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His hallucinations weren't always of his sahyeong.
Sometimes, he could sense a bitter, medicinal smell lingering around the rooms he was in. The echo of a laugh or a call of his name. He dismissed it all as tricks of his mind.
Cheong Myeong wasn't exactly sane in the first place; with what he saw in the corners of his vision whenever he woke. Or when his worries threatened to take his reason away.
Always those same whispers of failure or sights of gore and red sky.
The occasional phantom touch on his arm or cheek was a welcome distraction when those nightmares drew close. He would tighten his fists, clench his teeth, hold his breath, and hope the illusion passed; it never got any easier to hold on.
But then he'd see green at the edge of his vision, his wind-mussed hair sweep in front and cover his eyes. A stray gust would caress his face, so that his next blink washed the surroundings clear.
He thought of him then. But quickly pushed the thoughts away and moved to train more.
~
The trip to Sichuan wasn't easy at all. Sure, he was nervous to walk those streets again; but the murmurs in his ear could almost pass as words spoken on a busy road and not just howling wind the closer he got.
When he finally fell asleep drunk, he swore he had heard a part of his name.
The look-alike almost had him fearing for his waning sanity, but the blur of THAT face, when he passed out after the duel, was worse.
~
Before his second visit to the Tang clan, the whispers weren't that bad to deal with anymore. He'd come to begrudgingly rely on those small comforts of a familiar presence.
Tang Soso practiced medicine; so she naturally brought the herbal scent along with her. And with more and more responsibilities to deal with, even those faint murmurs became part of the background.
After he was gifted the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword, though ...
~
Swing.
— Hyeong-nim ...
The whisper was muffled by another slash of the sword closely following the previous ones. Getting some meaningful practice in was becoming more difficult these days.
He was getting distracted by the sweet voice calling out his name. Like a siren; it sang of his desires in an airy tone. It giggled and praised his achievements, sometimes chided his recklessness or impulsive actions.
It was almost like he was really ...
— Dosa-nim ...
Grit.
Cheong Myeong tightened his grip on the handle and swung the final arch with his blade.
— Amazing as always ...!
"Shut it."
He was getting tired of being played by his mind.
— Hyeong-nim is always so quick to anger ...
"Tsk."
Getting angry would only cost him energy. It's not like the hallucination was real anyway ...
— I can tell what you're thinking just by that face, Hyeong-nim ...
(Don't get angry. It won't lead anywhere.)
— Anyways ... I tire of repeating myself so much ...
(It will take away from precious training time.)
— But I've finally got it figured out ...!
(But that damned ghost ... Just keeps ...!)
— ... Just send some internal energy directly into the blade, really ...! No techniques or anything...
"Ugh."
(Well. It's not like trying will cause any harm, and ...)
That ghost had been trying to strike up a conversation with him whenever he'd gone out to train by himself. Was there truly something wrong with him ...? These hallucinations were never this ... Vivid and life-like.
It almost got him hoping it was real ...
(Pathetic.)
But he still sent some of his qi inside the sword. He couldn't really feel anything different about it or anything, though. And as there continued to be no changes after a couple of blinks, he started to reprimand himself internally.
It really was only going to make him miserable if he continued to ...
Shing.
His vision was filled with a familiar figure appearing before him.
"What about this, huh, hyeong-nim?"
Tang Bo smiled crookedly; his mischievous expression clear as day. Or night ... As the full moon shone down on the clearing, illuminating the person who took Cheong Myeong's breath away.
He lifted his arm to Tang Bo's face, but stopped himself a hand's width away before whispering:
"Bo-ya ...?"
"Your one and only! Honestly, hyeong-nim ... With what I've been telling you; how are you still so surprised? Or is it awe at my greatness you feel, because ..."
His monologue was stopped by a crushing hug, sending them both to the ground.
Cheong Myeong marvelled at the feel of warm skin under his arms. He brought his hands to Tang Bo's face, peering into the dark eyes to search for any trick or falsehood. This was almost too good ... No, it must have been too good to be true, because how could Tang ...
"Hyeong-nim." Tang Bo spoke over the panic in Cheong Myeong's head. "I really am here with you now."
And all the doubt just ... Washed away, as tears spilled down his cheeks. He really was here. And it really was him. And he stayed the entire time; even though Cheong Myeong failed ...
"None of that now," he said as if reading Cheong Myeong's thoughts. "I've been watching you these past few years now; you can't hide any emotions away from me now."
"Bo ..."
"You did good, hyeong-nim," he comforted again. "It's alright to cry."