Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Till was born in an alleyway. 

Literally. 

His mother gave birth to him all alone in a dark alley in the slums, fully expecting he wouldn’t survive. Miraculously, he did. He was small, just as Io expected. She barely ate after all. Io couldn’t steal as much as she used to with a baby kicking around inside her. She felt guilty, but her little champion pushed through. He made it. She made it. Mostly thanks to her enhanced healing. 

Still, guilt wasn’t the only thing she felt. She was proud. 

She did it. She gave birth alone and brought into the world the most adorable little thing she'd ever seen. And the best part? He looked just like her. Not a trace of his bastard of a father. That night, despite her exhaustion, Io didn’t sleep. She watched him, held him, fed him when he whimpered. And with his tiny body curled up against her chest, she made a quiet promise: He would have love. And he would have her. Always. 

And she kept that promise. 

Till never had to wonder if his mother loved him. Not once. But a life full of love doesn’t mean a life free of crime. At least, not to Io and Till.

By six, he committed his first crime. 

Io had him pretend to be hurt outside a fabric shop. Wailing and crying for help, a perfect little performance. The elderly shop owner rushed over, and while he was distracted, Io slipped inside and stuffed as much fabric as she could into her bag. When a customer saw her and called her out, she ran, and when the shopkeeper turned around, Till was gone too. 

Back at their home, a shabby but cozy (and probably illegal) camp hidden in the woods, Io pulled out an old needle and thread. That night, she made him a pair of pants, a little cloak, and a stuffed bear that looked suspiciously like a rat. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was warm. It was the best she could give. 

While other kids were learning how to read, Till was learning how to steal. Food, coins, buttons, threads...  Anything he could get his hands on. Io taught him everything. How to run. How to lie. How to survive. 

She wanted more for him. She dreamed of another life for her son, where Till could be normal, where they didn’t have to break the law to break bread with each other. She could only dream. Getting a legal job meant paperwork. Paperwork meant leaving a trail, and that meant risking her ex-husband finding her. The only jobs that didn’t care about documentation were too dangerous, too sketchy. She couldn’t afford to get caught in anything messy again. Not now, when she has Till. 

So, she kept dreaming. Till, on the other hand, started scheming. 

At sixteen, he realized something: if they couldn’t find a safe way to make money, maybe they could build one. A shady business of their own. Maybe a small shop where Io sold clothes she made. 

A business, however, needed a capital. So, he robbed a bus. Alone. With a knife he made himself. His mother called him stupid, Till thought it was badass. 

He didn’t get far when he encountered trouble. 

Encountered a hero. 

A man with blond hair and golden eyes stepped in. Luka, the newest member of the Hero Assembly, who has domain over light. Till thought he was done for.  

Then, right when Luka reached for him, he vanished. He disappeared. Into the shadows. In a blink, he was gone, whisked away to a different place. 

Just like that, he had powers. An early birthday gift from the universe. 

The ability to travel through the shadows.

From then on, he made use of it. Robbing left and right. Slipping in and out of the dark like a ghost. It earned him a nickname. “Rat.” Not flattering, but he took it and made it his own. He embraced the theme and built a mask off it. He moved like a rat. Sneaky, fast, hard to kill. 

He wasn’t alone, either. 

There was Mizi. An orphan pickpocket with no powers, just fast fingers and a sweet smile. She was always hanging around with the twins, Hyuna and Hyun-Woo who could switch places instantly, no matter where they were. They became his friends, with Mizi the closest to his heart. Wherever Mizi went, Till went. Wherever Till went, Mizi followed. Eventually, Till pulled them into his heists, They became a group. The Colony. 

They started small, with stores, cars, and apartments. Then they moved up. Malls. Banks. They got good. They got known. 

But it wasn’t just for fun or thrill. They were building something real. Everything they stole went toward giving Io the life she deserved. A quiet one. A warm one. 

A boutique, Io's dream business. Shady and with no permit, but they lived in the poorer areas of Anakt City anyways, nobody checks there. 

On his birthday, one of their heists hit the news. The media mysteriously dubbed him “Unknown.” It must’ve been a placeholder name, but it stuck. 

Unfortunately, at twenty-one, Unknown met his match. 

A new hero. No mask. No secret identity. Just a guy named Ivan. His ability? Creepy. Freaky, even. If he looks at you, you and whoever is within his sight freeze. As in, you can’t move. At all. Whenever he’s in action, it always looks like he’s playing an odd game of statues with his opponents. 

The first time Till ran into him, he was with the Colony, minus Hyun-woo, robbing a museum. Everything was going smoothly. Then suddenly, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t even sink into the shadows. Then, he saw him. Ivan stepped in front of him and smirked. The bastard SMIRKED. 

They got away thanks to Hyun-Woo’s last-minute switch, but Till’s pride? Obliterated. 

It didn’t stop there. Ivan kept showing up, catching him, always with that same infuriating calm. Till always escaped, but it became a thing. A cat-and-mouse game. 

The media called them rivals. Nemeses. They weren’t wrong.

Three years of this crap. Three. Whole. YEARS. 

But Till has a plan. Ivan made a huge mistake by never hiding his identity. 

Till chuckled darkly at his laptop screen. Mizi side-eyed him from across the table. She didn’t even ask. 

A bright red ad flashed on the screen. 

“GET A CHANCE TO DOGSIT FOR HERO, IVAN!” 

Perfect. 

Chapter Text

It had been a day since Ivan posted the ad.

“Thank you for calling anyway...” he muttered before he hung up.

Sua had told him it was a terrible idea, but it seemed like the fastest way to find help. Of course, in his tiredness, he hadn’t accounted for the tidal wave of fans frothing at the mouth over the chance to step inside the Ivan’s house.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and slumped into his chair. Teddy, blissfully unaware of the chaos he’d indirectly caused just by existing, rubbed his nose against Ivan’s hand for pets.

Ivan sighed. Again. He should’ve gotten a manager. Or just... not gotten a dog.

His phone rang again. He didn’t even check who it was; he just turned on silent mode and tossed it onto the couch like a curse he could pretend didn’t exist.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Ivan let out a long, weary groan and dragged both hands down his face.

Teddy followed him to the door with far too much enthusiasm.

And there, standing proudly on his doorstep, was a grey-haired man dressed head-to-toe in white, grinning way too widely for someone who clearly didn’t belong.

“...Hello?”

“Hi! I’m Till. Here for the dogsitting job.”

Ivan looked at the man at his front door, then at Teddy, like the dog summoned him, then back at the guy.

“Till who?”

“Till Unknown.”

Ivan blinked. “What?”

“Unknown. That’s the last name. Like legally. I’m not just being cryptic.”

“…Like... the supervillain? ”

Till gave him his best fake laugh. “No, no, not that Unknown. I’m Unknown. But not like- not because of that. It’s just the family last name! Has history. See, back then, peasants didn’t have last names, right? So my ancestor probably showed up somewhere, someone asked who they were, and the dude was like, ‘uhhh, Unknown’ and then bam! Lineage.” He does jazz hands at the end. They feel rehearsed.

Ivan stared at him like he was trying to decode a riddle written in Teddy’s shit, written by Teddy.

“Okay...? ” he said slowly. “You just... Have the same name as a villain? ”

Till blinked. “Yeah, wild coincidence, huh? ”

Ivan rubbed his temples. He's too tired for this. “You know what? Sure.”

Till just smiled, completely unbothered. “Anyway, legally speaking, it's on my ID. You can’t discriminate against historical misfortune.”

Ivan muttered something that might’ve been a curse. Or a prayer. He wasn’t sure anymore.

“Why are you here again?”

“For the job.”

“I don’t think I’ve called anyone back yet.”

“Oh, I didn’t call at all.”

Pause.

“How’d you find my house, then?”

“I followed you home.”

Ah. A sasaeng. Fantastic.

Ivan immediately began to close the door.

“Wait—!”

Till shoved half his body into the narrowing gap.

“I’m fully capable of this job!”

Ivan pushed back, expression blank. “I already hired someone else.”

“Fire him. I’m all you need.”

“That can’t possibly be true.”

“It is true! I graduated from the top dog university!”

“Dog universities are for dogs.”

Ivan leaned against the door, exhausted. Teddy joined in on the effort, pawing at it, not fully understanding but happy to join in on the fun.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t hire you.”

“Why not, you bas—! I mean, badass!”

Ivan squinted. “You totally just almost called me a bastard.”

He stepped away from the door, letting it swing open. Till stumbled forward and hit the ground with a thud.

To his credit, he recovered quickly and popped up like nothing happened, rubbing his nose and smiling like he’d die if he didn’t.

“Listen, you need a dog sitter. I can dog-sit! It’s perfect—!”

Ivan activates his powers, signified by the flash of red in the middle of his black irises.

Till froze mid-sentence, mid-grin. Muscles locked. Eyes wide. He knew this feeling. The paralyzing weight of Ivan’s stare. The suffocating stillness it forced on him.

‘This bastard. Even as a civilian’…

Ivan nudged him backward with his foot like a bag of trash.

“Thank you for your time,” he said politely, flashing his PR-trained smile.

The door clicked shut.

Outside, Till unfroze instantly, crouched, and steamed.

And he seethed.

Inside, Ivan didn’t spare him a second thought. He flopped back into his chair with the dramatic flair of a man who had officially given up.

Teddy leapt beside him, tail wagging like he did nothing wrong. (He didn’t, but ruining Ivan’s schedule should count for something.)

Ivan eyed the phone still sitting on the couch. No calls. No new messages, and he waited.

And waited.

And waited...

And... nothing.

No sane people. No professionals. Just radio silence.

The sun dipped lower. Shadows stretched across the living room.

But then Ivan realized...

“Oh. Right.”

The phone was still on silent.

Ivan groaned so loudly that Teddy flinched. He picked up the phone, checked it, and winced.

Twelve missed calls. Five voicemails.

Probably actual candidates. Normal people. People who didn’t follow him home.

He just wasted hours on nothing. Ivan stared at the screen, then at the window. He needed air.

Just— air.

He stepped outside, leaving the phone behind. Teddy trotted after him. The breeze was cool. Calming. It smelled like dusk. And poor decisions.

And then—

“Hi again.”

Ivan jumped.

There, still sitting on the porch like a deeply committed fungus, was Till.

Same all-white outfit. Same smug, patient (irritated?) smile. The kind of smile that said, Yeah, I waited. I’m annoying and proud of it.

“I assumed you might need some time to think,” Till said, syrupy sweet, contrasting his wild hair and disheveled clothes. “I’m very understanding like that.”

Ivan stared at him. Then at the sun setting behind him. Then back at his face. His very symmetrical, oddly pretty  smug face. Teddy trotted straight to Till and licked his hand like an old friend. Traitor.

Ivan exhaled through his nose. It was late. He needed someone tomorrow. This guy was persistent. Committed. Oddly... cute.

That shouldn’t matter, but it kind of did.

Whatever. He was a superhero. What could one unhinged fan actually do?

“You start tomorrow,” Ivan said, deadpan. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Till lit up like he’d just been handed the keys to the kingdom.

“Oh, you definitely will.”

Ivan paused.

“…What?”

“Nothing! Thank you so much! I won’t let you down! ”

Teddy barked, tail wagging in support.

Ivan sighed again. Louder this time. He could already hear Sua’s annoying, stupid, patronizing voice. And honestly? He was too tired to regret it.

Chapter Text

Till slammed the boutique door shut. “YES!”  

The noise earned him a disappointed tongue-click from his mother.  

“How did it go?” Mizi asked from her spot beside Io.  

If Till’s nose could grow, it would have. “It was easy!”  

“That’s why it took you half a day?”  

“Shut up, Hyuna.”  

He took off his shoes and neatly placed them on the shoe rack.  

“It took so long because that freak thought I was a stalker.”  

“Aren’t you, though?” Hyun-Woo walked in, wearing an apron.  

“I didn’t stalk him; I just gave him some unwanted and repeated surveillance to triangulate his address!”  

“Whatever, dear,” Io sighed, rubbing her sore shoulders. “Hyun-Woo, are you finished with the kitchen?”  

“Yes, Auntie. Come eat, you guys!”  

Hyuna cheered and was the first to bolt toward the dining room. Mizi and Hyun-Woo quickly followed, mostly out of fear that Hyuna would eat everything and leave nothing for them.  

Before Till could join them, Io raised a hand, stopping him.  

He took her hand gently. “Yes, Ma?”  

She gave him a soft smile. “Sweetheart, you know you don’t have to do this anymore, right? We’ve got the boutique. It puts food on our table.”  

“Mama...” Till crouched down beside her. “It’s not just about food anymore. Not for me.”  

Io shook her head. “Then what is it about?”  

Till didn’t answer. Instead, Io cupped his cheek, caressing it gently.  

“Son, it’s a dangerous world out there.”  

Till leaned into her hand. “I know, Ma... I know. ”  

Io raised a brow. “It’s already hard enough taking care of a child who can talk .”  

Till scoffed, grinning. “Seriously, Ma. I can handle it. How hard could it be?”  

Io frowned, clearly unconvinced. "Are you sure you won't regret this?" 

"Pfft— I'm not gonna—" 

"I regret this." Till muttered to himself as Ivan recited a list of rules longer than Hyuna’s hair.  

“Teddy likes to play with blue toys during the day and yellow toys at night. Not that you’ll need the yellow toys much, I’ll be home by five.”  

“Why does he need different colors of toys at different times of day?”  

“Teddy is a very particular dog.”  

Teddy barked in agreement.  

Till shot the dog a judgmental stare. “Okay, yeah. Whatever.”  

“Wow, your infomercial charm really disappeared the second I hired you.”  

“My mother says I’m charming.”  

“Of course she does.”  

Ivan pulled on his combat boots. “Remember where everything is, don’t steal anything, and Teddy better not be dead when I get home.”  

“Yes, sir.”  

“Oh, and Teddy has a separate pantry for his food. It’s the red cupboard with a paw print. The food in the fridge labeled with your name is for you.”  

“Oh,” Till hummed, slightly touched. “You got me a snack—”  

“Bye.” Ivan closed the door.  

Till’s eye twitched. If only that bastard could be this indifferent when he’s in costume.   

He watched him walk away through the window, Teddy beside him, beady eyes following his owner as Ivan made his way down the driveway and stepped into a Hero Assembly-issued car. sleek, armored, and unnecessarily shiny, with the damn logo even engraved on the rims.  

Till sneered. So pretentious. These heroes walk around like gods, then hire bodyguards for themselves like they’re helpless civilians. For what? The guy’s a superhero. He scoffed and turned around, only to come face-to-snout with Teddy, who had a blue rubber rat clenched between his teeth.  

Till blinked. “No.”  

Teddy squeaked it once. Loudly.  

“I said no.”  

The dog wagged his tail and squeaked it again. And again.  

Till ignored him, walking past and straight into Ivan’s sterile, overly tidy living room. Time to snoop.  

He started in the obvious places—drawers, cabinets, under the couch cushions, in his underwear drawer... Any paperwork. Letters. Loose USBs...

Teddy followed closely, blue rubber rat still in his mouth, squeaking it every five seconds. Till threw a pillow. Teddy caught it mid-air and got even more excited.  

Till hissed, “Go away, gremlin!”  

“Bork!”  

Undeterred, Till moved into the office. He dug through filing cabinets and came up with a dusty old binder. Till’s heart sped up. Could it be blackmail? Scandalous history? Secret enemy correspondence?  

Nope.  

It was a high school photo album.  

Till flipped through the pages with mounting disappointment. Every picture showed Ivan being a disgustingly well-adjusted, pretty and popular jock. Football MVP, prom king, volunteering at animal shelters. One photo even had him hugging a kitten with one arm and holding a trophy in the other.  

Till squinted. “Is that Photoshop?”  

Teddy barked.  

“It has to be Photoshop...”  

Till snapped the album closed. Onward now!  

Till rummaged through a drawer labeled and found a hard drive. Jackpot?

He plugged it into the office computer, praying for sensitive files on the Hero Assembly. corruption, black ops, secret missions, something. Instead, thousands of high-res, lovingly labeled pictures of Teddy. Teddy in the bath. Teddy in a sweater. Teddy at the beach. Teddy’s birthday party...

Till groaned and looked over his shoulder. Teddy stared at him proudly, head tilted, and one paw raised, posing.  

“Of course it’s all about you.”  

“Bork.”  

The search continued. Teddy, undeterred, bounced behind Till, licking his leg occasionally, dragging toys over, and sitting on things he needed. A furry, panting, relentless distraction.  

Then Finally, Teddy decided to be useful for once and knocked over a stack of old books while using a bookshelf as a tunnel. A red notebook stands out among the rest.  

Till’s eyes narrowed. “What do we have here…”  

He opened it. Handwriting, a bit shaky at first, filled the pages. Ivan’s name was written on the inside cover. A diary.   

It started when he was a child, detailing his picture-perfect life. Then, deeper in, his and Sua’s first moments discovering their powers, the fear, the excitement, the trials, and eventually joining the Assembly.  

Till’s lips curled into a smile. Jackpot.   

He pulled out his digital camera and began snapping photos of anything that could hint at vulnerabilities, emotional pressure points, or anything he could use.  

Teddy sat beside him, finally quiet, watching like a co-conspirator.  

When Till finished, he shut the diary with a satisfied sigh and turned to Teddy.  

“Fine.”  

Teddy barked excitedly.  

Till tossed him a blue toy.  

“For the record, you're still annoying as hell.”  

Teddy innocently sticks his tongue out. 

Chapter Text

The next time Till went out as the Unknown, he wasn’t just armed with a gun; he was armed with knowledge. 

Specifically, the juicy, handwritten-by-baby-Ivan kind of knowledge. 

Ivan’s diary. Page 73: 

“Clowns are the devil. Their smiles are creepy, their eyes more so. They’re so ridiculous, they border on uncanny. Sua teased me about it, but she doesn’t understand. Those things kidnap kids in their free time, I'm sure of it.” 

Till took that and ran with it. If he couldn’t physically win against Ivan in a tussle, he’ll have to win via psychological warfare. 

So, he didn’t wear a rat mask or a red cloak. That day, he emerged in a white mask with a cartoonishly wide blue smile and a bulbous red nose. His outfit was bright and neon with white polka dots. And on his feet were comically oversized shoes that squeaked with every step, like a sad rubber duck (or a sad Teddy). 

And the cherry on top? A massive, fluffy rainbow wig. 

The rest of the colony, clad in sleek tactical gear and actual dignity, just stared, wondering if he was high. Or unraveling. Or both. 

Till didn’t say a word and just walked past them, clown shoes squeaking down the hallway. He didn’t mind the judgment; after all, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Ivan wouldn't know what hit him!

The event hall oozed generational wealth. Crystal chandeliers, champagne waterfalls, at least three chocolate sculptures shaped like unicorns, and two like Chappell Roan. Fitting for a billionaire’s birthday party. 

Even the pianist was wearing a Rolex. 

Perfect place to draw the heroes out too, especially with the strong scent of nepotism in the air. 

BANG! BANG! 

Till shot two warning shots into the ceiling. Pink Pony Club stopped playing, and screams erupted. 

“GET DOWN!” Till shouted, in a voice both commanding and hilariously muffled by the clown mask. 

“The Colony!” someone shrieked. 
“Oh, Great Beyond!” 
“Where are the heroes?!” 

Till drowned the panicked voices out. He turned to Hyun-Woo. “Stand by the lights.” 

Hyun-Woo retreated. 

Every step Till took announced itself with a joyful honk. 

He strutted towards a ten-tier cake, where an understandably horrified man in a glittery pink sash that screamed BIRTHDAY BOY and a probably-branded tiara stood. 

“Wh-who are you?” the man stammered. 

Till squatted dramatically in front of the terrified billionaire. 

“Don’t you recognize me?” he taunted. 

The man shakes his head, and Till leans in to whisper by his ear, “The Unknown.” 

The man blinked. “Like- Like the masked monster from that one Willy Wonka incident?” 

Till sputtered. “NO! I’m Unknown. THE Unknown. You know, villain, menace, source of your nightmares?" 

“You look... different.” 

“It's a conscious aesthetic choice. You know what?" 

Till shot another bullet into the air. 

The billionaire promptly hid behind a life-sized cake version of himself. His tiara slid down. 

“Everyone! Place all your worldly goods into the bags! Phones, wallets, watches—heck, let’s take the gifts too!” 

People complied immediately, dropping everything they had into Mizi and Hyuna’s oversized sacks. 

Then—CRASH!

A window exploded, and two figures made their dramatic entrance and landed in superhero poses. In all their glory, with their matching Hero Association white costumes and matching bangs, were the heroes Ivan and Universe. 

Till grinned under the mask. “Ivan! You made it! I put on this whole performance just for you!” 

Ivan squinted. “Who...?” 

“It’s me, Unknown!” 

Ivan squints harder, then grins. “Unknown! I... Unknown? You look...” 

“Terrifying? Till spread his arms out, flaunting the outfit. “I KNOW. Through a very reliable source, I found your greatest fear... Clowns!” 

"Oh." Ivan goes back to squinting. "What?” 

“See, I realized that hey, if you’re frozen in fear, you can’t think clearly enough to freeze me, can you?” 

A moment of silence. 

Then, Ivan winced. “Sorry, dear, your information is... A little outdated.” 

Till froze. “...What?” 

“It was just a childhood fear, Knowie. I’m good now.” Ivan waved a hand in dismissal. “How’d you even find out about that?” 

Till sputtered. “But—but I had a whole theme planned! The shoes squeak! I bought a wig for this!” 

“Aw...” Ivan put a hand against his chest. “Want me to pretend for you? I will, if you ask~” 

“You know what? Forget it!” Till growled, pointing his gun at Ivan. 

"Let's not take too long, I left Teddy at home alone..." Ivan cracked his neck. “Let’s make this quick, Know-know~.” His pupils flashed red. 

Till froze. Panic and regret punched him in the gut. 

‘Damn it, I should’ve shot him on sight!’ 

Ivan strolled up to him like a cat about to knock over a glass. 

“I have to say,” Ivan murmured, circling Till like a predator admiring its lunch, “this was a lot of effort. And all of this... Is for me?”  He glanced over the costume and smiled a little too wide. 

“Y’know,” Ivan licks his snaggletooth, “I didn’t expect this. I’m touched, truly.” 

Till’s heart went into overdrive as Ivan placed his hands around his throat, his sharp nails digging really hard into Till’s skin. 

“You just make this so fun.” 

CRASH! A bottle broke over Ivan’s head. 

“Ti-Unknown!” Mizi yelled, dropping the neck of the broken bottle. 

The spell broke, and Till gasped, falling back like a wet noodle. 

Universe moved fast and pulled her whip out, capturing Mizi. 

Hyuna lunged at her, but Universe was quick to use her power. 

“Sleep.” 

Hyuna faceplanted, unable to resist her command. 

The lights went out, and Hyun-Woo, now teleported in Hyuna’s place, delivered a glorious punch to Universe’s jaw. 

“Unknown!” he yelled. 

Till grabbed hold of the shadows and wrapped them around his and his team’s bodies like silk. With a tug, they sank into the dark, vanishing off to a nearby alley. 

The team caught their breath, adrenaline coursing through their veins. 

Hyun-Woo picked up the unconscious Hyuna. 

“That... That was...” 

Till’s hand crawled up to his neck, feeling Ivan’s nail marks on his skin. He grits his teeth. 

“Damn it.” 

When the lights returned, applause erupted. 

The crowd cheered. The heroes? Less thrilled. 

Universe rubbed her jaw. “Goddammit, Ivan. What were you doing?! We had distraction training!” 

Ivan watched as his blood dripped onto his pristine white clothes. That bottle hurt.

“Sua... How did they know about the clown thing?” 

Sua, better known as Universe, groaned. “Codenames, Ivan!” 

Ivan snorted. “You didn’t sell my info, did you?” 

Sua deadpanned, “You probably mentioned it in an interview. Don’t flatter yourself.” She slapped his shoulder. “Do better next time, or there won’t be a next time.” 

Ivan nodded as his sister walked away. 

A small smile crept onto his face. 

“So... Unknown watches my interviews, huh...?” 

He lifted his fingers, the ones he had wrapped around Unknown’s neck, eyes darting to the specks of Unknown’s blood on his nails. 

and licked them. 

Chapter Text

Till hadn’t slept a wink.   

He spent the entire night tossing and turning, mentally replaying every last detail of his brilliant plan, which, in hindsight (or honestly, any sight), was ridiculous.  

He even roped his poor mother into sewing the outfit.  

Despite his sleep deprivation, the mission was still on. So, with huge eyebags that they were unfortunately not GUCCI, Till dragged himself over to Ivan’s place to dog-sit Teddy.  

His exhaustion must’ve been written all over his face, because the first thing Ivan said was, “You look awful.”  

Astute observation, Ivan.   

Till didn’t bother with a response. He just barged past Ivan like he was the landlord and made a beeline for the fridge. He couldn’t bear to look at Ivan, especially not after yesterday.  

He took the first snack he could grab, without a care if it was his or not.  

Ivan stared at him but wisely chose not to say anything.  

Till munched on the snack like it insulted his ancestors. Crumbs fell. He didn’t care. Hair? A mess. Eyes? Bloodshot. At least he wore a nice turtleneck.   

Teddy, bless his heart, waddled over and started licking up the crumbs, mentally declaring Till his new best friend.  

Ivan raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with you?”  

Till answered with aggressive chewing.  

“You look tired.”  

“Thank you,” Till replied. Crunch.   

Ivan shook his head. So much for communication.  

‘Fine then,’ he thought to himself, ‘let’s skip the small talk and get to the point.’   

Ivan clears his voice before starting, “I was going to ask you about something…”   

Till paused mid-bite. “About what? ”  

Ivan crossed his arms. “So, the last time you were here… you didn’t touch anything, did you? ”  

Till’s blood ran cold.

“No,” he lied, scoffing for dramatic effect. “Why would I? ”   

“I think you did.”   

‘Damn it.’  

Till subtly backed into the shadowy part of the kitchen, prepared to activate his powers when needed.   

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”   

Ivan sighed, something he’d done a lot since adopting Teddy. “I’m not going to fire you over it.”   

Till tilted his head. “You’re not? ”  

Ivan shook his head.   

“Why?”   

“Well,” Ivan said, shrugging, “I kind of expected it from a sasaeng.”   

Till’s jaw dropped. “Wha- Sasaeng?! I’m not a sasaeng!”   

“You stalked me and harassed me into giving you a job.”   

“I didn’t do it out of devotion or anything—! you know what? What is this about? ”  

Till crossed his arms higher than Ivan’s, just to prove a point.   

“My...” Ivan cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “My… uh. My underwear drawer.”   

Till choked on air. “Huh?”   

“When I got home, I took a shower. I opened my drawer, and everything was... a mess. ”   

If anyone had looked closely, they might’ve seen a loading bar appear on Till’s face before it turned beet red.   

“I didn’t—I wasn’t—”   

“What were you doing with my underwear, then? ”   

Well, Till couldn’t exactly say he was snooping for blackmail material, could he? So he said nothing. Just stood there in awkward silence.   

“I didn’t know which ones you touched, so I didn’t wear underwear that night.”  

‘You’re that much of a germaphobe?! ’    

“I didn’t wear any the next day either. Luckily, Unknown didn’t look down.”   

‘YOU FOUGHT ME WHILE GOING COMMANDO?! ’   

“I’m wearing some now, though. I burned all my old ones and bought new ones.”   

‘WAY TO OVERREACT! ’    

“I mean, I can’t judge too hard. If I were you, and this was Know-Know’s house, I’d probably do the same.”   

‘HUHHH?!’    

The bastard had the audacity to blush.   

Till wanted to crawl into the fridge and stay there forever.   

Ivan finally concluded, “So please, Mr. Sasaeng,”

‘Not a sasaeng!’

“Refrain from touching my underwear next time.’”   

He paused, then added, “In fact, reel in your sasaeng instincts, and maybe I’ll give you used underwear.”   

Till’s face twisted in horror. “You really don’t need to do that.”   

“No, no, I insist.”   

Ivan ran his hands through his hair, posing like he’s in one of his ads. “I’m a hero, Till. It’s my duty to save everyone, even weirdos like you. In this case, I’m saving you from unemployment.” He threw finger guns. “You’re welcome, cutie.”   

Till wanted to go home.   

He gave Ivan a shaky smile.   

“Got it, boss.”   

“I’ll leave you to it, then. I’m off,” Ivan said and turned to leave.   

When the door shut behind him, Till let out a long breath of relief.   

He turned to Teddy. “How do you stand living with that guy?” 

Teddy let out a yip. 

“Well, Teddy, let’s go snooping.”  

Till moved through the house, going room to room, cracking open to see what’s inside. 

“Guest room. Laundry room... A room with nothing but a speaker? Who lives like this?” he muttered.  

Teddy followed after him, tail wagging like they were on the greatest adventure of their lives.  

Finally, Till found Ivan’s office. He slipped inside. The air smelled like paper and... seawater? His desk, filing cabinet, and bookshelves were too polished, too… perfect.  It was uncanny, like its owner. 

He went straight to the filing cabinet. Nothing useful in the top drawer. Just folders labeled with boring things like "Receipts" and "Properties." The middle drawer had more of the same.   

Then he reached for the bottom drawer—   

Click.   

Locked.  

Of course.   

Squeak.  

He turned around slowly.   

Teddy stood there, blue rubber ball clenched in his jaws, eyes sparkling with excitement.  

“No,”  

Squeak.   

“Dude. Seriously?”   

The ball squeaked again as Teddy stepped closer like a demanding little bitch. 

Without breaking eye contact, Till plucked the ball from Teddy’s mouth and hurled it toward the hallway.   

“Fetch, boy!”   

Teddy took off like a rocket, paws skidding across the hardwood.   

Till turned back to the drawer, pulling a bobby pin from his hoodie pocket. He slid the pin into the lock. A couple of quick, practiced twists.   

Click.   

The drawer unlocked. 

“Thanks, Ma,” he muttered.  

Inside the drawer was a stack of neatly kept files. Each one had a name handwritten on the tab.  

Unsha. Ivan’s father. Ruthless businessman who built half of Anakt. The file was thick, detailing contracts, lawsuits, magazine covers, and news clippings.  

Nigeh. Ivan’s late mother. Fashion world legend. Her file was smaller but full of media clippings, elegant sketches, and one sharp black-and-white portrait that looked like it could pierce through his soul.  

And then…  

Sua.   

Till hesitated.  

Everyone knew Universe. The Hero Assembly’s third most popular hero, able to make anyone fall asleep. It was an open secret that Universe was Ivan’s sister, Sua. Not confirmed, but not denied, either. Still, the file contents were… weird.  

Surveillance photos. Mission reports. Notes in Ivan’s handwriting, cold and clinical. A list of her strengths and her weaknesses.  

“Who keeps reports on their sister?” Till muttered, frowning.  

He snapped pictures of every page of all three files.  

Then he carefully put everything back, closed the drawer, relocked it, and stood up.  

He stepped outside the office—  

“Till?”  

Till jumped, clutching the camera to his chest.  

Ivan glanced from the camera to Till, then back again.  

“What were you doing in my office?”  

Till opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.  

Ivan ‘s eyes narrowed. “Was it something pervy?”  

Till inhaled sharply, giving up. “…Yes.”  

“Alright then.” Ivan stepped past him casually. “Have you seen my phone? It—”  

Ivan's foot landed squarely on Teddy’s squeaky ball. The squeak was followed by a yelp, then:  

CRACK.   

“…Shit.” 

Chapter Text

"Breaking news!" the anchor's voice blared from the TV.  "A dramatic battle erupted atop the Anakt City Museum. Eyewitnesses say top heroes Luka and Universe were seen clashing with members of the Colony. However, neither the Colony’s leader, Unknown, nor their usual nemesis, Ivan, were present at the scene. Let’s cut to Vivi Nos, reporting live—"  

Till guiltily switched the channel and poured kibble into Teddy’s bowl.  

Ivan had been out of commission for a week thanks to a broken arm. In his absence, the League had paired Luka with Universe, a combo that didn’t exactly work together well but was, unfortunately for the bad guys, terrifyingly effective.  

With Luka’s ability to manipulate light, disguising himself or blinding enemies in a flash, and Sua’s voice that could knock anyone out (not that she even needed it; her fists could get the job done), the Colony couldn’t trust their eyes or their ears. 

Which meant Till needed to get Ivan back on the field. Fast.   

He handed Ivan a bowl of ice cream.  

"Thanks," Ivan said, eyeing it suspiciously. "But you didn’t have to."  

"No, no, I insist," Till replied with a bright smile.  

Ivan glanced between the ice cream and Till, distrustful. Fans have handed him white and sticky stuff before, and it wasn’t ice cream. "Mr. Sasaeng, I’m not paying you."  

Till waved him off. "It’s fine. I threw the ball into the hall; it’s my fault you broke your arm."  

"That was Teddy’s fault."  

"No, no, as the pet sitter, it’s on me."  

With ceremonious flair, Till pulled a half-melted chocolate bar from his pocket and placed it gently on Ivan’s lap.  

Ivan stared at it like it might be radioactive. He pinched it between two fingers, held it at arm’s length, then dropped it onto the side table like it was a used condom.  

Till bowed.  

"You're welcome."  

"I didn't thank you."  

Till ignored him, putting his hands together. "I thought the calcium might help."  

Ivan squinted at it. "It looks like it’s been in your pants for weeks..." He shivered. "No thanks. Besides, I already have a reliable calcium source."  

He pulled out a small shaker from his pocket and dusted white powder over his ice cream.  

Till narrowed his eyes. "Is that... crack?"  

"Powdered eggshells."  

"Powdered eggsh—" Till gagged mid-sentence as Ivan shoved a spoonful of vanilla-and-eggshell in his mouth.  

"You’re overreacting," Ivan mumbled through a bite.  

"Sorry," Till coughed. "You're just giving off strong ‘I drink blended spinach for breakfast’ energy."  

"I do."  

Till gagged again and Ivan rolled his eyes. 

"You're like a lifestyle influencer..." he muttered.  

"What was that?"  

"Nothing!" Till straightened and gave Ivan a big, innocent smile. "Just hoping you'll get better soon."  

Ivan, reminded of his situation, suddenly looked dismayed. He stabbed at his ice cream and for the millionth time, sighed. 

"Me too... Stupid Hero Assembly...” He sniffled dramatically, mood quickly shifting. "I’m so sad I won’t be able to fight Knowie... I miss him so much! I’ll miss his kicks... His punches... For now, I’ll just replay the memory of Know-Know kicking me in the crotch."  

Weird, but Till was getting used to it. 

Ivan tilted his head back. "Ah, and as much as I appreciate you, Till, I don’t need a dog-sitter while I’m home. Thanks for coming today, though. I still won’t pay you."  

Till grinned. That wouldn’t do, it could set the mission back for weeks . 

He burst into exaggerated laughter. "AHAHAHAHAHA! I’ll still come every day just to be sure!"  

"I’m not paying."  

"My services are free!"  

"I’ll pay you to stay away."  

"Still coming!"  

Till gave a snappy two-finger salute as he headed to the door.  
"I’ll see you tomorrow."  

"Please no."   

Click . The door shut behind him.  

At home, Till furiously typed into his computer.  

"How... long... does... a... broken arm... take to... heal?"  

4–6 weeks.   

"FOUR TO— I don’t have that much time! 

How to... heal... broken arm... fast?"  

Keep the arm immobilized. Avoid excess salt, sugar, and caffeine. Maintain moderate physical activity.   

Till rubbed his chin and clicked his tongue.  

"On second thought... maybe giving Ivan ice cream and chocolate was a bad idea..."  

He resumed clicking, scouring the internet for home remedies, cheap healers and food. Anything that might fix a fractured arm in less than a week. Or better yet, a day.  

Suddenly, a loud SLAM! echoed through the house, followed by Hyun-Woo’s unmistakable yell:  

"IOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"   

Till sprang from his chair and rushed to the doorway, just in time to see Hyuna and Hyun-Woo dragging an unconscious Luka through the hall.  

Till gapes at the sight, pointing a finger at the blonde. 

"THAT BETTER NOT BE WHO I THINK IT IS!"  

"TILL! TILL! YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!" Hyun-Woo shouted and promptly dropped Luka’s head with a thud. 

Hyuna yelped as it bounced on the floor. "Hyun-Woo! Watch it!"  

"Later, Hyuna!” Hyun-Woo fanned himself. “Listen, we thought he was Mizi and-"  

"Where’s Mizi?" Till snapped.  

"That’s what I’m trying to tell you!" Hyun-Woo started to hyperventilate. "We left her!"  

"YOU LEFT MIZI?!"  

"LukawarpedthelightaroundhimsohelookedlikeMiziandwethoughtitwashereventhoughshewasn’ttalkingandanywayshe’sstillbacktherewithUniversebecausewewerealreadyhalfwaythroughthecity-"  

Till threw up both hands like he was calming a wild animal.  

"Hyun-Woo. Breathe."   

Hyun-Woo hunched over, catching his breath.   

"Mizi’s still back there. With Universe."  

“MIZI WHAT?!”   

"It’s fine," Hyuna added, raising Luka’s arm. "If she gets captured, we’ve got this guy. We can negotiate."  

Luka groaned faintly.  

Till sprang into motion, grabbing a blanket while the twins dumped Luka into Till’s ergonomic office chair. They swiftly and tightly tied the blonde up.  

From the hallway, Io’s voice rang out.  

"What’s with all that noise?!"   

"Kidnapping!" the three called back in perfect unison.  

"Ah. I’ll start cooking, then."   

Till planted both hands on his head, staring at the scene in front of him.  

The tied-up body, the sweaty twins, and the website on his computer advertising a healing service for 2 dollars painted quite a ridiculous picture. 

He exhaled slowly and exchanged glances with the twins.  

"Well... fuck."  

Chapter Text

Luka woke to a scent he couldn’t place. It was rich. Savory. Mouthwatering.

His stomach growled in response.

He opened his eyes, only to find darkness.

“Ah,” he muttered. “A blindfold. I’ve been kidnapped.”

The lack of sight enhanced the noises around him: slurping, chewing, metal clinking on ceramic. A symphony of eating noises. 

His misophonia made him hate it, but hunger overpowered it. Whatever they were having, he wanted in.

“…Hello?” he called.

Shuffling. A muffled thump. Panicked whispers. Then silence.

The blindfold was yanked off.

Light stabbed his eyes. Luka winced. Even with his ability to control light, his vision always needed a moment to adjust.

As the blur cleared, three masked figures came into focus. Familiar masked figures at that.

His gaze settled on one in particular.

“Unknown. You’ve been gone for a while.”

“I was busy,” came the flat reply.

Luka didn’t press. His eyes drifted to the table beside the where the source of that heavenly smell came from. Sat atop was a plate of oddly colored chicken wings. His foot began tapping with unrestrained enthusiasm.

“Can I have some of that?” he asked, nodding at the plate.

The trio exchanged looks, then collectively turned their attention to the chicken, like it had just become a sentient witness.

Hyuna raised a brow. “Shouldn’t you be— I don’t know, panicking? Threatening us?”

“You are threatening me,” Luka said seriously. “With starvation. Feed me, and we’ll talk.”

A beat passed. Then Hyun-Woo slowly stepped forward, chicken in hand, like he was offering it to a wild animal.

Luka took a bite. Chewed. And chewed again.

His eyes lit up.

“This is… really good,” he mumbled through a mouthful. “What is it?”

Till scratched the back of his neck. “Garlic chicken?”

“Garlic chicken…” Luka repeated dreamily, licking sauce from the corner of his mouth. “What’s in it?”

“…Garlic.”

“That can’t be it. My chefs use garlic all the time. This tastes…” He paused to chew again. “Like the sea. But sweet.”

Hyuna squinted. “You mean… salt?”

“Salt,” Luka echoed with reverence. “Right... I know what that is... I don’t get a lot of that.”

Hyun-Woo pulled the chicken back. Luka looked betrayed, like someone had threatened his firstborn child.

Hyun-Woo cleared his throat. “Okay, Luka. We need you to cooperate. We’re not gonna hurt you, but you are our bargaining chip.”

“I feel quite hurt.”

Without a word, Hyun-Woo raised the chicken wing again. Luka resumed nibbling, like a puppy.

“Here’s the deal,” Hyun-Woo continued. “You impersonated Clematis. We may have… left her behind. When the heroes contact us, we’ll set up a swap. Clean and quick. No funny business. Stay put, behave. Got it?”

Luka nodded slowly, eyes still locked on the chicken. He clearly had no idea what he’d just agreed to.

Hyun-Woo turned to the others. Till was hunched over his phone.

“Anything from Clematis?” Hyuna asked, arms crossed.

“Nada.” Till refreshed again, as if sheer willpower would change the screen.

Hyuna let out a frustrated growl. “It’s been hours. Where is she?!”

“Maybe we should go back,” Hyun-Woo offered. “Maybe she didn’t get captured. Maybe she-”

“Don’t jinx it, ‘Woo.” Hyuna cut him off, pacing again. “If she escaped, why hasn’t she come back?”

Then,

“Oh my!”

Io’s gasp echoed from downstairs.

They rushed out the door and looked down to see Mizi stumbling through the front door. Bruised. Lipstick smeared. Hair a mess. She looked like she'd crawled out of a wind tunnel.

“Mi—Clem!” Till dashed down to meet her. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing hair from her face. “Looks worse than it is.”

From above, Hyuna yelled, “Wait, does that mean we keep the white guy?!”

“I don’t mind,” Luka called from the room.

“Shut up!” the house snapped in unison.

Mizi blinked up. “Wait. Is that why you left me?! You kidnapped the top hero?!”

“They thought he was you!” Till threw up his hands. “Also, did you seriously fight Universe for hours? I knew I should’ve came to get you.”

“No, I…” Mizi coughed, flustered. “I got away pretty early, actually.”

Till exhaled. “Okay. That’s good.”

He helped her upstairs, back to his room where Luka sat comfortably cuffed.

As Till tended to Mizi’s wounds, Hyuna folded her arms again. “Well now what? We’ve got Luka, but no clue what to do with him.”

There was a beat of silence.

Till tapped his chin. “We could… recruit him?”

Hyun-Woo blinked. “Recruit him?”

“Yeah,” Till said, warming to it. “Recruit him."

Luka raised an eyebrow. “So this is your master plan?”

“Yes,” Till said solemnly. “Our benefits package beats the Hero Assembly by a mile. I understand your loyalty lies with—”

“I’m not loyal at all,” Luka cut in.

Hyuna narrowed her eyes. “Oh, come on. You don’t expect us to believe that.”

Luka shrugged.

Mizi folded her arms. “Maybe we shouldn’t waste our time. He’s not going to join us.”

Hyun-Woo tilted his head. “So we kill him?”

“No!” Till said immediately. “Killing’s off the table. But giving him back? That’s off the table too. This is a rare opportunity.”

“Then we threaten him,” Hyun-Woo suggested.

“With what?” Hyuna rolled her eyes. “Cardiac arrest via garlic chicken?”

Luka perked up. “Chicken?”

Hyuna glared.

Luka, unfazed, continued, “I like that it tastes like something. Poor people really have it figured out.”

Mizi sighed. “Poor guy’s never heard of seasoning.”

“Back on topic.” Till stepped forward dramatically. “Tell me, Hero Luka… what is your greatest desire?”

Luka looked down, contemplative. Then slowly raised his head.

“…Chicken.”

Till stared. “That can’t be it.”

“I live in a mansion. I’m rich, famous and painfully attractive,” Luka listed off. “and this is good food.”

Everyone stared at him.

Then, Hyuna lit up. “I got it!”

She dashed out and returned with a metal case. The group froze as she popped it open, revealing a set of remote-controlled bombs.

“Hyuna,” Till warned. “Don’t.”

But she was already walking toward Luka.

“Desperate times.”

She slid a hand under Luka’s shirt and- click -secured the device to his back.

Luka flinched. “That’s… cold.”

“Homemade to blow up vaults.” Hyuna said sweetly, holding up the remote. “Try to take it off? Boom. Betray us? Boom. You’re ours now. Got it, Snowboy?”

Luka blinked.

“…Do I get paid in food?”

Chapter Text

The moment Ivan heard his bedroom door slam open, he sighed. That could only have been one person. He would have to replace the hinges again, it seemed.  

He didn’t bother turning around; he just calmly zipped up his suitcase.  

“Is that a suitcase?” Till asked, already behind him, peering over his shoulder. “Where are you going? Flying off to a runway overseas, perhaps?”  

Ivan ignored him, opening a second suitcase to start packing his hero gear.  

Till took that as a yes and an opportunity to snoop as much as he liked. 

“I could totally house-sit while you’re gone,” Till continued. “Water your plants, scare off burglars, all that stuff.”  

Ivan one-handedly folded a tactical jacket.  

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m going on a family trip. My father’s birthday’s coming up.”  

Till nodded with exaggerated seriousness.  

“Ah, of course. Family is very important. Please give your father my warmest regards. But hey, if you need someone to defend your house from, say, arsonists... I volunteer.”  

“I don’t need anything, Till,” Ivan said gently but firmly. “Everything’s arranged.”  

“I’ll do it for free,” Till insisted.  

Ivan zipped the gear bag with finality.  

“There’s nothing left for you to sniff. I did my laundry.”  

Till snapped his fingers. 

“Okay, what if I gave you printed photos of Unknown?”  

Ivan froze. His heart stuttered.  

“…Is it high-quality?”  

“Ultra-mega HD. Glossy finish. Some are candids.” Till said, like a man pitching a collector’s edition.  

Ivan’s ears turned faintly pink.  

“I- I can take my own photos the next time we fight.”  

He tossed a bundle of socks into the suitcase and snapped it shut. Till, uninvited as ever, picked it up and set it gently on the floor.  

“You think you don’t need a house sitter,” he said ominously. “But villain activity is up sixty-nine percent. Trust me, I checked.”  

“If I need help, I’ll call the Hero Assembly,” Ivan replied with a patient sigh.  

“Sure, sure,” Till murmured. “You wouldn’t want some unqualified stranger poking around your personal stuff.”  

Ivan gave him a side-eye.  

“You’re not even pretending to sound trustworthy.”  

“Good thing I’m just a harmless pervert and not a villain, right?" Till flashed a grin.  

Ivan stared at him for a beat too long.  

Then, calmly, he turned and unzipped a duffel bag.  

Till’s eye twitched when he spotted the contents: a full spread of Unknown-themed shirts, mugs, keychains, folded fleece blankets, and a sleek black notebook labeled “Battle Logs – DO NOT TOUCH."  

The merch were clearly custom-made. No self-respecting company would have produced villain paraphernalia.  

“You’re quite bold,” Ivan said, still not looking at him. “Admitting your… hobbies so casually.”  

“I believe in transparency,” Till replied, puffing up a little.  

“How noble of you, Mr.Sasaeng.”  

With a sigh, Ivan dropped onto the bed.  

Till followed and sat right next to him.  

Ivan looked defeated, slouched on the edge of the bed, eyes closed. He looked nothing like the nonchalant knight in shining armor they showed on TV.  

“Is it the arm?” Till asked.  

“No. Just tired.”  

“And stressed,” Till added. “Hero work?”  

Ivan shook his head. “My father.”  

“Ah.” Till waited. When Ivan didn’t elaborate, he tried again. “What about him?”  

Ivan gave a half-smile. A beat passed. He didn’t respond.  

They sat in awkward silence. Till glanced around the room, then his eyes lit up with an idea. 

“All right. I know what’ll loosen you up.”  

Ivan cracked an eye open.  

“I’m not sleeping with you.”  

“Ew.”  

“Huh?”  

“I mean, I won’t. Don’t worry,” Till said cheerfully, walking to Ivan’s mini-fridge and yanking it open. “I was talking about this,”  

He held up a sleek bottle of clear alcohol.  

Ivan didn’t even ask how he knew it was there. Of course Till would know.  

Till opened two bottles with his teeth, handing one out to Ivan.  

Ivan accepted it and took a sip.  

“So,” Till said casually, “how’s work?”  

“Small talk, really?”  

“Just go with it.”  

Ivan shrugged.  

“It’s fine,” he said. “The Assembly’s cool and all... It just doesn’t give you much freedom.”  

“What do you mean by that?”  

“Hm, let me think of an example...” Ivan swirled the drink. “I’m not allowed to get a partner.”  

Till blinked. 

“Wow. They put that in writing?”  

“Yep,” Ivan said. “It’s for my image. My sister, Sua, can date. But me? I’m the heartthrob. The public trusts me more when they have this... idea of me. Since they trust me, they trust the Assembly by proxy. They wanted to... preserve that.”  

Till let out a low whistle. 

“Sounds exhausting.”  

“Not just that.” Ivan looked down. “It’s isolating.”  

The conversation paused.  

Then Till leaned back with a smirk.  

“Still. Must be nice working with Sua. Working with family is always nice.”  

Ivan chuckled. 

“It’s not much different from not working with her. We barely talk.”  

“Why?”  

Ivan shrugged. 

“Issues, I guess. Our dad liked me more. Our mom liked her. We used to be close when we were kids, but once hero training started… we just drifted apart.”  

“That sucks.”  

“Yeah. It does.”  

“Still not gonna tell me what’s up with your dad?” 

“No.” 

They sat quietly, the alcohol mellowing everything out. Ivan looked up eventually, his eyes a little softer.  

“You know what?” he said, shaking his head with a small smile. “You’re quite the conversationalist. Fine.”  

Till immediately perked up. 

“So, can I housesit?”  

“No,” Ivan snorted. “You’re coming with me.”  

Till blinked. “...Sorry?”  

“I can’t always look after Teddy by myself. And honestly, I could use the extra hand.”  

“You’re inviting me to your family trip?” Till said slowly.  

“Yup.”  

“You think I’m a sasaeng, but you're asking me to come meet your dad?”  

“I’m asking someone who knows how to make themselves useful,” Ivan said with a smirk. “Besides, you’re Teddy’s nanny. Basically family at this point.”  

Till chuckled nervously. “I can stay here, y’know? No need to...”  

“It’s okay. I want you there. I don’t have friends, so it’s nice... talking with you.”  

Till’s eye twitched. “All right...”  

Ivan held up his bottle.  

“Cheers?”  

Till clinked his bottle against Ivan’s. 

Chapter Text

When Till got out of the plane, his legs looked like vibrating chopsticks. He used his luggage for support as he wobbled through Ivan's family's private airport.

Yes, you read that right. Private. Airport.

Ivan walked over. “Not used to it?” he asked.

Till shook his head.

“Yeah, I could tell,” Ivan said, like he wasn’t the reason Till now had jelly for bones. He then dumped Teddy into Till's arms and walked ahead.

Till glared at Ivan’s back, scoffing at the complete lack of concern. Teddy licked Till's chin, though. At least he had someone on his side.

They were then approached by a guy with hair shaped like a coconut.

“Good day, young master Ivan,” Coconut Hair greeted with a bow.

“You too, Acorn,” Ivan replied.

Acorn’s eyes flicked briefly to Till (and Teddy), then snapped right back to Ivan like Till didn’t exist.

“Please follow me to the car,” Acorn said, turning on his heel.

'Wow. He’s just as rude as his master.'

Their bags were whisked away by servants with terrifying efficiency, and they were ushered into a luxurious dark blue car with velvet seats.

Ivan buckled himself in and, without warning, fastened Till’s seatbelt too, like Till was five.

As Acorn drove, Till looked out the window. Everything screamed, "I come from generational wealth!"

The entire island looked like a vacation spot. Too bad it wasn’t. This was a private island owned by Ivan’s family, the Chois.

Apparently, it was used for “special events,” which probably included human sacrifices and tax evasion. You know, billionaire stuff.

All of that, though, paled in comparison to what Till saw when the car pulled up.

They were in front of an actual palace. Not a mansion. A palace.

“Till, get off.”

“Wait—is this where we’re staying?”

“Yes. Now get off.”

Till stumbled out, still holding Teddy, who squirmed a little to look around.

“This is your house?”

“Vacation house,” Ivan corrected, like it was completely normal to own a vacation house that would put Buckingham Palace to shame.

Acorn got out too and glided ahead of them, leading them through towering doors and into a hallway the size of a basketball court.

Servants bustled everywhere, all dressed like butlers. Every single one looked at Till like he’d peed on the carpets.

'Okay, so they’re all rude. Got it.'

Acorn stopped in front of a huge door.

“We’ve prepared your room, young master,” he said, opening it dramatically.

The room looked like it had been ripped straight from the pages of a fantasy manhwa.

Teddy squirmed out of Till’s arms, trotted in like he owned the place (he did), and immediately flopped onto a plush rug.

“Unfortunately,” Acorn added with a pause, “we weren’t informed about your... companion.”

Till resisted the urge to punch the guy.

“It’s my fault, I didn’t call ahead.” Ivan said casually, walking in. “Prepare a room for Till. Somewhere close. He’s Teddy’s nanny, he needs to be available at a moment’s notice.”

Acorn blinked. “Ah. Teddy’s nanny.” And just like that, he relaxed, as if being a servant suddenly made Till socially acceptable.

“Very well, young master.”

Servants flooded in, placing luggage into gold-trimmed storage units.

“The master expects you to attend dinner with him,” Acorn said, hands folded. “Please wear something nice.”

Ivan nodded. “Add a portion for Till.”

Acorn raised a brow. “He won’t be eating with the staff?”

“No. He’s Teddy’s nanny,” Ivan replied, as if that explained everything.

Acorn blinked, then nodded before disappearing with the rest of the servants.

Ivan took off his shoes and neatly placed them on the rack.

“You heard him, Till. You’ll be meeting my father. Wear something nice.”

Till gave him a dry look. “Do I look like I packed a tuxedo?”

“No, but try to look like you tried.”

Till rolled his eyes and flopped onto a chair.

“Okay, so, will I just carry Teddy around like a purse or what?”

Ivan sat down across from him.

“Pretty much. You’ll be with Teddy whenever possible, especially during the day. However, Teddy will not be with us during meals or activities that my father will be present in.”

Till tilted his head. “I’ll be eating with you?"

Ivan shrugged. “You’re a guest too, technically.”

"Who'll be watching Teddy?" 

"Acorn." 

Ivan took off his jacket.

"He can handle Teddy for the few minutes we'll be gone."

“...Right. And I can't just stay behind?”

“Most sasaengs wouldn’t even hesitate, you know,” Ivan said with a smirk. “You’re not just here as the nanny; you’re also technically my guest.”

Teddy yipped like he wholeheartedly agreed with this elevation in status.

Ivan paused, then added, like it was an afterthought he’d almost forgotten, “Oh, and try to be polite to my father.”

Till snorted. “When am I ever not polite?”

Ivan raised a brow.

“...Okay, fine.”

For reasons he couldn’t explain, Till felt a knot of nerves tighten in his stomach as he stood before the dining room doors. He adjusted the collar of his button-up shirt just as the twin servants pushed the doors open.

Inside was a grand dining table stretching the length of the room. At the far end sat a bearded man, his sharp gaze locked onto Till the moment the doors opened. It was Unsha Choi, Ivan’s father.

The resemblance was unmistakable. Those black, piercing eyes were just like Ivan’s when he tapped into his powers, only... colder.

Ivan nudged Till gently, urging him forward.

Reluctantly, Till stepped inside and slid into the seat beside him. The doors closed behind them with a weighty thud that felt like finality. There was no backing out now.

Till eyes met Unsha's, locked in some sort of tense staring contest. He blinked when a bead of sweat slipped into his eyelid.

Ivan cleared his throat. “Father, this is Till. Till, my father, Unsha Choi.”

Till managed a polite smile and a small nod. Unsha didn’t return it; he just frowned.

“…What is he? ”

“Sorry, Father? ” Ivan asked, taken aback.

Unsha leaned back in his chair. “This boy. What is he? What's his work? ”

“He’s Teddy’s nanny, Father.”

“A nanny…” Unsha repeated, the word heavy with judgment. He hummed. Till couldn’t tell if it was approval or disdain. His eyes scanned Till from head to toe. “I suppose fashion isn’t a requirement for that sort of work.”

Till looked at his outfit, then back at Unsha.

Then the old man tapped the table slowly with a thick, uncut fingernail.

“You know, most servants don’t eat with us.”

Till wished he could sink into the floor and vanish, but Unsha continued.

“Still, I suppose a nanny with poor fashion sense is better than whatever—whoever—your sister plans to bring.”

Ivan stiffened. “Sua’s bringing someone? ”

“Don't get too excited. I was ecstatic too, initially,” Unsha said with a sigh. “Then she told me it was a girlfriend.”

Ivan blinked, surprise flickering across his face. Beside him, Till bit his tongue, trying not to visibly judge.

'Is this one of those families where queerness is a scandal? '

Unsha clicked his tongue, disgust soft but unmistakable.

“She was always such a feminine girl. And now this? It’s that damn hero training you dragged her into, Ivan. Taught her to think like a man.”

Ivan withered. 

Till's hand twitched beneath the table. He wanted to reach over to comfort him or something, but he didn't want to draw the attention to himself.

So he stayed put. Silent. Invisible.

“Still,” Unsha added, “I suppose it’s fortunate you’ve brought a working-class stray instead of a boyfriend. Between you and your sister, I expected you to be fae.”

Unsha smiled faintly. “I’m relieved to see at least one of my children understands tradition.”

Till's hand twitched again. The people here really tested his patience.

The doors opened, and for a brief second, Till felt a flicker of relief. He knew he couldn’t leave, but the sight of the open exit reminded him that escape, at least in theory, still existed.

Then came the unmistakable clacking of heels against marble.

A figure stepped forward: a short girl with cropped black hair and striking violet eyes. Confident, poised. Sua.

Right behind her was another woman, taller, with long, familiar pink hair that shimmered under the chandelier light. Her sharp green eyes scanned the room with barely concealed awe.

Till’s breath caught in his throat. The world tunneled for a moment.

He stood up so fast he nearly toppled his chair.

“MIZI?!”

The taller girl froze, her mouth slightly open in equal surprise.

“…Till?”

Chapter Text

Sua glanced between Mizi and Till, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"You know him?"

"I... uh..." Mizi faltered, caught off guard. "Yeah, he's... a friend."

Till tried to stay composed, but no matter how hard he worked to rationalize what he was seeing, nothing made sense. Mizi was here. At this dinner. As Sua's girlfriend.

Sua studied Till’s face, suspicious. He quickly averted his eyes. 

"...Okay," She hesitantly said. Then, with a firm hand on Mizi’s waist, she guided her to the chair across from Ivan and Till.

Unsha, seated at the head of the table, clasped his hands together.

"I am... delighted that we're having this dinner together. It's been far too long."

"Indeed," Ivan agreed, voice cool. "We haven’t had a family dinner in almost a year."

Unsha nodded solemnly. 

"It hasn’t been the same since Nigeh passed."

A sudden coughing fit overtook him. He rubbed his chest, breath ragged. Neither Ivan nor Sua moved to check on him.

Mizi and Till exchanged a quick awkward glance.

When Unsha finally caught his breath, he continued, his voice hoarser.

"I’m grateful you both came, despite..." He shot Mizi a look of mild disgust. "...the rot in our relationship."

Sua's fingers laced around Mizi’s and squeezed tightly.

"The rot in our relationship, or the rot in me?" she snapped. "Do you have a problem, Father?"

"Sua..." Ivan cautioned.

Sua didn’t look away. Her glare locked with Unsha’s. The room held its breath.

After a long, tense pause, Unsha was the first to avert his eyes.

"...Despite our differences, you are still my children. I do not approve of your... lifestyle, but I will not turn you away."

"You asked to meet her."

"I did," Unsha acknowledged, nodding. "That doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed. Ivan, at least, brought a nanny instead of a boyfriend."

Ivan tensed, jaw tightening at the comparison, but he said nothing.

Unsha cleared his throat again.

"Regardless, we are not here to fight. We’re here to talk. As a family." He paused, taking a deep breath. "My health is declining. I can’t do what I used to... There won't be any family activities, but I’ve arranged a fashion event by week’s end. A tribute of sorts, to your mother. You two will be the stars as models."

At that moment, servants entered and began placing food on the table.

"It’ll be like old times," Unsha added, stuffing a napkin into his collar. "Back when your mother dressed you up and made you walk the runway."

He smiled faintly, almost nostalgically.

"But enough about me. Let’s eat."

Later, after dinner ended, Till walked alongside Ivan as they stepped into the cool night air.

Till glanced over and muttered, "No offense, but your father sucks."

Ivan gave a wry shrug. "He’s... a character, for sure."

Till slowed when he heard footsteps behind them. He glanced over his shoulder and made eye contact with Mizi. 

Till stopped and let Ivan walk off, then tilted his head slightly, signaling her to follow.

Mizi hesitated, then murmured an excuse and peeled away from Sua to catch up.

They didn’t speak until they were alone, out of earshot.

"What are you doing here?!" Till hissed.

Mizi rubbed the back of her neck, flustered.

"I came with Sua to meet her dad..."

"She's Universe, Mizi! The hero! Did you forget that?! What, are you undercover too? Trying to find her weaknesses?"

"No, Till, it's..." Mizi’s voice cracked with emotion. "I’m... dating Sua."

Till blinked, stunned. "You’re what? Mizi, she's—"

"I know!" Mizi wrapped her arms around herself. "But I can’t help it."

He stared at her like she’d lost her mind. Mizi stared back.

"...How long?" he asked quietly.

"A few days... maybe weeks…" she admitted meekly, eyes locked on his. "…Or months…"

"Months?" he echoed, appalled. "Have you been seeing her since before I even became Ivan’s dog-sitter?"

"I just— we met at a flower shop,"

'I didn't ask for a backstory, Mizi!'

"I recognized her, of course, but she was... different. She was charming, Till."

"This is dangerous. So dangerous. We're villains, Mizi! Don't forget! They're a family of heroes!"

"You’re here too!" she shot back.

"Yeah, but not because I’m in love with one of them!"

"Till..."

He rubbed his face, exasperated. "I’m just... I’m worried, okay?" 

He placed a hand on her shoulder, softer now. "Does she know you’re a villain?"

Mizi pursed her lips, hesitated, then shook her head silently.

"Do you expect to hide this from her forever? What were you thinking?"

Till sighed. "Gosh, Mizi..."

Suddenly, his wrist was yanked back.

He looked down. Sua had gripped it tightly.

"What are you doing to my girlfriend?!"

"Sua, no!"

"Mizi, let me handle this," Sua growled. Her nails bit into Till’s skin, drawing blood.

Mizi tugged at her arm.

"Please, Sua. He’s..." Her voice wavered. "He’s family."

Sua froze, startled. Then she released his wrist.

Till pulled his hand back, wincing.

"What?" Sua asked, looking at Mizi.

"He was just worried. I never... I never told him about us."

Sua turned to Till, her gaze sharp. "So you’re one of those people? I thought you were with Ivan!"

"What—no! I’m not homophobic!" Till ran a hand through his hair, flustered.

"It’s just..." His words trailed off as he caught sight of Mizi’s expression.

His tone softened.

"You never kept stuff from us, Mizi. If you’ve been with her for months, that means you’ve been sneaking out without us noticing. What if you’d been kidnapped? Or worse? And- and dating a hero?..." He shook his head. "It’s risky. I just- I want you safe, okay?"

Mizi wiped her eyes before any tears could fall.

"I’m not a kid anymore, Till. And..." She looked to Sua, her expression tender. "I’m safer than I’ve ever been. She loves me."

'Yeah, that's bullshit.'

Till hesitated, still uneasy, but silent.

"Sua."

Ivan's voice broke the tension as he appeared nearby, his expression unreadable.

He looked from Till cradling his wrist to Mizi and Sua standing close together.

"...What’s going on?"

Sua let out a breath. "Just a misunderstanding."

She leaned in closer to Till, her voice low and firm.

"I don’t know what to think of you yet, but since you’re Mizi’s family, I'll give you a chance. But if you hurt her, or heck, Ivan, I will hunt you down."

Then, without another word, she took Mizi’s hand and led her back inside.

Chapter Text

Sua didn’t know what to make of the boy Ivan had brought home. Till hadn't said a single word to her or Mizi since last night’s awkward confrontation. He didn’t seem to be against her and Mizi’s relationship, but he sure didn’t seem supportive either.

“Are you going to get in the water, or are you just going to glare at Till all day? ” Mizi called from the pool, her tone teasing.

Sua took a slow, spiteful sip of her coconut water.

Mizi swam closer with a sigh.

“Look, last night was a misunderstanding.”

“I know, but...” Sua's eyes flicked toward Till, who was holding a flailing Teddy in his arms. The boy met her stare, unblinking. "I don't know..." 

Mizi followed her gaze.

“Till’s a good guy, whether you believe it or not.”

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Mizi leaned her arms on the edge of the pool, resting her chin.

“I think I know why you don’t like him.”

Sua raised an eyebrow. “Oh? ”

“Your first impression of him is a possibly homophobic scumbag who almost made your girlfriend cry,” Mizi said knowingly, tracing the pool tile with her finger. “And now, he’s going to be around all week, and he hasn’t said if he likes you or not. So now you're anxious because you don't know if he's on our side or not.”

Sua mulled that over.

“...Does it really seem that way? ”

Mizi nodded.

“I mean, you're not naturally mean, Sua. Just... protective. And scared. I know our relationship doesn’t fit what some people want, but Till’s not one of those people who tell us we're going to hell.”

Sua stared into her drink for a beat, then dipped her legs into the pool.

“I trust your judgment, Mizi,” she muttered. “But I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Mizi playfully rolled her eyes. 

"Stop stressing, you look too good to be upset." 

Right on cue, Ivan shoved Till into the pool. The poor guy sank like a stone, desperately raising Teddy above the water even as he went under.

'Could that idiot really be as good as Mizi claims him to be?'

Till gasped as Ivan hauled him above the surface. He sputtered, coughing out a lungful of water.

Ivan laughed at his misery.

“Stop laughing! I almost died!”

Ivan almost innocently tilted his head. “You can’t swim?”

“I can't! And I was holding Teddy! What if he drowned?!”

“Teddy can swim.”

“So I can just fuck off and die, then?!”

Teddy’s tail wagged happily, spraying water into both their faces.

Ivan wiped his face with Till’s shirt, chuckling.

“You—!”

Before Till could finish, Ivan hoisted him onto the poolside. Till released Teddy, who shook himself off and trotted away.

Fuming, Till wrung out his shirt. “Why do you go out of your way to inconvenience me?! Your arm's broken and you still insist on putting in the effort just to annoy me! Are you even allowed to swim?!"

Ivan climbed out after him and, like Teddy, shook the water off.

“Shouldn’t you be glad, Mr.Sasaeng?” He smirked. “Other fans would've appreciated it. Besides, I just think you’re cuter that way.”

“What?”

“You’re cuter,” Ivan said plainly, peeling off his wet shirt. “When you’re mad.”

Till groaned with a glare. “You siblings... You’re both freaks.”

Ivan tilted his head. “You mean Sua? What’d she do to you? I mean, besides the...” He gestured toward the crescent-shaped marks on Till’s wrist.

Till huffed. “Don't look, but she’s been glaring at me since I got here.”

Ivan turned toward Sua.

“I said don’t look!”

Ivan shrugged. “Don't worry about it, that’s just how Sua is.” 

Ivan paused.

"And don't call my sister a freak." 

Till ignored him.

“What, does she just glare at people? She definitely hates me.”

“Did you do something to her?”

“Nothing that wasn’t explained as a misunderstanding,” Till muttered.

“Then don’t mind it,” Ivan said, brushing wet hair from his face. “She’ll warm up to you.”

“I doubt it. Has she ever warmed up to anyone else?”

“Well, M—”

“Besides Mizi.”

Ivan tapped his chin.

“Hm... Nope...”

Till sighed. “That’s what I thought.”

Later that evening, Till stood on the balcony, a can of beer in hand, watching the sea ripple under the moonlight. He heard footsteps approach.

“Teddy’s asleep, Ivan,” he said without turning.

“Not Ivan.”

He spun around. It was Sua, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Till instinctively hid his wrist behind his back.

“Something wrong? ” he asked.

“That’s why I’m here,” Sua said, stepping beside him. “Apparently, there isn’t.”

They stood in silence for a beat.

“Ivan and Mizi kept pestering me to get along with you.”

“Ah,” Till said, looking away. Truthfully, he was still a little afraid of her.

“You really don’t have a problem with me and Mizi? ”

Till took a long sip of his beer.

“I trust Mizi’s judgment. Besides, unlike your father, my issue isn’t with your relationship. It’s just that...”

“That I’m a hero? ” Sua scoffed. “What, are you a villain loyalist? Overthrow the Assembly and all that crap? ”

“No,” Till replied (and lied) quietly. “You’re just... dangerous. And Mizi’s important to me... That doesn't matter though, Mizi's a grown woman, I can’t stop her.”

“Mm.”

A breeze rolled in from the sea.

Sua glanced sideways at him.

“It would’ve been hypocritical anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re dating my brother.”

Till choked.

“Wha—? I’m not dating that lunatic!”

“Really? ” Sua drawled. “So what was that whole pool scene? ”

“That freak tried to murder me! It was a rescue mission to avoid a lawsuit."

Sua squinted.

“I figured the nanny thing was a cover-up to hide from my father, but you’re actually Teddy’s nanny?”

“Hey! Don’t judge! Jobs like mine keep the economy running—”

“Calm down,” she interrupted, raising her hands. “It’s not that. It’s just... Most nannies don’t eat dinner with the family.”

“Is it shameful to eat with someone lower class or—?”

“Stop—gee, stop. Great beyond, you're more defensive than I am.” Sua rubbed her temple. “I meant it was a family dinner.”

Till paused, then deflated a little.

“Ask your brother.”

Sua shrugged.

“Maybe I will.”

Chapter Text

The lights went out, an unspoken signal that it was late. Sua stretched her back.

“We should head back, Mr. Sitter.”

She turned to leave, then looked over her shoulder.

“I’ll be civil, but just so we’re clear, do anything weird and I will punch you in the face.”

She patted Till’s shoulder and left him standing there on the balcony with a half-finished can of beer.

Till stared at the drink, gave it a little swirl, then sighed and followed after her. He shut the balcony door behind him.

The hallway was pitch dark. He didn’t want to turn the lights on. What if that was, like, rude here? Rich people had unspoken rules for everything.

As he walked, dim shapes emerged from the darkness. Portraits, grand and looming. Mostly of Nigeh, wearing elaborate, ethereal dresses. She wore white in every single one. Always in the center. Always glowing.

Till turned a corner and saw a flicker of white vanishing up the staircase.

He froze.

His heart started to thump wildly in his chest. Slowly, he looked up the stairs and saw that nothing was there.

His blood turned cold.

“Great beyond…” he whispered.

Then, slow footsteps approached from behind him, getting closer.

Without even thinking about it, he bolted up the stairs, muttering half-remembered prayers under his breath. 

There were even more of Nigeh's photos on the walls of the spiral staircase. The eyes from the pictures seemed to follow him.

When he got to the third floor, there was only one room with the door cracked open.

The footsteps came even closer, and even in the darkness he saw a shadow slowly ascending.

Without thinking, Till slipped inside and shut the door. He flinches back, seeing a photo of a woman on the door, notably not Nigeh, with dark hair and sharper features, dressed completely in black.

With a quick look around, Till sees more portraits of the woman, the whites of her eyes striking in the darkness, all glaring at him. 

Till screwed his eyes shut and started retreating backwards with whispered prayers. 

Then, his back brushed against something... someone.

Fabric brushed his back, and Till choked on a scream.

He looked down.

It was a white. Flowing. Robe.

He squeezed his eyes shut, heart racing.

'Please don’t be a ghost. Please don’t be a ghost.'

“...Till?”

Till almost collapsed in relief, for the first time actually happy to hear Ivan's voice.

“Great beyond, you scared me—I thought—Great beyond, Ivan.”

Till's glare wandered behind Ivan, to a desk covered in scattered papers and folders. Ivan didn’t exactly look thrilled to see him there.

“What is all that…?”

The footsteps came closer and the door creaked.

Ivan swiftly yanked Till closer and sat him on the edge of the desk. He shoved the files up the back of his shirt and the sudden touch made Till gasp. He dropped the beer with a loud clang, the liquid spilling everywhere.

“Young… Master?” 

Came Acorn’s voice.

Ivan turned.

“Acorn. It’s just you.”

Acorn blinked at the scene—Till on the desk, beer on the floor—and didn’t look impressed.

“The master…”

“Will not hear a word about this. Got it?”

Acorn hesitated. 

“Yes, Young Master.”

“And clean this up.”

Ivan grabbed Till and steered him out of the room, keeping a firm hand around his waist to stop the files from slipping out.

Till, still in shock, whispered, “What—what just happened—what did you do?”

Ivan gave him a look.

“You really went all in, Mr.Sasaeng, following me around this late.”

“I wasn’t following you, I- I was...” hiding from your creepy ghost mom “...wandering…”

“Into my dad’s study?”

“That was your dad’s study?”

Ivan nodded as they got to his room.

He slid his cold fingers up the back of Till’s shirt again and pulled the files out. Till shivered.

“What even is that?”

“Nothing you should be poking your nose into, Mr.Sasaeng.”

“But—”

Ivan put a finger to his lips, then pointed to Teddy, fast asleep.

He started reading through the files, completely ignoring a once again offended Till.

A sudden breeze swept over Till's skin, raising goosebumps along his arms. He shuffled.

“…Hey, Ivan,” Till whispered. “There aren’t, like, ghosts here, right?”

Ivan snorted.

“This island was untouched before we bought it. The only person who ever died here is my mother.”

Till paled. 

“Your mom died here…? So, could Nigeh be… you know… haunting this place?”

Ivan looked up, amused. 

“For my stalker, you know nothing about me, do you? Nigeh’s my mother too, but my mom’s a different woman.”

Till blinked. “Really?”

“You saw her at the office, didn’t you?”

“…The woman in black?” Till winced, remembering the portraits.

Ivan frowned. 

“You okay? You look pale.”

Till decided to change the subject, clearing his throat. 

“So, you and Sua have different moms?”

“And dads.”

Till’s jaw dropped. 

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“But you two look so alike!”

“Because we have straight black hair and pale skin? We're in Korea, Till.”

Till shook his head and flopped onto the floor.

“My first non-biological mother was infertile, but she dreamt of having kids. I was adopted on Valentine's Day as a gift to her.”

Till scooted closer.

“She died when I was young.” Ivan continued. “Father remarried just a few months later, and Nigeh already had Sua."

“…Months?”

“Fast, yeah. But I’ve got a feeling they knew each other longer.”

Ivan set the files down and turned to Till.

“You know what? You deserve a reward. Ask me for anything. Just keep quiet about this.”

Till perked up. 

“Anything?”

Ivan nodded.

Till’s mind flashed to the battle logbook. 

“Can I… borrow your bag of merch?”

Ivan whistled, and Till frantically shushed him, pointing at Teddy.

Ivan tilted his head. 

“So you even know about that. Trying to gather my DNA, huh? Impressive, Mr.Sasaeng. My merch is in the walk-in closet.”

Till blinked. “DNA—what?”

“I said the bag’s in the closet.”

Till waved off Ivan's words and headed toward the dark closet. 

It took thirteen seconds before Till came back with hurried steps.

"Do you have a flashlight?" 

Chapter Text

Till woke up to the sound of knocking, paired with Acorn’s voice calling his name. 

“Mr. Till?” 

Knock knock.  

“Mr. Till?” 

With a groan and heavy eyelids, he stumbled towards the sound and shoved the drawer he put in front of the door aside. His body ached, his mind foggy from a night ruined by Ivan’s so-called “battle log.”

Instead of giving him valuable information, the battle log was a nightmare and a half, less dedicated to keeping track of their battles and more aimed to describe in detail of how every kick and punch exchanged excited the hero. In one case, it became a 3-page rant about how they wrestled under the rain, belonging more in a 13-year-old’s fanfiction, not a grown man’s tactical journal. 

Till shuddered. 

‘Who’s the real sasaeng here?’ 

He opened the door to find Acorn holding a very unimpressed Teddy, who barked the moment he saw him.

“Mr. Till, please get ready. The young master sent me to fetch you. Breakfast is ready.” 

“Alright, I’ll... I’ll get to it.” 

Till rubbed at his eyes, still thick with sleep. 

Acorn lowered his voice, shifting the squirming dog in his arms.

“And please refrain from your fooling around with the young master near the master's office or chambers. We servants bear the brunt of the fallout. I’m sure, as a low-class civilian, you understand.” 

Till groaned at the casual insult, waving him off and shutting the door. 

He ignored the ache in his neck and his general hatred for sunlight and trudged into the bathroom. The icy splash of the shower made him flinch— how do the Chois not have hot water for guests? —but it was a welcome distraction from the image of Ivan kicking his ass while simultaneously admiring it. 

The breakfast hall (separate from the dining hall) was already occupied. Mizi, Ivan, and Sua were seated, plates freshly served. 

“Impeccable timing,” Ivan said, lifting his utensils. “The food’s just arrived.” 

“You’re late,” Sua added flatly. 

Till gave her an apologetic look before he mumbled, “I had trouble falling asleep."

“Oh, right! Did I mention? ” Ivan smirked. “Till thought mother was haunting him.” 

“Maybe she is," Sua huffed. "and she’s going to kill you tonight. Don’t sleep.” 

“Sua...” Mizi gave her a half-hearted reprimand. 

Ivan chuckled as he started cutting into his eggs. 

“Don't scare him harder, Sua. Oh, and Till, just a heads-up, I won’t be around today. Standard procedure: blue toys during the day, yellow when it gets dark. This time, clean up after him. Another broken arm won’t be ideal. No dairy, no nuts, and absolutely no alcohol. There are grapes in the room, but don’t give Teddy any—” 

“I know, I know. I’ve got that shit memorized.” 

“Ooh, are you talking about Teddy? ” Mizi asked, clasping her hands together. “I haven’t met him yet. Could I, maybe later? After you and Sua go for the outfit fitting?” 

“Outfit fitting?” Till asked. 

“It’s for the fashion event,” Ivan explained. “We’ll be seeing what we’ll wear for the first time today.” 

Mizi placed her hand over Sua’s.

“You’ll send me photos, won’t you?” 

“Wouldn’t you rather wait for the event?” 

“It’s not like it’s your wedding gown.” 

“Might as well be,” Sua muttered. “That’s the theme.” 

Till blinked.

“Your father’s birthday event is themed... weddings?” 

“Technically, it’s bridal white, it's a tribute to his wife, it makes sense." Mizi corrected. “Regardless, I’m excited to see how Sua looks!” 

The cold girl blushed faintly and turned away. 

“Now, now. Let’s not keep the food waiting,” Ivan interrupted, taking a bite. “At this rate, Till could’ve shown up even later and still made it on time.” 

“Hey!” Till protested. 

The group laughed together, the morning settling into comfortable silence as they began their meal. 

Ivan handed Teddy off to Till. 

“I shouldn’t be long. And no snooping, Mr. Sasaeng.” 

“I won’t. No extra tasks?” 

Ivan paused in the doorway. “Just... Don’t leave the room. And don’t let anyone in.” 

“Got it...” Till said, gently bouncing Teddy like a toddler. 

“I’ll be off.” Ivan exited without another word. 

"Alright, bye."

Till poked his head through the doorway and watched Ivan walk away before he closed the door.

He sat by the window, absently petting the pup even as Teddy gnawed on his collar. 

“Just you and me again,” Till muttered. “No snooping around this time.” 

Teddy slobbered all over his lap in response. 

Till could check out the files Ivan took, but instead he looked out the window. It was beautiful. Of course, it was—God forbid the Chois spend less than a fortune on landscaping.

A garden bloomed in soft yellows and whites, with a central pond and a picturesque bridge leading to a gazebo. It was the kind of place that you’d see in a movie, the kind of place the main characters would rendezvous in. 

Then he spotted her, pink hair catching the light, alone in the garden, playing a flute. 

Teddy followed his gaze and pawed at the window. 

“Want to go out, boy? ” 

Teddy barked as if in confirmation.

Till set Teddy down.

“Well, who am I to say no? Besides, Mizi wanted to meet you.” 

Till stood up with a groan and opened up Teddy’s toy bag to look for his blue leash. For a moment, he hesitated. Ivan told him to stay inside, after all. But what’s a few minutes? Till wanted to talk to Mizi anyways. Ivan can suck a dick.

Down in the garden, Mizi stood on the white bridge. When she turned at the sound of footsteps, her face lit up. 

“Hey, Till.” 

Till waved.

“Hey.” 

“Oh, is this Teddy? Hi, I’m your auntie!”

She crouched to give the dog a pat. 

Till gave her a few seconds then he cleared his throat to get her attention. 

“Right. You probably came down here for a reason,” she nervously laughed. “Did... you want to talk?” 

Mizi stood up, smoothing her dress. 

Till nodded.

“I... wanted to say sorry."

" Oh."

" That, and I didn’t want you thinking I was upset with you.” 

Mizi cracked a smile.

“Why would you be? I knew the only hiccup would be with Sua’s hero status. And you get worried, I get it.”  

“And you?”  

Mizi pointed at herself.

“Me?”  

“Are you not worried?”  

She leaned over the rail. “Sort of. But there’s an obvious solution, right? ” 

Till joined her. “What solution?” 

Mizi paused to consider her words then sighed.

“That I... Give up Clematis.” 

Till straightened up.

“What?” 

“I mean, we’re done, right? We got the boutique. Hyuna and Hyun-Woo are after the Assembly, and you’ve got your rivalry with Ivan... But Clematis isn’t essential to any of that. I don’t even have powers. What do I bring to the table?” 

“A lot,” Till answered, frowning. 

“Maybe, but I still want out.” She shrugged. “Will... Will you let me?” 

Till didn’t even hesitate.  

“You’re always free to, Mizi. Anything else would be wrong. And you’re right, now that I think about it—this whole thing is kind of pointless.” 

“Now, I’m not saying that.” She shook her head. “Crime pays. But with the boutique, we don’t need this anymore. I won’t stop you, of course. But this whole villain thing isn’t the only thing keeping us alive. We can afford to drop the whole crime schtick now, so I’m taking the opportunity to. Maybe... Maybe you could rest too, Till.”  

Till said nothing. His fingers fidgeted on their own. 

Mizi was right, there wasn’t a clear end goal. It wasn’t like Till was after the Assembly, nor did he really have grudge to settle. Ivan was just mildly annoying, and Till wanted to defeat him, but not... permanently. There wasn’t an end goal here besides maybe winning one fight. It didn’t have any serious stakes or anything, it just... is.  

But after all these years, Till knew nothing but villainy, and it felt like betrayal to even entertain the idea of giving it up.  

Ding!  

Mizi’s phone pinged. 

She smiled at the screen. “Aw, she sent me a picture!” 

She turned it toward him: Sua and Ivan, both in white. Ivan had one sleeve missing to accommodate his broken arm. 

Till’s phone buzzed next. 

Ivan. The caption read: 
“I hope you’re not going through my underwear.” 

Till’s eye twitched. 

‘With your logs, I think you’d be into it.’ 

“Did Ivan send you one too?” Mizi asked. 

“Yep.” 

“Can I see? ” 

“No.” 

“Oh.” 

She awkwardly turned to the pond, watching the koi swim lazily beneath the surface. 

“Well... What now?” 

Till tapped his foot and after a moment, suggests, “Maybe play something on your flute?” 

Mizi beamed.

“Wonderful idea, Till." 

She raised the instrument and began to play, a melodic tune weaving through the air. 

Neither of them noticed Teddy growling, nor the mysterious figure watching from the window in Ivan's room.

Chapter Text

Acorn didn’t like the boy the young master brought home, but who was he to judge? He was just a servant.

Sure, he grew up with the young master, spent his entire childhood basically being his underling and was the only servant to last this long working for the Chois (without mysteriously going missing), but an employee has no place in family and love stuff. That's above his pay grade. 

So when Acorn escorted Ivan and his guest into the estate, all he could think about was damage control. The last time a Choi heir had dropped her rainbow-colored truth on the household, Unsha threw a huge tantrum. If that was his reaction to the daughter he liked least, Acorn could only imagine what would happen when he found out about Ivan.

'Great beyond, what a drag.'

Just as they reached the young master's room and Teddy flopped onto a rug, Acorn forced himself to address the elephant in the room. Not the expensive taxidermy one, but the less expensive, middle-class, emo one.

“Unfortunately, we weren’t informed about your… companion."

“That’s my fault, I didn’t call ahead." Ivan replied casually, walking in his room. "Prepare a room for Till. Somewhere close. He’s Teddy’s nanny, he needs to be available at a moment’s notice.”

Acorn blinked.

"Ah. Teddy’s nanny." He almost smiled. “Very well, young master.”

Oh, so he's not gay, the other guy's just Teddy's babysitter. Thank goodness, looks like the master won't be raging tonight.

Servants bustled in, placing designer luggage into gold-trimmed storage units. 

“The master expects you at dinner,” he said, hands folded neatly in front of him. “Please wear something nice.”

Acorn thought that was the end of it, but Ivan tacked on, “Add a portion for Till.”

Acorn raised a brow. “He won’t be eating with the staff?”

“No. He’s Teddy’s nanny,” Ivan said again, like it explained everything.

Acorn nodded slowly.

Okay, so Till isn't actually Teddy's nanny and they have a secret gay relationship. Noted.

He slipped out quietly, mentally updating his idea of the Choi family lore and beginning a new internal crisis.

It had already taken months to coordinate Sua’s schedule so her girlfriend and the master barely crossed paths. And now this? They were barely surviving with one queer heir, what were they supposed to do with two? Couldn’t they have waited until the old man dropped dead? The master coughed like he died yesterday.

But then again, who was Acorn to judge? He was just a servant.

Unfortunately, it’s very hard not to judge when the young master has all the subtlety of a fireworks show during Suneung.

Especially when Acorn walked into the master’s study and found Till perched on the edge of the desk, Ivan's hand up his shirt.

Till dropped the beer in panic, spilling it. The clang sounded like death bells to the poor servant. 

“Young... Master?”

Ivan glanced over. “Acorn. It’s just you.”

Acorn should've gotten an award with how he acted composed so well.

“The master...”

“Will not hear a word about this,” Ivan interrupted sharply. “Got it?”

Acorn hesitated and briefly considered throwing himself out the nearest stained glass window.

“Yes, Young Master.”

“And clean this up.”

Yep. This was his life.

Acorn pretended he didn’t see Ivan’s hand around Till’s waist and repeated his mantra in his head.

'Not my circus. Not my monkeys. Not my circus. Not my monkeys. Not my circus. Not my monkeys—'

Except it could become his circus if the master found out. So, he made sure to tell Till the next time he saw him, “Please refrain from your fooling around with the young master near the master's office or chambers. We servants bear the brunt of the fallout." 

He added, just to be petty, "I’m sure, as a low-class civilian, you understand.” 

But of course. Of course nothing goes right for poor old Acorn.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The sharp tap of a long, yellowed fingernail echoed across the master’s study.

Acorn stood straight as a rod before Unsha’s massive desk, clutching his hands to keep them from shaking.

The old man didn’t speak for a full minute.

Acorn didn’t breathe, scared that if he exhaled too loud, he'd never breathe again.

“I found something... interesting this morning,” Unsha rasped.

Acorn almost jumped out of his skin.

“I found a rag.” the master continued, tapping again. “It reeked of beer.”

If Acorn could, he'd sweat, but his sweat didn't want to come out. (Good idea, coming out is the last thing you'd want to do around Unsha.)

He knew he’d forgotten something. He couldn’t remember putting the rag away, which means he probably didn’t. Which means he just fucked himself over.

Unsha leaned back in his chair with a creak.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that… would you?”

Acorn felt the world tilt.

Internally, he begged Ivan for forgiveness.

'Don’t hold a grudge. Love is love but I gotta put me first.'

“It’s the young master’s,” he blurted out.

“Ivan’s?” Unsha snapped.

“I mean—the young master’s guest’s.”

Unsha seemed to accept that answer. "Of course. It was that ill-bred rat. What was he doing?" 

Acorn had a split second to decide.

Lie? Say he was drinking alone?

Or just rip off the Band-Aid?

“He was… making out with the young master.”

Snap.

The armrest of Unsha’s chair cracked under his grip. He surged to his feet and Acorn tried to make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

“I knew it!” the master barked. “I knew he couldn’t just be a nanny! I knew my boy would be infected before Sua! He always acted so… so…”

Unsha stopped and tried to take a deep breath. He coughed violently instead, bent over his desk, wheezing.

Acorn stared at the rug and envied it's lack of consciousness.

Eventually, Unsha growled through his coughs, “Search their rooms! Every inch! A part of my files are missing... I think it’s that rat’s doing. If the files really are in his possession…”

There was a dangerous glint in the master's eyes. "I'm gonna grind more fruits than just bananas and strawberries."

Acorn wanted to cry.

The monkeys were in his circus now. 

Chapter Text

"Where did you two meet?"

"At a flower shop."

"Why were you there?"

"It was Mom's death anniversary."

"And she was there because...?"

Sua let out an exaggerated sigh and threw her head back. 

“Why are you interrogating me as if I got into a relationship with a foreign spy? She's my girlfriend, not a criminal. Mind your own business. Better yet, think about your partner."

Ivan’s eyes flicked up. "Partner? You mean Till?"

“Who else? John Cena?”

Ivan gave a short, humorless laugh.

“I told you, we’re not together.”

Ignoring him and rolling her eyes, Sua raised her phone and angled it gracefully for a selfie. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

A soft click. 

Flash.

Ivan pulled out his own phone and lifted it. Sua narrowed her eyes.

“Seriously?”

He glanced at her. “What?”

“Copycat.”

Ivan arched an eyebrow. “You think I’m copying you?”

“You didn’t even think about taking a selfie until I did.”

"It’s just a coincidence."

"Oh, please. I was going to send mine to Mizi."

"Maybe I’m going to send mine to Till."

Her mouth curled. “Exactly. Case closed, copycat.”

She turned away with a flick of her wrist.

"It's not just the selfies," she added. “I wear a white hero suit, you wear a white hero suit. I date someone with bright hair, suddenly you’re chasing after one too.”

“I don’t chase after anyone,” Ivan said flatly. “And I didn’t know you were dating. Plus, I'm straight.”

"Right," Sua said dryly. "Sure you are. You know, it's just us and Marty—" She gestured to the tailor crouched at her hem, who gave a tired grunt. "—in here. You can drop the act."

"What act?"

"Come on, I'm not dense. Father’s not going to burst in through the curtains if you admit that you're gay out loud."

Ivan snorted. “I'm not gay, and Till’s not my boyfriend.”

Sua tilted her head. “So what is he, then?”

“My stalker.”

She blinked. 

“...Your what?”

“Anyways, I just wanted to get to know my future sister-in-law better,” he said breezily.

"Okay, no. No. You don’t get to toss out ‘stalker’ like this is normal—"

"When you two get married—"

"We are not glossing over the stalker thing that fast—"

“Young miss,” Marty, the weary tailor, interjected. "Please stop moving. I'd really prefer not to stab you today."

“Right. Sorry.” Sua went rigid, sighing through her nose. She turned her head and calmly hit send on the photo to Mizi.

Ding.

Sua's eyes flicked to Ivan, who was already looking at her. 

On his screen: a sent photo.

She scoffed.

'See? Copycat.'

The room fell still as the door gave a long, reluctant creak. A soft thump... thump... Came from a cane striking the carpeted floor.

The siblings turned at once, tensing instinctively as their father entered with a limp.

"Hm. Everything seems in order," Unsha grunted, easing himself into an armchair with a sigh. "Marty, are you finished?"

"Yes, Monsieur Choi," Marty replied with a respectful bow. "The lady's dress was our main concern during the fitting."

Unsha stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Then I suppose you can be on your way, yes?"

Marty straightened. “Pardon? ”

“I said leave. All of you. At once.”

There was hesitation, but slowly, the three began to move towards the door.

“Except you, my boy,” Unsha said suddenly, gesturing with a crooked finger toward Ivan. “Stay. I would like to have a word.”

Ivan looked to his sister. Sua’s gaze lingered on him for a beat before she offered the faintest nod of encouragement and closed the door behind her.

Ivan swallowed.“Yes, Father? ”

Unsha’s eyes dropped to the white cast wrapped around his son’s arm. 

“How's your arm? ”

Ivan followed his gaze. “It's... healing. I'll be back to work in no time.”

"I see..." Unsha leaned back with a sigh. His voice turned almost wistful. "My boy, you work too hard. All work and no play makes Ivan a dull boy..." He chuckled to himself. 

"Or are you?"

Ivan blinked, uncertain. 

“Dull, sir? 

“A boy.”

The air shifted. Ivan stiffened at the change in tone. It's subtle, but there's a faint hint of disapproval in Unsha's tone.

"...What do you mean?" 

Unsha looked at him intently for a moment.

"I mean," Unsha continued, voice low, "you’re not a boy anymore, are you? You’re a man now."

He gave a dry, private laugh. Ivan eventually laughed too, awkwardly. Ivan rubbed the back of his neck.

“I strive only to make you proud, Father.”

“I should hope so.” Unsha absentmindedly traced circles on the armrest with his nail. 

"You work so hard... shouldn’t there be a reward?"

Ivan tensed. "Reward?"

"Yes... reward." 

Unsha’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable. 

"Urak doesn’t let you date, does he? Such a shame. You’re in your prime, after all. When I was your age I had women all over me."

Ivan gave a cautious nod.

"Luckily," Unsha went on, "as Urak’s closest friend, I don’t find it hard to make a few requests."

"I... I don’t understand."

"I’m getting old, Ivan." Unsha murmured. “Old enough to long for the laughter of grandchildren echoing through these halls.”

Ivan stared at him.

"You know where this is going," Unsha said, amused. "Of course, I understand your heart’s in your work, just like your old man’s. So, I’ve decided to help you out."

He paused with dramatic weight.

“I'm arranging you a wife.”

Ivan’s breath caught. "Father, that’s too much—"

"Nothing is too much for my son," Unsha cut in, his voice suddenly sharp. “Unless... You object? ”

“I do not... I mean—”

Unsha’s eyes narrowed. "Is it because... you already have someone?"

Ivan quickly shook his head.

The old man studied him, then relaxed, the slightest smile curving his lips. “Good. Then all is well.”

He turned his gaze toward the window.

“You are dismissed.”

Ivan bowed slightly and stiffly made his way to the door.

'A wife? Why now? Why so suddenly?'

He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he stepped into the corridor. There, he passed Acorn, head lowered, clutching a leather-bound folder to his chest with pale fingers. 

Without Ivan’s notice, Acorn cast a fleeting, guilty glance his way... before slipping into the fitting room behind him, toward Unsha.

Chapter Text

Ivan Choi could honestly say that his dad had never been normal.   

Unsha was distant most of the time. Cold, even. But he somehow still knew way too much about Ivan’s personal life. The Choi family was never known for being a typical nuclear family, but Unsha was on a whole different level. The man loved control more than most people love their own kids. He wore the weight of the family name like it was a crown, and in his mind, Ivan was his perfect little prince.  

Maybe that’s why he suddenly cared so much about Ivan’s marriage prospects. But that still didn’t explain why he had arranged a marriage behind Ivan’s back without warning or conversation.  

Ivan was shaken from his thoughts by a loud, irritated voice.   

“Ivan!”    

He jolted upright on the golf bench.  

Sua stood there with her arms crossed. “You invited us out, and now you’re sitting here brooding?!”  

“Take it easy,” Mizi said softly, resting a hand on Sua’s arm. “maybe he’s just relaxing.”   

“Well, if he’s not playing, why are we even here?”  Sua waved at the golf course around them. “Till’s obviously not any competition.”  

Across the field, Till swung hard at the ball and completely missed.   

“ARGH! Stupid rich people sport!”  

Ivan sighed and rubbed his face. “You’re right. Sorry. I just... had some stuff on my mind.”   

Sua raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t train out of that?”  

Ivan stood, stretching lazily. “Field training doesn’t apply to luxury sports, Noona. But I’ll play. It’s about time someone actually hits the ball.”  

Till narrowed his eyes. “Was that a jab?”  

Ivan only smirked in response.   

Till huffed, swung again, and missed.  

“Who cares about this posh nonsense anyway? Let’s play some real sports, like baseball, or football—literally anything else!”  

“You can hit a fastball, but you can’t handle a stationary golf ball?” Sua deadpanned.  

“IT’S TINY!”  

Ivan laughed and walked over, twirling his club. “Don’t worry, Till. Nobody’s good at golf on their first day. Well, except Sua.”   

Sua, two-time regional golf champion, puffed up in pride.   

“I can teach you,” Ivan offered.   

“Good luck with that ,” Sua muttered.   

“Don’t be a downer, Love.” Mizi said, slapping Sua’s shoulder lightly. “You’ve got this, Till!”  

Till muttered something unintelligible, then finally sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll try.”  

Ivan stepped behind him. “Okay. Let’s fix your stance.” He gently nudged Till’s feet with his shoe. “Feet shoulder-width apart. Relax. You’re standing like you’re about to fight the golf ball.”   

“I might.” Till grumbled.  

“Back straight,” Ivan instructed. He reached out and lightly tapped Till’s spine. “you’re not hauling lumber.”   

“Stop touching me.” Till muttered.   

“You asked me to teach you.”   

“No, I said I’d try to learn. There’s a difference.”  

Ivan rolled his eyes and showed him how it’s done, posture perfect despite the broken arm. He got into position, arm loose, movements smooth, and one-handedly swung.    

CLACK!    

The ball sailed into the air in a perfect arc.   

Sua clapped slowly. “Wow. Almost as good as a ten-year-old.”   

“I was demonstrating form. ” Ivan said, tossing the club to Till. “Now it’s your turn.”   

Till stared at the ball like it had insulted his mother. “Okay, here goes…”   

Till took his position, less hunched now, slightly more relaxed, and gave a strong swing. The club hit the air an inch above the ball.   

Mizi whistled and gave an encouraging, “Almost!”  

“I hate this game.”   

“You’re thinking too hard,” Ivan said. “Instead of trying to hit the ball harder, aim at it better.”  

“I am aiming!”  

“Then stop aiming like you’re blindfolded.”   

Another try. This time, the club grazed the ball, nudging it forward a few pathetic inches.   

Sua let out a choking noise. “Was that a putt or a sneeze?”  

“What the hell’s a putt?”  

Mizi winced. “It’s okay, you’re improving! That one moved.”   

Ivan shook his head. “Alright. Again.”   

They worked on his grip next. Till had been holding the club like it was a baseball bat. Ivan adjusted his hands gently, guiding his arms through the motion in slow repetition.  

The sun was dipping lower now, painting the sky in soft orange. The breeze picked up, brushing through their hair. Mizi leaned back to watch. Sua, surprisingly, didn’t complain.   

On the fifth try, Till swung, and the ball soared. Not far, but airborne .   

The group erupted.   

“Yes!” Mizi jumped to her feet, hands in the air. “That’s a win! ...Sorta.”   

Till stared at the ball, wide-eyed. “Did... Did I do that?”  

Ivan patted him on the shoulder. “Yep. Welcome to golf.”   

Till looked at him. “Does this mean I have to dress like Ryan Evans now?”  

Ivan shrugged. “If you want to go full country club, sure.”   

“I don’t.”   

“Coward.”   

They played for another hour. Mizi gave it a try and wasn’t half bad, though she had no idea how scoring worked. She cheered every time her ball moved an inch. Sua eventually joined, crushed every hit, and didn’t even look proud.   

As the sun lowered, their stress faded with it. For a moment, everything felt easy. No pressure. No drama. Just sunshine, good company, and a stupid sport.   

Until—  

VRRRRRRRR—  

A golf cart slowly approached them.   

Driving it was Acorn, who looked one disaster away from crying. Beside him sat Unsha Choi. Dressed sharp, club in hand in place of his cane. Beard blowing in the wind like some kind of ancient wizard.   

“You all look like you’re having fun,” Unsha said with a fake smile.   

The laughter stopped.   

Ivan froze, his smile faded.   

“...Father,” he said. “You’re... out of the house.”   

“Of course. Our little talk yesterday gave me a pep in my step.”   

Sua narrowed her eyes.   

Ivan avoided her gaze.   

“I used to be a golf champion,” Unsha added. “Played with the real elites. Not the...” He waved his hand vaguely.   

“The women’s league?” Sua gritted out.   

“Yeah, that one.”  

Unsha groaned dramatically as he picked up a club. “Mind if I join?”  

Ivan forced a smile. “We’ve already started.”  

“Oh, we can start over. You and your sister are needed elsewhere anyway.”   

Sua blinked. “We are?”  

“Yes. Something about the... outfits?” He turned to Acorn.   

Acorn flinched. “There is? I mean, there is! Marty said there’s a- a wardrobe emergency.”  

No one bought it, but no one argued either.   

“Well then,” Unsha clapped once. “Don’t keep him waiting! Acorn, refreshments!”  

The butler rushed to set out a full snack table, complete with drinks and a tiny charcuterie board.   

Ivan and Sua shared a look, then got into the cart.   

As it drove off, Unsha turned back to Till and Mizi, still smiling.   

“Mind if I take Ivan’s place?”  

Before they could say no, he hit the ball, and it flew .  

“Still got it,” he muttered.   

He walked over to the table and poured two glasses of amber liquid.   

“Do you drink?” he asked, eyes unreadable.   

Mizi hesitated. “I... don’t.”   

Unsha offered a tight smile, then looked to Till. “And you?”  

Till nodded cautiously.   

Unsha handed them each a glass.   

Mizi opened her mouth. “But I—”   

“Indulge me.” Unsha said, flatly.  

Under his heavy stare, they both sipped. Mizi blinked in pleasant surprise at the taste. Till grimaced.  

 “I know I wasn’t the most... welcoming,” Unsha said, sounding polite. “My disappointment was...obvious, and we got off on the wrong foot.”  

They waited for more.   

None came.   

“And...?” Till asked.   

Unsha shrugged. “And nothing. You’re not good enough for my children. Not even good enough to be PR Cinderellas. You’re just...strays.”  

Mizi frowned. “That’s not very nice.”   

“Nice?” Unsha scoffed. “What’s not ‘very nice’ is watching my legacy be turned into rotten fruit with insignificant insects feasting on them.”  

Till stepped in front of Mizi. “They’re grown. They can do what they want.”   

“What they want is to make their father proud.” His voice dropped lower. “And what will make me happy ... is if you’d stop trying to seduce. My. son.”    

Till put an offended hand on his chest. “Why does everyone think I’m into Ivan? If anyone’s seducing anyone, it’s Mizi!”  

“Hey!”   

Unsha slammed his golf club against the table.   

Everyone flinched. The glasses rattled. His breathing grew ragged.  

“You won’t be a problem much longer,” he whispered.   

Then—  

THUMP.    

Till spun around, only to see Mizi had collapsed, unconscious.  

“MIZI?!”   

Till stepped towards her but stumbled, hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. The glass slipped from his hand as his knees hit the ground. He reached for his powers—but the shadows didn’t answer.  

He looked up to see Unsha’s old, wrinkly face.  “What did you...?”  

“You don’t need to know,” the man said softly.   

Then—everything went black.  

Chapter Text

The room was too quiet.

Even for Sua. 

The wall clock ticked once, then twice, and the sound grew louder, echoing in the stillness. Each tick felt like a hammer strike against the fragile silence. The fluorescent light overhead buzzed softly, its hum grating against her nerves like chairs scraping against floors. Even the distant sound of the ocean, usually soothing to the siblings, didn't offer any comfort

Ivan stood by the wall, his figure rigid. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and his posture was deceptively calm, but Sua knew better.

His gaze was fixed on some point far away, his eyes unfocused, a distant look that suggested he wasn’t entirely present. 

He hadn’t said a word since they arrived.

Sua faced him, arms spread wide, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as Marty continued to take her measurements. The silence and her anxiety was eating at her. She waited—five more seconds, maybe ten—hoping that he would speak first. But he didn’t.

"Okay," she said, deciding to break the silence, the words slicing through the tension like a knife through tofu. "You’re being weirder than usual."

Ivan sighed, resigned. He already knew where this conversation was going.

"What was going on with you at the golf course?" 

Ivan's brow twitched, just slightly. “What do you mean?”

"You were... tense. Distracted." She softened her tone, though there was a hint of concern. "You barely spoke, and you kept zoning out. Does it have something to do with Unsha?"

"Everything has something to do with Unsha," he muttered. 

"But this time, it’s different," Sua pressed, her voice almost gentle now. 

The silence that followed stretched thin, ready to snap at the slightest touch. 

Ivan’s gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. When he spoke again, his voice was low, barely more than a whisper. 

"He arranged a marriage for me."

Sua blinked. For a moment, her mind struggled to process the words. "What?"

Ivan didn’t repeat himself.

She stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief. "He... What?"

Ivan shrugged.

"Who? Why? Since when?" Sua’s mind raced, questions tumbling out before she could even process them. "You don’t even like talking to people."

A dry scoff escaped Ivan’s lips. "I know."

"Do you even know the person?" Her voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper.

"No." His answer was as simple and final as the first.

Sua fell silent, the weight of it all sinking in. She didn’t know what to say.

"Why now?" she finally asked, her voice barely audible in the heavy quiet.

Ivan’s gaze dropped further, fixing on the floor as though it might offer him some kind of answer. "That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out."

Sua exhaled a long, slow breath, the silence pressing down around her like a physical thing. "That’s weird," she commented, more to herself than to him. "Even for him."

Ivan nodded faintly. 

"You think it’s political?"

"Could be," Ivan mused, his voice flat. "Or a distraction. Or a PR stunt."

He paused, frowning as he squinted, as if trying to see the truth in between the fabric of the carpet. 

"He said he wanted grandchildren."

Before Sua could formulate a response, the stillness was abruptly shattered by a sudden, sharp clatter.

Marty hissed as a small wooden box toppled from the table. Spools of thread rolled across the tiles, pins glinted under the harsh light.

Marty hastily bowed, scrambling to collect the mess. His hands trembled slightly as he gathered the fallen items. "A thousand pardons, young miss, young master. Just a minor slip-up. Please, don’t mind me—"

Sua exchanged a brief look with her brother. And just like that, the uneasy silence slid back into place. 

Marty had been “measuring” them for hours, looping tape measures around their wrists, muttering about smudged ink and wrong numbers.

But they both knew he wasn’t here for measurements.

He was stalling.

But for what?

Sua’s patience thinned. “How many times do you have to measure me?”

Marty chuckled nervously. “Perfection shouldn’t be rushed, young miss. Fashion is… a spiritual process.”

“You’ve measured my spiritual wrist a million times already.” She yanked her hand away.

Silence once more. Thick. Heavy.

Ivan, still leaning against the wall, finally spoke again. 

"Marty, leave us."

The tailor froze. He sputtered out, "W-well, you see—the measurements—"

"I know you already have them," Ivan cut him off.  "If you’re worried, guard the door. Just not in here."

Marty, after a moment, gave Ivan a bow, looking more than a little relieved to be dismissed. "As you wish, young master."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room enveloped in a new, thicker silence.

Sua rubbed her wrist absently, frowning as the tension gnawed at her. "Something’s wrong."

"I know."

Her eyes narrowed as she studied her brother, watching the way his shoulders tensed, the way his gaze flickered briefly to the door before he looked away. "How much do you know?"

Ivan pushed himself off the wall. "That depends."

"Ivan." She took a step closer. "What do you know?"

"About what?"

"You know what I mean."

His lips twitched slightly, but there was no humor in it. "I don’t."

"You do." Her glare hardened. "Why did Father want to be alone with Mizi?"

"And Till," Ivan added. 

"Him too, but why? Why go out of his way to get rid of us just to be left alone with them?"

"I don’t know."

"Liar."

"I’m serious. I don’t know."

"They could be in danger, Ivan. You know what kind of person Unsha is." She folded her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing.

"I have no idea what he wants with Mizi, my issue with father has nothing to do with her or Till."

"Then what's wrong?"

Ivan hesitated. " I’ve been… investigating."

Sua blinked. "About what?"

"About Father’s new business."

"Another laundering scheme?"

"No."

"Weapon trafficking?"

"No."

"Drugs?"

Ivan turned slowly toward the window. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Sort of."

"Sort of?"

He glanced back over his shoulder at her. "What do you know about power suppressants?"

Till blinked awake.

His skull throbbed, and the air pressed heavy against his lungs. He sat up slowly. Thick walls. No windows. A single light buzzing overhead.

He was in a cell.

He turned, and his breath caught. “Mizi!”

She jolted upright. “Till!” She scrambled to his side. “You’re awake. I was starting to freak out.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “How long was I out?”

“I don’t know. Hours, maybe. You wouldn't wake up.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” She tried to smile. “Just my pride.”

Till exhaled. “Right. That makes two of us.”

Mizi sighed. “So much for being top villains. We got kidnapped like amateurs.”

“I should’ve seen it coming,” Till muttered. “If anyone would do something like this, it’d be Unsha.”

“I gave him the benefit of the doubt." Mizi said bitterly. “He was about to be my father-in-law, after all. But I should’ve known better. Nobody gets that rich without doing a little crime.”

Till scanned the cell again. “He’s got a prison on his private island. This man’s way past ‘a little crime.’”

“What do we do?”

“What we don’t do is sit here waiting to be rescued.” He pushed himself up, stretching his arms. “We break out.”

“You’re not powerful enough to transport us off the island.”

 "But I can at least—”

He stopped suddenly, frowning as he flexed his fingers, the strange, empty feeling creeping up his spine.

Nothing.

His chest tightened, his throat constricting.

“What the...?”

“Till?” Mizi asked quietly.

He stared at his hands, his throat tightening as panic gripped him. “My powers…” he whispered. “They’re gone.”