inneedofsupervision

[inneedofsupervision]

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 15)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

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Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

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Chan feels his mouth grow dry.

Soonyoung is still looking at him, his sharp eyes visibly wandering up and down on him.

He feels like a rabbit thrown into the tiger's den.

What makes Chan back away slightly, trying to cover the movement by shifting his weight from one foot onto the other, were not Soonyoungs watchful eyes. He isn't sure if Soonyoung is aware of his magic sizzling around them, not seeming to know boundaries.

Its presence goes off strong enough that Chan feels like standing near a high-voltage line, waiting for a flashover to hit him. Was Soonyoung aware of his magic straying around them, or did it happen because he couldn't control his strength?

The latter stood confident next to Wonwoo, a somewhat challenging gaze thrown his way. Whatever the reason was, Chan had never felt such a strong presence of magic from a human before. It reminds the younger teen of a theory he had read some time ago.

It said that a person's character mirrors their abilities, hinting that certain personal traits influence one's magic. At that time, Chan had thought not much about it as he hadn't gotten a chance to witness different kind of people and their magic. 

At the mansion, his teachers stood under the command of suppressing their magic around him, a rule his mother had set up after Chan had been curious about why his teacher's magic felt so foreign. Growing up without any social interaction other than the handful of people he knew, since he was a young child, Chan got constantly overwhelmed by the massive flood of magic whenever he was at school.

There had been days when he sat almost numb in his chair, unaware of the concerned glances Seungkwan and Vernon threw at him, the sensory overload sucking the energy out of him. It had been hard not to get overwhelmed by the excessive amount of humans letting their magic stray, either because they were unaware of it or simply because their bodies were not far enough to control it.

It almost felt like he lived without sound before, only to get thrown into an environment where everyone played their cacophony. Of course, it had to be on the highest volume, with the impression that no one could hear it, with the distinction that instead of sound, it is the force of the other people's magic impregnating the air. It keeps hitting Chan's subconsciousness without a pause, demanding a lot of the boy to control his magic from leaking at the constant contact. 

Just as the saying goes, opposites attract each other Soonyoung's blindingly bright energy keeps pulling Chan towards him like a moth drawn to light. But not like a moth unknowingly to the danger awaiting it, Chan could sense a threatening intent behind the alluring brightness. He cannot pinpoint what exactly feels so wrong to him, but something is lurking inside the blond's energy that tries to constantly tug at the dark magic hidden only behind the thin barrier of Chan's skin. 

"An interesting place to meet again, isn't it, Chan?"

A shiver runs down Chan's spine. A rain of sparks goes down around him like a shower of shooting stars as Soonyoung steps closer, a grin playing over his face. The hair on his arms and neck stands up when he gets hit by small pieces of Soonyoungs energy, his magic bubbling under his skin, begging to be let out and get a taste of the unknown power.

Chan was sure Soonyoung had not held that much power the first time they met. Or had he been so intimidated by the situation that he missed it? He could not believe he would be blind to such a strong display of energy, but maybe Soonyoung had only controlled his magic better at that time. 

Wonwoo stands between the two students, glancing from one towards the other, unaware of the powerplay around him. He had noticed Chan's posture growing stiff when Soonyoung directed his attention to him, growing slightly concerned as he had not seen the young boy this nervous before. It almost looked like Chan was scared of Soonyoung, and Wonwoo could understand that his classmate came off strong with the show he had just presented to the younger student. Stepping closer, Wonwoo takes the chance to put a hand on Chan's shoulder.

He didn't expect the black-haired teen to jump slightly at the action, swallowing the apology to not make the situation awkward for the younger. Instead, Wonwoo gave Chan a reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder lightly before gesturing towards Soonoung, who raised an eyebrow at him in question. 

"Do you two, by chance, already know each other?"

The bespectacled teen waits for a response while Chan thinks of the best answer to get out of this situation as soon as possible. Seungcheol had promised to keep his friends out of Chan's business. But witnessing Soonyoungs temper and character up close, he wouldn't be surprised if the blond senior was the exception he didn't need. He didn't like the grin that found place on Soonyoung's face. Chan was about to answer when the blond cut him off by pointing at him. 

"We met in the hallway before. But we have not been officially introduced."

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at that.

"Officially introduced? You have never needed that before, as far as I know." 

He feels Chan's shoulders visibly relaxing under his hand when Soonyoung stops looking at him, his attention drawn to Wonwoo instead. 

"I can have class too. You make me seem like a delinquent," protests Soonyoung. If Chan weren't as intimidated by the blond, he would consider if the pout appearing on the older boy's face could be called funny.

"Ever cared to look into the mirror?" teases Wonwoo with a laugh.

Sensing that this was his chance to go as Soonyoung was ready to open his mouth to argue with his classmate, Chan took a small step back, ducking away under Wonwoo's hand.

"I still have some homework to do. Thank you for the help, Wonwoo-Hyung. Have a nice day."

He nods towards Soonyoung, not to be rude towards a senior student, before taking a big sidestep around the blond, dashing out of the library. Before reaching the door, Chan turns and waves goodbye before vanishing into a crowd of entering students. 

Wonwoo shakes his head at the sudden departure. He turns to Soonyoung, who is still staring after the younger student. Wonwoo dismisses Sooynoug with a sigh, picking up the last few books. 

"What's with that sigh?" asks Soonyoung, haven caught the frown on Wonwoo's face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Since when have you been someone who cares if his actions cause inconvenience to others?" counters Wonwoo without looking at the other. Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at the words. He picks up a book that has fallen further away, handing it to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo takes the book, his eyes wandering up when Soonyoung does not let go of it instantly. Soonyoung takes the chance to be serious, holding eye contact. 

"Have I angered you?"

"You could have been a bit nicer to him."

A thoughtful expression appears on the blond's face. Soonyoung tilts his head slightly, confusion written on his face. "You mean to the guy who stared at you?"

Wonwoo let go of the book to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Not him. I mean Chan. You have intimidated him."

Soonyoung mouth forms into a silent "o" as he nods to himself.

"I see. Is that the reason Chan is allowed to call you  Hyung ?"

A sly grin finds its way on the blond's face as he leans onto the counter, pointing the book still in his hand in his friend's direction. "You have a soft spot for that kid."

"Don't call him a kid. You don't look any older, Soonyoung," is all Wonwoo answers as he pushes his glasses up with a roll of his eyes. 

"What do you mean? Have you seen him? I look way more mature. Yah, don't go!"

The blond walks after Wonwoo, shocked by being this easily ignored by his classmate. Neither of the two students had noticed the curious gaze thrown upon them from the floor above.

A figure clad in a dark hoodie that hangs low enough to cover its face from straying gazes watches them, leaning with his arms crossed on the rail. Fingers dance absentmindedly over the metal as the person purses their lips, shaking their head at the sight under them.

"Thankfully, that's not my business."

With a shake of their head, the person puts their headphones back on, humming to themself after successfully blocking Soonyoung's sounds of protests echoing through the library.

After hurrying out of the library, Chan's feet carry him at a quick pace toward his next destination, the gymnasium. He had promised Seungkwan to help him tomorrow after class and needs to set up a plan. The meeting in the library had messed up his timeline. Chan feels more stressed than before as he glances at the clock ticking in the hallway, the shorter hand nearing five. 

Knowing he lays behind in time, Chan couldn't help but dread tomorrow's meeting. He had been thinking a lot about what he could do to help Seungkwan out. But after searching for ideas, including hours of reading and looking through literature on magic duels, Chan kept hitting a dead end.

He appreciates Wonwoo wanting to help. The younger had felt the curiosity seeping out of Wonwoo, who had kept quiet, but Chan could tell Wonwoo was glancing at the notes of the scribbles Chan left on his papers.

Although Chan had never been one to fight in duels on his own, in the mansion and now in the library, he had time to read much about the subject. There had been literature on contests held over the years. Some of them would have gotten forgotten if it weren't for someone taking pen and paper to document the event, preserving a moment of the presence for future generations. He also found more famous stories about familiar duels, pieces of literature still taught today, praised as the foundation of today's understanding of magic battles.

But knowing the history of dueling could only do so much to help Chan think about what he should teach Seungkwan.

He had no practical experience in the matter, and from what he had observed in class, Seunkwan didn't, too. The only guess in which direction he should go was that Seungkwan's defense seemed remarkably solid.

The teacher praised the blond student several times throughout the lessons for his quick understanding and actions when turning to blocking or repelling attacks. But this brings Chan back to the dilemma of what to do. The best thing he could think of was helping Seungkwan improve his offensive magic. From what the boy could tell, Seungkwan's most significant problems are stamina and sending attacks forward.

If Seungkwan wanted to stand a chance, he needed to get a duel over as fast as possible. There is too little time to train stamina to get a result that would increase his possibility of winning.

The problem lies not in Chan's inability to think of ways to improve Seungkwan's attacking skills. Well, it mostly does not. Attending classes for a few months helped the teen to get a general understanding of at what level a second grader's magic ability should stay. If he's being honest, it turns out to be lower than what he would have imagined from a high-class prestige school, but at the same time, Chan had to remind himself that he had no reference where a human's level of magic would lay either way.

He had nothing else to compare it to than the literature he had read or his magic abilities, and both did not help him right now. The most important thing for young students to master is the fundamentals. To get a feel of what it needs to understand how to work with magic, one of the first approaches students get through the curriculum with magic is elemental magic.

It is known to be the rawest form of energy and thus considered to give every beginner a feel of what magic is supposed to feel like. The biggest problem Chan faces with the task is the limited options he has to work with. After going through everything they had taught the students the last two years to get knowledge of what Seungkwan would be able to come up with on his own accord, Chan came to the sober conclusion that he couldn't do much. And that what he can do does not sit well with him. 

After Seungkwan had asked for his help, the three met after classes. Vernon had sat next to Chan, ordered by Seungkwan to take notes. The teen was scribbling something that suspiciously reminded Chan of a video with a cat wearing a tie and hat that Vernon had shown him, but he decided to stay quiet, trying to listen to Seungwan. 

"Attack is the best defense."

"And you want to do what exactly?"

Chan had been wary the second Seungkwan declared that he knew what to do, uncharacteristically optimistic. 

"I thought about this at home," began Seungkwan, expression all excited as he leaned closer to his friend. "Your way of explaining magic has been helpful the last time when had the group project. I feel like I can follow your directions better than the teachers."

"The last time I helped you, we destroyed a window," said Chan, sitting with a skeptical expression next to Vernon, who clicked his tongue at the counter but not turning his attention away from his doodles.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "That won't happen again. There are no windows inside the gymnasium." The blond reached over the table and took Chan's hand as the latter grimaced at the joke, not feeling like laughing at all.

"Chan, come one. Don't be a scaredy cat. Besides, I have already selected a couple of spells that I think are useful. See, you don't have to overthink. Just help me focus, and I won't bother you anymore."

Chan pulled his hand out of Seungkwan's hold. He rubbed his neck, not happy with where this was going. Sensing Chan's uneasiness, Seungkwan pushed his paper closer to him. 

"Look, if we manage to make these here work, I'll get out of your hair."

"You are not bothering me, I just-" the words stuck in Chan's throat. Following the line where Seungkwan was pointing at something on the paper had caught his attention. 

"Seungkwan, these are extremely powerful. Aren't you taking this a bit too seriously?" Chan had hoped to talk some sense into the blond. Thinking back at it, the boy had to admit that he didn't know much about his new friends at all. Seungkwan had always caught him as someone who plays safe, a cautious person who likes to stay in control. Finding not one but two high-level spells on Seungkwan's paper threw Chan off.

He knew that the other was ambitious, but after looking through all the exercises his classmates had gone through the past two years, Chan knew that those spells had not been part of their lessons. He had looked up at Seungwan with a frown drawn onto his face. 

"I'm aware, but if I want to stand a chance, I need to have an ace in the back of my hand. Please, Chan. If it doesn't work or gets dangerous, we stop, alright?"

It's a bad idea. 

Chan knew it and still thinks so, but Seungkwan had been looking at him with hopeful eyes and confidence that he could make it with Chan's help, that Chan felt like a villain if he said no. He didn't want to deny his first and probably last friends something, even if it made him uncomfortable. Friends need to help each other, right?

"Why does it have to be fire out of all things?" mutters Chan as he turns a corner, his nerves already blank before even setting foot onto the training grounds.

"It fitting for a loser like you to babble to yourself. Did you leave your pets at home?"

Chan's face grows hard as he suppresses the instinct of grimacing at the sight of Sejong and his group of followers lingering around the back of building three. He is nearly impressed with how no order is required for the students to take Chan in their middle. He gets held back by a firm grip on his arms and shoulders while Sejong takes his time flicking his cigarette skilled past the only trashbin in a range of twenty meters. He slowly made his way over, pulling his smartphone out of his back pocket before nearly shoving it into Chan's face.

"How do you explain this?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking ab-"

Slap.

Chan sucks his breath in sharply as a palm strikes him across the face. He counts to five inside his head, eyes solely focused on the ground under him. He should have seen it coming. Chan could only shake his head at his foolishness. On the day the participant list got hung out, he should have known that Sejong wouldn't let it slide, not being on the list. And to whose fault? If it weren't for Chan earning the highest score, Sejong would have been one of the participants, something the teen had looked forward to weeks before.

He went around and declared himself the winner of the second year before the tournament even started. With Chan not able to take actual part in the contest and narrowing down the number of participants, the mocking of Sejong behind his back had sent the teen into a fit of anger. Getting caught by his classmate whose spot he had stolen and who had been ridiculed by his classmates because of him, Chan wasn't surprised by the amount of hatred directed at him.

"I honestly don't know why I find you so incredibly annoying."

The arms that pinned him down let go, causing Chan to fall forward. He doesn't dare stand up. The beat-up teen keeps kneeling on the ground, gravel digging through his pants and into the underside of his hands. 

"Why don't you tell me, Chan?"

Chan barely manages to keep the hiss of pain trapped behind a wall of gritted teeth and tightly pressed lips as a boot stomps down on his hand. 

"What is it that makes you this annoying? There is nothing special about you. You have no influence, no money, and no one knows which hole you crawled out of, staining the prestige of the school with your filthy existence. I'm still wondering, who did you suck up to like a bat to get a place here? But there must be something about you sucking up to people. It seems to be a talent of yours."

Sejong chuckles at the last sentence, his friends tagging along, although Chan cannot pinpoint what they're amused about. He keeps kneeling in silence, hoping this also will end quickly. 

"Look at me when I talk to you," commands the teen standing over him. 

The pressure on his hand increases as Chan hesitates before lifting his head. Sejong holds his smartphone in his hands, glancing down at the image of the participant list with a scowl. His eyes shift towards Chan, expression growing even darker.

"Nevermind. Even your face is annoying." 

With these words, Chan's head got roughly pressed down, forcing him to stare at the ground with a clenched jaw as the hand got a firm grab of a fistful of his hair. 

"There is one thing I give you credit for, Lee Chan. You adapt quickly. Becoming a teacher's pet is one thing, but befriending the outcasts?"

The frown on Chan's face would probably earn him another slap, but he couldn't control his expression at the taunting Sejong threw at him. 

"That know-it-all Seungkwan is already fitting to befriend a teacher's pet like you, but when I saw you with the retard that doesn't speak? I couldn't hold back laughing," continues Sejong, with a hint of amusement swinging in his words. "It felt like watching a match made in heaven."

Sejong pulls Chan's head up, his lips next to the student's ear. It smells like peppermint and cigarettes. "Don't you think so too? Don't you all flock well together? A bunch of losers consoling each other."

His head got finally freed when Sejong stood up. The movement presses his shoe even harder down on Chan's hand. The latter squeezes his eyes shut to keep himself from making any noise. 

"Now, imagine my surprise when I heard who you also suck up to."

There is a pause, throwing Chan off as he waits for Sejong to finish. A deep sigh passes Sejong's lips before the student grabs Chan's hair again, pulling it back harshly. The determination Chan meets as he gets forced to look at his classmate gives him a foreboding that this won't be over soon. 

"You being stubborn is also fricking annoying." 

The venom drips from the words. Chan's breath hitches and a short scream escapes his raw-bitten lips when Sejong suddenly presses down on his hand. Not being able to handle it anymore, Chan's other hand darts forward, wrapping tightly around Sejong's ankle to get him to stop applying more pressure. Satisfaction carries in Sejongs laugh as he stares down at the student, wriggling in front of him, face grimacing in pain. 

"Jeon Wonwoo."

Sejong let the name roll down his tongue, carrying bemusement in his voice. He tilts his head to the side, acting as if he were deep in thought.

"Isn't that interesting?"

He looks down at the boy on his knees, still clawing at his ankle. Sejong grins at the sight before cheerfully going on.

"As you probably have noticed, being the nosy little thing you are, that four-eyed senior is somewhat infamous. Do you know what his nickname is, Chan-ah?"

Chan bites the inside of his cheek and vehemently shakes his head as the boot on his hand starts tilting on top of his hand as he doesn't react fast enough. 

"Ice Prince. It's so cliche but fitting, isn't it?" Sejong lets out a giggle before his face turns stoic the next moment, and he leans down, reaching out to grab Chan by the neck and press his face into the dirt.

"Do you know what they say about him? His mother likes to sleep around. You can ask anyone. They all know about the stories, who she hooked up with to get where she is now."

Chan feels the anger coming up at the words. He doesn't know how Wonwoo stands with his mother, but hearing the amusement with which the teen above him insults his friends and one of the most kind and accommodating people Chan had the honor to meet lets his blood boil. 

"They say she had let herself get touched by everyone, not just humans. Until now, they speculate who the Ice Prince's father could be, as his mother is still not married."

Sejong stands up, laughing. "He is truly the definition of a bastard!"

Snap it. 

The hold of Chan's hand around Sejong's ankle tightens. 

His vision starts turning fuzzy at the edges as the anger grows with every insult Sejong spits. 

Snap it.

Chan closes his eyes, taking a quiet shuddering breath. Sejong's voice begins to sound static in his ears as his pulse thumbs loud and quick inside his head. He has to force himself to hold back. 

"He always carries that cocky attitude as if he owns the world. In his first year, he flung someone during a lesson with one hit hard enough against the wall that his opponent had to go to a hospital. Concussion, two broken ribs, a broken arm, and a sternum, all without batting an eye. That's one cold son of a bitch. Maybe he's truly the spawn of a demon."

Snap it. 

"Always alone and acting like he can do whatever he wants just cause he has some library privileges."

Snap it.

"It should be no wonder that a Kwon is crazy enough to seek contact with someone like that. It takes one crazy bastard to know one, am I right?"

Snap it. 

"It's fun that out of all bastards, you chose that one. You have a peculiar taste in people, Channie."

Snap it! Snap it! Snap it! Snap -

"Sejong, we need to go!"

"You are lucky, Chan. But this won't be our last talk, my friend," says Sejong as he pats Chan's cheek with a bright grin before he takes the chance to stomp down hard. Chan's eyes widen at the movement. The boy couldn't control the instinct to pull his hand away. If the action had been a tad quicker than humanly possible, Sejong didn't seem to notice it, too amused by Chan's reaction.

"Are you scared?" he asks with a laugh, eyes glinting as he watches Chan. 

Chan swallows his answer and keeps kneeling, reddened hand cradled to his chest as he watches Sejong and his friends go. When he deems it safe, he stands up. Knocking the dust off his pants, Chan couldn't help thinking about what he had just heard about Wonwoo.

He knows nothing good comes of believing someone like Sejong. But something about it might hold truth. He had been a witness to how the other students avoided Wonwoo. He had seen the glances they threw at the senior student. 

"Come on, Chan. That's not important right now."

That's right. Chan had somewhere to be. He couldn't afford to daydream now of all times. Still shaken and confused by what happened, the beat-up teen walks to the gymnasium. The sun is beginning to set as Chan presses the door open.

Once inside, the young teen doesn't bother to turn on the lights as he dives his arm deep into his backpack to pull out the key for the door. After locking up behind himself, Chan takes the first door and walks through the changing room straight toward the arena. The glow of the light-spending crystals is dimmer today, but with a slight headache upcoming, Chan couldn't complain.

Not sure if it is his imagination or his subconsciousness telling him to let up from his plan, whatever it is, it gave Chan the feel that the sand makes walking harder today. But while it doesn't let go smoothly of his shoes, the boy wonders if it wouldn't be better for it to open and swallow him while he fights his way forward with heavy steps. He rounds the middle of the arena once, letting six metal cubes lay in the sand behind him to create a shield. He didn't plan to destroy any more school property with what he had planned.

Like expected, the wooden poles of today's training are still standing, arranged in a circle around the arena. Letting his backpack fall into the sand before stepping onto the island of paved sand in the middle of the trainings-area, the teen positioned himself in the middle of the circle, back facing the entrance. There are thirteen poles, some sooty from the lessons while others are unharmed. 

A dull throbbing behind his forehead lets Chan stand still, probably the aftereffect of the earlier incident. He waits for the sensation to stop, but the pressure doesn't seem to go that easily. Feeling defeated, Chan decides to try ignoring the slight headache.

"You can do this, Chan. It's going to be fine."

Despite muttering to himself, Chan's voice sounds eerily loud inside the arena, leaving the boy scrunching his face in distress at the echo of his nervousness hitting his ears from all around. Swallowing the discomfort, he continues to tell himself the plan he had gone through hundreds of times these past days. 

"Concentrate, light up the fire, endure it." 

Taking a deep breath, the boy turns until facing one of the wooden poles. It is a new one, the wood still intact and had not felt the wrath of the fire yet. His arm slowly wanders up. His eyes focused entirely on the pole standing four meters from him. Having to remind himself to stay relaxed, Chan unclenches his jaw. He presses his pointer finger and thumb together.

Clack.

Chan breathes out, his heart beating fast at the sight of the pole burning brightly. With the first pole burning, Chan feels uneasy about letting it burn, but it is still bearable. His eyes fixate on the next wooden pole. He snaps with his fingers. 

It takes much of his willpower to turn away from the sight of flames hungrily licking at the wood, causing it to crackle and creak under the torment. Taking a moment to collect himself, Chan presses his middle finger and thumb together a third time. Once his finger-snapping echoes through the air, a new fire burns. The easiness of him setting something into a blazing mess causes the tightness inside his chest to grow. In the beginning, it had been light, just a smallish weight barely there, but with the counter of burning poles rising in mere moments, it got harder to ignore. 

"It's okay, Chan. You have to keep going."

The words come out carrying more unease than Chan liked to admit, but he keeps snapping his fingers, lightening up a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh wooden pole. The tightness had gotten a hold of his chest and throat, making breathing harder than snapping his finger. With only one wooden bar left, sweat glistened on the boy's forehead, which color had started to grow sickly pale. Only one left and he has almost made it. 

He needs to endure it. 

If he can endure it, he will overcome it. 

That's what the books have said. 

Right now, Chan doesn't feel anywhere near overcoming it. But he has to. How is he planning to help Seungkwan handle fire if he can't even bear the sight of it?

His chest feels like getting crushed at any moment as Chan snaps his fingers a thirteenth time, completing the ring. 

"I did it."

Euphory overcomes the teen, who stands with a heaving chest and into fists clenched hands in the middle of a firey storm, eyes closed shut. Behind fluttering eyelids, Chan sees the lights dance widely around him, the heat telling him it is not over yet. 

"I can do it. I can endure it." 

The words come out not louder than a whisper before the boy clenches his hands even tighter. With a jerk running through his whole body, Chan opens his eyes.

The sight in front of him punches the rest air out of his lungs. The fire had closed the gaps between the wooden poles, creating a ring surrounding him. 

Chan stands frozen amidst the fire. 

A thousand and one thoughts are running through his mind as he stares wide-eyed at the brightly lit arena. He cannot move a millimeter from his place in the center, held by an invisible hand choking the air out of him. Paralyzed in fear, Chan has to watch with increasing panic that the fire starts to grow a mind on his own, the circle drawing closer. 

"I need to overcome this... That's what all this is about, right? Face your fears, overcome them," Chan mumbles as his fingers fist his blazer, knuckles turning white.

How is he going to face Seungkwan if he cannot do this? 

He is in control. The fire cannot hurt him. He merely needs to endure-

Chan lets out a scream.

One of the wooden bars had yielded to the fire, crashing into another and taking it with them in their fall. Flames burst into every direction before the bar rolls to the side. 

The shock of the bar falling had been the last straw. 

Still gasping for air, the boy sinks onto his knees, panic having overtaken the last rational of thoughts. Unfocused eyes dash from one pole to the next, panic mirroring in dark eyes when every direction reflects the same picture of fire consuming whatever lies in its way. The teen curls into himself, fingers clawing into his arms as the instinct to shield himself takes over. The circle closes further around him, and the teen on his knees begins to shake as he feels like throwing up. 

"Stay back," pleads Chan, his body ready to topple over as the fear drains the strength out of him. The fire prevails on coming closer, deaf to his plea. The terrified teen could do nothing more than watch in horror how the flames saunt up to him without halt, ready to find something new to feast on. 

"I'm sorry Seungkwan. I can't, I-"

Another crash of wood and an explosion of embers causes Chan to throw himself down onto the ground, arms folded over his head and forehead pressed onto the sand. 

He had failed. 

He couldn't endure this. 

"I'm sorry," Chan whimpers, fear mixing with guilt as he had failed his first-ever friend. What was a friendship worth if he couldn't even contribute anything, not doing a simple thing a friend asks him to? He shrinks at every new crackling around him as he covers paralyzed on the ground. 

When a rain of sparks goes down on him, caused by another pole crashing down, the surprise of the sensation on his skin and the pure panic running through his veins cause the boy to let out a blood-curdling scream as he curls even tighter around himself.

"Somebody, please help me."

Chan's voice is barely a whimper as he shakes in his place on the floor. The hammering inside his head increases the more he fights for air, his breathing growing quicker as he tries to get more oxygen into his lungs, but never mind how hard he tries, Chan feels like passing out.

In his current state, the boy doesn't notice that the brightness starts to lessen around him. He is still fighting for air, trying to catch up with shallow and fast-paced breathing, deaf to the sound of something dropping with a dull thud before him.

There is a noise next between his heart beating like mad inside his chest and his pulse thundering inside his head. 

"You are going to pass out this way."

Chan hears the words, but in this state of mind, he cannot put any sense behind them, still covering the floor. 

"I'm going to help you up now. You have to slow your breathing. Is it okay to touch you?"

Even if he wants to answer, Chan has no air to respond. 

"I hope this is a yes," mutters the voice, sounding closer than before.

"Sorry," murmured the owner of the voice when Chan flinched as warm hands lay over his to help him uncurl. After peeling his fingers off his arms, he gets guided into a more comfortable position, the hands staying on top of his shoulders for support.

"Can you slow down on your own?"

Chan gives a weak nod. Sitting helps already, but the person counts for him nonetheless. It takes a few minutes with some encouraging words before Chan can finally breathe normally again.

"Do you think you can look at me now?"

Although he feels tired, Chan realizes that he has not seen the face of the person who had helped him until now. He was about to thank the other when Chan's head snapped up with insane speed as a terrifying realization hit him, causing the person in front of him to jump at the sudden motion. 

"Do you have to scare me like that?" asks the person that had seen Chan using magic. That had witnessed him doing something he was not supposed to be capable of. Wet, tear-tracks adorned eyes glare with an icey sharpness from under a fringe of dark tangled hair up at the student holding a hand out for him. 

As if the person had expected Chan's reaction, a knowing smile greets him as he finally catches the face of the person who now knows his secret. 

"Nice to meet you, face to face."

The smile reveals prominent but still perfectly formed canines, a sight swooned by girls and boys alike, that even if Chan lived behind the moon, would know of once he attended school longer than a month. 

"My name is-"

"Kim Mingyu," cuts Chan, the third grader, with a brisk tone. 

The other student purses his lips slightly as he tilts his head before the smile rears onto his face, a glint caught in his eyes as he stares down at Chan. 

"That's right. I'm Kim Mingyu. Since you know me already, want to make a deal?"

Chan feels the headache resurfacing at the sight of expectant eyes and a flawless business smile directed at him. 

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 14)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

Spotify-Playlist for this fanfic

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

"It's leaking."

Curious eyes blink at him from behind a dark curtain of tousled hair. It reaches down far, creating a thin line between appearing intended or delaying appointments for a cut week after week. His uniform also shows signs of not being taken care of regularly. Chan's appearance isn't untidy per se. It would pass any regular school dress code, but among the students spoiled from morning till evening, his appearance stands out, to say at least.

Chan does not seem to notice the glances he receives from his peers, leaving Wonwoo questioning if the teen had hit a rebellious state, doubting that his servants or parents would let him walk around with that kind of appearance.

Even the youngest students already know that in a school like this, your visual presentation of yourself will influence your status. There are a few exceptions. Students who are too rich to care about their reputation inside the school, but those particular cases are limited to a handful among hundreds. If you were to befriend these students, you might get away with it. But Wonwoo knows well that these students are not befriending anyone. They prefer to be around their own very exclusive circle.

Yet Chan does not strike him as the rebellious type.

When Wonwoo first met Chan, he looked more put together. It almost felt like the boy had forgotten to iron his uniform or comb his hair, which did not make much sense as that wouldn't be something the teen needed to worry about. He had staff to care about those. Wonwoo had witnessed cases of students getting mistreated by their servants, usually because of petty motives such as feuds between their parents.

As far as he knew, the identity of Chan's parents was still a mystery. But even with a schoolship, you had to be at least well off to get into this school. Even more, if you join in the second half of the year. Wonwoo raises his hand, pushing the round silvern glasses sitting on his nose up by their bridge. It is a mystery to him how Chan manages to make him this intrigued in someone else life. There are a lot of questions that come up the longer he spends time with the student. 

"What did you say, Hyung?"

"Your pen. It's leaking onto your notes."

Wonwoo nods towards the sheet of paper, one corner already soaked with ink. He watches as Chan's eyes travel down slowly before growing wide at the sight of his notes starting to swim in dark liquid. The younger quickly pulls the pen away from the messed-up papers, grimacing as he watches some drops land on the table. With pointed fingers, Chan picks the sheet from the table and lays it on his pencil case, leaving it to dry. While the ink still spreads wider, unnoticed by the teen, he grabs his school bag and starts unzipping all the pockets in search of a tissue to clean the table. 

The little mess left a dark stain on the bright table's surface, and Chan didn't want to test what would happen if the library staff saw it. He is still waiting for a teacher to come by and kick him out. Despite Wonwoo inviting him there and telling him nothing will happen, Chan feels uneasy whenever someone glances at the working place reserved for the librarian. He had walked after Wonwoo, hesitant to enter the area behind the registry. The workplace itself is not grand. The four tables that got pushed together are all mismatched, as well as the few chairs standing around them.

Most of the place gets occupied by towers of books that seem to swing but stand still if you concentrate on them, only to start swaying again when your attention drifts away. Between some gaps, you could see the registry in case someone needs assistance. Wonwoo does not seem fazed by the untidy appearance at all.

He leads Chan calmly past the physics-defying book staples and under folder-buried trolleys, showing him where he can sit. Compared to the rest of the meticulously sorted library, one could go as far as to call it chaotic. 

While Chan rubs at the hardly off-coming stain, Wonwoo takes the ink-smeared paper, studying it silently. Chan had told him about a friend, who was seeking his help, but found it challenging to provide something useful. He tilts his head in silent curiosity, expression shifting ever so slightly as he scans the document before glancing at Chan over the edge of the writing.

Wonwoo wasn't one to seek gossip and groundlessly believe rumors, but working at the library, you cannot avoid listening to the stories shared on the other side of the shelves. He had guessed that Chan must be good at studying, as the talk about the mysterious new student wouldn't let up, although Chan had already been attending for months. With all that information in the back of his head, Wonwoo still found himself impressed, the content of the notes leaving him questioning if the teen belonged in the second year. Even though it is a collection of ideas thrown together without much thought, the understanding of magic is outstanding. 

The younger student is unaware of the watchful eyes, busy soaking the tissue with water off his bottle, hoping it would help. To his luck, the mess only grows bigger. The already blue and slightly torn tissue smears more and more of the color onto the table.

Wonwoo's eyes wander back and forth between the paper and Chan, tilting his head as he observes him struggling for a solid thirty seconds before going back to the notes. He shakes his head in wonder. If he had not been with the other while Chan wrote down his ideas, he would struggle to believe that those ideas were Chan's own. Coming from a second-year student, Wonwoo would have expected out-of-the-textbook spells and some counter-attacks.

But Chan went over and beyond his expectations. What lies before his eyes are written simulations of whole duels with several strategies leading to a quick win. Wonwoo puts the paper back in its place. He wonders if there lies a reason behind the tendency to focus mainly on defense.

Does Chan need help working on attacking?

Wonwoo furrows his brows in thought. From what he had read, it didn't make sense for the younger to struggle to find ways to use his magic in the offensive field. Chan clearly knows his way around magic. The student in question had not caught his notes being read, too busy making an even bigger mess. Taking pity on his junior, Wonwoo takes Chan's hand, efficiently stopping him from destroying more school property.

"I'll take care of it."

"I can do it myself."

Chan looks flustered as he gets gently pulled back to his seat. He wants to protest but misses the opportunity when he gets softly pushed down by his shoulders. Looking up, he finds Wonwoo with crossed arms, blocking his way, one eyebrow raised, daring him to stand up.

"Let me help you," says Wonwoo and pats Chan on the shoulder when the younger finally agrees. Chan kept sitting, although not pleased, as he watched the senior walking around to a small cabinet in the corner. 

"Why didn't you tell me they had those here?" asks Chan as Wonwoo walks back to the table with a package of wet wipes. 

"You didn't ask," answers Wonwoo cooly.

"Because I didn't know you had these!"

Wonwoo's lips tug upwards at the younger teen's flabbergasted expression while he pushes the wet wipes toward waiting hands. They work silently, Wonwoo taking a glance at Chan, who gives his best at getting the last bit of blue from the table. He notices that Chan carries that look of determination on his face.

Regardless of what he does, the boy takes everything with such responsibility that Wonwoo sways between being endeared and slightly concerned. When they finish cleaning up, Wonwoo holds his hand out for Chan. The confusion is apparent on the young face. Wonwoo takes Chan's hands before the other continues staring at him with furrowed brows. He starts wiping the boy's hands, getting rid of the ink. 

"Hyung, do you have siblings?"

Wonwoo stills, his hand hovering over Chan's smudged fingertips. The question catches him by surprise.

"I'm an only child."

"Really?" asks Chan, skeptical of the answer. The tone in his voice makes Wonwoo chuckle as he continues his work. 

"Why? Are you not believing me?" He looks up to find Chan observing him. 

"I would have thought you had at least one younger sibling," mutters Chan to himself, glancing down at their hands, sounding genuinely surprised. Standing this close, Wonwoo caught the words from the younger. A smile starts growing on his face. 

"Do I feel like an older brother to you, Chan?"

Surprised eyes stare up at him, a flustered expression overtaking the boy's face. It remains Wonwoo of a deer caught in headlights.

"I never said that," answers Chan, shaking his head vigorously.

Wonwoo's grin widens at Chan's reaction. It almost feels too easy to tease the younger. He watches the tip of Chan's ears gain a pinkish hue, getting darker as seconds pass by, where the boy visibly struggles to find words, mouth opening and closing again without bringing out a comeback. The sweet moment comes to a quick end as a shout comes from the registry.

"Jeon Wonwoo, come out!"

Chan instinctively pulls his hands out of Wonwoo's hold, eyes wide as he turns around towards the noise. He turns to Wonwoo in confusion. Chan had thought there wouldn't be anyone to actively reach out to the older student because of his image. He still does not know much about the latter, but Chan caught on enough to know that Wonwoo does not have much contact with his peers other than him.

To say that the loud voice calling for the senior in such a casual manner caught him by surprise would be a mild understatement. His eyes trail over to Wonwoo.

Chan's lips form into a silent "O" as he witnesses an expression he had not seen on the stern face before. He silently watches Wonwoo roll his eyes when the voice calls again, the owner sounding so full of themselves even though they could get kicked out of the library for being too noisy any second. 

Chan peeks carefully past the edge of a bookshelf, watching Wonwoo walking up to the registry. At the counter stands a person with their back to them. Chan frowns at the sight of sharply trimmed blond hair. He could swear he had seen the daring, almost provocative color on a student before. The piercings lining up the student's ear do the trick, triggering an unpleasant memory.

"I thought you wouldn't come." 

The student that Chan successfully confirmed as Jeonghan's friend turns around, earrings dancing at the motion. He had forgotten his name, but the cat-like eyes that turn narrow as a wide grin stretches over childlike features are hard to overlook. The student leans onto the counter with a grin promising no good. Despite the slight height difference, he doesn't seem intimidated by Wonwoo, the latter staring at him with unhidden distaste.

"And let you disturb everyone visiting the library?" asks Wonwoo.

"Ah, come on. Who am I disturbing?" counterquestions the other, putting on a show of pointing at himself as if not able to disturb anyone. With no sign of guilt on the blond's face, Wonwoo let out a sigh. He glances over the other's shoulder, checking the time.

"What do you want?"

The grin on the student's face grows broader, and with a confidence that comes almost off as complacent, he holds a hand near his mouth, whispering in a volume for everyone to hear. "A birdie told me that you and Jihoon went to the library. Together." 

"Animals aren't allowed onto the school grounds."

Chan grimaces in his hiding spot at Wonwoo's comeback. While he is wondering what exactly he is listing to, he feels a strange sense of sympathy for the person called Jihoon. He doesn't know who he is, but if Wonwoo was covering for them to prevent them from getting found by someone acquainted with Yoon Jeonghan, that person must have it tough. 

"Don't be like that, Wonwoo. Tell me where Jihoonie is."

"He doesn't like that name," say's Wonwoo instead, pushing his glasses up. 

"Come on, why are you this uptight? Just tell me." Chan watches the blond taking hold of Wonwoo's blazer, pulling playfully at the jacket while wriggling his eyebrows. The last time Chan had seen the teen, he had not time to pay much attention to him, but now that he saw him interact with Wonwoo, he was wondering how he had not noticed him before.

The hair color was enough to stick out like a sore thumb in the mass of dark-haired students. How rich or influential must your parents be for you to get away from looking like a delinquent despite a strict dress code? The contrast between Wonwoo and him is immense; with Wonwoo holding up his tidy appearance since day one, and his classmate, the latter didn't even bother to button his shirt up, jacket loosely hanging over his shoulder.

But it is not only about the looks. Now that Chan doesn't view the older student as a bystander, he notices the energy oozing out of the blond. He can see it before his inner eyes; sparks of bright yellow energy appear, from time to time, in close radios of the blond who seems to buzz on the inside with locked energy. Comparing it to Vernon, whose magic sticks with no primary color and lies like a barely visible haze around him, the power behind the student in front of Wonwoo is fast-paced and vibrant, letting Chan guess his personality must be just as intense.

Wonwoo unfolds his arms. He grabs the hand that is still tugging at his blazer. "Jihoon and I didn't leave class together, Soonyoung. Why don't you ask his seat neighbor where he could be?"

Soonyoung's grin doesn't flatter. He let go of the jacket without protest, only to wrap his hand around Wonwoo's instead. The latter grimaces, staring down at the intertwined fingers with mild disgust, and tries to pull his hand out of the hold. While Wonwoo struggles to pull himself free, the other glances up at him with a spark of amusement playing in his eyes. 

"I can't ask Junhui. His guard dog won't let me talk to him."

"I wonder why," mutters Wonwoo as he finally pulls himself free. Soonyoung's grin doesn't flatter, although Wonwoo shows clearly, that he doesn't want to talk. The blond only continues, nevertheless. He points at his classmate, finger hovering a few centimeters over Wonwoo's chest.

"I know you two are involved." 

Knowing he cannot avoid it, Wonwoo rolls his eyes. He looks at Soonyoung and opens his palm, gesturing for him to do what he wants.

"Go on then. Humor me."

Soonyoung jumps right into it. He leans onto the counter with a mad grin, words spilling out nearly too fast for Chan to follow. 

"It's now the fifth week of Jihoon disappearing after class. No one knows where he goes, but he's always back when the bell rings. The only people he talks to are his seat neighbor and you," Soonyoung points at Wonwoo, squinting his eyes at him.

"And that makes me a suspect?" asks Wonwoo, sounding skeptical at the poor reasoning. "What about Junhui then-?"

"Ah ah ah," sing-songs Soonyoung, holding his finger up and shushing Wonwoo successfully but not without earning himself a raised eyebrow from the taller teen. 

"Junhui wouldn't do something like this." Soonyoung nearly lies on the counter as he bends further, glancing from side to side before whispering behind his hand. "He is not the kind of person to make this work."

"Are you calling Junhui stupid?"

"Yah!"

Soonyoung reaches out to cup a hand over the taller teen's mouth to silence him when the other hand that he leaned on slips from the counter. The blond would have fallen face-first over the registry if Wonwoo hadn't reacted quickly, catching him by the arms. Wonwoo looks down at the teen that still lies with his legs on the counter, solely not on the floor because of him.

"Don't let me fall. Please?"

The taller teen shakes his head slightly but, with a huff, manages to pull Soonyoung back up. Sitting safely on the counter, the blond throws his classmate a grin before glancing around again, the first time Chan sees something close to nervousness on his features.

"Don't say these things loudly. Minghao is going after me if he hears us."

"Now you are tempting me," retorts Wonwoo dryly. Soonyoung's lips curl up at the comment. 

"Is that all of your evidence, or can I leave?"

Chan flinches at the sound of a manic laugh Soonyoung lets out, watching with a sense of uneasiness how a victorious grin took place on his face. Wonwoo merely takes a small step back, not faced by all the excitement, and Chan begins to wonder if that was a regular occurrence for the bespectacled teen. 

"There is still more," answers Soonyoung, a grin showing off his teeth. 

"Several people confirmed that they witnessed Jihoon going to the library in the past weeks."

"Are you sure they didn't say that because you bothered them too?" interrupts Wonwoo, but Soonyoung didn't let the comment affect him, continuing unbothered. 

"You and Jihoon are here at the same time." 

Wonwoo shakes his head in disbelief. "Soonyoung, I help out at the library. I cannot avoid being here."

Soonyoung's conviction doesn't flatter. "But Wonwoo, you were here more often in the past weeks. Around the same time as Jihoon starts vanishing into the air after classes. That's not a coincidence. I got you two!"

Soonyoung is back to tug on Wonwoo's blazer, the victorious grin raising his cheeks to his eyes that light up at the idea of having put the puzzle together. 

Chan watches Wonwoo shaking his head while Soonyoung laughs at the other, looking confident. He doesn't know what is happening between the two, and the more he listens, the more confused he gets.

All Chan had understood until now is that Wonwoo, Junhui, Soonyoung, and Jihoon, whoever that might be, must be classmates. But everything else didn't make sense to him as he had no context. Before he can get lost in his thoughts, Chan takes his eyes off the bickering pair as he catches some shuffling in the corner of his eye. A few students have started gathering around the registry, though at some distance, whispering behind their hands as they watched the two seniors. They probably got attracted by the noise.

Chan soon notices that he's not the only one who has caught on to the unintentionally drawn audience. Wonwoo's eyes skip away from the provocative grin and daring eyes of Soonyoung, darting between students, who avoid eye contact but won't move on from their spots. The whispering only gets louder as Wonwoo slaps Soonyoungs hand away that tries grabbing him again.

Chan observes Wonwoo's posture stiffen as the volume increases. It drew the attention of more people, who were passing by, causing the audience to grow fast. 

It had been a short moment of Wonwoo's attention drifting off, but Soonyoung caught it nonetheless. Sharp eyes scan the taller student's expression before he turns around. The smirk vanishes to give place for lips forming a tight line, eyebrows drawing together as he finds curious gazes boring into his and Wonwoo's heads. 

"Yah. What are you staring at?"

Soonyoung takes his blazer and tosses it at Wonwoo. The latter breaks out of his paralyzed state to catch it, mouth opening in protest as Soonyoung strides over to the watching crowd, who shuffle around with the blond senior approaching fast. Now that Chan knows that Soonyoung, Junhui, and Wonwoo are classmates, he realizes that the blond is short compared to his classmates.

But despite his height, Soonyoung draws all the attention as he rubs the back of his neck in annoyance before he comes to a halt in front of the students, an icy glare set up. With the bit of baby fat adoring his cheeks Soonyoung shouldn't seem this intimidating. But a glance with his sharp-cut eyes is overwhelming enough for the younger students to hug their schoolbags close to their chests, ready to dash past the senior.

"You," Soonyoung scanned the students before pointing at a male student, who Chan had seen standing there from the beginning. Had Soonyoung picked him on purpose, or was it a coincidence? Chan watches with growing interest how Soonyoung acts more and more different than he had seen him with Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Joshua. He had witnessed the blond being timid around his seniors and acting mad with Wonwoo, only to now look for a fight with some junior classman. Whatever side of the blond was real and which an act Chan couldn't tell, but one thing Chan knew for sure, he didn't want to be on the senior's nasty side. 

"Anything interesting to see here?" The tone of Soonyoungs voice holds no room for an answer. The student in front of the senior vehemently shakes his head, biting his lips together. He looks ready to flee the scene at any moment. Soonyoung opens his eyes slightly, feigning the surprise overtaking his face. 

"No?" he asks to confirm while taking a step closer, right into the student's personal space, with only a few inches keeping them from their noses touching. The student couldn't avoid the older, the way blocked by the crowd of people who wouldn't let him step back to avoid being the next target of the mad blond. Being cornered, he cannot do anything as Soonyoung grins, earning a jump from the other as he puts a hand on his collar. With a firm tug, the older student pulls, forcing the younger to bend down against his will, his ear right next to Soonyoungs in a satisfactory morphed grin. 

"Then screw off."

Chan watches with amazement how the mob of students scatter immediately. Soonyoung turns around after the last student stumbles over their feet to get out, carrying a smug grin that reaches up to his light-up eyes. He all but skips back to the registry, stopping solely to prop his head in his hands as he leans onto the counter, gazing up at Wonwoo with an expectant expression like a pup who waits for praise. The latter pushes his glasses up with a sigh. 

"That was not necessary."

The confident grin starts to yield, exchanging places with pouty lips as Soonyoung straightens up. 

"I know. I did it because I wanted to."

The blond's eyes scan over his classmate, his eyes lingering on Wonwoo's clenched jaw. 

"Hey. You're okay?"

Chan doesn't know why it surprises him as much to see concern wash over Soonyoung's face. He feels a tug of guilt for thinking the senior couldn't show consideration solely because he was a friend of Jeonghan. Soonyoung looks genuinely troubled as Wonwoo taken off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh. 

"I'm alright."

"Really?"

Chan takes Soonyoung's worried expression as his clue to step back behind the shelve, feeling like he was interrupting something he was not supposed to eavesdrop too. Shuffling back into the fully packed workplace, he rounded the table where his bag lays. The young student quickly packed his stuff and took his bag. When Chan peaks around the corner, he catches Soonyoung and Wonwoo standing at the registry. To Chan's relief, Wonwoo looked better, leaning against the counter, listening to something Soonyoung was energetically talking about. Deciding to wait until the seniors finish talking, Chan turns to look at the books standing on the shelves.

He skims over the book titles, wandering further to the side to read what's written on the back. The teen crouches to look at the books further down when his backpack gets caught in something.

The teen glances over his shoulder, searching for what is causing him to get stuck. His eyes travel until he finds the arched handle of a drawer hooked into the holder of his backpack. Tugging gently, he finds it stuck tightly. The young student stands up, twisting his bag to the side slightly. He pulls, and at first, he believes he needs to ask Wonwoo for help when the handle suddenly gives in, sending him staggering back. Chan's eyes widen as he flails, hands reaching out to stop his fall. He hits one of the book towers standing close to the entrance. Chan regains his balance but sends the tower into motion after hitting it.

Watching the tower sway, he quickly runs out behind the shelve, towards the tilting side of the book tower, the latter turning out to be taller than expected. The small student puts his hands against the books, but the weight has already bent too far. He finds himself with an armful of books as the rest of the literature falls with a spectacular quantity of noise onto the ground, surrounding the teen in a pile of books. 

"I'm not cleaning that up alone."

Slowly, very slowly, Chan turns around. His ears turn red as cherries with Wonwoo standing with crossed arms and an amused grin at the counter, having observed the whole scene with silent laughter. The older teen shakes his head with a smile as he heads over to his junior, crouching down. He takes a few books up, dusting them off with his hand before putting them on top of the books Chan is already carrying. He grins as Chan huffs at the added weight. With the smile still present, Wonwoo turns to Soonyoung, a smug expression taking over his features. He pushes his glasses up.

"Soonyoung, let me introduce you to Chan. Because of him, I'm spending more time at the library."

Soonyoung, who had watched the spectacle with wide eyes, turns his complete attention towards Chan. The latter swallows at the sharp stares that scan him up and down.

A moment of odd silence passes, in which neither Wonwoo nor Chan says anything as they observe the blond with growing anticipation. Soonyoung glances from Wonwo to Chan, pursing his lips. The blond senior tilts his head to the side with an expression of pure concentration on his face.  

"Youu-," begins Soonyoung and points at Chan, drawing the word out. Wonwoo and Chan hang on his lips with interest, waiting for what he has to say. Soonyoung grows silent, still holding his finger in Chan's direction, with his brows drawn in confusion. 

"You're not Jihoon."

Behind him, Wonwoo facepalms. 

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 13)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

Spotify-Playlist for this fanfic

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

Elemental magic is powerful.

In the textbooks, it is often described, as unpolished and raw power, needing a skilled hand to shape and take out its innate force.

Mastering an element has since long been viewed as one of the most glorious accomplishments for the Gifted, but only a few can get to the point claiming they have tamed nature. There are rare cases of people, who own natural talent for handling this type of pure-formed magic, praised as successors of a nearly extinct bloodline of legendary mages. 

When mages who held this talent grew rare, people feared a world where strong magicians would fade into a story of the past. They started to ask the Demons for help, which they had met with avoidance before. But the humans began to fear growing weak more than the unknown.

The day of the first magic stone created by a powerful mage had been a festive beginning of a new era for humans, believing they had found the secret to keeping their power forever. The secret behind the birth of a magic stone held dark magic. When words about it traveled over the lands and great oceans, humans began to turn to the Demons, the only creatures known to handle this brute force.

The Demons helped the humans first but gave a warning along with their guidance. The second you try to tame dark magic, it will devour your mind and body. Deterred by warning from the strongest creatures wandering on this earth, the humans took the words to heart and stopped to pursue crafting the dangerous stones. 

But where the light shines, shadows are soon to fall. 

There were few humans whose minds could not withstand the idea of a world of legendary magicians dying out. Driven by an ideological worldview, they strived for a glorious era to come once again. But their vision did not stop by creating magic stones to build a new world. They had higher goals to reach. They lived for the plan of performing a miracle, believing the creation had been a sign. To grow more powerful than any human mage had ever been. Stronger even than the demons they fear. They planned to accomplish the impossible, to tame the untamable. 

These humans wanted to master black magic. 

The Demons refused to help. They held no interest in the humans killing themself, trying to size more than able to handle. There merely wished to live in peace without fearing the world burning down under the hands of greed. But not all Demons started to avoid humans for their own sake. Some Demons found joy in seeing the humans destroying themselves while in the impression of the whole world in the palm of their hand. These demons offered their help, providing their assistance, gifting the humans their powers to let them do whatever they wished. With that much power put willingly into their hands, the mages felt ecstatic. 

Their greatest wishes got fulfilled, their power more splendid than ever before. But the downfall does not wait long. It creeps slowly into with greed clouded and corrupted minds, spinning and swathing the last sane of thoughts. Bodies crumble into stoned ash, souls burn as madness overtakes them, and the Demons feast on the foolishness put on display solely for their entertainment.

When word comes out about the crazed humans' deaths, the Demons apologize on behalf of their own, who let the misfortune carry on. But the humans could not believe it had been their men asking for such a deal to be made. Doubt arises under the mages and simple folk, questioning the words of the Demons. Voices rise, asking for justice as the Demons had enticed the human with venomous promises. The Demons couldn't deny that some of them were at fault for the mage's deaths, but before they could remind the humans, they had warned them long before the hunt had already begun. 

Far more Demons got killed off than humans who had made a  Pact with the Devil. 

Magic stones got collected and destroyed, and while Demons helped to get rid of them, humans still captured and killed the creatures who preferred living in the dark. Centuries came and went until Demons became nearly extinct. Hunting and killing Demons got forbidden and heavily punished, but the Demons have found ways to hide in the masses, adapting to the changes of the world and the people. While the fear of Demons and dark magic had never lessened altogether, humans have begun to study both, having more luck with the second as no sane Demon gave away their identity, branded by the past.

It gets to the point where Demons are treated like a myth, just like the legendary mages that had grown extinct. From time to time, words about existing Demons travel around the world. People started to protest for the rights of Demons. Laws get put into action to ensure the creatures who had once lived peacefully in hiding can live alongside humans in peace. They began to teach the new generations to be mindful, a precaution to avoid past mistakes and wrong judgments. But although all of this happened, the Demons sidestep the humans. They continued to hide among them, copying their mannerism and style of living until they mastered the art of masquerade. 

"At 01:00 p.m. spokesperson of the Department for Illegal Magical Artifacts and objects announced that the police are still investigating.

Two weeks prior, another case of prohibited usage of magic stones got reported to the police. An anonymous caller sent an around nine a.m. an ambulance near the outskirt of Gangnam.

The paramedics on site brought the man to the hospital immediately. The man suffered from severe side effects of potent dark magic in his system and is still unconscious, forcing the police to wait until they can take a testimony.

How the man got stopped while intoxicated and who called the hospital is still unclear. Concerning whether the man has something to do with the illegal trade of artifacts in January, the spokesperson of DIMAO stated there is no connection yet.

The public showed mixed reactions to the outcome of the press conference. While most are enraged about how the trades could happen after the new law enforcement at the beginning of December 2021, some are questioning the origin of the illegal stones.

The DIMAO has excluded the possibility of Demons involved. DIMAO director Kim Eun Hwon-"

The news anchor continues talking while Chan stares at the muted pictures. His hand is cold, clutching the remote to his chest as the report shows footage of a man lying in a hospital bed. They blurred his face, but even without zooming onto the wound where something had left a burn mark the size of a golf ball in the man's palm, Chan would have recognized him.

It's the same man that appears in his dream. The one whose laugh and the feeling of a hand around his neck leave him gasping for air as he sits straight in his bed in the middle of the night, cold sweat running down his skin and panicked eyes searching for a threat. While Chan doubts that the man will remember anything, he cannot stop but worry. Would the man mention a Demon attacking him? What if the police start to investigate the era, searching for him? 

A pair of familiar faces appear on the news, the woman and man walking with linked arms over a red carpet. Chan's mother smiles, and the gray dress hugs her body charmingly. The man on her side pulls her closer by the waist, giving her a loving gaze. He straightens his wife's perfectly fitting cropped blazer, and she throws him a blinding smile, leaning into his side as they act like they weren't swarmed by hungry cameras capturing their every move. 

"- even after two years of marriage, the still childless couple looks very much in love, leaving the public wondering when the time for an heir -"

The screen goes black, and Chan throws the remote onto the couch table. It slides off the table, the throw a bit too forceful, and lands with a clatter on the floor. He gets up and takes the book that lies on the couch. 

Chan reads on his bed for some time. The pages rustle under his fingers as he turns page after page. When the sun begins to set, the shadows in his apartment growing longer, Chan puts the book away. He rubs his eyes and closes them, hoping it helps against the pain that started to grow from a dull drumming behind his eyes to a throbbing that makes it hard to focus. The teen wonders what that feeling is. It took him a few moments before he realized he had a headache.

"This sucks," mutters the teen and rolls onto the side. He frowns as a sting shoots through his skull. Trying to ignore the pain, Chan thinks back to his meeting with Jun. If he is being honest, he feels like talking to Jun has almost been too easy. Jun had been alone in the art room when Chan came and softly closed the door behind him. He expected the older to ignore him or tell him to go, but Jun smiled at him instead, and although Chan smiled back, he felt unworthy of such a treatment. Jun asked why he came, and Chan used the chance to apologize sincerely. They avoided the topic of the burnt sweater. It had been apparent that Jun still held an interest in the matter but chose to leave it for Chan's sake. 

Rolling onto his back, the teen closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

A light blow of wind caresses his cheek. It gently tugs on his hair and the blanket covering him. He smells the hyacinths before he can see them. 

When Chan opens his eyes, a familiar starry sky welcomes him. The stars are playing tricks on his eyes, staying still in their places, but with one blink, it feels like there are more than before. The boy slowly sits up carefully. He waits for his head to hurt, but the pain never comes. A relieved sigh walks past his lips. His feet touch the grass-covered ground when he stands up. Chan eyes the blanket that covered him in his sleep. Thin fabric dances with the movement of the teen as he pulls it over his shoulders.

Something clear gets carried through the wind, a sound that feels unfamiliar in this place. The sweetness of the hyacinths hangs in the air, floating around Chan. The flowers bend slightly in the direction of the teen as he walks past, bowing to him in greeting. Not sure wherever the path behind the bench had always been there, he still follows, walking down the small hill. He hears the sound again, curiosity-fueling his walk.

"How-," mutters the teen under his breath in wonder. 

A tree standing in the middle of a lake comes into sight, growing larger with every step. Behind the crown, the night sky with all of its stars gently spends light. The windchime jingles again. This time its play gets accompanied by the rustle of leaves, and Chan closes his eyes, taking in the sound. A swing hangs down from a strong branch, floating over the tranquil water. Chan takes the last steps of the path until he reaches the lakeside. The blanket lies abandoned on the trail behind. 

The boy takes another step, bare foot hovering over the silent water. He keeps standing there for several moments before moving forward. Under his feet, the water grows white, crystalizing into a thin layer of ice. The teen slowly sets his foot down on the frozen water. It stays in place, holding his weight. He takes another step forward, glancing at the small rocks in the water.

Before his feet can touch the water, it freezes again, letting Chan walk further. The color of the water grows darker with every meter he puts between himself and the lakeside. As the teen settles down onto the wooden swing, the last piece of ice melts when it loses touch with him. 

Chan feels as if sitting in a sea of stars. The wind pushes against his back, rocking him over the motionless mirror. The water under him is pitch black, mirroring the night sky in the places where the tree isn't blocking its way. He sits with one leg pulled up on the swing, his head leaning against one of the silvern strings attached to the wood. He stares at the water.

At the lakeside, the hyacinths glow softly. Their bluish light frames the shallow water. Sometimes, when a gust of wind tags between the calyxes, clouds of pollen get carried onto the water, floating on top. They could get mistaken for tiny fireflies settling on the water if it weren't for the soft turquoise light. It's a breathtaking sight, full of magic and wonder. 

Chan swallows hard, clenching at his shirt as a heaviness begins to pull on his insides. He feels dizzy as he looks around. Everything here seems not to own an end or a beginning. The sky above extends endlessly, just like the water under his feet. All of it is vast. Time seems to have frozen, and yet he feels trapped in place. A place full of beauty and loneliness, a world meaning to spend comfort but instead drowning him in black and blue. 

It is overwhelming. 

A single drop falls into the lake, breaking the even surface. Chan blinks, wiping the sudden wetness from his cheek. He had not noticed he had started crying. A little embarrassed, the teen hurriedly wipes away at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Another tear falls into the lake, much to Chan's annoyance. He continues to angrily rub at his eyes, the rough textile of his pullover scratching against his skin when the splashing of water catches him off guard.

The boy's arm lowers slowly, his tears forgotten as he observes a little fearfully the scene under his feet. The stars in the lake had begun to move together, getting slightly brighter as they grew together. They start to align into an unknown shape, constantly in motion, getting fast in the process. Chan stares intensely at the water, trying to understand with furrowed brows what is happening when another splash of water hits his dangling leg. 

He flinches, pulling up his leg, and quickly holds onto the strings to not fall into the lake. When the teen finds his balance again, he carefully peaks over into the depths of the water. At first, he sees nothing. Chan frowns, concentrating, but the water is back to being void of motion. It lays still under him, smooth as glass. It takes a moment, gazing at the pitch black water, to note that the stars that got mirrored by the water are gone. 

Chan's head whips around when something splashes loudly into the lake behind him. The swing sways at him moving around, trying to see what is happing. But he was too late. When Chan manages to turn on the small wooden board, he only catches sight of something dipping down again, creating large rings of water. The circles grow softer and smaller the further they travel, capturing Chan's gaze as he follows their flow. He flinches as it splashes right under the swing, and he quickly looks down. Chan holds tightly onto the swing, his mouth drawing open in shock at the view that presents right under his feet. 

A Koi is swimming under him, its size at least twice Chan's. Asunder from its length, something else about the animal throws the teen off. When the fish swims past through the pith black water, Chan realizes belatedly why the animal's appearance leaves him so confused.

The Koi is shaped entirely out of stars. The outlines of the Koi's body shifts with every movement, sometimes clearer and at the next moment, seemingly shapeless. Glancing into the sky, Chan feels relieved that the stars above are still at their original place. The animal moves effortlessly, gliding majestically under the surface. Sometimes it comes up enough for the water to bend, and Chan fears it would vanish if it touches the air. 

The tear tracks on the boy's face dry without him noticing as he watches the animal swim, awed by its beauty. One time it swims right under him again. Chan grows entirely still as he watches the fish gliding past, the tip of his toes nearly touching its back fin. Not noticing the wind coming back up, gently rocking the swing back and forth, the boy continues to watch the Koi swimming through the lake. Growing comfortable, he lets both legs hang down again and leans against the string, a yawn crossing his lips.

Watching the Koi swim calms him, only to grow excited when the animal comes near the swing. It passes Chan only to come up shortly after, staying a bit longer near the small island that the tree stands on.

"Are you lonely too?"

A few drops hit his face when the Koi splashes its tail fin right under him. Chan huffs, wiping the water from his face.

"I'll take that as a no. Wait, where are you going?"

Chan reaches out when the fish dips down, vanishing into the dark. He lets the hand fall, waiting for the Koi to emerge.

Minutes pass, but the water stays silent.

At the horizon, the sky begins to turn red. Having lost hope of seeing the Koi again, Chan prepares to leave when the fish comes up again. It stops a few meters in front of the swing. The fish stays still, only the tail fin moving restlessly, urging Chan to move. He slowly gets down from the swing and steps onto the ice. Chan approaches the fish carefully, but the animal keeps floating right under the surface, waiting for him. The ice wanders with the teen as he kneels, only a few centimeters of water between him and the magic pulsating animal. 

Light breaks through the darkness as the first rays of the sun light up the horizon. The stars on the fish's body vanish when they come into contact with rays of light. The Koi gives another urgent splash with its fin. Chan is unsure what to do, crawling closer to the edge. He shouts in surprise as the giant fish suddenly jumps out of the water. The stars holding it together melt, coming down as a gentle rain onto the boy who gapes where the fish has dissolved mid-air. Something falls with a light clutter when the fish vanishes onto the ice. 

With shaky fingers, Chan picks up the small object. The pattern of the cold metal is all too familiar. Out of habit, Chan runs his thumb over the ring. The ring that he uses to wears every day. Without much thought, the boy puts it on. Just as the metal gets put on his finger, a loud cracking noise cuts the silence.

And the ice breaks. 

Wonwoo glances up from his mobile when he senses someone standing in front of the reception. He pushes his glasses up, pausing the game on his phone. 

"You need something."

It wasn't a question. Chan doesn't know what to make of the tug of Wonwoo's lips and nods slowly. Wonwoo pulls his earbuds out, packing them away before he folds his hands together, leaning slightly forward. Curiosity gleams in his eyes. At moments like these, Chan wonders why Wonwoo stays at the library. He seems bored and a bit too eager to leave the place behind the desk.

"You have read all of the books from last time?"

"I was only searching for something. I haven't read these completely," explains the younger. Chan nods down at the stack of books he carries in his arms. Wonwoo eyes him for a moment before he gets up from his seat.

"I can put the books back myself!" protests Chan, reaching for the books Wonwoo just took from him. The older student raises an eyebrow. 

"And you still know where you got them?"

Chan's mouth falls shut in defeat. He takes his hand back sheepishly.

"You can walk with me if you like. We can look together for what you want to borrow next."

There are more students in the library than usual. They avoid the students like the last time Chan visited the library, but sometimes a few students' eyes linger on them. It almost seems as if they are about to approach Wonwoo, only to back up as soon as they see the senior has company. Thankfully the topmost floor of the library is as empty as last time. 

"Did you find what you were searching for in these books?" asks Wonwoo. He pushes one of the books back into a gap. How Wonwoo found the place where the book is missing this fast is a mystery to Chan.

"Yes," answers Chan slowly. He had found some information that could be helpful. "At least, I think so," mutters the teen to himself.

Wonwoo overhears it, busy sorting through the literature while striding past the masses of books.

"Can I ask you something?" Chan hurries up to follow.

"Sure," replies Wonwoo, slowing his step down a little. He glances up at the senior, who finds the last gap in the bookshelf. 

"Are there many students coming here for the betting?"

"Betting?"

Wonwoo does not put any effort into trying to sound surprised. He asks solely to humor Chan. The latter furrows his brows at the reaction, picking up on the insincere tone. The senior's strange reaction raises his interest.

"Do you know something about the bets, Wonwoo-Hyung?"

"Why? Do you want to bet?"

His fingers stay on the book's back as he turns his head to Chan, looking him right in the eyes. The eye contact leaves Chan swallowing, not used to seeing this hardened expression on the senior's face.

The Wonwoo he knew until now might appear uptight. With a perfect sitting uniform and all strands of his natural dark hair in the right place, the picture-perfect for a teacher's pet. He maybe even seem strict, but it became evident quickly that he tends to joke around. The senior acts the solemn character for fun, playing with a straight face. Looking closer, the amusement in his eyes and the slightest raise of his mouth gives away his real persona. 

Right now, nothing of that playful character shows on the cold features the taller student displays. 

"Or do you want to be bet on?"

"Me?"

Chan points at himself, caught off guard.

"I read your name on the tournament's list. My congratulations."

The words are icy.

Chan is puzzled by Wonwoo's turn of moods. He shakes his head quickly at the words. 

"I don't want to bet. And I don't want anyone to place bets on me. I don't take part in the tournament."

"You don't?"

Now Wonwoo sound genuinely surprised. The curiosity from earlier is back as he pushes his glasses back up, turning fully to face Chan. The younger teen fumbles with his fingers, licking his dry lips before glancing at the older nervously. The change of mood made left him flustered.

"I'm not gifted."

When the older teen continues to eye him without reacting to his confession, Chan panics a little. He quickly explains further, stumbling over his words in a hurry. 

"I don't know why they put me on the list. My friends said many students take bets in the library with the tournament coming up, and I should be careful coming here. I'm not asking because I'm interested in betting!"

Chan knew he began to ramble. But the way Wonwoo listens silently is unnerving, causing him to talk more than he planned to. 

"I only asked because the warning scared me a little," mutters Chan, glancing down at his shoes, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had been interested in the bets, but Wonwoo's reaction freaked him out more than he liked to admit. 

He doesn't know what kind of reaction he had expected. 

Maybe, pity? 

An eyebrow rising in surprise? 

A gasp in shock for letting the cat out of the bag? 

What he didn't expect was a complete change in demeanor. Wonwoo's face grew soft, and a short flash of understanding ghosts over Wonwoo's features. 

The expression leaves Chan utterly confused. Why the sudden sympathy? It couldn't be that Wonwoo is not gifted, right? Chan is sure he had felt magic radiating off the senior at their first meeting. He wouldn't dare to look for it now. The last time has been a slip out of curiosity that he won't repeat. It had been risky enough back then. 

Chan's eyes grow wide as an arm gets thrown over his shoulder. He gazes at the older, surprised to see Wonwoo grin down at him, the smile reaching up to his eyes, nose scrunching slightly at the action. 

"Don't worry, Chan. Hyung will look out for you. You can come here without worrying."

Now Chan feels really embarrassed. He pushes Wonwoo's hands away that ruffles through his hair, rolling his eyes at the older. Wonwoo chuckles and pulls him closer, squeezing his shoulder. 

"Now, what do you need, Channie?"

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 12)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

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Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

The silence is stagnant inside the almost empty corridor. 

Chan glances at Seungcheol. The latter leans seemingly unwounded against a wall of lockers. His expression could almost be considered stern, but if Chan had to name it, he would instead describe it as thoughtful, although the grim look makes it hard to pinpoint the difference. There is no amusement left, nor the toothy smile from earlier, which Seokmin has magically elicited out of the intimidating senior. 

"Haven't you been sitting too long on cold floors today?"

He doesn't like the determined expression that overtakes Seungcheol's features as the older suddenly walks over and stops in front of him, holding a hand out. Chan eyes it warily before he glimpses at Seungcheol's face. The teen waits, but the boy sitting against the door only stares at him, not considering moving an inch. 

Seungcheol lets the hand sink with a frown.

The younger watches with his brows drawn together in confusion and mild suspicion as the teen gets down to sit. Although the marble floor seems clean, maybe even polished, which wouldn't be surprising if that was a fact, it is at least wondersome how easily the teen settles down without pulling a face.

Seungcheol does not give off the same easygoing impression as Seokmin. Neither does he seem friendly like Chan's classmates or Jun. While Minghao seemed cold on the outside, his actions and eagerness to help prove that he's a warm-hearted person.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, is hard to read overall, which he is aware of, much to Chan's disliking. But Seungcheol's emotions are mirrored clearly on his face, his expressions telling more than the words he speaks. It had been evident since their first meeting, the anger prominent through a clenched jaw, close-knitted brows, and dark, stormy-gray eyes that could shoot lightning. 

But here and now, there is no sign of distaste, no show of anger and impatience. It became confusing, considering the earlier impression of Seungcheol that had formed in Chan's mind. There is no explanation for the older to be calm, hands comfortably placed on his lap. Why does he rather sit down in the dirt than press for answers? He had shown his true colors already, so why bother covering it behind patience and something akin to understanding?

No, Chan must have misread the glimmer in these dark gray eyes. Seungcheol is just one of those rich snobs who enjoys messing with him for his entertainment. As if having to deal with Jeonghan's nosiness wasn't enough already. 

"Does that happen often?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Seungcheol lets out a sigh. 

"Look, I'm not here to talk about Vernon. I think there had been a misunderstanding."

Did he mishear? Chan actually feels annoyed by the statement. "But you and Joshua-."

He gets cut off by the older holding a hand up, shutting him up but not without a glare boring into Seungcheols face. The older quickly held both hands up as if he was surrendering after catching Chan's expression, trying to appease him.

"Yes, and Shua still thinks something happened between you two. I should have stopped him from accusing you. Cornering you as we did wasn't right. I'm sorry. I really am. It's understandable if you don't believe me or reject my apology."

He should reject Seungcheol. 

He really should.

But he has grown tired of arguing, and although Seungcheol seems honest and sincere, Chan knows the determined look, recognizing stubbornness when it gets presented to him on a silver plate.

Seungcheol is quick on his feet when Chan gets up. 

"I forgive you under one condition."

Chan takes his bag under his arm before turning to Seungcheol. He has to look up slightly to meet the older student's eyes.

"You and your friends, I don't want you to get involved in my business."

 Seungcheol looks ready to protest, only to get interrupted by Chan putting a finger against his lips, silencing him.

"Leave it or take it."

The older huffs, stunned by the boldness but takes the small hand held out for him. He gives it a firm shake, holding onto it as he catches Chan's eyes. The glint in his eyes leaves Chan a tad uneasy, the smirk of amusement playing on Seungchol's lips irking suspicion. 

"I'll try."

______________________________________________

The smell of old books and fresh ink welcomes every newcomer into the main library of Seoul's most honored elite school. Every nook and corner is covered by shelves holding everything between literature masterpieces and guides to create the most potent potions and spells, up until some of the oldest books one has ever seen. These books are clad in flawy book covers, awakening the fear of the pages turning into nothing under the tip of your fingers. In the center of the library towers over the labyrinth of shelves, an around itself winding marble staircase. It rises to the second and third floors, like a gigantic tree, spreading separate stairs like branches reaching for the upper floors.

A door opens, and Chan watches in disbelief at the chattering students stepping out of an escalator. He wouldn't have seen it if it weren't for the small lamp next to the door lighting up, signaling the arrival of its passengers. It sits at the bottom of the staircase and appears to be a well-hidden part of the tree's trunk.

The magic is all around Chan as he walks further into the library, stirring his curiosity. Its origin must be vast as it seems to be everywhere at once, wrapping around him like a thin blanket hugging his body. Although its presence sits heavily in the air, it takes Chan a short moment before he notices the source providing that much magic. He's surprised by the finesse behind it, staring awed at the form the magic manifests in. The enchantment is delicate, barely visible, like cobwebs woven into the tree and shelves, covering sliding ladders and work desks. It hangs down from lamps between the staircases and the open ceiling like a thin veil, barely noticeable. On a closer glance, the threads of magic consist of golden and silver fibers of different spells, carefully put together. Who would have thought he would find the most powerful presence of magic inside the library? Chan ponders why so much magic is worked into this specific place until the realization presents itself to him while watching his surroundings. 

It's dark and cloudy outside, rain bedewing the windows. The lamps wouldn't be enough to light the expansive library, the natural light from the windows not reaching far enough into the corners. Chan watches in awe while observing a fellow student, who had been searching for books, how the light seems to follow the said student.

It is barely noticeable, but the shelf next to the student glows, and Chan probably only caught it since he's watching from a fair distance. While the student steps down from a caster ladder, the light seems to follow, the shelves the boy walks past glowing a little brighter than the ones the student had stood next to a moment before.

Now that Chan has caught on to the changes of light, he can't help but notices how it wanders and follows every person on their heels. It feels like the light inside the library manifests a mind. It is always next to the walking students or peaking over their shoulders to provide enough brightness to read and study without the studying hurting their eyes. He also notices how the brightness varies from person to person, leaving him wondering if the light adapts to every student's own needs. 

"Excuse me, how can I borrow some books?"

The student sitting at the reception looks up, a slightly bored expression lifting at the sight of someone approaching. Slender fingers push against the thick frame of his glasses, doing not much to put them in place, more a habit than a help. 

"Are you coming here for the first time?"

Chan is surprised by the deep voice. While Seungcheol's voice has scared him off, this teen appears to reach an even lower range, but instead of intimidation, it contributes to his calm appearance. His hair is short, slightly parted at the fringes, showing one of his lightly arched eyebrows. His hair is dark brown, nearly black, and he looks almost uptight with his perfectly smoothed uniform, if not for the spark of interest in his eyes as he musters the younger.

"Yes, I haven't been here before," answers Chan, glancing at the large book the teen has been reading before he comes up to the reception. 

The older student nods to himself before turning in his chair to get better access to the computer sitting next to him. He begins to type something in before looking back at Chan, sensing his questioning look.

"We need to register you first," he explains calmly. With these words, he holds his hand over the desk and waits. Chan stares at the hand, brows furrowed. Catching Chan's confusion, the student's lips quirk up.

"I need your student card."

"Ah, sorry. Please wait a moment."

A little flustered, Chan puts his bag down and quickly zips it open. He searches for the card in the small pockets but pulls out nothing of use. Not knowing that there would be a time needing it, Chan had thrown it somewhere into the bag without looking. Now he regrets his hasty action as he cannot find it, fumbling around in his search. The student watches him, with his head leaning on his hand, head tilted to the sight with a glint of amusement playing on his face as he watches the flustered student. 

"You can't find it?"

When met with apologetic eyes, the students give out a small chuckle. 

"We do it the old-fashioned way, then."

Despite the choice of words, judging from the sound of his voice, the student doesn't sound upset about the missing card. He even seems glad to have something to do as his fingers fly over the keys. 

"Name?"

"Lee Chan," answers Chan quickly, not expecting the sudden question as the student doesn't bother to stop typing to look at him.

"Class?"

"2C"

"Student ID Number?"

The typing stops when the student takes a glance at Chan, giving him an understanding smile. "You don't know it, do you?"

Chan shakes his head, a little embarrassed. He should keep a better watch for his student card and information in the future. 

"Birthday?"

"Feburary 11th, 1999."

"That's young for a second year."

He shrugs his shoulders, deciding not to get into details, but the student doesn't bother asking further.

"Height?"

That one made Chan tilt his head in surprise, brows knitted together.

"Why would you need my height?" he asks, genuinely curious.

The printer springs into life. The student reaches somewhere under the table to take a card out. He flips it over and puts a stamp onto the back of the freshly printed card, a little magical dust puffing up at the motion. 

"I'm just messing with you," answers the older with an amused grin and hands the card over to Chan, who takes it with both hands. He inspects the back where a magic seal got placed, protecting the card from getting damaged. 

"Welcome to the library," says the student with a grin, back on leaning on his crossed arms as he watches Chan inspect the card with awe. "If you need help or are looking for something specific, you can come to talk to me."

"Thank you-," Chan stumbles over his words, realizing he doesn't know the student's name.

"Wonwoo," the older helps him with a small smile playing on his lips. 

"Actually, there is something I'm looking for," says Chan, pulling his bag over his shoulder before looking at the student who introduced himself as Wonwoo. 

"Can you tell me where I can find books about psychology?"

Chan cringes a little at his strange request, but Wonwoo does not seem surprised by his interest. He watches the older getting up from his seat and is quite surprised by the student's height, now that he's standing next to him, as he has not looked as tall sitting behind the reception. Wonwoo pushes down the wrinkles, smoothing his blazer.

"I'm going to show you around."

"Aren't you supposed to be here?" asks Chan, pointing at the reception, perplexed that the older would go out of his way to walk with him.

"Don't worry about it," says Wonwoo, and Chan quickly follows the older as he takes off. It's fascinating how Wonwoo seems to know exactly where everything is, from the most-read genres to well-hidden jewels. He encourages Chan to ask him what he's looking for, and Chan does not give a specific answer, not wanting him to know what he's exactly looking for, but enough for Wonwoo to work with it. While they are approaching the staircases, Chan feels his neck prickling. It's the sensation of eyes boring into the back of his head, the knowledge of being watched. Wonwoo strides forward while the younger glances around, catching the eyes of other students passing them on their ways, avoiding eye contact as soon as they notice Chan's watchful gaze falling on them. When he looks forward again, his eyes widen at the gap between himself and Wonwoo, and he hurries behind the older student.

Interestingly the other student's attention is solely focused on Wonwoo, the latter, seemingly obvious to the poorly hidden stares he receives from all sides. When they walk up to the elevator, Wonwoo glances at his wristwatch before pushing his glasses up. The opening door reveals a group of girls talking animatedly, not noticing the pair. Wonwoo coughs into his hand, catching their attention, and it's almost funny how largely their eyes widen in realization as they shut up instantly. Some awkward apologies stumble out of their mouth, followed by hasty shuffling as the students push themselves past a patiently waiting Wonwoo, who does not bat an eyelid at their behavior. 

Chan feels a soft push against the small of his back as Wonwoo leads him inside the elevator. While Chan's curiosity about the strange reactions of the students spikes his interest, he glances at Wonwoo through the mirror. Wonwoo catches his stare and raises an eyebrow, and the boy is panicking at being found staring, quickly sending a hopefully innocent-looking smile back. He doesn't know if the chuckle emitting from Wonwoo is a way of showing his attempt has failed, but Chan gets saved from his embarrassment by the doors opening. The tip of his ears still burns as he steps out of the elevator behind Wonwoo. It does not take long for his embarrassment to change into excitement at the sight of the third floor.  

He thought the second and third floors of the library would be less impressive since they aren't as large as the first story. But he gets proven wrong when the sight of even higher shelves is presented in front of him, making him feel like he is walking into a labyrinth they teach about existing in ancient greeks myths. 

"This is incredible," mutters Chan as they walk close to the railing, and he throws a glance down onto the second and first floor, amazed at how high up they are. 

"I won't catch you if you fall," teases Wonwoo, who watches in amusement how the younger looks around in awe. Chan pulls a face at the words. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest after stepping away from the railing and turning to face the older. 

"I won't fall. Thank you for worrying."

A grin forms on Wonwoo's face. His nose scrunches slightly at the motion, reminding Chan a bit of Vernon. 

"Are you pouting, Channie?" mocks Wonwoo playfully.

"Channie?"

Chan fake gags at the endearment, not even having heard something like that from Seungkwan. His reaction earns a laugh from Wonwoo before the older continues to show him around. There are fewer people on the third floor. The few they met are quick to turn and go out of their way to avoid passing them, and by now, Chan thinks that walking around with Wonwoo is relaxing.

Before, he got followed by hushed whispers and glares, fearing someone approaching him with unknown intentions that most likely won't end well. But Wonwoo's presence works like a shield, protecting him from unwanted attention. Walking beside the older makes him feel at ease, and the easygoing explanations Wonwoo gives are enjoyable to listen to. From what Chan can tell, Wonwoo enjoys the stroll around the wide corridors. He points at the different books, recommending some and telling Chan off on others if he dislikes getting bored out of his mind while the younger looks around in interest. 

"Here begins the " psychology tract " The books, from here to there, are mostly filled with studies and statistics. Meanwhile, this side contains more explanations and works from famous authors in the field," explains Wonwoo as they stop at some aisle in the middle of the maze.

"But be careful. If you wander too far, or you end up at philosophy. Don't ask why these two lay next to each other. I cannot wrap my mind around it either."

"You aren't into philosophy? Shocking!"

Chan laughs at the look Wonwoo gives him. 

"If you need anything else, don't come to me."

"Hey, what about the offer from earlier?" asks Chan, amused at the sour expression on Wonwoos face. Talking to Wonwoo comes easy to him by now. 

"You know where to find me," all the older says while turning his back on him, and Chan grins, rolling his eyes at the childish behavior. 

"Thank you for the help, Wonwoo," he shouts after him, causing Wonwoo to turn around at the end of the aisle. 

"Yah, this is a library. Be quiet."

"Sorry, Wonwoo!" shouts Chan even louder, chuckling when the latter shakes his head at him.

"It's Wonwoo-Hyung for you, Chan," says Wonwoo loudly, making it sound like a warning. With that, the older leaves a stunned Chan behind, who stares in disbelief at the place the other had stood just now.

"Hyung?" mumbles the teen to himself, the word foreign on his lips.

He has to get used to that. 

Thanks to Wonwoo, Chan found what he's been looking for quickly. He contemplates looking for a place to read inside the library, but now that the senior wasn't with him, he couldn't avoid other people this easily. With the few people on the third floor, the chance of walking into someone unpleasant is considerably small, but after the incident with the storage room Chan grew even more cautious, not wanting it to repeat. With the books he had found safely put away in his arms, Chan wanders through the maze, listening closely to his surroundings to avoid walking into anyone on his way to the elevator. 

"Hopefully, those books can help," mutters the teen before he lets out a shocked gasp as he suddenly stumbles over something. In an attempt to catch his balance, Chan reaches out for a nearby shelve, but with the weight of the books pulling him forward, he crashes down onto the floor.

"Ouch!" 

He hisses as he falls onto his knees and one of his elbows, rubbing the sore spot as soon as he sits up. The young teen glances back to see what he has stumbled over, eyes falling onto a plain book sitting innocently on the floor. Chan frowns as he picks the book up and looks around, searching for a gap inside the shelves where it has fallen out. He finds the missing gap, this surprisingly turning out to be at the far end of the aisle, leaving Chan a little confused.

The teenager, nonetheless, puts the book back into its belonging position when something strange catches his eye. Between the golden-silver strands of magic is a light blue fiber that pulls through an exceptionally thick thread of magic. His eyes follow the outstanding blue, leading him to a shelve close to the windows, where the dome-like ceiling meets the wall. He nearly loses the thread out of sight as it suddenly vanishes between the border of two adjoined shelves. 

Chan glances around stealthily. After making sure no one is near, the teen sends out the tiniest bit of magic, pushing a spark into the blue fiber to see where it ends. To his surprise, it doesn't stop as soon as he expects, leaving him frowning as he glances at the shelve in front of him. Chan reaches out and lets his fingertips wander around the wooden frame, a concentrated expression taking over his features. The tip of his tongue peeks out between his lips as he slips his fingers between the narrow gap of the bookshelves. Soft clicking echos through the aisle as his fingers find something, and he pushes into the small crease imprinted into the wood.

Chan quickly pulls his hands away and softly pushes the sliding ladder away, which leans against the shelf, maybe being placed there on purpose. He puts his hands against the bookshelf and gently pushes. 

The bookshelf moves forward with ease. Chan watches in wonder how it slides to the side on its own. The student carefully steps down the few stairs leading into a hexagon-shaped room. It holds, fitting the rest of the library, bookshelves that reach up under the ceiling. Chan eyes the comfortable but worn-out couch sitting right under the only window, wondering about its presence. In the middle of the room stands a large table with mismatched reading lamps placed on it and a few books someone has left there.

A single working desk stands on the only wall with space left between the shelves. There is a stack of papers neatly folded on the side. Curious about the desk Chan is about to come closer, but instead, he whirls around at the sudden sound of the shelf clicking back into place. He panics lightly at the thought of the only exit locked before he finds a handle on the frame.

Chan sighs in relief, sinking onto the sofa that is even more comfortable than it looks, an impressive feat. Now that Chan thinks about it, it feels cozy in here. The small lamp hanging from the ceiling spends a warm light, and with magic-covered shelves, a soft glow lights up the small room from all sides. 

Glancing at the red alarm clock sitting at the back of the desk, Chan realizes he still has some time before meeting Jun. Going home to read sounds like a waste of time.

While his eyes wander around the room, an idea comes to mind. How about he spends his leftover time right here?

No one would disturb him here, hidden away in a room only found by a secret entrance. With his plan set, Chan puts his bag down and places one of the books onto the desk, the rest stuffed into the depths of his school bag. 

He begins to read, hoping to find a way to get a solution to his problem. If he cannot make it soon, it will be hard to help Seungkwan train. 

He has to get over it.

Chan has to get over his newfound fear of fire. 

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 11)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

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Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

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"Hey! Open the door!"

Chan cannot believe this is happening. His hands curl into angry fists before he knocks loudly against the door. He had tried opening it, pulling at the doorknob, but it had been useless. The door did not move an inch. He had pulled with all his might. But apart from rattling in its mounting, nothing happened. 

"Hello? Is somebody there?"

Afraid that the loose seeming door knob might rip off, Chan tries knocking again until his hands begin to hurt. The teen stands still, chest heaving while he presses his ear against the door. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot pick up anything from outside. There is no sound coming from the hallway. 

"Why is no one around there?" mutters Chan, getting more annoyed with every second. He is partly annoyed at himself for being careless enough to assume that his classmates wouldn't be around building three. It was his fault for walking right into their arms and getting himself in trouble.

Chan turns, looking around the storage room to find anything to help him get out. His eyes scan over folded easels that are leaning against the wall. The wood has seen better days, and the easels got most likely sorted out.

Cans with dried-up blots of colors on them stand on cheap metal shelves. It smells like paint and damp paper. It takes four steps to reach the other end of the narrow room. The single window is too high to reach up to and look outside. Dust particles whirl up as the teen walks along the tightly standing shelves. They dance in thin rays of light that fall through the small gap between metal bars that cover the window. 

While searching, the young student finds a light switch hidden by a shelf close to the door. 

The button goes down with a click. 

Nothing happens. 

He pushes the button back to its original position with a sigh.

After he had looked through the room without success, Chan went back to pressing his head against the door. His anger had died down slightly, as the teen had to accept that he wouldn't get out so quickly. He let up with a frown when he couldn't hear anything during the few minutes he persevered next to the door.

What is he going to do now? 

The raven-head holds a hand against his cheek to get a bit of warmth back on his face. His face had grown nub from the cold metal. A stack of old newspapers catches his eye. Apart from the layer of dust, they look clean. The teen takes a bunch out of the neatly tied bundle and goes to the place under the window. The paper rustles as he lets himself slide down against the only wall not covered by shelves. He's not sure what he's waiting for, but he won't do it by sitting on the cold floor. 

Chan stares at the closed door.

What are the chances of someone finding him here? Their classes are over, and there is no one waiting for him. 

He sits cross-legged with his back leaning against the wall as he muses over the options he has left. His phone is in his bag that got taken away earlier. He could force the door open, but if anyone happens to see him, he has a lot to explain. He could try teleporting out of the storage room, but that option is not safe either. Teleporting costs lots of energy and concentration. To teleport meant to deform bodies or objects by using magic and arranging it again in perfect order at the place you want them to be. The range is also limited.

Chan would need to choose a place close by, like the hallway or the classroom next door. But teleporting is unheard off. Chan isn't sure if humans can do that at all. He cannot risk somebody seeing him doing that. He has never trained it, resulting in it not being his best skill. 

"I don't like seeing you using dark magic, Chan."

A shudder runs over his body as he hears his mother's voice in his mind. He has got reprimanded enough to develop an aversion against teleporting from an early age. The teen let go of the idea as quickly as it came. Chan frowns as he stares at the door. Guess he has to wait for someone to find him. But it's Friday. He would be stuck here the whole weekend if no one came today. And what if he gets found on Monday? Would anyone believe that he got locked in here?

He leans his head against the wall, and a huff of air escapes his lips louder than intended. The paint on the ceiling is disintegrating in some places, leaving dark traces of something that looks suspiciously similar to mold. Rich school or not, storage rooms look the same everywhere. 

Without the lamp working, it gets dimmer inside the small room. Chan has his eyes closed, sitting and concentrating on any sound that comes from the outside. He's not sure he long he is already sitting at the bottom of the slowly darker-growing storage room. The fingers of his right hand are playing around with the ring on his finger. 

Would it have been a better idea to pretend to be human and be able to use magic? The question won't leave him since the conversation he had with his new friends. 

"How come you are so good at magic?"

The question had let Chan's heart rate spike up until he realized Seungkwan was talking about the result of their last exam. Seungkwan had been sitting in front of his desk with Chan's test in his hands, reading his answers with great interest. 

"I got home tutored," answered Chan without looking up from his mobile. He got another text message from his mother. With a frown, he swiped the notification to the side. Seungkwan pointed at the paper. "That does not explain how you get full marks in every subject. You even get 100 points in Mr. Yun's examen. And I honestly believe he has something against you." Seungkwan put the paper down to give Chan a questioning look. 

"Doesn't he have something against everyone?" asked Vernon, who stood behind Seungkwan to read over his shoulder. Chan thanked Vernon inwardly for the objection. Mr. Yun had something against Chan the second they met. Chan doesn't know where the dislike of their homeroom teacher comes from, but his friends don't need to know that. 

"My parents wanted me to be good at this kind of stuff. Can we talk about something other than studying now?"

"Sure."

The paper gets handed back to him, and Chan stuffed it deep into his bag, not caring about it crumbling. Should he start getting fewer points on his tests? Would that bring less attention? He dismissed the thought after remembering that he shouldn't play around as he is attending through a scholarship. Even if it's one, he only pretends to have.

"There is something I wanted to ask you," begins Seungkwan, spinning his pen skillfully between his fingers. He was sitting straight with a solemn expression, a tad too solemn for Chan's liking. He should have known by the mass of words thrown at him that something is off.

"You don't have to, of course. If you don't want to, that's fine too-"

"Seungkwan, I have to know what you want before I can agree or reject the request," cuts Chan in calmly. Seungkwan stopped talking with his brows drawn together. He pouted a moment with his bottom lip stuck out a little. "Can you help me train for the tournament?"

"Huh?"

From the grave demeanor which Seungkwan had been showing, Chan had expected something serious. Nevertheless, the question caught him off guard. Seungkwan wants his help? He wants Chan to help him train. For the tournament. A tournament solely for showing off magic.

He stared dumbly at his classmate, not sure if he had misheard. When he noticed Seungkwan's face falling at his reaction Chan had been quick to shrug the first shock off.

"Sorry, but what exactly do you mean to help you train?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed the list on the blackboard?"

Vernon took pity on Chan as he noticed the younger teen visibly confused at Seungkwans reply. The elder handed him his cell phone, and Chan took the device with a question mark drawn on his face. His eyes wandered over the picture of a printed paper. It seemed to be an official document. Even illustrated with the school's crest at the top. Scanning over the list, he found Seungkwan's name on the paper. It stood in third place, and Chan felt genuinely happy for his seat neighbor before something caught his eye.

"What in the world-"

There stood his name. 

Lee Chan. 

Chan's head shot up, and he stared aghast at his friends.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Seungkwan takes the cell phone and scans the picture Vernon had taken before pointing at Chan's name, that's standing proudly on top of the list. 

"That means you managed to get the highest grades of the second-year students. Congrats, nerd." 

Chan remembers the vivid feeling of being completely and utterly confused after he frowns at Seungkwan's hand ruffling his hair. 

"But I cannot take part in the tournament. Why am I there?" He gestures to the cell phone that got handed back to its owner. Vernon shrugged his shoulders. "Guess they didn't bother changing the rules. Maybe only five students will participate since you are claiming one of the six available spots." 

Chan shook his head in denial. How can that be possible? The school must have made a mistake. His friends, on the other hand, looked unfazed by the news. "Isn't that unfair? I cannot use magic. Why won't they take me down from the list and put the next person in line on it?"

His protests got met by Seungkwan, giving him a slightly pitying look. His friends also couldn't understand why the teachers had decided to leave Chan on the list. "Sorry, Chan. Those are the tournament rules. Who know's why they won't pick the next person. But don't worry about it."

He knows the words should bring some comfort, but Chan still feels uneasy about the fact that he takes someone's spot. There will be talk about it, and talk means more attention. Chan feels the urge to facepalm. 

"So, what is your answer?"

Right, there was still that question hanging in the air. 

Chan pressed his lips together, unsure what to make out of the situation. How is he supposed to be at any help? What exactly is Seungkwan expecting him to offer? He cannot picture how that training should work. He shot his friend an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry Seungkwan. I don't think I am the right person to help you with that."

Seungkwan pushed his idea, trying to sound confident as he saw Chan seeming uncertain about the plan. "Don't say that, Chan. You helped Vernon and me a lot during our work on the project. You don't have to be able to use magic to help."

Seeing that Chan still wasn't convinced, Seungkwan began downright pleading. "I'll give you time to think about it, alright? But please let us try it out once before saying no. Just once. If it isn't working, I will not ask again. Promise?"

A pinky finger got held into his face, and Chan glanced past the hand at Seungkwan. The latter had thrown a look equivalent to puppy eyes directed at him, and Chan let out a sigh before he put his pinky around Seungkwan's, finger curling together. 

Chan held up his index finger, pointing at the blond with a stern expression. "Just one time. If it doesn't work, you are on your own."

"Thank you, Chan!"

He laughed as Seungkwan went in to give him a hug that he gladly returned, but he couldn't help wincing inwardly. What has he just agreed to? Thinking back to the conversation, Chan almost regrets having brought up the idea of pretending to be a non-magic user. 

If he could use magic like the other students, he could participate in the practical lessons. He could help his friends without having to give excuses to dismiss them.

He wouldn't be the odd one out. He wouldn't be the one student who stands on the sidelines, watching his classmates in silence. But then the uncomfortable, prodding interest of the principal in his magic abilities comes back to mind. 

There is no doubt that Chan would get monitored tightly by the principal if he used magic freely. And Chan wouldn't know how much of his abilities he could use without seeming suspicious. He had never been around other magic users, god forbid other demons, and the teachers and servants at home were forbidden to interact with him more than necessary.

His parents kept a tight watch on Chan's existence leaking out of the walls of their home. As a result, he's unknowing of where the norm of human abilities at his age lie. If being honest, Chan isn't sure what humans at any age are supposed to be able to do in terms of magic. Even if someone came to find out that he could use magic, they wouldn't know he is a demon, but what if he overdid it? What if Chan showed just a tad too much? How would he cover that mistake?

"In the end, I would still be the odd one out, magic or not," mumbles the student as he runs his fingertip over the cold silver of the ring. If he is being honest, being watched by the principal isn't his biggest worry. 

Would Seungkwan and Vernon still want to be friends if they knew what he could do? If they knew what he was? They would be mad, that's for sure. After all, Chan had been lying to them right from the start.

It is almost unsettling how quickly he became used to calling the two his friends. He had become attracted to Vernon's random thoughts and strange humor. To Seungkwan's nagging and the little banter that ends with amused laughter. Chan grew attached to being the reason his friends rolled their eyes with a grin on their faces. He never knew attention could be something comfortable, but Vernon and Seungkwan showed him how being part of something could change his mind. Seeing how genuinely they want to be his friends left Chan questioning his suspicion towards the two Chinese seniors who were very kind to him. He had planned to find Jun and apologize. Chan doesn't expect to get forgiven for his wrongdoings. He can understand if Jun didn't want to have anything to do with him after how Chan treated him. But Chan wants to, at least, set things right between them. That had been the plan. But here he is, stuck in a storage room.

He buries his head in his arms with another tired sigh. 

"What's this? The light doesn't work?"

Chan's head shoots up as it suddenly gets bright inside the small room. He quickly gets up from his place on the floor, newspaper wrinkling and tearing under his shoes. The person who opened the door wears the same uniform as Chan, but he looks a little older than him.

The light of the hallway falling in from behind almost resembles a halo around the teen's short chestnut brown curls. Or maybe that's Chan's mind processing the relief he feels at finally getting out. The student turns at the noise of shoes squeaking on the floor. Chan already has a "thank you" on his lips as suddenly, the other boy's eyes widen in pure terror.

"AHHHHHHH!!"

Chan jerks at the high-pitched scream, and he freezes in his step. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't know what I did, but I'm deeply sorry. Please spare me. I'm not ready to die!" He helplessly watches as the teen crouches on the floor with his hands pressed against his ears and eyes squeezed shut, trying to block everything out with an incoherent stream of words pouring out of his mouth. His mouth stands open as he stares at the crouching teen, a bit overwhelmed at the dramatic reaction before he unfreezes. 

"Please, get up. I'm not doing anything to you." His words fall on deaf ears. Feeling bad for the shock he caused, Chan is about to apologize when he notices the cone of light growing smaller inside the room. 

"Look out for the door!"

The student's eyes widen in realization at the words shouted in his direction. He turns around quickly, still looking spooked but lungs for the heavy door that had begun slowly to move on its own. His fingertips brush against the doorknob, but it's already too late. The door hits the frame with a defeating wham, hitting the teen right against the forehead with a dull knock. 

As unfortunate as the situation turned out, Chan had to direct his eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking at the student, who was rubbing his forehead with a frown. He presses his lips together and tries hard to keep the laughter from breaking out. Chan leans with one hand holding himself up against a shelf while the other covers his mouth. His shoulders shake as he tries to suppress the laughter. Chan is trying quietly to keep it together. He really does. Fortunately, the other didn't seem to notice, giving him a moment to calm down.

After the incident with the door, there is an awful silence in the room. Two pairs of eyes are staring wordlessly at the door. The brunette is the first to start moving. The student clears his throat, which was meant to happen quietly but turns out loud and painfully awkward before he walks stiffly towards the door. He doesn't face Chan as he bends over to knock the dust off his pants, but Chan swears he could hear him mumble something along the lines of, "damn, that hurt."

Controlling his expression, Chan lets out a deep sigh before he slumps back onto the ripped stack of paper. He watches the student trying to open the door, hitting it, and calling out as he had before the teen turns around. "Looks like we have a problem. You don't have your cell phone with you, do you?"

Although the light is dim, Chan can make out a pretty pointed nose and a strong jawline that blends into an equally pointed chin. The lack of prominent cheekbones lessens the edged features and creates a soft appearance despite the strong display of a cutting jawline. The picture is complete by a hopeful smile that reaches up to almond-shaped eyes that form into crescents. Chan almost feels evil for shaking his head at the question as he observes the pretty smile turning sour. 

The other student sinks onto the floor, mimicking Chan's position as he leans against the door, knees pulled up to his chest. He touches his forehead, and his nose scrunches up as his face morphs into a pained expression. 

"Does it hurt a lot?"

Eyes fall on Chan. 

He doesn't know what he expected, maybe a scowl or a frown, but not a bright laugh, although there is a hint of embarrassment blending into the brilliant sound. 

"I'm not sure what hurts more, my forehead or my pride."

"Your forehead is pretty red."

The student raises his eyebrow before he breaks into a grin, a light chuckle passing his lips. "It looked funny, didn't it?"

"I had to try hard not to choke laughing," confesses Chan, with the corner of his lips raising as he speaks. 

The student laughs at that.

"I'm glad none of my friends saw this. That would be even more embarrassing."

The other is still grinning as he's rubbing his neck sheepishly. Chan doesn't realize until he is already grinning widely at the student that he has fallen for the other's charm. It felt impossible to refrain from smiling back at the bright grin and sparkling eyes. Chan is shocked that he forgot that he's locked in and not even bothered by it as he had forgotten his worries for a moment. How did he end up talking to a stranger this easily?

"How did you end up here?"

The student looks at him from his place at the door with nothing but genuine curiosity. 

It's Chan's turn to avoid eyes, a little embarrassed. "I was on my way to apologize to someone. But I got locked in here before I got the chance to."

"Not from the person you want to apologize to, I hope?"

Chan's eyes widen at the innocent-sounding question. "No, no! He wouldn't do something like that," he denies quickly. He does not know Jun well, but he doubts the senior would ever do something like that. 

"That's nice of you."

"Hmm?"

"That you want to apologize."

The student is watching him closely. Chan frowns at the words. He glances at his hands. "I don't know about that. It would be better if I didn't have to apologize in the first place."

The other let out a low hum, nodding at the words. A short silence follows, but it's not awkward like before, with both students deep in thought.

"Can I get your name?"

When Chan looked up, the student had been watching him with thin lips curled upwards softly. He feels the urge to smile back. What damage could it do to give him his name?

"It's Chan."

"Nice to meet you, Chan. I'm Seokmin," the still-smiling student replies.

"One time, I got into an argument with one of my closest friends. I cannot remember what the argument had been about, but it started to get heated," begins the student called Seokmin, and Chan doesn't know how to react to the sudden storytelling. He sits on his nest of newspapers and quietly listens. 

"We both got angry. In the end, I even threw a towel at my friend's face."

Seokmin chuckles as Chan raises an eyebrow. "I planned to talk to him about it the next day. But I couldn't sleep all night. What he said hurt me, but I knew I hurt him just as much, and I felt guilty for it. I got scared. How would he react when we met the next day?" Although the story doesn't sound like a good memory, the soft curl of lips never leaves Seokmin's face as he speaks. He looks almost fond while telling the story.

"When we met, I apologized. Maybe I cried a little. It was not my most glorious day, but my friend forgave me and apologized. We talked, and I explained to him how I thought it would be better if it didn't escalate to that point. And then he told me something important." 

Seokmin clears his throat with a dramatic cough. He makes a great show of putting one knee down and leaning his forearm on the other. With an expression as serious that it feels foreign on his kind features, Seokmin bends forward. 

"Listen, Seokmin-ah," begins the older student, and Chan snorts at the bad imitation of a deep voice. Chan doesn't know Seokmins friend, but the copy Seokmin is trying to present to him is hilarious. Chan's loud display of amusement breaks Seokmin out of his character. A smile fights its way on his lips, and the teen takes his arm down and chuckles as he fails to stay committed in his role. It's noticeable that Seokmin isn't upset about getting interrupted. It does not hinder him from humoring Chan by tilting his head with a crease between his brows. He points at the giggling student with a frown, but there is not an ounce of anger in his voice. Instead, he has to fight his own amusement from showing.

"Stop laughing, Chan. I'm trying to be serious here."

"How is that serious?" asks Chan, now outright laughing at Seokmin, who is trying his best to look stern. 

"Seokmin-ah,-" starts Seokmin again. This time he's pitching his voice even lower, obviously fishing for a reaction. He doesn't fail. As soon as Chan hears it, he's in stitches, leaning against the wall behind him as he can't stop laughing. Seokmin joins him after he gives up on acting.

"Who in the world talks like that?!"

Chan has tears in his eyes. He wipes them away with the sleeve of his blazer, a few leftover chuckles shaking his shoulders. Seokmin shrugs his shoulders as he wears a victorious grin. "It's not my fault he talks like this."

"That's hilarious."

Seokmin preens at the words. When Chan seems perceptive again, he continues where he left off. "Seokmin, don't get hung up on something you cannot change. The best you can do is reflect on yourself and decide what you're taking out of it. It does not undo what has happened but apologizing and asking for forgiveness is a good approach. You are showing that you care about the other person's feelings. You know you did something that hurt them and wants to work on it so it won't happen again."

"Your friend likes to state the obvious, doesn't he?"

Seokmin pulls a grimace. 

"Tell me about it. That guy likes hearing himself talk too much." 

Chan laughs at the played distaste.

"But even if what my friend told me had been nothing I didn't know already, it made me feel better hearing it from someone else. After someone told me to accept that it happened, I felt less guilty about it. Why am I putting myself into the predicament of asking what if's if I know there won't be an answer? It will not get you anywhere."

"Thank you for telling me this." 

Chan really means it. Like Seokmin had explained, he is well too aware that he couldn't take back what he said. But knowing something and enforcing it are two very different matters. 

"Even if it was obvious?" asks Seokmin with a humorous glint in his eyes.  

"Yes, even though it was obvious," answers Chan with a grin. 

The smile Chan receives is blinding, all teeth and crinkled eyes, and Chan catches himself with the thought of not minding talking to the older student outside the storage room they're currently stuck in. 

"By the way, why did you come here?" asks Chan.

"Our art teacher told me to put away the leftover colors from the lesson."

Since when did the students have to clean up after themselves? Sensing the question incoming, Seokmin makes a great show out of avoiding eye contact by letting his gaze wander everywhere but Chan as he explained. "One of my friends tripped and accidentally poured his dirty water over my project. And for some reason, a moment later, there has been blue paint all over his face."

"Out of nowhere, I assume?"

"Exactly." 

"So, you are not here 'cause you got punished to clean up?"

"You've got it, buddy."

Their eyes meet, and both teens break out in laughter.

"Last time I saw him, he still had blue highlights in his hair," says Seokmin with a laugh, and although Chan, too, is laughing, he's not sure if Seokmin is joking. Seokmin is about to say something but gets cut off in the middle as he suddenly falls backward. Chan only hears a surprised scream before he cannot see a thing anymore.

"Is that your way of avoiding work, Seokmin?"

The light that floods into the room out of the hallway is blinding. Chan has to shield his eyes to get used to the newfound brightness.

"Cheol?" Seokmin asks, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"Don't you recognize your handsome friend's face?"

Cheol? 

Something about that sound familiar.

"Hmm, it's hard to tell. From this angle, you look like a camel."

"Yah, do you want to get a knuckle sandwich?"

Chan would be scared at the sound of the threat, but Seokmin's amused laughter that follows makes him want to believe that it is nothing but empty words. In the door frame stands a broad-shouldered student with short black hair. He's clothed in only the dark blue trousers of the school uniform. Instead of the ugly blazer, the teen wears a black turtle neck that compliments his thin but toned upper body. His arms are crossed over his chest as he looks down at Seokmin, whose head had luckily not hit the floor but landed on the student's shoes instead. Seokmin grins at the teen and gets pulled up by a firm hand.

"Thanks, Seungcheol."

Now it dawned on Chan. 

Seungcheol was the name of one of the seniors who were with Joshua. A tinge of panic begins to spread inside his chest. He slowly pushes himself up from the ground. His eyes fall on the bag that lies outside in the hallway. Did Sejong leave his bag there? That's surprising. Chan thought he would never see it again. But that is undoubtedly his bag, carelessly thrown near the windows across the hallway. If he's quick enough, he might make it past the senior, grab his bag, and runoff.

"I'm glad you found us. I don't know how long we could have stood locked in here."

"We?"

"Yeah, me and Chan."

His mouth turns dry as Seungcheol follows the direction of where Seokmin is pointing until his eyes find Chan's. He sees the realization hit the senior when he recognizes him. Seungcheol's eyes narrow. Chan gulps at the intense stare. He feels pinned down by it, just like he had during their first meeting, which he is still trying to pretend never happened.

"You two were locked in here together?" the student asks slowly, eyes never leaving Chan, making the latter fidget in his place. Chan didn't like how Seungcheol was eyeing him. It throws Chan back to his first meeting with Jeonghan at the lounge. While Jeonghan had been searching for something solely fitting his interests, Seungcheol's stare was different. It's scanning him, analyzing how much of a threat he could be. If he gives it a second thought, that sounds ridiculous. The only one who should feel threatened right now is Chan.

"Chan had been there before me, while I might have managed to get locked in too." A short laugh escapes Seungcheol and Chan lets out a long breath of air as the senior finally takes his eyes off him to look at Seokmin. The latter is oblivious to the tension inside the room. Maybe Chan could use Seokmin's presence and get out of there without getting held up by the scary-looking senior.

"I need to go now if you would excuse me."

Those were his words, but Chan couldn't move. He stood frozen, waiting with growing anxiety for Seungchol to go and stop blocking the only way out of the room. 

"Ah, right! You still have something important to do," says Seokmin, and clapped his hand together as he remembers what they had been talking over. 

"Come on, Chan. You got places to be."

It feels like magic how Seokmin grabs his sleeve and pulls him effortlessly past Seungcheol, who takes a surprised step back. A moment later, Chan stands in the bright hallway, free to go wherever he wants to, his bag back in his hands.

Seokmin pats his shoulder. "It was hard, being in there for so long. You must be tired. I hope we meet again soon, Chan. You have to tell me how it went, alright?" 

Chan couldn't deny Seokmin's wish. Not when the older one gives him that kind of smile. "Sure. Should we meet at the usual place?" jokes Chan and nods towards the gray door. Seokmin chuckles.

"I'll consider the offer."

Finally, free Chan quickly sets off to the art studio. By now, the sky is turning from a soft orange into a dark red. It is already past seven when Chan stands in front of the familiar door. He hopes Jun is still inside the school as he slips his cell phone back into his pocket, glad it's still here and functional. He knocks softly against the door. 

"Jun?... Minghao?"

There is no answer. 

Chan bites his lip, pausing, his hand hovering over the door knob. He pulls at the door. It's locked. The teen leans his forehead against the door, the doorknob still between his fingers, as a strong wave of disappointment hits. Before he knew it, Chan slid down in front of the door, knees pulled up towards his chest and his head buried between his arms. He feels just so incredibly exhausted. Picking himself up and going home sounds too hard at the moment.  

"Are you alright?"

He slowly looks up, even though he already knows to who the deep voice belongs. The footsteps following him had been too loud to get overheard.

On the other side of the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over dark fabric stands Seungcheol. 

And he looks pissed.

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 10)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

Spotify-Playlist for this fanfic

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

Chan knew he was in trouble when the words in his textbook wouldn't stay put. He tries to concentrate. He does. But squinting at the passage while leaning half over his desk does not do much. Chan suppresses a yawn. He glances around, but luckily no one is paying attention to him as he tries to keep his forehead from hitting the desk and droll on his textbook.

It has been over two months since the incident on his way back home. He still keeps thinking about the man that got devoured by a magic stone and who attacked him. It left a noticeable mark on his mind. Sleep wouldn't come to him often after the incident. Sometimes he catches his breath halt when a daydream feels too real. But it got better. Until yesterday apparently.

Chan's visions grow fuzzy as his eyelids try to shut down on their own.

Their first practical training inside the arena has thrown Chan's efforts back to the beginning. As entertaining as it had been watching his classmates try to create fire and light up a straw mat hanging around a hardwood pole, the sight left Chan standing with clammy hands and a nervous flutter in his stomach. He had almost sympathy for the teacher, the latter having beads of sweat on his forehead as he interfered whenever his students seemed in danger of lighting each other on fire. 

Chan had to stand outside of the arena during the lesson. For safety, as his teacher said. Chan couldn't complain, though. 

A protection spell got cast over the students to ensure their well-being. It didn't hinder their clothes from suffering, and at the end of the lesson, several blazers lay on the ground smoking, covered with burn marks. The untamed flames and the scent of burnt clothes had sent Chan off. The impressions followed him home, clung to him as he put his school bag into the corner. He found himself spread out in his bed at the end of the day, unable to sleep. 

Chan jumps at the noise of a book hitting a desk. 

"As some little geniuses might have noticed, the yearly Mage Tournament is due in a month."

The teen has not noticed their homeroom teacher entering the classroom. The presence of Mr. Yun is enough to let Chan sit up straight. The earlier fogginess washed away in an instant. Mr. Yun let his gaze wander over the students, a bored expression on his face. "Since I have to, and there is no other way around it, we speak about the rules before we go into the next lesson."

The teacher doesn't bother waiting to explain before he pulls the cap off the pencil and begins to write on the board, his back facing the waiting students. The crumpled shirt stretches around the teacher's well-fed body. Chan only waits for a button to fly away at any second and hit a student between the eyes.

"As you are in your second year, those who are going to attend the tournament are going to do it alone. Two against two is only for years three and above. Fighting with items is only for advanced students as we can't risk more accidents than those that are bound to happen. For this year's tournament, only the top three students in year one and the top six in year two will duel. All students in the years above can decide if they want to participate or not like before."

Almost all of his classmates break out in excited whispers at the news. 

"When are you an advanced student?"

Mr. Yun's expression turns cold at the innocent voice that cuts through the whispers. The girl who asked quickly pulls her hand down as she notices her mistake. The teacher sets the pen down for a moment to turn around. He looks more done with his students today than ever.

"Well, you and most of you do not have to worry your small heads about that. I cannot leave any of you alone with an item before chaos breaks out. Any more questions?"

There is a collective silence hovering over the class.

"That's what I thought," says Mr. Yun as he turns back to the whiteboard. 

"Those who care for your grades will know if they are among the top six. If you don't know, don't bother finding out, you won't be in there. But if you need to quench your thirst for unnecessary information, there will be a hang-out on the blackboard by the beginning of next week."

The students watch the teacher writing, afraid to talk after the biting answer, the only noise from the pencil hitting the board. Mr. Yun turns around again. He puts the cap back onto the pencil and taps with the tip against the board, catching the student's attention.

"To make this as fair as letting children fight can be fair," Mr. Yun pauses, and Chan grimaces slightly as the man seems amused at his joke. "There are rules, what you can and cannot do. Forbidden are; magic items of all kinds, potions, death spells, and usage of dark magic. For advanced students, there are different sets of rules. But that holds no significance to you." Chan wonders if the man would drop dead if he doesn't insult someone every ten minutes.

Mr. Yun walks to the desk and opens the large book he had put on top earlier. With an expression that lacks motivation, he flips through the pages before writing a page number on the whiteboard. 

"You might wonder why dark magic is forbidden in the tournament, because there is always someone ignorant asking. You cannot control it, and we want to avoid you blowing your or each other's heads off. Now, who can tell us why that's the case?"

Mr. Yun's eyes focus on a boy sitting in the front row, who registered the stare too late to avoid eye contact. Chan can see the student's shoulders growing tense from his place.

"Because it's dangerous?" comes the meek answer. 

The deep sigh that follows sends a chill down Chan's spine. The teacher pulls at the collar of his ugly yellow dress shirt, a tick he does when he gets annoyed.

"And why is it dangerous?"

Mr. Yun speaks slowly and enunciates every word as if talking to a toddler. The boy in front of him stutters an answer that doesn't satisfy the teacher. The latter rolls his eyes, not trying to hide the disappointment, and steps back to the teacher's desk before addressing the class.

"Looks like we have to start from the beginning and with an explanation that elementary students would understand since that seems to be the level you are most comfortable with."

At moments like this, Chan wonders how his homeroom teacher gets away with treating a class of rich teens with that much disrespect. He had assumed that, as soon as the students complained about a teacher, it would only take a snap of their parent's fingers, and the person would get fired. But to his surprise, reality seems to work differently.

"There is magic and dark magic," begins Mr. Yun, as he draws a simple chart and writes  magic  on the left and  dark magic  on the right side above the chart. 

"Normal magic, bright magic, or just magic, name it as you like, is everywhere. It is part of everything, alive and dead. It's all around us and in all of us. Dark magic, for the matter, can be found in a few places, but none, with one exception, is alive." 

He writes down the headwords but never stops talking, and it takes a moment before bags and pencil cases get opened when the students realize they should be copying what Mr. Yun writes down. Maybe it's because Mr. Yun hates his students, wants to get this done quickly, or got poor penmanship, but Chan has trouble reading a single word.

"All kinds of magic can transform into another form, for example, by using a spell. The difference between magic and dark magic is the constant need for dark magic to get moved or transformed. Bright magic can stay in one place and one form. It can also get converted or stored at any time without causing damage. Of course, that requires a certain skill level, but it is possible."

Mr. Yun looks back at the students, who are busy trying to pay attention while simultaneously writing down what's on the whiteboard. 

"Why must dark magic be converted sooner or later or better not be moved at all? The answer is simple. Dark magic is very potent and very reactive. It tends to get set free with a power similar to an explosive, making it volatile and hard to control. Having the skill of using dark magic even for a short period is an art in itself. The high potency is why dark magic needs to get converted or kept completely still. The few places and objects need to be out of material that can contain that much power. If the entity is too weak, it will get destroyed sooner or later."

The man puts his hands on the desk and leans forward, his eyes trained with expectations on the five rows of students. 

"Now you have the answer to why you-" He makes a circling motion toward his students. "are not going to use dark magic. To make sure you understand, I want someone to sum it up for us." At that point, Chan is sure their teacher is a sadist. His eyes roaming over the students feel predatory until they stop moving when they espy a fitting prey. 

"What about you? If you are curious about advanced students, this is your chance to get one step closer to being one."

The girl from earlier widens her eyes, clearly caught off guard. She looks around, and her mouth falls open as she notices she got picked despite other students raising their arms to answer. Mr. Yun throws her a look that holds high expectations but, at the same time, looks like he only waits to get disappointed.

"A human's body probably won't be able to handle the dark magic without getting hurt. And it is too hard to control the magic because of its power." The answer sounds astonishingly self-confident. Mr. Yun purses his lips. He doesn't seem pleased, but since it is not wrong, he cannot complain. It does not hinder the teacher from being mean toward his students.

"Not probably. It definitely will tear you to shreds. And since I'm not going to collect your bodies and send them to your parents in a fitting plastic case, we won't be doing anything that has to do with dark magic until I deem it fit."

The girl stares at the teacher, the shock of him raising his voice evident on her face. Mr. Yun is about to say something when the bell rings. It's the first time Chan sees the teacher looking somewhat motivated, although the reason is being able to take a break from teaching his students. "We will get through useful spells for the tournament next time. Bring your notebooks along." With those words, their homeroom teacher walks out of class without a proper goodbye, as usual. 

During the break, the hot topic among the students is the upcoming tournament. Chan had seen the tacky blue-golden posters that hung all over the school yesterday but didn't know it was such an important event. He has not paid much attention to them. Maybe he should skip that day.

"We will start training in the arena this week too." 

Seungkwan put his chair down next to Chan. At first, Chan thought Seungkwan needed a better view to talk to Vernon. But the blond teen proves him wrong by sitting directly next to him, close enough that Chan can feel the heat of Seungkwans thigh. The latter put his meal on Chan's desk with an implicitness as if it were his own. Chan has no choice but to move around until he sits with his back to the window. Seungkwan ignores his perplexed expression and continues his chatter. Chan wonders who Seungkwan is talking to as he's not looking at anyone but speaking while opening his fancy lunchbox.

"They changed the rules. Until last year the first years weren't allowed to participate at all. The two students with the highest grades in the second year were allowed to go. No one knows why the rules are changed this year, and now everyone is talking about it."

Seungkwan passes Vernon a pack of snacks, the latter opening it and laying them out on the table. A moment later, a huge navy blue thermos jug stands on Chan's desk. Chan watches them in confusion until Seungkwan catches his thrown-off expression.

"Don't look like you just saw a ghost, Chan. We are going to sit with you if you like it or not. Don't try acting like the dark, edgy kid sitting in the corner and eating lunch alone." The youngest teen throws the two students a questioning look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why are you doing this?"

Seungkwan puts the snack away, which he had been about to put in his mouth. He heaves a sigh. Chan raises an eyebrow at the action, waiting for an explanation. He gets surprised as Seungkwan's expression turns serious, and the older shifts to face him. 

"I met Jun yesterday. He asked me how you are doing, and I wanted to give him another answer other than  I don't know.  And I couldn't since I don't know. And do you know what he asked?  Aren't you friends ? And again, I said I don't know."

Chan sits silently in his chair as Seungkwan's words patter down, a little too quick for him to follow. He is about to interject Seungkwan, puzzled by the flood of words, but the latter keeps talking without taking a break.

"After we worked on the project together, I thought we became closer. But talking to Jun, I realized that we never voiced that out. I had assumed that you knew that Vernon and I think of you as our friends, but we should have said something. Not to be insulting, but you don't seem like you got many friends, and I think you probably didn't notice that we want to be your friends if we don't say it to you directly."

"Seungkwan, can you-!"

A cookie is shoved into Chan's mouth as he is about to ask Seungkwan to slow down. 

"Thanks, Vernon."

Vernon nods and gestures for Seungkwan to go on. He throws Chan a small smile as he catches the younger throw a glare while chewing on the chocolate-covered treat. He gets caught by surprise as Seungkwan suddenly takes his hands to hold them, looking at Chan with a seriousness he hasn't seen before.

"I hope you didn't though we only hung out because of the project. After it was over, you started to avoid both of us, and we didn't know how to react. We stopped asking you to spend time together, and I regret not being more persistent."

Chan looks at the hands holding his, too stunned to chew the cookie that starts growing soft in his mouth.

"Chan."

He tears his eyes away from their hands and glances up as Seungkwan calls his name. Seungkwan smiles softly at the wide-eyed teen.

"We want to be your friends."

Chan blinks, a bit dumbfounded by the sincerity in Seungkwan's eyes, a mirror to the words he speaks. A tap on his shoulder catches Chan's attention. 

"He's right."

Vernon nods in Seungkwans direction before he looks at the still-puzzled student. 

"We want to be friends with you, Chan."

Chan slowly takes the cookie out of his mouth and puts it on the table, ignoring the grimace Seungkwan pulls at the action. While the older teen takes the half-eaten cookie with mild disgust playing over his features, Vernon leans over his table and holds out a fist in Chan's direction, giving him an encouraging look. Thought a little hesitant, Chan holds out his fist, meeting Vernon halfway. The latter bumps his hand gently against Chan's and throws him another smile that Chan cannot help to return with a chuckle. 

"What's your answer?"

"Okay. Let's be friends."

An unfamiliar warmth washes over him at the sight of Vernon's eyes crinkling into an adorable eye smile. Seungkwan leans closer, throwing an arm over Chan, shoving another cookie in his mouth before ruffling his hair, ignoring Chan's hand that tries to push him away.

"About time, you rascal."

"Rascal? Are you a fifty-year-old man now?"

"Are you looking for a fight, Vernon?"

Chan laughs as Vernon takes a snack and avoids eye contact as easily as breathing while Seungkwan sends a glare. But not without a grin playing on his face.

"I hope you know that he's going to be clingy now," says Vernon while putting a chip in his mouth.

_____________________________________

"That's too much water! How often have you cooked ramen before?"

"Once?"

"I'm starting to believe that."

The chopsticks get taken from his hand, and Seungkwan steps in front of the stove. 

"We should have ordered chicken," mumbles the teen as he stirs through the pot, a frown on his face.

"I thought you wanted ramen?" asks Vernon, sitting on the counter a few feet away, playing on his cell phone.

"Do you see this?"

Seungkwan takes a noodle out of the boiling water, holding it in front of Vernon's face. The noodle doesn't hold up for long. It has grown too soft and breaks, although Seungkwan holds it lightly between the chopsticks. It lands on the counter between the two teens, the red broth pooling around it, a sad sight to see. Chan takes his lemonade, turning away to drink, and simultaneously avoids the pointed look Seungkwan is throwing at him. If Chan thought Seungkwan nagged much before, he has to take that back. Now that Seungkwan seems to have grown more comfortable with him, the nagging got worse, although eighty percent is more worrying than nagging. The other twenty percent is the pure want to get on his nerves. Chan is sure of it. 

"It looks pretty decent to me."

Seungkwan gapes at Vernon, speechless at the teen who takes the chopsticks from him and picks a mouthful of soggy noodles, eating it straight out of the pot. Vernon gives Chan a thumbs-up as he slurps the noodles up. A few drops of broth land on the almost sterile kitchen counter and the tiles below. Chan swears he can see Seungkwan's eyelid twitch. 

"It's good," compliments Vernon, still chewing, and earns a slap against the shoulder from his best friend, getting scolded for eating with his mouth full. Vernon earned his respect. The older knew how to make ignoring Seungkwan look easy. He makes a mental note to ask Vernon what's his secret to archive that level of skill. It sure is going to be helpful in the future.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You aren't granted a second try with the ramen. I plan to eat something without getting food poisoning today."

"Just ask Chan," encourages Vernon. He had inhaled his noodles and set the empty pot aside, not bothering to get down from the kitchen aisle. Seungkwan huffed at getting ignored by the two. He opens two new packs of ramen, placing a second pot on the stove. Chan watches Seungkwan pour the water, amused at the concentrated expression the latter is showing on his face.

"About the tournament, how does it work exactly?"

"Didn't you listen to Mr. Yun in class?"

Chan rolls his eyes.

"I did, but I mean the process of who lines up with or against who? Mr. Yun said something about advanced students and partners."

Seungkwan holds the second package of seasoning in his hands. He seems to be pondering for a moment before pouring the entire content. Chan raises an eyebrow at the boiling water turning red. Deep red.

Not turning away from his cooking, Seungkwan begins to explain.

"Apart from the first and second years, everyone else can decide on their own if they want to participate in the tournament. For those placing high enough is an award waiting, and everyone who participates gets a note on their diploma. It also brings an advantage if you are swinging between two grades. If you place far within the tournament, the teachers often give you a better grade. There are a lot of participants every year because of it."

Seungkwan stirs before fishing a noodle out and holding it out for Chan. 

"There are duels and two against two matches. Apart from the first and second years, students of the higher years can decide if they want to participate solo or with a partner. First and second-years aren't allowed in partner matches. Most students choose a friend or classmate for their partner match. You can register yourself for the tournament by sending your name in. The school put up a website, especially for it."

They sit at the kitchen table, and Chan gets a new pair of chopsticks. 

"The whole event goes on for two days. It starts with the two against two matches, and the follow-up is the duels. The highlight is the duels of the advanced students on the second day of the tournament."

"Don't try to get tangled in any bets on that day," throws Vernon casually from the side. 

"Bets?" asks Chan in wonder, questioning if he had understood correctly.

"The teachers try to prevent them, but only halfheartedly. It's basically like sports wagering. Three days before the event, the matches and duels get announced. As soon as the information is out, there are always some who place bets. Who wins or loses against whom, what kind of injuries will occur, and so on." Seungkwan sounds unimpressed as if that information is a matter of course. 

"Just avoid going to the library on those days."

"They make bets in the library?" Chan puts his chopsticks down as he stares at Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for them to jump up and laugh at him for believing their joke.

"Just don't go there, and you're good," says Vernon, but it does little to make Chan feel less unsettled. He notes the new information in his head before going on.

"Betting on the team matches is no fun anyway," mutters Seungkwan while taking hold of a ton of noodles. Chan gives him a questiong look but receives no answer, leaving him to shrug it off. Whatever that means.

"What about the advanced students and items?"

"The event is held on the training grounds. You saw how the arena gets set up for our lessons, right?"

Chan nods and continues eating while listening closely.

"Each year, there are different setups for the arena. Partaking students draw lots to decide who will fight there. It's a precaution to avoid getting a headstart and trying to think of strategies before the actual match. In the arena of the advanced fights, a magic item gets hidden. No one knows what kind of item it is. The purpose of those matches is to test the students and their knowledge of how to work with items. Something wrong?" 

Chan shakes his head. 

"I'm just surprised hearing you talk for so long," he answers truthfully.

Seungkwan chuckles at that without humor. 

"Don't provoke him, or he won't shut up about random stuff for the next few hours."

"Random stuff?" 

"Take his obsession with cat videos as an example. If he starts watching those, you have to watch them too. And he gets pouty when you don't give feedback before jumping to the next topic."

Vernon is about to protest, but Chan butts in before he can argue with his friend.

"Cat videos?"

The teen in front of him looks a little embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. 

"They are pretty cute, you know?"

When Chan keeps looking at Vernon with nothing but sheer interest, the flustered expression changes into a small smile.

"Want me to show you some on the television?"

Vernon points his thumb over his back. Chan's eyes follow up to the large screen in the open living room, and he nods before beginning to eat faster.

Seungkwan stares at the two in disbelief. "You two are guests here, you know?"

As soon as Chan clears his food, he stands up to follow Vernon into the living room. Seungkwan gapes at them, still sitting at the kitchen table. He quickly gets up with a clutter of the chair. 

"Are you kidding me?"

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 9)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

Spotify-Playlist for this fanfic

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

His mouth feels dry, tongue darting over chapped lips. Various fragrances are in the air, but the scent of something burnt is what's sending Chan's senses over the edge. His throat closes up, and his heart starts to beat faster in his chest. He cannot breathe properly. Deep down, a tingling sensation begins to forebode the drastic unloading of locked magic. 

It's a mechanism to provide energy to fight or flee if Chan hadn't years of experience to push it down deeper and lock it away tighter. Although he has the magic under control, the pressing sensation only causes the panic to double. The young teen feels himself gasping to breathe. He does not register the movement in front, causing him to flinch badly at a sudden touch on his arm. It tears him out of the whirlpool of sensations, emotions, and memories about to drown him. 

Jun's eyes widen at the violent reaction. His hand is still hovering over the younger's arm, unsure if a touch, meaning to give comfort, would cause another flinch. The teen blinks a few times, and Jun can see how his eyes dart around as if to assure himself where he is. 

"Are you alright?"

It takes a moment before Chan is back, in reality, recognizing the surroundings. He can breathe again. His heart beats fast, pumping blood and the little stream of magic that slipped past his tight grasp through his body.

"Please don't ask me what happened."

He takes the tea, not tasting anything as the liquid runs down his throat.

"Excuse me?"

Jun is confused at the sudden request. He watches Chan pushing his hair back with a slight tremor in his hand. 

"That day you two sent me home," continues Chan, eyes directed on his fingers instead of Jun, who listens with a worried expression. He wrings his finger together to force the shaking to stop.

"We both know something happened. I don't want to talk about it. If it's about the pullover, I can buy a new one. It won't take long. Just send me the amount-"

"This is not about the pullover, Chan."

The tone of Jun's voice causes Chan to look up after he gets cut off mid his rushing stream of words. 

"A piece of cloth is not worth worrying over. I'm worried about you."

Jun holds his hand out for Chan, but the younger ignores the gesture. Dark eyes stare at Jun without a real focus causing him to worry more. He feels like the younger is looking right through him. 

"I didn't ask you to."

The words come out as a nearly silent whisper. 

"What?"

This time, Chan looks right into his eyes, his voice growing steadier but at the same time colder. The absence of emotion in Chan's voice and what flickers in his eyes paint an incongruent image.

"I didn't ask you to worry about me. It's kind of you, but nothing about what happens to me is any of your business."

He can already imagine Minghao storming up at him, demanding an apology after learning how he spoke to Jun. The latter looks crestfallen at the words thrown at him. The heaviness in Chan's chest has nothing to do with memories of what had happened. Right now, its cause is sheer guilt. He never means to hurt anyone, but he cannot risk pulling everyone showing kindness to him into the mess he would leave wherever he went.

Chan takes his stuff and stands up. 

"Don't be kind to me. Please."

The tea grows cold by the time Chan walks out of the room, leaving a confused and hurt Jun behind. He avoids going near the art room and anywhere close to the floor after he meets with Jun. Chan expected Minghao to come after him, but it seemed like the older teen had not told his close friend about what had happened.

Still, Chan kept looking out for either of the Chinese students, not wanting to run into them by chance. Vernon and Seungkwan have caught onto his behavior change and kept their distance. They asked if he wanted to meet after school or eat together but never pushed after Chan declined every single time. A week went over the same pattern of Chan rejecting, avoiding, and hiding. They stopped asking him and a new, seemingly calmer week began.

"Today, we are going to the greenhouses to look at some of the plants we have been talking about," tells Mrs. Kim, the students of her potion class.

They have to walk in pairs, and Chan watches Vernon and Seungkwan going up to the door while other students complain about them not going to daycare, although Chan is not sure what they mean. A hand grabs the back of his blazer, pulling him back forcefully. 

"Why don't we walk together, hm?"

Sejong grins at Chan before he kicks into the hollow of his knee. Chan stumbles, jaw clenching as his knee hits the floor. He gets dragged behind Sejong by his wrist. His eyes unwittingly wander to the back of Vernon and Seungkwan's heads, but not once looked either of them back.

They walk at the end of the class, out of the eyes of their teacher. Inside the greenhouse, Sejong lets up from Chan to walk behind Mr. Kim to be the first to answer her questions. To Chan's annoyance, he feels incredibly relieved as Sejong lets go of his wrist, his attention elsewhere. Chan can only watch in sick wonder how Sejong turns into a teacher's pet the second an opportunity hits. They round the corner of one of the trails as the line of students stops. 

"What kind of plant is this? Did we always have this here?"

The chaotic murmurs made the teacher walk through the crowd of students. Chan glances over the head of his classmates. He needs to stand on his tiptoes to see what lies in front of them. A familiar glow of dark tendrils greets his eyes. Mr. Kim stops in front of the mysterious plant that has lost its flowers over time. She furrows her brows.

"Has anyone here touched the plant?"

They deny her question, heads turning around, but no one nods their head. One of the boys in front steps forward and gazes at the thick plant in wonder.

"What kind of plant is that, Mrs. Kim?"

"It's a Devil's Breath. And it's carrying fruit."

Mrs. Kim picked one of the fruits that hung from the tree over their heads. As soon as she plugs the ripe fruit, the branch loses its glow and turns black. The leaves curl up and grow stiff, almost looking like they have turned to stone. The fruit inside the teacher's hand still emits a soft, colorful light.

It is the size of an apple, but its appearance looks more like a peach if it weren't for the dark blue-violet color that shimmers almost black. Mr. Kim picks out a pair of gloves and a small knife from her bag. She puts on the gloves before carefully cutting the fruit. A thick violet juice leaks out of the cut and onto the gloves. Some of the drops land on the floor. The places where the honey-like liquid hits the ground begins to sizzle slightly, and the students standing in the first row shuffle back nervously.

An overwhelmingly sweet scent begins to impregnate the air. Chan feels almost intoxicated by the dense mix of saccharine-floral and a touch of vanilla laying heavily on his tongue as he breathes in. No one else seems taken back by the change in the air as everyone is taken in by the plant Mrs. Kim points at.

"Everything about a Devil's Breath is poisonous to humans, from the roots to its fruit," explains Mr. Kim as she tears the rest of the fruit apart, showing the inside to her students. 

"Don't breathe in too deeply while you stand close," she advises her students, wiping her gloves on her apron. 

"The nacre-colored fruit flesh is lanced by violet threads, showing the fruit is ready to be harvested. The lines can be seen through the dark peel if the fruit is held under bright light. But the real treasure of a Devil's Breath lies not in the fruit flesh."

Someone lets out a surprised scream when Mr. Kim suddenly takes the knife and smashes it into one half of the fruit. She turns the knife experienced inside the flesh, causing more fruit juice to leak onto the ground before she plucks a seed out of the flesh. What she holds looks like a tiny black diamond, all sharp edges, and cuts. Chan's eyes fixate on the opalescent black stone instantly, drawn in by the dark energy that radiates out of the stone. How could he not have sensed this amount of energy before? The count of ripe fruits hanging down the tendrils begins to seem alarming.

"This seed contains an incredible amount of black magic. I am not set on how far Mr. Yun has taught you about the kinds of magic. He will have to tell you more about it if it's time.”

"Mrs. Kim, I cannot remember seeing the Devil's Breath bloom before. How is that possible now?"

Mrs. Kim’s expression turns grim at the question.

“I would like to know that too,” the young woman mumbles, and Chan nearly has not caught her words over the questions his classmates are throwing at the teacher. The class gets dismissed shortly after. The greenhouses are locked up on the same day. They closed it because of restoration, but rumors about a potentially dangerous plant that caused the greenhouses to go into quarantine until its removal traveled fast. 

That day Chan manages to barely avoid Sejong on his way home. It was a coincidence. He had seen, well heard, the blond guy that had been with Joshua the other day, causing Chan to turn on his heels. He walked down the corridor until he could not hear the voice anymore and went for the first door leading outside he could find. Later on, he saw Sejong with some other students standing next to the door he would have taken. 

It is starting to get slightly warmer. The snow is replaced by heavy rainfall, but the gray clouds stay the same. Water drips down jet black-black hair, running down his neck and hands. The ring clings coldly against his finger as Chan puts the code into the keyboards of his apartment door. A white umbrella leans against the nearest closet, standing next to the entrance. The tip of the umbrella stands in a small puddle of rainwater. Chan freezes in the doorframe, hand holding onto the door tightly. A raindrop trails down the white plastic before getting lost in tracks of water left by older droplets.

"Chan?"

A familiar white wool coat hangs on the garderobe left to the door, the only piece of clothing on the empty rack. Heels clack loud as they walk over wood, coming near. He has to let go of the door as it gets pulled open, letting him stumble into the entrance. A concerned face appears in his vision.

"Hello, mother."

"Darling, I told you to call me mom when we are alone."

His mother looks older since the last time he has seen her. A hint of bags under her eyes that cannot be concealed when looked at close gave away sleepless nights. Hair and make-up are flawless and presentable as always. The boy tenses up as his mother rushes over, hands on his cheek as she inspects his face. Her brows furrow at the pale complexion of her son. Chan keeps still as she holds a hand onto his forehead. 

"Baby, you are burning up. You need to take more care of yourself. Why did you not agree to get a driver?" She speaks the last part of the sentence more to herself as she takes a small step back. Her hands stay on his shoulders while she scans him up and down. Chan notices the minuscule of her gaze staying in one place. He follows her eyes and realizes she has been looking at the dirt dusting his knees. No comment follows.

"You never asked me for a driver."

"Quickly dress into something dry. We need to get you something to eat."

He gets ignored as his mother leaves him standing inside the door. He slowly follows her inside. She is already working in the kitchen, the sight leaving Chan feeling foreign in his own place. While putting his school bag away, he finds the paper and books on his desk neatly organized. The clothes on the couch and next to his bed are put away. The whole apartment is tidied up. 

"How long have you been here?" asks Chan as he takes the pinstriped pajama that lay ready on his bed. He eyes the expensive-looking textile, having not seen the clothes before.

"Oh, I arrived just minutes ago."

The bathroom feels sterile as he steps into it. He let cold water run over his face before splashing his face. Having reached home, Chan had prepared to finally let himself go after today. Now he has to hold onto his walls tighter than ever before, although the fatigue he feels for several days makes it hard to keep the stones from falling. What is his mother doing here? What does she want? 

"Chan? Chan!"

Chan hurries out of the bath. A plate with grayish steaming porridge waits on top of the kitchen table. The boy is about to get a spoon and sit down when his mother suddenly stands beside him. Without a word, she reaches out and forcefully tears the silverware out of his hand. Her neatly ironed blouse crumples as she pushes him away and bends over to take the food. 

"Go to bed."

"I can eat while sitting dow-"

"I said go to bed!"

Chan stands wide-eyed in his pajamas next to the table, the skin on the back of his hand red where she hit his hand, reaching for the plate. Her shrill voice and the sudden increase in volume let him shrink together. He cannot do anything but nod silently, not wanting to upset his mother further, and climb into bed. His mother is immediate at his sight and puts the pillow for him against the headboard. She tucks the blanket tightly over his legs up to his middle before she sets a small tablet on his legs. 

"I prepared this just for you. Be careful, sweetheart. It is still hot." 

Chan nods before he mumbles a soft thank you as she hands him the spoon again. He eats in silence under the watchful eye of his mother. She sits on the edge of his bed, a hand put on top of his ankle. 

"Take this, honey. It will help you get better."

He knew better than to start arguing that he was not sick. Chan took the medication without questioning, which earned him a warm smile from the woman in front of him. 

"My sweet baby. It makes me sick thinking of you living all alone so far away. It is hard without your mother, right?"

"It's alright. Mom."

She lets out a suspiciously shaky breath.

"Look at you, trying to be all grown up."

She tucks him in, a warm hand gently pushing strands out of his forehead to check his temperature. 

"You always get sick so easily," there is a tremor in her voice as she speaks. "It makes me wonder how it would be if you were healthy for once. Your father and I always wish for your condition to get better Chan. It's hard to make friends like this, right? My poor baby."

A wet shimmer covers her warm and comforting eyes while the coldness of her words cuts deep. She keeps sitting even after Chan finishes eating, fretting over him. Her hand threads through his damp hair, musing over the locks that start curling after it has gotten wet. 

"Look at those beautiful eyes. They are like your fathers."

Chan turns his head away. His mother lets up from his face, hand falling into her lap. 

"I'm tired, mom."

"Sleep well, darling. I will be going now. Please, answer my calls from now on, alright."

Chan nods. She cups his cheek before planting a soft kiss against his forehead. Chan closes his eyes before he drifts off to the sound of his mother closing the door.

When he woke up, he was alone again. The apartment shows traces of where his mother had looked around. It is not only tidied but there are shelves left open she had looked through. The refrigerator is filled with all kinds of food. After finding the package from the store where his mother had bought the porridge in the trash, Chan knew better than to assume it was self-made. He never saw his mother cook before.

A tired glance into the bathroom mirror throws an equally exhausted gaze back at him. While Chan takes his lenses out, he notices a small package lying next to the case for his contact lenses. Emerald-green eyes that carry a barely visible lighter shade of green circling around a midnight dark pupil inspect the package. There is a pair of new contact lenses inside, the same brown color as Chan's current lenses, the ones that his mother had praised.

"Just like my father's."

A sour taste lies in Chan's mouth as he snaps the lid of the tiny box down. It lands with a clatter in one of the cabinets.

______________________________________________

At the end of the month, Vernon, Seungkwan, and Chan hand in their report. They collected the signs successfully, and Mrs. Kim thanked them after she took the papers. 

"Finally free," mumbles Seungkwan as they step out of the teacher's office. Chan and Vernon were ready to leave the classroom, but Seungkwan had to go to the library again. He needed to get the last sign from those who had supervised his work. As far as Chan had noted, it wasn't a teacher who looked after Seungkwan. He had heard the other complain about an older student that would tease him.

"It was not that bad," says Vernon, impressing Chan. Considering his pollen allergy, that is pretty positive feedback.

"Easy for you to say, flower boy. The library sucks."

Vernon chuckles at Seungkwan complaining. Seungkwan continues to talk, his bag swinging back and forth while walking. "One person looks like he will rip your head off if you breathe too loud, and the other person is annoying beyond belief." Chan walks next to them, only listening.

"Are you talking about Wo-," Vernon gets cut off by someone walking in a bee-line their way, waving at them as they step closer. 

"Annoying beyond belief sounds right," thinks Chan with a frown as Jeonghan stands before them, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

"What a coincidence to meet you three here."

He sounds cheery as his eyes fall on Chan, and his grin widens. That alone is enough to let the teen know meeting Jeonghan is by no means a coincidence.

"What are you doing on this floor?" asks Seungkwan, eyebrows raised in surprise to see their senior on the floors of the second year. 

"Oh, I had something to sort out in the student council."

"You are part of the student council?"

Chan couldn't conceal his surprise. Jeonghan looks amused at Chan's question. 

"I'm not part of the student council. I only help a friend out from time to time." 

"A friend?"

His question gets ignored as Jeonghan turns to Seungkwan and Vernon, looking sullen out of nowhere. 

"Would you two mind me lending your friend for a moment? I have something to discuss with Chan."

"With Chan?"

Seungkwan looks with a raised eyebrow from Jeonghan to Chan. Jeonghan smiles sweetly, while Chan can only scowl at the older. 

"It won't take long. I'll bring him back without a scratch," jokes the senior as he reaches out to link his arm under Chan's. Chan glares at the unwanted skinship but keeps still as he sees the silent warning in Jeonghan's eyes. Defeated, Chan let the older teen pull him to his side before turning to his classmates. Seungkwan wears a little pout before he puts his back bag on appropriately.

"Well, there is nothing we can do. We will leave first. See you tomorrow."

Jeonghan wishes them a nice day before tugging Chan along. As soon as they are out of Seungkwan and Vernon's vision, Chan pulls his arm out of Jeonghan's hold. 

"What do you want?"

"Have you forgotten our deal already?"

Jeonghan tilts his head, giving him a questioning glance. Of course, Chan had not forgotten about it. He had waited for the following message, not expecting the senior to seek him out openly in front of his classmates. He would have preferred getting a text. Having Jeonghan searching for him just draws unwanted attention. He tells the older his thoughts, earning a smirk

"Secretive, aren't we?"

Jeonghan probably won't text him next time. He should have guessed by the older student's behavior so far that Jeonghan likes to do what you want him not to do. Chan should have thought of that.

"Tea?"

At this point, Chan wonders if every break room in the school owns its own kitchen. 

"No, thank you."

Jeonghan sits in front of him after pouring himself a cup. 

"You haven't told me that you were homeschooled until now."

"You could have asked," retorts Chan simply. Seeing Jeonghan raise his eyebrow at the curt answer only brought short-lived satisfaction. The interest of the senior seems to grow more at the answer. Jeonghan stirs his tea before he begins talking again.

"You were homeschooled until now and are here on a scholarship. You transferred in the middle of the year but have no trouble tagging along. Grades are on top of the classes, and your teachers cannot give out anything but praise. At the same time, no one but the teachers seems to know about your background. No one knows which family you are from."  

Chan grows wary at the sudden flood of information Jeonghan puts in front of him, not stopping here.

"You and your classmates do not get along, with a few expectations. You managed to get a load of extra work as punishment for destroying school property. The incident did not get put into your personal information, though. Isn't that interesting?" Jeonghan folds his fingers together before setting his chin on top, staring at Chan expectantly. 

"Is that your question?" asks Chan drily, doing excellent work at keeping an indifferent expression. It does not sit well with Chan how the senior collects that much information about him. Jeonghan chuckles lightly, putting the spoon aside. Chan watches him with crossed arms. 

"That is not my question, no," denies Jeonghan. "I'll be honest with you, Chan. I don't believe you, not knowing why you are here. You must at least have a guess." 

The younger teen listens with a straight face.

"But since you won't tell me everything now, I'll leave it at that."

Chan raises at the mention of " now " but does not comment on it. Jeonghan could keep dreaming if he thought Chan would tell him more than he could avoid giving. 

"My question for this meeting is rather simple. How do you know Minghao?"

Chan's eyebrows shot up. He has not expected that. He frowns at giving it a closer thought. Considering the information, Jeonghan had about him, it seems he has done the research, asking people about Chan. He had seen Minghao trying to interfere when Joshua had been cornering him. Jeonghan asking about his and Minghao's relationship could only mean Jeonghan is in no position to ask Minghao directly. Chan's mind wanders farther. The probability of Jeoghan knowing about Chan knowing, not only Minghao but also Jun, is relatively small. If the senior should find out about Jun and Chan being involved with each other, it is going to be problematic.

Chan's only hope would be that Minghao told his friend about the incident with Joshua and Jeonghan being here. It could refrain Jun from giving Jeonghan all the answers he wants, including the detail about the burnt pullover. If Jeonghan gets word of it, Chan will find himself cornered. But looking back at how Chan had talked to Jun, he doubts the older teen would guard his information now. That being completely understandable, Chan had acted like an idiot, regretting it more than ever at this very moment. He has to think wisely, doing everything to avoid Jeonghan, taking Jun into consideration. From what Chan had noticed, Minghao and Jun's friendship seems well known around the school. 

Jeonghan keeps looking at him as Chan steps out of his spiraling thoughts, a corner of his lips tugged upwards. Chan ignores the amused expression. 

"We destroyed a window."

It feels good to see Jeonghan surprised for once, although it held on for only a few seconds. 

"A spell did not work out as expected, and the cube flew out of the window. Vernon stayed with Seungkwan while I went outside to get it back."

Jeonghan hangs on every word, letting Chan shift on his seat under the intense stare. 

"It snowed a lot on that day. Finding the cube was not easy as it kept getting darker. Minghao had seen me outside and decided to help me search for it. We finally found it after it got dark outside. Because of the broken window, we got extra work to compensate for the costs."

"Minghao saw you outside and helped you out?" repeats Jeonghan. 

"Yes," confirms Chan with a nod, wishing for Jeonghan to let go of the topic now.

"Just as expected," says Jeonghan, causing Chan to wonder what had been just as expected. 

"Well, thank you for the explanation. That had been more than I would have expected from you to tell me." Chan watches with mild disgust as Jeonghan shovels three teaspoons of sugar into his mug before taking a sip. 

"You are rather docile today."

"Do you want me to curse you?" asks Chan with a scowl. 

"Forget what I said. You are as lovely as ever." laughs Jeonghan, giving Chan an adoring grin that makes Chan want to pour the seniors tea down the sink. 

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 8)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

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Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

Outside in the hallway stood a semicircle of excited students. For once, the winter sky got not overhung by clouds. The sun freely casts its light. It falls in from the windows and shines onto the teen who waits in front of them. Fiery red hair bound into a high ponytail ends at the height of a slender neck, glowing from being illuminated. A collection of strands get carefully held by a subtly placed golden hairpin. Chan would join the stunned students, awed by the almost prince-like sight if he had not recognized who was waiting in front of their classroom.

"Jeonghan?"

A pair of observant eyes glance up. Chan avoids looking at the older as the dark eyes fall on him for a second, studying him before Jeonghan’s attention turns to Seungkwan. The slightly taller teen pushes himself away from the wall and walks over, a grin on his face as he greets them cheerfully.

"Seungkwan and Vernon! My favorite juniors."

"What about Seokmin and Soonyoung?" asks Seungkwan with a raised eyebrow, a smile on his face as Jeonghan puts a hand on his shoulder.

"They are my favorites when they are within hearing range," laughs Jeonghan. He turns to Chan. Now that Chan had heard him talk in more than one sentence, he noticed that the older teen's voice was higher than expected. Jeonghan's eyes fall onto Vernon's arm, which lays loosely around Chan's shoulder. He speaks to Seungkwan, smiling kindly.

"Would you introduce your friend to me?" 

Seungkwan is about to say something when Chan cuts him off by laying a hand on his arm. He could speak for himself. The youngest steps forward, which leads Vernon to drop his arm. Chan ignores the murmurs around them while standing in front of the senior, extending his hand. He does not sound kind, but neither lets any of the discomforts he feels bleed into his words.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Lee Chan."

He feels a touch of irritation by the corner of Jeonghan's lips moving upwards. 

"Yoon Jeonghan. Nice to meet you."

Neither of them comments that this is not their first time meeting. The two shake hands before Chan gets cast aside as Jeonghan turns back to Seungkwan, asking if he could lend him a moment of his time. 

"The third years had practical classes, and I got assigned cleaning the classroom, but I got ditched by my partner. Twenty desks and chairs need to be brought back into the classroom."

Seungkwan laughs at the older student complaining with a whine as he leads them up into the corridor of the older grades. Like Jeonghan had said, there was no one in the emptied classroom as they walked past and glanced through the open door. The red-haired student showed them the desk and chairs before they began to work.

Chan does not join the conversation, silently carrying the desks and avoiding looking at Jeonghan. He knew he was getting observed by him as he worked, deciding to ignore the stares. They had moved half off the tables when Jeonghan suddenly stopped and gasped in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” asks Seungkwan, who had caught his surprised expression.

“I have completely forgotten to tell you something,” begins Jeonghan, turning around with the attention of the three students on him, looking a little embarrassed. Seeing the older flustered made Seungkwan curious, and Vernon also sat at the table he held down in expectation.

“I met Mr. Choi as I passed the teacher's office. He asked me to tell you and Vernon to go see him as soon as possible," explains Jeonghan.

“And you are telling us this now?” Seungkwan lets out a sigh, looking troubled. Jeonghan sends him an apologetic smile.

“I am sorry. You two better hurry. Chan and I can finish the rest of this alone.” He hushes Seungkwan forward, shoving him lightly to the stairs leading down. 

"Is this okay?" asks Seungkwan, sounding unsure as Jeonghan rushes him and Vernon."

"Don't you trust me, Seungkwan? Don't let your teacher wait," says Jeonghan with a laugh.

“Thank you, Jeonghan.” Seungkwan turns to Chan, who watches the whole exchange warily.

“Chan, we come back as soon as we can, okay?”

Chan suppresses a sigh. This is starting to get annoying. 

“You don't have to. It won’t take long to clean up.”

Jeonghan watches them with a lopsided smile drawn on his face. Chan wants to throw the chair that stood next to him as Jeonghan goes as far as to wink at him with a grin, not getting caught by Chan's friends as they were standing with their backs turned to him.

“We try to hurry. See you later, Chan. Bye Jeonghan.”

Seungkwan takes Vernon’s hand and hurries down the stairs. Jeonghan waves after them before pushing a loose strand behind his ear. He is carrying an expression that showcases that he is amusing himself greatly.

Chan feels annoyed to fall into the schemes of someone like Jeonghan. 

“What do you want?”

“Oh?” The senior turns to Chan with played surprise. “Who would have thought you would be so feisty as soon as you are alone?”

“I don’t want to repeat myself,” says Chan, taking the chair next to him. It was better to get this done quickly.

“I am simply curious," says Jeonghan calmly. He sits down on one of the desks and leans back on his arms with a confidence that makes it seem like he had never been denied anything in his life before.

“About what?” Chan had to hold himself back to not snap at the older student. He knew Jeonghan was trying to get him to lose his cool. 

“Hmm, where do I begin?" The red-haired teen bends forward and crosses his legs, able to look elegant even by sitting on a school desk. The loose strand from before hangs back down into Jeonghan's face. 

"There are a few interesting things. For example, why are you here?"

It feels like his eyes were trying to bore themselves into his head, too impatient to wait for an answer and instead pull it out of Chan's head by himself.

“You asked me to come," says Chan with a sigh. He puts the chair back down. Chan hoped the senior would get bored sooner or later, but the amused sparkle in Jeonghan’s eyes promised it won't end quickly. Jeonghan let out a chuckle, tilting his head slightly. 

“You know that is not what I meant. Don't you agree that it is unusual for someone to join this kind of academy in the middle of the year? There must be a reason for your sudden transfer. I’m merely curious about it.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” He turns his back towards the senior, not caring what is polite and what is not. There is no one around anyway, and Chan is sick of having to pretend. All the more, if he has to deal with something as annoying as a nosy senior.

Jeonghan smiles at his remark. It is the smile of condescending someone, the smile an adult would give to a child after being told something presumably naive. 

“I would refrain from running off if I were in your position, Chan. It’s going to get complicated if you do." 

There is a change in atmosphere as Jeonghan's cheery voice grows cold.

Chan knew that this was not a warning. It’s a threat.

“You will regret walking off.”

Chan slowly retreats his foot, which is hovering in the air. He turns around and glares at Jeonghan, who sends him a smug grin.

“What are you planning to do?”

Jeonghan takes his cell phone out of his pocket before showing Chan the screen. Chan has a hunch about where this is going, and it causes anger to mix with fear, building an unpleasant pressure in his stomach.

“This is Joshua’s number. I’m sure you remember him.”

How could he not remember? Jeonghan continues talking, not bothered by the daggers thrown at him.

“How about we make a deal? You answer one of my questions every time we meet, and I will not tell Joshua which class you are in?”

Chan cannot help but huff at the ridiculous proposal.

“That’s blackmail. Sooner or later, he will find out anyway. Why would I agree to that?”

“It might be blackmail. But the longer Joshua is not going to find out about it, the more his anger towards you has time to cool down. The last time I saw you together, Joshua looked rather upset. How would he react if I told him I know where you are right now?"

“How many questions do you have?”

Jeonghan’s smile widens.

“For now, there are three in total.”

“For now?” repeats Chan, doubting his ears.

“Okay, we will leave it at three. It would be too much to make a deal and add questions. That would seem unfair.”

At this point, Chan knew he had no choice but to play along. If he manages to anger the older teen now, who knows what he is about to pull next? He clenches his fist.

“Deal.”

Jeonghan claps into his hands, getting up swiftly from the desk with a grin.

“It's a deal then.”

__________________________________________

The first time he received a message from Jeonghan, he had just finished cleaning the training grounds. There had been no extraordinary setups inside the arena. It was a simple field, and Chan had nothing more to do than to collect the training utensils that lay strayed out over the grass. As usual, cleaning up was finished in a few minutes, and he returned to the main building in twenty minutes. Chan was about to lock the entrance with the bag of lost items hanging down his shoulder when he got a notification. 

He walks to main building two, having to look on the map next to the entrance to get an idea of where he is heading. He finds the older student in a lounge sitting close to the windows. Jeonghan reads as he approaches the table that stands a little isolated from the small groups of studying students. His hair is bound differently today, hanging over his shoulder, and Chan notices his golden hairpin got exchanged for a silver-colored one. Knowing he does not have a chance to get away quickly, Chan takes the chair in front of Jeonghan and sits down. Chan sits silently, waiting for the older to stop reading. While he waits, his fingers wander over the dark-colored wooden fibers of the table, engrossed in his thoughts when he notices Jeonghan finally stopped reading. 

"You were quick." 

It sounds like praise but could be ridicule coming from Jeonghan. Chan let it wash over him, already tired of being in the older teens' presence. 

"Your question."

"Getting straight to the point, I see." Jeonghan shoves his book to the side, dark eyes locking with Chan's. Chan frowns slightly at the sight of the cover. "It's the same as last time. Where did you transfer from and why?"

"That are two questions."

Jeonghan chuckles, fingers tapping excitedly on the table before he folds them together. Two golden rings adorn Jeonghan's index and pointer finger of his left hand, while a denser one circles his right thumb. 

"Why did you transfer then?"

The reaction takes Chan by surprise. From their earlier encounters, he had expected Jeonghan to force him to answer both questions while saying he changed his mind on the terms of their deal. Jeonghan was aware since the start of being at a clear advantage. 

"I don't know," he says while avoiding the other student's eyes. He isn't lying

Jeonghan purses his lips at the unexpected answer. 

"You don't know," he repeats, nodding his head as if Chan's answer had made perfect sense. Chan could care less what the other thought, putting his hands on the table as he stood up. He raises an eyebrow at the long fingers closing around his wrist.

"Sit down."

He scowls at Jeonghan, who grins in return.

"I won't," bites Chan back, but Jeonghan's grip tightens around his wrist.

"Stay."

"That's not part of the deal," retorts the younger student. Chan pulls out of the hold and takes his bag, about to walk away, when he hears Jeonghan talking, freezing at the words.

"Joshua? Hey, what are you doing right now?"

His jaw clenches as he turns around. He glares at Jeonghan, who holds his cell phone close to his ear, grinning smugly.

"You are pretending," says Chan, not wanting to believe Jeonghan is blackmailing him again. Jeonghan tilts his head to the side as if Chan had just challenged him. He takes the cell phone from his ear, setting the device on speaker. 

"Jeonghan? Hello?"

Some heads turn in their direction as Joshua's voice echoes loudly through the lounge for everyone to hear. 

"Why did you call?"

"Oh, I just missed your voice. Are you alone?" asks Jeonghan cheerily.

"Nah, I'm with Cheol at the moment. Someone has to help him go through math without breaking his brain," comes the answer, and Chan thinks he hears someone cursing in the back. Jeonghan raises his eyebrow, silently asking Chan if he's still pretending. Chan rolls his eyes and sits back down. Jeonghan ends the call, cheerily telling his friends he will meet them later before he puts the phone down.

"I want to change our deal a bit," says Jeonghan with a smile. He continues talking, not waiting for Chan's reaction. 

"You are going to stay with me for," he puts a finger against his lip, pretending to be deep in thought before snapping his finger. "Let's say an hour."

Chan frowns as soon as he hears the demand.

"What? Why?"

Chan is shocked at the sudden declaration. Why does he have to put up with all of Jeonghan's whims? What meaning held their deal if he just did whatever he wanted? It's getting ridiculous. Jeonghan smiles and takes his book. He opens the book at the pages separated by a makeshift bookmark made of a blue piece of paper. Chan frowns. What's the point of keeping him here if he just went back to reading? Chan cannot understand what the older student is thinking. Knowing he cannot go home soon, Chan pulls out his notes, deciding to do his homework if he has to sit here anyway. 

It feels weird to work with Jeonghan calmly reading in front of him. The raven-haired teen throws some glances at the older. Jeonghan seems engrossed by  The History of Dark Magic , and although Chan frowns at the choices of literature, he cannot help but admit that the older has the image of a picture-perfect model student. Who knew this navy blue blazer adorned with pompous golden accents could look good on someone? Images of Jun and Minghao flash through his mind, and Chan takes the first thought back. It is probably just him who feels out of place wearing the luxurious school uniform.

"What do you want to ask?"

Chan is surprised by the sudden question. He notices Jeonghan glancing at him over the cover of the book. 

"I have no questions."

"Is that so?"

Jeonghan closes the book again, putting it on his lap. 

"What have you been staring at me for then? It's hard to ignore."

Chan feels his face growing hot. He scowls at the student for a second time, embarrassed to get caught staring.

"I'll let you ask me something too," suggests Jeonghan, but Chan doubts it's an act out of pure generosity. 

"I'm not curious about you," is his answer. He opens a purple marker, circling a critical passage in his notes. 

"It does not have to be about me. I'll answer anything you ask."

Jeonghan is observing him closely. Chan tries to concentrate on his homework, but it's challenging with Jeonghan's eyes on him. With a click, he closes the marker, putting it aside. 

"You could be lying."

The strand is back in Jeonghan's face. He blows it to the side but has to put it back as it keeps falling in front of his eyes.

"I could be. But what would I get out of that?"

Chan didn't know an answer to that. Not able to concentrate on his work, he decides to humor the older student. Several questions made Chan curious. But In the end, he chooses the one that had followed him for some days.

"What happened between Minghao and Joshua?"

"I cannot answer that question."

"You just said-"

"I know what I said, but that is not my place to tell. Please, ask me again."

Chan huffs in annoyance. 

He should have expected that. The younger teen takes a moment before voicing his next question.

"What is Joshua and Vernon's relationship?"

"Vernon and Joshua's families are close. Vernon is like a brother to Joshua. As you have witnessed, Joshua gets very protective about him," explains Jeonghan.

A humorless laugh escapes Chan. As if he had not noticed that. Sitting with Jeonghan caused them to receive some attention, but Chan noticed that the other students stopped throwing them glances.

"Do you get along with your classmates?"

The question causes Chan to raise an eyebrow. 

"I don't see where that is any of your business," he replies, getting defensive at the directness. Jeonghan hums. "So you don't."

"As I said, it has nothing to do with you."

There was no point in denying it. Jeonghan had probably figured it out anyway. Chan noticed the older student is very observant and has a mind that's a little too sharp for his liking. 

"Is it because of not being gifted?"

It is hard to decipher the expression Jeonghan is wearing, but Chan could care less. The question burns in his throat like acid. Jeonghan's words swirl around his head until another question forms.  

Is it because you are different?

"The hour is over now."

There were still about ten minutes left, but Jeonghan did not hold him back this time. Chan takes his back and storms off, leaving the older student behind. 

He is not sure where his legs are carrying him. All he knows is that he needs to get out of the same space as Jeonghan and his too-deep drilling questions. He passes classrooms, clubrooms, and students chat in the hallways as he continues to go his way. Chan finds himself walking out of the building, feeling better once he can pull fresh air into his lungs. Jeonghan's voice still echoes through his head as suddenly Chan's cell phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Chan. Sorry to call you suddenly, but can you help me out?"

Vernon's voice sounds weird, not because of the connection but because something feels off. 

"Are you all right?" asks Chan, concerned at the nasal tone in the other teen's speech.

"I forgot to take my meds, and my nose is acting up. I have a pollen allergy."

"Wow. That's some cruel fate."

He did not mean to joke, but Vernon laughs at the words before a loud sneeze makes Chan jump at the sound. 

"Thanks, I nearly threw my phone because of that sneeze," says Chan, unknowingly grinning. 

Vernon apologizes with a laugh, followed by a second sneeze.

"Can you come and take over? I own you one."

"I'm coming. You better wait outside before you drop your cell phone by sneezing your head off."

Chan hurries to the greenhouses, seeing Vernon wait in front of them from a distance. He waves at him as he catches on that Vernon has noticed him. It is hard to miss that Vernon is not doing well. His eyes are teary, his nose runs and is red, and he seems out of it.

"You should rest. Your face looks bad," says Chan, handing Vernon a pack of tissues he found in his bag. 

"Thanks. I'm already avoiding looking at my reflection."

Chan feels better after saying Vernon goodbye and enters the greenhouse. Vernon had nearly completed his work. All left is to water some of the plants in the back and put back the work tools. Vernon had told him he was the last person in the greenhouse and handed him the key to lock up later, causing Chan to relax. It feels good to be alone. Although the sudden temperature change is heavy on him when he has to suppress himself, the sight of the plants and flowers around is calming. Watering the plants is quickly done. Since Chan is already there, he decides to search for the weird flower he had seen last time. It took him a few minutes as he roams between the paths until he finds the mysterious tendrils hanging from the ceiling. To his disappointment, the flower buds are not glowing this time. He didn't know why he expected them to keep shining. He didn't even know why they did it in the first place and why it needed a touch or a movement to activate their ability to do so. 

He feels like he's back to being a young child as he reaches for the nearest bud, poking it softly with innocent curiosity. A smile crawls on his face as he gets illuminated by the already familiar turquoise light. He takes his time to bring light to every flower bud within reach, smiling proudly as he steps back to admire his work when something catches his attention. The color of one of the larger blooming flowers turns slowly, almost unnoticeable, with the eyes from its sheer turquoise into a creamy purple. The change does not stop there. The bottom of the calyx turns darker until it seems to stop at a purple so dark it could get mistaken as black. Several other flowers undergo an identical change until some dark violet flowers rise between the sea of glowing blue.

The teen stands stunned between the arms of the plant. That has been unexpected. The sudden ring of a notification pulls him out of his daze, and Chan takes his eyes off the flowers to check his cell phone. He throws as he reads the message and hurries to bring the other tools back. Chan is on his way out as he accidentally kicks something laying in front of his feet. The sound of metal hitting against stone made him look down in surprise. Chan picks up the key he has kicked away, turning it in his hands. He takes out the key Vernon handed him, only to notice that the keys are identical. Has he just found a free pass to the greenhouses? The right thing would be to return it. 

"I will return it. Later." 

He slips the newfound key deep into his bag and locks the door to the greenhouses. His plan to go home went down the drain as he received a message from Jun. It took him by surprise to see the message on the screen, asking if they could meet in the art room. Several excuses come to mind to deny the request. Not to mention being tired, Chan could not imagine what the Chinese teen wanted to talk over. He is not curious enough about it to meet the other. It feels more like being obligated.

A short "yes" reaches the door as Chan knocks against the hardwood, waiting. Someone had worked in the art studio. A freshly painted canvas leans against the wall. It's the image of a tree standing tall at the shore of a tranquil lake. Branches hang over the reflecting water, and some colorful leaves float on its surface.

Blurs of color scattered on the thin plastic sheets, and paintbrushes lay to dry on one of the workbenches. Jun sits on the couch, legs crossed and cell phone in his hands. He seems to drown in the baggy black sweater and sweatpants, and Chan once again wonders if he wore the same clothes to classes. He had not once seen him in the school uniform. Chan walks over, standing a little awkwardly next to the couch. 

"You can sit down here."

Jun points to where the second cup stands. Chan sits down and stares at the steaming tea, needing a moment to realize that Jun had prepared the cup for him. He thanks the older and takes the tea, taking in the scent of freshly brewed white tea. He waits for Jun to address the subject he wants to talk over. Jun puts his cell phone down. He seems nervous, long fingers playing with the hem of the sweater. He speaks slowly as if searching for the right words causes him great difficulty. Chan waits patiently, listening to the little stumbles.

"I am not good at talking to new people. In general, I am not great at talking." 

Chan couldn't point out how talking to him makes Jun this nervous, a bit confused about where the beginning of the other's monologue is leading. 

"What I want to say, I don't know how to ask this without sounding too direct."

Jun suddenly sits up straight, his whole body turning to face the younger teen. The action takes Chan by surprise, dumbfounded by the serious mood settling in the room out of nowhere. Jun wears an expression that is too serious for someone who looks like they just woke up from a nap on the couch. Jun reaches around the sofa and grabs something that has been staying out of Chan's vision. 

Chan frowns at the sight of familiar soft-colored purple. It's the pullover Jun lent him. Sensing the younger teen's confusion, the Chinese teen takes the neatly folded clothing and shakes it. The pullover unrolls to its full size, and Jun turns it in his hands, holding it so Chan can see the front. 

"I don't try to be nosy, and I will only ask once," begins Jun, observing Chan closely as he holds the pullover up. His chest feels like a stone got dropped on it. Chan has to sum up his whole willpower to take his eyes off the cloth. A black spot had burnt its way into the collar, dangerously close to the neck.

He can smell fire. 

Jun's eyes are filled with concern as he meets them.

"Chan, what happened on your way back home?"

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 7)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

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Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

“As expected, Vernon is a quick learner. Unlike someone else.”

“Do you want to get slapped with a book?”

Chan grins and holds his hands up in case Seungkwan decides to let actions follow his words. The latter rolls his eyes at Chan’s grin. 

“You are lucky to be helpful," mutters the blond while putting the book back down.

“What was that?”

“I said you are an idiot.”

“It’s good that we found this classroom,” interrupts Vernon while putting away his notebooks.

“They would have thrown us out of the library because of you two," he adds, but with a smile on his face.

“I bet it would not be Seungkwan’s first time to be thrown out of the library,” teases Chan.

“Do you want to pick a fight?”

Chan laughs and flees around the table, hiding behind Vernon as Seungkwan lifts the book in his hand for a second time.

“I should not have helped you when you stood lost in the hallway. Biggest mistake of my school life,” says Seungkwan. “I am too nice for my good.”

“Hmm, if you say so,” retorts Chan with a laugh.

They did not manage to meet after classes yesterday as Vernon had more chores in the greenhouses than expected. In the end, they went home after finishing their extra work, deciding to postpone their project meeting on Tuesday since Vernon could not make it in time. 

“I cannot believe we finished this so easily after all the trouble earlier.” Seungkwan taps against the snow globe, standing on top of a pile of books. The lights shining through the window break against the domed glass, throwing a small rainbow onto the pile of snow that covers the bottom of the globe. The snowflakes appear as fine and delicate as the ones formed by nature. They seem out of crystal, each one owning a unique shape and form. The bottom part of the snow globe is about two inches in height, the surface provided through a grooved silver sheet wrapped once around the pillar. Snowflake-inspired ornaments of diverse sizes run around the silver, a few adorned by little ice-blue crystals.

Seungkwan eyes Chan roam around his bag with a sour expression.

"It's not going to open just because you glare at it," mocks Chan as he puts the egg on the table. Seungkwan ignores his words, crossing his arms over his chest while leaning back into the seat. Vernon pushes a few books around the golden egg, keeping it from rolling down. The three students sit around the makeshift nest, and while Seungkwan and Vernon discuss their notes, Chan stands in front of a problem. He had helped them with their projects, giving some inconspicuous hints and keeping them from straying too far. But Chan forgot to lead his group mates on his project. How should he explain something to them that comes to him naturally? Chan takes the egg and runs a finger over the golden embellishment. The presence of the magic inside is perceptible just by touch. The seal of Seungkwan's cube reacted to the spell as soon as Seungkwan started to cast it. Chan knew that the same technique would not work on the egg. Putting the seal inside seems like not much of a hindrance at first. But to take the visual hint of how much magic is needed to manipulate the seal sets the difficulty for a new class more advanced than expected.

"It will not be enough if both of you try to break it." 

He had not meant to speak his thoughts out loud, realizing what he had done after Seungkwan looked up.

"Care to elaborate?", asks the blond.

"Seungkwan, can you cast your spell from last time?" Chan says instead, hoping Seungkwan would drop the matter.

"I do not believe that is going to work again," counters Seungkwan.

"You do not have to put a lot of magic into the spell. I want to test something," reassures Chan. Seungkwan does not look convinced but stands up nonetheless. The blond's tongue peeks out as he concentrates before the first few words of his spell fill the room. A similar flare of orange sparks appears, forming a thin ring around the egg. The sparks continue to float, little specks of light hovering in their position while Seungkwan recites his spell. After the last word is said, the sparks fade away as quickly as they have appeared. The egg lays still just as it has a minute before.

"It does not react to the spell at all." Seungkwan let his hands fall with a sigh. "You did well Seungkwan," encourages Vernon. He turns to Chan, seemingly having caught what the other was hinting at.

“If we assume that the spell is working the way it should, but the egg did not react, does that mean the seal might be on the inside? It would explain why we could not see anything.”

Chan hums in agreement. "That could be a possibility. If that is the case, we need to find a way to make the seal visible. If one of you can provide a view of the seal, the other can open it by casting a second spell."

Seungkwan perks up at the idea. "I think I can manage to break the seal once I see it. But how do we make it visible?"

_________________________________

The cracking of knuckles pulls Chan out of his daze. The tired teen quickly rubs at the corner of his mouth, hoping to have gotten all the drool wiped off his face. Chan needs a brief moment before comprehending that he is still inside the school.

"I told you not to do that!"

Seungkwan slaps Vernon's shoulder, not hard but enough for Vernon to pull a face at the action. A grin finds its way to Chan's face as he sees Seungkwan's disgusted expression while the latter scolds his friend. Vernon and Chan's eyes meet, the American teen sending him a little grin. He playfully rolls his eyes at Seungkwan's words, leaving Chan chuckling. While Chan stretched, the jacket that got put over his shoulders with care fell to the ground. He bends over the chair and picks it up, eying the familiar college jacket with curiosity. 

"While you were sleeping Vernon and I found some spells that could be useful," says Seungkwan with a smug expression.

Chan could feel the tip of his ears burn. Did he fall asleep? Well, that was awkward. He folds the jacket and hands it quickly back to Vernon, the latter looking amused at Chan's shy reaction. Chan gets up and walks around the table. He takes a glance at what the other two have written down. He skims over the spells, mouth quietly moving as he reads over the words. The magic spells are not flawless, but they should work.

“Do you want to try these out now?” Chan points at the notes.

“I think that would be a good idea,” says Vernon while he starts putting away the notes to create more space. He and Seungkwan get in position, standing in front of each other with the desk between them. Chan stands a few steps aside behind Vernon, observing the two others.

“Vernon is going to start. As soon as the seal is visible, Seungkwan will cast his spell. Vernon, you got to guarantee that the seal is thoroughly visible first and holds the magic up long enough for Seungkwan to focus on it. If you cannot keep the image up long enough, we can give it a second or third try. We have time, alright?"

Vernon and Seungkwan nod in agreement. Chan watches Seungkwan shaking his arms and legs before he gets ready. Vernon stands still in front of the table and takes a few seconds before he stretches his hands out. Chan is about to tell the teen to relax his posture, but Vernon’s voice already fills the room. Chan shuts his mouth and decides to let Vernon try on his own, observing the white layer of magic enveloping the student's body like a second skin. The words are unfamiliar, but the magic feels as natural as breathing as it floats around Chan. He catches Seungkwan’s eyes growing wide as the first signs of Vernon’s spell start manipulating the magic around them.

A bluish haze starts to appear, thin at first but getting thicker as it grows in quantity. It pools together in the middle of the room, accumulating a few inches in front of Vernon’s palms. The ball of fog concentrates until it melts into a mix of white with faint shimmers of bright blue swimming to the surface. The ball of mist moves under the command of Vernon’s words, slowly making its way over to the motionless egg sitting on the desk. Instead of laying itself around its target, the ball stopped moving, hovering right in front of the egg. Chan and Seungkwan throw a glance at Vernon. The latter is standing with his shoulders hunched in an awkward stance in front of the desk, arms slightly shaking. The magic around Vernon grows thinner, some places starting to dissolve, causing holes to appear in the cover. The breaking of the surrounding spell causes the fog to lose focus. A shiver runs over its surface, akin to a flame getting shaken by the slightest sign of wind. It causes tiny wafts of mist to come loose in some places and grow out of the ball.

“Try to relax your shoulders a little."

Vernon jumps at the sound of Chan’s voice. The sphere of fog grows fuzzy around the edges as the teen's attention starts wavering. It begins to lose its form before it breaks, dis-aggregating into waves of mist that drop to the ground, disappearing before they can spread further.

“That was good!”

Seungkwan beams at Vernon, although the latter does not look convinced.

“The spell sounds good. We probably need to work on your posture more than the spell”, jokes Chan and sends Vernon a thumbs up.

They try two more attempts, with Chan giving Vernon tips to improve his stance and get more comfortable. It was an intriguing experience. He had never been in a position to explain the use of magic, all the more where he had to think about the usage of spells. It gave Chan a new view of the way he uses magic himself. He had thought about the need to use words to provide aid to weave magic into them, creating a place for the surrounding magic to flow. Although he has watched people around him use magic many times, it feels different when he has to put himself into their shoes. He would have to think about how he could make this easier for Vernon.

Back in his apartment, Chan sits on his bed, the ring on the bedside table. He unzips his bag and pulls the golden egg out, holding it in both hands. Green eyes scan the egg with interest. The teen has no intention of eliciting its secret now. He would let Vernon and Seungkwan open it, wanting to do this together. In the blink of an eye, a clicking sound breaks the quietness. As expected, a small flow of magic sent from his fingertips is enough to snap the seal open. But how is he going to explain it? How would he fit this magic into a spell?

Now that he is at it, Chan feels the need to unwind. Opening the egg left him weirdly unsatisfied. It had taken a tiny amount of the pressure that had built up inside his mind and body. He feels like needing to get rid of the rest that is still left as it keeps trying to worm a way into his consciousness, leaving him restless. He absentmindedly rubs his hands together as he slowly gets lost in thought about what he should do. He does not notice the room getting darker with the sun setting outside, shadows growing larger. The darker it gets inside the room, the brighter the green of his eyes glows. Darkness swallows everything inside the apartment as Chan leans back against the bed's headboard and closes his eyes.

The smell of rain mixed with a familiar sweet fragrance coaxes Chan to open his eyes. The sight of an endlessly starred sky greets him. He takes notice of the moon missing tonight, its place filled with another handful of thousand stars.

The grass feels comfortingly cool against his skin. It invites the young teen to keep lying down, letting sink in the tranquility. He could taste the thick sweetness lying in the air. It makes him take a greedy breath, drinking up the sense of familiarity. After what feels like a short eternity, Chan gets up. He stands in the middle of a small grass patch, surrounded by a sea of blue hyacinths.

The teen follows a path up the small hill where the flowers circle the highest part, leaving a small grass-covered field open. The soft glow of the small budded flowers provides enough light to find his way through the night. Chan walks until he stands in front of a white wooden bench, standing in the middle of the starlit field. He takes the blanket hanging over the armrest and pulls it around himself. A breeze sweeps over his locks as Chan sits down, with his knees pulled up against his chest, head leaned back to gaze at the stars above. Although he is only wearing his pajamas, it is not cold with the blanket around him. Time starts to fall apart as Chan sits on the bench, accompanied by only himself and the stars, but he does not feel lonely. The patch of grass is narrowing as the blue sea of flowers grows, hundreds of new flowers breaking through the ground. They begin to bloom in a matter of seconds. It takes a few moments until the bench stands surrounded in the middle of a silent sea, unnoticed by the stargazing teen. T

The horizon melts from a mellow blue into sempiternal darkness, covered by sparkling lights. The floral scent of the hyacinths intensifies by the time the morning dew covers them under a wet glimmer. With the first rays of the sun, Chan knows he has to leave again. He closes his eyes. The hard wood of the bench gets exchanged with a soft mattress and blanket.

The pressure he has felt is gone. It surprises him to see the sunrise from his place on the bed. Chan has forgotten how well-rested he could be. Although he is not sure if he slept or not, he feels much calmer. His knees nearly gave in after swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. It takes a moment before he finds enough strength to make his way to his closet and change into his uniform. On his way out, Chan takes the bag with Minghao and Jun's clothes.

______________________________________

“Is this a good idea?”

Chan looks a little skeptical at the bag. He cannot imagine someone coming into the workshop, taking a glance at the bag, and robbing it. He doubts many students come to the art room at all. It leaves him wondering if they even know it exists in the first place. On his way to the room, he has not met a single student in the hallway. He drums his fingers against his mobile phone, unsure if he should simply message his seniors, telling them he left it there. In the end, Chan puts a small note with their names on the bag. If someone steals it, they know whose anger they would reap. But what if Minghao and Jun hold Chan accountable for their stuff getting stolen? Those are pretty expensive clothes.

“Ugh, this is frustrating.”

He has not had much time to waste. Chan visits the workroom before classes start to avoid running into the two Chinese students. As friendly as the two seniors were, Chan knew that it would not end with him simply leaving the bag and going his way. He can see Minghao pushing him to sit next to a gaming Jun, asking him how his day went and if he wants a cup of tea. He has no intention of getting buddy-buddy with the two, although he appreciates their help. 

“Oh. Hello Chan.”

Chan stares wide-eyed at one of the few people he desperately tries to avoid, hand still holding onto the door handle, frozen in place. So much for sneaking in and out without getting caught.  Jun looks at him with as much surprise as his sleep-swollen eyes could muster. The older student looks like he could sleep for at least another eight hours. As on clue, a yawn overcomes Jun, the latter lazily holding a hand up to cover his mouth. He blinks owlishly, before looking down at Chan. “Are you looking for Minghao?” asks the Chinese student, catching him slightly off guard.

“I am looking for you,” answers Chan, feeling a little bad for lying as he sees Jun’s surprised expression. He does not know the older well, but if it's Jun, Chan thinks he might have a chance to pass the clothes and get this over quickly.

“For me?”

Jun points at himself, sounding bewildered that Chan would be looking for him out of all people. Now Chan feels kind of terrible for lying to him.

"I want to give the clothes back."

Jun glances past him as Chan points at the table, nodding as he sees the bag.

"Thank you, Chan. That's nice of you."   He gives Chan a sleepy smile. Chan feels like a jerk.

"I have classes now. Thank you for last time." 

He dashes past the tall brunette, as soon he hears him saying goodbye. The list of people he needs to avoid grows with each week. While he runs at the sight of Sejong and the group of scary seniors, he starts avoiding the Chinese students for a different reason. If anything happens to them because of him, he would feel bad. Now that he thinks about it, he should avoid Seungkwan and Vernon too. He knows he is a hypocrite at this point. During classes, Chan’s thoughts keep drifting off to the group of seniors. Minghao being not on good terms with Joshua has helped Chan out once, but he cannot rely on their dislike for each other to help him again if he runs into them. As much as Minghao appeared like a knight in shining armor, it won't end like that next time for sure.

“Earth to Chan.”

He blinks at a hand suddenly appearing in his vision. The waving motion pulls him back. Seungkwan points at the door. “Are you going to keep sitting here or move so we can work on the project later?”

“Sorry.” Chan apologizes while getting up and following his classmates into the hallway. They split up like yesterday in front of the library, Vernon and Chan walking outside together.

“I’m impressed. You do own real gloves.”

Vernon chuckles next to him.

“You are just jealous.”

“Of gloves that can probably glow in the dark or gloves that warm only half of your hand while your finger freezes off?”, teases Chan, laughing as Vernon takes a bit of snow from a nearby bush and throws it at him.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. These gloves are pretty neat.”

Chan eyes the neon-colored mittens with played disgust, earning him a snort from Vernon and another handful of snow on his clothes. They keep joking until Vernon bids Chan goodbye at the training grounds. The door to the building is locked, and not a single light is lit inside. Amazed at the trust Mr. Gwan put into him, Chan decides to quickly but thoroughly get his work done. That was the plan until the teen finds himself standing wide-eyed in front of the arena. The large stone plates from last time are gone, but that is not the part that leaves the student staring in disbelief. The area of white sand has vanished. In its stead, there are four widespread stone steps leading down to a field of stone, the latter completely flooded. As he steps closer Chan notices the mirror-like water not being as deep as expected. In the middle of the ring rises a stone square slightly out of the water, about two meters in width and five meters long.

It's Chan’s first time seeing a duel arena with his own eyes. He had heard that it’s normal for the gifted to show off their magic in play fights, calling it a battle among mages and glorifying the winner. Of course, they would train their youngest for such kinds of events. Chan should have expected as much.

He wastes no time going around the stairs and searching for lost items, but his eyes kept wandering back to the arena. There is a single bucket hat lying lonely on one of the seats close to the middle of the gymnasium. Chan snatches it from its place before he walks to the room where Mr. Gwan had taken care of his injuries on Monday. He finds a note written in neat letters, telling him there are no training utensils that need to be put away today. Chan takes the paper and puts it into the pocket of his trousers. He eyes the bucket hat in his hand. He had forgotten to bring the bag for the lost items last time. With a shrug of his shoulders, Chan puts the hat on, checking his reflection in the window of the room. Not a quarter of an hour, and he is already done with his work for the day. His steps are light as he walks into the gymnasium to put the lights out. 

There was no need for him to walk up to the arena in the middle, but Chan finds himself drawn to the water-filled area. The student's hand closes tightly around the keys. He has locked the doors after him out of instinct, not wanting to get surprised by an unexpected visitor. The teen stares with curiosity at the platform. He knows he would never in his life fight in a duel. But he cannot help wondering what it feels like to stand on a stage similar to this one. Would it feel any different than standing on the sidelines? After checking and finding no presence reacting to him sending out his magic Chan takes a quick step forward. It takes him four jumps before he reaches the platform, his footsteps leaving small circles of waves where his shoes had touched the water.

“It does feel different,” whispers Chan to himself as he turns around once. He takes in the number of seats facing his direction from all sides. He stands right in the middle, the center of attention in front of an invisible audience. Chan pulls the bucket hat deeper into his face, hiding a small grin playing on his lips. Although he did not like to admit it, it felt good to stand on a stage. Chan scolds himself for losing his rationality by simply standing on a platform. He should avoid attention, not seeking for it. It could cost him everything dear to him and more. The teen's mood turns sober abruptly. He had no idea what had come over him on his way out.  

_______________________________________________   “I think I’m going to have a panic attack. Get ready to call an ambulance or something.”

“Seungkwan, calm down.”

Vernon holds Seungkwan by the shoulders, getting him to breathe slowly. It would be amusing if Chan could not empathize so well with where their friend's fear came from. It’s the day of the presentation, and half of the class has already taken their turn. Most of it ended in a disaster. There had been several small explosions, a desk in flames, and a hive of fist-sized angry bees. It was the nightmare of every allergic person. At this point, everyone that had not presented yet became nervous, and those who had were nervous for their classmates.

“Now we know why Mr. Choi said we should not work on this outside off the school grounds," muses Vernon, as he helps Seungkwan go through a breathing exercise. It still smells a little burnt inside the classroom, with all windows already opened.

“But didn’t he also mention none of the objects being dangerous?", asks Chan from his place on the desk. He is snacking on some of Seungkwan's milk bread. Seungkwan twists his way out of Vernon’s well-meant hold to turn towards the other two students, angry pout on his face.

“You two are not being helpful. Not even a little bit,” he points at the two with a glare. Chan tries to look sorry, even though Seungkwan’s dramatic act is kind of hilarious. The break is nearly over. Seungkwan has calmed down with the help of Vernon and Chan, although he still looks a little pale around the edges.

“We are going to start the second half of the lesson now. There were some ups and downs, but it's a good experience to learn from mistakes. Don’t take it to heart but take it as a lesson. A mistake is always a step forward if you take the opportunity to learn from it. With these words, I want the next person to come forward and show us what they learned during this exercise.”

Seungkwan jumps slightly at his name getting called. He walks down to the front of the class as if walking into his doom, shoulders hunched and anxious eyes scanning the classroom. Mr. Choi gives him an encouraging smile, but Chan knows from the look on Seungkwan’s face that it has the opposite effect. From what Chan had noticed, Seungkwan hates letting people down, and Mr. Choi is one of the few teachers Seungkwan seems to genuinely admire. If he fails in this class, he will start to hate himself.

“Please begin.”

Mr. Choi steps back to give the student in front more space.

“Yes, Sir.”

Seungkwan places the cube on the teacher's desk. It’s still inside the classroom while Seungkwan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opened them again, it was like there had never been a sign of nervousness. Seungkwan’s eyes are focused solely on the object before he gets into his stance. The spell comes easily over his lips, practicing perfecting the flow of the magic-loaded words. An echo of amazed noises hushes through the students, as they witness Seungkwan’s orange sparks settling onto the cube. It looks almost too easy how Seungkwan bursts the seal with his spell, with no hesitation as he casts his magic. He steps back a little after he finishes, arms falling against his sides, and the nervous expression is back as he waits for a response from their teacher.

“That was excellent!”

Several students join the applause after Mr. Choi claps, visibly pleased.

“Can you also tell me what kind of object you got?”

Seungkwan nods hastily, liking his lips before answering.

“It is a magic cube, similar to the ones we used in our earlier lessons. With it, one can create a barrier.” 

“Well done, Seungkwan. You can sit down again.”

Vernon shows Seungkwan a thumb up, and Chan holds his hand out for a quick high five as soon as Seungkwan is back in his seat.

“That was awesome.” compliments Chan with a low voice, a genuine smile on his face. He did feel happy for Seungkwan, knowing how much effort the others had put into this project. As if Seungkwan has set a prime example, the second half of the class goes on smoothly. Two students did not manage to open their seals, but no additional school property got destroyed, and with Mr. Choi’s quick reactions no one came to harm. Vernon also manages to present his spell without faults. The seal breaks with a small bolt of white light. 

“Would you explain to us what you got here, Vernon?”

“I believe it’s a toy, Sir.”

“Maybe that question was too easy,” says the teacher with a laugh. “But you are right, it’s a toy. Please shake the globe once.”

Vernon nods before he takes the silver colored snow-globe, giving it a soft shake before putting it carefully back onto the desk. A few seconds pass before a single snowflake flutter from the ceiling. The teen holds a hand out and watches in wonder as it sinks into his palm. When he looks up, another snowflake floats down right in front of his face, causing him to take a surprised step back. Vernon watches in amazement how his classmates point at the increasing count of snowflakes dancing around the classroom, excited at the sudden sight of snow falling out of nowhere.

“I think that’s enough snow for the day. At least inside the school. Well done, Vernon,” praises Mr. Choi but stopping the teen from getting back to his seat. 

“Chan, Seungkwan, if you would like to come forward. We got one last project left.”

All attention is on him as Chan walks up to where Seungkwan and Vernon are waiting for him. It only takes a short moment for the egg to stop moving after he places it on the desk, but the seconds feel incredibly long. It's surreal how nervous Chan feels. He is not even the one who has to show anything.

“You can begin whenever you are ready,” says Mr. Choi. It irks Chan how relaxed the teacher is leaning against the wall. It feels like he expects that everything will go without incident. While Chan wants to believe that also, the teen is restless. He had not been in control of anything lately, and now he had to rely on people he did not even know for two weeks. Not like Chan cannot trust Vernon and Seungkwan. He wants to trust them. He misses Vernon and Seungkwan throws him a glance as he steps back. The explanation starts a little slow, but the more Chan talks, the more confident he gets.

“We will show you what we have worked out now.”

Vernon and Seungkwan stepped closer as on clue. Like they have practiced, the two students stand opposite each other with the desk between them. The blue fog is thicker than before, its color still light blue as it forms into a ball rather quickly. The ball floats without stopping towards the egg and encloses it in its middle, swallowing the golden-black object at once.

Some students let out a surprised gasp as light breaks through the blue fog, similar to sunshine breaking through clouds. The dense fog begins to clear as more rays break through it. A wide-meshed net weaved with threads of different sizes of light lays around the egg. The main lines lead together into a central junction, the core of the seal. Orange sparks set on the net on Seungkwan’s command, most of it focused on the place where the threads run together. The net is engulfed in an orange glow by the time Seungkwan's spell reaches its climax. Seungkwan’s brows furrow as he puts the focus on the seal. Small shock waves run over the threads, some thinner ones starting to vanish in a beat, while the main ones slowly begin to disperse. The last trace of Seungkwan’s magic left together with the last thread of the net snapping, causing the egg to move slightly. With the seal gone there remains the unlocked black-golden egg on the teacher's desk.

“Very well. A beautiful display of two very different kinds of spells working together. Now, if you would tell us the purpose of this mysterious object, Chan? Please activate it.”

Acting on the teacher's command Chan pushes his finger against the nearly invisible button on top of the egg. With a clicking sound, the four gold sepals start to unfold. They set it onto the desk and push the egg a few inches from the ground, stabilizing it in midair. The black stone that lays free begins to rotate counterclockwise before stopping. Chan, and the rest of the class, watch with wide eyes how the stone parts are in the middle. A golden circle starts to unfold around the egg, making it look like a small orbit is running around it. The top part above the gold ring starts to rotate again before the upper half of the stone divides into two more separate parts. Another this time smaller golden ring parts the newly divided halves. With a low buzzing noise, the top part of the egg divides into four pieces. They turn in their place, inside showing out before a hidden mechanism unfolds them into hundred pieces. The small metal parts latch together, fitting perfectly into their lodgings, and create an even surface. 

The mechanism stops by revealing two illustrations carved into the metal, the right showcasing an image of the sea and the left showing an island. Chan reaches out and pushes against the picture of the waves. With another buzzing sound, the illustrations are covered by another plate moving over them, and Chan can only stare at the process, trying to make sense of the ever-shifting object in front of him. When it finally halts, a cylinder stands proudly in the circle, the center between eleven elevations that grew out of the surface. 

There is a sudden increase in magic, and by the sudden boost of the volume Chan knows, the growth of magic is strong enough that everyone inside the classroom can feel it. The black stone begins to pulsate and grow darker. In a matter of seconds, the classroom has turned inky, particularly above their heads, the ceiling not visible anymore. Chan thought the stone was about to swallow the light, but instead of absorbing it, it begins to take the light and concentrate it at one point. About half a meter above the egg begins a ball as large as a baseball to form. Once it stops growing, it starts to move in a circle above the egg before stopping, letting the cylinder throw a shadow onto the surface.

“What is happening?”

“Are those stars under the ceiling?”

The students begin to shout in excitement, causing Chan to glance in the direction several fingers point. They are right. There are stars. The ceiling is completely gone and what Chan and his classmates are looking at is the vast night sky opening right in their classroom at 12:00 p.m

“So Chan, what do you think is the purpose of the object?”

Chan had forgotten about the question at the sight of the spectacle. He takes another glance at the egg, the latter not resembling an egg that much anymore. 

“It seems to be a navigation system.” Chan points at the light floating above the egg. “The light most likely resembles the stance of the sun and shows the time by throwing a shadow. To see the stars at any time of the day can be useful when navigating with the help of constellations.”

“Great observation. Thank you, Chan.”

Mr. Choi steps next to Chan and pushes against a button the student has not noticed until now. In mere seconds the egg folds back together, and with a blink, the confused students sit in a bright classroom, the sun shining into the room through the windows. 

“This object is indeed an ancient navigation system. It has been passed around, by several generations of traveling mages. Although at this day and age, its purpose is more to show off than anything.” Mr. Choi laughs as if he told a great joke that none but him understood. Chan gives a polite smile before quickly returning to his seat.

“We talk about your grades for this assignment after I read through your reports. Please leave them on the desk on your way out.”

“He’s right, that thing is extravagant.”

Seungkwan turned to face Chan, once Mr. Choi ended the class.

“I thought it won’t ever stop moving at one point.”

Chan laughs while Vernon nods with a grin.

“By the way, is something happening outside?”

All three turn their heads towards the door at Seungkwan’s question. The students flocking the hallway and the growing tumult outside in the corridor made them throw curious glances at each other. Vernon sits on Chan’s desk, kicking his feet as he stretches his neck, trying to get a glimpse over the heads of the other students.

“Can’t see a thing.”

“Don't bother," says Seungkwan while spinning his pen with a bored expression. "It's probably Kim Mingyu walking past or something.”

Chan tilts his head at the words. Kim Mingyu? Isn’t that the name Sejong had mentioned?

“You know someone in school called Kim Minygu?” asks Chan. The question throws the teen off, the pen flipping off his hand and landing on the ground. Chan meets Seungkwan looking appalled at the question as he hands him his pen.

“Are you telling me you don’t?"

Chan feels a little thrown off at the shocked stare that Seungkwan throws in his direction. It’s not like he has done anything wrong. He just started attending school, how should he know every person famous or not? He sends a glance at Vernon, searching for help, but the older teen shrugs his shoulders.

“Sorry Chan, he is dramatic about these things.”

“What do you mean, dramatic? How can you not know Kim Mingyu? Did you live behind the moon before coming here or what?”

“Sorry to interrupt you,” The three teens look up in surprise at the girl standing in front of Chan’s desk, an excited friend of hers pulling at her sleeve to make her hurry.

“Yes?” asks Chan, a bit confused at being talked to by anyone else than his friends.

“Someone is waiting outside the classroom for you.”

“I see. Thanks.”

After the girl is done, her friend pulls her back to the door, joining the excited crowd.

“Chan?” ask Seungkwan, leaning to the side to see past his friend.

“Hm?”

Vernon still keeps trying to look outside without having to stand up from his place and Chan grabs the desk a little tighter just in case.

“What have you done?” 

Chan could only shrug helplessly.

What has he done?

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 6)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

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Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

To say he is surprised to see Minghao would be an understatement. Chan's eyes grow wide as he watches the Chinese student marching with long steps through the hallway straight in their direction. As he came closer, Chan noticed something between the confidence in his stride and the stoic expression he was wearing. Minghao's lips are formed into a thin line, the slight furrow of his brows indicating a higher level of irritation. By the time he stands in front of them, his presence has pulled the group's total attention toward him. The others are watching him warily.

“What are you doing?”

He sounds mad. Chan glances nervously back and forth between Minghao and Joshua, the latter slowly turning away from Chan to look at the taller student. Joshua crosses his arms over his chest. His unimpressed expression leaves Chan anxious as it only seems to cause the wrinkles on Minghao’s forehead to grow deeper.

“We are talking.”

Minghao throws him a glare, mirroring Joshua’s stance as he looks down on the slightly smaller student. He raises an eyebrow, daring the older student to continue talking.

“He did something wrong. We are only trying to sort it out,” explains Joshua calmly. Chan notices similarities in his way of speaking, reminding him of Vernon. He cannot precisely point out what it was, as he is too focused on giving off as less presence as possible.

Minghao looks like he is not buying any of it.

“Why do the four of you have to sort something out with a single freshman?”

He gestures toward the group while talking. His eyes wander around while speaking and to Chan’s surprise, the black-haired senior and the blond guy look distressed as his eyes fall on them. The pretty student, Jeonghan, is not even slightly affected by it. He seems to watch the fight with a sober amount of interest. Jeonghan was probably the last person to try separating the two.

“It has nothing to do with you, Hao," says Joshua.

Minghao unfolds his arms. His and Chan's eyes meet. Chan is not quite certain how effective the pleading gaze he sends the senior's way is. At least the younger teen interprets the look Minghao has sent him as reassuring. It got hard to read the older student's current expression, as he wears a constant scowl on his face.

“I'm not letting you harass him.”

Minghao hit a nerve as Joshua's posture visibly stiffens at the words. They seem to trigger something within the group of older students. Chan notices Seungcheol and Soonyoung getting fidgety. Joshua sounds genuinely angry as he counters, a deep frown on his face.

“We are not harassing anyone.”

The atmosphere has grown heavy. Chan swallows at the tension filling the empty hallway. “You cannot recognize what you are doing. How about you start some self-reflection before you go around cornering people again,” says the Chinese student.

Minghao glares not only at Joshua, who looks furious by now but also at the other three seniors, who were observing the whole fight quietly. The tension that holds Chan captive in his spot does not seem to have the same effect on Minghao. He ignores the stares fixed on him, takes a step around Joshua, and reaches out for Chan. As his hand closes around Chan’s wrist, the younger teen notices that he is sweating, his hands clammy against his skin.

It is a surprising discovery. Taking into consideration how confident the Chinese student holds himself against the groups of seniors, Chan concluded that Minghao did not feel pressured. But the slightly shaking fingers closing around his wrist do not fit the indifferent expression displayed on his face. Minghao is scared.

Or a considerable amount of nervousness.

Still, him reaching out to Chan gives the younger hope of getting to class on time. Chan's illusion gets crushed when Joshua puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. He looks back and quickly turns to face Minghao again after stealing a glance at Joshua. The look Joshua send his way was anything but forgiving.

Chan stands awkwardly between the two upper-classmen, not sure what to do. Minghao still has a hold on his wrist while Joshua’s delicate but firm hand sits on his shoulders, adding a weight that could rival a ton.

“Let him go, Joshua,” demands Minghao.

"We have not finished talking yet," answers Joshua with a cold voice.

Chan is not sure what he had expected to happen next. Did he wait for a tug of war to start? With Minghao and Joshua taking him by the wrists and pulling until one of them wins? Seungcheol stepping in had not been on the list of possible outcomes Chan drew out inside his mind, but it is probably the best one for the sake of his shoulders. Seungcheol puts a hand on Joshua’s shoulder and almost appears pleading, as he speaks, contrasting his earlier behavior. 

"Shua, we should go. We can talk to him later.” 

A glance at Minghao told them that would not happen. At least not when the Chinese student could prevent it. Joshua does not look pleased but let Jeonghan and Seungcheol pull him around. The blond guy glances back at them, seemingly confused, before running after his friends.

Minghao walks him to his classroom in silence. On their way, Chan waits for the older student to ask him about what happened. To his surprise, the older refrains from doing so. He glances at him. Minghao got lost in thoughts, and Chan did not know what to say. Should he explain himself? But what was there to explain? He does not know what the group of upper-classmen wanted from him in the first place. Apart from it having something to do with Vernon. Speaking of Vernon, Chan is more than a little confused about the whole incident just now. What did Soonyoung say? He supposedly pulled Vernon? Did Chan pull Vernon?

A small part of his memories bubbles onto the surface, floating up from deep down. Vernon's surprised expression as Chan tugged his sleeve appeared in front of his inner eye. There were several students around at that time.

Did the senior mean that incident?

The teen tilts his head in thought. Did it look like he had ill intentions towards his classmate? Well, Chan had called out for Vernon rather loudly, and he did pull his sleeve. Had it been that easy to misunderstand the situation?

Still, Joshua's reaction does not fit into a misunderstanding that seems easy to resolve with a bit of talking. Chan feels like there must be something bigger standing behind the strong emotions displayed by the senior.

“Can you give me your cellphone?”

When he turns to the older, Minghao is waiting with his hand outstretched.

“Ah, sure?”

Minghao gives him a small smile as he puts his number into Chan’s contacts.

“I’ll add Jun’s number too. Is that alright?”

“Yes. Of course.”

The doubt bleeds through his answer, causing Minghao to look up from the display.

“Do you not want our contacts?”

“No, it’s not like I don’t want them. I just-”

Minghao waits with patience while Chan stumbles over his words. It is still hard to talk to the older student comfortably.

“I am only wondering why you are giving me your number?”

It is hard to guess what Minghao is thinking. He looks at Chan with a thoughtful expression before handing him his cellphone back. Two new numbers, are added to the short list of contacts. Chan's eyes fly over the foreign names saved on his two-week-old cellphone.

Wen Junhui.

Xu Ming Hao.

“You are a nice person, Chan. I would like us to become friends.”

Chan's eyes break away from the display to glance at Minghao. It is clear to Chan that the Chinese student is not telling him the whole truth. As much as he wants to believe that Minghao likes them to be friends, he cannot put much trust in his words. He cannot help being suspicious. Chan finds himself caught in a bit of misery. While Minghao waits for his response, the light smile is not wavering, even at the younger teen's doubtful expression. They stopped walking once they stood in front of Chan's classroom.

"That would be nice." 

Minghao nods at his words before he wishes him a nice day. Chan looks after him, taking in the glances the students around throw at him after the Chinese student rounds the corner of the corridor. The sight of Vernon and Seungkwan turning their heads in the direction of the door greats him as he steps into the classroom, waving at him to come closer. He ignores everything and everyone else as he walks toward his desk, taking a deep breath as he lets himself fall down on the chair between his classmates.

"How are you doing?" Vernon smiles at him.

Chan pulls some books out of his bag and sets them up on his table. He nods as a response.

"I'm good?"

"You don't answer a question with a question, Chan. That's considered rude."

"You don't butt into other people's conversations, Seungkwan. That's rude," mimics Chan Seungkwan's voice.

Seungkwan clicks his tongue, but amusement glimmers in his eyes. Vernon shakes his head at the bickering. Chan’s mind wanders elsewhere as his seat neighbors talk to him, letting him forget the whole incident in the hallway for now. 

The three of them find themselves in front of the teacher's office after classes are over. They throw glances at each other, none of them daring to step forward. Seungkwan rolls his eyes and knocks softly against the door, but with a little bit of hesitation, that does not get unnoticed by the two other students.

“And you acted as if you're not nervous.”

“Shut up. I never said I'm not.”

Chan’s grin flatters only a little as he gets elbowed in the side before the three shuffles into the office. Their joking demeanor is exchanged with nervous glances as they catch annoyed glares, sent by several teachers. They search for Mrs. Kim in a hurry. The teacher sits at the same desk Chan met her on his first day. They stand in a neat line in front of her. All three have their hands politely folded in front of them, backs straight as they wait for her to speak.

“I believe you know why you are here.”

Three heads nod quickly at Mrs. Kim's words.

“Since you directly came to get a teacher and breaking the window was an accident, I have decided not to tell Mr. Choi about this matter. But to compensate for the broken window, I am giving you some extra work. The three of you will help out after your classes are over.”

Mrs. Kim gets up from her seat and takes the stack of papers that lay spread out on her desk. She continues talking as she hands out a sheet of paper to every student.

“Vernon is going to help at the botanical garden, Seungkwan at the library, and Chan at the training grounds. All of you will help the teachers or staff working at these places until the end of the month. At the end of every week, you get a sign of the person supervising your work. I want your papers with the signs back on the first of March. Any questions?”

Vernon and Chan shake their hands while Seungkwan glances at the paper. “How many hours do we have to work each day?”

“It’s not going to hinder you too much from studying if that is your concern, Seungkwan.” is all he gets as an answer. They get dismissed after that.

“I don’t think it’s going to be that bad,” says Vernon as they walk down the hallway.

Seungkwan purses his lips.

“Well, the library isn’t a bad place. The worst is probably the training grounds.”

Vernon hums in agreement, typing something on his cellphone.

“Guys, there is a problem.”

Seungkwan and Vernon turn their heads in his direction, mild concern drawn on their features at the serious undertone in Chan’s voice. Chan looks back at him with a frown drawn on top of his serious expression.

“Where are the training grounds?”

“You got to be kidding me.”

Vernon laughs at Chan’s joke while Seungkwan shoves Chan to the side, cursing him under his breath, leaving all three of them laughing.

________________________________

They split up at the library. Seungkwan waves at them, telling them not to catch a cold. It's snowing as Chan and Vernon walk out of the building. 

“It’s so cold.” 

Chan glances at Vernon, who pulls the leather jacket closer around himself. It’s a mystery to him why Vernon is wearing something so thin and fingerless gloves in winter. His judgmental glance gets caught by Vernon. 

“It’s warm inside the greenhouses.”

The shorter teen only nods, although Vernon’s reasoning is questionable. Their shoulders bump against each other as they silently walk down the path. It is the perfect opportunity to tell Vernon about this morning, but for some reason, the words keep laying on the tip of his tongue but they wouldn’t come out. It is hard to imagine that Vernon might have sent the older students after him. Vernon would have told him if something is bothering him, right?

Next to the track, the snow is building up, high enough to reach up to their calves. Chan watches a straying snowflake dancing down in front of him. He reaches his hands out, but the wind took it and carries it to the ground before he can catch it.

“Aren’t your hands cold?”

He looks down at his pale hands before glancing at Vernon’s, whose fingertips have turned red. 

“Are yours warm?” he asks in turn, eyebrow raised in question.

The taller student shakes his head with a grin. “They are freezing.”

Vernon kept walking after they arrived at the training grounds. Chan looks after the teen, shaking his head as he watches him hurry in the direction of the greenhouses while blowing into his reddened hands. A harsh blast of wind tugs on Chan’s hair and clothes, making him shiver. He quickly reaches for the door and flees into the warmth of the heated gymnasium. He carefully walks to where the entrance divides into a long hallway.

Chan's head wanders to the left in the search for a hint of where to go. At the end of the hallway, a staircase leads to another floor. He tilts his head, a bit confused to find stairs in this place. The right side of the hallway ends similarly, the only difference being the number of doors. There are three on the left and four on the right. He starts walking down the right side of the hallway, missing the sign with the layout of the building. 

“Is anyone here?”, he calls out and waits for a moment. 

There is no response, the only sound coming from the wind rattling against the windows. The teen opens a door to one of the changing rooms and passes benches and lockers on his way. Although Chan calls, he cannot find a single person inside the hallway and changing rooms. He continues searching and walks through the last changing room on the first floor before he decides to look inside. Once inside, Chan got convinced of illusion magic being placed over the building. He had been wondering about the stairs leading to a second floor that is not visible from the outside. It came to make sense as he saw the rest of the gymnasium. The inside reminds Chan of something long lost and only passed through history books. 

The arena in front of him resembles a wide-ranged colosseum. There are two floors, both holding seats that reach around the oval-shaped field in the middle. The second floor sits on top of twenty giant stone pillars. Each of them is about four to five meters in height. The big LED sign panel hanging from the middle of the second floor looks a little out of place, but Chan is utterly amazed.

A walk around the first floor took him more than three minutes, as the teen stopped several times to look around in wonder. The seats got divided into blocks by paths leading between them, similar to a concert hall or sports arena. Chan walks down one of the paths while looking up at the ceiling. Instead of lamps, metal chains of various sizes and lengths hang down, each ending with considerably large crystals, secured by a netting of thinner chains. The magic flow is strong, mainly emitting from the brightly glowing crystals that remind Chan of stars.

“Is someone here?”

As he could not find anyone, Chan’s curiosity got the better of him. He had been eyeing the three pentagon-shaped stone plates in the middle of the arena. He puts a hand over the reeling and jumps down. The white sand swallows the sound of his steps, leaving a trail of prints behind as he walks to the middle of the field. Chan stops between two of the stone plates and inspects one of them with great interest. He notices thin runes carved into the black stone. The curious student circles around the stone to get a better view. He looked around once more before setting a foot onto one of the large stone plates.

“What do you think you're doing?”

Chan could swear no one had been around just a second before. He flinches at the voice booming through the hall and spins around. As he turns around, his other feet step onto the stone plate. A deep rumble echoes through the arena.

"Be careful!" 

Chan looks around in panic as the stone plate starts moving under him, the movement pulling him off his feet. Sand trickles down from the edges as the stone starts taking off the ground, leaving a mark in the fine sand. The teen did not dare to stand up and watched the ceiling coming closer until the movement stopped suddenly. He keeps laying down on his back and waits for a few moments. There is plenty of room between him and the lowest hanging crystal, giving Chan a chance to breathe a sigh of relief. He thought the platform would crush him between the ceiling. 

“Young man? Are you hurt?”

A head slowly peeks over the edge of the floating platform. Chan spots an elderly man standing at the side of the arena. The man waves as he sees Chan.

“What are you doing here, boy?”

“I got told to help out,” shouts Chan back, hands holding tightly onto the edge. He is pressed flat on his stomach as he watches the man holding a hand over his eyes. 

“You are not much of a help if you stay there. Come down, I will tell you how to help.” 

Chan feels caught in the act as he rubs his neck in embarrassment. Curiosity killed the cat is what his grandmother liked to say, and Chan never related more to that cat than right at this moment. He climbed up the tree and can't get down on his own.

“I don’t know how, Sir.”

If Chan had been inside on his own, there would be several ways to get down relatively smoothly. But since he is playing pretend, he is stuck on this platform several meters in the air. Although the sand under him is soft, jumping out of this height is out of the question. His ears burn as the man starts to laugh heartily.

“Stand up first.”

He is a little wary but does as told. 

“Go to the other edge of the platform. That’s right. You are doing good, boy. And now take a step forward.”

“Take a what?”

Chan’s voice grows higher in shock as he stands at the very edge of the platform. That man is trying to kill him, for sure. If he falls now, he will hit one of the other stones. 

“Do not worry. This old man might not look like it, but he knows what to do."

He tries to convince himself that the other won't gain anything from sending him to his doom, so he decides to trust him. It's not like he has much choice as he doubts the man would leave if he chooses to stay put. Chan closes his eyes and sets his foot forward. He lets out a short scream as his foot kicks into nothing.

"Ouch!" 

His fall ends rather quickly. Chan's pants got ripped where his knees hit the stone, and one of his hands throbbed as he landed on it, but he didn't break any bones.

"Did you stumble?"

The voice pulls Chan out of his shock. So he hasn't felt and broke his neck. A glance around tells him he is still high up in the air. His eyes fall on the platform on his right before he looks down onto the dark stone he is sitting on. It takes him a moment before he realizes what happened. As he takes another step over the edge, one of the other platforms levitated to provide a new ground to climb down. He comes to his feet and carefully walks to the rand of the new platform. This time Chan keeps his eyes open as he steps forward. The speed of the third stone makes him blink in amazement before he climbs down. Chan made his way down by climbing from one stone plate to the other. He jumps the last meter, caught by the sand under him. When he got up, dusting the sand off his clothes, the man came over.

"You got hurt."

"It's my fault, Sir."

The man sighs, sounding disappointed. 

"Your body is a precious thing, young man. You should be careful with it."

Not sure how to react, Chan agrees half-heartedly with the man, telling him he will be more mindful of his actions. The latter raises an eyebrow at his words. At that moment, Chan realizes that this man is not as easy to fool as the other adults. He saw right through him. 

"Come with me. We are bandaging you before I show you around."

Chan follows them to a small room that seems to be something close to an infirmary. He gets told to sit on the bed while the man takes out clean bandages and a pair of scissors. Chan watches how the other efficiently searches for everything needed. It leaves Chan in wonder how the elderly clad as a janitor knew his way around the infirmary. He sits on a small chair in front of Chan, telling him to roll up his pants. One of his knees is bleeding lightly, skin having busted by the fall. 

"You are a tough one," praises the older, making Chan a little embarrassed as he disinfects his wound carefully. It feels like he is a kid, getting praised this way for not showing discomfort during a doctor's appointment. The sting is not that bad in the first place. While the man dresses his wound with skilled fingers, Chan eyes him curiously. The man seems to be at least over sixty years old, short gray hair neatly trimmed. He smiles when he looks up to tell Chan that he has finished putting the bandage on. There are wrinkles around his eyes and the corner of his lips, growing deeper whenever he smiles.

"Can you walk?"

"Of course."

The man shakes his head at him before he beckons him to follow. He leads him around, mindful of his knee. 

"There is not much to do. Sometimes I will leave some of the equipment for you to put away. But most of the time, I need someone to collect the lost properties."

"Lost properties?" 

Chan does not know what the man found so amusing, his puzzled expression or the question.

"You would be surprised. At the end of a school day, there are many things you can find in this place. I won't kid you if I tell you, that I could open a clothing store with all the hats, shoes, and whatnot laying around here." He chuckles, although Chan doubts his words a little. Who would let his clothes lay around in the traings grounds?

As if he could read Chan's thoughts, the man continues. "Believe me, boy. You will get what I mean after a few weeks. Some people never change."

"Whatever that means,"  thought Chan and walked after the man. 

While circling the hall the man introduces himself as Gwan Sujin. 

"You could say I'm a utility man," explains Mr. Gwan. "I'm a bit like a housekeeper and a janitor, but I also know some more tips and tricks."

Chan is not sure if he completely understood what Mr. Gwan told him. But the man gives him a good first expression. He probably won't have to stay here long every day. After rounding the arena, Mr. Gwan stops in front of one of the changing rooms. 

"Since you got hurt, you can leave for today. I don't want someone injured working under my watch. You can take these to the school," he hands Chan a bag of clothes.

"And take good care of this."

He puts a key into Chan's other hand. 

"Is this-,"

"It's a key to the gymnasium. I want it back at the end of the month. Until then, feel free to use it."

Chan thanks him several times before he gets sent off. He puts the key away into the safety of his backpack, a little flustered at the trust Mr. Gwan put into him by handing him something with such great importance. That means Chan can use the gymnasium whenever he wants. 

He takes a glimps inside the bag of clothes, eyes growing wide at the sight of a bunch of bucket hands from various high-class designer brands. 

"Mr. Gwan was not joking about the hats," mutters Chan and ties the end of the bag together to keep the snow from wetting the expensive items. He hurries back to the school building, limping as he walks. Chan should have asked Mr. Gwan where he was supposed to bring the lost properties. The teen rounds the corner, brows furrowed as he is caught up in his thought when he suddenly walks straight into a wall. 

"What in the world-,"

Chan would have fallen flat on his behind if the wall had not reached out for him and caught him around his arm. He flinches at the sting, a small pained groan escaping him as he gets caught by his injured arm. 

"I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" 

Chan blinks slowly at the sight of a broad chest. "It's not a wall after all."

"Oh god, I hurt you, didn't I?"

Chan only now notices a dark pair of concerned eyes staring down at him. He has to crank his neck back a little to speak to the other student, whose hands are still hovering over his arm as if he were afraid Chan could fall out of nowhere. 

"I am not hurt."

The concern in his eyes does not leave. Instead, his eyes wander up and down on Chan, the earlier concern changes into somewhat of a judging expression as he raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. If Chan thought Minghao gives an unreachable impression, this guy puts the cherry on top. He is overly handsome, and tall, and Chan could confirm from bumping his head against his chest that he must work out regularly. 

"I got hurt earlier. It is not your fault."

Chan guesses the student in front of him is older. He gives him a short bow and is about to excuse himself as the other put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Is that the bag?"

It is Chan's turn to raise an eyebrow in question.

"The bag with the lost stuff."

"Ah. Yes."

"Can I take a look? I'm missing a pair of pants."

Chan hands him the bag and watches the guy beaming as he pulls out a pair of black pants from the bottom of the bag. And here he thought this day couldn't get any weirder. 

"Thank you. See you around."

The smile sent his way is blinding, and Chan cannot get out more than a hollow " sure ," before the older student leaves him standing in the hallway. Since he got done earlier than expected, Chan sends a message in his chat with Vernon and Seungkwan, asking if they should meet later. Until he gets an answer, Chan makes his way through the school, searching for an empty spot to work on some homework as he waits. Although he works quickly, a whole hour has passed already. There is still no answer from Vernon. But Seungkwan asks Chan to meet him at the library as he has also finished his work. Chan looks at his cellphone as Seungkwan keeps sending messages about an annoying senior working at the library, amusing Chan to no end. 

"If that isn't our dear Chan."

When he finally notices Sejong and his friends, Chan is already backed up against a wall.

 "A week at school, and you already became a gold digger. Just what you would expect from a blood-sucking parasite."

Sejong's behavior had been weird from the start, but now Chan is downright confused. He can only wonder what the other student is talking about. He quietly watches Sejong feeding into his agitation as he walks up and down in front of Chan, not even looking at him as he continues his rant. 

 "You are not supposed to be here, but you act like you could do whatever you want. It is completely ridiculous." He huffs an unamused laugh before he turns to the younger teen. Chan lets Sejong grab him by the collar and pull him closer until he spits the following words right into his face.

"But do you know what irritates me the most? It's not enough that you suck up to the richest kid in the school like some leech. Some of these losers here do it all the time. No, what makes me want to punch you in the face is that out of all people around, you try to please Kim fucking Mingyu. The biggest bastard of them all."

 "Kim Mingyu?"

 Not a second later, after the name crosses his lips Sejong's hand pulls his collar higher, angry eyes piercing into Chan's.

 "Do you want to make me angry, Lee Chan? Don't ever utter that bastard's name in my presence again. If I get told you hang out with that prick once more, I make you wish you could crawl back into the hole you came from."

Sejong pushes him away, his mood so sour he had enough of talking to him. Chan takes the chance to run as soon as Sejong lets go of him before his classmate decides to change his mind. After he stops around the corner of the third building, a location where he seems to be safe for now, Chan collapses against the wall. He hastily pulls in the air and runs a hand through his tousled hair. A slight frown finds its way onto his face as he thinks about what Sejong had said. There is a lot of information that is not making any sense to Chan, but one particular question got his mind running.

 Who in the world is Kim Mingyu?

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 5)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

Spotify-Playlist for this fanfic

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

He turns to the side, making himself more comfortable, pulling the sleeves of the sweater down and putting his hands under his head. It was a poor attempt to make them warm up a little, reminding him that he was still suppressing himself. Chan fumbles with the thin metal around his finger. Usually, he felt better after taking the ring off, but today the thought of putting it off made him restless. It feels like Chan was about to give up a sense of normality. A silent acceptance of the fact that he was not ordinary. A shiver shakes his entire body, the hair on his skin standing up. He sighs. Chan takes the ring off, putting it on his usual spot on the nightstand. He appreciates the cold getting washed away as he lets the magic flow freely again, but at the same time, it feels harder to breathe.

“Chan, I am sorry. I let you search for the cube for hours and just left.”

Seungkwan’s voice pulls him back before he can get completely lost in the moment. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before speaking.

“Don't apologize.”

The slight tremor in his voice does not get unnoticed. 

“Are you alright, Chan?”

He gives a short cough.

“Why are you asking?" 

Who is he trying to fool? Chan's voice sounds dull and tired and even foreign to himself. 

“You… sound worn out. I am sorry, I should have guessed you would be tired after today. I should not have called you. I even told Vernon it is a bad idea before, sorry-”

“Seungkwan, you need to stop apologizing. It gets out of hand.”

“Sorr-.”

He hears Seungkwan swallow his words before another apology could leave his mouth. 

“I am glad Vernon took you home. We got the cube. I am also home now. Everything is fine, right?”

At this point, Chan had not been sure if the question had intended to reassure Seungkwan or if he was trying to convince himself that everything would be alright. Chan's hand absentmindedly wanders to his neck, fingers ghosting over his skin. The bruises vanished, but his senses are still playing tricks on him. The feeling of hands grabbing his neck has burned inside his mind, alongside the sound of bones cracking and the smell of charred skin. There is a tiny pause. The apartment is reflected by the large window front, adding to its emptiness. Chan avoids looking at the body spread on top of the king-sized bed, covered by black satin bed sheets. 

“You are probably right.”

He hears shuffling on the other side of the line.

“About the project, do you have time tomorrow or Sunday? Vernon is going to stay over the weekend. You can come over too. To work on it together.” 

His fingertips linger at the pulse-point, addicted to the calming rhythmical movement of blood pumping through his veins.

“You want me to come over?”

His finger twitches.

“I wouldn't have asked if I don't want you to come.” comes the snarky answer. Chan could hear Seungkwan smiling. It made the corner of his lips lift for a millisecond. He rolls onto his back and takes the phone from the pillow, putting it back to his ear.

“I have to ask my parents about Sunday. Tomorrow is fine.”

Another lie but two days in a row without a break sounds tiring.

“Great.” There is a change of tone. Seungkwan sounds genuinely excited to invite him over as he yells for Vernon, telling him they are spending tomorrow together. The two boys kept talking for a few minutes, the talking part primarily done by Seungkwan. Chan's hand was now resting on the bed sheet, fingers running over the soft textile. It had a calming effect to watch the light reflect on the satin while listening to Seungkwan’s merry-filled voice. He came to appreciate the distraction.

“See you tomorrow, Chan.”

“Yeah, see you.”

The call does not end until Seungkwan gets Vernon to bid Chan goodbye too. Chan smiles as he listens to Seungkwan asking himself where the other teen had run off. The teen did not bother getting up from the bed after the call ended. He keeps laying on his back, staring at the ceiling without thinking of anything. His eyelids grow heavy. Going to sleep seems tempting, but the lingering smell of smoke keeps Chan fidgety. With energy he does not know where it comes from, he fought against his tired limbs and climbed down from the bed. Minghao and Jun’s clothes wander straight into the laundry basket before Chan slips into the shower. He had to wash his hair twice to get the reek of smoke out of it.

There was nothing but a few packs of Ramyun inside the kitchen cabinets. Cooking Ramyun was not as hard as expected. Except that he nearly coughed out half of a lung as he opened the package with the seasoning too quickly, breathing in some finely powdered spices. The silence of the apartment fills with music and the clattering of chopsticks hitting against a pot as he stirs the noodles. The young teen takes the pot down from the stove and puts it on the small table in front of the TV. His eyes wander to the couch, but the carpet invites him to take place on the ground. If his mother or teachers from home saw him sitting on the floor, he would get a scolding of a lifetime. 

Ramyun tastes just as good as the advertising promises. Putting aside the artificial flavor that might ruin his health later, Chan absolutely loves it. He keeps the music on as he crawls back into bed, lights arranged on the dimmest level. Using the remote control, Chan set a timer for the windows to shut down. He rolls on his side to look out of the window. The busy nightlife of Seoul took place through the movements of lights on the streets beyond. His breathing starts going slower. The boy blinks a few times before his tired eyes shut.

When he wakes up, Chan can tell immediately, that something is wrong.

Very wrong.

It is hot. 

Chan coughs as soon as he takes a breath. There is smoke everywhere, irritating his lungs and forcing him to bend over as he keeps coughing. The boy tries to breathe through his nose instead. Tears shot into his eyes a second later. His nose scrunched up as he tried to suppress the sneezing caused by the painful sting. 

He glances around as well as he can with his through tears blurred vision. 

"Why am I here again?"

Although Chan could not see more than vague silhouettes through all the smoke and tears glistering in his eyes, he knew he was back in the alley. He has to get out of here. The frangible dirty walls are partly burning. They are cracking and creaking under the flames, warning that they are about to collapse. The snow is long gone, melted into dark puddles that splash under his feet as the boy hurries down between the narrowly set buildings. 

"Where do you think you are going, boy?"

His head hits the wall with a sickening thud. 

The hand on his throat forces him to cling to every breath, fearing precious air to run out. A sense of deja vu overcomes him.

The man is scarier than before. The flames have taken half off his body by now. The fire spreads from the bloody red hole in his hand all over the charred upper body and parts of his legs. If the sight of the half by the flames-devoured body wasn't scary enough, Chan's stomach nearly tumbles over at the picture of the arm in front of him. The man's arm got twisted by 360°, only possible by the bones Chan had broken earlier. The unnatural angle triggers his gag reflex. Chan probably would start dry-heaving, if he wasn't pressed against the wall with a force that a multiple times broken arm shouldn't possess.

"You made me a little angry, boy."

The hand let go of his throat, but before his knees could grow weak on him, Chan gets roughly pushed onto the ground. The man bends over him, smirking down at him. He grabs Chan's arm that he held protectively over his face to keep the crazy man at a distance.

"Eye for an eye, arm for an arm. Wouldn't you agree?"

Chan's lip quivers as the man takes his arm between both hands, the grin spreading wider. Panic rises in him as he comprehends what is about to happen.

"No! Let me go! Don't do it!"

His voice grows higher as he panics at the hands gradually increasing the strength in their hold. The pain grows together with the volume of the man's laugh. Chan struggles under him, begging him to stop before he starts screaming at him at the top of his lungs. The pain gets nearly unbearable when the man suddenly stops laughing, a stern expression taking over his features. 

Dead eyes stare down on him, every sign of rationality long gone. A trickle of blood runs out of the man's mouth, forming a drop of red that hits Chan's cheek right under his eye. Chan does not even blink as his reflexes are frozen in fear. He could only stare at the man, eyes begging to let go. The focus in the man's eyes regains as if he had left reality for a moment, eyes meeting with the terrified stare of the boy under him. The corners of his mouth slowly rise again until a toothy grin sits on his face.

"Goodbye."

Chan passes out at the snap. It takes a few seconds until he is conscious again, but the teen cannot even scream. All sounds are taken from him by the hand back on his throat, pinning him onto the wet ground. 

"What's wrong? You cannot handle that much?" 

"Leave me alone."

The words come out barely as a whisper, but Chan knew the teen heard him.

"Aww, don't be like that Chan."

A hand gently cups his cheek and turns his head. A playful smile is sent his way by the teen who pins him down with one hand and a knee against his chest. Chan wishes nothing more to wipe that smile out of his face. He grows angry.

"It's your fault. Everything. All of this is your fault."

His voice grew louder until he shout at the other.

"My fault?" 

The teen sounds surprised as he shakes his head, soft locks bouncing slightly at the movement. He tilts his head, the smile never leaving his face as he stares into a pair of dark brown eyes.

"It is not my fault, Chan."

The smile turns into a grin that starts growing animalistic, rivaling the snarling of a beast. He bents closer until his and Chan's faces are only inches apart, unnaturally pale skin glowing slightly in the dark. Chan swallows as he tries to inch away but with nowhere to go. As if the teen is sensing his fear, the grin turns back into a soft smile. The hand is back on his cheek, thumb gently caressing the spot under his eye, smearing the half-dried drop of blood over honey-colored skin. He gazes at him with a loving fondness. The emerald green starts growing brighter, and the grip around his throat grows stronger. Chan stares at the spitting image of himself that cannot be more different, smiling down at him. The air had run out, black dots dancing around his vision as he watched himself bending down to his ear.

"It's not my fault Chan," repeats the teen as his free hand ruffles Chan's hair affectionately. He chuckles softly.

"It is your fault for being me."

His smile is the last thing Chan can recognize before he grows unconscious.

_____________________________________________

"Hi, Chan, what's u- Oh wow. You look like-"

"Shit?"

"I was about to say you look like you had a rough night, but yeah. That sums it up well too."

"Thanks, Vernon."

The older boy holds the door open for him. Chan takes his shoes off, putting them next to what he thought were probably Vernon's sports shoes. 

"By the way, do you and Seungkwan live together or something?"

Vernon gives him a surprised look before he slowly shakes his head.

"No, why are you asking?"

"Just curious."

Vernon keeps looking confused by the vague answer but shrugs it off. He leads Chan through the mansion. It's bright on the inside, fitting well into the image of the kind of environment he had Seungkwan expected to live. Whoever designed the manor managed to create a well-balanced border between coming off as sterile, disarmed by cream color and soft shades of gray. Traces of beige wooden accents add to the warmth. 

Seungkwan awaits them in an open and spacious living room, notes already laid in front of him. His eyebrows raise in question as soon as he sees Chan's face. Chan cannot hold it against him. When he looked into the mirror this morning, he knew what kind of reaction awaited him. The bags under his eyes are pretty self-explanatory. To his surprise, Seungkwan does not comment on his poor image. Instead, he gets straight into business, telling him to sit down and explain what happened yesterday in detail.

"- and then Minghao came outside and started to help to search-"

"Wait a second."

Chan's hand froze in motion. He was about to pull the cube out of his backpack while talking when Seungkwan butts in.

"Minghao? The Xu Minghao one class above us?" he asks, brows furrowed. 

"Yes?"

Chan didn't know the senior's surname or class, but he doubted there was a second Chinese student with the same first name attending.

"What's wrong? Did you fight with him?"

"Not me, but that's not important right now."

It was meant to be a joke. Chan had not expected such an answer. Minghao fought with someone Seungkwan knows? Maybe with his friends? But Chan didn't see Seungkwan hang out with more people than Vernon and him. Chan shakes off the useless thoughts and continues the story where he let off. Vernon and Seungkwan are sitting next to him on both sides, listening attentively. Chan deliberately lets out the part about being attacked on his way home. The story ends with the upper classmates walking him to the school's entrance.

"That's nice of them."

Vernon seems to be in a good mood, nodding to himself, his eyes focused on something on the horizon. His arms hug one of his knees to his chest while the other leg swings rhythmically over the edge of the couch. Seungkwan gives a hum as an answer, still thinking deeply about something. Chan sits quietly between the two, waiting for anyone to do something. His eyes fall on the cube sitting innocently in front of them. 

If he was being honest, he is sick of its sight by now. Call him old-fashioned, but he wouldn't be surprised if that thing is cursed. The teen takes it anyway, fingers tracing along the lines. Interestingly enough, the seal is back intact. The magic Mr. Yun used on the cube is more complex than expected. In theory, the possibility of the seal fixing itself is no thought to disregard. It's highly possible that since the cube did not get used after the seal got opened for the seal to go back to reset its purpose. His earlier observation is still standing. Opening the seal is no difficult task. Rather than being able to use magic skillfully, it needs what he could describe at best as finesse. Seungkwan should be able to do it. He simply needs to try a different approach this time. 

Seungkwan is currently chewing on the tip of his thumbnail, throwing a nervous glance toward Chan and Vernon. He gets up from his seat, pacing up and down the kitchen before leaning against the counter. His hand wanders back to his mouth. Instead of going back to chewing on his nails, Seungkwan bites on the knuckle of his index finger, another one of his nervous habits. 

"This is a bad idea." 

"You can do it, Seungkwan. You have to believe in yourself."

"I want to see you easily open your seal, Mr-Know-it-all."

Vernon crosses his arms over his chest, not looking bothered by the snark thrown in his direction. He is probably used to it. They have moved from the living room to the dining table next to the kitchen. Chan and Vernon are watching Seungkwan's nervous breakdown from their places on the chairs. 

"We went through the theory several times. You've got the seal figured out. Vernon is right. You can do it, Seungkwan." Chan tries his best to sound encouraging. He isn't used to it but tries to sound confident for Seungkwans sake.

Maybe Seungkwan had a point. Maybe this is a bad idea. They got told to not work on the project outside of the school because it could cause accidents. But they already had an accident inside the school, so it couldn't get worse, right?

"Ahh, this is driving me crazy! I must be crazy to do this."

"You're not crazy. You're very cool right now."

Chan is not entirely sure about the last part, but he has to agree with Vernon.  

Seungkwan takes a deep breath before walking over to them. He stands in front of the dining table that got cleaned off of everything except the cube. 

"You can do this, Boo Seungkwan," the teen tells himself. He stretches his arms and cracks his knuckles, shaking off all the nervousness. 

"Okay, I think I am ready."

"Wait a moment."

Chan takes Vernon's hand and pulls the taller teen with him behind the counter. He thrusts a pan into his hand and takes the next thing he can find, a cutting board, to shield himself. Seungkwan pouts and sends him a glare while Vernon inspects the pan next to him.

"For good measure. Not that I think we would need it. But safety first and all that."

Seungkwan shakes his head before he focuses on the cube. He takes his time with the spell, careful of the pronunciation as he sends his magic out. The teens behind the counter watch with anticipation how a few orange gleaming sparks appear in the breaking of light. The sparks softly settle on the seal. They observe how Seungkwan increased the level of magic just a little bit, searching for an opening inside the seal. Seungkwan's spell ends with the color of sparks changing into a saturated violet. Silence befalls the three teens as they stare at the cube, sitting in the same position as before. But now, without a seal.

Chan is the first to crawl out of his position behind the counter, putting the cutting board to the side. He frowns as he rubs at his leg, which fell asleep in the process. 

"Well, that was rather unspectacular."

The next moment Chan is caught in a tight hug, making him freeze up in his place. 

"Thank you so much for all the help, Chan."

Seungkwan sounded close to crying, not letting go of the slightly shorter teen. Vernon walks up to them and pats Chan on the back, making the other look up to him. The taller teen sends him a thumb up, the bright smile causing his nose to scrunch up slightly. Chan feels all kinds of emotion bubbling inside of him as he stands between the two teens, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He carefully returns the hug but stops himself from petting the back of Seungkwan's head. His hand hovers over Seungkwans head that the older teen has pressed against the junction of his shoulder and neck. As if Vernon senses Chan wavering, he reaches out and ruffles Seungkwan's hair. 

After peeling Seungkwan off of him, they settle down with the cube in their middle, finishing their work by writing the report. The sun is about to set by the time they finish writing everything down and comparing their results. 

"I'm starving. Should we order something?" asks Seungkwan as he let himself fall onto the couch. It is obvious that he's in a very good mood now.

"Already on it," mumbles Vernon between a bite of chips he had opened earlier, eyes focused on his mobile. 

"The usual?"

"Yep."

Chan feels like an outsider, having not a single clue what the other two are talking about. 

"When do you have to get home, Chan?"

The question caught Chan off guard. 

The work's done.

He should go home now. 

"I don't really have a curfew."

What is he saying?

"Great. Want to stay and watch some shows together?

"Yeah, sure."

Hold your horses, Lee Chan. That's not going according to the plan. 

Before Chan could change his mind, Seungkwan brought him and Vernon some cozy clothes to change into and some blankets to get comfortable on the couch. Chan raises an eyebrow as he watches Vernon walk back into the living room. The American teen catches his expression, eyes opening a little wider as he asks him what's up.

"Aren't that your clothes?"

The clothes Vernon wears certainly seem very unlike Seungkwan and more like Vernon's style. An oversized black hoodie with graphics on the front and the back along with some neon green colored sweatpants. Chan looks down on himself. A floral patterned white t-shirt with beige-colored sweatpants and fitting white socks. 

"As if I would ever wear something like that. No offense."

"None taken."

Seungkwan settles down next to them, handing them their glasses. Chan takes a sip of his orange juice, deciding not to comment on the fact, that Vernon has a set of clothes ready at Seungkwan's place. 

The food arrives soon after they put on the first show. Chan offers to go, but Vernon beats him to it. The teen returns with several bags hanging from his hands, a grin full of anticipation playing on his face. Chan watches the two unpack the food, unsure what he should do. Vernon seems excited about the food as he snaps a picture before tearing the bag open.

"I am going to murder these tacos."

"He's what?" Chan's eyes widen at the words. He might not be an ace in English, but he understands when a crime is about to happen. 

"Don't mind him. He always gets weird about Mexican food. Do you want chili or mayo?"

"Both?"

"A man of culture, I see."

They start eating. Seungkwan kept talking while Vernon " eats his tacos deliciously ", meaning he wolfs them down. The teen thought the explanation was necessary after seeing Chan's scandalized expression. Who wouldn't be surprised when your friend suddenly declares a murder?

Chan slowly finds himself enjoying this newfound situation. He lets himself be dragged down by the playful and enjoyable atmosphere, growing more and more comfortable in his place, squeezed between the two older teens on the couch. From time to time, the teen would smile at something funny happening until Seungkwan switched between the channels, searching for something new to watch. He halts at a channel broadcasting the latest episode of a comedy program.

"Isn't that the actor playing in the movie that will be released this April? What was his name again?"

Vernon looks up from his phone. He takes a look before giving Seungkwan the name. Seungkwan kept the channel on, seemingly interested more in the actor than the actual program, but Chan didn't mind. The program is actually pretty entertaining to watch, and Chan finds himself grinning at some of the jokes and sketches. 

When one of the comedians gives an incredibly bad wordplay while staring with a dead-serious expression right into the camera, Chan couldn't help to burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, that was so bad."

He wasn't even aware he had slapped Vernon's leg in the process, too busy recreating the stern expression of the actor. He tries to mimic his monotone voice but fails miserably as a smile breaks through before breaking out in giggles. Vernon glances at him with an amused expression as Chan keeps holding onto his knee.

"Having fun, I guess?"

Chan sinks back into the couch after he calms down, only now noticing Seungkwan and Vernon staring at him. 

"Something wrong?"

"Apart from your crappy sense of humor?" asks Seungkwan, an expression very similar to Vernon's.

Chan sobers up quickly.

"You didn't find it funny?"

Vernon has at least the decency to look sorry as he shakes his head.

"You laugh is way more entertaining than the joke, to be honest." 

"I second that."

Chan huffs at the reaction, a small pout on his face while Seungkwan and Vernon exchange grins over his head. They watched the show until the end, enjoying themselves immensely. Chan wouldn't stop holding it against Seungkwan when the other actually laughed about a joke, that neither Vernon nor Chan liked. 

"How can you be so annoying?" asks Seungkwan, looking like he's ready to shove a pillow against Chan's head.

"That means he likes you."

"Thanks, I have noticed."

Chips get thrown in their direction, earning Seungkwan a snicker from the two. In the end, Chan gets persuaded to spend the night. Seungkwan asks if they want to use separate rooms to sleep, but the three somehow manage to fall asleep on the couch together. When Chan wakes up, he finds his legs tangled with another pair of legs under a heap of blankets. He slowly rubs the sleep out of his eyes. A huge yawn overcomes him before he peeks out of his blanket cocoon. According to what his still sleep-clouded brain is able to recognize, the legs belong to Vernon. The teen is sleeping across from him, face buried into two pillows at once. 

When he glances down at himself, he notices that he is wearing a sweater over the t-shirt Seungkwan has given him the evening before. He stares at the piece of clothing in confusion, picking at the drawstrings. 

"Don't complain it's too warm now."

Seungkwan stands with his hand on his hips at the entrance between the kitchen and living room. Chan furrows his brows as he's not entirely sure, what the other is talking over. Seungkwan ignores the visible confusion and walks over to the couch.

"He's still sleeping?"

Chan merely nods as he watches Seungkwan gently patting Vernon's back, telling him to get up. He made them breakfast. Chan didn't have to ask if Seungkwan made it himself. The slightly burned toast and mushy scrambled eggs spoke for themselves. It tastes awesome.  It takes about four minutes to persuade Seungkwan that Chan can walk back home on his own. It was like talking with Minghao all over again, leaving Chan asking himself if he would have to keep talking people out of getting him a drive home. 

__________________________________________

Chan does not know what he has done wrong in his life before. Whatever it was, if it's the cause for Sejong and his friends waiting for him in front of the school on a Monday morning, it must have been a serious crime. He sees the group of students before they can catch sight of him. Chan considers trying to sneak past by hiding inside a group of students, but there are no groups big enough around. Should he turn back and walk around the school once, trying it from the other side?

"Why aren't you going inside?"

"Were you waiting for us?"

"Good morning!"

"I told you to stop being so formal."

Minghao rolls his eyes as Chan greets them with a bow, but smiles at him nevertheless. Jun also seems more comfortable since their last meeting, openly grinning at him as he holds up a hand in greeting. 

"Come on, you will miss your classes if you keep standing here."

It is no use to protest when he gets walked with one senior on each side into the school, both insisting to go together. Chan couldn't remember leaving much of a good first impression on the two but they are talking to him and each other as if this is a completely normal every day thingy. The two Chinese seniors tell him to have a nice day as their ways part at the stairs leading to the second floor. Chan had noticed the glances of the students. They were either observing him or focusing on the two older teens providing him company. Are Jun and Minghao famous? Even among students coming all from a higher class of society? Chan grows more and more curious about the two kindhearted upperclassmen and their social status inside the school. Seungkwan's reaction to Minghao had also being kind of mysterious.

He had took half of the stairs when he remembers something important. He didn't bring the bag with their clothes to school. Chan had washed the clothes himself, but now he forgot them at home. Well, there is nothing he can do about it now. Chan walks up the rest of the stairs. He could still give them back tomorrow, is what he though while walking past a wall of red-colored lockers, when all of sudden, a stern-sounding voice calls out to him.

"Hey! You are the new kid in the second year, right?"

Chan doesn't recognize the two older teens walking up to him. He could swear he had never seen them before. But although Chan does not see any familiarity in them, they undoubtedly seem to have some business with him. He glances wide-eyed from one teen to the other. He is sure he is going to remember them from now on. It is hard not to remember someone who tries to pin you down with a stare of sheer distaste.

"Can I help you with something?" Some students in the hallway are turning their heads in their direction. The teen who had called out for him sends them a single glare, causing the students to scatter in different directions. Chan cannot hold it against them, he would run too in their place. The black-haired senior owns an icy glare, expression stoic and unreadable. To put it simply, he is intimidating, but on another level.

The senior on the left had brighter eyes and softer features. The teen is not all edges like his friend and could be mistaken for seemingly kind, but his eyes also do not hold an ounce of friendliness.

"You will."

A shiver runs down Chan's spine at the words. The blackhaired teen pins him down with his stare while the other had his arms crossed over his arms, his whole appearance radiating "I don't like you and will let you know it". The change of atmosphere is awfully familiar to Chan. His thumb starts subconsciously rubbing against the ring sitting on his finger as he begins to realize what kind of situation he got into. And he barely managed to get away from Sejong this morning.

"Seungcheol! Joshua! I found Soonyoung!"

Their heads turn as two other students walk up to them. Chan considers taking the short moment of carelessness to run, but a single look down the frame of the black-haired teen keeps him from it. In any other situation he would be impressed, maybe even look up at someone keeping themself fit. Right now he could only think about, thsat getting caught by these guys would end worse than getting beaten up by Sejong and his classmates.

"Jeonghan, you came at the right time. We have found him."

The black-haired teen nods in Chan's direction.

"That's him?" asks one of the newcomers, apparently called Jeonghan. He gives him a curious glance as he scans Chan up and down while pushing a strand of reddish hair behind his ear. The other teen is a bit smaller but still taller than Chan. His styled-up bleach blond hair and piercings dangling down his ears are probably breaking several of the school dressing codes at one. He looks like the friendliest one, but Chan wouldn't trust any of them.

"Oh, Joshua you have found him! He's the one I saw!"

Chan nearly flinches as the blond points a finger at him, jumping in excitement.

"He's the one I told you about. The one who grabbed Vernon a few days ago!"

Joshua's head snaps from the blond teen back to Chan.

Chan frowned.

"I'm sorry, I think there might be a misunderstanding," begins Chan and walks forward a little before his way gets cut off instantly. Joshua takes a step in his direction, causing Chan to back off on instinct. Another step makes him shuffle back, a lump growing inside his throat at the sight of anger in Joshua's eyes.

"I don't think so."

Right before Chan's back could collide with the lockers, the sound of an angry sounding voice freezes the group in their current position.

"Let him go. Right now."

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 4)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

Spotify-Playlist for this fanfic

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

"Hi, I'm Chan."

From what Chan could tell, Jun is at least half a head taller than him. He wears a gray-black checked flannel shirt over a plain white t-shirt, his anthracite-colored sweatpants completing the stay-at-home look. He looks like he plans to stay days at a gaming cafe, thinks Chan as he gets a full view of the older teen. Jun runs a hand through his hair. It causes to mess the already disheveled brown strands up even more. He let his smartphone slide into the back pocket of his pants, and their eyes meet for a second. Jun looks away quickly. Why did Minghao bring him here if his friend is obviously uncomfortable around Chan? Who are these two seniors, and what is their intention for helping him?

"Maybe they want to make connections?"

He dismisses the thought quickly. There is no possibility for any of the students to know whose family's son he is. 

The teens stand across from each other, lost for words. If there had not been Minghao rummaging in a distant corner of the workroom, there would have been nothing but silence. It takes a few seconds until Jun unfreezes as the first of the two.

“Let me help you.” Chan is about to walk up to Jun, who takes tea cups out of a cupboard, putting them on a small wooden tablet where a glassy teapot already stands prepared. A hand on his shoulder holds him back.

“You should change into dry clothes. I’ll help Junhui.”

A set of clothes get pushed into his arms. Minghao’s expression made it clear that it had not been a suggestion. Chan is not sure if the senior means to be intimidating, but the feeling of not having a choice hangs heavily between them. He had not even noticed the older coming back until he stood directly next to him, freaking him out.

“Where can I change?”

“There is a small restroom that way. I’ll show it to you.”

After changing, Chan slowly steps out and quietly closes the door. When he walks into the room, he notices Jun looking up from his mobile. The action causes Minghao, sitting with his back to Chan, to turn his head. He silently gestures for him to take place. Rolling up the sweatpants had been a good idea. If Chan had not thought of it, he would have probably fallen flat on his face after taking two steps forward. The black sweat pants fit well, but the pant's legs were a few inches too long. Feeling a little out of place, Chan fidgets in his seat next to Minghao, pulling at the fabric of the lavender-colored V-neck. He feels their eyes on him. 

The tea has a light golden color. It's the same fragrant and sweet smell Chan had noticed as he walked into the room earlier.

“The clothes are big on you.”

Is Minghao making fun of him? Chan looks down at the baggy size clothes. He rolls the sleeves up. 

“Are your hands okay?”

It is surprising to have Jun talking to him. Chan guessed the teen would be too shy to get out more than a greeting.

“My hands?”

“Jun is the one who saw you outside. He got worried.”

Had Jun seen him out of the window?

“I see. They are fine.”

His hands are a bit red, but they are not hurting. The soft tan of his skin tone is slowly returning. What bothers Chan is the deep chill that sends a slight shiver through his body. He cannot remember how long he had been outside, but his nose feels stuffed. It’s a weird feeling. But he had found the cube, maybe getting a bit cold might be worth the effort-.

Chan jumps up from the couch.

“What the-.”

Jun visibly flinches, eyes wide at the younger teen standing up in a hurry. Minghao is nearly cursing as the action made him spill some freshly brewed tea over his fingers.

“I have to go! Thank you for the clothes, I'll bring them back soon.” 

“Wait!” 

Chan quickly slips into his wet pair of shoes. He is about to step out of the room as Jun stands up and calls after him.

“Hey, wait!”

Chan is already out of the door and runs down the corridor, Seungkwan’s cube in his hand. He hears someone calling after him again, but he has no time at hand. How could he forget Seungkwan and Vernon?

It took him a few minutes, leaving him out of breath until he found the classroom again. If he had not remembered the number standing on the sign outside, he would have thought he had gone to the wrong room. Chan steps into the empty classroom. He squints as he looks around. The cracks at the wall are gone. The broken window is back in its original shape without a single flaw left in the glass. The tables and chairs that lay around stand back in order, leaving no trace of what had happened. 

Chan walks over to the desk where Seungkwan had stood earlier. The shards of glass are gone too. But where are Seungkwan and Vernon?

He sneezes.

“I told you, you would catch a cold.”

Minghao steps into the room. He is wearing a frown as he crosses his arms over his chest, reminding Chan of a teacher ready to scold him.

“Your friends went home some time ago. They have left something for you.” 

Chan has not noticed Jun behind Minghao until the tall student walks up and hands him a piece of paper. A familiar jingling dances through the air while Jun walks, and Chan's eyes fall on the bag in Jun's hand, eyes growing wide.

 “That is my bag.” It sounds more like a question, and he takes the bag with a thankful nod in the older teen's direction.

“Seungkwan told me to give it to you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to frown. 

Jun and Seungkwan know each other?

“Thank you.”

Seungkwan’s handwriting is messy, words obviously written down in a hurry. Chan reads through the apology for going home first. He can imagine the sorry tone of Seungkwan's voice echoing inside his mind. The letter also contained a short explanation, of how they got Mrs. Kim to help them out. They are meeting her again on Monday, all three of them. Chan could already guess it means they are not getting out of the incident without getting scolded. Not that he had expected anything else. At the end of the letter, two phone numbers got written down. Although Seungkwan had written his and Vernon's names next to the numbers, Chan had already recognized the American teen's handwriting. 

His eyes fall onto the last sentence, standing a little further down, ending the letter.

“Please call me.”

He sneezes twice.

“I knew this would happen.”

“Don't scold him, Hao.”

“I’m not scolding him. I’m just frustrated.”

“Maybe you should start meditating again.”

Chan does not know what the two Chinese seniors are talking about, as he listens to the brief banter in Chinese. Minghao glares at a grinning Jun, leaving Chan wondering what is going on between them.

“Come, you should get warmed up before getting sick.”

I want to go home is what Chan is thinking about, but he cannot protest. The seniors seem kind, and Chan does not want to try to offend them by declaring the offer. He already has enough to deal with his classmates, he does not need to attract more negative attention. 

Walking between the two seniors made Chan feel small, the high ceiling of the school corridors doing nothing to lesson feeling pressured.

Back in the workroom, Chan gets told to sit down. He guesses he isn't going home until Minghao is satisfied seeing him drink the tea, convinced that he is properly warmed up. His guess gets confirmed by the Chinese student pouring him a second cup, telling him it will prevent him from getting sick. It feels weird to sit with the seniors, as none of them is talking. Minghao sat with his eyes closed on the couch, tea in his hands, while Jun typed on his mobile.

“Are you not going home soon?”

“We stay at the dormitory.”

The image of the mansion-like building appears inside Chan's mind. He could picture the two wealthy teens from another country staying at the luxurious dormitory well. It made sense, but at the same time, Chan was wondering why the students were still at school and not at the dorm. It is already ten p.m. 

“I should go home.”

“Alone in the dark?”

Minghao opens one eye, sending him a skeptical glance. Does the older student expect Chan to stay the whole night with two strangers?

“It’s not far from school.”

That was a lie.

“You can stay with us for the night.”

Chan nearly chokes on his tea. He feels Jun's eyes on him but pretends he does not notice.

“Thank you, but I really should go.”

“Let him Minghao. His parents are probably worried.”

Chan keeps quiet at Jun's words. He fears Minghao won't let him go if the older knew he lives alone.

“I call you a driver.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”

He could tell Minghao was hesitant. Jun puts a hand on his knee, starting to speak to him in Chinese. It takes some minutes of soft muttered words but whatever Jun said seems to have convinced Minghao, although the black-haired teen does not look happy. Chan is allowed to leave after being accompanied all the way to the front gate and letting Minghao and Jun save their numbers onto his smartphone.

It's a starless night. He pulls the college jacket Jun lend him closer as a breeze pushes past. His nose is running, and his skin feels clammy. Is it this easy to catch a cold?

“Hey, kid. Got a moment to talk?”

Chan sighs.

What else does he have to do to go home in peace? The student continues walking, ignoring the small group of men standing next to the exit of a rundown nightclub calling after him. Solely a few more streets, and he would be home.

“I said, let’s talk.”

He had not expected them to lose interest quickly but getting pulled back by them and grabbing his bag caught Chan off guard. Several pairs of hands are seizing him, and he gets hauled up from the ground only to get dragged into a small side street. The teen stumbles, but the crushing strength of a hand on his arm keeps him from falling a second time.

“You’ve got some money on you, kid?”

The man in front of him wears a nasty grin, the scent of alcohol strong on him.

“I have no money.”

Fingers press harshly against the flesh of his cheeks as the man grabs him by the chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t make this difficult, kid.”

Although the clothes Chan wore are a messed-up combination of what Jun and Minghao had given him, they scream wealth without the need of having brand names and logos printed across the fabrics. He could have guessed to be a target at this time of the night, a young student walking around alone. While Chan gets held down by two of the men, another one grabs his bag, tearing it off his shoulder. Books and notes get thrown onto the ground, and soon most of Chan's belongings are scattered over the dirty snow.

“Hey, I found something. We can sell this.”

Chan starts struggling in their hold as the light reflects on the surface of the metal cube.

“Would you look at this.”

The hand clenching around his jaw lets goes to take the cube. Chan watches helplessly as greedy eyes measure up its worth. He did not struggle all day searching for it to get taken away.

“You could have said something about this, boy. This is just as good as money.”

The men laugh. The sound made Chan clench his fists, the metal of his ring cutting into the skin of his hand.

“Give it back!” Chan glares at the man.

The ugly grin turns into an angry grimace. Chan’s face is grabbed again, this time with more force, causing the men on his sides to let go of the teen. He gets pushed against a wall, dirty plastering drizzling down on him, pieces of it getting caught in his hair. The hand around his throat holds him tightly, having him stand on his tiptoes to avoid getting choked.

“Do you think being cocky will help? I should teach you some manners.”

Chan stares at the raised hand. At first, he thought the man would slap him across the face, but then he pulled something out of his pocket. A bloody red magic stone comes to light. The dark magic that is radiating out of it in the form of billowing gray smoke and the scent of burning charcoal is only perceptible to Chan.

“Do you know what this is, boy?” The man’s anger changes into glee as he holds the stone in front of Chan's face.

“Have you ever witnessed real magic? I’m going to show you what it looks like.”

The man starts mumbling a spell, his breath carrying the smell of alcohol and something rotten to Chan, making him feel nauseous. He watches the stone burst into purple-colored flames. The man's skin starts burning and turns black, morphing into the blazing silhouette of a smoldering hand, ready to strike. 

The men who have been standing next to Chan shift in their places, stepping back, slightly flustered at the sight of dark magic.

“Don’t you think you are going overboard? That could kill him.”

Getting hit by that could not just kill a person. It means death. If a human gets hit by that, there is no doubt that it would melt their face-off.

“Shut the hell up!”

The purpure ember flares up at the man’s angry scream, purple flames guzzling at the fabric of his sleeve. The flames start to lick at the skin of his underarm, parts of blackening skin growing.

“He has completely lost it! We have to go!”

A piercing scream fills the air as a wall of flames cut off the running men’s way, one of them getting burned as he could not stop quickly enough. The other two have to pull him out of the fire and throw him onto the ground, hitting on the burning clothes to keep him from getting eaten by the hungry flames.

The man holding Chan is unimpressed by the chaos behind him. His eyes solely focused on the teen glaring up at him. 

“Don’t you think it’s enough already?”

He raises an eyebrow at Chan’s words.

“You are certainly an insane boy. Not fearing black magic is asking for death.”

The irony of the words makes Chan scoff. He glances at the hand. The magic stone has burned itself a place in the palm of the man’s hand, feeding into the angrily pulsating flames that dance across the man’s blistering flesh. If Chan won't put an end to this, the man is going to get eaten alive. 

“Better be thankful.” 

“Stop muttering to yourself, brat!” 

It takes a quick snap of Chan’s wrist and the sound of bones breaking before Chan can move freely again. The man crouches in front of him, holding his still burning but broken arm pressed tightly against his chest. Chan steps closer but halts in his walk as the man’s shoulder starts shaking. The sound of laughter fills the dark side street that is still shielded from the rest of the city by a wall of purple flames. 

The laughter ends with a wet cough. The man looks up, and Chan notices the flames have reached his shoulder. He needs to hurry.

“You are an interesting one.”

The man stumbles as he stands up, cradling his arm close to his middle, a mad grin plastered on his face. He starts a short spell, sending purple flames in Chan’s direction. The flames hit the teen directly, engulfing his entire body in a blazing firestorm. The man’s laughter gets stuck in his throat as the flames start dying, and the student walks toward him. His eyes grow wide, jaw clenching and forehead wrinkling as he sends another set of flames flying but with the same result. 

“If you have not noticed already, that does not work on me.”

Chan's bored-sounding voice fuels his anger. The man screams, and his bones rearrange under the sound of unhealthy cracking noises, arm glowing as the power of the dark magic bundles for a final strike. He rushes forwards, ready to burst another, a stronger flare of fire right against the student's head as Chan holds a hand up. He catches the flying arm and twists it, breaking the bones a second time that night. The pained scream falls on deaf ears as Chans eyes the magic stone in the middle of the man’s palm. 

Chan takes off his ring before pressing his hand against the man’s palm, interlocking their fingers to keep him from pulling back. For the first time in days, Chan lets go of his suppressed magic. He can feel the magic stone against his hand reacting to his body. The dark magic gets pulled out of the man, the process going hand in hand with a scream that grows silent after the magic stones bursts into small pieces. He catches the body growing limp against him and carefully leans him against a wall. Chan puts a hand against the man’s forehead and then at the place of his hand where the magic stone had gored into the flesh. There is not a trace of black magic left inside the body.

A small sight crosses his lips.

The student straightens up and turns towards the three men watching him with different degrees of wariness.

“Are you alright?”

He can see the burning marks on their hands and clothes.

“You!”

One of the men points at him, fear smeared all over his face.

“You are not human. You can’t be human!”

Chan steps closer, holding his hands in front of his chest, trying to appear as harmless as possible. 

“Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?”

“He’s a demon, I tell you. I read about them. He is definitely one of them!”

“A demon?” 

The other men, who were sitting frozen in shock on the ground, start backing away in panic, stumbling to their feet as their friend's words get processed in their minds. They run before Chan can stop them, leaving him alone with the unconscious man. He doubts they are going to tell anyone what had happened, as it would throw up the question of where they got an illegal black magic stone. He turns back to the sitting man. The dark magic has taken a significant toll on him.

“He is not going to remember any of this,” mutters Chan, as he checks his location before making an anonymous call to the ambulance. He hopes they won't brush him off as a prank call and send someone over. He checks the man again, but apart from a broken arm and some burning marks, he seems fine. 

Chan hurries to pick up his stuff and Seungkwan’s cube, too tired to care if the papers got wet due to laying in the snow. He absent-mindedly puts his ring on again and walks back home. Remembering Seungkwan’s letter, Chan takes the paper out of his bag and saves his classmate's numbers. After reading over the letter again, he considers calling Seungkwan. But then Chan plays with the thought of simply letting it be. If he gets asked on Monday why he hadn't called, he can pretend to have forgotten about it. It's a good plan.

In the end, Chan sends a short message. 

To Seungkwan:

Found your cube. 

To Chan:

Did you search until now?

To Seungkwan:

No, I am home now. 

Forgot where I put your number.

To Chan:

Call me.

To Seungkwan:

Do I have to?

Chan’s phone starts ringing. He lets out a groan. “I hate you Seungkwan.”

He flops down onto his bed before picking up the call. 

"Chan?"

"Vernon?"

He did not expect that.

"How are you doing? Are you alright?"

The question leaves him a little dazed as he stares against the ceiling. The words of the men are echoing in his mind.

"Chan? Are you there?" comes Vernon's worried voice out of the speaker.

He blinks a few times.

"Sorry, I was dreaming."

They continue to talk as Chan walks to the bathroom and takes out the contact lenses. They have been irritating him since earlier.

"I heard you found the cube?"

"Yes, I somehow found it. But I think I lost two fingers and a toe due to frostbite."

There is a soft chuckle coming from the other side. Chan can hear Seungkwan's voice before Vernon is back on the phone.

"Seungkwan wants to talk, I'll put you on speaker, alright?"

"Sure."

Some rustling can be heard, before someone breathes right into the microphone, making Chan pull a face and hold the phone away from his ear. He puts it on speaker and lays it on the pillow next to his head, at a safe distance from his ear.

"Chan?"

"Hi, Seungkwan."

[inneedofsupervision]

In a World full of Color, We only see Black and White (Chapter 3)

Summary:

Being homeschooled until now, Chan stands two days after turning sixteen in front of an actual school for the first time in his life. Chan's plan; keep low and get this done without causing himself trouble. But that's easier said than done when you only pretend to be human. In a society where people split into those who can use magic and those who are not, demons have nearly hit extinction. They are beasts accepted but still frowned upon by society and thus live with their true nature hidden. To this day, demons almost started becoming a myth. Chan is one of them.

Seventeen fanfic; High School AU, Fantasy AU, Demons and Humans AU

Spotify-Playlist for this fanfic

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Read on Ao3

“What happened to your face?”

 “It’s nothing.”

The young teen sits down before putting his head in his arms. He’s not in the mood to talk. The bandage around his lip stretches his skin when he speaks. The sensation is uncomfortable.

He had run back home yesterday, the similarity of it reminding him of the incident of Monday. He feels a little pathetic thinking back on it. Chan had thrown his bag onto the bed and went into the bathroom to inspect his face. There was blood, the aftermath of the punches he had to take until Sejong told him it was “ enough for today ”.

He made it sound like Chan should consider himself lucky for only getting beaten up this much. Sejong's words still linger in his mind, giving him an unpleasant feeling as he recalls his voice. The cuts are gone by now, but the sight of blood on his skin had been unsettling. Chan was thankful for not hurting while washing up. The injuries had healed quickly after he stopped suppressing his magic. He had taken the egg out of the school bag and set down against his bed, holding it between his hands. The excitement had died down, and though the egg's beauty still amazes him, Chan did not feel like exploring what was inside. With a sigh, he put the egg next to him on a pillow. Chan pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on it. While he sat leaning against the bed, many thoughts and questions had crossed his mind. Answers, he had none, and in the end, he was mindlessly watching the sunset.

The soft flutters of fingers against his hair pull him back into presence. Seungkwan holds a few dark strands that frame Chan's forehead to the side. He clicks his tongue, an action that starts to grow familiar to Chan. Chan has noticed that Seungkwan does it often. Most of the time, when he gets irritated or upset. The sound got him to glance up in curiosity. Seungkwan is frowning at the sight of another, smaller dressing, sitting at the corner of Chan's eyebrow.

“I wouldn't call this nothing, Chan. It looks rather painful.” 

Chan rolls his eyes. He brushes Seungkwan’s hand off. “I told you, it’s nothing.”

The teen knew Seungkwan meant well, but he still got annoyed at the action. Why does Seungkwan not leave him alone? He and Chan are not friends, Seungkwan has no reason to sound so concerned. The bandages on his face were just for show. Not that anyone knew about it, but he was only wearing them since it would be suspicious if he walked around school completely unharmed. Sejong might be a violent idiot, but he is not dumb. He would know something was off if he saw Chan walking around without a scratch after getting beaten up.

Guessing by the expression he receives, neither Seungkwan nor Vernon believes him, but they at least stop questioning him. Chan changes his position to look out of the window, partly to avoid their judgmental stares and partly because it is more comfortable. His seat neighbors stop trying to talk to him after that. The teen is grateful for being left alone until the class starts. He still cannot grasp why the two are getting so worked up. Minutes pass as if they were hours, making it seem like time is running differently in this place. Chan questions his sanity as he keeps glancing at the clock. It feels like time to go home, instead of a lunch break.

"Next lesson we will begin a new topic. I'm reminding you now to bring your textbooks along." 

His back gives a mean cracking sound as he stretches, but it feels more comfortable after. He stifles a yawn as he gets up, hand covering his mouth. He finds himself wondering when he did agree to eat lunch together. It had been very natural how Seungkwan and Vernon waited for him in front of his desk while he packed his stuff. Before Chan knew what happened, he was already sitting together in an empty classroom, chewing without any appetite on a piece of apple Seungkwan handed him. A mix of rain and snow slides down the windows, fitting perfectly into the image of a cold and uncomfortable day in February. 

Vernon had put his phone and air pods to the side, blowing Chan’s theory that the teen would stop functioning without his air pods. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Vernon’s head rolled onto his chest at some point as the boy fell out of order. Chan had mentally prepared himself for either Seungkwan or him to attach Vernon back to a source of music, to prevent further damage. After some talking (or rather listening to Seungkwan complaining), it turns out that Vernon has a habit of listening to music without noticing what is happening around him. The revelation had been an eye-opener to Chan. 

"Did you two get ideas on how to approach our group work?", asks Seungkwan and hands Chan another piece of apple. Chan shakes his head, not wanting more, but Seungkwan simply pushes the fruit against his lips. Chan raises an eyebrow at the action but opens his mouth, letting Seungkwan shove the piece of apple inside.

“I found something, but I would like to read more about it before trying it out. If that’s alright with you guys.”, answers Vernon. 

"Sounds good. I can finish mine by the end of the day," replies Seungkwan, while feeding Chan the rest of his apple. They keep studying in silence. While the others are working, Chan thinks about the lack of magic detectors on the school grounds. During their walk through the buildings, Chan kept his eyes open. To his disappointment, his observations have been futile. The teen could not feel the presence of any detector magic at all. The chance that there might not be any observatory magic inside the school has crossed his mind more than once. 

“Chan? Are you okay? You have been frowning for some time now.”

"Hmm?”

Had he been frowning? “I was dreaming, sorry.” Seungkwan frowns at the confession but keeps quiet. Chan looks away, feeling a little guilty after admitting it. He should start working on a spell or at least pretend to. It does feel useless since Chan could cast magic without needing to rely on spells. He knew he had to do it at some point for his assignment, but right now, he cannot find the motivation to do so. His eyes fall onto the pile of papers next to Vernon’s arm. 

“Hey Vernon, can I lend your notes?”

Chan is about to take them when a hand on his arm holds him back. Seungkwan had stopped him and held his notes in Chan's direction instead.

“You can use mine.”

The younger teen gives Seungkwan a questioning look.

“Is there something wrong with me using Vernon’s notes?”, he asks.

“No. Of course not,” answers Seungkwan in a hurry, quickly letting go of Chan’s arm. 

That was weird.

“Are you uncomfortable with me reading them?”, asks Chan Vernon. 

Vernon's hand with the notes hovers awkwardly in the air between them. Seungkwan grimaces as he watches, but Chan does not care about the awkward atmosphere. Seungkwan’s reaction had thrown him off too much to put any effort into making it less uncomfortable. He does not know if he stepped over some unknown boundaries. Chan keeps glancing back and forth between the two students. 

“It’s okay. You can read them”, reassures Vernon and pushes the notes in his hands. Chan thanked him quietly, but the feeling that he missed something did not leave. After that, they continue working in silence. From time to time Vernon and Seungkwan exchange some words and ideas. Chan half-heartedly listens as he skims through the papers before squinting at something that catches his attention.

“What does this mean?”

He points at one of the small side notes, written in English. “Is it important?” 

Chan has not expected Vernon to get up from his seat to help him out. He did not comment on the hand on his shoulder as Vernon leaned closer to glance at the note.

“That is just a translation. I did not know how to write that in Korean.” He points to a copied passage for emphasis, where a word got underlined in yellow color. 

“I see. Thank you.”

Apart from the English notes that appear on some pages, there is nothing Chan has not known before. But he guesses it would look better to copy some, so he starts working. Vernon's handwriting is neat, and his summaries, as well as his explanations, are precise. Chan wonders again about his classmates, still curious about the issue of getting help from Vernon. After spending some time together, he still has not noticed something unusual. He glances at the teen from the side. His eyes meet a striking side profile, strong jawline, completed with high-sitting cheekbones and thin lips. Vernon got blessed with clean skin, either not struggling with acne or maybe already through the trouble. It got Chan a little jealous. A minimal amount of baby fat still sits on his cheeks, taking some of the mature looks and adding some softness to his appearance.

“Something on my face?”

Chan's not-so-subtle side-glances got noticed by Vernon. Chan purses his lips after getting caught in the act. He leans his head on a hand and looks at Vernon, causing the latter to raise an eyebrow at Chan blatantly staring at him.

“Handsomeness?”, asks Chan without batting an eyelid, causing Seungkwan to give an ungraceful snort before asking, "Where the heck did that come from?". The blond does not even try to hide his judging expression.

Vernon only seems amused at the sudden compliment. He copies Chan’s position, mirroring him as he stares back at him, a playful glint in his eyes. He makes a show out of looking up and down on Chan before he replies.

“You are handsome too."

“Thanks.”

Seungkwan leans back slightly and pulls a grimace while opening his drink. “What the hell is going on with you two?”, he asks again, visibly bewildered as he watches.

“Jealous?” Chan directs his eyes in Seungkwan’s direction, suppressing the grin that tries to fight through his stoic expression. Seungkwan scoffs at him, rolling his eyes before taking a sip of his water. Chan could swear he heard him mutter something like, " kids these days ." under his breath. As if Seungkwan was not only just a year older than him.

“You look like you have a question, Chan”, says Vernon, who is still watching him. 

Is it that easy to read his expressions?

“I got curious,” begins Chan, although a bit unsure if it is the right time to bring up the topic. But when will he get a chance again? 

“Why did the class react so odd, as Mr. Choi told us to work together?”

He directs the question at both of his seat neighbors. Vernon sits up again, the amused expression from earlier whipped off his face. It was no surprise that Seungkwan was the first to answer after giving it a short thought. He carries a sour look on his face as he starts explaining.

“As you might have noticed, Vernon comes from overseas. At the beginning of the school year, someone started a rumor about him not speaking Korean. The rest of the class was as dumb as to believe the rumor and started to add more to it. Not like Vernon’s Korean is better than most people in school if you ask me.”

The protectiveness in Seungkwan's words and voice is rather evident. Chan could imagine it quite easily. Being one of the more introverted students, Vernon got misunderstood for not understanding the others just because he had no interest in interacting with them.

“It got worse after Vernon had asked for a translation once. He was unaware of the rumors. The class went wild after it. It was as if they had been waiting for it to happen. The rumors blew up, and some of the students keep bringing it up on a regular base to joke about it.”

Chan frowns after Seungkwan finishes the explanation. He knew what the older teen meant, having witnessed the “ jokes ” himself. Now that Chan knows the cause, the teen catches himself with mixed feelings. Taking Seungkwan and the class's reactions into account, he has waited for a dramatic story. Something with twists and turns, giving some sense to the weird dynamics inside the classroom. After putting the puzzle together, the finished picture is less complex than he had expected. The emotions he feels evolved into a confusing mix of disappointment and shock. Shock about how easily the people take a constructed build-up of rumors and lies to reason their behavior.

Chan is puzzled as the thoughts keep running inside his head until he notices Seungkwan and Vernon glancing at him. The mood has gone down thanks to Chan’s curiosity, and while they are still waiting for a reaction, he thinks about how to make the atmosphere less stifling. It leaves Chan asking himself where the feeling of responsibility comes from. He frankly could care less. It had not bothered him before, so why should he care now? But for some reason, after listening to the story, Chan came to dislike the uncomfortable atmosphere. Maybe it is the tension in Vernon’s posture or the nervous spin Seungkwan does with his pen. Whatever it is, it leaves Chan in an awkward position.

“Is that why you keep wearing air pods all the time?”, asks Chan Vernon, wincing inwardly at the unnatural change of topic. He tries to convince himself that he is not used to this type of social interaction, a weak excuse for the lack of smoothness in his talking skills. He knows better than anyone that he was lying, but Chan cannot stand through this without giving himself some pep talk.

“No. I just enjoy listening to music.”

The soberly way Vernon answers make Chan's hamster wheel of thought stop for a moment. 

"You are kind of a weirdo, you know that?" He has not meant to say what was on his mind without filtering it, but the words left his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Chan!”, scolds Seungkwan, looking scandalized to a point where Chan could not help but feel like Seungkwan has a hang for being overly dramatic, but Vernon only chuckles in amusement.

“You might be right about that,” he says with a grin.

They meet back in the empty classroom after the rest of the classes are over. Until then, Chan has managed to convince himself, that Vernon did not get offended by his words earlier. It seems to be quite the opposite, the taller teen appears more comfortable with Chan than before. 

Seungkwan is currently setting the cube on the table. Apparently, the teen finished his spell during class and wants to try taking the first step in the practical assignment. Vernon and Chan stand a little further from the table, just in case putting a safe distance between themselves and Seungkwan. The latter looks a little nervous as he stands in front of the table, licking his lips.

“You can do it, Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan glances up as Vernon shows him a thumbs up. He gives a short smile and holds his fist up, a weak try to look courageous. Chan stands next to the taller teen, arms folded over his chest, watching as Seungkwan turns back towards the cube.

The first passage of the spell ends without any errors. The magic unfolds effortlessly from Seungkwan’s hands, causing a flare of orange-blazing sparks to dance around the cube. “ So far, it looks good ”, thinks Chan as he watches the sparks settling onto the seal. Now Seungkwan only had to find the right amount of magic to break it. Thankfully the seal did not contain several locks or protection mechanisms. Mr. Choi made it relatively simple but required some skill to open it.

Seungkwan takes a deep breath. He starts the second part of the spell. The sparks start glowing brighter with every word. They are shining in a bright yellow and are still gaining intensity. Chan tilts his head to the side. The amount of magic should be enough to open the seal by now. 

“How much magic is he going to build up?”, asks Chan Vernon with a whisper. There is a foreshadowing feeling as he observes the magic unfolding from Seungkwan’s hands. 

“I think Seungkwan is planning to unload it all at once.”, answers Vernon quietly, to not disturb his friend's concentration. 

“Huh?”, Chan turns to Vernon, eyes wide in shock. “Are you sure?”

Vernon looks at him in question. “Do you think that is not going to work?”

Chan never thought that the innocents and naivety in someone's voice could cause him to panic as much as Vernon managed to do just now. He looks back at Seungkwan, hoping it is not too late. The sparks are glowing blindingly white. They start to spread over the seal, causing Chan's panic to grow as he watches. He finally understood what Seungkwan planned to do, but it did nothing to lessen his fears.

“We have to stop him. It is not going to work.”

Chan is about to go crazy as he tries to think about what to do. If he calls out for Seungkwan, he would disturb him and might cause him to bring himself in danger. But if Seungkwan releases the magic now, it would be just as dangerous. The magic concentrated on the seal is way too high. Chan looks around, searching for anything that could help in the situation. If he could only use his powers. 

Vernon is about to say something at the same time as Seungkwan’s spell comes to an end. Chan could not understand whatever the teen wanted to say.

“Get down!”

He shouts and grabs Vernon by the hand, pulling him down to the ground. 

The next few seconds pass in a flash. A white flare shoots from Seungkwan’s hands as the magic unloads with explosive power. The cube glows up, and a white jolt of magic darts out of its inside. The silver lines covering it change colors as the seal burst with a loud crack, similar to the sound of meter-thick ice breaking. The power of the seal breaking sets enough energy free to send the cube flying. With a wind-cutting noise, it shoots past Seungkwan and hits the classroom wall, only to turn into a ricochet and rebound after leaving a small crack at the place it hit. If Chan did not pull Vernon down in time, who knows what kind of injury the teen could have received. The cube shoots through the air where Chan and Vernon had been standing just a moment before. With a loud shattering noise, it breaks down the classroom window and flies outside into the garden.

“Are you okay?”

Vernon looks up to him, visibly shocked. Chan's eyes scan over him, but to his relief, he does not find any injuries on the teen. He pulls him up before quickly walking towards Seungkwan, who cowers on the ground. 

“Did you get hurt?”

Chan crouches down next to Seungkwan. He carefully puts a hand on Seungkwan’s arm that the latter is still holding up in an attempt to shield his face. Chan notices how Seungkwan is shaking. He gives Vernon an urgent look, silently waving him closer.

Chan has to ask him again if he is alright before Seungkwan gives a short nod. Thankfully most of the shattered glass flew outside the window. Only a few shards lay scattered around his classmate. While Vernon helps Seungkwan up, also asking if everything is okay, Chan looks around the classroom. Apart from the broken window and the light cracks in the wall, nothing else seems to have got destroyed. He is relieved that nothing happened to Vernon and Seungkwan.

“What went wrong?”

Seungkwan is leaning against Vernon, the taller teen holding him up with an arm around his waist. He is not injured, but his knees feel weak due to the shock. Chan could not hold it against him. Seungkwan's magic has caused quite a spectacle. 

“To put it very simply, imagine the seal as a door. There are different ways how to unlock it. Normally, you would try using a key. But in this case, you did not create a fitting key but just threw a bomb at the door and caused it to break the whole house down. Quite literally.” Chan points at the broken window behind him.

Although Seungkwan is still in shock, he raises an eyebrow at the explanation. The younger teen then realized that Seungkwan’s question had been rhetorical. He has not expected an actual answer. Chan gave a short cough, getting a little embarrassed, and turned around to look at the broken window. 

“Are we going to run or should we look for a teacher?”

“We are going to get a teacher!” Seungkwan looks scandalized at Vernon’s suggestion. Vernon shrugs his shoulder, avoiding Seungkwan staring up at him.

Chan turns around, pointing at the window again. “Shouldn't we look for the cube first? The sun is about to set.”

Vernon tilts his head, looking quite serious. “How far do you think it flew?”

“Good question.”

Seungkwan looks like he would faint any second. Vernon volunteers to get a teacher together with Seungkwan. The sleet has turned into snowflakes by the time Chan sets a foot outside the school building. 

There is not much time left before it gets dark. Chan walks backward as he searches for the broken window. He considers sending some magic out to make the search easier but decides against it. He should keep being careful. 

After searching for about twenty minutes, Chan reconsiders the idea of using magic. It is freezing cold outside. The snow does not seem to stop anytime soon. Chan's jacket starts to grow heavier as it gets soaked. He blows into his hands, before shoving more snow to the side. 

"I should have sent Vernon to look for the cube", mumbles the teen under his breath, not actually meaning it. His fingertips are turning red. Chan pulls a face as he straightens his back and looks around. The traces of his search are all over the snow. He has searched a rather large area by now, but still no sight of the cube. He glances back at the school building, eyes on the broken window. Chan tries to get a rough feel for how far the cube could have flown.

"It should be somewhere around here."

He rubs his hands together and puts them into his jacket pockets, jumping up and down a few times to warm his body up. There is not much time left until dawn. He pulls his hand out and crouches down again. Chan is so focused on his task that he does not notice the sound of boots walking on freshly fallen snow. 

"You are going to catch a cold."

The Chinese accent is decent but still recognizable. A pair of gloves gets held into his vision. 

"What are you looking for?"

The person crouches down next to him. Chan glances at the gloves that the other teen is holding out to him. Chan's gaze does not get unnoticed. The student takes one of his freezing hands in his own and puts the gloves in it.

"Take them."

"Thank you."

He is being watched the entire time while putting them on as if the other teen does not trust him to accept his help. His fingers are already cold and wet from pushing the snow around, but wearing them is probably better than to keep searching in this weather with bare hands.

Chan noticed that he had not given the other student an answer. 

"I'm looking for a cube. It's around this size." He holds his hands up to visualize a rough idea of what he is talking about.

The teen crouching next to him gives a sharp nod and stands up. Chan is about to thank him for the gloves again, but the other just got up to walk to an untouched area. He kneels and starts pushing snow to the side like Chan did a moment before. They are silent while searching. The sun sets, but neither of them stops to look through the snow. At some point, the other teen takes his mobile phone out and puts on the flashlight. Chan would do the same, but he had left his smartphone in his bag. He squints his eyes, the snow reflecting the bit of light that is still left. 

He looks up when he hears someone talk. The other student stands a few meters away with his mobile held against his ear. He talks in a soft voice, bearly audible, but Chan would not have understood anything anyway. From the bits and pieces that the wind carried over to his ears, he could tell the other is talking in Chinese. 

A few moments later, a hand is tipping lightly against his shoulder. 

"It's hard to search in the dark. You should go inside."

"I'm searching for a friend. I have to find it today."

Chan got surprised by his own words. The student gives him a concerned glance but it's hard to see in the dark. Chan waits for him to protest, but instead of urging him to stop, the other shakes his head lightly before turning on the flashlight again. The sun had gone down completely. The heavy snowfall has become less. There are still some lonely snowflakes softly dancing to the ground, but it did not compare to the masses from earlier. Now, the darkness made it hard to see what is laying in front of him. Chan struggles to distinguish between the places he has searched already and which are still left untouched. 

He wonders if Seungkwan and Vernon have gone home by now. The gloves had held out for some time, but Chan started to feel the coldness seeping through the fabric. The teen reaches a point where he thinks about giving up. He is freezing, he could not see well, he cannot use magic, and his back and knees are aching. The cube would not get damaged by being outside for a night. It is probably easier to search for it the next day, but Chan is also too stubborn to give up. He has been searching for quite some time now. It would feel pointless to give up now, after all the effort he has put into the search.

A mobile phone rings. 

Chan keeps searching as the student picks up the call. He stretches before taking the gloves off. The wet skin of his hands inside the gloves starts to feel uncomfortable. He puts the gloves to the side and robs a few meters on his knees. He starts pushing through the snow as his hand starts to sting while scratching over something hard. He lets out a short hiss. Chan squints at the snow, but it is hard to see anything. He barely notices the student ending the call as he takes one of the gloves and dusts the powdery snow to the side. Chan lets out a silent shout of joy at the sight in front of him. He has finally found it. 

Seungkwan’s cube is sitting in the snow, a thin layer of ice covering it. Chan hurries and scratches around the cube, freeing it from the ice and snow that held it in place. The metal is cold, and Chan puts on the gloves again, so as to not hurt his skin. 

“Did you find it?”

The flashlight blinds him, and Chan holds a hand up to cover his eyes. The other quickly lower the light and apologizes as he steps closer. 

“I found it,” confirms Chan and shows the teen a relieved smile. He hears a soft chuckle and gets pulled up by a firm grip around his hand.

“Follow me.”

Chan is too tired to argue. The only thing that matters is that he found the cube. He quickly walks after the teen, having to hurry to keep up with his long legs. The student holds the door open for him. The light inside the school building is providing Chan with a first clear look at his quiet helper. 

To say Chan is surprised would be an understatement. 

The student is most likely a senior. As he stands right in front of him, Chan notices the oval-shaped face, giving a soft visual at first, but turning to the side a very sharp jawline comes into view. His black hair curls slightly as it reaches down to his neck, the front of his fringe parted in the middle, gracefully styled and showing a part of his forehead. What catches Chan’s attention are the prominent eye bags. The student carries an expression that differs from seeming stoic and lightly arrogant to being downright unimpressed at everything that comes his way. The most striking feature, Chan notices, is how the older teen walks. Chan is impressed by how effortlessly he strides through the corridors as if currently showing off a new collection of designer brands. He wears a black long coat over his school uniform. A large golden safety pin is attached to the fabric at the height of his chest, with several thin golden chains hanging down from it. They are fixed a little further down on the coat, giving the clothing item an elegant twist. He also wore a scarf that compliments his long neck.

Chan looks down at himself. He is a bit embarrassed, walking next to the older in his soaked and dirty pants and a worn-out winter jacket. Walking next to the senior feels like a country kid is visiting his famous older brother in the city for the first time, who took some time off work to show him around. 

They walk up several stairs and along unfamiliar corridors. The older teen stops in front of a door that does not seem to belong to an actual classroom, leaving Chan wondering in which part of the building they currently are. The smell of tea embraces Chan as he steps into the room.

The room is surprisingly big with a high ceiling. Around two meters further from the door, a set of stairs lead to the middle of the room, giving it more depth and adding to the illusion of it being incredibly wide. The furniture and layout leave Chan questioning if he is still inside a school and not just walked into some billionaire son’s private atelier. A bit left from the door starts a small kitchen aisle. The mix between dark red and black gives it a sophisticated look, fitting the overall demeanor of the workshop, but Chan would never put a design like that into an actual living space. But it certainly fits into the eccentric style of the room. A wide range of cups and jars is neatly lined up behind shelves made of glass and metal. Chan sees several tea sets, some on the fancy and pompous side, others simple and down-to-earth. On the right side of the room are several workbenches pushed together, building the form of a U, creating a wide working space. Tools are scattered all over the place. Some lay on the floor, others on the couches, workbenches, and inside the shelves. There are metal shelves all over the right wall, holding a sea of art supplies. Colorsbuckets, lacquers, and even packages with different types of clay are stacked up to the ceiling. In front of the windows stands an easel with the picture facing outside. Drying canvases are carefully leaning against a free wall, a plastic sheet put under them to prevent paint from dripping on the floor.

“Minghao?”

“Yes, it’s me Jun.”

Chan had not noticed someone else in the room, too busy glancing around wide-eyed. He looks in the direction he heard the voice come from. A pair of legs and feet are resting against the heater at the other end of the room. The student named Jun is sitting in an expensive-looking gaming chair with the back of the chair turned towards the door. 

“Is green tea okay for you?”, asks the teen sitting in the chair. Chan is not sure if he has noticed Minghao bringing someone along.

“Green tea is a great choice,” answers Minghao.

Chan stands a little lost next to the door as Minghao takes off his scarf and coat and hangs it up at a hat rack that looks self-made. He holds his hand out towards Chan, and the younger teen needs a moment before he understands that Minghao meant for him to hand him his jacket. Chan quickly takes off the wet cloth and bows in the senior's direction, thanking him silently.

“No need to be so formal.”

Minghao gives him a little smile. Chan stops himself from bowing again and stammers another thank you instead. It earns him a chuckle from the taller teen. 

"Ahh, I lost again! To Soonyoung of all people!"

The chair turns around, and Jun stands up, frowning at his mobile. His and Chan's eyes meet, and the skinny teen freezes in front of his chair. Minghao walks past Chan, unbothered by Jun standing awkwardly in the room, and vanishes in some corner of the workshop. Jun slowly holds up a hand and waves, before taking it down again, looking as lost as Chan has felt a moment before sending Chan a shy smile.

"Hi. I'm Jun."

[inneedofsupervision]

Starstruck (Chapter 7 - The End)

Summary:

Waking up in a stranger's bed after one hell of a party was not how Chan had expected his morning to go. With only scrappy memories of last night, Chan tries to make sense of what had happened, unaware of the attention his actions of last night have gained him. (The GyuChanCheol fanfic nobody asked for but everyone wants)

Seventeen Fanfic - Pairing: Choi Seungcheol (S.Coups) / Kim Mingyu / Lee Chan (Dino)

College Life AU

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Read on Ao3

A dozen questions are thrown against his head when the door closes behind him, leaving Chan frozen at the entrance of Joshua's small living room. 

"Lee Chan, where the hell have you been?" 

Seungkwan looks worried from his place next to Joshua. Chan decided to ignore him for now, greeting Jun and Soonyoung instead. He sends the newcomers a little wave, which gets met with a bright smile on Soonyoung's side and a wave back from his Chinese roommate.

"Did you get robbed on your way?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Where's the cake?"

Several heads turn to Seokmin, who shrugs his shoulders at the glances.

"Aren't you curious about it, too?"

"I dropped it on the street. Sorry, Jeonghan."

He doesn't bother to sound apologetic. Jeonghan raises an eyebrow as he watches Chan collect his things calmly. 

"You dropped the cake? What about Jeonghan's mom's birthday?"

Seungkwan looks ready to slap Seokmin here and now, and while more than two people are about to shut the brown-haired man up with a pillow, Chan, and Jeonghan exchange glances. 

"Don't sweat it, Chan. She won't be too sad about it."

Chan huffs at the cunning grin playing on Jeonghan's lips. 

"I'm going home now."

"What?" Seungkwan asks, still holding the pillow against Seokmin's face while Joshua's holding the latter arms back, strangling him from his place on the couch. 

"How can you leave without giving us an explanation of what happened?"

"About me dropping a cake?"

He takes a step back when Seungkwan takes the pillow from Seokmin face and approaches him with a threatening look.

"Okay, okay. I'm telling you what happened. Now put that thing away." says Chan with a nervous chuckle, hands raised in surrender. Seungkwan pouts but hands the pillow back to Joshua. The latter looks at the cushion before glancing at Seokmin next to him and back at the cushion. Seokmin's eyes widen, and he hurries to get up from the couch, causing Joshua to chuckle. Chan doesn't know what's scarier, the sound of Joshua laughing or the angelic smile paired with the evil glint in his crescent-formed eyes. 

"You have been away for two hours. Have you not looked at your phone once? We tried to reach you. I was going to fill in a missing child report."

Seungkwan's scolding washes over him as Chan fumbles his cell phone out of his pocket. His eyes grew large at the number of messages and missed calls. 

"Sorry?"

A pillow hits his head. 

"We got worried." 

"Did you?"

Chan glances at Jeonghan, who winks at him with a satisfied smirk. Chan rolls his eyes, putting the pillow under his arm.

"I met Mingyu and Seungcheol outside," he says, sounding nonchalant as if it were no big deal.

"What?"

Seungkwan seems speechless, and Chan takes the opportunity to put the pillow behind his back. His precaution has been a good call as Seungkwan gapes at him for a second before he looks ready to throw something at him again, but this time there is excitement written all over his face. 

"You are only mentioning that now?" his best friend asks, sounding bewildered before he shakes his head.

"I was out for two hours, although the way to the cafe and back only takes twenty minutes, and oh, by the way, I met the two people I've been avoiding for days while I was outside, but no biggie."

"I don't talk like that," protests Chan, but Seungkwan's glare made him shut up quickly. 

"Spill. Now."

And so Chan tells his friend what happened inside the cafe. He might have left out one or two details, but his friends got a general idea of why he had been away for so long.

"Does that mean there wasn't any cake in the first place?"

It doesn't take two seconds before Joshua and Seungkwan try to make Seokmin shut up a second time that evening.

On their way back, Seungkwan presses for the details. His friend is scarily observant and noticed that Chan had not told them the hundred percent of the story. 

"I'm happy for you."

Seungkwan glances at him from the side, a small smile playing on his face as he notices the lightness in his best friend's steps. He does look genuinely pleased. 

Once they reach the apartment, Chan excuses himself, promising to help Seungkwan make dinner in half an hour. 

"Don't act all mature just because you managed to get your love life together, you punk. I'll call you when the food is ready."

"Aww, Seungkwan you are so nice."

Seungkwan pushes his face away with a laugh as Chan makes grabby hands and is about to hug his friend before he gets pushed into the direction of his room.

"Go before I change my mind, you dork," scolds Seungkwan but laughs when Chan sends him an air kiss.

Chan can't help but smile like an idiot. He tries to control his emotions he does. But the corner of his lips won't stop twitching as the man is still all about convincing himself to keep from doing a happy dance around the room. He has it under control for a few moments as he puts his cell phone away to lie down on his back. The feeling of arms wrapped around his waist and pulling him into a short hug is still vivid in his mind.

And his control flies out of the window.

A silly smile grows on his face at the memory of the tiny peck Seungcheol had given him before they said goodbye. The daring gleam in Seungcheol's eyes and fond smile still causes Chan's heart to stumble at the mere thought, and he buries his face into his pillow with a low groan. When Mingyu let go of him, the older man looked so endeared. At the sight of the brilliant grin, Chan promised himself that he would do everything to keep Mingyu this happy. 

He cannot help but kick his feet against the mattress as he remembers him stuttering a quick goodbye, redfaced at the attention of not one but two of his biggest crushes on him. Why do these two have to make him feel all giddy and lighthearted? But the happy smile doesn't leave, even when Chan hugs his duvet closer, hiding his face in embarrassment at the hot blush crawling over his skin. 

Chan still cannot believe it.

He is going to date the campus couple. 

[inneedofsupervision]

please write more irondad (only if you want too) you are so talented <3

I definitely want to, but I seriously need to finish a specific fanfic first before starting something else. But there will be iron das in the future, I just can't tell you exactly when it's going to happen.

[inneedofsupervision]

Hiragi is known for his kind but sometimes explosive behavior while also having a soft spot for the first and second years, which is known in the whole student body but never verbally pointed out. Despite his liking for the younger students, he cannot get out of his skin, getting stressed out over every new incident occurring, especially with the teens in class 1-1 and the group building around the head of the class, Sakura Haruka.

One day, he will spit blood cause of that knucklehead.

Imagine the third year's smugness when he finds out that specific first year, who had been stressing him out for weeks with all the havoc he causes despite doing the right thing, owns a weakness that's too easy not to exploit. Thanks to Sakura's classmates and friends, Hiragi witnesses an act so harmless but powerful in keeping Sakura from acting out or running off without using his brain, he couldn't help but use it against the teen.

"You're not going anywhere."

Sakura glares over his shoulder, eyeing the hand holding him by the back of his collar. Hiragi rolls his eyes at the expression he's receiving.

"Sugishita is handling it. We don't need more people running around."

"I'll be faster than him, let me go-ACK!"

Having enough, Hiragi pulls the younger, causing him to stumble and fall back into the older teen's chest. Using the moment of surprise, Hiragi hugs Sakura with one arm, holding him around his chest, causing Sakura to struggle to move his arms.

"Will you calm down?"

"I told you I can do it too. Just let me go-umpf!"

Raising an eyebrow, the blond glances down, lips twitching in amusement as Sakura glares up at him, both hands slapped over his mouth to keep the noises from escaping. Feeling provoked, Hiragi continued the action, tweaking the teen's side with his free hand. It is almost comical how a person with incredible body control and agility can crumble from tickling like a soft biscuit.

"If you're not listening to me after I let you go, I'll tell Umemiya about this little secret of yours, got it?"

Hiragi watches Sakura flush and pulls his jacket up to cover his ears, mumbling under his breath as the embarrassment washes over him.

If only Kaji would have been that easy to handle.