout, squeeze his eyes closed when the stage lights flashed. It was always too much.

He shook the thought away, doing his best to focus on his studies. Someone laughed a bit too loudly, their squeaky cackle bringing tears to poor young Hyeongjun’s eyes.

The bell rang soon, signalling break was over and it was time for class once again. Hyeongjun felt unwell as he shuffled with his class towards the hall. Jihyun stood beside him, chatting about something Hyeongjun didn’t really care about. He was too busy reminding himself which way was up and which was down. If he didn’t, he feared he would collapse.

He already felt the intrusive level of noise as his class wandered into the hall. Students were seated in rows, facing the main stage. He felt a bit dizzy, staring around at all the people. Jihyun pulled Hyeongjun down beside him, something he was secretly grateful for. His legs had decided to stop working and he would probably have ended up standing for the whole thing if Jihyun hadn’t forced him to sit.

Assemblies thankfully only happened once a term, but that was still too much for Hyeongjun. All the notices and awards could be given out in class, he would grumble. His friends would agree, but always noted how much they loved whole school singing.

Hyeongjun hated whole school singing.

“Students,” the principal declared, her smile wide and toothy. Mrs Hye was an older woman, her curly hair slowly greying. She had a warm tone to her voice - the same one Hyeongjun’s grandparents often spoke with - and a matching sense of style. She always wore rough browns and sunlit yellows, styled into a jacket and skirt. Despite running horrifying assemblies, Hyeongjun had always liked her and enjoyed the few times they spoke. “Thank you for coming to this week’s assembly. We have a lot of important notices to discuss. But first, we will start with a song.”

There was a ripple of chatter from the students, a murmur of excitement. Excitement for what, Hyeongjun wasn’t sure. He just ducked his head, trying to focus on his palms instead. He had lots of lines running along them, decorating his fingers and trailing across the expanse of his palm. The skin was a delicate honey colour, shining in the sun rays that spilt down out of the hall’s high windows.

There was a click as the projector powered on, presenting a slide of lyrics before everyone. Hyeongjun didn’t look up. He couldn’t bring himself to. Jihyun was beaming beside him, bobbing just slightly as the music started up.

Booming through the speakers, the voiceless backing track had a heavy bass line that reverberated through Hyeongjun. It was enough to make his teeth chatter. The hall desperately needed new speakers, ones that could handle the ridiculous amount of bass that the teachers seemed to want to play.

Hyeongjun had to stop himself from covering his ears as the school started to sing. It was loud and oppressive, the noise forcing its way down on Hyeongjun, gripping his heart tightly. The room spun as he stared down at his trembling hands.

At first the bell was almost unnoticeable. The sound of it was obscured, lost amongst the out of tune choir and the echoing bass. But Hyeongjun felt it. He felt himself synchronise with it, felt his soul connect almost like he himself was a tuning fork.

His body shivered as he finally looked up, curious to see if anyone else felt it. A few people blinked around, but mostly no one else did. He realised quickly he was the only one who truly felt it resonate within him, felt it shoot through his limbs and spill into his mind.

Hyeongjun felt how his fear washed away. He felt a heavy sigh of acceptance fall from his lips. Jihyun looked happy singing. His friends and peers looked happy. And suddenly, Hyeongjun did too. He wasn’t quite able to bring himself to sing along, but he did listen, finally understanding how there was a certain element of beauty woven throughout it all.

Hyeongjun smiled, letting himself enjoy the one thing he believed he would never be able to.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Kwak Jiseok loved school trips. The bus trips there and back, the lunches his parents would pack him, the absolute thrill of being in a whole new location. It was brilliant. All of it.

As a thirteen year old, bus trips always made him giddy with excitement. He loved sitting beside his friends and pointing at things outside the windows. He loved those silly ‘bus conversations’ they always had, everyone practically buzzing thinking about what was to come.

So when Jiseok was assigned to sit next to Hyunseok, the ‘weird kid’, saying he was disappointed would be an understatement. Of course, Jiseok was never the type of person to judge someone based on if they were ‘weird’ or not.

He hated that word. It was so judgemental and dismissive. If someone was too much or too little of anything they were considered to be different. How could you be perfect all the time? How was it fair? And who made the rules? Who decided when it was too much or not enough? Jiseok had never understood. It was one of those much too thin lines that confused him.

He knew he was a lot. He knew he was also too little. The gap between shyness and noisiness was too close. Some of his friends would mumble it when they thought he wasn’t listening. “Oh, Jiseok is so loud today. It’s so weird.” “He’s too quiet, that’s so weird.” It was an endless cycle, a balance he couldn’t quite perfect.

Whoever invented all of those silly rules was definitely on Jiseok’s ‘severely dislike forever’ list. He didn’t love the idea of hating anyone, instead focusing on severely disliking. The list included one of his uncles, a couple of bullies, his teacher from last year, a few celebrities he found annoying, whoever invented homework, and, depending on how he was feeling, his older brother.

He slumped down in the seat beside Hyunseok. The kid sniffled loudly, barely reacting to Jiseok and instead just staring blankly out the window. ‘Oh, this is going to be a long trip,’ Jiseok thought to himself as he looked back over his shoulder at his friends. They were already laughing loudly, none of them even looking in his direction.

The bus’ engine started with a rumble, the vibration shooting through the vehicle and settling in Jiseok’s chest. He shivered, not particularly loving the way his body shook in time. It was easier to handle once they stopped idling and started driving, the trembling became less intense and focused. He flinched every time they stopped at the lights or slowed for traffic.

Beside him, Hyunseok looked over with a frown on his lips. “Does the bus stopping scare you?” he asked, his emotionless eyes boring into Jiseok’s.

He felt his ears burn, brushing a hand through his hair quickly in an attempt to hide them. “No. I just don’t like the vibrations is all.”

Hyunseok nodded stiffly, turning silently back towards the window. The whole interaction felt… Well, honestly it felt weird, as much as he hated the word. With a sigh, Jiseok glanced back over his shoulder at his friends. They were clearly enjoying themselves. One of his friends caught his eye, waving in his direction with a wide smile. Jiseok forced his own smile, waving back.

He felt uncomfortable and alone, stuck with Hyunseok. The whole trip was only an hour and a half, but for Jiseok’s racing mind it felt like forever. He checked his watch every few moments, disappointed to see how little time had passed.

“You’re not going to make time go faster by staring at the clock,” Hyunseok said suddenly. It was obvious and Jiseok had to hold his tongue before he grumbled his rather rude thoughts aloud. “You need to focus on something else.”

“What else is there to focus on?” Jiseok groaned, dropping his head back against the seat. “This trip is so boring and I don’t have anyone to talk to!” He looked back at his friends again. He had to stop doing that.

Hyunseok hesitated before he reached down between the seats. He was known for always having a puzzle in his hands. He seemed to always be fiddling with a different small brain teasing game, wriggling pieces and attempting to undo the twisted amalgamation before him. And suddenly Jiseok could see where he kept them all.

Hyunseok had a reasonably big bag school. It always seemed to sag and jingle while he walked. He never brought his books out from it, carrying them in another small tote bag. His school bag seems to just be for show.

Jiseok stared down at the mountain of tiny games that were revealed inside. There were metal games, plastic games, wooden games. Games of every colour. Small games, large games. Creations of munted design, pieces interlocked so perfectly you wouldn’t believe they could even come apart.

Reaching inside, Hyunseok produced a small, fit-in-your-palm sized metal cube. “Here,” he said simply. “Undo it.” He dropped it onto Jiseok’s hand, before zipping up his bag and turning back towards the window.

The cube was cool to touch, crafted from a few different shaped pieces pressed together. Jiseok pursed his lips, glancing back once more at his friends. He supposed the cube looked easy enough to undo. If Hyunseok was able to do that many, surely they couldn’t be too difficult.

He tugged at the first piece, surprised when it didn’t budge. He tugged at another. This one did move, slipping sideways just slightly, but it was caught on the first piece. The third piece slid slightly further, but once again was stopped in its tracks. Jiseok squinted at the object. How was this possible?

He shook off his confusion, yanking at the pieces harder this time. The cube stayed in a relatively cube-shaped shape for the rest of the trip. Pieces wiggled and stuttered, but never slipped free. At some point Hyunseok stopped staring out the window, instead turning to watch him struggle against the metal game.

Half way through trying to spin one of the pieces,  Jiseok felt a hand tap at his shoulder. He jumped, ripping his attention away from the game in his hands. Hyunseok was smirking at him, his face framed by a still image. Thick dark clouds, a fresh green field lined with tall trees.

Jiseok’s senses suddenly honed back into the world around him, like he was only now waking up. The bus was still and students were piling off. Teachers yelled out instructions, ushering everyone along.

“You can keep the game,” Hyunseok said, voice hot in Jiseok’s ear. “I’ve completed it a hundred times already. I don’t need it anymore.”

Jiseok stared back at him, the blank look in Hyunseok’s eyes sending shivers down his spine. “Okay,” he replied, grabbing his bag and joining the queue of students before him. Hyunseok was definitely… strange. Not ‘weird’, but definitely not ‘normal’ either.

He put the game in his pocket, letting it roll around between his fingers. He had never done a game like this before, and even as he reconnected with his friends, the impossible square sat in the back of his mind, tugging constantly at his attention.

The teachers gathered them around on the field, dividing them into groups to do their activities in. The rain clouds above them waited ominously, cutting away any sunlight that tried to slip through. All the adults kept glancing up nervously.

And then a lot happened all together. Jiseok’s hand slipped into his pocket again, holding the metal game tightly in his fist. He wanted to get the day over quickly so he could dedicate more time to figuring out what the silly cube wanted him to do.

A thin sheet of rain drops began to drizzle down, speeding up slowly in their descent. More and more came crashing down, covering the whole field and drenching all the students and teachers.

But before anyone could even react, a strike of lightning came shooting down from the sky. It glowed a brilliant yellow, striking a tree only a few hundred meters away from the students. People shrieked as the thunder boomed through the area.

Through the thunder, Jiseok swore he heard something else. Something like the ringing of a bell, echoing across the space and lodging itself inside him. He felt his body freeze for a moment, a crackle of energy pulsing within him. It was almost as if the lightning itself had taken up residence in his chest.

There was a crackle and the metal cube in his pocket suddenly shocked him. Jiseok pulled his hand away, yelping in pain as the game attacked back, electricity and adrenaline shooting through his body. The game went tumbling out of his pocket, landing heavily on the grass. It sat there, the smooth metal gathering water droplets.

Someone - probably a teacher, judging by the strength - grabbed Jiseok’s arm, dragging him back towards the bus shelters. He tried to wiggle free, but he was trapped in an iron grip. His game was gone, left to the clutches of the field and the rain and the lightning.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

‘He must do this because he’s a boy.’

‘She must do that because she’s a girl.’

The whole thing made Jungsu feel sick. While he was only fourteen, Jungsu knew life revolved around more than gender. Why was he supposed to be pinned down by stereotypes? Why couldn’t he forge his own path?

The only time those imposed restrictions seemed to fall away was when he sang. When music flowed through him and when he felt this swirling calmness emanating through his body. In those moments he wasn’t particularly a boy. He wasn’t particularly anything really. Just a forge for melody.

But then the song would end and he would be forced back to the harsh reality around him. It was a horrible feeling, like ripping off a band aid. The way his stomach would drop when he was dragged back to the real world.

He saw the divide in everything. The subtle differences in the way his parents treated him and his sister, the way his female classmates were told slightly different things to him. But most of all, he saw it in the way his own male classmates treated females. He knew some men did horrible things towards women, and while his classmates weren’t anywhere near that level of bad, they still said and did things that made Jungsu’s skin crawl.

He supposed it was worse for the girls, but he had always been very good at standing in their shoes. He supposed that probably had something to do with his sexuality. (Another thing the guys in his class weren’t exactly welcoming towards.)

Even at fourteen years of age, Jungsu knew he liked boys. He was proud to say he had even kissed one. Last year he and another boy had been hanging out together after school on the river bank. They had ducked behind a tree, sharing an awkward kiss, both blushing brightly. Unfortunately that boy had moved away, leaving Jungsu to fend for himself.

Despite being gay, Jungsu had always admired women. The way they grew their hair and wore such beautiful clothing. The way they dusted their faces with makeup and painted their nails. In the back of his mind, Jungsu wished he could be like them. That boys would stop and look as he walked past without it being ‘gay’. That he could dress in a pleated skirt and paint his own nails without being called names.

Jungsu wished more than anything that he could be a girl. He would always deflate at the memory of his own body and of the expectations it came with. Sometimes he would lie awake in bed and replay situations from his day as if he were a girl. He would smile daintily and brush his hair back from his eyes. He would play the lead actress in plays and giggle and chat with the other girls about celebrities and fashion trends.

“Junghee,” he said one day, calling to his sister, “what’s it like being a girl?”

She was caught off guard, blinking up at him from her homework. “Why do you want to know?” was her original answer.

Jungsu wasn’t really sure himself, raising his shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m just curious,” he mumbled, fiddling with his pen between his fingers. The books in front of him were boring as per usual, and the question had been rolling around in his mind for weeks now.

Junghee, never the type of person to tease when she could see something was serious, studied her brother quietly for a moment before asking gently, “are you trying to impress a girl?”

His reaction was immediate. Almost choking on his own saliva, Jungsu stared up at her with wide eyes. “No, no!” he gasped, shocked that her mind had gone to that. “I-I’m… Well, I’m actually gay.” He ducked his head, realising for the first time that his identity wasn’t quite as obvious to his family than it was to his classmates. He had always assumed they knew.

“Oh,” Junghee blinked. She paused, thinking. “That actually does make sense looking back. I just didn’t pick up on it.”

He flinched, face screwing up as he remembered the way he would blush when male characters were shirtless on TV or the way he was always a lot more feminine than the other guys. The way he would blink in surprise when people mentioned him dating girls, as if he forgot it was an option entirely. It occurred to him sometimes that he payed way too much attention to girls around him for someone who wasn’t even attracted to them. It was a thought he quickly shook off.

“So you want to know about being a girl?” Junghee clarified, raising an eyebrow. “Just for the sake of knowledge?”

Unsure how else to word it, Jungsu nodded. It was one of those things that he just supposed he was interested in. People were born with interests in maths and science, or politics and history. Perhaps he was born with an interest in the female experience? The thought sounded silly even to him, but he wasn’t sure how else to even begin explaining it.

The way his stomach churned and twisted, he knew deep down this was something more than an unexplainable interest. Jungsu felt the way his heart ached when he looked at the girls in his class. The way he sighed when he watched his little sister doing her makeup. He wasn’t attracted to girls in the same way he was to boys, so why did they catch his attention so strongly?

Jungsu was beyond relieved when choir practice rolled around. He needed a break - a moment to exist merely as a concept rather than a physical being able to succumb to stereotypes and overwhelming thoughts. He sat comfortably in the seats, watching the music teacher Mrs Hoon call everyone to attention.

The choir was mostly girls, only a few guys dotted around the seats. Everyone at his school was required to do at least one extra curricular activity. Most guys chose sports, leaving the more artsy activities for the girls. While Jungsu liked sports, he loved singing even more, so his decision about what activity to take up was easy.

Mrs Hoon counted them in as they began to sing out one of their most well rehearsed songs. It was a beautiful and traditional old Korean ballad, one they sung acapella without any backing music. It was always a good warm up song, giving the student aid time to que up the tracks for the other songs they would be singing.

Jungsu closed his eyes as he sang, letting the words fall easily from his lips. His voice carried the melody effortlessly, mouth forming around each word and sound. He felt safe, he felt at home, letting each new note carry him further and further from his complicated reality.

At first, he thought the bell was a school bell ringing out of time, but the sound was much too delicate for that. It rang once, leaving an echo in its wake. Jungsu felt it within him, settling in his soul and mind. It swirled in his voice box, resonating out with his own voice.

His eyes fluttered open, met with the comforting sight of his classmates singing. A few of them stared around, clearly confused by the bell that had just sounded, but most hadn’t really noticed. If the sound hadn’t wormed its way deep inside Jungsu’s chest, he probably wouldn’t have noticed either.

A girl a few rows ahead of Jungsu looked back over her shoulder, a frown evident on his expression. She was looking to see what caused the bell, but her eyes caught Jungsu’s for a moment through the crowd. She didn’t really react, looking away and turning back to face forward, but in that instant Jungsu’s entire world shattered.

She was clearly a very beautiful girl, but that was never what grabbed his attention. It was the envy he felt. It was the ache, the ‘why can’t I be like you?’ that crept up inside him. That resonate feeling that had settled inside him moved to his stomach, as if trying to comfort him. Jungsu choked slightly on the words of the song as it occurred to him for the first time. ‘I never had an interest in female experience. I wanted to be one.’

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Seungmin had no shortage of friends. He wasn’t exactly popular, but he was outgoing and loud. He introduced himself to all the new students, waving at them with wide smiles and excited eyes. He sat with people when they looked sad, doing his best to cheer them up.

Because of this, most people associated happy memories with Seungmin - the one who greeted them when they were struggling. Associations like this always turned into a good reputation. That was probably why Principal Kim decided that Seungmin should be the one to show around their newest student.

Park Jinwoo was a shy kid, peering out from behind his parents when Seungmin entered the office. He barely made a squeak when he was introduced. Even as his parents waved goodbye and slipped away back out the main doors, he just watched them go with wide eyes.

Seungmin didn’t mind shy people. He was usually pretty good with them. His issue was how unreceptive Jinwoo was. No matter what Seungmin said, no matter how many jokes he cracked or how widely he smiled, nothing seemed to make Jinwoo feel better.

The pair were almost halfway around the school, tour edging towards the end, and Jinwoo was just as closed off as he had been earlier that day. Seungmin felt at a loss. He forced his smile wider, pointing out the science classrooms.

Nothing seemed to work. And so, Seungmin gave up. He dropped down onto one of the benches there, leaving enough room for Jinwoo to sit beside him. The kid seemed to consider it for a few moments before he gave in and perched on the edge of the seat.

Seungmin let out a breathy laugh. “You’re pretty quiet,” he said after a moment. “That’s okay. I don’t mind, you don’t have to say anything. But can you at least tell me what your favourite subject is? Do you play games? What’s your favourite game? Tell me something, anything. Please?”

Jinwoo hesitated, thinking his words though. He seemed to be the sort of person who thought everything through thoroughly before he acted. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then finally opened it again. “I like dancing,” he said simply.

That definitely wasn’t something Seungmin had pictured the boy doing, but he smiled encouragingly anyway. “Oh, yeah? What sort of dancing?”

The corners of Jinwoo’s lips curled upwards. Seungmin was having a silent celebration in his mind. “Hip hop mostly. I can’t sing, but if I could I would probably want to be an idol…” his voice trailed off and he ducked his head. Seungmin could understand. While he didn’t really ever seem to experience crushes the same as his classmates, he understood when someone was attractive. Jinwoo had a good facial structure and was definitely an attractive guy. He would have made all of his fans swoon - male or female.

“Which is your favourite singer?” Seungmin asked. “I like EXO a lot myself.” He had been following them loosely for a couple of years now, dancing to their songs in his bedroom when no one was looking. He wouldn’t say he was a great dancer, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

Jinwoo didn’t pause to think this time. He just smiled widely, his cheeks glowing as he announced, “I like SHINee. I’ve been following them since their debut. My older sister got me into them.”

One of Seungmin’s cousins was a massive Shawol. Usually her constant chatter about the band was irritating, but today Seungmin suddenly felt grateful for her. “Oh yeah? Who is your favourite?”

“Definitely Jonghyun. I mean, I love them all, but Jjong just carries himself differently to the others. He’s just so… nice and supportive. He really does genuinely care and I think that’s so beautiful.” Jinwoo’s eyes were so soft, shining with emotion. It was the most he had said yet and that in itself caused butterflies of happiness to congregate in Seungmin’s stomach.

For a moment, his mind slipped away from the conversation, honing in on the butterflies. Whenever he asked his friends to describe what a crush felt like, they described a flurry of butterflies surging around their stomach, threatening to break free. They described giddiness and happiness - just being in the person’s presence was enough.

Seungmin wondered, and not for the first time, ‘is this a crush? Am what I am experiencing right now a crush?’ But he knew it wasn’t. It never was. He didn’t seem to like anyone. He wasn’t straight, he wasn’t even gay. His head always spun, a deep fracture settling even deeper inside his heart. Jinwoo was attractive… Perhaps Seungmin could convince himself to fall for him?

He imagined it for a moment; how their hands would brush as they walked, how they would go out for dinner or watch a movie, how they would share a small kiss at the end. Seungmin felt sick. He didn’t want that. Not with anyone. That realisation always made him feel sad, an ever present reminder that he was broken. Somehow, somewhere along the way he had shattered just slightly. It hurt but he supposed it was the truth. Seungmin was just a little bit broken.

He shook away his internal monologue, an action that had become slowly more and more common. They were only thirteen, and yet all of his friends seemed fixated on ‘who likes who’ and ‘when are you going to get your first girlfriend?’

Seungmin had no shortage of friends, and yet he felt so alone.

He spent more and more time with Jinwoo, taking the new boy under his wing and helping through his first few months. They grew close quickly, bonding over different bands they followed and a mutual love of certain TV shows.

But, of course, to his ever obsessed friends, Seungmin’s way of loving his friends always looked a bit too similar to crush, and so the questions came not too long after the pair started growing closer.

“So what? Are you two dating, or-?” Hanjae asked, sliding down into the chair across from the pair. They were leant in close, laughing over a little doodle Seungmin had left in between the lines of Jinwoo’s workbook.

Seungmin opened his mouth to reply - probably to tell Hanjae to leave them alone -  but Jinwoo beat him to it. “Oh,” he said, his ears burning red, “I don’t like anyone.”

Both Seungmin and Hanjae blinked at him. “You mean you don’t have a crush?” Hanjae repeated.

Jinwoo shook his head, turning back towards his book to add another like doodle monster. “Sort of. I mean I don’t like anyone. Ever. Never have, never want to.” Despite how soft his voice was, Jinwoo’s words sounded sure. Like he knew who he was and didn’t need anyone to tell him otherwise.

Seungmin felt himself smile. He had never considered the idea that he was enough on his own, but listening to how calm and sure Jinwoo sounded, it brought a feeling of contentment to him he hadn’t experienced before.

Hanjae looked like he had more he wanted to ask, but he was cut off. A deep, resonant bell rang through the classroom. It wasn’t their school bell and it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Seungmin stared around, feeling the sound rattle his insides. He swallowed, feeling restricted as if the soundwaves themselves were forcing themselves against his body.

His mind echoed, singing in a perfect yet mind melding key. This had happened before, Seungmin realised slowly. Or, perhaps it was about to happen again? The overwhelming feeling of déjà vu creeping up his spine. He wasn’t sure what it was pertaining to, but the feeling stayed with him for the next few hours, underlying all of his words and movements.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Mandatory school swimming lessons at the public pool was quite possibly the worst class to ever exist, Jooyeon had decided. At thirteen years of age and having never ended up in a situation where he could have drowned, he couldn’t possibly think of any scenarios he would put himself in where it would be needed.

He didn’t have any plans to get on a boat. He didn’t often travel to the beach, but when he did he preferred to build sandcastles instead of swimming. Lee Jooyeon didn’t need swimming lessons.

And yet there he was, standing awkwardly in the doorway to the men’s changing room. Most of the time that didn’t bother him - the actual changing part - but today it did. That was the thing about Jooyeon. Some days he felt incredibly comfortable doing something, and the next he didn’t. Last week changing had been a breeze, but today it felt like he was trudging through mud, physically dragging himself across the damp, tiled floor.

He dropped his bag down onto one of the wooden benches, tucking himself as tightly into the corner as possible. The guys around him looked confident as usual, laughing loudly and making jokes. A few male teachers positioned just outside the door called for them to quieten down and hurry up.

The air was thick with chlorine, burning Jooyeon’s lungs with each intake. He felt short of oxygen already, nowhere near the pools themselves. He wondered briefly if he could pretend to be sick, dodging the lesson and getting the rest of the day off school, but the thought quickly passed. No teacher would believe him now, it was too obvious he was just trying to get out of the lesson.

With shaking hands, he peeled off his shirt, the warm air of the room feeling sticky against his newly exposed skin. Days like this left a nagging feeling of discomfort wriggling through him. Jooyeon felt like his skin was too tight, wrapped uncomfortably around his bones.

It felt like everyone was staring, their eyes locked on his thin back. Like their laughs were directed at him. His mind echoed, funneling through more and more horrible thoughts. He pulled his rash shirt on quickly, doing his best to shake them away. Most guys didn’t wear a shirt at all. On days where he felt comfortable, Jooyeon didn’t either, but he couldn’t imagine it on days like today. Jooyeon felt uncomfortable, shifting the too-tight fabric of the shirt and choking back a gag. He wasn’t sure why some days his reactions to the mundane were so visceral.

Jooyeon removed his pants next, moving as quickly as he could to minimise the amount of time people would have been able to see his bare skin. He pulled his swim shorts on at lightning speed, only letting out the breath he was holding once they were secure.

A hand landed roughly on his shoulder. “You’re changing fast today Jooyeonie. What’s the rush?” Jiwon asked. He was one of Jooyeon’s friends. The pair were close, and though his words were only meant to tease, they sent a shiver of hurt through Jooyeon’s body.

He tried to laugh it off, packing his clothes back into his bag. “Just excited to swim,” he lied.

Jiwon scoffed, slapping a hand against Jooyeon’s back. “Sure, Lee Jooyeon, excited to swim. I’ll believe that.” His words were sarcastic, holding a high level of disbelief, but he didn’t push it. Jiwon just turned away, giving Jooyeon room.

He tucked his bag under his arm, adjusted his shirt once more, grimacing as it tightened back into place, before he made his way out of the changing room. One of his other friends, Kyungsoo, followed him out. “Jooyeon! Wait up!” he called, jogging over as fast as he could on the wet tiles. “I heard we’re gonna be doing diving challenges today. Sounds fun, right?”

Jooyeon pursed his lips, suppressing a groan. Diving sounded terrible. “Yeah, sounds alright. I’m excited to go home though.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes, smiling fondly at the younger. “Of course you are. Why am I not surprised?”

Dropping his bag down on one of the poolside benches, Jooyeon stopped to watch some of the female students as they filtered out of their changing room. They were students of the sister school paired to his own all boys high school. The two groups joined together at the pool for swimming classes, as well as doing other things together such as joint choir, balls and dances throughout the year, and sports day.

Jooyeon wasn’t staring at the girls out of lust, or anything like that. Yes, Jooyeon considered himself just as attracted to girls as he did boys (something he hadn’t quite managed to tell anyone yet) but on days like this he watched the girls with more envy than anything. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he supposed it was the way they held themselves with a confidence he couldn’t quite muster.

Once everyone was out of the changing rooms and settled on the poolside benches, Jooyeon’s teacher Mr Jang began to bark out the usual swimming rules. He split them off into groups of five, sending them each off with a different instructor.

Jooyeon’s group included himself, his two friends Jiwon and Kyungsoo, as well as two girls, Sora and Eunji. Their instructor, a nice man named Seojin, called them all over to the edge of the pool. After introducing himself, he held up a few coloured pool toys. “I want you to throw these into the water from the side. Not too far, just a light throw like this,” he demonstrated what he meant, throwing his red crab into the water. “And then I want you to dive in after it. Once you grab it, swim back to the top and the next person will have a go. Any questions?”

Kyungsoo was practically buzzing, immediately volunteering to go first. Jooyeon made his way to the back of the line, fiddling with his green starfish toy. Days like this, he hated the way his wet clothes stuck to him. He wanted to wait as long as possible before submerging himself in the lukewarm pool water.

Of course, his turn did come. After Eunji dragged herself out of the water, shivering in the sudden cool air, Seojin smiled encouragingly at Jooyeon. He couldn’t escape now. With a sigh, he stepped up to the edge, silently apologising to his little starfish friend.

Winding his arm back, Jooyeon released the toy, letting it fall towards the water. Almost exactly as he did so, a bell seemed to ring out. It breezed through the pool, catching everyone’s attention.

Jooyeon felt it resonate inside him, his vision spinning for a moment as he watched his starfish land in the water. The ripples that rung out from its point of impact crawled across the whole pool, as if carried by the sound of the bell. No one else’s toys had created such a big impact, but Jooyeon’s little starfish led to small waves lapping against even the furthest edges of the pool.

The water looked deep, the blues of it burning into Jooyeon’s soul. He could almost smell salt in the air, as if it was just beyond what he could discern. Suddenly he missed the sea, how deep and vast it was. How all encompassing.

The bell had stopped, the sound little more than a memory, teenagers and adults alike staring around as if looking for the source. Jooyeon almost didn’t care, drawn in by the water before him. He took a breath, diving forward after his starfish.

It was at that moment that he began to understand why people liked the water so much. Swimming felt so very freeing.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Much to his parents’ disappointment, Gunil loved to exercise the fact he could stay up as late as he wanted. He was seventeen now and greatly enjoyed the late night conversations he had with his friends. When his older brother had started university, he had moved to the dorms and left Gunil with his play station.

So, as per usual, Gunil was wide awake at midnight, gaming with his friends. His character was circling the CGI barn, settling just behind a chicken coop to survey the area. “Looks good from here,” he said, adjusting the mic on his headset.

Having lived in America for a good few years now, Gunil didn’t have any problems speaking English. Sure, it wasn’t quite as natural as speaking Korean, but he was able to express himself well enough that it didn’t matter.

“I see one guy on the east side, but other than that everything looks clear from my end as well,” Andy added. Andy and Gunil had been close since he had first moved to Boston. They connected quickly over their shared love of music and similar senses of humour. Moving into an entirely new culture made finding people who understand your humor surprisingly difficult, so Gunil had found a lot of comfort in Andy over the years.

His other two closest friends Mikey and Jae were also on the call. Jae was Korean himself, but had been fully raised in the USA. He had only ever been to Korea once, but he spoke the language fluently. Mikey, the whitest one of the four, also spoke a reasonable level of Korean. That was because his father had married a nice Korean woman when he was young. She taught Mikey all about her language and culture and would get so excited when Gunil or Jae came over to hang out.

“I’ll do a final check for heat signatures, but otherwise you look good to go in.” Gunil pressed a few buttons, opening his inventory and equipping his heat signature goggles. He rescanned the farm buildings, picking up on a lot more hidden away inside. “Oh wait, there’s a couple men inside on the second floor of the barn.”

Mikey’s voice came crackling back through his headset. “A couple? Like two? Or more than that?”

“Two,” Gunil confirmed, unequipping the goggles and setting his character to crouch.

“Ooh!” Jae called in a sing-song voice, dragging the note out. “I wonder if we’re interrupting their date?”

“Imagine,” Andy laughed, “they’re just on a first date and we come storming in shooting the place up.”

“Romance is dead,” Gunil sighed, his voice lined with exaggerated sadness, like this was the most devastating news he had ever received. He stifled his laugh, mindful of his parents sleeping a few rooms over.

He watched his screen as Jae’s character came creeping along the back wall towards where he was behind the coop. “‘I’ve been meaning to tell you this for ages, but I really do love you-” he teased, putting on a feminine voice. “Ah! Why are these men here to kill us? What’s going on?’”

The four of them burst out laughing at the impression. Jae had always been talented at making them all laugh. He was an extrovert through and through, constantly friendly and outgoing. He wasn’t afraid of anything really, and that was probably why Gunil liked him so much. They were almost opposites. While he was also an extrovert, Gunil second guessed all of his decisions, thinking about them late at night when they could no longer be changed. It was something he was trying to work on, but it was hard.

“There’s no female NPCs in this leg of the game,” Mikey supplied through his soft chuckles, “so they’d be a gay couple.”

Jae gasped melodramatically. “Gay representation? In this household? Not a chance! No gays allowed here.” His words were harsh, but underlined in a teasing tone.

Andy let out a heavy sigh. He was bisexual himself, but ended up mostly crushing on men. “Alright, Gunil. It looks like you and I aren’t allowed here anymore.”

Gunil copied his sigh, doing his best to banish the happiness from the edges of his voice. He loved his friends, and he loved how receptive they had been when he came out as gay a year prior. They took it in stride, never once questioning or second guessing him. They supported him endlessly. “That sucks, Andy. I guess we will be leaving then-”

He was cut off by a loud ringing sound. A bell, resonating through the air, almost tangible in front of him. Gunil stared around his room, the vibrations and bass of the sound echoing through him. He slipped one ear out of his headphones, listening to the bell. There were no clock towers close enough to create a sound so sharp and loud.

“Uh, I don’t remember there being any warning bells in this area of the map…?” Andy’s voice came through the headset.

“Wait, you can hear that too? It isn’t from the game, man,” Mikey replied. He sounded confused, verging on scared.

Gunil looked back at his screen just in time to see the small digital clock in the corner of his monitor stutter. It flickered between a few numbers before it seemed to remember the time and revert to what it had originally said. The bell’s sound dissipated, leaving behind a kind of airy silence.

There was shuffling from someone on the other side of the call. “Okay, that was really weird-” Jae started.

“I have to go,” Gunil cut in. He exited the call, ignoring his friends’ protests. He logged off his computer, sitting and watching the screen go dark. The bell was a myth - a fairytale. Gunil knew there was no way it was real. The Abyss, the Order of Music, the Trials of Sound? It was all one elaborate story his mother crafted to keep him entertained.

There were noises in the hallway, voices and shuffling feet. He turned his head towards his door, watching as the doorknob turned to reveal his father’s back. “-Isn’t what you’re thinking,” he was saying. “This is madness! You’ve lost it, Soomi.”

His mother was trying to push past him, trying to force herself between his body and the door frame. Gunil’s eyes found frantic ones. She looked desperate, like she needed something. He watched as she broke past, stumbling into his bedroom. His body stiffened as she raced to his side.

“Gunil,” she said, her voice cracked with the weight of her own emotions. From up close she looked almost feral. “My youngest son, remember all of the stories I have told to you! They were true - real! I have been waiting for the day I could prove this all to you. Eighteen years old, I said, but seventeen works as well. The first bell has rung. You must find the other Guardians before it is too late! You must, Gunil! It’s- We-”

His father had had enough, stepping in and scooping Soomi up into her arms. She tried to fight him, squirming against his grip. “You’ve lost it, my dear,” he sighed, sounding exhausted.

Gunil could only sit and watch as his father led his mother away, holding her arms down as she kicked and shouted. “Let me go! Let me go! My youngest, the bell has rung! It is your team of Guardians who will save music once again! Ah- Let me go!”

The world around Gunil seemed to ripple. He really had believed she was better. Their family hadn’t moved to America for fun or for a new experience like most people did. They moved after Soomi first began showing symptoms of mental breakdowns. She would fall in and out of reality. She would always insist she was fine, but Gunil’s father and the doctors she saw never believed her. They insisted care in America would be of a higher quality, that she would be a lot more supported.

And so the Goo family had moved. Soomi resisted the treatment in the beginning, but slowly she began to fall into the rhythm of it. Gunil watched her smile fall and a certain sadness well up inside her eyes. It was heartbreaking to see.

“Your mother struggles sometimes,” his father had explained softly, “to discern the physical reality from the stories her mind tells her.”

He shook his thoughts away, prying himself up out of his desk chair. His body felt stiff, the joints protesting as he walked across his bedroom to close his door again. Alone in his room, only just able to hear the mumble of his parents’ voices from across the house, Gunil’s mind recalled the childhood story he could never get enough of. The one his mother was always just a bit too eager to tell.

‘It’s not real,’ he had to remind himself. There had to be a more reasonable explanation. He tried to ignore the memory of that unexplainable bell and the power it seemed to carry with it.

He himself wondered, if only briefly, had the Abyss really begun his escape?

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

The six members of Xdinary Heroes were in the middle of band practice when the second bell rang. It flooded their practice room, bathing them all in its chime. Just like the still unexplained first bell ten years prior, there was no warning.

It crackled through their instruments, causing their speakers to fizzle out with small pops as the wiring gave up. The lights flickered as the sound itself seemed to settle in each of their chests. That same feeling as last time washed over each of them. That same oppressive, overwhelming force, sending shivers down their spines as the resonance of the bell made a home for itself deep inside each of them.

And yet, unlike last time, this bell carried more power. It hit them harder, causing their ears to ring. After the first bell, all six had memories of their friends and family frowning deeply, asking if they were sure the sound had settled inside their souls? Were they sure the sound actually affected them like that? To everyone else it was just a sound, but to the six it was more than that.

This time, as they all looked between each other, they could tell they all felt it.

One of Gunil’s drumstick slipped out of his hands, tumbling towards the floor. It was that moment - drumstick falling, staring around at his bandmates, recognising the way they all shared a connection to the bell, sound pressing obnoxiously against his body - Gunil felt overwhelmed. ‘Wait,’ his mind demanded.

And then everything did.

It took Gunil a moment to register what had happened. It took him a long, slow moment. The drumstick still hadn’t hit the ground. As he looked back at it, he found it was still only half way to the floor and moving in complete slow motion. The more he looked around, the more he realised the entire world was in complete slow motion.

His bandmates were staring at each other with these wide confused eyes, but somehow Gunil just felt sad. He wasn’t confused or trying to work out what was happening. He already knew. He supposed he had always known for sure since that first bell, but the way his father pushed away the notion of it made him do the same. But now, his father still far off in America, Gunil was left to make his own decision.

The Abyss was free. He and his band were the new Guardians, ready to replace the Order. His stomach churned at the thought, but how was he to deny it now? The world was moving in slow motion; the staple ability of Echeion, the Guardian of Tempo. Gunil supposed, as the band’s leader, that was whose mantle he had to take up.

Gunil’s eyes trailed across the room again, stopping to look at Jungsu. He remembered the first time they met and the way he was immediately rendered speechless at the younger’s beauty. Jungsu, the idol singer, with looks that absolutely could kill. Gunil’s heart never stood a chance. He kept his feelings quiet, away from their friendship and their music. Jungsu was an amazing musician and someone Gunil looked up to. Despite being both the oldest and the group’s leader, he found himself looking up to all of the members.

Jungsu in particular carried this charm that set Gunil’s heart racing. But, the younger kept to himself in a way no one else did. He stayed silent, sealing his lips instead of speaking about his problems to anyone. Gunil was trying to help him work on it, but it was a slow process. Gunil watched his eyes as they widened and his lips as they parted. Jungsu’s fingers lifted off the keys of his instrument as he turned his attention across the room towards everyone else. Gunil thought, between his perfect pitch and beautiful singing voice, Jungsu had to be the Guardian of Resonance.

Behind Jungsu stood Hyeongjun, his expression twisting slowly as a deep set frown made its way onto his features. Even after years of friendship, Hyeongjun was still quiet. There was this charm about it, how Gunil could sit with him for hours in silence, the pair just enjoying each other’s presence. He loved that about the younger, basking in the quiet comfort Hyeongjun always brought.

But then there were times when he was loud and bold, laughing and shouting. Those were times Gunil found equally precious. The way Hyeongjun’s smile could light up the entire room, glowing and shining and filling Gunil’s heart with a deep love and appreciation for his friend. Hyeongjun was slowly growing more and more confident. The way he seemed to become more himself every day; long hair, androgynous clothing, hand tattoo. Gunil knew Hyeongjun would be the Guardian of Harmony, the Guardian in charge of the beauty of their group’s friendship.

To Jungsu’s other side stood Jiseok, the constant sunshine of the group. He was a fascinating mix of mature and childlike, and was someone Gunil found himself leaning on a lot. Their first interaction was a bit awkward. It involved Jiseok’s stuttered confession that he was a fan of Gunil’s small YouTube channel and that he was feeling a little bit starstruck. The duo quickly got past that though, connecting over music and games they both played.

Gunil admired Jiseok’s resilience and determination greatly. He was a fun, relaxed guy before the camera, cracking jokes and making the fans laugh, but back in the practice room, Jiseok was often the one asking for another run through. Asking if they could stay an extra hour. He was determined and that shone through in everything he did. Gunil wasn’t surprised he was a Guardian, actually. He seemed like someone the Abyss should fear, someone that would be a great benefit to have by their side along their journey. He supposed Jiseok must be the Guardian of Energy, his own energy flowing through each of his actions and the music he made.

Beside Jiseok stood Jooyeon, the group’s variety-king maknae. Their brave and outgoing front man. The incredible musician they were lucky to call their lead singer and bassist. Jooyeon was a major asset when it came to their band. Even when Gunil met the youngest for the first time, he could tell he was destined for stardom. Jooyeon was born to be famous - to be a musician. He was natural before a camera and had an amazing stage presence. Gunil was constantly in awe. He thought back to that young kid crying into his side, bag stuffed with toilet paper. How far Jooyeon had come, it made Gunil feel so very proud.

But, while being flawless onstage, Jooyeon could be a pain in the dorms. Waking him up was a nightmare in itself, and keeping him up was another story. It was a bit of a stretch to call him a functioning adult, as Gunil had slowly realised. Jooyeon was a wonderful person, but he was often quite childlike with how he acted. Their manager knew this the best, having to help the youngest out of a number of jams in their short time as a group. Regardless, Gunil loved their maknae. He was the sort of person so powerful and talented that you would remember them forever. Gunil thought the best way to describe Jooyeon was to use the ocean. The way the waves churned and twisted, rising and falling, calming and still. Jooyeon was like the ocean, and that was why Gunil decided he must be the Guardian of Depth.

On the far side of the room, tucked away behind his synth, stood Seungmin. Their resident fashion expert, Seungmin had been moved from his dream of being an idol to being placed in a band. While his path was similar to Jungsu’s, it was also very different in a number of ways. Jungsu had wanted to be a singer, it didn’t matter to him if it was in an idol group or a band. Seungmin was set on dance and so the change took a bigger toll on him than he let people know. Gunil remembered the way the light in Seungmin’s eyes used to fizzle out when he tried to talk to him about it.

As time went on, Seungmin’s dreams changed and he began to embrace his new future. Now, Seungmin often said he could no longer imagine himself in an idol group. He loved their band and playing the synthesiser more than anything. His story was one Gunil found so very beautiful and moving. Seungmin was someone who was able to take new paths in stride. He was able to smile when he came to a fork in the road, and Gunil thought that was amazing. It was because of this, he thought Seungmin must be the Guardian of Foresight.

Gunil would admit he thought about his mother’s story often. The way the six of them seemed to echo out the qualities of each of the Guardians. He had noticed in the past, wondering in the back of his mind if - perhaps - she had been right.

After the first bell had rung, his father had seen Soomi to a mental facility, assuring Gunil it was just to keep her safe. She stayed there locked up like some sort of prisoner for years, until Gunil ended up leaving for South Korea. Around the time he got into JYP Entertainment, Soomi had managed to convince the staff she was doing alright. She immediately moved back to South Korea, doing her best to support Gunil from a distance. She didn’t visit him much as per her now ex-husbands wishes, buying a small house in the countryside just outside of Seoul.

Slowly, her health began to decline. Last time Gunil called her she was taking medication every day, not going outside very often. She would sit on her deck in an old rocking chair and watch the birds play in her small turquoise birdbath. Gunil was planning to visit her soon, but that was difficult with his busy schedule.

At the end of their calls, Soomi would always add on in a soft voice, “when the second bell rings, come find me.” Gunil would always say okay before saying goodbye. His mother had never seemed crazy to him. Nothing she did screamed ‘insane’ the way people claimed it did. She always understood everything around her and never did anything to put anyone in danger. The only ‘crazy’ thing she ever did was believe in the Abyss and the Guardians and, well, now there was proof of that, wasn’t there?

Gunil stared at his drumstick, watching it glide through the air. He felt sad more than anything else. His mother had known the truth and she was only ever called insane. She was bullied by doctors and her own husband because she believed something different. Gunil felt sad for her.

The drumstick hit the wooden floor, landing harshly and rolling along the ground. Time seemed to resume, reality suddenly playing out at its usual speed again.

“What the hell is going on?” Jooyeon asked no one in particular. He looked dizzy, eyes darting around. The ground beneath them trembled with each step backwards he took. Jooyeon had to stop himself, holding his arms out to balance himself. But as he flicked his wrists out, waves of almost invisible energy came shooting out, one hitting the wall and creating a small dent, while the other shattered their wall mirror. He squeaked, not sure what to do.

Jiseok wasn’t having a very good time either. His guitar was fizzing, electricity shooting up the neck and along the strings. He yelped, yanking off the strap and throwing the instrument to the ground. Jiseok, who wouldn’t even breathe if it had the possibility of damaging a guitar, threw his favourite guitar onto the floor full force. He didn’t even get a chance to realise what he had done before his fingers themselves began to spark. Electricity crackled along his body, arching between his fingers.

Hyeongjun and Jungsu were experiencing similar things. They were both staring around the room with wide eyes, studying something Gunil couldn’t see. He knew Jungsu would probably be looking at sound waves themselves. He would have been able to see them with his own eyes, and even able to manipulate them if he reached out and tried.

Hyeongjun was less looking into the distance and more letting his eyes rake between them all. As the Guardian of Harmony, he was probably able to see the strings of emotion connecting the six of them together. The way different strings looked stronger or were a different colour. Gunil supposed it looked beautiful.

On the opposite side of the room, Seungmin looked faint. Gunil frowned as he turned to look over at him. Seungmin’s face was ghostly pale, his eyes fluttering in a way they probably shouldn’t have been. Gunil reacted before he could even think about it, shooting up and racing across the room. Just as he got close, Seungmin toppled over, collapsing down into Gunil’s side.

He lowered them both to the ground, cradling Seungmin in his arms. He was probably experiencing foresight for the first time, Gunil realised. Hyeongjun was the first to react to what had happened. He gasped, shaking himself out of his trance and stumbling over towards them.

Jooyeon turned slowly to face them, doing his best not to move too suddenly and cause any more quakes. Jungsu also managed to shake himself free (probably reacting to the sound of Hyeongjun’s gasp, Gunil thought to himself) and came their way as well.

Jiseok didn’t notice, too busy freaking out over the way his body was covered in enough electricity for it to be physically arching away from him. As Jungsu passed, he glanced over at him and almost jumped backwards in shock. Jiseok met his eyes, face twisted with pure fear.

Gunil gently tapped Seungmin’s cheek, trying to draw him back to reality. The younger screwed up his face, tilting his head away from Gunil’s hand. He groaned, raising his own palm to rub at his eyes. Hyeongjun exhaled, relieved to see Seungmin was alright.

Jungsu flinched at the sounds, each movement sending him spiralling deeper into his panic. Gunil wasn’t sure how to comfort him right now, wasn’t sure how to comfort any of them. How was he supposed to be the leader when he had no idea what he was doing? It tugged at his heart, his lips turning downwards.

Gunil startled at the voice below him. “Your mother…” Seungmin was breathing heavily, as if he was using a lot of energy to even speak. He was probably struggling with the sudden withdrawal of energy his new visions were using.

The words struck Gunil in the heart, ringing through his ears. “What about my mother?” he asked quickly. There were a few people listening in and since Seungmin wasn’t looking at Gunil in particular, it could have been anyone’s mother. But who else’s mother made sense? Gunil knew it was his.

“She’s…” Seungmin stuttered, a strange look in his eyes. “I don’t know, but we need to go see her.”

Gunil sighed. “I know that already.”

Hyeongjun studied the older’s expression for a moment, raising an eyebrow. “You know what’s going on, don’t you Gunil-hyung?”

His words weren’t very loud, just enough to catch everyone’s attention. Even Jiseok and Jungsu turned back towards the main group. Now with his focus directed elsewhere, the energy enveloping Jiseok’s body died down, as if someone had turned the power down.

“You know?” Jungsu repeated, eyes wide.

Gunil ducked his head, swallowing thickly. They were bound to have this conversation eventually, but it still felt like a heavy weight had been placed down on his shoulders. He cleared his throat, doing his best to make himself look professional. “Uh, sort of.” Not a strong start, but Gunil pushed through. “I’ve mentioned before how my mother was considered crazy for a long time.”

The four listening nodded along. Gunil’s mother had been a soft spot for the drummer for a long time. He had mentioned it to them gently in passing before, never quite feeling comfortable going into much detail.

Now he supposed he didn’t have a choice. “She was considered crazy because she fully believed the story she told me every night before bed. It was a story of six heroes who saved music from this giant silent monster. Apparently on the second bell that monster was supposed to escape again. She was convinced that…” Gunil trailed off, reaching up to rub his eyes. This was all crazy. “I don’t know. She believed it all.”

No one really had the chance to respond before Seungmin shot up into a sitting position, only narrowly missing Gunil. “We need to go now,” he said, head swivelling around to stare at the drummer. “I… I don’t understand what’s happening but I keep seeing these horrible situations…”

“You’re the Guardian of Foresight,” Gunil said slowly. “The Seer of the Future Note. You have access to all of the possibilities of what’s to come.”

Seungmin’s eyes widened, a panicked look settling on his face. “The… Those are possible futures? Oh, God no!” He scrambled to his feet. “We need to get to her now!”

Gunil dragged himself up as well, frowning. “Why? What happened? What did you see?”

“I don’t…” Seungmin stilled, his eyes growing sad. “I don’t want to tell you until I can see it’s true,” he admitted.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Hyeongjun asked, a sense of determination lining his voice. “Let’s go find answers with Gunil’s mother.”

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

They managed to slip out of the building without much fuss, avoiding any of the staff who knew their schedule. Hiding their abilities was a lot harder. They wrapped Jiseok in Jooyeon’s long coat, the size of it helping to mask the electricity still shimmering across his body. The floor trembled each time Jooyeon lost focus. He cursed under his breath, doing his best to regain his resolve.

Gunil had to combat time itself shifting and changing around him. One moment things would be a normal speed, and the next reality was barely crawling around him. In those times he just had to do his best to stay still and not to obviously defy the natural order by appearing to speed up greatly. He would take a moment to recenter himself, allowing himself to relax before reality regained its usual tempo.

He guided the group to the parking lot, allowing them to clamber into one of the vans there. It was an easy choice for him to take the driver’s seat. The only other candidate was Seungmin, but with his vision cutting in and out that didn’t exactly seem safe. Instead he settled in the very back seat beside Hyeongjun, allowing the younger to help comfort him through the sudden changes in the reality around him.

Jiseok and Jooyeon piled into the middle seats, doing their best to stay calm. Maybe putting them beside each other wasn’t the right call, but Gunil wanted to focus while he drove. He didn’t think Jiseok’s sparking or Jooyeon’s tremors would help him very much in that area. Because of this, Jungsu ended up slipping into the seat beside him.

Perhaps that also wasn’t a very wise choice, Gunil slowly realised as he kept catching Jungsu’s side profile in the corners of his vision. His heart slammed around in his chest, the unnatural rhythm catching the keyboard player’s attention. “You alright, ‘Illie-hyung?” he asked gently.

He let out a shaky breath, doing his best to maintain a natural tint to his cheeks. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay as I can be.” He cleared his throat, shooting a look over in the younger’s direction. “What about you? You seem to be coping pretty well.”

A soft smile curled onto Jungsu’s lips as he ducked his head. “Ah, I guess. It’s so overwhelming, but I think I’m getting the hang of it,” he admitted.

Gunil hummed. “You’re the Guardian of Resonance. The Designer of Soundscapes. You can see soundwaves, right? How every sound creates its own ripple?” He was curious about Jungsu’s ability and the way the world must look through the lens of sound itself.

Jungsu turned towards the window. “I can see the way even the smallest sound creates waves that ripple as high as hills, rolling into the distance. I can see the way your voice echoes as it passes your lips and the way your heart beats. I can see sound emanating from things that aren’t even physically there, like the wind. It’s… overwhelming. There’s so much.”

From behind them, Jiseok crackled loudly, letting out a yelp. Jungsu flinched, before turning to face him between the seats. “Jiseokie, you just need to relax.”

The guitarist pouted, a frown settling on his features. “That’s easier said than done, hyung. How are we supposed to manage these abilities if we don’t have an instruction manual?” he whined. “Why am I even doing this? Why can’t I have a beautiful ability like yours? Why is mine so-” electricity arched between his arm and chest, “-violent!”

“You’re the Guardian of Energy, Jiseok,” Gunil explained from the front seat. “You’re literally called the Wielder of Lightning.” Slowing down, he turned right onto a wider road and began to follow it towards the edge of the city.

Beside the portable battery, Jooyeon piped up, eyes sparkling. “What am I, hyungie?” he asked.

Gunil sighed. “You’re the Guardian of Depth. That’s why you are creating shockwaves. Your nickname is the Titan of Reverberation.” He hesitated a moment, but knew they would just keep asking if he didn’t explain them all. So Gunil continued. “Hyeongjun is the Guardian of Harmony, the Illusionist of Melody. I am the Guardian of Tempo, which is why I keep messing with the pace of time. I’m the Keeper of Rhythm. And I already said Seungmin earlier.”

“Where did these nicknames come from?” Jungsu asked.

In his peripheral vision, Gunil could see the younger staring at him. He felt his cheeks flush involuntarily. “Uh, I don’t actually know. If the stories are all true - and, considering what’s happening to us right now, they probably all are - then they were the nicknames given to the six members of the Order by the townspeople in the area they resided in.”

The car rattled more and more as the roads became slowly more rural, winding away from the city and into the green countryside. From the very back Hyeongjun made a strangled sound. “Seungmin doesn’t look very good,” he commented quietly.

“I’m alright,” the other grumbled, but his voice sounded weak. “I just… I can see so much more than what’s in front of me. Uh, and I feel car sick…”

“Please don’t throw up in the van,” Gunil requested quickly. “This is still the company’s van and I don’t exactly want to destroy it.” He sighed heavily. “We’re almost there.”

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

At some point during their journey the sky had filled with thick black clouds. Rain drizzled down, lightly tapping against the van’s windshield as they pulled into the dirt driveway. Gunil was surprised to see his mother’s usually well kept yard was overgrown and rough. Weeds were dotted through the usually fresh grass and the jasmine crawling up the veranda looked just slightly out of control.

He pursed his lips, bracing himself for what could possibly await them from there. Seungmin looked pale as Hyeongjun helped him out of the car. He stared around, seeing more from their reality than Gunil. He staggered, gagging slightly. Hyeongjun jumped to help him, but was stopped with a hand. Seungmin shook his head, silently insisting he was fine.

The ground trembled and lightning flashed across the sky, followed momentarily by the echoing gasp of thunder. Gunil wasn’t sure how much the nuggets had to do with the phenomenon.

Jungsu squeezed his shoulder, offering him a small smile. He appreciated the gesture, trying to tame his now-visible heartbeat. He made his way across the path, up onto the veranda. The rocking chair that stood there creaked as it moved in the wind. The place looked deserted.

Gunil swallowed thickly as he knocked at the door.

There was no answer.

He knocked again.

Still, nothing.

“Go inside,” Seungmin called out from behind him. “There’s a spare key under the pot plant by your foot.”

Sure enough, the small clay pot to his left housed an extra key. He brushed off the excess dirt, moving to unlock the door before him. It fit easily in the lock, turning with a quiet squeak.

Once it was open, the door swung open on its own, the hinges whining in protest. Gunil felt a cool breeze hit him square in the chest, sending a shiver down his spine. The air was thick with dust, underlined with a pungent aroma he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Time slowed down as he stepped inside. The chair stopped creaking, the wind’s building roar eased into a background rumble. Gunil’s heart rate was the only thing that sped up.

He crossed the threshold with careful steps, inching his way into the dimly lit home. He considered calling out, but something deep inside him told him that wouldn’t work.

The house only had four rooms. The main kitchen and living room was merged into one, the bench jitting out on the right of the door. There was a small box TV across from him, crowded by floral couches. On the right wall stood one door - branching off into the master bedroom. On the left stood a small guest room and the bathroom.

Gunil crept around the kitchen bench, making his way towards the bedroom. The door was cracked open, the smell burning his nose more and more as he closed in. There was a shape in his mother’s bed, a figure tucked just under the blanket.

He pushed the door open a little bit more so he could step inside. He recoiled as the stink hit him even stronger. Tears burned in his eyes and he raised a hand to cover his nose. He knew what it was instantly, but his feet carried him in further, closer to the horror before him.

His mother lay in silence, covered perfectly by her blanket. She was frozen like a moment in time, like a star hung amongst the constellations. He wanted to pretend she was asleep, but with the way her skin was puffy and colourless, that was near impossible. A few bugs had wormed their way inside, nestling on her body and buzzing around in the air.

Gunil felt sick.

His mother had passed away in her sleep and no one had been there to take care of her. She truly was alone, he realised all too suddenly.

At that moment, time kicked back into gear. The sound of the wind came flooding in, roaring in his ears. The rain came down heavily, echoing against the small house’s roof.

Gunil turned around and threw up. His sick poured out onto the wooden floors, staining the rug and a few bits speckling his legs. He gagged, his stomach attempting a second try but failing. Tears burned in his eyes, hanging on his eyelashes.

He looked up towards the bedroom door to see if any of his friends had come looking for him when he noticed the second door. It stood behind the main bedroom one, cracked open just enough to peak his interest. He had always believed it was a cupboard as it was set right next to his mother’s wardrobe. But, as he made his way over, Gunil noticed it was deeper than the wardrobe and the floor was covered in papers.

Gunil pulled out his cellphone, using the torch to illuminate the dark space. A few spiders had made homes in the shadows there, scurrying away when the light hit them. Papers lined the walls, ranging from photographs to newspaper clippings. The headlines read things like ‘Metronome Found Dating Back to 600 BCE’ and ‘Tomb of Ancient Local Hero Discovered in Greece’ .

His eyes stopped on photographs of himself and his bandmates. Beside them a piece of paper was pinned to the wall. ‘These six,’ his mother had written, ‘are the six new Guardians. I am sure of it.’

Gunil felt his skin run cold and his stomach gave another uncomfortable squeeze. She had always known.

“Hyung?” he heard Jiseok call out from the other room. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh,” Gunil stopped. How was he supposed to answer that question? He stared around once more at the mess of his mother’s insanity, eyes settling on a small red notebook. It was placed delicately on a table beside a singular pen. It was clear his mother had cared for it. He picked it up without thinking much, the paper light in his hand. “Coming,” he shouted back to his friends.

As he stepped back into the bedroom, he forced his eyes downwards, away from his mother’s still body. Blood rushed in his ears, almost drowning out the sounds of the flies. But not quite.

His friends were waiting by the door for him. Their expressions fell as they saw his twisted one. “Is your mother okay?” Jungsu asked as gently as he could.

Gunil could only swallow thickly, not quite sure how to verbally convey what he had seen.

“She’s dead,” Seungmin supplied.

The notebook felt heavier now that he was outside. Gunil lifted it up, studying the fake leather. “I think she wanted me to find this,” he said.

Hyeongjun staggered, dropping to his knees. Seungmin raced to help support him, apparently feeling a bit better than before. The younger hung his head, shrugging off the offered assistance. His voice almost didn’t sound like his own when he spoke. “Now,” the ghostly feminine voice said, “it is your turn to complete what we couldn’t…”

Melodion.

Gunil nodded stiffly. He wasn’t sure what else to do. Hyeongjun looked up again, eyes unfocused. He looked exhausted. “What…?” He didn’t finish his question, allowing Seungmin to haul him to his feet.

“Who was that?” Jiseok asked slowly. “It wasn’t Hyeongjun, was it?”

“No,” Gunil sighed. “That was the proof my mother’s childhood story was real.” He looked up, eyes flicking between each of his bandmates. “Now it’s our turn to become the Guardians and save the world from the Abyss. The future of music and sound itself now lies on our shoulders… Whether we like it or not.”

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ♫ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Even during their trip back to the city, the six could see the changes in their reality already. Everything seemed just a little bit darker. Sound itself felt warped, just twisted off key enough to be noticeable.

Gunil drove with a deep frown present on his lips, eyes settled firmly on the road ahead. This time he didn’t look over at Jungsu once. The keyboard player was turned towards the window, studying the soundwaves and their minute differences to the ones he had seen a few hours earlier.

Jiseok and Jooyeon were quiet, their own abilities already more reined in, disrupting the drive less and less. The ground barely trembled, completely imperceptible from inside the van. Jiseok’s body wasn’t leaking as much energy anymore, small crackles popping through the silence.

Hyeongjun was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as they had climbed back in the van. Melodion had bubbled her way to the top, using a lot of his energy to do so. Seungmin was still struggling to see past his visions, but his eyes looked more clear and his words held more power when Gunil had spoken to him.

He drove them to the dorm, pulling into a parking spot just outside. They took the elevator, all of them just a bit too exhausted and overwhelmed to climb up the two flights of stairs.

Their dorm stood waiting, looking oddly normal after their day. Everything looked untouched, as if it had been waiting patiently for them to return. Gunil collapsed down onto one of their couches with a groan, his mother’s notebook still heavy in his hands.

Jungsu lowered himself down beside the drummer, his expression gentle and open. “This is a lot,” he commented.

Gunil could almost laugh. The feeling felt raw and uncomfortable. His throat still burned with the taste of bile and his head spun as time itself tickled and teased him. His mother was dead and no one knew. He didn’t once think to check in on her. The thought was suspended over him like a grand piano waiting to fall.

Seungmin and Hyeongjun settled themselves on the other couch, eyelids heavy and drooping. They both looked exhausted and Gunil felt bad. Jooyeon sat down beside them, leaning heavily on the arm rest. As he sat, the ground rumbled for a moment. He flinched, smiling sheepishly.

Jiseok lowered himself onto the floor, sitting against the coffee table. “What’s in the notebook?” he asked.

The question almost startled Gunil. He hadn’t looked yet. He opened it slowly to the first page. His mother’s handwriting filled the page.

‘The six locations the Guardians must travel to so that they may complete the Trials of Sound were almost completely lost to myth. I have done what I can to decipher the four still known, but the final two must be rediscovered by the Guardians themselves.

‘This has been my life’s work. I have lost almost everything because of it. My family, my friends, my status in society, but I would never change my path. I am a direct descendant of one of the original members of the Order - of Echeion the Guardian of Tempo.

‘When I was a young girl, my mother told me this same story. The tale of the Order of Music. She explained that throughout the generations this story had been passed down. Melodion had known what was going to happen. She had gone to Echeion’s oldest and most trustworthy son. She had given him a message; “pass this story down through the generations so that one day a new group of Guardians may have the chance to defeat the Abyss once and for all.

‘I did not believe the story at first. My mother insisted, but I never listened. It was not until I had my second born son Gunil that I truly believed. When he was born, I felt reality pause. I saw everything move in slow motion for a second. I knew he was the one. The one who would lead the new Guardians to take on the Abyss.

‘I knew my son would be the one to save the world.

‘I also knew I had to dedicate my life to helping him in any way I could. I have spent years studying texts and artifacts, trying to determine what clues would be of use. I have stayed as close to him as possible, but it has been difficult. My son, if you are reading this now, I hope I am there beside you to guide you through this myself.

‘But if I am not, then I commend you for your bravery and your strength. You can do this, my son. I don’t think Music could have chosen a better protector.

‘Inside this book are four clues to the first four Trials. You will have to find your own way to the final two - and I will be cheering you on the entire way.

‘After you complete the Trials, you will be able to enter the World of Music. That is where the Abyss lies in wait for you. Please remember your harmony. If you are not harmonious and your bond with each other isn’t strong, you will not be able to seal the Abyss away for good.

‘Good luck, my son.

‘I love you.’

Gunil didn’t notice the tears falling down his cheeks at first. The first thing he noticed was how ragged his breathing sounded. For a moment, he felt like he was in third person, listening to the shakily inhales as if they were somebody else.

Jungsu shushed him, pulling him into his arms and cradling his head.  “It’s okay,” he soothed.

Was it? Was anything okay?

Gunil just buried his head into his shoulder and cried harder. Tears soaked into Jungsu’s jersey, wetting the fabric. He sniffled, doing his best not to get snot everywhere as well.

The others just watched on with shining eyes and downturned lips. It was a sombre scene and a sombre story. Reality was falling apart around them, soundwaves unravelling before their very eyes. The Abyss had set right to work, beginning to drain the loudest sounds of their power and the deepest sounds of their bass.

Gunil pulled away slowly, wiping his eyes on his arm. His hands shook as he raised the notebook once again. A few tears had dripped onto the paper, gently smudging the pen. He turned the page carefully, glad to see no liquid had seeped through.

‘Clues pertaining to the location of the first Trial,’ the heading stated. He sniffled, expression steeling as he read the words there. He felt his heart lurch in his chest, everything falling down before him, sliding into place like puzzle pieces.

“I know where we need to go,” Gunil announced, turning to look at his fellow Guardians. “I know where the first Trial is.”