Edited: 1/12/18

birds of a feather flock together

people of a mind fall into the same group

The first time I met that boy, I'd been three.

It was snowing that day; the gardens a white tableau frozen in time.

I trudged through the beaten snow, leaving my footprints on the thickening frost, footprints so tiny from afar that it vaguely reminded me from that of an ant's that climbed atop a mount of crystalized sugar. The tracks marked my trail and this exposure meant that I was going to be found soon in a cold shriveling corner.

I awed at icy dew on frayed grass and the icicles on the edges of the roof, the way they just sparkle against the light. Everything else, I disregarded. The gardens didn't appear alive on my eyes, its breath wintry and shuddering as with slumber. The colors were too dull and lurid—shades of gray and white and black—like the ink wash paintings in Father's various art collections.

There was a quaint fragility in the washed-out scenery that I wasn't fond of. The cold took many a thing; the flora and my favorite cherry tree, which was twisted and brooding in a coat of rime and waning pale pink blossoms, its shadow wading on the pond.

I was wandering at the yard, nearly freezing despite the heavy articles of clothing wrapped around me. I blew a sigh on the tips of my reddening fingers, smiling a little from the forming puffs. I didn't want to go inside yet and I didn't remotely care that my nursemaids and parents spoke against it. I utterly disliked being cooped inside my bedchambers, more so than being out here in the cold.

Better I stayed here for awhile, just for some fresh air. I was going to be returned back there anyway.

So I waited. It's only a matter of time until my bodyguards caught wind of my disappearance.

As I swanned around, my eyes discovered a figure from afar.

From the looks of it, there was a boy hunched over the hawthorn bushes. He stood out in his overlarge servant's uniform and swarthy complexion in my periphery. Once I stepped closer, I peered at him from the deutzia shrubs. Lili was never near a boy before, much less close to her age bracket, which explained her puppy-like curiosity and her nescient preferences for older men.

Anyway, he was such a strange boy too. He was poking a caterpillar—a little plump thing that shouldn't survive a day in this clime—and the most peculiar thing was that he anticipated for its reaction. I was certain it was dead and the boy was none the wiser. Funny, the way his brows furrowed like that. Like there was something more going to happen.

It's that innocence I lacked in this toddler's body. He appeared older than I—six or seven? Somewhere there.

I closed myself near Caterpillar boy out of fascination and a little experiment. Glancing to his side, I did manage to rivet his attention. He ignored my presence at first, prodding on the curled insect on the branch, and after a few intervals later, he sent me a considering look, dark eyes inspecting me from the ruffle of my dress to my forehead. There's this blatant message in his gaze I could interpret as 'why are you here?', and from his appraisal, he really didn't seem to recognize me.

That wasn't the odd thing. It's the fact that I haven't met someone for so long without an initial spoken word.

We were awkwardly staring at each, like gawking another child for the first time.

He was the first to act, though. Plucking out the caterpillar from the branch, he flashed it to my face, coupled with a woooh sound from his lips, in a fruitless attempt to scare me. He looked like he was about to snicker though the impish amusement sucked out of his face upon witnessing this supposedly easily frightened girl give him an inquisitive brow and a reaction so boring that it was better off compared to a dead fish.

I wasn't impressed and so was he.

After giving the insect a shake—making me ponder if he believed it was still alive—he returned it back to its rightful branch. Standing before me in an arm's length distance, he poked my nose. "Long face."

I didn't know what came over me when I rubbed the spot he touched. It didn't even hurt. "Am not."

"See," Caterpillar boy smirked this time, a smirk that showed the gap in between his two front teeth. "Like this," he pulled down his face with his hands, mouth in a deep wrinkled frown as to provoke me in a poor excuse of an imitation of my so-called long face. He was obviously exaggerating, and my countenance was far more adorable than that.

He's just baiting, I counseled to myself. I crossed my arms in slight irritation while he jeered on.

Before I knew it, all reason and patience was lost in me, and I impetuously crouched down, spattering a handful of snow on him. This caught him by surprise. He immediately dropped his shenanigan, brushing away the white flakes on his dark hair. When his foot took one step forward, he sized me up from head to toe as if he was going to pick a fight.

It was from his stare alone, I could tell. This boy lived for his scuffles and bruises.

His mouth stretched wide into a toothy grin.

I instinctively took a step back. This didn't mean withdrawal for my part, a semblance of preparation, maybe.

Once the first snowball was fired, it was all a rough-and-tumble tussle between us.

I'd have some good shots and he'd have his. I aimed at his face and he went for my arms. A hit here, a bull's eye there. We were chasing each other recklessly. Of course, he had the advantage in this game, being faster and taller, which I did note bitterly in comparison to my short stubby legs. The dress didn't help either, and before I knew it, I tripped and landed on my chin, hurling down in a rustle of skirts and wild mop-like hair.

His fingers plucked my fallen hairpin from the snow; however instead of returning it back to me, he brandished it around like some trophy with a stupid cheeky smile on his mouth. It did come off as a bit immature and I was almost demanding an apology in my silent chagrin. Though I realized he was a child, just a boy—and boys weren't going to hold you by the hand and tell you they're sorry. They could be a little mean, a little daft, but maybe it was better that way.

Perhaps, it'd been because of his guiltless childishness or his lack of manners, I'm not sure. Having someone not curtsy and mumble a thousand apologies for their inferiority before me brought a pleasant feeling in my chest. I liked this jerk for that.

However that didn't mean the score was settled between us.

I grabbed him from the ankle and he came toppling down next to me in a hideous crash.

The hairpin remained lost in the snow and I started to not care about it. Caterpillar boy was silent for awhile until he flopped back, making snorting noises from the back of his throat. He was trembling and I found myself doing the same alongside him.

As we lay there on the frigid ground, we burst out in laughter.

Beaming, he rubbed the corner of his eye. "You're not bad, long face."

"You too," I humored him. "For a kid."

He gave me an accusing look but there was still an amused curve on his mouth. A gap in between his two front teeth. He wears a big smile, I observed. Funny, I think I'm getting used to it.

His eyes met mine; they were dark like charcoal and full of mischief. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I shrugged noncommittally.

"Hmph, whatever," he mumbled, hand raking his snow-covered hair. "Name's Haru by the way."

I blinked at him. Caterpillar boy was so forward for a normal Water tribe child. Introductions were usually first initiated with a coy question from my past observations. Regardless, I still preferred this informality between us and I couldn't help but contemplate if it would ruin it by saying my name. An Lili. The daughter of your master, Lili. Should I?

However, the exchange was set, and as much as it would bother me if he called me young mistress, he was eagerly waiting for a response.

I opened my mouth.

"Lady Lili."

From the utterance of my name, we both rose immediately from our positions, as if we were almost caught in the act of trouble-making.

Just a few feet away from us, my eyes spotted a head of flaxen hair. Se-hun, I absentmindedly thought. He drew himself closer with a placid expression, Dae-ho trailing behind him. I never truly understood how but there was always something so consoling in the air Se-hun had. He was amicable, and although I would have distinguished it for politeness, he'd been kinder to me than most.

Dae-ho noticed me shivering from the strong gust. Wordlessly, he unclasped his blue cape and draped it around my shoulders. It'd been heavy, but I appreciated the sentiment, savoring its warmth.

"There you are," spoke a woman behind us, who I did recognize as one of the servants from the palace. She was young, jaded almost, and from the look on her face, patently concerned. She rushed over to Haru's side.

Her hands cupped his face as she kept inspecting the scratches on his cheeks, in which he frustratingly attempted to pry away. "I was looking for you, you—" she wavered at the sight of me, and in an instant, she bowed to her waist, pushing the boy down with her through a hand on his back to imitate the curtsy. "If you could pardon my son, I raised him better but he comes out being dumb—"

Rolling his eyes, Haru muttered under his breath, "If I'm dumb, I must've got it from you."

"—and reckless," she finished, reprimanding him: "shut that runnin' mouth of yours, you twerp."

I whispered to Se-hun's ear to pardon them. "Lady Lili is fine," he spoke for me reassuringly. "There is no need for apologies."

They bowed respectfully once again. "We are grateful. If you could excuse us."

I nodded in acknowledgement.

From a measured distance, his mother dragged him along her stride, pinching his ear.

"Ow!" Haru whined, keeling. "Ma!"

"Don't you Ma me!"

Glancing down at me, Se-hun greeted me with his calm smile. "Did you make a new friend, Lady Lili?"

I wasn't certain so I meekly avoided the question.

Afar I could still hear his mother chiding him for not knowing his place, adding an insistent "you should have worn something warmer, you idiot!", and Haru, with just as much nerve as his mother, would utter aloud a wisecrack of his own, which only earned him an earful of berating. They were distant figures in the vast whiteness, bickering and huddled together. Something about that made my lips quirk. Made me nostalgic.

That was until my hands cupped my mouth and a giggle found its way passed my lips.

My bodyguards shared a look. More vocal of the two, Se-hun asked, "Lady Lili?"

I shook my head, the gesture dismissing. When I turned back, I remembered to grin just as wide and wild as his was.

I called out his name.

—

"—Haru?"

I found him impatiently peering at me from the latticed shutters, mouthing me to hurry up. I did what was necessary; waving him to leave, in which he replied with rolled eyes and a huff. I bit back a laugh as he stomped away. It was amusing to look at a grumpy Haru.

Honestly, it was the only fresh breath of air from the Long Room's—or what I labeled, the palace nursery's stifling environment. For the most part of the day, I was entertaining children, who had spent their evening in leisure and harmless sport. Mother expected me to interact in which I miserably obliged.

Dae-ho hadn't been around. I could notice Se-hun from the isolated corner of the room, appearing quite withdrawn himself.

For awhile now, I'd been toying with the string of my perfume pouch. The fragrance of spiced aniseed was my only tolerable companion.

Walking towards a familiar face, I asked, "Chan-mi, where is my mother?"

The maidservant regarded me with geniality. Chan-mi was Haru's mother after all. "Lady Han-byeol is hosting the guests at the Summer House."

The Summer House was a grand pavilion from the west of the keep; it was detached from the main palace, situated at the base of the man-made lake. I had always seen it from the west gardens, elevated alongside the weeping willows in a manner that made itself imposing and almost ethereal, connected back to the shore only through a long arching bridge painted in carmine. From that distance, the structure was beautiful with its high beams and slanted color-glazed roofs.

However the realization hit me that I had never been inside of it. It was a special building with a specific purpose to receive guests, though unlike the antechambers and tea houses, it'd been reserved for gentry. I was a daughter of noble birth but I hadn't reached fourteen years yet to be accepted within the peerage of the elite.

I frowned. To be reminded I was still a child did annoy me.

"I see," I nodded thoughtfully. "I would like to return back to my chambers."

"Of course, Lady Lili." Chan-mi dipped her head. "I shall fetch for your nursemaids."

As I was led out of the Long Room, I sighed in relief. But strolling through the corridors with my retinue, a lingering sentiment still crept at the back of my mind.

Lili didn't have friends.

She was far too closed off in a palace so large and grand—a castle made of clouds atop the high blue skies, and it's lonely.

Within my bedchambers, my nursemaids had fulfilled their tasks to attend to my needs; undressing me from my gown, bathing me, frocking me into my nightwear—it'd been the same pattern I had grown accustomed to in this extravagant life. Once I bid to be alone to rest, which I took note came with slight reluctance from my servants, they acceded to my wish.

Of course, when I was left to my own volition, I had every intention exploiting that.

Disrobing into the simpler clothes that I kept hidden beneath my bed, I felt the rough fabric slip on my skin. It did itch however what made up for it was that it counted as a decent disguise. Noticing the thread unravel from my pants, I recalled amusedly how I had to go through lengths just to scrounge for this outfit. From the mirror, I knew I couldn't pass for a boy but the illusion it gave when my long hair had been tied and tucked beneath my robes was better than I anticipated.

With a final confident glance, I sneaked through the hidden door behind my dresser. It was one of the many secret passages that the palace had installed decades ago on the off chance it may be used. In my case, this provided an opportunity for me to escape from my own room if need be. As I continued treading through the dark, the open pathway at the end greeted me with heat and smells of cooking fires and hot steam and smoke. Pushing aside the barrels that obstructed my exit, I stepped into one of the boiler rooms from the lower grounds.

A loud sigh resonated in the supposedly unoccupied room. "Took you long enough," Haru said tediously, sitting at a small stool near the furnace. There was a smudge of charcoal on his chin.

After placing back the barrels into their rightful stations, I patted the dust from my pants. "Let's make this quick before Dae-ho notices."

Haru snorted at my comment, lazily standing from his chair. He did always have little to no patience when it came to my meddling. Of course, I took advantage of the fact that he still forgave me for it. I smiled at him.

Shoulder-to-shoulder, we strode together.

"Hey, are you sure about this?"

"Hm?"

Haru unnecessarily specified: "Going outside."

My brow arched. "Yeah," I could feel my lips curl into a wry smile. "When were you ever worried before?"

"I'm not worried," Haru told me, scratching his cheek. "It's just that I don't want to get in trouble if you get lost or something like that."

"Nah, you won't," I waved my hand insouciantly. "I'll vouch for you," and then I sent him an assuring wink, which he rolled his eyes in response. "Did you tell your mother you're sneaking out again?"

"Nope," Haru said before pointing an accusing finger at me. "Stop mentioning my ma. You don't tell your parents anything."

"They're not supposed to know," I casually ignored his skeptical glare, running a hand through my sleeve. "C'mon, just show me outside," I nudged my elbow to his rib. It was a friendly jab.

Haru blew out a sigh, a soft whistle piping through his gap teeth. "Your friends must sure be a bore in there."

"They're not my friends," I corrected him. "They're timid. The others are snobs. Can't blame 'em. Those are the perils of the privileged."

"Privi—what?" Haru failed to pronounce. He'd always been clumsy in his speech. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I sent him a half-hearted shrug. "Just means you can do whatever you want if you're filthy rich."

Haru made an awed sound from his mouth. "Must be great," he grinned, almost dreamily. "Being rich and all. I'd like to be one when I'm older."

"Not really," I sighed under my breath. "That's purely subjective."

"Subje—what?"

"Oh nothing."

"Stop that fancy talk," Haru berated. "Can't understand a word you're sayin' sometimes."

I beamed at him. There was really something to love in his crudeness.

The day I step foot outside made me feel more alive than being behind the walls of Suiko Palace.

—

"What was that, Mother?"

Her elegant hands wove through my hair, her fingers pleating the locks into a braid. It was a habit of my mother's—and if my memory rung true, the only one which involved her partaking in dolling me up. There were always her handmaidens to beckon for dressing and serving me shaved ice desserts and candied fruits. She sat behind me with her billowing sleeves encircled around my frame. I sniffed. She'd always smelt like rosewater and lilacs.

Mother brushed a thick portion of my hair. "I thought that I may introduce you to Lady Yong-hi's son."

I tamped the urge to grimace at that. I wasn't in the appropriate age to meet a matchmaker—let alone, was I not properly introduced in society yet to socialize with young lordlings. Such a crucial matter wasn't a hindrance to my mother. She may as well be my matchmaker with the manner she orchestrates these play dates for me; spruced in a lavish gown and trained to be courteous and pleasing, it was an intentional set-up to meet my potential suitor.

For all her flamboyance and flippancy, Mother was a cunning woman.

Mother chuckled softly. "You must surely like him, sweetling," she pulled out a ribbon, knotting it on my hair. "He is a charming boy, so polite, and his smile is endearing. His very much like his mother, that boy."

Mother always shared her compliments to whomever that boy I was to receive—like that last one who had lovely eyes or that other one who'd been impressive with the bow. One of these days, I might just wear out from these proposals. Those children were almost intolerable.

"He's a prince, you know," Mother mentioned, which did surprise me. None of the noble children I'd met had been royalty, and from her ecstatic tone, I took note that she hadn't been exaggerating on this one.

Mother told me his name. For once in my life, I felt the strong urge to scream.

—

"Five days from now, take me anywhere," I deadpanned to an oblivious Haru. "Anywhere but here."

Haru had been picking leaves from the bush clovers, which I should have sooner scolded him for if I hadn't been so frustrated. The foliage of the gardens offered enough privacy for us to meet in secret. "Uh, Lili . . ." he started, confused. "I can't just take you anywhere. Not on that day. Besides my luck's out, Ma knows."

Understanding his predicament, I muttered, "Shit."

Unbothered of my cussing, Haru went along with it. "Right? Real shit," he waved his hands, kicking his heels back on the grass. Chan-mi was frightening when she was upset. "Anyway, what's this about? Is there something going to happen on that day?"

"Yes," I swallowed a breath, mumbling: "well, I'm . . . meeting someone."

"Ohhh, they're gonna marry you off, aren't ya?"

"No," I shook my head. "I just don't want to meet . . . that person."

His brows scrunched. "Hm? Is it a bully?" Haru asked, crossing his arms. "I could knock out his teeth if you want."

Unable to repress a smile, I almost snickered at that. "I doubt you could."

His chest puffed out in confidence and he was flaunting off his fisted hand, all fresh torn knuckles and chafed skin. Before questioning where he'd have attained his new scars, I found myself more concerned if he'd taken care of them properly—or worse, if they were infected. Haru always had this bad habit on spitting on his wounds—in a really poor attempt to appear cool—without cleaning them. I mentally noted to myself to inform his mother about this matter.

Grinning from ear to ear, Haru declared arrogantly, "I have the Fist of Fury, 'course I could."

I was more surprised that he knew what fury meant than the actual make-believe technique. Good for Haru.

"Sure you do," I humored him wryly. "No, he's not a bully."

Haru cocked a brow. "Pansy then?"

"Dunno."

"Is it even a boy?"

"You're just asking that after referring to him as a he?"

Haru shrugged. "I assumed."

I sighed, folding my arms to my chest. "Well, you assumed correctly."

"Oh," and then his expression lit up like a lantern, elucidated, and when those round wide eyes locked onto mine, I had the faintest suspicion that he had mistaken me for the wrong impression. "Oh. I see, you like him, don't you? That's got you all bothered," Haru speculated in a telling tone—deriving that bit of knowledge from his own mother, who'd had her own share of experiences—and with that realization, his brows scrunched together and he appeared rather vexed.

Ironically, I should be the one wearing that look. Really, this boy.

His hand scratched the back of his head; a gesture of open annoyance and refusal. "Hey, just so you know, I won't deal with your girl problems. That's not my style," Haru stated out bluntly. "Ma's a handful already in the yappin'."

I scoffed. "I don't like him. No, actually, I don't know him," it was half a lie and half the truth, and with all this insincerity I'd been upholding to him, I consoled myself through musing that there were such matters that should be kept for the best. As much as I believed that he wouldn't truly grasp this situation of mine, I overestimated my will to maintain the façade of Lili from this boy, who'd been nothing more but an honest confidant of mine.

He'd been a good friend after all. For all my justifications, that pinch of guilt remained, reminded, and remembered.

In compensation, I admitted to him, "I just don't want to meet him."

We're not supposed to meet this early.

His dark eyes flashed me a quizzical stare. "Why don't you want to meet him?"

My lips pursed. "I just don't."

—

On that fateful day I hadn't met Soo-won.

From the missive Mother received, Lady Yong-hi had caught a fever on the occasion thus making our encounter postponed.

I, however, anticipated for it to never come.

Exposition Corner:

Lili's Status: In her case, being a child of a nobleman doesn't exactly classify you as a part of the aristocracy with an exception to members of the royal family.

Since children of noble houses rely on their parents, they are instead being trained and educated in preparation for it before their traditional coming-of-age ceremony (which I will explain soon), where they are to be properly introduced to society and acknowledged for their status as a lady or lord of their representative house. This is a custom required to be done for children in the age fourteen.

Due to this reason, children don't always actively participate in formal gatherings, except when ceremonies and festivities are involved. However this doesn't limit bringing children to house visits when invited by a family member or a friend. It's not uncommon for parents to set-up "play dates" in meeting up children for the possibility of a potential match, especially when it still lies within the borders of propriety.

(I know I owe you all an explanation about how marriage works here but I'll elaborate it on future chapters.)

A/N: First of all, apologies for the delay! RL got in the way again. Since I rushed this, I will edit this out later. Also, I slightly revised and added some things in the last chapter, but they're just small changes.

So, basically Soo-won isn't going to appear yet (for now). Actually, this specific chapter is just supposed to be written for Han-byeol and Lili but Haru came barging in and stealing the spotlight. Next chapter, I mean it, it'll be about Lili's relationship with her mother.

By the way, I find it interesting that each tribe should have their specific culture and etiquette. Once again, I'm practically guilty for adding things to canon, but I do love some diversity, and well, it's really intriguing. For particular personality types, I'm basing the tribes from birthday elements from Western astrology (air, earth, water, fire), mixed in with Chinese astrology (wood, metal, water, fire, earth—wood being the Wind tribe and metal being the Sky tribe).

Fun fact: My inspiration for Haru was from a boy I did actually meet when I was younger. He was playing with the caterpillars from the neighbor's bushes and I happened to meet him when I went to him—everything after that was almost nothing, really. No epic snowball fight for me.

Aaand, a big thank you for those who support this story!