AN/ Quoi? I'm ALIVE? Why yes. Yes I am. I never did anything this summer, due to my falling out of my old fandom, and Pokemon coming out, so...I AM SO SORRY. I can feed you a Hetalia fic instead?
DISCLAIMER: HETALIA DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. YONG SOO FOR HELL DOES NOT. DAE JUNG IS MINE AND NEITHERWORLD'S, AND WE HAVE SHARED CUSTODY OF HIM. YOUR REPUBLIC IS CALLING YOU WAS A BOOK BY KIM YOUNG-HA.
This was the first time he had ever crossed this border, and hopefully, the last. None of the people in this small, select group had ever been to the south, past the 38th parallel before, and none of them, the group of the scared, fearful members of the Party had ever thought for a moment that they would end up there. Years and years of training hadn't prepared them for the feeling of sinking horror that they had when they had started to head to the non-existing 'invasion tunnels' which the government had tried to claim were coal mines when asked upon, and it was no shock that the most of the soldiers and spies in the group felt ten different shades of nervousness upon their bodies. A man known as Dae Jung swallowed slightly, and pushed back short, ragged black bangs that had plastered to the sides of his face and tucked them behind his ears. One of his hands started to play with his braid, the hair, even when tied back, easily hitting at his waist, and it would be longer, if he thought that it wouldn't get in the way of the mission at hand. This mentally made him want to scream, to hit someone, anything to end this silence that seemed to premate the walls of the tunnels, though he kept a blank look on his face, despite his body language saying that he was insane, he shouldn't' have done this, he needed to turn back around this very second and head straight back for his home in Pyongyang. After a moment, the hand stilled and the braid fell back behind him as his eyes hardened when he listened to the soldier in charge, saying the orders as quietly as could possibly be heard; the tunnels here echoed.
It was 2011, and, for the moment, there were no official wars between the two nations sharing the peninsula, other than the fact that neither nation had signed a treaty saying that the war between them, (Fatherland Liberation War in the North, and the Korean War in the South). There was tension that filled almost every aspect of the life that was held there; despite the fact the South was booming and thriving, the North was literally beginning to starve to death.
Though the darkness, the pitch black emptiness of the tunnels, they had made it to the first stop, a way station where they would all be smuggled into the South. The first thing that had hit them was the lights; after spending an immeasurable amount of time in the dark, the light burned at their eyes, the stinging sensation making Dae Jung's brown orbs water as he once more returned to playing with his braid while he listened to the leading officer. He had memorized his mission, to pose as a student of Seoul National University They each had something to do, to blend in, and recall information. They knew that a good spy blended in, became invisible, not like a fly on the wall, but like the child the adults at the dinner party ignore, or the janitor the students at school take for granted, all the while, unaware that someone was listening in on their conversations. And, for a moment, the thought thrilled the young man. He had been one of the best in his class; his accent near-flawless, and he was young enough to do what he needed. This was, in this case, to be enlisted as a student of Seoul National University, where he was to study political sciences.
Upon arrival, Dae Jung suddenly found himself lost in this large city. He didn't have the place memorized, and he felt like a tourist, or, as the thought occurred to him in a menacing manner, like a wolf in sheep's clothes, sticking out too clearly since, in his clean-cut appearance of slacks and a button-down shirt made him look too polite for everyone whom seemed to be in jeans and bright t-shirts. He swallowed and headed to the apartment building, getting his key from the landlord as he waited nervously, beginning to play with his braid as thoughts ran through his head. What if they could tell that his accent was wrong? What if they saw in his eyes he wasn't there to be like everyone else, that he was a spy, a wrong doer? But, after the landlord handed his key to him, and smiled, saying, "Alright, then. You're on the fifth floor, room six-B.", Dae Jung realized that the people of the South were like sheep. Believing anything that the sheepdogs, the government told them, that they were safe and fine, that they were going to be fine.
Dae Jung took the stairs up; it was late, about ten-thirty at night, and he wasn't ready to engage in a meeting with any of the people he'd be knowing for quite some time just yet… He opened the door, letting out a small, small smile as he didn't detect any trace of the North in this apartment he now owned under this name. Just the nice, usual place, with a kitchen and living room, no personality fixtures, but pre-furnished for him, and a bedroom, along with a bathroom. The bedroom had a desk, which he was glad for, with his textbooks that he supposed that he would need for school. A moment of fiddling with the desk later, he pulled out a manila envelope, which had a few things that might be beneficial. His class schedule, and enough money to pay the bills, and rent, along with groceries for at least two months, which was enough time to get a job, in his mind, and identification papers. He knew who he was now, and he sneered at the simplicity of it all.
Im Dae Jung at your service.
On the next day, Dae Jung decided to take a luxury he didn't have. According to his time-table, his first class didn't start until almost eleven, so he had slept in, more than happy to let himself to something like that. It was a simple pleasure, and after a shower and breakfast, he practiced his smile and a few phrases into the mirror. "Hello. I'm Im Dae Jung. I'm a freshman. It's nice to meet you." The words felt so wooden in his mouth, but he took them all with a glee he didn't know he had. The person in the mirror he almost didn't recognize didn't notice as he had braided his hair one last time, running outside. Campus hadn't been too far from the building, and he was more than ready to prepare himself for a long first day. After a moment of running though, he had retreated to the close inner sidewalk; the people were horrid drivers. The light had been green for the people on the walk to go across, and Heaven help you if you were half a second behind. The woman behind the wheel had almost gotten into a head-on collision with him, and had cursed at him when he didn't run away from her fast enough, it seemed. So, with books in hand, he looked at the university with wide eyes. He certainly hadn't been expecting this…
Dae Jung swallowed as he looked around. He knew he didn't need to stop by the main office, and hopefully, he wouldn't need a map as he navigated the halls, trying to find room sixteen-ten. The building seemed ten different shades of confusing; there were too many halls, and too many rooms, and everyone seemed to already know everybody, and he was ignored. That was the point of his job, yes, but he wished he was like some of the other freshmen, for a fleeting moment. What he wouldn't give to be able to grab somebody by the arm and ask for help to his first class. But, through a stroke of luck, or just good listening, he had heard someone ask for help, and he followed them, diving into the room and taking a seat.
The Korean class came first, much to his confusion. Dae Jung was next to positive that most, if not all of the students, spoke it with perfect fluency, though he certainly didn't understand the slang most used. (What on earth was Facebook, anyways?) Having swiped a paper that had been on the floor, he began to read that, taking mental notes for himself as he studied the headlines. There seemed to be nothing he could possibly report back to the homeland. Surely they knew most, if not all of this already? He honestly doubted that they wanted to know a headline about how the South was recovering from the flood; anyone who watched the news in either side of the border knew that already, and that was on the first page. The further back he went, the less and less sense these articles seemed to make, until the spy got to the point where he wanted to claw the eyes out of his head.
"Annyeonghaseyo, da ze!" A student next to him chirped, which made the spy almost jump, though he was too well trained to do something like that, of course. But, for a moment, Dae Jung couldn't help but stare at the male who had sat next to him.. They were near-perfect copies, like clones…Or twins. It was the same face, with the same brown eyes, though the person across from him seemed to have them somehow be sparkling in glee compared to Dae Jung's blank, almost empty gaze. Their hair was the same shade of black, though the other's was cropped short, just going a little past his chin, and it seemed to have a problem laying flat; he had a long, long curl that stood up, and seemed to have…Was that a face in it? It was similar to the spy's own, he noted, which only made the thing seem more and more eerie. Dae Jung swallowed as he replied, pulling the braid around onto his shoulder and he began to play with it, "A-Annyeonghaseyo..."
"It's really nice to meet you," The person chirped out as he kicked his feet, like he had no reason to stay still, even for a moment, since, when the feet stopped their movement, he began to tap a pencil. Dae Jung felt like there was a layer of him being peeled back, like an onion, as the man studied him, grinning as the pencil stopped moving. The spy took note of what the man was dressed in-bright, skintight purple jeans, and some band shirt that was half hidden by a highlighter pink sweater, which the sleeves when far, far past this student's hands, covering them. It pushed casual a bit too far, and it was a direct contrast to what the man from the North was wearing-work pants and another button up shirt in muted colors. The color explosion seemed to be the direct contrast, and it drew unwanted attention to him, simply from being near the other man.
He swallowed as his hands continued to fiddle with the braid, undoing the lower part and re-braiding it as he asked softly, nervously, still afraid he'd slip up and say the wrong thing, "Wh-who're you…?"
The man in the explosive and eye-vomiting colors blinked as he began to fiddle with his sleeves, picking at the slowly beginning to fray edges of them, pulling one long string out. He seemed confused by the question, but he beamed nonetheless and said, "Right! I'm Im Yong Soo! I'm an art student here, and a native to Seoul! Who the heck are you?"
The few words that this man, Yong Soo, had spouted out gave Dae Jung plenty of information on him, some quick and easy facts that would make it easier to get in his head. Yong Soo was about his age, possibly, if not most likely, a year or two younger, and the maturity levels between them would be glaringly obvious, if anyone looked at them, from their clothing to their behavior. And the spy knew he shouldn't judge but…if you're a male art student…You're either gay, or you're getting laid by every other girl in your class just about every night.
"Uhm…I-I'm Im Dae Jung…I'm from Daegang-ri..." His hands went and undid the entire braid as he hoped he had gotten the city close to the parallel correct, since that was supposed to cover any possible hits of an accent up, "I'm studying political sciences…"
"Poli-sci?" Yong Soo asked as he wrinkled his nose, laughing a bit, "Ew. That's really crusty, da ze!" He fluffed Dae Jung's hair, ignoring the spy's unhappy squeak; Dae Jung had never liked anybody touching his hair, and that just made Yong Soo's eyes glittered as he tackled Dae Jung out of chair, all but screaming, "GLOMP ATTACK!"
"Wh-what?" Dae Jung demanded as he squirmed and elbowed Yong Soo in the stomach, eyes widening in faux-terror as he reacted with a cold calmness that made him all but pin the other down. He hadn't liked the space invasion in the slightest. Dae Jung released Yong Soo, who laughed as Dae Jung flushed a bit; face getting an unfamiliar warm in it as it turned delicate shade of red.
"I glomped you, da ze," Yong Soo explained as he sat back in his chair, patting Dae Jung's head as he began to kick his feet once more, "I glomp cute people." Thankfully, he was quiet for a moment, before he turned back around. "Any ideas on when the professor shows up? I'm bored!"
His head shook as he began to try and re-read the paper, tuning out the art student as he bit his lip, trying to not blush again. Cute…? That began to distract him as he looked up when the teacher walked in, beginning the lecture in a dull voice. None of the students paid any attention to the man while Dae Jung planned several different ways to maim the person next to him; all Yong Soo did all block was send obnoxious notes to him, saying things like 'Hey, cutie, we need to hang out.', or, 'What's your home like?'. He gave up trying to learn, just trying to avoid the man annoying him.
Thankfully, his classes, with the exception of the awkward first Korean class had passed by in a complete blur to Dae Jung, and most of the other freshmen. The spy had blended in far too easily, like how things such as potted plants, or people like janitors did; everyone assuming they were just a part of the background that nobody needed to notice. Nobody looked twice at them, and Dae Jung had the intent to be the exact same way. He wasn't going to stick out. Just blend in, so every the people who called him friend would forget all about him, be surprised when he had seemingly vanished from 'nowhere'. So, it completely ruined the sense of invisibility when he got 'glomped' once more by the same annoying color vomiting person from his first class of the morning, who had only shrieked at the loudest possible volume, at the top of his lungs, "HEY, CUTIE!"
Dae Jung felt a headache coming on as he mentally thought "Lovely way to blow cover."
AN/ You know, reviews make me want to type more... And, unlike my other fics, I have a plot for this one -le gasp-