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enihk-writes · 8 months

Text

[homecoming]

pairing: past!chung-myung x gn!they/them!reader

summary: the night before he leaves mount hua to subdue cheon-ma and the demonic cult, chung myung pays a visit to the small run-down shed at the edge of the village.

content warning: reader is implied to have depression stemming from their eventual disability due to internal injuries healing wrongly // reader is implied to have some minor form of age-related memory loss later in life // canon-compliant chung myung death from the opening of the novel

word count: 4.0k

author’s note: yea,,, so uh,,, i got hit with an angst-a-tron MK3500 at 10pm on like a monday night one(1) day before i have to go back to campus for my semester 2 classes.... this fic somehow ended up being a fucking monster longest fic i’ve ever written in my career 我的天啊。我发神经病了是吗？这么突然能够写的这么多字？我老师看到这个肯定会把我两个脚从我学校四楼 tie together and 丢我下去。

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

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the chatter in the bustling dining hall died down as he walked further and further away from the crowd and towards the sect gates.

past the open gates, he notices the older man with greying hair standing serenely, looking out at the nightscape and the village that surrounded the base of the mountain down below.

sa-hyung

when did that guy grow so old? he knew the sect leader was getting on in years but, looking at the crow’s feet crinkling from the smile his sa-hyung gave him, it’s just hard not to get sentimental, you know?

are you going to see them? the sect leader asks, a teasing, knowing tone in his voice. like he was aware of something chung myung wasn’t. it was a little annoying, but this was nothing he wasn’t used to at this point.

chung myung grunts, not really wanting to answer the sect leader’s questions. truthfully, it was a habit everyone around him knew about. no one ever asked him about his relationship with that person out-right though, they were smarter then that, and were rather happy to stay curious.

tomorrow's mission won’t be like any other. the sect leader muses, looking out again into the distance.

you should tell them.

chung myung looks at the sect leader incredulously, like the man had grown a second head and was speaking unhinged gibberish.

about what?

you know exactly what i’m talking about chung myung. i know you’re not daft. a deep belly-chuckle came from the good-natured sect leader, even as old men, he still wanted to tease the younger one.

chung myung stays silent. he would rather not confront the matters of his heart tonight. he will in due time, just not now. it was better for the both of them — that person, and himself.

the sect leader chuckles again at the other’s unusually quiet demeanor, turning to go back into the bustling dining hall.

it seems i’ve held you back long enough, run along and come back on time.

the younger man clicks his tongue, scratching his neck and looking away in embarrassment, he felt too seen by the elder then — but he still promised to return before morning. tomorrow was an important day for the sect and the world as a whole, after all.

at the base of the mountain was a forested path leading to a thriving town under mount hua’s protection, he walks past the crowds of villagers and noisy night-market vendors, further and further away until it was just the serene moon of méiyuè accompanying him to where he had promised he would be.

sure enough, right along the dirt path was the familiar shadow of the run down hut, almost shed, that person had taken to calling their home these past few years.

he thought about the day they left the sect. he remembers chasing after them to the gates, hoping he could get them to stay. he didn’t understand why they left back then, even now, he still couldn’t get their reasons.

how could you leave the home you’ve lived in all your life like this? he shouts at them in confusion and anger, maybe with a little sadness laced in it too.

their back looked small. tired. the weight of their debilitating condition heavy on their minds. there is no cure for a broken qi core, after all. it’s like taking the eyes of an artist away or a musician’s hearing. when a murim warrior can no longer use their qi, what were they to do? if their condition hits rock bottom, they might not even have control over their own bodies, or even their consciousness. friends become foes, the living and dead are made equal in their skewed judgement, what if...

a chill ran down their spine at the thought of that scenario. no, they’d make sure such a tragedy can never befall on any innocent being. that’s why they were leaving the sect. for the safety of their sect brothers and sisters, and mostly for their own peace of mind.

why won’t you answer me, damn it!

chung myung’s calls were edging on desperation. he’d never been one to do well in the face of change. he was happy with the way things were, so why weren’t they? what went wrong? why did they want to leave?

so what if you can’t fight anymore? it doesn’t mean you can’t live here, everybody loves you so much and they can all take care of you!

besides, he was here too.

wasn’t he?

there was a long silence. the cool autumn winds danced past the sect gates. surrounding the two were large, towering plum blossom tress now donned in a lovely shade of caramel, with it’s leaves shaking free from the branches it spent a lifetime on — fluttering along with where the breeze led them and falling gracefully at their feet.

ever since their qi core broke, they’ve mostly kept to themselves. not really going anywhere outside their room or talking to other sect members. other then chung myung, of course. he was clingy, nosy and annoying. well, it was hard to shake him off in general.

if they were skipping meals, he’d break in through their window with a table of food. if they weren’t getting out of bed, he’d carry them out to join him in slacking off on daily duties. if they were beginning to spiral into the loop of numbed despair, he would barge in with something for them to do — housekeeping, meeting with merchants, archiving records, anything that kept them on their feet or distracted them enough.

it didn’t really make the feeling go away, but chung myung tries, and that was all that mattered to them.

but they had to go.

because they loved the people who lived here, they have to leave this home behind, so no one will ever suffer the chance of getting hurt by their hands.

because they loved him that they hope he would never have to go through the inevitable task of taking their life, when they are no longer themselves.

i should get going.

they grinned at him, honestly feeling a little silly about getting caught up in their emotions and becoming so sentimental at that moment. they were just moving out to live in the forest around the town outskirts. and it’s not like chung myung couldn’t come down the mountain to see them whenever he wanted either.

chung myung too, grew embarrassed. was he crazy? why did he act like they were going off to some faraway place? there were still within reach, there were still near mount hua. he could see them whenever.

tch. go off already.

he shoos them, flicking his hand at them in annoyance. wanting to hide his heated face from their prying eyes.

he hears them laugh for the first time in a while, he had been missing it lately, how could he have forgotten how sweet it sounded? they turn on their heel, heart lighter from before, it was going to be alright. they would be fine. chung myung will be fine. the sun will still rise on the east, and the seasons will change, the world will move on and so will they.

i’ll be going for real now, bye-bye chung myung. come see me tomorrow, okay?

nah, i don’t feel like it.

please?

he sighs.

i’ll go if i can slip past the sect elders.

you say it like you want them to catch you, i guess you really don’t want to visit me. how upsetting...

ugh. fine, i’ll see you in your stupid new house.

how sweet of you chung myung! look at how grown-up you’ve become!

you little—!

they laughed loudly as they ran down the mountain before chung myung tried to catch them in a chokehold. he doesn’t even bother chasing after them, but he does look on at where the ran off to. their hair had been cut shorter then it usually was, and the tie wasn’t able to hold back the lose few strands that fluttered around their face. they looked younger, lighter, like a kid going on a trip away from home. if they were that happy, he has to be happy for them too, shouldn’t he?

it’s been more then fifty years since then.

he walks into the humble abode, they were sitting against the windows, a book in one hand and the other nursing a cup of tea. they’ve aged, he realised. their once battle-worn face had gone soft, the groves around their eyes had grown deeper over time. skin that was once full and youthful had grown loose around the bones. their hair that had always been so well-taken care of no matter what was now thinner, a little dry and coarse. he picks up the brush lying on the dresser nearby, and walks over to where they were sitting.

with a confidence that seemed to have done this a hundred times, he gathers their long hair and wraps a thin white ribbon around it, looping it over here and there. when he was done, he leans back to look at his work, it wasn’t that good, but it wasn’t the worst either. he wanted to braid the ribbon into their hair but he gave up halfway and settled with a low one instead.

as he sets down the brush, they sweep the half-braided hair over their shoulder to look at his handiwork, fingers playing with the ends of the ribbon.

do you like it?

they look up at him, eyes searching his face, a look of unfamiliarity in their gaze. taking a moment longer before a small smile finally cracks on their face.

chung myung...!

they call out his name, turning to face him fully. they remembered this stranger in their house, and look at how he hadn’t aged a day.

chung myung smiles back sadly. it wasn’t fair how he was the only one whose time had seemed to stop, and theirs had kept moving on, the age taking their memories away at every turn. he just saw them yesterday and they’ve already had trouble remembering him again. they’ve already lost so much, it just wasn’t fair.

i made tea. you should have some, training must have been hard on you.

they smooth out the frown on his brow, tenderly rubbing circles on his cheek with their thumb. humming an unnamed melody as they did so.

he looks over at the said pot of tea. it had already gone cold, probably even bitter from how long the leaves must have sat in the water. he takes a cup anyways, and empties it out, not even leaving a single drop behind.

they giggle in amusement, wondering out loud if he was that thirsty.

hm... the tea you made is really... rich in flavour. thank you for letting me have all of it. i really needed that.

he lies while choosing his words carefully, setting down his cup and pushing the tea set away, he ponders for a moment, and picks them up in his arms, carrying them over to their bed.

what about my book?

you can read that later.

they watch as he sets them down on their bed, kicking off his shoes and climbing in right after. he sighs as his head plops down on their lap, making himself comfortable.

their hands find their way into his thick, dark locks of hair — fingers gingerly undoing the ribbon, watching in quiet fascination as chung myung's abundant tresses came cascading down their legs and flowing over the edge of the bed.

he hums, almost purrs as they thread through the troublesome kinks and knots in his curls, scratching his scalp as they worked through it. his tense body grows softer at their touch, leaning into their hand, wishing that those soft palms would lay on his head forever.

but alas, the night wore off and the distant bustle of the village nightlife had faded into the gentle symphony of the nocturnal critters for quite some time now. he knows he had to get up and return to the mountains, but how could he? the heart wants what it wants, and what it wanted was to stay by their side until the last moment. but he had also promised his sa-hyung he would be back on time.

a long drawn-out sigh was passed in the silence that lay between the two of them. they gaze down at chung myung’s face, again scrunched into a frown.

you frown so much.

the pads of their fingers ghosted over his brows, softly smoothing out the hard creases on his face. he kept his eyes closed. if he opened them, he knew that familiar face would be looking over his, and if he looked at that face, he would look into their eyes, and if he looked at them long enough, he would never want to leave this place. hell, he might not even bother to go with the sect tomorrow.

tomorrow, most of the elders and older disciples will be leaving to subjugate the demonic cult. i’ll be going with them.

he pauses. waiting for them to tell him to stay.

they don’t.

i’ll have to leave soon.

silence.

i’ll come back.

again, he was met with no answer.

you have to take care of yourself.

a beat, and then — a barely audible hum of acknowledgement graces his ears.

chung myung sits up, pulling them into a tight hug, it was really out-of-character of him but something in him was telling him to do it anyways. burying his face deeper into the dip of their neck, he felt his anxiety pour out of his lips.

you better be here when i come back. don’t take this as a chance to go somewhere i can’t find you. i have something i have to tell you so, wait for me here. please?

they rub soothing circles on his back, hugging him back with as much strength their aging body could muster. resting their chin daintily on his shoulder, they revel in the rare burst of affection the man was showing tonight.

hm. you worry too much.

they giggle for a bit.

where else would i be if not here? this is my home, isn’t it?

yeah, but...

if you’re still worried about that... well, i won’t try anything anymore. i promise.

really?

yes. really.

chung myung loosens his grip and finally lets go of his hold on them. coughing awkwardly, he moves them off his lap. slowly, he gets up, puts on his shoes and puts himself together. he turns on his heel, heading for the entryway. they followed after him, their feet shuffling against the floor trying to keep up.

it was drizzling outside.

there was a sudden warmth enveloping him from behind. it took him a moment to register their arms around his waist, face buried against his back. he barely held back his smile as he takes ahold of their hands, once again turning to face them. it seems that saying their goodbyes was a lot harder today, for him and for them too.

goodnight, chung myung.

you should go to bed soon.

he stays at his spot, watching them slide their door shut, listening as the movements in the shed ceased into soft breaths that eventually evened out. he waits a while longer and finally found the strength to return to his own home.

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morning rolled around rather quickly. the streets were lined with throngs of civilians on each side of the road making way for the farewell procession of the would-be heroes. vibrant pink petals were cast into the air as the elders of the sect led the disciples onwards.

from the corner of his eye he catches a white ribbon flowing in the wind, but when he swings his head to look, there was no one there. was he just seeing things? his heart drops a little, he was hoping to see them before he —

look up.

his gaze meets theirs, a gleeful glint in their eyes, all perched up in the trees. he wonders what they were clasping in their hands, held up to their mouth in what looked like a kiss. though he didn’t have to for long. as he passed by under them, he felt a flutter of white plum blossoms raining down on him, most of it falling off him except for a lone petal that stuck on his lower lip. he picks up the petal in between his fingers, feeling the corner of his lip crook up in amusement.

he should ask them about that stunt they pulled when he comes back.

and he should probably also tell them how pretty they were with that white ribbon he gave them, all braided into their hair, when he came back from this.

finally, it was over.

cheon-ma has finally been defeated.

all at the cost of so many lives. all taken too soon, too cruelly and all for what? who was going to remember the names of those that died here today? who would mourn for these lives? chung myung couldn’t think of an answer to that.

his body grows limp and he collapses on top of the mountain of corpses. he’s lost too much blood, probably from losing his whole left arm.

to be born alone and to die alone like a common mutt, what a life he had lived as the thirteenth disciple of the great mount hua sect.

all that was left for him to do, as his consciousness walked on the thin line between life and death, was to wallow in his regrets. he could see his memories flicker before his eyes. was this what people talk about seeing when your life is drawing to a close? all that he has done so far, had led to this sorry end?

if only he had been more diligent in training.

if only he had been just a little stronger then he was now.

if only he could have saved a life, any life. a single innocent life spared from the cold clutches of an unjust death.

ah.

and one more thing.

he wanted to apologize to them, for breaking his promise. he hoped they would curse him out a little, because at least that meant they thought of him. he hopes they wouldn’t get too lonely and join them all too soon.

he feels his senses grow numb.

it’s been a few years since chung myung had somehow traversed through time and had woken up a hundred years into the future from when he had died on that mountain of corpses.

he’d kept himself busy with building the now fallen and derelict sect, back into the glory it once had.

this new body of his, it was going to turn twenty-two soon. in his downtime, he’d slipped away from the sect and had gone down the mountain to the town as he usually did.

though it was a little different today. he finds his feet taking him down the almost familiar path out of the town and on an overgrown grass patch where a dirt path once lay. and sure enough, he could see the familiar shadow of a house, almost shed standing in the distance.

time had worked it’s damage on the structure.

he peers in from the broken-in door to see the place left to it’s bare bones. whatever furniture or item had all been looted and taken. in the middle of the room was a mess of broken wood, remnants of when the roof caved in.

chung myung walks into the dilapidated room, looking around for anything that could have survived the past hundred years of wear and tear. anything that could remind him of them.

nothing. there was really nothing left.

a breeze came in from a window, and the corner of his eye catches a fluttering movement. he swings his head and there, on the window sills, was a ribbon, turned light brown from the layers of dust and dirt, it’s once long silky edges now choppy and frayed.

hands shaky, he unties the ribbon from the window, holding it carefully, as though it would fall apart in his grasp. he could feel the barely buried feelings of regret crash upon him all over again. he wonders if they had left this behind with the blind hope that he would come back?

he was back, against all odds. he had managed to come home, but, they weren’t here to see it. nobody he used to ever care for was here to see him anymore.

he should leave. before his feelings get the better of him.

he holds his hands to his face, sighing deeply. steeling himself to move on. but when he drops his hands and opens his eyes, he is once again stunned in his tracks. was it really?

there, past the open window and on the clearing right outside looking at him curiously was a face he would know anywhere. a startled squeak leaves them as they realize that their eyes met, trying their best to block his view with the laundry basket they held in their arms. backing off and beginning to scurry away from the scene.

chung myung knows that it was a long shot, an impossible shot into the dark even, but what if they had been reincarnated like he had? it wasn’t out of the question, right? he thinks as his legs swing over the window, jumping down from it and begins to give chase to the one running away from him.

really, what sane person would ever think that they could outrun a martial artist? chung myung caught up so quickly it was honestly laughable. he catches them by the collar, yanking them back and they let out high-pitched yelp in fright.

he could barely hold back his laugh as he looks down at their face, eyes screwed shut and lips pursed in anxiety.

steadying them on their feet, he turns them to face him. they look different from all those years ago, but his soul knows. it knows better then anyone that this is them, a different face, a different voice and maybe even another name but all of that cannot trick his soul from knowing who they were.

he searches their face, there was no look of recognition. no matter, they could start over, he couldn’t let this chance slip past him like it had back then. he would make things right by them, he wouldn’t keep them waiting in vain like he had back then.

chung myung clears his throat, grinning boyishly at them, hands formed together in greeting, bowing his head before he looks back at them.

ah, really sorry about chasing you down like that. my name is chung myung, and i come from mount hua sect in the mountains back there. it’s nice to meet you.

they look at him, up and down, assessing him for a bit. crazy guy. chasing them down like a predator hunting their prey. crazy. batshit insane. who does that? who even does that? but, they would be lying if their heart was swayed by that grin, he was a little cute, and who in the world wouldn’t be swayed by a face like his? not them, that’s for sure.

besides, when they saw him through the window, something about him...

it felt familiar. it’s almost like, they have known each other from long ago. but wasn’t that weird? how could one know a stranger for a lifetime? unless this was what others call a fated encounter? they bite back a gasp.

hello.

a soft, shy smile graces their lips. quietly telling him their name. chung myung couldn’t help the fondness growing in his gaze. truly, it was a miracle sent from the heavens. maybe this time, the two of them would finally work out what they couldn’t last time. maybe this time, they would find the ending they’ve both always wanted.

#enihkwrites #return of the mount hua sect #return of mount hua #return of the blossoming blade #rotbb #rotmhs #cheong myeong #chung myung #cheong myeong x reader #chung myung x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #return of the blossoming blade x reader #not going to lie babes this one took me two weeks to finish writing #i had a plan and i lost the plan and now look at this ending yall #i lost the plot somewhere in the fic #can you believe im still going through the novel #imagine being a writer that hates reading #absolute insanity

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