this is the foretold messy chapter so... you've been warned. read with caution.

(finally some ot9 interaction, i've been   w a i t i n g   for this tho)

(also there's a not-at-all-hidden reference in this chapter that i couldn't resist shoehorning in because i'm dumb and i like to make that abundantly clear to everyone :D)

enjoy~

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When Minho and I walked in the front door, no one was there to greet us. I could hear them whispering amongst themselves in the kitchen.

"He's here, he's here, everyone shut up, don't panic!"

"You're the only one panicking, Felix."

"Why isn't anyone going out there to meet them?"

"The 'parents' should probably do that, right?"

"Yeah, they should... oh shit, that's us!"

Haseong and Chan shot into the room, stood by the piano like grand statues. Chan was wearing his wolf hoodie. I honestly wasn't surprised.

It was a lot of introductions and hand shaking. Minho was speaking in a humble voice he'd never used with me before. Changbin and Felix came next, and that went about as well as it could have. Felix nearly tore his arm off, and Changbin eased the room until Minho was pitching into my side. Seungmin, Jeongin and Hyunjin topped it all off by hugging him and making a vampire joke. My ears were buzzing.

Jisung. Haseong caught my attention. Felix says there are nomads coming. Today, tomorrow, the next day, it depends. We have a plan to point them east. We need you there. Make sure Minho is safe.

I nodded. The only reason I didn't panic was Changbin's mental drugging. This hadn't happened in years, not since we'd arrived in Forks. We had succeeded in steering visitors off course before, but the times when we'd failed stayed with us. We loved the towns we lived in, remembered the people who were kind to us. We would attend their funerals, knowing the truth of why the caskets were always closed.

Minho was scanning the room while I thought. His eyes landed at the edge of the room, on the piano. Chan noticed and decided it would be a tiptop opportunity to ruin my life.

So I played for Minho. My brothers stood behind us, giggled and whispered too quietly for Minho to hear, did the running man even when I transitioned into a slow song. Haseong herded them out of the room.

"Can I hear one you wrote?" Minho asked. "By yourself?"

I had so many songs — about everything from flowers to self-loathing to music itself. But I also had a song about him, inspired by him, composed for him. He was sitting right next to me, eyes curious and open. I wanted to share it with him.

But it wasn't just a love song. It was brooding, preemptively grief-stricken. There were even lyrics to make that abundantly clear. This was exactly the kind of shit Minho didn't want to hear from me.

I closed my eyes and spoke, knowing it was going to go wrong and doing it anyway.

"Do you want to hear the one I wrote for you?"

"Yes! Please!"

I started playing again. I didn't dare sing the lyrics, didn't dare open my mouth at all. I couldn't hear the music — I was concentrating on his vitals, that solid beat in his chest, more beautiful than any melody I'd ever written.

His heart sped up as the song slowed down, and his breath grew shallow. His hands clutched the bench. He didn't seem to notice any of it — rather he stared at my hands, followed them, all of his attention focussed on the music.

Four minutes and twenty-three seconds later, my fingers slowed and stopped on the keys. I gathered enough courage to look at him.

He shook his head. And again. "That's beautiful. I love it."

Something in my expression must have encouraged him to keep talking.

"It's... sad. Do you, I dunno, wanna talk about it? Why it's sad?"

"The answer is sad."

"We can still—"

"Let's not talk about it, my love. I wanna be happy with you."

His eyes were narrowed but he nodded. He took my hand and held it tight.

"Okay. Can I see more of the house?"

"Of course." I got up and pulled him with me. "Um, I guess I'll start here. This is Haseong's bread maker. He tries to make bread with it sometimes."

"You're a terrible tour guide." Felix was suddenly between us, our arms over his shoulders. "I'm taking over. Here we have an old-ass clock. It doesn't work, it's pretty banged up and soaked — but hey, what else would you expect from a clock you found on the Titanic?"

"On the what?" Minho squeaked.

"This is a painting Jisung made in forty-two," Felix moved on. "You'll notice it looks strangely Picasso-ish, and that's because Jisung lacks originality."

"Felix."

"He was all like 'I'm gonna draw my future like Picasso—'"

"Over here," I enunciated, "is a restored part of the house because it caved in a year ago when Felix thought it would be cool to walk around in hollowed-out walls."

"And I was completely right." Felix pulled back a strip of wall, stepped inside and disappeared.

"I'm sorry about him," I said.

Minho took my hand again. "It's nice."

"What is?"

"Your painting. It's not good, but. I like it."

"You're too kind, my love."

He shrugged and gestured to continue.

I led him to the other wall. "This is a collage Hyunjin and Haseong made. Every time we start at a new school, one of us purposely flunks so we can spend an extra year wherever we've set up camp. It isn't my turn, but I'll probably fail anyway."

"Got a lot on your mind?"

I kissed him quickly. "One thing."

We walked into the kitchen. "This is the kitchen. Haseong does his couponing here."

Haseong snipped an Applebee's twofer deal out of a newspaper and said, "Extreme couponing, son."

"What makes it extreme?" Minho asked, eyeing the stacks of paper.

"I choose to believe it's the attitude with which a person does it."

"Um. Inspiring."

Chan came in the back door and shimmied out of his rain coat. "I think the marmots are back in the chimney, Ha— oh, hi, boys."

"Carry on," I said, pulling Minho's hand, "we're just doing a house tour."

"Ooh, house tour! We'll come with you." Chan led the way, arms extended. "This here, Minho, is the staircase. You can walk up it, down it, whatever tickles your tonsils."

"Chan, you can not talk, if you want," I said.

"Nonsense." He hopped up the stairs. Haseong, Minho and I followed. "This is our room. Here's my side" — Chan pointed at the claustrophobic, paper-littered side, and then at the just-as-overcrowded-but-slightly-more-orderly side — "and that's Haseong's."

"What's that?" Minho asked, pointing.

"It's a seismograph." Haseong took Minho by the shoulders and led him up to the instrument. "It's for recording earthquakes. The needle moves and draws on the paper, and then I take it out and pin it up on that wall." He pointed at the wall that exhibited nearly a year of seismic dormancy.

Felix burst out of the wall and shook the dust off himself. "Guys, Minho doesn't wanna talk about science all day." He towed Minho out of the room — I followed close behind.

"It's geophysics," Haseong called after us.

"This" — Felix hoisted his hands high in the air, gave a few twirls, and raised one eyebrow at Minho — "is my humble abode. And Changbin's."

"Hey," said Changbin, standing in an empty corner.

Felix flopped down on a chaise lounge. "Minho, what would you do if I dared you to sit on the bed?"

Minho narrowed his eyes, trading looks between us. "Is... it safe?"

"It's safe," I said. "It's stupid but it's safe."

Minho sat down gingerly on the purple velvet bedspread — and jumped right back up again. "Jesus Christ, what the hell is that?"

"It's a waterbed!" Felix exclaimed. "I go to unwind and end up sailing the high seas."

"It's weird," said Minho, poking it.

"That's one part of the eighties I'm willing to leave behind," Hyunjin said, coming up next to me. "One."

"Two," said Seungmin.

"I do not regret the high-waisted jeans."

"Cookie, stop defending them, they were up to your armpits."

Jeongin appeared, too, and ran up to Minho. "Minho, I have to show you something!" He pivoted and dashed away, and the rest followed. Minho caught my arm on the way out and tugged me along.

Jeongin opened the door to the room where we kept our robots. "Have you heard of our... hobby?"

"Oh, hell yes." Minho put his arm around Jeongin. "Tell me all their names."

"No, no, no, no." I blocked the door with my body. "Jeongin, do not say a word."

We have joint custody of these robots, Jisung.

"Please?"

He sighed and turned to Minho. "Do you know Crime and Punishment?"

"Uh, not really."

"Then you probably won't think it's funny anyway."

I closed the door, and Minho was there, outraged, when I turned around.

"You can't tell me just one name?"

"Afraid not."

"At least now I know you watch crime shows."

I snorted.

"As if Minho is interested in a bunch of toys," Changbin scoffed. "He's obviously a man of more mature tastes."

"They're not toys," Jeongin said. "And stop being such a kiss-ass."

"I am not being a kiss-ass! Minho, come this way." Changbin skipped to the last door, opened it and led the way up the flight of stairs. The nine of us squeezed into a cramped eggshell-white room.

"That's the hatch to my watchtower." Changbin pointed up. "Big things get done in there."

"And small things do them," Seungmin said.

"Oh, grow up."

"You first."

"Both of you, stop it." Chan looked apologetically at Minho. "They're not usually like this."

"Yes, we are," Changbin said.

"Okay, okay, it's my turn now," Seungmin said. "C'mon, Minho, I'll show you the garage."

"Wait." Haseong's ears perked up. "Is that the chimney? We turn our backs for one goddamn minute!" He bolted down the stairs, rolling up his sleeves. The rest followed, shoving each other to get ahead.

"Run, Mr. Rabies, run!" Hyunjin screamed.

"But I didn't get my turn!" Seungmin whined.

Minho tagged along without a look at me.

"Wait, love, let's stay inside," I said, catching up.

"But stuff's happening outside."

"It might be dangerous, I don't want you getting in the line of fire — besides, it's a gable roof, you could fall off."

"I don't wanna go on the roof, weirdo, I just wanna watch." He pattered down the staircase and pivoted into the kitchen.

"You really wanna get in on their stunt?" I called.

"You don't?" He left through the back door, spun and backed up till he could see the roof. I grudgingly stood beside him. The other seven were on the roof, silhouettes balanced one by one atop the very peak. Haseong was upside-down in the chimney, Chan holding his ankles.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Minho asked.

"Yeah, he's good at stuff like... this."

Chan pulled Haseong out — coughing soot, carrying two little marmots by the napes of their necks.

"Are... are those beavers?" Minho murmured.

"They're pests, actually," Haseong called down. He passed the little ones to Chan — who passed them to Felix, who passed them to Hyunjin — and dived back into the chimney, fishing for more.

"How are we gonna keep them from coming back?" Jeongin asked.

"We should make a fire, smoke 'em out," said Felix.

Hyunjin gasped, holding the marmots away from him. "That's inhumane!"

"What are they saying?" Minho whispered to me.

"Felix is suggesting we cook them."

"Am not!" Felix screeched.

"Minho, you wanna pet a marmot?" Hyunjin shouted.

"Sure!"

Hyunjin slid down the steep roof, dropped twenty-five feet and landed in front of us. Minho's eyes widened for an instant, and then dropped to the baby marmots. He got distracted.

"They might have lyme disease," I said nervously.

"I don't care." He scritched the runty one behind its ear.

"This is Blanche and this is Dorothy," Hyunjin said.

"Are they named after a TV show, too?"

"Yes, actually. You know Golden Girls?"

"No?"

"I get that you're young, Minho, but don't you have taste?"

"I'm almost eighteen," he sniffed. "And my taste is impeccable."

"Jisung would agree," Seungmin called.

Minho laughed. I dropped my face into my hands.

"We're gonna go deliver these li'l moochers to a new home," Chan said. "You two sit tight."

"Bye bye, Minho." Hyunjin waved one of the marmots' paws. The seven disappeared into the forest. Minho watched after them and then turned his eyes back up to the roof.

"Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry about all that." I took his hands in mine and held them to my forehead. "They were passing you around like a hot potato."

He laughed. "It's okay, Jisungie. I wasn't expecting a normal meet-the-family kinda thing. It's really cool to, you know, learn more about you, where you come from." He pulled my hand and led me inside as if he knew the place better than I did. "I wanna see more."

"All... right. Actually, I think I know what to show you."

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my favourite part of this chapter has to be hyunjin's high waisted jeans. when i try to picture it my weird brain goes to that "drake photoshopped really short with ambient throat singing in the background" vine. idk why.

so i was listening to the songs some of you recommended, and i had this epiphany: you guys made these recommendations with my story in mind, totally unattached from the person i am irl. i never thought i'd create anything that would take on a life of its own the way (i think) daybreak and nightfall has. i really want to thank you all for reading, commenting, recommending, but really I'm just so happy you even give me a moment of your precious time every monday. i'm so grateful :3

speaking of song recommendations — an amazing segue right there — this week's song is...

TheFatRat - Oblivion (ft Lola Blanc)

i think this song fits the chapter well because the chorus is very chaotic and all-over-the-place, but the lyrics are grounded in love. when you think about it, jisung DOES end up taking minho to "oblivion," in a way... 👀 hope you like it too🖤

see you next week!