Night Kiss

by E. T. Malinowski

  Soon-joon took hold of the proffered wrist. “Stubborn Fox,” he muttered.

  “Yes,” Hyun-jo hissed, his head falling back, his eyes going half-lidded as Soon-joon wrapped an arm around his hips and sank his fangs into his wrist, drinking deep.

  In all his centuries, never had anyone tasted as sweet as Hyun-jo. No one had satisfied his hunger as thoroughly as Hyun-jo. No one had sacrificed more for him. He could feel Hyun-jo digging his claws into his skin, piercing through his coat, vest, and shirt to draw blood. He could feel the fine trembling of Hyun-jo’s body as he tried not to move. Oh, how he tortured his sweet Kitsune.

  Soon-joon yanked his head away, then quickly licked the wounds, cleaning the pale flesh as he did so. When he looked up, he could read the hurt and resignation in Hyun-jo’s eyes, and it stabbed through his heart. Without a word Hyun-jo straightened his clothes and donned his suit coat, his hair back to its short cut, ears gone, and his tails hidden. The last to change were his eyes. They glowed lavender for a few more moments. He bowed low and walked out of the room, passing ChenBao on his way. Soon-joon wished his hearing weren’t so keen. Then he wouldn’t have heard the stifled sob and the quickening of Hyun-jo’s feet.

  “When are you going to make an honest Fox of him?” ChenBao demanded, hands on her hips. “Really, Táozi-chan, this is too much. He loves you beyond all things, and yet you still push him away, refusing to accept the love he offers you. It is mind-numbingly stupid.”

  “How can I take advantage of his devotion when he has lost so much because of me?”

  “He didn’t lose anything he wasn’t willing to!” ChenBao said, throwing her hands up.

  “His clan, his family, his position, all these things—Hyun-jo should have nine tails by now,” Soon-joon said. “He should be immortal.”

  “Táozi-chan, if that was what Hyun-jo-chan wanted, do you think anything would have kept him from achieving his goals?” she asked as she sat on the corner of his desk. “He is steadfast, loyal, totally devoted to you. Whatever you want or need, he provides. He receives little in return, and yet he remains. How many centuries must pass before you realize he will have no other and will never leave you?”

  Jong-in

  JONG-IN TILTED his head back against the building, eyes closed, letting the song play through his head. It had been a long day. After he left BLE, he went to his part-time job. When his hours there were done, he went to the campus to work on several other school projects. He got home at about two in the morning but wasn’t able to sleep, so he laid the beat track for his scholarship entry. Now he was trying to work the melody. He made another notation on the sides of the sheet music.

  The door banged open, startling him, and Jong-in looked to see who had found his little hideaway. The man looked vaguely familiar, and Jong-in figured he must have seen him around the building. He was about to turn back to his work when the soft sob grabbed his attention. He tilted his head, curious. Had he stumbled on someone else’s little haven? The man, at least he thought it was a man, wiped at his face.

  “Are you okay?” Jong-in asked.

  The man whipped around to face him, and Jong-in was struck by how beautiful he was. He didn’t compare to HanYin, but he was damned close. Immediately the man looked away, hastily wiping away any evidence of his tears. Then he looked at Jong-in and gave a bow.

  “Gomen nasai, I did not mean to disturb you. I did not know anyone was here.” His voice was soft, lyrical, and Jong-in could hear the sadness in it.

  “It’s no trouble,” Jong-in said. “I’m Bak Jong-in.”

  “Rhim Hyun-jo. It is a pleasure to formerly meet you, Bak Jong-in dongsaeng,” Hyun-jo said. “I am Soon-joon-nim’s personal assistant.”

  “You must be very busy, then. He always seems to be on the move,” Jong-in said with a smile. Something caught his attention, a scent on the breeze. He tilted his head, distracted by the smell.

  “He does keep me very active.” He paused. “I had not thought to meet another of my kind outside of Japan,” Hyun-jo said softly, drawing Jong-in’s attention instantly. When he looked at him, Hyun-jo’s eyes flashed lavender.

  “You… you’re… like me?”

  “I am,” Hyun-jo said, his smile gentle and welcoming. “You seem surprised. You did not sense me in the area?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Jong-in blushed. “Honestly I have no clue what I’m doing in that regard. It just sort of… overtakes me. Sometimes.”

  “Let me ask you this since there is no one nearby. How many tails?”

  “Two.”

  “Two for one so young? Impressive,” Hyun-jo said.

  “But what does that mean? And what am I?” Jong-in asked, hearing the desperation in his own voice.

  “We are Kitsune, Fox-Spirits,” Hyun-jo said.

  “HanYin was right,” Jong-in murmured.

  “He is a very intuitive man,” Hyun-jo said as he moved to stand next to Jong-in. “The number of tails indicates our power and wisdom, how close we are to Celestial status and true immorality. Also it is a measure of our age.”

  “May I ask?”

  “Seven,” Hyun-jo said with a smile. “You have been alone for a long time, haven’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Hyun-jo reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card. He handed it to Jong-in, who took it with both hands. “This is both my business and personal phone numbers. While extremely rare, it is not unheard of for a young Kitsune to have more than one tail. However, the level of spiritual energy can be hard to control. Indeed, it can be overwhelming to the point of making it difficult to control your form when in a high emotional state. If you feel this way, call me, and I will help you.”

  “Why?” Jong-in looked from him to the card and back again. “Why would you help me?”

  “You are young and alone, with no mentor to guide you, as is tradition,” Hyun-jo said. “Perhaps I am old-fashioned, but I believe it is the duty of the elders to teach the young, to help them understand the way, and to keep them safe until they have mastered their current energies.”

  “Oh.”

  “And you matter to HanYin dongsaeng. He is special to me as well, and so you are special too. For now I must depart, but we will speak again, Jong-in dongsaeng.” Hyun-jo gave him a small smile. He turned to go, but Jong-in stopped him.

  “Wait.” When he turned back around, Jong-in had to ask. “Why were you crying?”

  “The only thing worth crying for,” Hyun-jo said as he reached out and caressed Jong-in’s cheek. “Love.”

  And then he walked away. Jong-in watched him go, elated and saddened by the exchange. He’d never expected his life to change so much by winning a scholarship. The opportunities being presented at BLE were amazing. Even more amazing to him was HanYin. It still terrified him, and a part of him still wanted to hide away from it, to deny how he felt about HanYin, how much he wanted him. That part of him kept expecting to be pushed away. It had taken so much effort to show HanYin what he was without knowing exactly what that was, to expose himself like that. He had fully expected to be rejected. That HanYin accepted it so easily, still wanted to be with him, was such a gift.

  And now this, someone like him: a Fox-Spirit. He hadn’t put much thought into HanYin’s words. He’d been too busy to think beyond the moment. There was so much on his plate, and he was trying to balance it all. Jong-in felt if he added one more thing, it would all come crashing down around him.

  He was drawn from his thoughts by the vibration of his phone. He glanced down to see his timer. He had to go back to work now. Cho-ree had made him take a break, although Jong-in tried to resist. It hadn’t worked, but he at least made the effort. He pulled open the door just as a text message sounded, and he smiled. When HanYin had called him the first time, he’d saved the contact and made a customized tone for his messages. The chorus to “Heat” echoed in the stairwell, and Jong-in hurried to turn the sound down.

  HanYin: Where are you?
I brought you lunch.

  I just finished my break, heading back to the studio. What did you bring?

  HanYin: Steamed dumplings. Hurry before Ki-tae smells them!

  Jong-in laughed and jogged quickly down the stairs. He wasn’t sure if Ki-tae was in the building today, but he wasn’t going to risk HanYin’s dumplings.

  On my way. Guard them!

  HanYin: LOL

  FIVE BILLION won; that should be sufficient. It wasn’t about the money, anyway. That would be just a little bonus. He needed to learn his lesson. Clearly he wasn’t paying attention. Now it would have to be taken to the next level. Blood would have to be spilled, and it would continue until he learned and obeyed and never turned away again.

  Ki-tae

  “SEUNG-GI HYUNG!” Ki-tae called as he walked into the lobby. He pulled Seung-gi into a hug before setting him back on his feet, holding his shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see Soon-joon-nim,” Seung-gi said, smiling. “I have the initial layouts for Eumak Nabi Theater for him. Are you just getting your lazy butt into work?”

  “Actually I went straight to an interview and then came here,” Ki-tae said. “Eumak Nabi, huh? I like that hall. It doesn’t have the capacity of the Olympic Stadium, but it still has a decent feel to it. Acoustics are really good too.”

  “They’re easier to work with.” Seung-gi paused, and Ki-tae turned to see what caught his attention, smiling when he saw Jin-woo walking toward the elevators, his nose in his notebook. “Hey, isn’t that…?”

  Ki-tae nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “What have I missed?” Seung-gi demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “A lot. Let’s catch the elevator, and I’ll formally introduce you.” Ki-tae laughed, and then he jogged toward the elevator, calling out to Jin-woo. The smile he received made him almost giddy. He got into the elevator and motioned Seung-gi to hurry up. Seung-gi gave him the usual look. He only hurried when he had to, and this wasn’t one of those times.

  “Did you finish your interview already?” Jin-woo asked as Seung-gi finally made it to the elevator.

  “It wasn’t a long spot,” Ki-tae said. “At this point I could probably do these in my sleep. They all seem to ask the same questions.” He gestured to Seung-gi and said, “This is Byun Seung-gi hyung. He’s our stage manager. His job is to coordinate with the venue to make sure our marks are set, they have the right lighting, and everything is micced properly. Seung-gi hyung, this is Cheong Jin-woo.”

  “I also have the daunting task of keeping the artists safe, healthy, and focused while on tour. Some make my job more challenging than others. It’s nice to meet you,” Seung-gi said with a smile.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Jin-woo said with a small bow.

  “There, now you two have officially met.” Ki-tae chuckled.

  “Officially?” Jin-woo asked.

  “Ki-tae dongsaeng often thinks he’s cute when he’s just being annoying.” Seung-gi sighed. “I arranged for you to be transported home from the last concert and checked that you were okay the next day.”

  “Seung-gi hyung is like Shin-bai hyung in that he’s been with us awhile,” Ki-tae said. “And I am cute.”

  “And annoying,” Jin-woo huffed.

  “It’s part of my charm.” Ki-tae grinned before stealing a kiss.

  “Idiot,” Jin-woo muttered, but his smile ruined it. “Behave yourself today.”

  “I make no promises.” Ki-tae laughed as Jin-woo stepped off the elevator. When he looked back, Ki-tae licked his lips, and instantly he narrowed his eyes. Ki-tae winked as the doors closed, but he caught Jin-woo’s growl.

  “You like him a lot,” Seung-gi said.

  “It’s a bit complicated, but yes, I do like him,” Ki-tae said. “This is my floor. Meetings upon meetings upon meetings today. Are you going to be around for a while?”

  “I’ll be in and out over the next several days. The concert isn’t the only project I’m working on at the moment,” Seung-gi said. “I went right from your last show to another artist. It’s been pretty steady for me this last month.”

  “You love every minute of it,” Ki-tae said.

  “I do,” Seung-gi said with a smile. “But I haven’t gotten a chance to spend as much time with my niece as I’d like. She’s working really hard at university, and I like to take her out, give her a break every now and again.”

  “Bring her to the concert, then. It’s right before the spring festival, so it’s the perfect time,” Ki-tae said. “Everyone loves Dano.”

  “I’ll see if I can pull her out of her room long enough,” Seung-gi said. “She has so many projects to do she’s barely taking time to eat or sleep. Her mom only sees her for one or two meals a day.”

  “Sounds like she’s very dedicated.”

  “She is.” Seung-gi smiled. “I’m so proud of her.”

  “You sound like a father.” Ki-tae chuckled.

  “My brother and I were very close. It’s only right that I take care of his family. And my niece, she’s the sweetest girl in the world,” Seung-gi said.

  “I’m sure she is.” Ki-tae clapped him on the shoulder and then stepped off the elevator. “Have a good day.”

  “You too, Ki-tae hyung. Behave!”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “No!” Seung-gi said with a laugh as the doors closed.

  Ki-tae met up with Cheongul and HanYin in one of the many small conference rooms. He gave Cheongul’s pointed look at his watch the attention it deserved, which was none. He wasn’t more than five minutes late. HanYin tossed him a bottle of water as he nibbled on a stick of Pocky. Once he was situated, Ki-tae pulled his tablet out of his bag and opened their song files. Each of them had a list of all the songs they’d ever recorded and performed.

  “Right, so we already know we’re doing ‘Crossing Time,’” Cheongul began. “I think we should save that one until the intermission, sort of build up to it.”

  “I’d like to do ‘Call the Dragon’ and ‘Heat,’” HanYin said.

  “Do we want to do ‘Master’?” Ki-tae asked as he looked at Cheongul.

  “It was one of our chart-toppers,” he said. “I don’t see why not. What about ‘Phoenix Rising’?”

  “I can dust that one off.” Ki-tae chuckled. “How many songs do we want to perform?”

  “They want it to go for about two hours,” HanYin said, checking the email they’d received. “We’ve got five songs now. Each song, if we perform the whole thing, is about three to four minutes long. We’re looking at close to thirty songs altogether. If we space them out and get the crowd worked up in between, we can maybe pare it down to twenty-five.”

  “That’s not the usual format, HanYin,” Kit-ae pointed out. “We’d be singing almost nonstop.”

  “We could do a few instrumentals, a couple of dance numbers,” Cheongul said. “That would give our voices a bit of a break.”

  “We could do it all,” HanYin said.

  Ki-tae could see the excitement in his eyes at the idea of doing something different. “If we still do Ments and VCRs, we’re looking at about three hours. That’s a long time to sit.”

  “It would make it an atypical concert,” HanYin pointed out. “We keep to the regular format every other time we perform. This would make it something extra special for our home fans, give them a little something extra along with all the stuff they expect.”

  All three of them turned as the door opened and Soon-joon walked in. “I see you three are hard at work. How is the song list coming?”

  “We’ve only been here for about five minutes,” Ki-tae said. “Pushy much?”

  Soon-joon shot him a look, but Ki-tae just grinned at him, completely unrepentant. Soon-joon shook his head with a smile and turned to the others. “I’m glad you’re all together. I wanted to let you know we’ve received the second notice from our… industrious videographer.”

  “So? What is he demanding?” Cheongul asked.


  “Five billion won to be delivered by Ki-tae alone.”

  “Wow, someone is certainly bold,” Ki-tae said.

  “Definitely,” Soon-joon said softly. “What concerns me is the demand that you deliver it. I believe the money is an afterthought. This isn’t about getting rich. It’s about getting Ki-tae.”

  “That is not going to happen,” HanYin said quietly.

  “No, it is most definitely not,” Soon-joon agreed.

  “I don’t want you three putting yourselves in danger for me,” Ki-tae said.

  “You’re our brother,” Cheongul said. “Family protects each other.”

  “I know,” Ki-tae sighed. Soon-joon laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and gave him a small smile. “I think that just effectively killed my good mood.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, Abeoji,” Ki-tae said. “It’s part of this life. Sometimes there’s some people who get too fixated on us. We’ve dealt with it before, and we’ll deal with it again. It’s human nature.”

  “It is an unpleasant aspect of human nature.”

  “But we’ve all experienced it,” Cheongul said.

  “This is getting morose,” HanYin said. “We’re not going to let this person ruin things for us. We’re going to plan our concert, so let’s get back to the song list. We’ve got a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in.”

  “He’s right,” Ki-tae said.

  Soon-joon took a seat at the table. Cheongul showed him the songs they had already chosen. The four of them settled into an easy discussion of what the performance would be like. By the end of an hour, they had twenty-five to thirty songs set for the performance. They hugged Soon-joon before leaving the room and heading down to the wardrobe department to meet with their stylist. When they arrived, LeiChen was already there, reigning over his assistants with true flair. He had several racks of clothing arranged in a semicircle. To the right was a three-way mirror, and to the left were individual dressing rooms. Three armchairs sat across from the racks. Set between them were two small tables, each holding water bottles.