#this is like the exact opposite of a radiance x reader fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hk-plus-you · 4 years

Note

Hello! What about a scenario where Godseekers finding out that reader is true god of gods?

Idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but I hope y’all enjoy it

For a higher being, you were young, a child among gods. For the average bug, you were an ancient being among children. Still, your odd mixture of determination and mind-reading meant you were pretty hopeful that you would find followers.

When you came across the kingdom of Hollownest you new it would be a gamble. You could sense two wyrms fighting over the territory. Such an obnoxiously narcissistic breed of high beings would be tearing each other and everything around them apart. At the same time though, you could take advantage of what they left behind, the minds given to bugs by them and make a place of your own. Even with your ability to bend and manipulate minds the same way another being would bend the land they rule over one wyrm would be more than you could handle, let alone fighting against two in the middle of a war.

Dirtmouth was a quaint little town but not what you were looking for. Delving just below the surface and you could tell that things were getting nasty. The air was rancid, each small draft of hot air pricking at your mind. If you focused, you could hear the shrieking of a trapped wyrm bouncing off your head, much to your disgust and annoyance. Her bright light trying to invade every ounce of your being like she did to each creature. Thankfully, a higher being can’t directly influence one another like that. You had no worries about the infection, but your hatred of it and the being that caused it grew with each moment.

Until finally you reached another area. The City of Tears. Such a calm and cool place. Nothing more than a simple dodge of guards or enacting of fear in the husks blocked your progress through the great city. Even with the place being the very heart of Hollownest her influence was just a feather’s touch in comparison to the Crossroads. With enough time you could take back the minds of those infected and gather followers of those who wander through. You could imagine it now, an entire city dedicated to peaceful minds, each bug following you to achieve such tranquility. Their sorrows and regrets flowing freely away like the rain down the aqueducts.

As you explore what you hoped would one day be your territory and spoke with any bug or ghost about you found where said aqueducts flow to. Just bellow Lemm’s little antique collection you found the entryway. Down to the Royal Waterways full of trash and muck. Such a place would have to be claimed too, even if you weren’t exactly fond of stretching yourself out even further. You didn’t have to have it all at once, unlike a wyrm, you knew patience, able to sit and wait for your own strength to grow.

Still, you knew it would be better to explore the waterways now rather than later. With one soft hop, you were inside the bowels of the city.

As you entered you felt something else begin to prick and pull at your mind. It wasn’t like before, no higher being attempting to claim you as another mindless husk to use, but something else. Something you weren’t quite sure what yet. It tugged, ever so lightly, that nagging feeling tugged at you. With a focus on it, you tugged back, trying to get a glimpse at what was calling for you.

Nothing but a small glimpse of golden clouds and bronze architecture. A blur of fights and masks. You closed off the connection before you were pulled in any further. You weren’t about to become some unknown being pawns in a game you know nothing about. Still, even as you try to pull away and cute every connection they make, a new string gets attached and another tug to the begins. No matter how much you wish to shut them out, they keep wanting to connect.

With an annoyed sigh, you find a way to avoid being like the other false gods pulled into their ring. You follow not in mind but in body. You follow the pull, feeling the gathering of power to its source, all through the twisted and vile sewers, you will one day turn great.

You found the source, a fat hunched bug. A mask of brass and a fake carapace to match adorned this bug. They muttered about gods and tuning as they rocked slightly from side to side.

Peering into their mind you were fully pulled into their realm. Golden clouds holding aloft the impossible buildings, statues dedicated to beings of power, hundreds of bugs dedicated to the worship of powerful beings… It was what any bug would imagine a realm dedicated to a pantheon of gods would look like. The gods here, most of them at least, weren’t true gods. There power only ascending through the intense worship of the bugs that lived here.

You walked into the first pantheon overconfident, underestimating just how much more powerful some of the creatures were made, and learning the descendants of certain beings were definitely still prowling around. Somehow, they didn’t even let the dead rest, ancient warrior brought out to fight without thought. Even the Godseeker themself taunted you for your first failed attempt.

With the second you didn’t hold back a single thing, you used every ability at your disposal. This particular one prooving annoying, but doable.

The third had you seeing a being that chilled you to your core. A being you had only seen shreds of glimpses in a few creatures nightmares reveling in what they viewed as a new stage to perform.

Somehow you pulled through to the fourth pantheon. Even as you fought through you were slowly beaten down. Only barely making it through after countless attempts.

The fifth, and what you tiredly hoped would be the final pantheon. Through each person, you fought before, all the harder. Each failed attempt sending you back to start again. Yet another battle against ghosts and the children of higher beings. Till finally, you’re fighting the one who sacrificed themself again. In their purest and strongest. Slowly, you cut them down one last time. Your vision turning white as you went back to Godhome, a champion among gods.

Yet when your vision returned you only saw one single seeker, watching as if this was yet another fight. In the distance, you saw something rise, bright and powerful.

Just before she descended.

This is who they were attempting to attune with? This is the being they were bringing the dead back for? A selfish wyrm trapped in a realm they barely understood!?

You stood straighter than you had through this whole ordeal. The realm of dreams and minds was yours to control. Even in this warped version created by the seekers, she was still within it. She abused it’s properties, using it without care for what the dream realm was meant to do. You would beat her down right in front of the one who idolized her.

Even when she collapsed you weren’t satisfied. As the dream began to collapse, the ground shattering beneath your feet, you launched yourself at her. Her attempts to teleport away only saving her for a moment. Each time she fled you were right behind, grasping and tearing the fur from her.

She shot upwards, a futile attempt to run again. Pathetic attempts to shoot you down failing as you quickly crawled up to her.

You jump up, the realm breaking and form around you. Eyes blinded with white as you tear apart everything around you, a promised destruction of everything, of her.

They’re bowing before you. The first bug you saw, their body shaking as they cried praises. Your vision only slowly came back, the world around you seemed smaller, and just a bit clearer. No stench of the wyrms was left. It was only you to control your place. You have your followers now. More power than you ever thought you could have.

You ascended. You ascended so much further than you could ever think of.

#this is like the exact opposite of a radiance x reader fic #godseekers #hollow knight #reader insert #my writings #radiance #the radiance

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scriptaed · 4 years

Text

bygones of the sun. 04 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 4.8k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

a/n: a repost of my old fic!

You [6:36 pm] I won’t be in class today, sorry…

Hani [6:38 pm] Wait, what? Are you sure? We have a test coming up soon...

Hani [6:39 pm] Is everything okay?

You [6:40 pm] Oh yeah, I’m totally fine. I just got a cold over the weekend.

Because of a certain someone, you cough into the glaring phone screen which buzzes with yet another incoming text.

Hani [6:40 pm] Ay… why are you always so careless about your health.

Hani [6:41 pm] Alright, well, make sure you get lots and lots of rest!

Hani [6:41 pm] Don’t worry about today, I’ll head over tomorrow to hand you my notes.

It’s times like these that you wonder what you had ever done in your past life to be blessed with friends like Hani and Junghwa, but considering how you’ve also been cursed with the boy that is named Jung Hoseok, you’re not sure if you’ve once led a courageous or cowardice life. Nonetheless, you smile to yourself in bed, stricken with a cold only you and him know the cause of, and you plan to keep it that way.

You [6:43 pm] Thanks, you’re the best. Tell Junghwa I said hi and that I’m sorry!

Hani [6:44 pm] Oh, don’t worry… I will… and when I do, you’ll hear her screaming from all the way back home.

Snorting at her remark—which is hardly an exaggeration—you toss your phone to the side of your bed and plop back down to sink into the abyss of your mattress and, hopefully, slumber; but unlike the wishes you’ve planned for your progress towards recuperation, sleep does not come to you as easily as you had hoped for it to. And it’s not because of your constant blowing of nose, only to have it stuffed again the second you lie back down, or the shuffling in bed to stimulate some warmth into your freezing hands that keeps you up, but it’s the flashbacks of that night from just a couple of days ago that continues to burn in the back of your mind and keeps you awake.

“What’re you talking about?” you scoff. “Me? In love with you? There has to be something wrong with you.”

“Really?” his vacant hand cups his chin in thought as the other handles the steering wheel with utter ease, and even though his carefree stance should be something to worry over, you can’t help but admit how oddly enticing he looks; one hand on the wheel and another running through his drenched bangs which framed his facial features, including his sharp jawline and the bump of his Adam’s apple, everything from his relaxed posture to the dark look of his eyes when he whips his head to throw a quick glance—or more accurately, a smirk—strikes an urge of desire you ironically want to disown. Allured by the glow of his honey tan skin and the soft, red lips of his under the streetlights which zooms past through the night sky looming above, you’re just barely able to catch his next words. “Then explain why you’re always staring at me like that.”

“Staring?” you subconsciously blurt out until you’re finally able to register his question, eliciting a frown from you. “I’m not staring. What is there to stare at?”

“Well, apparently, there’s me,” he quips. “What? Too handsome to look away? Should I wear a mask next time?”

You scoff, mouth gaping and eyes shifting between the cocky boy and the streets, “I can’t believe you… do you not know the concept of decency?”

“There’s nothing to be decent about when I’m just stating the truth,” he chortles with a shrug.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you’re shocked that someone as prideful as him actually exists in the world. So in a rage of a fit, you open the front glove compartment only to be shot down with yet another surprise waiting for you, which happens to be a box of… condoms.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter under your breath, cheeks burning and eyes widening when you finally acknowledge the things the boy next to you is up to in his free time. Your attempt to be discrete about your findings coming to a failure when Hoseok catches a glimpse of you and cackles in response.

Slamming the compartment closed, you opt for your wet flip flops, slipping it off and tossing it at his head; right before it hits your target, Hoseok spots the flying object in his peripheral vision as he catches it in mid air and tosses it right back at your side of the ground. Your loud sigh becomes apparent as you watch the slipper flop right back onto your foot as if nothing had happened in the first place, but none of your actions occur without a consequence as the car thrillingly swerves side to side throughout it all and elicits a shriek from you while you push your back into the seat and your hand reaches for the grab handles hanging from the ceiling.

“Hey, I’m trying to get us both back alive and in one piece. I don’t think I need your dirty slippers for that,” he quips with a smug smile tugging at his lips.

“Then at least drive with both hands…” you mumble, hesitantly crossing your arms in fear. “I don’t want to see my life flash right before my eyes again.”

He looks over at you with a quirked brow, “you mean like this?”

You should’ve known better than to trust the renewed version of Jung Hoseok, because the next thing you know, the car sways sharply left to right and right to left as you shoot the mischievous boy a death glare. But contrary to the spite you’re trying to channel into your glare, what you find yourself and your panicking heart isn’t anger or frustration or any of that; instead, you find yourself flooded with warmth and endearment, because the boy you’re staring at brings you back to the times when you held nothing but admiration and adoration towards the renowned dancer.

Because he’s smiling again. No, not one of those smug smiles or smirks that he likes to put on in the presence of the public, but one that had been long buried underneath the ever growing shadows of the nightly phase of his demeanor. His grin spreads from ear to ear, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth and scrunching his eyes into slim lines which resonates with joy and nothing but joy and careless of the dark world surrounding him.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe under my hands,” he firmly states once the car fixes itself back into its lane amidst the empty streets of the night, looking over at you with a smirk only to crack up back into a full out cackle at the sight of your glare.

Safe under his hands, you mull over his words, it’s ironic how you felt the exact opposite around him.

But at this very moment, when your glare turns into a gaze and you can’t believe you’re actually staring at him in utter adoration, what you find yourself looking at is the boy who likes to have fun and never once cares for what others thought of him. And although you don’t like to admit it, but you find yourself falling all over again. As the car rolls along the bridge, the highway filled with cars coming into full view right underneath, your wall crumbles one by one and brick by brick. You don’t know if it’s just you and your hopeless thinking, but you like to think each and every time the street lights shine upon his sun kissed skin, a little part of the old Hoseok reveals itself in both his laugh and smile.

It’s ironic because you felt the most unsafe under his hands; as if your determination to disprove everything you once thought was wrong, that your feelings only belongs to the old Hoseok and not the new, only seems to be knocked down day by day. The longer you stay to watch the moon pass by the radiance of the sun, the more you find yourself squinting and looking away in both longing for the past and security of knowing you’re safe. Because unbeknownst to him, you’re everything but safe under his hands.

“So?”

The low tone of his voice is enough to snap you back into reality.

“So what?”

“So…” he repeats. “Are you going to explain to me why you’re always staring at me like that?”

“Like what?” you scrunch your nose. Ah, the new Hoseok is back within the blink of an eye. “I’m not staring at you.”

Hoseok turns to raise a brow at your less than convincing claim, blinking at you with those dark, alluring eyes of his and a jump in your chest traps a gasp in your throat. Slowly averting his eyes back on the road, a smirk adorns his tender lips as a chuckle escapes from the back of his throat.

“Alright, if you say so, love.”

You roll your eyes, “well, let me ask a question then. Why are you even offering this bet when you’re not even gaining anything in the first place?”

“What do you mean? I can get you to shut up about the past me,” he says with the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel, and when you look over, you notice both his hands clutching the wheel unlike before.

And even though it’s something any decent person would do, you find yourself melting into a puddle of an unknown, undiscovered mess, because as much of a tough front this boy likes to put on, there’s been several times tonight where he’s shown the softer side of him; when he wrapped you in the warmth of his sweater, out of courtesy and respect for the vulnerable you in a see through white tee, and when he teases you in his car but nevertheless complies to your requests because of the fear which radiates from your shaky breath, everything he does might be overlooked by others, but you notice the underlying tone of it all.

“If that’s your goal, then you’re going to have to make this bet with every girl in this school and have them all swoon for you in the entire school. It’s not like I’m the only person who’s still talking about the old you—”

“Oh, but you are,” he reaffirms. “I don’t think you hear about the old dance captain around campus anymore, do you? In fact, I’m sure everyone thinks Jimin is the captain now—”

“That’s not true,” you blurt out in a louder voice than you meant to, biting your bottom lip and lowering your volume, “no one says that. Your position as the captain is indisputable…” Seeing the quirk of his brows at how positively you’re speaking of him, contrary to your past, irritated tone, you clear your throat, “...or at least it was. I-I don’t know. You’re probably not as great as you used to be anymore.”

“I guess you’re right. Jimin probably is way better than me by now,” he snorts at your remark, shrugging. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to notice the downturn of his lips and the way he presses them into thin lines. Everything he says doesn’t go without any backlash, and you know that… or at least you’d like to think that maybe, just maybe, a part of him longs for the bright lights on stage and the loud cheers and whistles from the audience. You’re about to apologize for your rash words when he turns his head to glance at you with those dark, brown eyes of his, and you’re suddenly stunned still. “...but that brings me to my second question. Why are you so interested in my past?”

“I’m not,” you defend yourself. “I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m interested, but rather… curious. I’d be fine getting on with my life without knowing your past.”

He presses his lips into a line, the adorable dimples appearing to contrast the smug look on his face, and nods his head as if there isn’t a word you say that he actually believes.

“What?” you breathe. “You don’t believe me? You actually think I’m that obsessed with you?”

He cinches his brows and glances at you with a suppressed smile, “I was just wondering, and don’t take this to heart, but were you one of those girls who liked to watch me during dance practice?”

“W-What?” your eyes pop open and your breathing gets caught on the knot in your throat, because technically speaking, you were indeed one of those girls.

Hoseok only chortles at your response, running a hand through his hair and returning them to the steering wheel. “As a way to thank you for spending so much time to support me from the back, if you really want to know why I quit dancing and left it all behind, long story short, everything we did tonight explains it all.”

“... I don’t get it,” you furrow your brows.

“Tonight was fun, wasn’t it?”

You bite your bottom lip before reluctantly admitting, “...somewhat.”

He rolls his eyes at your response, a scoff leaving his lips as he leans his head against his hand, propped against his side of the door. “And did those people in the library have any fun? Do you think people stuck in dance practice and pulling all nighters every other day have any fun? Don’t you think those people want to have a life too? Doesn’t everyone want to have fun?”

You frown at his explanation, because quite frankly, that’s the dumbest reason you’ve ever heard of. If someone really loved what they were doing, they’d be committed enough to bypass all the struggles and time crunches to do what they loved. And you firmly believe dancing is, or was, exactly just that for Hoseok. This doesn’t sound like the actual reason behind his absence in the club, no, this sounds like an excuse.

“That’s bullshit. I don’t believe you even for a second,” you spit, shaking your head as he raises a brow at you. “You liked dancing too much to just leave it like that.”

And before you know it, the car comes to a stop; the engine purrs into silence and your house lies right outside the passenger window as Hoseok takes a deep breath and sighs, leaning back into his seat while tiredly running a hand through his hair.

“You were asking why I’m making this bet with you, right?” Hoseok cocks his head at you, leaning it against the window with his eyes peering down at you.

“Yeah…?”

“Well, turns out you’re not the only one trying to find out about something,” he states, tapping his fingers against the gear stick, “because it seems like to me, you know a lot more than you let on, and I’m interested in finding that out.”

Your eyes are locked with his, the two of you challenging each other in a silent feud against whatever the other is trying to hide, but when you finally spoke, the duel comes to a temporary end.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out then, because I don’t plan on ever falling for someone like you.”

Hoseok just chuckles at your response, reaching his hand out towards you for you to shake with a wink, “alright then, Ms. Inexperienced, I guess we’ll just have to see who’s the real heart breaker.”

A buzz vibrates against your head and snaps you out of your daydream as you grab your phone and try to fan your burning cheeks with your hands.

Junghwa [8:11 PM] Y/N!!! How could you leave me alone with Hani?!?!

8:11 pm.

You suddenly jump out of bed when your eyes pop open, your mind dizzy at the rush of blood flowing down to your feet and running wild at the sight of the time brazen across your phone screen. You just spent one and a half hours daydreaming about your time with the one and only Jung Hoseok. And the more you reminisce over his last words and the flirtatious wink he gave you, utterly confident that he, in fact, is much more “experienced” and “active” in the sexual side of his life to be the true heartbreaker—as if that’s actually a good thing—the more your cheeks scorch with heat and you can barely breathe in the musty room of your house.

Another series of buzzes vibrates against your hand.

Junghwa [8:12 PM] Just kidding~

Junghwa [8:13 PM] I heard you’re sick, so Hani and I are coming over to your house in ten minutes with food!

Junghwa [8:14 PM] Prepare to binge watch some dramas!!!~

Of course your two best friends would be kind enough to bring over some food for the bed stricken one, or perhaps, Junghwa’s last text confirms their true intentions of catching up on some dramas only you had subscription to. Whatever it is, you change into a pair of shorts and tee when you spot Hoseok’s sweatshirt draped over the armrest of the chair by your desk, the only sweatshirt you have available in the house, as the rest are in the washers.

You’re not really going to wear his sweater…are you, you question yourself. It isn’t much of an exaggeration to say that it’s literally freezing outside, and walking out in a t-shirt would practically ensure you an even worse cold to come—something you can’t afford considering the upcoming tests—so without much thought and lots of curiosity, you throw on his sweater only to be bombarded by the pleasant scent of him—Old Spice, clean cut and fresh with the tinge of cinnamon and peppermint.

And as if right on cue, another notification comes buzzing through your phone.

Ew, Hoseok [8:17 PM] I heard you’re sick?

Ew, Hoseok [8:18 PM] Want me to come over with some food?

No, the last thing you want is for him to come over and catch you with his sweatshirt on.

Ew, Hoseok [8:19 PM] I know you’re reading this, and I know you aren’t going to reply. So I’ll be coming over in fifteen.

In fifteen? Aren’t Junghwa and Hani also coming over in ten?

Your eyes widen and your feet begin to scramble out of your house when you realize your friends are going to somehow bump into Hoseok, a situation which you don’t want to explain to your friends about regarding how and why the infamous Hoseok is in your house. But after texting several times to both Hoseok, who only reads your texts but mischievously refuses to answer, and Junghwa, who probably doesn’t even notice the vibrations of her phone in her back pocket, you figure you have to stop Junghwa at school, because there’s no way Hoseok would listen to your pleas—especially when all he’d be busy doing is smirking at the way you’re wearing his sweater. And now that you think of it, there’s something else you have to take care of at school, too.

Stumbling into the familiar halls of your school, you’re fortunately able to encounter your two friends laughing and skipping down the halls right off the bat.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re alive!” Junghwa chimes, running to you and preparing to pounce only to have her motions halted by your arms which grips at her shoulders.

“Hey,” you breathe and smile, completely out of breath.

“Why are you in such a hurry? Do you miss us that much?” Junghwa giggles, tilting her head to laugh at your disheveled state. “We were on our way, you know. Sorry for being, like, two minutes late.”

“No, I-uh, actually,” you manage to say in between breaths, “have something to do.”

Hani comes walking up from behind Junghwa with raised brows, “what’re you doing here? I thought you were sick?”

You glance between your two friends, trying to formulate some sort of excuse as to why you had ran out of your house with your red nose and flip flops—especially in this freezing weather. But as your mind scuffles for an explanation, you find yourself staring at the three very people you’re looking for as a side mission—Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung; other than explaining what on earth you’re up to at school, there’s a scolding waiting to be let out to those three boys milling around at the end of the hall.

“I have to do something really quick… I don’t think I can hang out tonight. Let’s all crash at my house another day, alright?” you mumble, walking past your confused friends before whirling around to wave them goodbye. “I’m sorry! Really! Let’s watch some TV tomorrow! And don’t go to my house tonight!”

“Y/N! What’re you talking about?” Junghwa calls out to you.

“Where are you going?” Hani questions.

“I’m sorry, I’ll explain everything tomorrow!” you apologize, giving them one last wave and turning around to jog down the hall until Junghwa and Hani shrug it off and turn down the opposite side of the hall.

As you jog down the familiar pathway leading to the dance club’s practice room, Taehyung is the first one who catches sight of you with pleasantly surprised eyes, the other, however, stare with frightened, wide eyes.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here!” Taehyung chirps, waving his hand at you.

Crossing your arms and letting out one loud huff, you stand before the three, completely unamused by their welcome.

“Haha… Y/N… you’re here,” Jungkook smiles weakly.

“Yeah, welcome back,” Jimin mumbles with a shaky, hesitant laugh.

“Wanna help us with some boot camp paperwork?” Taehyung asks and the other two shoot darting death glares at him. “Wait, what?”

“No, I don’t want to help you with ‘paperwork,’” you tap your foot against the ground. “Because last time, paperwork meant spending time with a certain someone and not actual paperwork!”

“Y/N, we’re sorry!” Jungkook drops onto the floor along with Jimin, the two of them grabbing your arm and pleading for forgiveness as Taehyung cluelessly joins them. “We’re desperate to have our captain back! The boot camp and showcase are coming up, and without Hoseok, we’re barely getting enough sleep for preparations!”

You roll your eyes, “you could’ve just told me and we could’ve figured out some plan, because literally nothing came out of yesterday. He ignored me every time I brought up the club.”

“Oh…” the three of them throw shifty glances at each other, unsure of what to do now that their last resort has gone to waste. “Well… will you at least forgive us…?”

Pursing your lips, you shrug before attempting to turn away only to have the three of them pull you back around.

“We actually brought someone here for you!” Taehyung blurts out and you quirk a brow. Jungkook and Jimin follow along with Taehyung, placing their hands on your shoulder and gently ushering you towards the entrance of the practice room.

And to your surprise, the first thing you see elicits a flash of memories rewinding up from present day all the way back to that one regretful day where things could have changed drastically; because standing right there is the previous dance captain, not Hoseok, but Keiko.

“You’ve wanted to ask her some stuff, right? You’ll forgive us now, right?” Taehyung begs, swinging your hand back and forth.

Glaring at the three boys staring at you with wide eyes and pouty lips akin to a puppy, you take a deep breath and sigh. “I was just joking around. I’m not that mad at you guys, and I don’t actually need to talk to her—”

“Hello,” the girl greets enthusiastically with her sleek, velvety voice. She glances over as she goes over her usual stretching routine. With her short hair which brushes just a few inches above her shoulders, you can see the toned muscles of hers from under her black sports bra and above her black leggings. If this is the girl Hoseok is rumored to have a crush on, utilizing you to elicit some jealous response from, then you aren’t too surprised. She’s perfect and intimidating in every way… except for when she speaks, because the moment she welcomes you, an outsider of the club, you’re reminded of the bright smile Hoseok had once welcomed you in with. “Is there something I can help you with that those few gentlemen can’t?”

“Oh, um—”

“Go on, go on, we believe in you, Y/N!” the three boys from behind you whisper before gently pushing you into the room and closing the door shut behind you.

You’re just about to whirl around and give the mischievous boys a good smack on the back when a raspy chuckle comes tumbling from Keiko’s lips. “Ah, don’t mind those boys. They’re a little bit out of their minds right now because of camp preparations. I’ve heard things are going a bit rough around here, so I decided to drop in and help,” she smiles at you, “but I see things are going better than I thought now that you’re around.”

“Ah, no… I don’t really do much…” you press your lips shut and hide your fidgeting hands behind your back.

She raises her brows curiously, “oh? Well, they seem a lot more cheerful around you. It’s almost like they’re around Hoseok—”

“That’s,” you nearly cut her off and she glances at you with wide eyes, encouraging you to continue. “That’s… actually what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Well, then ask away.”

“I-um…” you beat around the bush, gulping when you notice how her eyes never left your shifty ones. “I was just wondering what happened to Hoseok.”

“What happened to him?”

“Why he left… or why he’s not dancing anymore,” you reiterate. Peering up at her, you find Keiko staring blankly at you as if looking for an answer to a question the three boys have probably already asked her several times before.

After a deep breath, she sighs, “I don’t know. You’re going to have to ask him that.”

“Are you still in contact with him…?”

“...yes,” Keiko replies after a few seconds of silence.

The clock ticks in the background and you’re not sure if the pounding of your panicking heart echoes along in the thin air. Everything about her intently watchful eyes and her short answers tell you there’s something wrong about this entire situation. Whether you’re invading personal privacy or she’s uncomfortable with this topic, you’re unsure of; but there’s one thing you know for certain: the transition of her mien between warmth to cold tells you there’s not much to prod further.

“I mean… can’t you ask him what’s up? Or help him with anything…?” you hesitantly ask.

“Are you one of those girls who used to watch him dance by the door every now and then?” Keiko suddenly questions and you look up at her with wide eyes. “Do you know him personally?”

“I… sort of do.”

“Well,” she tries to explain, “there’s not much I can do, really. I can ask him what’s wrong, but what do I do after that? He’ll come back when he’s ready. If he’s truly a dancer, then he’ll eventually find his way back to the stage. I don’t think he needs anyone to remind him or push him. If he’s ready to move on, then shouldn’t we, too?”

She’s right and Hoseok’s right.

Maybe you really are the only one buried in the past. Maybe you do need to move on. Maybe you’re the only one stuck in the shadows of the passing sun, a bygone which has yet to be seen in the near future—or perhaps, a bygone long past and set and carved and etched into history. And if you don’t move on from the past and into the present, perhaps you’ll just become another bygone of the ever rising and setting sun.

Everything she says points in that very direction, that you need to move on and stop fiddling with things of the past. But when she speaks her next few words, there’s a hint in her voice that tells you otherwise, that tells you to hold on because there’s no one but you who can.

“But hey, who knows. Maybe he really does need someone. Maybe he needs you. I hope you’ll stay by his side, and when the time really comes, when he needs someone to hold onto for dear life because time just never seems to stop and all he needs is something steady to hold him up, I hope you’ll be that very pillar he needs to bring himself back up onto his feet and finally confront the past the both of you so want.”

She walks her way to the door while tying her hair up, allowing the boys to enter the room, but not without grinning at you with an edge of hope etched into her statement and leaving you cluelessly behind.

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