CW: Explicit language, graphic description of wounds/burns.
Over the next two weeks, he comes to understand pain quite intimately. He comes to know of its nuances. The different types and intensities. The kinds that he can withstand, if not welcome, and the kind that drives him to the edge of sanity. The worst kind of pain is the one outside of his control. When it’s so sudden and shattering that it leaves him no time to breathe, let alone prepare himself. The kind that leaves him screaming mindlessly like a tortured beast and all he can do is remove himself from his own body.
The best kind of pain is the one he expects. He endures this kind now, sitting quietly and obediently as Jun carefully cleans his wounds.
He has been healing well under the steady care of Healer Wu and the little lord, though there would be irreparable scars permanently marring his visage. The most grievous of which is his right eye, which had melted in its socket, leaving behind a hollow which is now filled with sterile packing. Burns extends down his right cheek and covers a vast section of his neck and chest, the once porcelain smooth skin now angry and puckered. He also has burns elsewhere on his body in large swatches, but those are mostly mild due to his clothes acting as a protective layer.
Rin hasn’t yet seen himself in the mirror. It’s not so much his sense of vanity as it is the stark reminder of what had transpired. His memories of that day are murky at best and any attempt to probe deeper invites a debilitating sense of fear.
Jun’s face fills his vision as he carefully repacks his eye socket, brows furrowed deeply in focus.
A flinch in Rin’s cheek startles the lord, concern stark in his goldens. “Apologies, Rinnie. I…” He pulls in a short breath. “I will be more careful.” Locking his jaw, the crease between his brows deepens. True to his word, his touch is near featherlight, as if he were handling the most fragile glass.
“How does it look today?” Rin asks, voice still hoarse from sleep. His syllables are a little stiff as he tries to avoid moving his jaw too much, lest he aggravate his wounds. “Disgusting, right?” He hums a laugh, shoulders lurching.
A profound sadness fills Jun’s face, as if Rin had lamented heartache rather than made a callous joke. “No Rinnie, not at all,” he says softly, taping down a gauze pad to cover the socket. “You are healing remarkably well. I think we can leave your face uncovered at least and let the burns breathe.”
“...do you think that’s a good idea?” Rin purses his lips, doubt flickering in his eye.
“I do,” is the firm response from the lord. He sets down the bowl of used packing and picks up a simple black eyepatch. This, he presents to his friend with a warm smile. “This is for you. I know I could have picked one up from the Clinic, but I…” A tender blush kisses his cheeks. “I wished to make you one myself. I hope it is to your liking.”
Arching his brow, Rin takes the eyepatch, lifting it in both hands to study it closely. The material is silken and cool to the touch, and there’s a tiny silver rat embroidered into the upper corner of the patch. It’s done rather skillfully and with evident care.
He feels his own cheeks inexplicably burn as he gingerly tugs it over his head. It feels good on his face, like it’s keeping that foreign emptiness at bay. “It’s...nice,” he mutters, brushing his fingertips over the smooth fabric. “I didn’t know you could make things like this.”
The lord’s face brightens at Rin’s obvious pleasure. He hums his affirmation and begins packing away his Healer’s bag. “I learned how to sew from Mira. She says that one can never know when one will need to darn a sock, especially during combat.”
“She...wants you to sew during combat?” Rin blinks and for a gut churning moment, he’s hyper aware of his missing eye. Grimacing, he presses his palm against the patch.
“A soldier’s feet are incredibly important when in battle. A good pair of socks are necessary to protect them against the environment.” Jun clicks the leather bag shut and sets it upon the bedside table. He turns back to Rin, face falling when he sees his grimace. “Are you in pain?”
“No,” the raven huffs, dropping his hand. He switches his grimace for a wry smile. A weak reassurance for the worried lord. “I’m fine. I just find it strange sometimes. Like...I’m missing half of myself.”
A deep ache squeezes Jun’s chest. He reaches out and cups Rin’s uninjured cheek with his palm, thumb sweeping gently beneath his eye. His other hand comes to rest on the other side, pressing lightly against his ear. “Do you feel this? You may have lost your sight, but you are still whole. You are still entirely you.”
Having his face held so delicately within those rough hands brings a heat like no other. Rin finds himself suddenly unable to speak, his eye growing twofold when they meet those honeyed pools. “I-I know that, moron,” he manages to push out, averting his gaze with a half-hearted scowl. “Obviously I’m still me. Who else would I be?”
Jun stares intently, trepidation growing like a toxic bloom. He’s reminded of what Lee had reported after Rin trespassed onto the estate. The youth had apparently acted as if he were a completely different person and displayed great agility with the blade. As far as Jun knows, Rin has had little to no experience with swords. Could this be Luna? Jun absently tucks a stray sable lock behind Rin’s ear. Now that I think about it, we know so little about this ostensible god.
“Ah.” Rin squirms under the lord’s stare, his bandaged hands tugging at the front of his own robes. “So when am I supposed to meet your old man?”
Jun releases him and strides over to the window. The raven feels a twist of regret. He touches the sides of his face, trying to capture the lord’s lingering warmth.
“Tomorrow,” Jun says stiffly, pulling the window open. The late spring air carries with it the scent of ripe blooms. He leans his hands upon the frame, pulling in a deep invigorating breath. “He has agreed to let you stay in the guest house until you recover, mostly for your part in exposing Father Blossom. However, he wishes to test you.”
Rin swings his legs over the side of the bed, wincing when he accidentally pulls the wounds on his torso. “Test me? On what?”
“Your character. Your intent. And ultimately, how useful you are to him.” Jun turns to lean against the frame, folding his arms. An austere look hardens his features. “Lee and I managed to talk him down from hanging you, Rinnie. However, this compromise comes at a price. You must appear useful to him or he may still consider you for the gallows.” He locks his jaw, oaken lashes casting long shadows in his gaze. “That is the kind of man my father is. I hope you do not take this to heart.”
The Rat clicks his tongue in irritation. “Well, it’s not the first time I’ve met a guy like him. In a way, this is easier for me. I don’t know much about character or intent or whatever, but I do know transactions. Token for service. Same thing, right?” He laughs, grin forced crooked to preserve his injured cheek. “But I’m impressed, little lord. You actually stood up to him?”
“Not as much as I’d hoped,” Jun says, smiling faintly. “It was mostly Lee who convinced my father. I find it difficult to have him hear me.”
“What, has he no ears?”
“He tends to disregard me.” The lord rubs the side of his neck and tilts his head, exposing a rather forlorn profile. “My brothers never lived up to my father’s expectations. They fled down their own paths, which I find admirable. In a way, I am my father’s last hope. His sole heir, so to speak. Thus, the expectations for me are higher. Heavier. And...much like my brothers, I am not meeting them.” The corners of his mouth curves into a rather vicious smile. So unbefitting the lord. His eyes are hooded and cold. “I will never meet them, Rinnie. Because what he truly wants is himself. And I cannot possibly be the kind of man he is.”
“What kind of man do you think he is?” Rin pushes himself from the bed, finding himself drawn towards the other. The compulsion is profound and impossible to ignore.
He comes to stand toe to toe with Jun and he impulsively wraps his arms around the bigger man’s waist, pressing himself into his body. When he raises his face to the lord, he’s met with a heated look that melts the ice in those goldens.
“First Lord Hwan Sun is the kind of man who speaks face to face with the Mother.” Jun dips his head, resting his forehead upon Rin’s. Lashes flutter upon his waterlines. His breath is steady. His touch secure. “He is the kind of man who sees people as nothing more than pawns. A man so fixated on the Four Territories and the Unknown Lands, that he has lost sight of Hanjuyang.”
Rin raises himself on his tiptoes to press a kiss on the lord’s clenched jaw. “Sounds like a dick,” he hums, hellebore glinting with affection. “Maybe we should grease him up with some drink. Pay someone to lie with him. Do you think he wouldn’t be such an asshole then?”
“Rinnie.” Jun’s brows knit together, clearly disturbed by the idea of his father ‘lying’ with anyone. “You must not underestimate him. Remember, he has the power to send you to the gallows. Even if Lee and I were to protest, it is uncertain whether he would be swayed for a second time. I should not like to take chances with your life.”
“I know,” Rin sighs, plopping his chin upon the other’s broad shoulder. He feels Jun's arms wrap loosely around his form, minding his wounds. “But I’ll be fine. I can talk myself out of anything, so convincing a dipshit lord of my value is nothing for me.”
A low rumble hums in the base of Jun’s throat. An idle hand rises to play with the raven’s hair, winding silken strands around calloused digits. “I know you will do well.”
The Rat relaxes from the lord’s gentle ministrations. His eyes flutter close and he feels himself drift. Warm spring currents brush against his exposed face, tickling the sensitive young skin. This life might not be too bad, he dazes. If it’s just us...it might not be too bad...
“I visited the Guildmaster yesterday,” Jun says softly, sounding as if he’s on the verge of sleep himself.
“Oh?” Rin murmurs, lazily. “Why didn’t you say anything? I would have come with you.”
“I know. Which is why I did not say anything. You should be resting, Rinnie.”
“Hm. Resting is boring.” Rin stifles a yawn and lolls his head to the side, peeking at Jun’s relaxed profile. “How’s Bucky? Have the Roses said anything yet?”
“Bucky has recovered well. It appears as though she may be joining the Hunter’s Guild. As for the Roses...a Healer from the Clinic who specialises in the mind has been consulting with the Guildmaster. It may yet take some time before the Roses have recovered enough to be coherent. Many of them have also suffered physical injuries to the brain, which can hinder communication.”
Rin wrinkles his nose in irritation. He squeezes his eye shut again. “I can’t believe we still haven’t caught Blossom. He’s just gonna start up another Church somewhere. Especially if the Mother is behind him. Do you think he might contact Kahin?”
“Father has placed the Rose Palace under watch with rotating teams of Silverswords. So far there has been no reports of Blossom attempting contact. And vice versa.”
“What’s she been doing?”
“The Rose Palace reopened to the public the day after you...well, trespassed.”
Sable lashes quiver. A faint crease digs between Rin’s brows. “That fucking bitch,” he whispers, barely loud enough for Jun to hear.
The lord’s hand splays flat against his back, rubbing soothing circles. “My father has assured me he has been working with the Silverswords to investigate this matter. We can ask him for an update tomorrow. I am sure he will have much development to share with us.”
“What about the Slums?” Rin raises his head, too restless now to doze. “Is…” The rest of his words dry up in his mouth. His heart knocks painfully into his ribs.
Jun glances down at him, his gaze dark and sympathetic. “Nuwa and the Guildmaster had arranged for your mother to be buried in the cemetery. From what I heard...it was a rather...intimate send off. Your house is...it is unsalvageable.”
“Intimate.” Rin says flatly. “You mean no-one showed up.”
“Rinnie…”
“Of course no-one did. Not even her son was there. Why would anyone else bother?” He laughs wryly and pulls away from the lord.
Jun reluctantly releases him. When Rin steps away, a chill quickly enters his body. A stark reminder of the sudden absence. “When you have recovered, we will visit her together. Give her a proper send off.”
“Have you heard anything about Bellow?” Rin asks abruptly, slowly lowering himself back into bed. He winces and bites his bottom lip as sharp pain arcs from the wound on his left rib cage. “Last I heard, he was having a tough time without me.”
The lord rubs his nape, unhappy about the sudden diversion in conversation. He responds nonetheless as prompted. “According to Small, the situation is deteriorating in the Slums. A man by the name of Marquis has seized control of the district. This is particularly concerning, Rinnie. I am wondering if I should ask my father to send some Silverswords--”
“No,” Rin says, curtly. He shoots a cold glare at the lord, eye narrowing. “You think the Silverswords are there to help us?”
“But of course. Silverswords are vowed to protect all citizens of Hanjuyang and the Eastern Territory under--”
“Silverswords are man-shaped guard dogs, little lord,” Rin scoffs, gingerly tugging the comforter over his legs. “They only exist to protect the High District. Slummers are nothing but pests they need to get rid of. If you order them into the Slums, who knows what they’ll do.”
“But this Marquis person--”
“If he wants the Slums, he can have it.” Rin’s complexion turns wan at the mere mention of the Marquis. He gazes down at his hands, chewing on his cheeks. “Nothing will change. The Slums will always be a shithole no matter who’s running it. The Mother, the Governor, or the Marquis. Nothing ever changes.”
A soft sigh sounds before footsteps follow. The mattress dips under the lord’s weight. Warm, rough hands cover his own, stilling them.
He glances up at Jun, feeling rather apathetic. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Sombre eyes pour over the raven’s grey countenance. “Rinnie, what you had to go through...it never should have happened--”
“Yeah, it shouldn’t have. But it did. So there’s no point talking about it.”
Those large hands squeeze gently. An unbearable ache crawls from his chest to his throat, clenching the muscles there.
“Rinnie, it may help to talk--”
“I don’t want to!” Rin snarls, ripping his hands free to give Jun a brutal shove. “Ah--fuck!” He gasps and hunches over, clutching his middle as jagged glass bites his flesh. He trembles ever so slightly, face creased in suffering. “I can’t, Jun…” His voice wavers and cracks, as if he were on the brink of tears. “Don’t make me talk about it. Please.”
Jun clenches his fists, nails digging deep into his palms. The raven’s suffering echoes in his own expression, as if he too feels his pain. “...my apologies. I will not push you on this matter.”
Rin covers his single eye with his palm, keeping his head lowered. The silent shaking of his shoulders is the only response Jun receives.
***
That night, Rin dreams of a woman standing over his bed.
Her long, wispy hair tickles his face as she stares down at him. Her face is soaked in shadows, but he can feel her smiling. Cold hands caress his face. Linger upon his wounds.
He knows it’s not Dasom, though for a fleeting moment he thinks it's her. Maybe even hopes.
This woman is too alien. Her aura is unfamiliar. Her smile, however, reminds him of the little lord’s. A generous mouth with a dimple as emphasis.
When he wakes with the dawn, his robes are soaked through with sweat. His pain is the worst kind. Sudden and shattering, leaving him no time to breathe.
He loses control.
