Chapter Text
This was how the Parks found their way in the middle of the arctic.
Within the snow-covered forests of Siberia dwells the Nenet reindeer herders and every spring, they would hold a small ceremony. Right before they leave their winter quarters sheltered in the taiga, they thank the trees for their protection and for the wood they have provided to use in their fires, tents and sledges.
They boil reindeer broth to share among each other and as offering to the forest to show their gratitude. When the smoke from the fire reached above the trees, it meant that the spirits were giving them permission to leave, and also a sign that they were welcomed to stay in the forest again next spring.
They were one of the few arctic tribes that still practiced such respect in nature, and who believed that there were things much bigger than what the eye sees. In a world where things change at unthinkable speed, these people stayed true to who they are, just as their ancestors did.
The Korea Polar Research Institute assigned their brightest researchers to a new project centered on the understanding of the Siberian nomadic culture. As the tribes were highly wary of outsiders, they only agreed to host two people to come with their travels and observe their way of living. Armed in thick layers of clothes and fearless enthusiasm, the Parks braved one of the coldest seasons in the world.
And so, it was in the middle of winter, on the eighth moon of the twelfth month, when a snow-kissed boy was welcomed by the tundra’s starry sky.
Mrs. Park didn’t know she was pregnant until a month into the journey and while her husband persuaded her to cut the trip short, she stayed relentless, like only a true pursuer of the knowledge would be. This was an opportunity that was so rare to come that not even the biting dangers of the ice could convince her to turn back.
This should have been their first warning.
The baby was delivered by the hands of a strong woman they call Vyka, mumbling soft words as she gently wrapped the infant in a bundle of cloth and put him in the arms of his tired mother. There was a blizzard raging outside but the emotions inside that tent were easily a hundred times thicker.
The couple had grown familiar with the Nenets and were loved not just for their sincerity, but also for the unexpected friendship they brought, and now their child is loved just as much, blessed and adored even by the few elders who have not seen such a lovely child born in many years. And beautiful the child was, like ice on the verge of falling.
His parents knew it was not the way to properly raise a child and furthermore, the expedition was almost coming to an end. Close to traveling for one and a half year, living with their short-term family had brought them more than just knowledge, but also of memories, camaraderie and so many stories to tell.
When the weather calmed down, the tribe had decided to move to keep up with their herd. They packed camp and rode their sledges, traveled all day out in the open tundra. When the sun began to set, they made camp. Men and women alike helped to erect a giant triangular structure made of wooden poles. Experienced hands covered it with layers of pelts and animal fur, creating a tent warm enough to withstand the cold.
Mrs. Park was genuinely regretful that she could not help, especially after having just birthed her first child. That thought sparked a certain memory and brought a wistful smile to her face.
Admittedly, while they were eager to take the opportunity, the she and her husband weren’t exactly looking forward to living in the wild for more than a year, but after months of staying with the Nenets, they now hold nothing but utmost respect for them.
Reindeer herding is the last of its kind and these people are the very guardians of this tradition. Every year, they would travel over a thousand kilometers, moving gigantic herds of reindeer from summer pastures in the north of Siberia to winter pastures just south of the arctic circle. In such a challenging environment where temperature could easily plummet to minus degrees, and where crossing one of the world’s biggest frozen rivers is just part of their daily lives, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more unified community with such regimented work ethic. When she found out she was expecting, she didn’t need to worry. She trusted these people, their friends, enough to take care of her and her little family.
One of the dogs that traveled with the tribe, a black shepherd with droopy ears, approached where she sat and nudged the bundle of cloth in her arms. The baby made a soft babble at the movement, chubby cheeks rosy from the cold but his lips were tilted up in an almost smile. At the sight, her heart suddenly filled with a wave of fondness and she distracted herself by petting the dog before she could start crying.
“This is Sunghoon, Yaksha. Park. Sung-hoon,” she told the dog in her native tongue, voice light and fond. The dog titled its head and wagged its tail.
“Isn’t he pretty? My little snowflake.”
She laughed in surprise when the dog barked, as if to answer her. The sound caught the attention of her husband, who in turn, melted at the scene. He looked at his wife and he just. Loves her. There wasn’t even a reason anymore. It had always been like that.
He walked closer, kissed the top of her head and then their son’s. He thought one of these days, he would just drown with the amount of adoration he feels for them. He asked her if she was cold and told her that the tent is almost done so that she and Sunghoon could go inside to rest.
As most nights go, this should have been an uneventful one. They’ve experienced many storms before and they could survive one more. What they didn’t account for, perhaps in a moment of pure bliss that was so contagious you can feel the celebratory cheer spread throughout the tribe after Sunghoon’s birth, was the hunger lurking in the darkest corners of the wild.
And just like that, as swift as happiness arrived, it was gone.
“I swear to god, Park Jongseong! If I die here, I’m going to fucking kill you!!”
Instead of an answer, Sunoo is met with tinkling laughter. This made his frown deepen even more and he really feel like bolting a rock at his friend’s head just to see if it’s as empty as his stupid face suggests.
“I’m not kidding, hyung. Don’t test me.”
“Okay! Okay!” Jay puts his hand up in mock surrender, voice clearly unapologetic, “God, you’re so dramatic—” he then quickly ducks to protect his head when Sunoo actually picks up a rock out of nowhere, aiming to throw it at him.
“Guys, can we please calm down…”
In the midst of the bickering is what seems to be the voice of reason, and most of the time, Jake is. But being reasonable doesn’t guarantee that your friends will listen to you.
Jake sighs, his friends’ incessant squabble is white noise at the back as he examines their surroundings one more time. All around them is just an endless abyss of snow. And as if that isn’t bad enough, they only have a couple of hours left before the sun completely goes down.
Along with our hopes and dreams, he mourns.
To be honest, Sunoo’s reaction isn’t even an exaggeration. He’d seen enough episodes of Buzzfeed Unsolved to know that they can actually die here, but Jake isn’t going to say that out loud. One person panicking is more than enough.
“I’m gonna bury you here, Jay-hyung. I swear to god!” Sunoo stomps at the snowy ground and makes a move to hit his friend again. He’s not sure if this rising temper is born out of frustration or if this is his self-preservation instincts finally kicking in since they’ve been wandering around for hours in the cold with no other signs of life in sight. The ominous howls they’ve been hearing lately sound very close though, so go figure. Sunoo shudders at the thought of what that means.
“Go snowboarding in Siberia for an out of the world experience, they said. It would be fun, they said.” He shoots his hyung another glare. “I never should have trusted you!”
Jay shrugs. “First of all, this is an out of the world experience, where else can you experience this, like ever? And second—CAN YOU PLEASE STOP HITTING ME? FOR FUCK’S SAKE SUNOO!”
“MAYBE IF YOU QUIT SAYING DUMB SHIT, I WILL!”
Jake wonders if he falls into a cliff, will they even notice he’s gone?
As if on cue, the sound of a long howl is heard once more and they all stiffen at the realization that the noise has not only grown familiar to them, but it also sounds a lot closer than before.
Jay won’t admit this out loud but he’s freaking out. The travel agency they hired is supposed to pick them up two hours ago. He continues to push Sunoo’s buttons because he knows the younger will start full-on panicking if he doesn’t have anything to distract his nerves with. And frankly, Jay would rather face Sunoo’s wrath than face whatever reality has to offer right now.
“I don’t care, let's light up the emergency flares now, what if they’ve been looking for us all this time? This will help them find us!” Jay wills himself to calm but the crack in his voice betrays him.
Sunoo doesn’t even bother teasing him about it. “Yeah? Well, whatever that was will find us too!” He counters, almost hysterically, “and it will find us faster!!”
“Let’s just vote. Jake?” Both look at their friend who’s been quiet the entire time, but Jake wasn’t even listening to them. He’s looking past them, eyes uncharacteristically wide. An icy dread seeps fast in Jay’s and Sunoo’s hearts as they both turn.
A curtain of silence falls into place and it's the kind Sunoo hates the most. You know that feeling when you ride a roller coaster and you’re about to take the steepest drop? That out of the body experience lurching at the pits of your stomach? Yeah, that.
“Uh… maybe. Just maybe. We should use the flare as a weapon instead,” Jay drawls, eyeing the big, how the hell is that thing SO BIG, grey wolf standing a few meters away, foreboding like the grim reaper himself has come to fetch them.
His friends would have applauded him for even having the audacity to crack a joke in a time like this but they’re both too stunned. The animal hasn’t approached them yet, which is good, because Jay is sure as hell that he won’t be able to aim or light the flare with how much his hands are shaking.
The wolf is definitely looking at them now though.
“Shitshitshitshitshit,” Sunoo hisses.
Jake finally snaps out of his stupor and looks at the both of them. His voice is strained but determined when he says “L-let’s not panic. Sunoo, hyung is here, okay?” He tries for a smile but it’s hard, “Grab your snowboard. That’s the only way we can defend ourselves right now.” Sunoo gulps and nods, unsure but doing as told. Jake doesn’t miss the way his friend is trembling and he positions himself in front of the younger.
He turns to Jay. “Listen to me, Jongseong.” Even with the panic slowly rising out of him, this made Jay instantly focus on his friend. After all, the last time Jake had called him that name was when they found out that some bullies from their school had been taking Sunoo’s lunch money.
“Wait for my signal and light the flare.” They hold each other’s gaze before Jay finally nods, both of them feeling an immense sense of duty wash over them.
Jake grips his own board and holds it in front of him like a shield. He observes the wolf in front of them and tries to think. Boy scouts taught him to not make any rash movements in front of a predator. But to be perfectly honest, that doesn’t make this any easier. They’d be lucky to even survive this.
“On the count of three.”
Jake takes a deep breath and braces himself.
“One, two… three!”
The flare lights up and ascends to the sky, releasing a bright trail of red smoke. The wolf gets startled by the sound and starts moving forward. One moment it's slow and then in a flash, it charges so fast that Jake didn’t even get to process what happened when a heavy weight slams into his body. He immediately falls to the ground, the force sucking the air out of him.
Sunoo knows they’re gonna die right here.
The moment the wolf pounced on Jake, he thinks this is it.
Ironically, it’s in heart-stopping moments that courage shows its life-changing powers. Sunoo’s father have always told him that he’s spontaneous to a fault, so in a split-second of extremely foolish bravery, while thinking about his friend who’s about to get eaten alive in front of them, Sunoo’s body moves on its own.
“Hyung!” He runs and hits the wolf with his snowboard with all the strength he can muster. It’s dumb and he feels dumb, but he must have hit somewhere painful because the wolf jumps back and holy shit, there’s blood on the snow. He hears Jake groan in pain but the relief of knowing he’s still alive is short lived.
“Sunoo! Run!” Jay shouts at him frantically, and only then Sunoo realized that when he hit the wolf, he also flung his snowboard with it, making his very fragile and very human body even more defenseless. He feels a hand shove him back hard before Jay is suddenly in front of him. The wolf looks properly mad now, mouth snarling with anger. It lets out a terrible growl, displaying a full set of sharp fangs.
“For once, listen to me, Sunoo!” Another shove. “Run!”
Sunoo's mind promptly goes into tunnel-vision and he sprints mindlessly. He hears Jake’s voice and then Jay’s but he can’t make out what they’re saying, his ears feel like they’re submerged underwater.
He runs and runs and runs until the only thing he’s conscious of is the sharp bite of cold wind whipping past his face. Blood pounded on his ears. His legs begin to burn with strain as the adrenaline finally wears out, leaving him breathless. After what seemed like forever, he collapses on the ground, lungs heaving in exhaustion. The air is thin and he’s freezing.
Sunoo feels so worn out. He wants to cry. He wants to sleep. He wants to see Jay and Jake. He wants to go home.
Desperation fills his head until the fatigue eventually forces his body to shut down. At the edge of his consciousness, he thinks he saw a white creature approach him.
Strangely enough, the calm knocking of its steps on the snow drowns out the noisy, depressing thoughts in his head. He knows that he should probably get up and escape. Or die trying. His friends didn’t sacrifice their safety just for him to get killed too. But there’s already something ugly festering in the corners of Sunoo’s mind, and it’s more than just his body that feels tired and heavy.
So he closes his eyes, as well as his heart, and lets the darkness take him.
The next time Sunoo wakes up, it’s to a warm bed with thick blankets wrapped around his body. He snuggles deeper into the cocoon of comfort he’s under and sincerely thinks that he can stay like this forever.
True to his words, he did stay like that for several more minutes (maybe hours, it’s hard to tell), before he finally sits up. He squints at the dimness of the room, his eyes not yet used to its surroundings.
The first thing he notices is that there’s a dog sleeping by his feet, as if to steal some warmth from his blankets. He spots a wood-burning stove in the middle of the room with pots and a kettle on top of it. The room smells like tea and wood and Sunoo briefly wonders if he is in a studio set because this is something he can see in Lord of the Rings.
Curious, Sunoo looks up and sees that he’s actually inside of a tent. One that can fit maybe three to five people. There are several pelts of different textures strewn around the room and thick outerwear made of animal fur are hanging from the beams, some even look like they've just been hung haphazardly in a hurry. One of the coats caught his attention though, because it looks very familiar. A creamy white hide, like wolf fur.
Wolf fur.
Wolf.
Everything hits Sunoo like a truck and he almost slips as he scrambles to stand.
Jake-hyung! Jay-hyung!
He feels his legs wobble in pain before his knees give out and he falls onto the futon. Just then, someone walks into the tent. She looks foreign and stares at Sunoo like she can’t decide whether to talk to him or not. She says something but Sunoo can’t understand her words. The woman seems to catch onto this and leaves the room in a hurry. He hears voices talking outside before a new person comes in. He is tall and like the woman before, he is clad in thick winter wear. The hood is shadowing most of his face, but puffs of cold air are visible as he breathes.
He sees Sunoo struggling to stand and walks closer. But instead of helping him, the person guides him back to bed, cradling his head carefully and laying it down on the pillow. He then says words in that same foreign language and Sunoo just wants to know what the hell is happening and where he is.
The person is still speaking when Sunoo cuts him off, “W-where am I? Please, I need to see my friends,” he says desperately, voice coarse. His mind is still reeling from the memory of the attack.
The man tilts his head after hearing Sunoo speak, and his eyes went wide like he’s seeing him for the first time. He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates.
“I have to go,” Sunoo cuts him with more edge to his voice than necessary and even though his legs are still burning, he attempts to stand again.
The gravity of the situation makes his throat clam up, but he doesn’t cry. Not yet.
His limbs hurt and he thinks there's a cut below his right eye that hasn’t stopped throbbing. Before he can move though, there is a hand on his chest, just above his heart, that lightly pushes him down. He looks up at the man— a boy, really, and finally sees their face.
If Sunoo isn’t having a mental breakdown right now, he would have appreciated how striking this newcomer looks more. He has the strongest set of eyebrows Sunoo has ever seen, a short fringe falling over his forehead to frame a pale, smooth face. There’s a distinct mole on the bridge of his nose too, along with eyes that seem to carry a certain wildness in them, and even with a frown on his lips, and in the low light of the tent, he looks surreal. He’s very pretty, in a strange sort of way. You don’t notice it at first, dressed in bulky coats and boots, then you do all at once and it’s hard to look away.
“Drink,” the boy tells him, and it took a moment for Sunoo to catch on to the fact that he can finally understand him. He holds a cup of water to him, his other hand supporting Sunoo’s head. Sunoo doesn’t realize how thirsty he was until the cup touches his lips. The water is gone in an instant. The boy fills it up again and Sunoo drinks just a fast. He doesn’t even notice that the second cup has a calming tonic mixed in it.
“You. Need rest,” he eventually says to Sunoo, voice hush in the silence. The fire in the middle of the room crackles and casts soft shadows on the walls. He watches it, temporarily forgetting what it was that he was trying to do. The other boy stays there watching him as Sunoo’s thoughts get more muddled. Slowly, he feels the aching of his bones ebb away, simply leaving him tired and sleepy.
“You’re safe. Help. I help,” tThe boy continues, but his Korean is heavily accented and comes in staccato.
Sunoo feels a hand caressing his hair, gently pulling him back to sleep. And for the second time that day, Sunoo lets it.
Sunoo decides that the thing about nearly dying is you realize the scary things always happen when you’re awake than when you’re not.
He’s woken up by a strange sound and the moment he opens his eyes, he is met with pitch black darkness. The noise grows louder, like hundreds of hooves stepping all at once, the ground vibrating with the constant movement. He hears dogs barking and growling, unfamiliar voices overlapping— and well, those things are enough to make him rush out of the tent in a hurry, stumbling as he runs towards the sliver of light which he hopes is the exit.
Cold gust of wind meets him when he pushes aside the cover, but the scene before him is what made Sunoo stop on his tracks and think that he’s been transported to an alternate universe after all.
It’s early in the morning, the sun just about to shyly peek out of the clouds. Herds of reindeer are running across the snowy fields while several dogs are shepherding them from the sides, barking when a stray comes close to the edge of the formation. Men in coats are holding ropes, some tying it on reindeers and some forming some sort of barricade around the herd to keep them in place. From where he stands, he can see a few people busy erecting tents, carrying heaps of pelt and long wooden poles, unloading them systematically off sledges. There are a few kids tottering around, bundled up in layers of clothes so thick they look like baby ducks waddling in the snow.
Sunoo is fascinated and very confused, and maybe a little scared that he jumps out of his skin when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns and it’s the same boy from before, but now he is wearing the white coat that he vaguely remembers hanging inside the tent, the fluffy hood of it encasing his small face elegantly like some cinematic halo. He looks even more unreal in daylight. Not a fever dream then. Sunoo mentally chastises himself at the thought, now’s not really the time to daydream, Kim Sunoo.
“Uh,” he starts slowly. He clears his throat and tries again, “I am very.... wait. No. I know this is gonna sound weird...” He shakes his head. “…sorry, where are we?” And then just for good measure since he watched too many movies, “What year is it?”
The other simply raises an eyebrow at him, and if Sunoo had only looked closer, he wouldn’t have missed the minuscule tilt at the corner of the boy’s lips before it’s gone.
“You. Talk a lot,” he says, still with stilted Korean.
Sunoo is dumbfounded. “Did you just call me noisy?”
“Come,” the boy tells him instead and starts walking. Having no other choice, Sunoo trudges after him. Even now, he feels like his head is up in the clouds.
He belatedly notices that he’s still wearing his own clothes though, a bright yellow padding with chick patterns that Jay gave him as a gag gift, thinking that Sunoo would despise it. Jake told Jay he’s an idiot as Sunoo squeals in delight, hugging the said gift with stars in his eyes. The memory of his friends instantly sours Sunoo’s mood and he’s reminded once again of the situation he’s in. Tears start prickling at the corner of his eyes, but he hardens his resolve, not wanting to think of the worst.
They will see each other again. They have to.
As the muscles in his legs remain sore, he follows the taller boy in a slow pace. He doesn’t remember much aside from running a lot, or how far he actually managed to travel with his body functioning on pure adrenaline, especially while wearing this heavy padding and with snow on the ground. His guess is he got far, or he got lucky, seeing as he is still alive.
The boy notices Sunoo’s little steps and makes his strides shorter until the other can catch up to him. It’s hard not to spot the hastily wiped eyes and the troubled furrow of his brows, but he says nothing and pretends not to see any of it.
He stops in front of a vacant sled, not far from the bustling activities of the camp but quiet enough for a conversation. He dusts off the snow from the seat before motioning for Sunoo to sit down.
Sunoo is bewildered at the gesture, but the soreness in his legs is incessantly throbbing so he eventually sits. Some people look at them curiously but don't approach, going back to their tasks when the taller of the two glances at them.
Sunoo plays with his gloves until the other boy speaks. “My name,” he says, then he taps his chest. “Sunghoon.”
Sunoo looks up at him. So, he really is Korean. “Ah. It’s nice to meet you.” He copies Sunghoon’s gesture and taps his chest too. “I’m Sunoo.”
There’s a lag in the conversation and Sunoo wonders if he should say something. He's aware that he speaks a lot especially when he’s nervous and he’s not really in the mood to be called noisy again. For some reason, he has an inkling that the boy isn’t fluent.
Sunoo isn’t dumb. He knows it’s strange that there’s a singular Korean boy out here in the middle of the arctic, a local, it would seem, in all aspects except physical. Sunghoon might be dressed like them, acts and lives as they do but he stands out like a sore thumb. Curious Sunoo may be, but he’s not going to stick his nose in other people’s business.
“Found you. Alone,” Sunghoon starts, “lost,” and then pauses, like he’s looking for the right words. “Took you back. Here. Home.”
Sunoo blinks at him then nods in understanding. “Thank you.” And he means it. “So much. I don’t— if it wasn’t for you, I won’t even be here,” he shoots Sunghoon a look, gauging his reaction and repeats his question from earlier. “Uhm… where are we?”
“Home.” Sunoo waits for him to continue but it seems like the only answer the boy will offer.
“Ah yes, of course," he prods patiently, "this is your home. But where exactly?”
“...North. Siberia.”
Sunoo inwardly grimaces at the words, but he thinks that this boy has little reason to lie to him, so he schools his face into an amenable expression. Maybe this is the north of Siberia and with nothing but a few mountains and an endless field of snow around them, Sunoo will have no way of knowing. It’s not like in Korea where you can just say That purple cafe in Gangnam or something. Maybe it's like latitude and longitude addresses in here? What does he know? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
He sighs, already thinking about how he needs to reach a town where he can have access to a phone, or a signal at least, because his own one is dead. If he stays here any longer, his family will be worried, his parents never allowing him out of the house ever again. Not to mention, he has to let Jay’s and Jake’s family know if they are— nope. He’s not going down that tangent.
“Well. How do I say this?” His legs bounce unconsciously, up down up down, an annoying nervous habit. “You can probably tell I’m not from around here. And I really,” He clenches his fists, “I would like to go home.” His voice is meek against their surroundings, desperation lacing in his tone. “…I need your help. Please.”
Sunghoon’s eyes hold his and he fights the urge to look down. Sunoo doesn’t know why he’s waiting with bated breath. It doesn’t help that the boy’s gaze is so piercing because he suddenly feels like he’s being scrutinized. Which doesn’t make sense. They barely know each other, and he has a legitimate reason to ask for help. He’s stranded here and from the looks of it, Sunghoon is the only one who can understand him. Literally.
“We’re. Reindeer herders. Our job is. To take reindeers south,” Sunghoon starts after a while and Sunoo perks up in attention, opting to look calm even if the rigid lines of his shoulder are so painfully tense.
“We travel. Moving every five days.” He nods along to show that he follows.
“Ten nights away. We reach town. We get supplies.” Sunoo’s face morphs in what could only be described as hopeful, a campfire lit in the middle of the night. “There. You...” Sunghoon attempts to pronounce his name, “S-sun. Woo.” His eyebrows furrowing in serious concentration which shouldn’t have been endearing at all. “Sunoo. You can stay there. It’s better. Town people can help you.”
Some of the dread dissipates and Sunoo’s heart feels like it's about to leap out of his chest.
“Oh my god. Okay, okay.” He starts jumping around then, unable to stop himself. “Ten days. I can do that. Holy shit. I can go home.” The immense relief just started spreading throughout his entire body and he feels lightheaded. He thinks this is the happiest he’d been in a while. He hugs Sunghoon in a fit of excitement while the other is left with no choice but to awkwardly pat him on the back.
Sunoo breaks the hug, but his arms are still resting on the other’s sides. Since their clothes are so bulky, his hands don't even reach around. He looks up at Sunghoon and when sees his stunned expression, he isn’t able to stop the bubbling laughter that spills out of his mouth. Not meanly of course. Never meanly. He just thinks how unbelievable everything has been up until now. Like he’s in a movie or something. Like this is some cheap YA novel and Sunghoon is one of the side characters that got caught up in all the craziness. And in a way, he is, isn’t he? The thought just made Sunoo laugh even harder he actually tears up.
Sunghoon sputters What? and tries to check if Sunoo is hurt anywhere. Maybe he did hit his head before he found him.
But Sunoo just laughs and laughs and laughs. He laughed harder even when one of the dogs went near them and barked at the noise. Even when more than a handful of people started whispering and Sunghoon’s ears burned in embarrassment, Sunoo laughs.
He can go home and for now, nothing else matters.
Words travel fast and many people in the tribe are understandably wary of Sunoo, although they try not to show it. Afterall, they can tell that the boy in yellow and Sunghoon came from the same place. Aside from Sunghoon, Vyka is the one who can speak that language. It’s not hard to put two and two together.
When Sunghoon came back from the forest that day, not with firewood but an unconscious boy on his back, Vyka’s heart broke at the sight. He looks so much like his father did when he was carrying Sunghoon’s mother on his back that fateful night eighteen years ago.
He didn’t understand why Vyka cried but he thinks it’s because she’s always been soft-hearted. She helped him get Sunoo inside their tent and tended to him. He only has a cut on his cheek, perhaps caught from the branches when he was running away from… whatever it was he escaped from. The tundra holds so many secrets and he know better than to pry. The boy wasn’t seriously hurt but he was clearly exhausted. He slept for almost an entire day and didn’t even stir awake when they moved camp. Sunoo laid on one of the sledges pulled by reindeers, cushioned in pelts and blankets as Sunghoon watched over him like a silent sentry.
It’s the first time Sunghoon met someone different, so he is naturally interested in him. Maybe because he is different too. No matter what Vyka says, he knows. No one in here ever made him feel alienated but as he grew up, he started to understand why his face looks different from the others or why he doesn't have a father and a mother.
When Sunoo woke up and asked, “Where am I?” in Korean, Sunghoon understood him. And Sunoo, like a miracle he never expected, understood his words back. This language that no one else can speak here aside from Vyka, that she strived to teach him even though she knows little about it herself. Telling him that this is one of the very few connections you have with them, I don’t want you to lose it too, pouring over notes his parents left behind, books with strange symbols of circles and squares. He learned through stories of his mother teaching Vyka basic words in Korean and in return, she would teach her Uralic. She speaks of his parents so fondly and sometimes; he feels sadder for her than for himself.
The most memorable part of Sunghoon’s childhood was not the first time he took part in the ceremony of eating raw reindeer meat, or when he was finally allowed to drive a sledge, it was of Vyka giving him an old leather journal and told him it was his mother’s diary. He remembers feeling so happy and not letting go of it for days. He can barely read it today, but he treasures it all the same. It’s not just Vyka who knows his parents, some people in the tribe do as well- mostly the elders, but they just frowned and shook their heads when he asked for stories, giving him a sad smile.
Eventually, he stopped asking.
So, when this boy, who wears the brightest clothes he has ever seen in his life, held a conversation with him in his late parents’ language, he felt a familiar spark in his heart, something akin to when he received that diary. And the feeling just grows the more he talks to him. Sunoo speaks fast and uses many words; some he can’t even understand but it was more than enough. This is a person who is like him and Sunghoon, for the first time in many years, feels found.
“We’ll move again. In four days,” he tells Sunoo who’s been stuck to his side for most part of the day, afraid to venture out by himself. He pets dogs and coos at some of the toddlers, but he never voluntarily approaches others. He explained the situation to Vyka and she relayed the message to everyone. Some greeted them and threw Sunoo curious looks. All the boy did was politely nod and tried to hide behind Sunghoon. But with his yellow padding, it’s quite hard to miss him.
“You. Want to change?” Sunghoon gestures at his clothes.
It was not his intention to make the boy self-conscious but he supposes it’s inevitable. Maybe the change will allow him to feel less... foreign.
Although Sunoo seems fine, he sometimes looks troubled. His gaze is distant when he thinks no one is looking. But Sunghoon has been watching. There is clearly something else in his mind.
He has only been awake for a few hours but Sunghoon has already seen a myriad of emotions cross his face in that short amount of time. Every pinch of his brows and line of his mouth, or even the way his eyes shine with child-like wonder, have always been big gestures for him who’s used to solitude and the quiet companionship that the tribe shares. He noticed it first when he found the boy at the edge of the forest. He was barely conscious but his face showed so much remorse that Sunghoon thought he was seriously injured.
He wanted to see if there were other survivors that night but between taking Sunoo back and venturing farther away, it was obvious which one is the smarter choice. The boy wouldn’t have survived the cold otherwise.
Sunghoon lent him one of his own clothes, a fur coat similar to what he is wearing, only the color is more grey than white. Vyka made it for him some winters ago for his fifteenth birthday, but he grew much taller than expected so he hasn’t worn it ever since. Its length fits Sunoo just nicely now and he hums in appreciation when the boy comes out of the tent.
“It’s warm,” the other comments, swinging his arms lightly to test the fit, looking like a little penguin. “Now we match!” He exclaims, and Sunghoon can’t help but feel a tiny bit fond. Despite his earlier observations, Sunoo’s excitement feels genuine enough for now.
He has a few errands to run and can’t really spend all day hanging around with Sunoo; however, the other boy is reluctant to be apart from him. He doesn’t say it but the worried look on his face clearly states that he won’t appreciate being left alone.
They walk farther away from the camp to gather fresh snow, he explains to Sunoo that they melt it for drinking. Sunoo tags along and Sunghoon finds that he doesn't particularly mind the company.
“So,” Sunoo starts, their boots leaving prints on the snow. “How old are you?”
Sunghoon doesn’t answer right away, absent-mindedly pulling the small sled he brought with them. “Nine. Teen,” he tells him, eventually.
Sunoo is starting to get used to Sunghoon’s way of speaking too. Although it was confusing at first, he just learned to read between the lines. It’s not that different from when his Japanese friend, Ni-ki, just started learning Korean.
“Nineteen, huh? You’re older than I am then! Only by a year though.” He chuckles. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
The look Sunghoon throws at him is unreadable.
“What?” he challenges, “You just act so mature.” He kicks a patch of snow as they walk. “I know we haven't known each other for long but you took care of me, still taking care of me by the way, and I don’t know. I just feel like I can trust you?” It’s sweet. Sunoo is sweet just like that. Not a single mean bone in his body.
Sunghoon shrugs, stopping for a while to check if the snow here is good enough. He decides not yet and trudges on forward. “Saved you. Of course trust me.”
But the younger is quick to disagree, “I don’t think that’s it. You’re just a nice person, so I like you.”
As he has said before, Sunoo is like a myriad of expressions, his heart freely worn on his sleeves and Sunghoon almost envies him for it.
“You’re. Nice too,” he replies instead, not really knowing how to respond when faced with such sincerity.
Sunoo beams. “Can I call you hyung, then? Sunghoon-hyung?”
“H...yeong?”
“Hee-young,” Sunoo pronounces slowly, “Hyung. It means older brother.”
Sunghoon mouths the word repeatedly, as if trying to feel what it's like to say it. Sunoo lets him. He’s starting to get used to this too. To the older absorbing information like a sponge with every chance he gets. It’s quite humbling, actually. How the knowledge Sunoo often takes for granted is so precious to others.
Eventually Sunghoon nods, more to himself than anything, but there’s still a question on the tip of his tongue, “Sunoo, what to call you?”
“Hm? Oh, me? You can just call me Sunoo. Or Sunoo-yah if you want...” It’s like a switch has been flipped and there’s suddenly a mischievous glint in Sunoo’s eyes when he bounces closer to the older, battling his eyelashes comically at him, “That will sound like we’re a lot closer, Sunghoon-hyungie~ ” he teases sweetly.
And maybe it’s because Sunghoon is the only one Sunoo can talk to here, but whatever the reason is, he realizes pretty quickly that Sunoo is good at being naturally likable. Or perhaps he can tell that he is interested in him, so Sunoo sticks to him like gum.
Sunghoon presses his lips into a thin line at the thought, looking like he’s about to say something but eventually abandons the idea.
The younger didn’t know that Sunghoon had any ounce of sass in him until he pretended to not hear Sunoo and walked faster instead, conveniently leaving the other behind.
“Hey!” He puffs his cheeks before matching the taller boy’s pace.
But then, “Hurry. Sunoo-yah.”
He almost falls at the way Sunghoon suddenly says it, mirth swimming in his eyes when he sees the younger tripping over his legs.
“Sunoo-yah,” he repeats softer yet clear as a bell, and Sunoo’s heart definitely didn’t stumble. Karma already?, he thinks sulky. This is why he avoids pretty people. He debates dunking his head in the snow just to hide the red blooming on his face. He glares back instead.
In time, they reach a clearing with snow Sunghoon deems clean enough. He takes the shovel slung from his shoulder and starts filling the huge tub that sat on the sledge. His hands work skillfully, experienced with the task after having done it so many times.
Sunoo watches as he works and allows himself to admire the other a little.
He’s aware that he mostly grew up comfortably, his parents not sparing resources to provide him with anything he might need. Who even goes to the actual arctic during their school break just to ski because they feel like it? He won’t say he’s crazily spoiled but he definitely didn’t have to worry much about his future either. But by being stranded in this place wherein survival depends on working together, it dawns on him that he’s been living in a bubble all this time.
He may not be aware of it but that discovery has already planted a seed of change in Sunoo’s mind, one that he doesn’t know how to grow yet.
Sunoo thought he’d be interrogated at some point, what with being an outsider and a foreigner on top of that. That’s why he stuck with the Sunghoon most of the time, avoiding others and going as far as assisting him with his chores just to have a reason to stay near him. The older claims it’s good practice for him too— speaking with each other in Korean, so they spent most of their days conversing about mundane topics, from little snippets of what is Seoul like to Sunghoon even teaching him how to properly use an ax.
“Maybe. You can use it someday. To protect yourself. When I’m. Not around,” the older explains to him.
He’s really more perceptive than Sunoo gave him credit for. The boy knew there’s a reason why he ended up in the forest alone. This is him indirectly telling the younger that he doesn’t mind if he chooses not to tell him, that he will understand nonetheless. He’s mostly grateful for the concern but remembering how defenseless he’d been the last time his life was in danger made Sunoo freeze and he grips the ax handle tighter.
If Sunghoon noticed the tension, well, nobody has to know.
“Sunoo should. Meet Vyka,” he tells him when they walk back. “She’s. Ah…. good listener. Talking. Can help you.”
“Hm?” Sunoo spares him a distracted glance as he focuses on dragging the other side of sledge against the snow. After the first time, he decides to accompany Sunghoon every morning to gather snow and today is no different. They managed to fill the entire tub with snow and are now taking it back to the camp. He still can’t believe it could be this heavy. “Okay? I’m good though.” There’s only a minuscule shift in his expression, but Sunghoon sees it all the same.
Sunoo thinks he hears the older sigh but he’s too busy trying not to trip again, especially not after he pestered Sunghoon long enough to please let me help.
When Vyka finally introduces herself to Sunoo, the three of them are sitting inside the tent he woke up from before. He vaguely remembers her as the woman he saw on his first day, the one that called Sunghoon.
Sunghoon has told bits and pieces about her. He mentioned that she raised him, and has been a constant presence in his life for as long as he can remember. She is like a parent but is also a friend, and many times like a teacher. And Sunoo sees that the affection is mutual. The woman clearly dotes on Sunghoon, and it’s very easy to overlook that they are not related by blood.
She wasn’t able to properly meet Sunoo yet, only catching glimpses of him here and there, but perhaps that’s mainly because it was his intention to avoid everyone in the first place. He even opts to sleep very early so he wouldn't have to meet her yet since they are all staying in the same tent.
He knows Sunghoon had noticed but he also never questioned him why or didn’t try to get him to interact with the others, going as far as talking for him when a few people were bold enough to push, which Sunoo is extremely grateful for.
Vyka, however, is polite to him and kind, she gave him space to adjust and is so considerate just like her son, that he feels bad for not even explaining how he ended up here. He genuinely thinks he owes them the truth now though, especially after they have saved him and let him stay.
He fidgets in his seat, biting his lips in anxiously. “You must have a lot of questions,” he starts thinly and his breathing feels too loud in the quiet.
Vyka merely shares a look with Sunghoon, an entire conversation happens without them speaking and eventually, Sunghoon shrugs.
“Only if. Sunoo is comfortable,” she says, her accent is thicker than Sunghoon’s but her voice is so mellow that he almost didn't hear her, as if she’s afraid he will run at the slightest inconvenience. And somehow, this gesture solidifies his resolution to do this even more. So he braces himself mentally, his knuckles turning white on his lap.
Sunghoon has been observing Sunoo the entire time so it’s inevitable when he notices the reluctance. In a bout of sudden confidence, he places his hand on top of Sunoo’s. The younger jumps at the contact but doesn’t retract his hand.
“Sunoo,” Sunghoon whispers, always kind. “Don’t be afraid.”
The tension slowly seeps out of the boy’s shoulders and his gaze decidedly settles at the fire burning between them. After what felt like hours, he finally finds his voice and tells them everything.
Sunoo can't quite remember how he got through it, just that he talked non-stop to the point that even his voice has started sounding foreign to his own ears. He recalls going on the trip, starting right from the very beginning and only leaving out small details that he doesn’t want to dwell on too long, like the distress in Jay’s voice when he told him to run, Jake’s muffled screams under the wolf or the bright red blood spreading fast across the paleness of the snow.
They listened to him patiently, never interrupting and freely allowed him to get it all out of his system. When all is said and done, he hates to admit it but his heart does feel lighter. It surprises him, honestly, how easy it had been once he’d gotten over the worst of his fears and opened his mouth.
Sunghoon never moved his hand away and held him in silent support, his touch a constant anchor when the memories swept him too far away from the present.
For what it's worth, Sunoo ends this with him bowing down on his knees, almost out of instinct since he’s not sure what the customs are here. “Thank you for allowing me to stay here. Sunghoon told me how you took care of me when I was unconscious.” He really hopes the sincerity is evident in his voice because he wants to thank her properly. “I wouldn’t have survived out there otherwise. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“No need,” Vyka assures him, still so pleasant. “Thank you for telling us.” There's a serene smile on her face when Sunoo raises his head, and ah, so that’s where Sunghoon got it from.
The hug came when Sunoo least expected it. She leans forward and wraps her arms around him, hooks his head above her shoulders and squeezes tight. He’s stunned for a while, eyes widening at the open affection. But she is warm and gentle and so much like a mother. It doesn't take much for him to break after that and he blames it on the storm inside of him that hasn’t stopped raging against the walls of his consciousness ever since he woke up in this strange, unfamiliar place.
The dam inside him finally cracks and he sobs against her. Ugly, fat tears roll down his cheek as he squeezes his eyes shut because everything feels too much. It’s been four days. He’s been doing well.
And yet—
He’d been wound up so tight all this time, a rubber band stretched too thin that he felt like he’s about to snap at any given moment. He distracted himself with anything just so he could stop thinking about his friends and the possibility of them being dead. Of not being able to go home. Of why he even listened to Jay and ran away. Of the guilt steadily eating him up.
Of surviving when it’s easier to not be the one left behind.
This is why he didn’t want to talk about it. Some truths are too big for words.
“It must have been hard.” She rubs his back like a child, as if she knows exactly what he’s thinking about. “It’s not your fault.”
There’s a rustle in the room as Sunghoon excused himself.
“I was so scared.” Sunoo cries harder, and for the first time since the incident, he allows himself the big gulping sobs that shattered Sunghoon’s heart to hear. Sunoo has been holding his breath all this time, he realizes. That it’s not just from tiredness, or sadness, anger or even pain. Finally, he can stop pretending to be okay. Finally, Sunoo can breath.
The morning after, Sunghoon unceremoniously drags Sunoo into the freezing cold to make a snowman of all things.There are worse ways to wake up and he can tell that the older is trying to cheer him up, the sentiment alone is so heartwarming that he just lets the older pull him out of bed.
It’s much easier to be himself after telling them what happened, to finally be able to make sense of things without the ugly shadow of guilt constantly crawling under his skin, thinking that everyone can see right through him, terrifying Sunoo of being judged or worse, blamed.
The feeling doesn’t completely go away, it’s still there lurking at the precipice of his mind, but it doesn’t hurt as much to smile now, it feels less fake, his burden easier to carry when it’s shared. He even decides to interact with other people, and what he lacked in vocabulary, he will make make up for it with wide gestures and enthusiasm. Despite the suddenness, he hopes the tribe will be understanding of the change.
“Ta-dah! This is you, hyung!” He presents the lump of snow to Sunghoon with dramatic flair, jazz hands gesturing lively to his masterpiece. It's obviously something, Sunghoon’s just not sure what exactly.
“That..." he observes with more focus than what’s probably necessary in a makeshift snow playground. There are thick twigs attached to it for eyebrows, which he assumes is his most defining feature, according to Sunoo anyway. However, the body is less so of a human’s but more like “... a penguin?”
If this is a quiz show, Sunoo would have hit a xylophone with Ding Dong Deng!
“Amazing!” He excitedly claps, “As expected, art acknowledges art.” He nods in satisfaction before moving on to Sunghoon’s work, his mouth already pouting in concentration trying to discern the object.
But Sunghoon was still stuck at the art acknowledges art and what it could possibly mean. Sunoo sometimes speaks in strange terms and Sunghoon’s limited vocabulary can hardly keep up.
“Wait… is this a fox?” Sunoo walks around the snow figure, eyes gleaming, “It is, isn’t it? A lot of people told me I look like one, you know.” Sunghoon did try to make an arctic fox because its features remind him of Sunoo’s but knowing that other people have repeatedly made the same comparison weirdly disappoints him.
Meanwhile, Sunoo wishes that he has his phone right now, because moments like this are meant to be captured, and not to mention, Sunghoon always looks like he came straight out of a magazine, definitely a loss to humanity if he can’t even immortalize that.
They play with snow some more, scribbling characters of hangul so he can casually teach his hyung this and that. The simplicity of the morning brings so much peace to Sunoo, especially after the spectacle last night that he now feels kind of embarrassed of. He cried so much that his entire face still feels puffy.
A cold gust of wind blows right between the two of them, carrying their hushed voices like children playing hide and seek. Sunoo ends up spread-eagle on the ground, staring at the wide expanse of grey above. Like this, the sky seems infinite. Endless, to a degree, in its ever-encompassing reach and Sunoo wonders why he never observed it this way before, especially when it can bring you so much calm just by looking at it. His lips are slightly chapped from the cold, but his cheeks are dotted with tiny blushes. Sunghoon sits beside him, mindful of the flurry of snow just starting to pour down. They shouldn’t stay out long.
A tiny snowflake lands on Sunoo’s nose and Sunghoon’s fingers twitch at the sudden urge to brush it away.
“You’re right, you know.” There’s almost an embarrassed tone in Sunoo’s voice when he says this. Like when you know a cup of tea is hot but still insisting to drink from it, only to end up with a burnt tongue. “The talking. It helped me. I don’t know how you knew I needed it.”
Their eyes lock and Sunoo wonders what the other saw that made him smile bittersweetly.
“My parents. I never met them,” Sunghoon casually starts before laying down next to him, their shoulders are slightly touching and even though it’s cold, there’s a phantom ghost of warmth in the gesture. Something like a budding trust. The first step of a long race. “And you know— you can see. I’m different. Here,” he confesses finally, and Sunoo can sense his hesitation, as if that’s the first time he admitted it out loud too.
“When I was younger. I didn’t understand. Was confused. Sad.” He pauses. “Lonely.”
“I have. Many questions. But Vyka told me. To say what I feel.” The shadows from the trees somehow look softer in this moment, a vulnerability they unknowingly carved to shape like them.
“Talking is hard. But suffering alone. I think. Harder.”
He then grins, reminiscing about being seven, then ten and then thirteen and still running away when the questions in his head get too loud. Vyka never failed to find him, starving after hours of hiding and with dried tear tracks on his cheeks that he wore proudly because at that age, it’s nothing but the greatest act of rebellion. He shares all of this to Sunoo, accented words slowly tumbling out of his mouth and steadily piling up like the snow falling around them.
It should have made him frustrated, having to use a language he is barely fluent in, rusty from the lack of use, like the stiff way new clothes feel when you haven’t worn them enough. But none of those matters since the younger’s eyes shine as he listens to him. Sunghoon pretends not to notice, but he basks at the attention anyway and wills his words to come out faster.
Sunoo stares at him the entire time, focused on a way that could be uncomfortable, but they both have experienced things worse than recollecting embarrassing stories, so the thought of letting someone see your heart, even for a little while, doesn’t sound too bad.
It’s a rare treat for Sunghoon, to let himself exist without baggage, without something to avoid and hide. In a way, Sunoo is similar to a blank canvas, he is free from all the strings that ties Sunghoon from this place— a boy from the opposite side of the world that seemed to exist in another time, from a country he can’t even begin to fathom living in, let alone think that must be where my parents came from.
And yet, as much as he believes Sunoo is different from him, he also has the closest link to his ancestry— the part of him that he spent the better half of his life trying to ignore.
Because really, what can he do? An orphan in the arctic. Vyka and the tribe are all that he has. He convinced himself that the less he knows, the less he will care.
Better to hide, better to lie. Better for things to stay exactly the same.
And even if he does step out of this place, out of his home, what guarantees that there’s something worthwhile waiting for him out there?
Comfort really is a double-edged sword.
“Your parents. You must think that they came from where I live, right?”
“...yes.”
“Did you ever wonder what kind of people they are?”
Sunghoon pauses. “Everyday.”
“Well, when do you want to visit then?”
“Visit?”
“Come to Korea, hyung.”
“...I can’t.
“Says who?” Sunoo sounds almost offended. “Of course, you can! I will even help you after...” His hand gestures vaguely in the air. “... all of this. I think it will be nice for you.”
“...”
“You don’t want to?’
“No. I… just...”
“It’s okay, I kinda get it.”
“Really?”
Sunoo turns to him then, “I want to go home but I’m also afraid. What if I never see my friends again? Or what if their families hate me now?” He smiles sadly, “Maybe we can be brave together.”
Sunghoon stares at him, wants to say that his friends are safe, but he can’t lie like that to him. Not after everything he’s been through. The younger speaks again before he can respond though.
“Ah I’m sorry, hyung. You don’t have to think about it now, okay?”
“...okay.”
“But what about Vyka? Does she know your parents?”
Sunghoon nods. “They are friends. My father. My mother.” He pauses. “She tells me stories. Only sometimes. It makes Vyka sad. So. I try. Not to ask.”
“That—” Sunoo grimaces and he would like to note that he didn’t whine. “...Sunghoon-hyung, you can’t possibly be serious.” He sits up to stare at Sunghoon incredulously. Whether it’s for height leverage or just so he can look down at the older to better emphasize a point— some weird powerplay Sunoo learned from his debate club, it’s hard to tell. “There’s no way people like you exist,” he wails, “You’re too nice!”
When the older merely raises that irritatingly perfect eyebrow at him, Sunoo sighs in defeat. “You’re like an actual cinnamon roll, I can’t even get mad at you.” The other stares at him with wide eyes, clearly clueless to the jargons but that’s okay. He plops back down on the ground in defeat, but not before shrugging snow off from the hood of his coat. He sees that there is also some snow gathered on his hyung’s and he doesn’t even hesitate to brush it away.
Sunghoon welcomes the way Sunoo rolls on his side to face him. Allows it even when the boy leans in too close to his space. It’s strange how calm he is when his heart would normally be in a mayhem at another person’s proximity. He waits for the thundering drum in his chest, but it doesn't come. Instead, he just feels strangely calm, happy even. This close, he can almost count Sunoo’s lashes and see the constellation of stars littered across his eyes. He has a tiny mole on his left cheek and against Sunghoon’s better judgement, he pokes the soft skin.
Sunoo startles when he feels a weak jab on his face, his own hand freezing mid-air from where he was sweeping away the thin layer of snow from Sunghoon’s shoulder. Their eyes meet and there’s an equally bewildered expression etched on Sunghoon’s face, like he didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s gone when Sunoo blinks and he’s met with that same soft smile that he’s starting to grow fond of seeing. He stifles a laugh and settles on grinning back at Sunghoon, as if they’re sharing a sweet secret. It’s so easy like this. He never realized how comfortable the other boy makes him feel.
Sunghoon lowers down his finger and Sunoo tucks his hands back to his side. They’re still staring at each other when they both burst out into laughter, their voices blending in bright, loud colors.
When they look back to this day, Sunghoon will realize that this is the first time he fully grasped the meaning behind the word hope. It’s in the small things, he decides. The carefreeness in Sunoo’s voice despite having just experienced a situation most people will find traumatic. Or the casual way he asked when do you want to visit then like that’s a future waiting to happen. But mostly it’s the way Sunoo makes him feel. The chances and possibilities. That Sunghoon can be anyone he wants to be.