Hyeju was there when the world burned. She had been the one who lit the match, after all.
The flames were born as a tiny wisp crawling along the black soil and breathed, breathed, breathed as Hyeju shielded them from the wind and fed them dry brush.
Soon they blossomed into an inferno that licked at the sky. Everything was bright orange-red: a sunset with no sun; fruit juice and lipstick.
Fruit. Lips.
All of their belongings were burning in the Engineered Dual-Core Environment Node (E.D.E.N.), merely a melting gray mass in the inferno now, but the memories would remain.
Hyeju planned to live past them, though. No more pain. No more suffering. No more entrapment.
In the middle of the towering flames sat a revamped Lunar Module, shiny and eager, the get-away car like criminals always had in the movies she and Jiwoo used to watch in secret. Jiwoo had wanted to be a star – not like the ones in the night sky. She had wanted people to see her. She had wanted. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise when she escaped, too.
Even from inside the Module’s cabin, heat emanated through the thin exterior until the air felt like a warm hug. Like Sooyoung times a million.
Some memories should be flammable.
“Hyeju!” A voice hissed at her softly. “What are you doing, strap yourself in! We’re taking off in 60.”
She didn’t turn to look at Chaewon. “Just a second.”
Here it was: her get-away car with a pretty girl. It would’ve been better if the pretty girl hadn’t abandoned her for a year, but…
But still, Chaewon had stood up straight when Hyeju pushed at her, tears soft but speech steady against Hyeju's overripe anger. And she hadn’t stopped Hyeju from laying waste to the place they both used to call home. Instead she just watched, entranced and afraid, until she had to run to Hyeju and drag them both, smoke-dizzied, into the safety of the Module. Chaewon was an unforgivable angel, this rescue mission leaving her delicate white dress sullied with soot and dirt.
Often, while waiting for someone to find her, or for death – whichever came first – Hyeju had wondered why everything couldn’t go back to the way it had once been. The four of them together: doing what they were told (giggling after lights-out), following the strict training regimens (sneaking extra snacks), taking the effects of all the experiments on the chin (caring for each other). Why couldn’t everything have stayed that easy?
As she stares out through the round window the flames seem to dance at her, a beautiful goodbye party long overdue. Good riddance, she thinks, to the old world.
[FILL] sunset with no sun (goodnight)
Tags: scifi, inspired by loonaverse lore/visual media, yyxy, trauma bonded, trauma separated
Permission to Remix: Yes
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Hyeju was there when the world burned. She had been the one who lit the match, after all.
The flames were born as a tiny wisp crawling along the black soil and breathed, breathed, breathed as Hyeju shielded them from the wind and fed them dry brush.
Soon they blossomed into an inferno that licked at the sky. Everything was bright orange-red: a sunset with no sun; fruit juice and lipstick.
Fruit. Lips.
All of their belongings were burning in the Engineered Dual-Core Environment Node (E.D.E.N.), merely a melting gray mass in the inferno now, but the memories would remain.
Hyeju planned to live past them, though. No more pain. No more suffering. No more entrapment.
In the middle of the towering flames sat a revamped Lunar Module, shiny and eager, the get-away car like criminals always had in the movies she and Jiwoo used to watch in secret. Jiwoo had wanted to be a star – not like the ones in the night sky. She had wanted people to see her. She had wanted. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise when she escaped, too.
Even from inside the Module’s cabin, heat emanated through the thin exterior until the air felt like a warm hug. Like Sooyoung times a million.
Some memories should be flammable.
“Hyeju!” A voice hissed at her softly. “What are you doing, strap yourself in! We’re taking off in 60.”
She didn’t turn to look at Chaewon. “Just a second.”
Here it was: her get-away car with a pretty girl. It would’ve been better if the pretty girl hadn’t abandoned her for a year, but…
But still, Chaewon had stood up straight when Hyeju pushed at her, tears soft but speech steady against Hyeju's overripe anger. And she hadn’t stopped Hyeju from laying waste to the place they both used to call home. Instead she just watched, entranced and afraid, until she had to run to Hyeju and drag them both, smoke-dizzied, into the safety of the Module. Chaewon was an unforgivable angel, this rescue mission leaving her delicate white dress sullied with soot and dirt.
Often, while waiting for someone to find her, or for death – whichever came first – Hyeju had wondered why everything couldn’t go back to the way it had once been. The four of them together: doing what they were told (giggling after lights-out), following the strict training regimens (sneaking extra snacks), taking the effects of all the experiments on the chin (caring for each other). Why couldn’t everything have stayed that easy?
As she stares out through the round window the flames seem to dance at her, a beautiful goodbye party long overdue. Good riddance, she thinks, to the old world.
Goodnight, girls. May Eden keep you and hold you.
Goodnight, goodnight.
Goodnight.
Goodnight.