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The first thing Cale noticed was the silence.
And no, it was not the usual kind that often accompanied Choi Han's presence.
And that in itself was alarming.
Over the years, he had grown accustomed to the comfortable and unhurried sort that settled naturally between them. Choi Han had never been a particularly talkative person, and Cale had long since stopped expecting conversation simply for the sake of filling the air.
Which he's thankful for really, especially living with such a loud bunch. It's not that he hates it (he'd rather become a God than hate his family), as it gave his bleak life a variety of colors.
It's just something that he is still in the process of adapting to.
Anyways, most of the time, the quiet moments when the two were alone were easy. He would say peaceful even. It was the sort of silence that spoke of familiarity and affection rather than distance.
This silence, however, felt vastly different.
It had tugged his attention before he even realized it had. It was a subtle shift, like the feeling you get before a storm or rain comes.
Setting aside the report (from Alver good riddance) he had been halfheartedly skimming through, Cale slowly lifted his gaze.
And there across the room Choi Han sat beside the open window.
The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the parted curtains, bathing the room in a warm golden glow. It spilled over Choi Han's shoulders and traced the sharp line of his back, catching in the dark strands of his hair and turning their edges bronze.
Outside, a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the garden below, carrying with it the distant sounds of the children playing.
Yet somehow, the air in the room itself remained remarkably still.
But Choi Han didn't seem to notice.
Or perhaps he did and simply wasn't paying it any mind.
His shirt had been discarded somewhere nearby.
That alone wasn't unusual. The weather had been growing steadily warmer lately, and Choi Han had never cared much for appearances when he was relaxing in private.
Normally, Cale wouldn't have spared it a second glance. After all, what else had he not seen?
But what held his attention was the way Choi Han sat motionless on his seat.
His gaze was directed out the window, although it didn't seem focused on anything in particular, as though his thoughts had wandered somewhere far beyond the castle grounds.
And with his back turned, there was nothing to hide the network of scars stretching across his skin.
Cale's eyes lingered on them.
Choi Han never made any effort to conceal them, but neither did he draw attention to them.
They existed with the same quiet acceptance he afforded every painful part of his past. As if they were simply another fact of his existence, neither worthy of shame nor a discussion.
Yet seeing them now, illuminated beneath the afternoon sun, felt different somehow.
The scars cut across his back in pale uneven trails. With some had faded with time until they were little more than thin silver lines. And others remained jagged and pronounced, their shapes still visible even after all these years.
There was even a few stretched across broad expanses of skin, rough and irregular, carrying the unmistakable marks of wounds that had once been absolutely a nightmare for everyone.
It was wounds that should have killed him.
It was wounds that belonged to a version of Choi Han who had been forced to survive alone.
And the sight of it always stirred something uncomfortable in Cale's chest. Because those scars weren't merely scars.
They were evidence and proof.
It was proof of the countless battles fought with no guarantee of victory.
It was proof of endless days spent enduring when giving up would have been easier.
And it was proof of the years lived in a world that had taken everything from him and still demanded more, starting from the Forest of Darkness and all to the loss of Harris Village.
The decades of loneliness, the decades of grief, and all of it remained etched into Choi Han's skin long after the wounds themselves had healed.
And for a moment, Cale found himself unable to look away.
And no, not because the scars were ugly, they were never ugly. And it was not because they made Choi Han seem weak.
That was perhaps the furthest thing from the truth.
Rather, it was because they felt achingly familiar on another body.
His old body, Kim Rok Soo's body.
His old body had carried its own collection of scars. With some were small enough to be overlooked, others stretched across his skin in jagged reminders of accidents, emergency surgeries that even healers couldn't do anything to, and days he would rather forget.
It was all evidence of a life spent pushing forward because stopping had never been an option.
Back then, scars had simply just been there.
No one had really ever looked at them for more than a passing moment, no one had ever traced them with careful fingers or asked whether they still hurt, and certainly no one had ever regarded them with tenderness.
And no, not because people back then were cruel.
There had simply been no one close enough with him and stayed.
The realization settled heavily in his chest and for the first time in a long while, Cale wondered what it might have felt like if someone had.
If someone had looked at those old scars and seen more than damaged skin.
If someone had seen the person who survived them.
His gaze then returned to Choi Han and something seemed to tighten painfully in Cale's chest and before he could examine the feeling too closely, he already stood up and walked over.
At the sound of the floorboards creaking, Choi Han glanced over his shoulder with dark eyes meeting his in a questioning look.
"Cale-nim?"
But Cale didn't answer.
He continued forward until only a few steps separated them.
Then, as if waiting, the breeze drifted through the open window and stirred the curtains, carrying with t the scent of grass and sunlight into the room.
Still, Choi Han's attention never wavered from the red-haired man until Cale finally stopped behind him.
And then, without hesitation, he slipped his arms around Choi Han's waist.
The other's reaction was immediate.
The moment Choi Han felt the embrace, the lingering tension he hadn't even realized existed in his posture seemed to melt away as his shoulders relaxed beneath Cale's arms as he instinctively leaned back into the familiar warmth.
This wasn't unusual between them as physical closeness had long since become a natural thing between them.
What came next, however, was a bit surprising for him.
Cale had lowered his head slowly and carefully towards him, before pressing a soft kiss against the highest scar crossing Choi Han's shoulder.
He immediately felt the body beneath him stiffening and the slight hitch in his breathing.
And yet, he didn't pull away.
So, after noticing this, Cale then pressed another kiss to a scar nearby.
Then to another, and another, and another...
His lips followed the pale trails left behind by wounds long healed, tracing paths that had once been carved into skin through pain and survival with feather light touch.
It was a silent acknowledgment, a recognition of every injury Choi Han had endured and survived.
The scars spoke of battles, grief, and years spent alone in a trial that should have broken him.
And for reasons Cale couldn't quite put into words, he wanted to offer something, however small, to the person who had carried them for so long.
"Cale-nim?", a shaky breathe escaped Choi Han, the sound was almost uncertain in it's softeness.
Cale hummed back in response with his arms remaining secure around Choi Han's waist.
"What are you doing?" Choi Han continued quietly.
And for a brief moment, Cale considered dismissing the question.
Honestly, he could have made an excuse and Choi Han would accept it (no matter how doubtful it is.
However, he did not want that.
So instead, his eyes settled once more on the web of scars spread across Choi Han's back.
And suddenly, the answer felt so simple.
He pressed one more gentle kiss against a faded scar near Choi Han's shoulder blade before speaking.
"No one ever kissed them better before," he said quietly, as though they were the most obvious thing in the world.
Then his lips continued to brush another pale mark, a touch so light it was almost reverent.
"So I'm doing it now," he finally admitted.
And Choi Han was stunned speechless by him and for a moment, the only sound was the distant chirping of birds somewhere beyond the open window.
That slight delay in his reply, however, caused Cale to frown slightly.
Had he perhaps said something strange?
Wait, no, more strange than usual?
In hindsight, kissing someone's scars and declaring that he was doing it because no one else had ever done so before was probably not something most people would consider normal behaviour (did you just realize that?).
Then again, Cale had long stopped measuring his actions against what most people considered normal.
But, still, he somehow did not expect this.
Then eventually, he tentatively lifted his head from Choi Han's shoulder and intended to gauge his reaction.
The moment he finally had the courage to meet the other's eyes, he found Choi Han was staring at him causing to flinch and freeze.
Choi Han was not staring at him in confusion anymore as there was something else in his expression.
It was something so open that it caught Cale completely off guard.
Fragile
That was the only word that came to mind.
He was painfully and unbearably fragile, as though Cale had reached into a corner of Choi Han's heart that nobody else had touched before.
"Cale-nim...", Choi Han's words barely rose above a whisper.
"What?"
Choi Han's gaze wavered, and for the first time, he looked away, his eyes dropped toward the floorboards before shifting to his own hands resting in his lap.
It took a while beforr a small quiet laugh escaped him. However, if you listen closely you'll hear it's almost helpless and full of disbelief.
He took a breathe, the corners of Choi Han's lips curved upward slightly as he turned back towards the red-haired man staring at him with widened eyes.
"You really are unfair," he whispered.
That caused Cale stared at him in confusion.
"What did I do now?"
That accusation felt entirely undeserved!
Honestly, if anyone was being unreasonable here, it was Choi Han.
He was really filled of righteous indignation right now.
However, the culprit, instead of answering him, slowly turned within the circle of the grumbling Cale's arms. The caused the distance between them to disappear completely the moment they came face to face.
Cale was close enough to see the sunlight reflecting him in Choi Han's eyes.
That caused a faint flush to appear along the tips of his ears.
'Why is his eyes so damn bright,' he grumbled internally, but didn't move away.
He didn't move but he was also unwilling to break whatever had settled between them.
Then finally, it was Choi Han that first reached forward with his fingers wrapping gently around Cale's wrist.
"Cale-nim," he called out quietly, "your previous body had many scars too."
That caused Cale to stare at him.
The words struck him with a sudden and surprising force and for a brief moment, he forgot how to respond.
Very few people knew about Kim Rok Soo, especially the moment he became Cale Henituse.
And even fewer knew enough to understand what that life had truly been like.
There were some people who knew fragments of the story with pieces scattered here and there. They knew he had suffered and they knew his past had not been kind.
But knowledge and understanding were not the same thing.
And Choi Han saw everything and understood.
It may be perhaps because he carried similar scars himself, or perhaps because loneliness recognized loneliness.
Among everyone in this world, Choi Han was one of the few who understood what it meant to continue living after pain had become a constant companion.
And that realization made something ache unexpectedly within Cale's chest.
Before he could speak, Choi Han gently lifted his hand. His fingers were warm against Cale's skin, and then, without looking away, Choi Han lowered his head and pressed a kiss against the back of Cale's hand.
The touch lasted only a moment, yet it seemed to linger long after it ended.
It was not unlike the kisses Cale had just pressed against the scars on his back, except now the gesture was being returned.
And that had made something tighten painfully in Cale's chest.
It was a strange warmth that spread through him, with equal parts comfort and vulnerability, leaving him feeling unexpectedly exposed.
Was this how Choi Han felt earlier?
"Choi Han," he rasped out, his voice rougher than intended.
In response, Choi Han's thumb brushed lightly across his wrist.
"If no one kissed yours better either," he said softly, "then I should do it too."
The words settled between them it all it's simplicity and earnestness, which could only leave Cale to stare blankly, as for several seconds his mind supplied absolutely no useful response.
Then, because looking at Choi Han suddenly felt far more difficult than facing the stupid radish or the paperwork, he immediately turned his head away.
The tips of Cale's ears felt suspiciously warm.
This was unfair, extremely unfair.
He had been the one offering comfort, how had the situation reversed itself so quickly?
"That's ridiculous," he protested weakly.
Choi Han's eyes softened impossibly further.
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"You started it."
That made Cale click his tongue in irritation.
Unfortunately, Choi Han was correct.
Which only made the situation worse.
"I hate when you're right," he said flatly.
And that, had somehow, finally earned him a genuine smile from the other. A smile warm and bright enough to transform his entire face.
And despite himself, Cale found that he couldn't look away from it at all.
It was the kind of smile Choi Han rarely showed anyone. And no, it's not because he was incapable of smiling.
Cale had seen him smile countless times over the years, but somehow this felt different and stirred something warm within his chest, loosening a tension he hadn't realized he had been carrying.
The room suddenly felt lighter somehow, as though the afternoon sunlight pouring through the window had seeped beneath his skin and finally settled there.
Perhaps it was because he understood exactly how difficult that smile was to earn.
For years, they had each carried their scars alone, and the people around them cared for them more than either of them deserved.
But there were some wounds that remained difficult to share and some griefs that existed in places words could never fully reach.
Choi Han carried the remnants of a village reduced to memories and a loneliness so profound that most people could scarcely imagine surviving it.
Even now, after finding a new home, there were moments when traces of that old sorrow lingered in his eyes.
And Cale...
Cale carried a different kind of loneliness, adifferent kind of grief.
It was an entire life that existed nowhere in this world except within his own memories, as though he alone carried the burden of remembering someone who no longer existed.
Yet somehow, despite everything, they both found themselves arriving at the same place.
They met in the spaces where loneliness lingered, recognized each other's scars without needing explanations, and understood things that neither of them knew how to put into words.
And oerhaps that was why being with Choi Han felt so so effortless.
Because neither of them needed to justify their pain and explain why certain memories still hurt.
Because the understanding was simply there.
Choi Han took a small step forward. The movement was almost imperceptible. Yet it erased what little distance remained between them.
They were close enough that Cale could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and that if either of them moved even slightly, their foreheads would inevitably touch.
"Cale-nim,"Choi Han whispered, and the way he said his name made something tighten unexpectedly in Cale's chest.
"What?" he whispered back, his eyes meeting dark eyes filled with emotions Choi Han rarely voiced aloud.
"Thank you."
The words were simple enough, heck they were only two syllables.
And yet... they struck him with surprising force.
That made Cale immediately frown.
It's not like he disliked hearing them or disagreed, but because gratitude had always made him uncomfortable.
He never quite knew what to do with it, especially when it came from someone he cared about.
So, naturally, he chose the only reasonable course of action.
"You don't have to thank me," he huffed out.
"I do."
"You really don't."
"I really do."
Cale stared at him for several seconds before releasing an exaggerated sigh.
The sort of sigh he always meant to communicate how terribly inconvenienced he was by this entire conversation.
Unfortunately for him, it failed spectacularly this time, because Choi Han had laughed brightly and completely unrestrained.
The sound if his laugher filled the room, carrying none of the melancholy that had lingered there earlier.
And somehow, after hearing it, everything felt different.
Neither of them spoke afterward, there was no need to.
The silence that settled between them this time felt familiar again as they remained standing by the open window as the afternoon sunlight continued to spill across the floorboards.
The breeze drifted lazily through the room, stirring dark strands of hair and fluttering the curtains behind them.
Until eventually, Choi Han shifted closer. Then, without warning, lowered his head and rested his forehead against Cale's shoulder.
The gesture was so natural and so trusting, that Cale's breath caught for the briefest moment.
Of course, he immediately pretended otherwise.
He stared straight ahead and maintained a perfectly neutral expression and acted as though he hadn't noticed a thing.
Just as he pretended not to notice the way Choi Han's fingers tightened ever so slightly around his hand.
And certainly not the strange warmth filling his own chest as though something that had been missing for a very long time had finally found its place.
Perhaps some scars never truly disappeared and perhaps they weren't meant to.
Because not every wound could be erased and not every memory could be forgotten as the past would always remain a part of them.
But healing had never been about erasing scars.
It wasn't about pretending the wounds had never existed. Healing was something quieter, it was finding someone willing to look at every broken piece and stay and acknowledge the pain behind them and say,
"You survived, you deserved better, you should never have had to endure that alone, and from now on, you won't have to."
The thought settled softly within Cale's chest.
And when he finally lifted his gaze, he discovered Choi Han already watching him. And he understands what it meant.
It was a quiet promise.
The promise of someone who had chosen to stay and who would continue staying, no matter what scars either of them carried.
Cale rolled his eyes on instinct partly because Choi Han was staring and partly because emotions were troublesome.
And well, just probably, because he didn't know what else to do.
Then he leaned forward and closed the small distance between them, and pressed one last kiss against Choi Han's shoulder.
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