Even if he was being told to go, Jin’s heart still spluttered a bit over the casual way Ahn-Bo called him ‘Jin-a.’ If nothing else, it was a fragment of before that remained consistent after. And it mean Jin still had some, if only marginal, leverage to exert. He’d known he would face obstacles in getting Ahn-Bo to agree to anything; he was lucky to have come this far before facing the first.

Wiggling his fingers encouragingly, Jin only inclined his head. “Anieyo,” he parroted back, still smiling. “Let me just do this for you, jebal, Bo-ah.” He shouldered his sack and took a step closer, hand still outstretched. “I brought your favorite snacks,” he offered, more quietly this time. It might not be enough to tempt Ahn-Bo on food alone anymore, but Jin knew they had to eat before having this conversation. Everyone was grouchier on an empty stomach, himself included, and it was going to be dark soon.

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The smile on his face finally faltered at the harsh bite in Ahn-Bo’s response. Jin’s hand fell to his side and he took a small step back, to right himself in his stance, as he squared off in front of his friend. They were going to do this here and now then? He’d have much preferred to eat first and not be lingering in the dark, but so be it. “Ani,” Jin said for the third time, with more gumption than the last. “I’m not planning on it.”

It didn’t matter that Ahn-Bo-ah didn’t want him here. He hadn’t exactly come with his friend’s blessing in the first place. It hurt to hear those words, but not as much as he knew it probably ached to say them. The look on Ahn-Bo’s face was sharp but drawn. He didn’t seem like he had that much energy for anything, much less fighting. Jin sucked in a small breath and evened his tone to try and, hopefully, keep them from it. “I’m not going back, Ahn-Bo-ah. Not without you.”

He let those words hang in the balance for a moment, studying how they landed, before continuing. Would the expected shout finally come? Would Ahn-Bo laugh him into next year? Jin let out a soft sigh and took a step closer, perching himself on the side of the same rock his friend still sat upon. It was dangerous to get this close to a snarling animal, but Jin had no concern at all that Ahn-Bo would hurt him. No matter how hard he tried to feign the monster. “I was going to wait to explain until after we ate, but I didn’t come here on blind faith,” he reassured evenly. “I have a plan. I have a place where you’ll be” relatively “safe, and taken care of, and… you won’t be able to hurt me during the full moon. I promise, Bo-ah. If you just trust me, we can go back now and eat for a bit and I’ll explain everything. Jebal?”

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Jin resisted the urge to jut out his lower lip in a stubborn pout as Ahn-Bo swiveled away from him on the rock they were perched on. It was silly, and he hadn’t gone very far, but even from that small action Jin could see that he was suffering. It ached to hear Bo-ah call himself a monster; he was the furthest thing from it, even if he’d made a mistake. It wasn’t like he could control himself or he’d done it on purpose! But these were not things that would be useful to remind his friend. No amount of reason or logic would assuage the guilt he felt brewing deep in his gut. Jin knew. He’d experienced some of that with Myeong.

He forced himself to stay quiet, biting down hard on his lower lip, as Ahn-Bo-ah tried to force out the very painful confession of what had happened. Hearing his suspicions confirmed made Jin’s stomach roil again from the memory. He did his best to keep his face neutral but the pinch between his brows was as laced with concern as it was wont to be, ever. Still, he knew Ahn-Bo needed to say the words so they could move past it one day. Or at least, begin to.

“Bo-ah,” he said softly, the nickname laced with every ounce of sincerity and adoration Jin could manage. “What happened to you, and subsequently to Ha-Eun, was not your fault. Fate sometimes has a way of turning cruel and there is nothing you could have done to prevent it. It was… destined, to be this way.” Now he sounded like an old ahjussi who’d smoked something too strong, but Jin pressed on. “You are not a monster,” he insisted, reaching out to let his hand rest just gently on his friend’s back. “And I promise, if you come with me, there are protections in place to prevent anything else from happening again. You won’t be able to hurt me, even if you wanted to,” Abeoji would make absolutely sure of that “but I know you could never.” Jin lowered his voice to a pleading tone. “Jebal, Bo-ah. Nal mido.”

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Jin shifted, knowing that the words coming out of his mouth would do nobody much good. It wasn’t like reassurances had ever made him feel better when he was tragically upset, but there was nothing else to do. He had to convince Ahn-Bo-ah to come with him; he couldn’t just stay out here forever.

Jin felt his heart pinch again at his friend’s sniffle but this time it was like someone had grabbed him by the organ and was squeezing, without any intention of letting go. “I’m not!” He said quickly. And without much self restraint or will for any, Jin slid closer to Ahn-Bo’s turned back and wrapped his arms around his friend. He rested his cheek against Ahn-Bo-ah and closed his eyes, trying to force out the truth that he had yet been avoiding. It wasn’t just as simple as having a magical place where they could live happily ever after. Bo-ah was right. That didn’t exist.

“The truth is… it’s not… a wonderful, spectacular place. But it does exist.” Jin squeezed him tighter and buried his nose in his friend’s back. Then, pressing a small kiss there, he peeled himself away and sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ve never told you very much about my family or my home, and for good reason. It’s not… the type of place you imagine it might be.” Turning to rest his elbows on his knees, Jin steadied himself for what he wanted to share. He wasn’t sure it was fair not to warn Ahn-Bo-ah of what he was walking into; but in the same breathe Jin would do anything to make sure he was safe, and staying away was not going to accomplish that. “I’ll be honest, at first I didn’t want to even think of what it would be like, forcing you into this place. But the more I struggled to come up with a real plan, something viable that would keep you safe, it was the only way that kept coming back to me.

“My Abeoji is… a business man, of sorts. He took me in when I was very young, after I ran away from my family. He was never perfect, but he provided for me and sent me to school so I could learn about who and what I am.” Jin pursed his lips and hesitated for a moment before continuing. “But living at the Menagerie does not come without its price. It started with just a few performances for Abeoji’s business associates. They were… curious, I guess, about the half-vampire boy and wanted to see me drink blood.” Ahn-Bo-ah would probably remember the first time that happened, and their little fight after the holiday. “Then it became something of a show: the tamed monster, an exotic curiosity for people to poke and prod at. Sometimes I’d have to stand outside in the sun so they could see how I reacted to it, other times it was as simple as letting people stick their fingers in my mouth. One time I was even asked to bite someone while under the imperious curse.” Jin snorted as if laughing could make it any less terrible a memory. He’d refused, so he’d been persuaded. “Sometimes Abeoji asks me to perform, too. To sing or play, so that I can help his business along. It’s never for long and it’s always with some enchantment or curse, but—” Jin waved his hand as if shooing away that train of thought. “My point is, our compound is not exactly going to be the kind of place you dream about, but it is a place where you couldn’t hurt anyone. We’ve had werewolves there before…” Jin said the latter softly, trailing off. “And we have others who have come and gone through our doors, not exactly the most average of witches or wizards.” Jin shrugged one shoulder up towards his ear uncomfortably. He didn’t know a lot about what Abeoji’s business entailed but he knew it wasn’t savory, and the types of people that came and went (sometimes in cages) were not going to be the tamest.

“Anyway… It won’t come without a price.” Jin forced himself to look back up at his friend, keeping a safe distance between them. “But I didn’t know what else to do. I can’t leave you here, alone and unsheltered,” his voice broke on that statement and Jin decided it was enough. Either Ahn-Bo-ah would hear what Jin was trying to tell him, or he wouldn’t. But there was no use begging again until he knew. Because he would: he’d beg and plead and kick and scream until his friend agreed. It wasn’t a fair choice to make on his behalf, selling Ahn-Bo’s pure white soul to the Joseung Saja, but Jin had already done it.

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Jin could see, from the moment he looked up, that whatever blank hollowness had been sitting inside Ahn-Bo-ah had vanished. In its place, filling every crack and crevice where there should have been joy and light, there was only… anguish? Jin wasn’t exactly sure. But it was something, and something was better than nothing. He was surprised, maybe, that Ahn-Bo pulled him close but Jin didn’t hesitate in clinging to him back. He missed his friend, more than he missed whatever else they’d become after thier confession— Ahn-Bo-ah was his one and his only. His danjak chinguu. Jin squeezed his eyes shut against the thought, guilt already creeping in at what he was about to do. It wasn’t a perfect solution. He’d have rather sold himself to the devil tenfold than inflict his Abeoji on Ahn-Bo. But the alternative was… death. And permanent separation. Two things Jin was too selfish to allow.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he mumbled, not letting go even a fraction. “I’m fine, really. It’s not as bad as it sounds. But…” and here Jin did pull back, only marginally, so he could brush the slightly choppy fringe out of his best friend’s face and look at him as he spoke. “I do have to go back,” there would be absolutely no question of that and his voice was deadly serious. He couldn’t even imagine what Abeoji would do if he didn’t and instead found him here with Ahn-Bo-ah. It was too late. He’d already implicated his friend. “But… it’s a relatively safe place. And you’ll be protected and fed. Come with me, Bo-ah. Jebal,” Jin pleaded.

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As the implications of what he’d done began to filter in, Jin realized— even though it was posed as a question, it had never been a choice.

From the moment he mentioned Ahn-Bo to his Abeoji, the tie had been created. It didn’t matter in the end if his friend thought he was safer here, alone, and chose to stay on his mountain. Now that Jin had circled him in ink on an otherwise blank page as someone special, someone Jin cared about, Bo-ah would never be safe from the threat of Jeong Yeom anywhere in Joseon. It was why he’d always allowed the appearance of self-isolation that Abeoji seemed to prefer. If there was nobody to care for him but Yeom, then the bind was ever tighter, ne? But now that the truth was revealed, now that Abeoji knew there was something or someone that Jin would do anything for— even willingly sell a soul into the same Menagerie he was bound to— it was a loose thread. A piece of leverage Jin had willingly handed over in exchange for the only solution he could conceive of.

But what alternative had there been?! He’d wracked his brains for weeks, studied up on every possible scrap of information on werewolves and subduing them that could possibly be had (very little in the end), but nothing had turned up a viable solution to their predicament. Or even an experimental one. Jin might have tried that first if it had been an option. But it wasn’t. And he was still, in a way, trying to convince himself that he’d made the right choice. For both of them. But somehow— as Ahn-Bo pressed a sweet kiss against his forehead and Jin clung to him like his life depended on it — he felt like it was the biggest mistake he could have made.

In the end, even Ahn-Bo-ah had to come to the only reasonable conclusion there was to be had. He agreed, and Jin felt a pit sink into his stomach like acid.

He peeled himself away and wiped at his watery eyes that had started to betray him somewhere in the midst of the kiss and Ahn-Bo’s agreement. Jin tried to forget how doomed they were and instead forced a pleased little smile on his face. “Jinjja?” he asked quietly. But there was nothing to confirm. There was only… moving to the next step.

Jin forced himself to suck in a steadying breath as darkness continued to fall around them. By now the last scraps of sunlight were sinking down past the horizon and the forest was cast in a blue-black light, almost completely dark. The sounds of wildlife were growing louder and Jin knew, werewolf and vampire or not, they needed to find shelter for the evening. There was more to be had of this conversation, certainly— details he didn’t want, but probably needed to share before he marched his friend into a jail cell. But all that could wait until after they were fed. Once he could tuck Ahn-Bo-ah in and sing him a lullaby and pretend, just for a second, that he wasn’t selling his friend’s soul off under the guise of ‘no other choice.’

Rubbing a tired hand over his face one last time, Jin gave a short nod. “Geurae, we should… probably get going then. I’m hungry,” he offered as means of temptation, but there was no part of Jin that was likely to keep food down at all. He stood and shouldered his sack again before noticing, right by his left foot, his wand laying in the dirt. Whoops. Jin quickly picked it up and brushed it off. He really was terrible at keeping track of it, wasn’t he?

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In the end, Jin wasn’t sure what had finally convinced Ahn-Bo-ah to agree, even though he knew it was inevitable. He’d been prepared for more of an argument, to have to force his friend to see reason— but this felt… too easy. Suspiciously so. Like something he ought to predict was happening before his very eyes but he was too blind to see what it was yet. Jin brushed the thought aside, wearily. He couldn’t look a gift in the mouth; he should just be glad and carry on before either of them had a chance to second guess. (Because he was still second guessing how much to share next, but it felt important.)

He followed Ahn-Bo dutifully as his friend took his hand and began to lead him through the woods. Bo-ah’s fingers were thin and calloused, like they’d been doing a lot more manual labour than he was used to, and Jin gave the hand a small squeeze as much to reassure himself as to reassure Ahn-Bo. It took everything in his power not to yank them to a halt and kiss him senseless, just out of an anxious need to be there physically, but this wasn’t the time. Fifteen minutes felt like days but eventually, they paused outside the mouth of a cave.

It took a moment for Jin’s slightly more sensitive eyes to adjust to the pitch dark of the cave. The smell was what hit him first, and he instinctively took a step back. This… was how Ahn-Bo-ah had been living for the past few months. The clutter, the scant necessities, the mess of letters— his letters probably (all unopened, Jin noticed unimpressed) — but worst of all was the reality that it was here where Ahn-Bo hid in all his shame and agony before and after the accident. He felt a wave of nausea roll in his stomach at the thought. Jin’s hold on Bo-ah tightened, but he tried to keep his face neutral as he plowed forward and yanked his friend along behind him.

The first thing he did — because of course, it was Jin — was waddle over to the place that looked like it had been used for a fire. He lit one there magically and squatted in front of it, crouched on his heels, but refusing to let go of his friend as he warmed himself. Jin felt the chill abate a fraction, and he softened around the edges as the heat brought forth a flush in his cheeks. “Machimnae,” he muttered, more to himself than to Ahn-Bo. Then, letting his bag drop to the ground, Jin forced himself to relinquish Ahn-Bo’s hand and pulled out a whole plethora of dishes and supplies.

There were bowls, chopsticks, a knife (which he’d stolen in secret), a satchel of fresh water, some herbs (many herbs actually) and a few covered dishes that the cook had begrudgingly given him. Jin set about heating the various dishes over the fire with his wand and then sliced up a few of the herbs to make tea. Spirits, what he wouldn’t give for a pot of tea! Then, sliding out a few of the snacks he’d hoarded from Maho, Jin turned towards his friend and handed them to him. “I made sure to steal extra honey cakes this time,” he offered, the hint of a real smile turning up his cheek at last. In domesticity, Jin found peace. They could forget about their situation for a few minutes while their hands were busy.

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The sound of Ahn-Bo’s stomach growl made Jin smile so widely that he laughed, exposing one dimple. There was familiarity in that sound unlike any he could really explain. As Bo-ah settled beside him, Jin felt himself calm even more— the peace within radiating out a bit. If they could just have this, forever, he’d have been perfectly happy too. Jin spent a lot of time lingering in the kitchens when he was home, just watching the cooks go about their business. He’d learned a lot from them just through observation and the occasional question, or from Eun-Ho; the rest he’d learned when living in the apothecary with Eomma and Myeong. These days though Jin relished a good herbology or potions book. It was just domestic enough to be useful and unalarming.

He accepted the honey cake passed to him and took a small bite. Eun-Ho made the best ones, but these were pretty good too. Idly, Jin wondered if Ahn-Bo and Eun-Ho would get along; he couldn’t imagine they wouldn’t. They were both such marked fixtures in his life. And when he wasn’t grumpy and hollow, Ahn-Bo got along with everyone. It was impossible to dislike him. Same for Eun-Ho, really. She was too quiet and unobtrusive to dislike.

The water boiled and Jin was quick to move it off the fire and mix together a blend of herbs with two small jujubes that he cut in half before plopping into the kettle. “This should have a soothing effect for your muscles,” he said easily, setting the kettle aside to steep while he dug out two small tea cups. Jin could only imagine how sore Ahn-Bo must be after sleeping in a thin bedroll in a cave for all these months. The smell of cooked food was starting to permeate however, chasing out whatever stench had lingered before, and Jin wondered if he should tidy up now or wait. One glance at Ahn-Bo-ah and he decided to wait.

His friend still looked drawn and exhausted, but at least there was some life back in his honey-brown eyes. They flickered in the firelight, watching as Jin shuffled about, and the little vampire couldn’t help but smile as he poked Ahn-Bo-ah in the cheek playfully. “You should be thanking me for not bringing fish,” he teased lightly. “Yorisanim had prepared Maeuntang for my homecoming but I convinced him to make us Yukgaejang instead. It won’t be perfect, since it’s not fresh, but better than fish, ne?” Jin poured the tea and handed him a cup. "Drink this in the meantime," he said a little more gently. "It will help your stomach settle."

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