Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Luka was once told that every pet human had ten fingers, whether they came from the auction house, the manufacturing lab, or simply from the orphanage. The segyein were very meticulous with this matter, because if you had a single finger more or less, you wouldn’t be categorized as a pet human. Luka has never seen the other pet humans count their fingers though, which he always found strange—after all, they were meant to have exactly ten. Luka constantly tries to make sure he can count up to ten purple fingers on his opened palm.

One… Two… Three…

He quietly unfurls his palm, the bruised-purple tips of his small fingers no longer a sight that startled him. Luka’s fingers instinctively curled, as if they did not want to be scrutinized under his gaze. Puzzled, Luka tries in vain to straighten each finger, yet they did not relent, still curling up stubbornly even as they fell open with reluctance.

“One…” He starts slowly with the pinky of his right hand, then moves to the finger beside it. It wriggles, the finger, and when Luka pokes it— it's soft. He startles a little. “Two…” Luka mumbles, and gazes down at his own little fingers in absolute concentration… carefully counting up to five.

Five purple fingers stare back at him.

Luka is about to open his mouth to confirm the sixth— when his five fingers begin to blur, like spilt watercolour on a canvas. Luka winces as a heaviness sinks into his head, like someone poured warm milk directly into his skull. Luka’s fingers are swimming before him, and he can barely see them clearly.

He must’ve miscounted them… Huh… Will he have to start over again…?

Luka feels a mild sense of perplexity tug at him. 

He looks down to his fingers, but they are still that distorted shape of purplish cloudiness. Luka’s fingers do not look like his fingers at all. 

Dizziness is not uncommon for Luka, and he is familiar with that, having been told several hundred times by his Father of all the despicable traits his weak heart possesses, struggling to even keep up the supply of Luka’s blood on some bad days. His fingers would be drenched in blue all the way to his knuckles then.

But this feeling… this feeling is worse than any vertigo he experienced.  Luka feels strangely slack, like his body is not attached to his consciousness at all, and Luka can barely will his fingers to move, not a twitch. Luka knows he still has his hands, Father hasn’t done anything to them. So why…? Perhaps he is still asleep and dreaming. Yes, that must explain the fuzzy feeling. 

But why had Luka fallen asleep again? Father says falling asleep in the day is no good, says it makes one mistake comfort for virtue, says it makes one lazy. 

…That is definitely not good at all.

This body of his is no good at all—fragile, useless, and never enough for what Father needs. This weak heart of his that always brings Luka so much pain. Father would be so unhappy if he saw Luka’s behaviour right now. This is really, really no good at all.

Luka’s eyes are wet, his lashes clinging with moisture. Luka blinks. He feels— he can't feel anything. This is really, really, no good at all. 

Luka sniffles. 

And he doesn't even realise it, but the moisture from his eyes seeps out anyway. He frowns, then grimaces, yet still, his face scrunches in despair. Luka parts his mouth to speak, but instead, a strange little sob comes out— thin and trembling, before it warbles into something slightly louder, a sound strange to his ears. His lungs seem to be squeezing each other, and he shudders, pressing his eyes tightly shut as he cries and cries and cries until his tears come no more. 

Father says crying is no good. Father hates when Luka cries, more so when he makes loud noises. Luka knows better than to let the noises out. Father especially hates when the crying gets loud. Not the tears themselves, maybe, but the sounds that come with them—the hiccups, the gasps, the wails that slip through when Luka forgets to be quiet. That’s what makes Father’s face twist. 

Luka gulps at the awful memory, sealing his pale lips tightly shut. 

“Hi there!” 

Luka sniffles quietly again, his damp, golden lashes brushing against his cheek.

“Hello…?”

Luka shivers. A strange, unhappy sound—half wail, half whimper—leaves his mouth involuntarily.

“Oh… What's wrong? Why are you crying?”

The sun is too bright, and Luka's eyes hurt a little when he lifts his head, disoriented—

 — and nearly jerks backwards when he meets the gaze of another pet-human, a girl.

Luka freezes. She is staring at him too, this pet-human, her own eyes wide and unsure. He stares back at her, if possible, with even wider eyes. Luka doesn’t know why she is staring at him, and he startles again when he realises with a bit of a delayed reaction— how close this pet-human is, crouching in front of him.

There is something nice about her face that makes Luka want to keep looking at her. She is crouching so close to him that Luka can see every detail of her face, solid, precise, and incredibly bold: her eyebrows are in thick strokes, her eyes sharp, alert and just a bit puzzled. Her hair, pulled back in a loose ponytail, is such a rich brown that it reminds him faintly of the acorns that would occasionally drop from the garden’s trees, thudding softly into the grass. 

The pet-human girl seems to not notice his lack of response, instead staring at his purple fingers. She looks so curious, as if she’s never seen anything like that before, however Luka cannot understand what is so special about his fingers. 

“Hey, why were you counting your fingers just now?” She finally asks, grinning at Luka, her whole face alight, as bright as the overhead sun. "Is that like, a special game or something? I don't think I've seen anyone do that before!"

Luka’s head feels fuzzy. No one has ever grinned at Luka like that before, directing their attention so wholly on him like he were a real thing too. Luka thinks the other pet-humans don’t like him very much. Whenever he waves at them, they only shrink back, never smiling, never waving in return. But this one is… different?

Luka still wishes the other pet-humans didn’t dislike him so much.

This unpleasant thought is forgotten however, when the pet-human girl plops herself comfortably in front of him, completely at ease and facing him expectantly. Luka blinks slowly, struggling to keep up with her train of thought as he sneaks a hesitant look in her direction, as if only just remembering her question. 

Why was he counting his fingers? That was a question no one had ever asked him, and Luka doesn’t know what would be the right answer.

Luka drops his gaze onto his own hands quizzically. "Oh... oh, I was just... checking," he mumbles uncertainly, his words still dazed. "Making sure I still had the same number as before..."

For whatever reason Luka cannot understand, the pet-human girl seems to find his reply funny, and Luka gazes at her in blank bafflement as she tilts her head, a carefree laugh slipping past her lips. His expression seems to make her grin wider, and she turns to him, intrigued, “Hey, what’s your name? You can call me Hyuna.”

“Hyu-na…?” Luka repeats in a croak, finding the syllables foreign on his tongue. Hyuna was a nice name. Luka has never met a pet-human called Hyuna before. 

“Yep,” Hyuna confirms, “What’s yours?”

“... Luka.”

Again, the pet-human girl— Hyuna— laughs, her eyes crinkling like half moon crescents. “That’s a cute name!”

Cute name…? Luka finds that strange, since Father had decided on his name. Was that a good thing?

Luka glances back at Hyuna tentatively, watching as she went back to examining his fingers, prodding this way and that. Luka thinks the unusual purple tint of his fingers must be very special, because Hyuna seems very curious about them. 

“Your fingers are so cool, it’s not fair,” Hyuna mutters, a note of envy in her voice as she frowns down at her own ordinary-looking fingers. “They’re all purple and stuff. That must be why you were counting them earlier, huh?” She says, grinning.

Luka’s brows furrowed slightly. Was that why he was counting them…? He cannot recall the reason he was counting them to begin with. 

“I-I don't remember…” He says honestly.

“Hmm… can I help you count them? I’m really good at counting things, you know!” 

“Okay…”

Hyuna visibly brightens. Without waiting, she reaches out to tap on his small fingers, and Luka stares, transfixed, as she easily manages to uncurl his tensed digits, which he had struggled to fold them open earlier. His fingers are no longer trembling, and Luka watches as her face screws up in a single-minded focus.

“One, two, three, four… five…”

Hyuna’s fingers are gentle, fluttering over Luka’s in a pleasant way. Luka likes having someone count his fingers. For once, his fingers do not instinctively curl up into a fist.

Hyuna must be really good at counting fingers, because she is quickly able to reach the tenth, unlike Luka who always got confused and lost count past five. “Wow, you really do have the same number as me!” Hyuna declares proudly, giggling, thoroughly fascinated by her new discovery. “Ten fingers, just like I do.”

“Ten fingers…” Luka repeats dazedly, feeling a bout of pleasant happiness wash over him at the confirmation. Luka had ten fingers, like all qualified pet-humans do. Luka met the requirement of the standard pet human, which meant he was competent enough to fit in with the rest. Perhaps Father would be just as thrilled as Luka at this confirmation.

Luka smiles, a great, stupefied grin plastered across his flushed cheeks. Luka feels earnestly pleased. He tugs sluggishly at Hyuna’s sleeve, grinning at her happily. 

Hyuna was the best.

⋆⭒˚𖠋𖠋𖠋*.⋆

Chapter Text

𐦂𖨆𐀪𖠋𐀪𐀪

For once, Hyuna appears a little taken aback, pupils of muted blue-gray stretched wide at the sight of Luka’s beaming face. 

Then, Hyuna seems to understand— what people mean when they say there is no greater joy than making someone smile. 

This kid .

Hyuna feels an unconscious fluttering in her chest. She ends up grinning too, a little softer this time. Something warm settles over her, like the cosy feeling of being wrapped up in a toasty blanket on a chilly night, where she and Hyun-woo would take turns counting sheep until they both dozed off. Luka’s grin is uneven, clumsy even—his lips barely know how to shape it right—but it’s a real one, so wide it scrunches his eyes shut and reveals the soft flush in his cheeks. His whole face lights up with it, and Hyuna wouldn’t have guessed such brightness could come from such a drowsy-eyed kid.

Hyuna blinks, caught off guard by how… cute it is.

He has such an adorable smile, it's golden. Glowing like it could melt the cold right out of the air. 

“You’re smiling,” She says, like she needs to say it out loud to believe it. “You’re really smiling…”

The blonde kid blinks slowly, dazed again. “I… am?”

“Uh-huh!” Hyuna nods, enthusiastic. “That’s the best smile I’ve ever seen.” She pauses, thinks for a bit, before shooting him a sly grin. “Actually, that’s the only smile I’ve seen from you, so it wins by default.”

Luka lets out a little noise—something between a hiccup and a laugh, appearing startled by the idea of ‘winning’ something. Hyuna frowns a little. Was the kid unfamiliar with praise too? She tilts her head, watching him curiously as he seems to be processing her words deeply. 

Whatever Luka had been thinking about, he doesn’t seem to arrive at an answer, only ending up looking more clueless than ever. Luka tugs at Hyuna’s sleeve again, this time more insistently, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. “Hyuna,” he says, very seriously, “Can we count my fingers again?”

Hyuna tilts her head, a bit amused. “Again? Didn’t we just do that?”

“But I forgot already,” Luka admits, and he says it so plainly Hyuna cannot find it in herself to accuse him of lying. “I want to make sure they’re still there…”

There’s a pause. Then:

“Okay,” Hyuna agrees, pretending to consider it deeply. “But only if we count mine after, so it’s fair.”

“Fair,” Luka echoes softly. Again, he appears to be deep in thought, as if the word reminded him of something. 

Huh. What a strange kid. 

“Luka?” Hyuna prompts, pulling him out of his thoughts as he lifts his bundle of messy, gold-spun curls to look at her.

“Hyuna?” He says, sounding mildly confused.

Hyuna holds out her hand first to him this time. “You go,” she grins. “Let’s see if you’re any good at counting fingers now.”

Luka’s lips part slightly. There’s a light in his eyes again, faint but alive. “O-Okay…”

He reaches out, very slowly, and taps each of Hyuna’s fingers, counting out loud in a mumble:

“One… two… three… four…”

Luka’s finger pauses. He looks up at her in alarm. “I lost count.”

Hyuna laughs, shaking her head. “You were doing fine, dummy. Keep going.”

“Dummy…” Luka repeats, puzzled. “Is that a special name?”

“Sure,” Hyuna says, deadpan despite the subtle twitch of her lips betraying her. “It’s a really special one. Only for people with squishy brains and cute faces.”

Luka’s face heats up immediately. “My brain’s not squishy…”

“Are you sure ?” Hyuna grins. “Because you forgot how to count to five like two minutes ago.”

“I was dizzy,” Luka mumbles, his pout half-hearted. “My heart’s not very good…”

The playful look on Hyuna’s face falters just a bit. She doesn’t know why, but something about the way he says it makes her chest feel heavy. Luka is not looking at her, his eyes trained downwards on the ground. The expression on his face almost resembles dejection, and Hyuna feels something akin to pity inside her chest quietly tugging loose. 

“…It’s okay,” she says after a beat, her tone quieter now. “You still have a good smile. That counts for something.”

Luka’s expression softens into tentative relief. He looks at Hyuna, bewildered, as if that were the first time someone’s ever said that to him. 

He really was a strange kid. Hyuna decides she will never get used to that soft look on his face.

“Then… if I smile again,” Luka asks quietly, voice barely above a whisper, gazing up at her with those wide eyes, his golden pupils small and awe-struck, “will you stay here, Hyuna?”

Hyuna blinks. And then she nods—just once, firm and certain.

“I’ll stay,” she says. “You don’t even have to smile for that.”

Luka stares at her, stunned, like she’s just promised him the sun.

Hyuna understands then, clearly and entirely, that she could never bring herself to leave this boy.