The day passed in lazy laughter and harmless chaos. Taemin had made it his mission to annoy the soul out of Daon.
They went on like that for hours chasing each other up and down the mossy paths, daring each other to touch random shrine statues, even making up stupid ghost stories about the creaky floors just to freak each other out.
By nightfall, the mountain had swallowed the sun, and the shrine fell quiet again.
In the main hall, sprawled out like tired kids after a festival, Daon and Taemin had both fallen asleep heads tilted back, mouths slightly open, arms flopped wherever gravity took them. They hadn't even made it to the guest rooms.
No futon, no complaints. Just two brothers knocked out cold on the wooden floor.
Rinwoo stood in the doorway, a thin blanket draped over his arm.
He watched them for a second. Their faces, flushed from the chill and laughter, looked younger somehow. Lighter.
He stepped closer quietly and knelt down, carefully draping the blanket over both of them. Daon mumbled something in his sleep and Taemin turned his face to the side, snuggling into the warmth like a cat.
Rinwoo let out a breathy chuckle through his nose.
"So silly," he whispered, brushing a bit of hair from Daon's forehead.
There was something peaceful about it all this moment, this day.
No sharp words from Mr. Lee. No tension in the air. Just boys being boys.
He sat beside them for a little while longer, watching the way the wind rustled the paper doors.
For the first time in days, maybe even weeks, Rinwoo didn't feel the ache in his chest.
Just quiet… and a little warmth.
Rinwoo sat there in the soft silence, the only sounds being Taemin's quiet snore and Daon's slow, steady breathing. The blanket hugged their bodies just right.
But the calm didn't last.
Footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway. Heavy. Familiar.
Rinwoo stiffened a little, his head turning toward the entrance. And sure enough Taekyun stood there.
The faint golden light from the hallway cast shadows across his sharp features. His gaze fell on Daon and Taemin first, sprawled on the cold floor like children passed out after playing too hard.
He blinked.
Then scoffed softly. "Stupid."
It wasn't cruel. Not really. More like exasperated affection the kind that slips out when you care but don't know how to show it.
His eyes finally landed on Rinwoo.
Their gazes met Rinwoo's warm and calm, Taekyun's unreadable. For a second, the room felt heavier. More fragile.
"You should start packing," Taekyun said flatly, crossing his arms. "We're leaving early tomorrow. We've wasted enough time here."
Rinwoo's smile faded, replaced by a flicker of disappointment.
He glanced down at Daon and Taemin again. Their breathing was so peaceful. For a second, he wished he could freeze this moment stretch it out a little longer, just one more day. Just one.
But he nodded quietly.
He understood.
They weren't just here to rest. They had a world waiting back home a business to run, people to manage. Real life didn't wait.
"…Alright," he said softly.
Without another word, Rinwoo stood up. His knees wobbled a little from sitting too long, but he caught himself. Then, with one last look at the boys, he slipped out of the hall, steps quiet against the wooden floor.
Taekyun remained behind for a second, his eyes still watching where Rinwoo had been.
He didn't know why it stung seeing that smile disappear so easily.
But it did.
Still, he said nothing. Just turned on his heel and walked away.
IN THE MORNING
The morning air in the mountains was crisp, still carrying the scent of last night's rain. Mist hovered gently over the temple grounds as Master Hwang stood with his hands folded behind his back, watching the boys gather their things.
Rinwoo bowed low, his figure wrapped in a soft beige coat, the blanket he had used still folded in his arms. His eyes met Master Hwang's for a moment and in that brief glance, the old man's warning echoed again in his chest like a low thunder rumbling through calm skies.
Take care of yourself…
If you grow weak, so will the shield.
Taemin clumsily gave a wave, yawning like a child who hadn't slept enough. Daon nodded respectfully. Even Taekyun muttered a quiet thank-you, eyes avoiding Master Hwang's as always.
And just like that, they were gone.
The long ride back was quiet. No one had the energy to fill the space with chatter. Taemin passed out against the car window, mouth slightly open, headphones in. Daon buried himself in files on his tablet, mentally already at the office. While Taekyun just focused on driving.
Rinwoo leaned back in his seat, arms wrapped around himself, gazing out at the blur of mountains and cities. His head buzzed with thoughts but none louder than that one image from his dream: Taekyun, lying still in a pool of black shadow.
The panic. The fear.
The curse.
By the time they reached the Lee estate, the sun was already high.
Taekyun and Daon didn't even remove their coats. They simply stepped out and made a beeline for the company car waiting outside, barely exchanging words before the door slammed shut behind them.
Taemin staggered in with his bag dragging behind him like a corpse. "I'm dead. Don't wake me up until next year," he groaned, heading straight for his room like a zombie.
Rinwoo stood there for a moment alone in the hallway, everything suddenly feeling… too still again.
No laughter.
No mountains.
No shrine.
The servant appeared silently beside him and offered to help carry the luggage upstairs. Rinwoo smiled weakly and nodded.
Back in his own room, the moment the door shut, a strange emptiness settled over him.
He unpacked slowly folding the clothes, returning his toiletries to their usual places. The silence in the room was too clean, too perfect. It only made the thoughts louder.
He lay down on his bed, the mattress cold against his back.
He stared at the ceiling, that same vision playing over and over again Taekyun falling, his breath stolen by something dark and ancient.
He remembered how pale Master Hwang looked when he said it.
"The curse never ended. Fate just sent you to shield him. But that shield is cracking."
Rinwoo pressed his hand over his chest, where his heart felt too loud.
He was supposed to protect Taekyun.
But what if he couldn't?
And worse…
What if Taekyun didn't even want to be protected?
EVENING.
Dinner was quiet too quiet.
The long, polished table sat in soft golden light, dishes laid out neatly, untouched in some places, half-eaten in others. The faint clinking of silverware echoed louder than usual.
Rinwoo sat near the end of the table, picking at his food with little interest. He'd slept most of the day, and yet… he still felt like his bones carried sandbags. The fever had dulled, but his body still ached like it had walked for miles. Still, he kept a small polite smile on his face. He knew better than to look tired around Mr. Lee.
Daon sat across from him, upright and proper as always, but his brows furrowed slightly as if he was mentally replaying Master Hwang's words again and again.
Taemin's chair remained empty.
As expected.
Out at another bar, pretending he didn't care as much as he did.
Taekyun's seat, too, remained cold. He was dining with clients tonight something about a contract, a meeting, a delay. Rinwoo didn't know the details. He only knew the hollow that came from eating without him.
Halfway through dinner, Mr. Lee set his chopsticks down with a sharp click.
"So," he said, his voice calm but laced with authority, "Who's the match?"
The air shifted. Rinwoo looked up briefly, then back down at his plate. He had a bad feeling.
Daon cleared his throat. "Master Hwang saw the vision clearly this time. He said my fated match is rebellious… daring… a difficult person to handle. And their family owes a large sum to us."
Mr. Lee's eyes narrowed, calculating. And then… he froze.
It hit him like a slap.
"Eunjae Hong," he muttered under his breath. "Of course. That brat."
The name dropped like a stone into the middle of the table.
Mr. Lee leaned back in his chair, jaw tightening. His fingers tapped once against the glass next to him, then stilled.
"Why is it," he said slowly, voice simmering with frustration, "that my sons always get paired with the most… inconvenient people?"
His gaze flicked toward Rinwoo, just for a second not cruel, but sharp. Measured.
Rinwoo's fingers tightened around his chopsticks, his appetite vanishing completely.
He didn't need to be reminded. He already knew. He was a match Mr. Lee had been forced to accept. Not by love. Not by choice. By fate.
Mr. Lee sighed heavily and rubbed his temple, the weight of stress and tradition sinking into his shoulders.
"I'll meet with Mr. Hong tomorrow," he said at last. "This can't be dragged out. If this match is inevitable, I'll make sure it at least benefits the company."
Rinwoo's chest ached.
Of course. It was never just about fate.
It was about what fate could leverage.
He quietly placed his spoon down and stood up, bowing his head slightly. "I'm not feeling too well. Please excuse me."
Mr. Lee didn't reply. Daon gave a small nod, a flicker of concern crossing his face.
Rinwoo walked back to his room in silence, footsteps light on the marble floor.
Behind him, the sound of dinner continued but to him, it might as well have been an entirely different world.
The house had quieted into that eerie kind of stillness only the late hours could bring. The clink of Daon's door shutting had echoed earlier, and even the servants had vanished into their corners of the estate.
But Rinwoo couldn't sleep.
Not yet.
Not when Taekyun still wasn't home.
He stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, arms crossed over his chest, thoughts noisy in his head. Every time a car passed by outside, his heart leapt, only to sink again. It was ridiculous how his mind refused to rest until he knew Taekyun had returned safely.
Eventually, restless and thirsty, he slipped out of bed and padded downstairs to grab a water bottle.
That's when the front door creaked open.
Rinwoo froze at the base of the stairs, breath catching as the night air swept in and with it, Taekyun stumbled through, tie askew, shirt halfway untucked, hair disheveled, eyes glassy and heavy.
Drunk.
Rinwoo sighed, not in surprise but in quiet resignation. Taekyun had a notoriously low alcohol tolerance. He rarely drank usually stayed composed and elegant but when he did cave, it hit him like a hammer.
"Tae!" Rinwoo hurried over, looping an arm around his waist before he could collapse onto the marble floor. Taekyun grunted softly, leaning into the touch like a man too tired to argue.
"Let's get you upstairs," Rinwoo muttered, trying not to show how warm his face felt.
The climb to the bedroom was slow, awkward, and filled with the soft sound of Taekyun's uneven breathing. Once there, Rinwoo gently lowered him onto the bed. Carefully, he removed Taekyun's shoes, belt, and socks, setting them aside one by one. The air in the room was faintly warm, and Taekyun's skin was damp with sweat he'd clearly pushed himself too hard.
Rinwoo walked to the bathroom, grabbed a small towel, soaked it in cold water, and returned to the bedside. He knelt down, dabbing the towel gently against Taekyun's flushed face and neck, trying to cool him down.
"Tae," he murmured, "You know you can't handle alcohol. Why drink?"
Taekyun didn't respond. He just exhaled, head lolling slightly to the side.
Rinwoo paused as he cleaned his chest, freezing when he realized how close they were Taekyun's breath brushing against his hand, their knees almost touching. The soft rise and fall of his chest. The way his long lashes brushed his skin.
He'd never been this close to him before. Not like this.
His heart ached.
He wanted to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone, just once. Maybe run his fingers through his hair. Maybe—
No.
Rinwoo bit his lip, and with a shy smile tugging at his face, stood up and turned to put the towel away.
But just as he did—
A hand caught his wrist.
His heart stopped.
He turned back slowly. Taekyun's eyes were still closed, but his grip was firm almost needy. Like he didn't want Rinwoo to go.
"Tae…?" Rinwoo whispered, barely daring to hope.
And then Taekyun murmured a name. A soft breath of a name.
Rinwoo leaned down, heart thudding in his chest, ears straining to hear—
"...Yuna…"
Rinwoo's entire body stiffened.
The name echoed louder than it was spoken.
Like a slap across the face.
Then again, brokenly, from Taekyun's parted lips:
"Yuna… please don't go…"
Rinwoo's chest caved in. His hand flew up to cover his mouth.
Yuna.
Taekyun's ex-girlfriend. The one he'd loved before the arranged marriage ruined everything. The one he had never truly let go of.
The warmth in Rinwoo's chest drained in an instant, leaving cold, hollow disappointment behind. His breath turned shaky. His eyes stung.
He yanked his wrist free, not roughly, but quickly like he couldn't bear to be touched anymore.
And then he turned and ran.
Down the hallway. Past the servants' rooms. Back into his own cold, quiet bedroom where he shut the door and leaned against it, breathing like he'd just been chased by a ghost.
His heart wouldn't slow down. His hands trembled.
He sank to the floor and curled into himself.
Of course.
Of course it was never him Taekyun wanted.
It never had been.