Moon Theory [BL]

Colonel Yang rolls the window back up. Residue blood smears on the outside glass, even more unsightly as it streaks upward in motion. The vehicle’s windshield is not any cleaner – patches of dark red, a rough claw mark embedded in the corner, the glass dangerously close to breaking apart.

“All clear, Colonel!” Li Jiayun reports as she handles the two smaller cougars on her side. She had sustained no injuries, though she seems a bit frazzled by the sudden engage. Her partner Jae had swapped the binoculars for a handgun, and the two of them worked in tandem to down the feline cubs.

“Did you double-check?” Yang Rong asks as he inspects the corpses. “I don’t want those coming back to life.”

“Well… no, but it’s not very likely,” Jae says though he does the same. He peeks out the window carefully, just enough for him to take a quick glance. The sight is morbid – one cougar turned headless and the other rendered almost the same, its neck hanging on by a thin piece of flesh. Its fur is dyed in black mud and pierced with shrapnel, some bits of organ splattered onto its body and dripped down to the ground. “The cougars don’t seem very radioactive to me. They’re only slightly bigger than the average.”

“—They are not the same,” someone speaks softly in the back. Ming Tang, long neglected, opens his mouth to make a point. He points at the belly of the fallen animal. “Felis concolor – they usually have white stomachs and white fur on their necks. These are dark brown. They have an abnormal pigment, probably developed from cell radiation. Another indication is the long black stripe on their faces which is formed in the early embryotic stages.”

Colonel Yang looks at him with a mix of surprise and awe. “Are you kids so smart nowadays?”

“I have studied some matters of biology and chemical engineering.”

“At age ten?”

“I took interest since age six,” Ming Tang replies though his tone is more deadpan and less braggy. “But there are only so many resources available to me.”

Noah, repositioning himself on the shotgun seat, curves his lips slightly. He’d always thought Ming Tang was one of the most intelligent children he’d been acquainted with. The latter can absorb scholar-level text in a matter of hours, can piece together aero-science in two days, and can likely write an entire thesis on radiation and cell degradation if given a week. It’s unfortunate he hadn’t the chances to expand that talent beyond pen and paper, beyond the confines of that concrete home.

One thing’s for sure, and that is that Ming Tang is smarter than the colonel.

“—What are you laughing at, Noah?” Yang Rong doesn’t miss the slightest quirk in his expression. Belatedly, Noah thinks the man stares at him too suspiciously much.

“Hmm?” Noah drawls it out. “Just thinking that if you get scratched by that non-radioactive cougar, the aftereffects would be interesting to see.”

“…What aftereffects are you imagining?”

“For example, internal hemorrhaging, the rupturing of your vessels…” Noah sends him a smirk through the rearview mirror. His eyes curve into crescents, illuminated by refraction, settling prettily in the dark. Though his face is pale enough to glow, he still plays up coquettishness all too well. “Then maybe you’d morph to have cougar characteristics – I think such a beast would be suitable for you.”

“A big cat?” Yang Rong smirks as well, matching him in kind. “Why? Are you saying you want me in your family tree?”

“I said I’m not a cat.”

Yang Rong’s face glints in mischief – he knows he’s won the trivial banter, and he’s keen on rolling with it to the fullest. The colonel props a hand on his chin and says, “You’ve never clarified what you are, so until then, you’re stuck as the honorary ‘little kitten.’ Doesn’t the nickname suit you just fine?”

“…” Noah doesn’t want to speak anymore. He lets out a low noise of dissatisfaction and then slaps open the storage compartment, decisively throwing the rifle back inside – he makes a mental note to apologize to Yoo Seok later. Such an expensive-looking, obsidian gun handled without care. Noah is thankful the latter is still focused on driving. With a soft sigh, he closes his eyes to rest.

Nobody tells him off.

Noah is prone to drifting off, but not in unfamiliar vehicles, not around unfamiliar people, never around city soldiers who are all kinds of infamous – he’d overheard gangrape stories from omega victims, he’d seen how some platoons handle their loot, as they call it. Noah himself has a rather personal vendetta against soldiers, city policemen, those of authority in such an alpha-dominated social structure.

He still thinks he’s shackled here, thrown inside this particular vehicle with two alphas, none of them he’s fit enough to fight off and one of them who irrevocably, infuriatingly drives him up the wall. Yang Rong probably does it on purpose too – Noah is aware of those dark green eyes drilling into the back of his seat even when he’s half-asleep and sedated with drugs.

Yet, he finds himself cozily listening to the engine throttles, the rattles of aluminum against car panels. Then the howls from outside, too, are filtered as gentle whirrs.

As midnight peaks, the outside is even more wild – wind snapping pass trees, rough growls and insidious snarls. Predators gather from miles afar. And… Noah had gone insane enough to enjoy such horrendous company inside a confined vehicle.

There are whispers coming from Yoo Seok to the left. The man is considerately lowering his voice for Noah, speaking to the colonel about their next plan of action. Something about safety gear, emergency diving equipment, oxygen tanks – “any quality concerns?” – and then more on the topic of wetsuits – “how many were distributed?”

“Not many,” Yang Rong can be heard replying. “Which means we’re not doing any diving tonight, lest any of you wants to commit suicide.”

“Not I,” Jae chimes in. He’s eating a biscuit – Noah can tell by the loud crunches because nothing can be as teeth-grinding as military hardtack. The crumbs even make little sounds as they drop onto the car mat, mixing with the pitter-patters of rain.

If he were more awake, perhaps he would have caught the first drops of rainfall dotting the windshield. The wiper sweeps occasionally, making a half-squeaking, half-grunting noise that’s especially jarring to his ears.

“I’m also too handsome to experience such tragedy – if I were to die, it’d have to be a valiant fall surrounded by gunfire.” Yang Rong says a bit of nonsense as per usual. “So none of you fuck up else I’m leaving you. You got it, little boy?”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Ming Tang says. “I won’t ask for your assistance.”

“Ah, but you are indirectly asking us to take you to the city free of charge.”

“You agreed.”

“I did,” Yang Rong hums. “I believed there was a… tacit negotiation of sorts.”

“Negotiation?”

“Hm—if you stayed with us, the little kitten wouldn’t run off as eagerly.” Even without being able to see him, Noah can clearly visualize the smirk on the colonel’s face – one corner of his mouth would be curved a few degrees upward, laidback and frivolous. “Isn’t that right, Noah? I think I’ve done well to take in this child you’re so fond of.”

Noah doesn’t respond. He doesn’t give much of a reaction, really, merely dozing off to the sound of rain and wind.

Ming Tang, however, chooses to speak up. “Noah isn’t fond of me.”

At that, he does open one eye. He can see from the mirror that Ming Tang’s head is bowed low, not out of dejection but of nonchalance – the boy is, as usual, very unexpressive. Noah’s emotions emerge through cracks on his façade, but as for Ming Tang…

The child is more empty than he.

Yang Rong peers over, shifting his focus from the boy to Noah to back. “Hmm? Doesn’t seem that way to me. Aren’t you two close?”

“We’re not close,” the boy says as he plays absentmindedly with a pair of binoculars. He taps experimentally on the lens as if testing the material. “I’ve barely known Noah for a year and in the few days he spends with us out of each week, we hadn’t spoken more than a few lines to each other.”

“Hm…” Yang Rong rubs his index finger on the jut of his lower lip, assuming a thinking posture. He peers at the young boy who still continues to play with the equipment. “So you really aren’t close.”

“I think Noah is kind to everyone.”

“It is a bit odd…” the colonel muses. “I admit your little Noah is quite a sentimental person, though your narrative doesn’t match with mine. My first meeting with him, after all, was incredibly memorable. He’s really one of the most aggressive strays I’ve seen.”

Ming Tang looks at him then. “Perhaps it is because you refer to him by such pointless nicknames that he holds little regard for you.”

“…” The colonel promptly shuts up. He ponders for a good five seconds before he opens that loudmouth of his and says, loud enough for the eavesdropping Noah to hear, “Then he can give me a nickname too. Why don’t you try one out, Noah, since we’re so familiar with each other now? I’d still prefer to be called ‘Rong-ge’ or ‘Rong-Rong’ unless you have a better alternative. How about you try something cuter like ‘gege’ or—"

“—Alright,” Noah unexpectedly replies as he leans back on his seat. “Idiot.”

“…” Yang Rong blinks slowly. “Excuse me, Noah, but have I done anything to wrong you lately?”

“What do you think?”

“Didn’t I help you exterminate that roach in the bathroom?” The colonel rubs the back of his head, looking genuinely confused. “I even enabled your drug addiction. Shouldn’t you be thanking me instead? Aren’t we close enough to be sworn comrades by now?”

Noah turns toward him, his expression cold. “You kidnapped me, knocked me out, hit my ribs so hard I felt it for weeks, left me trapped in a dirty basement, threatened to shoot me and you say I should thank you? Do you think I suffer from Stockholm syndrome? If anything, you should be thanking me for being so forgiving, Colonel Yang, though I doubt your singular braincell is capable of such—"

“But I also saved you,” the man insists. “You would’ve died, guaranteed, if I left you face-planted onto the snow. What were you thinking, hiking up the goddamn tundra in the peak of winter, wearing a flimsy coat and no headgear? Were you hoping to die of hypothermia? And to engage a bird, some kind of pterodactyl that’s thrice your size – aren’t you extremely lucky to have been found by me?”

There’s a soft cough on the side. Li Jiayun chooses to speak up. “Actually, Colonel Yang, the one who found him was J—”

“Right!” Yang Rong talks louder. “So I wasn’t in the wrong, Noah! Look, anyone would be suspicious of your appearance – your hair color, your eyes – and how much were you bleeding back then? How could I forgo the possibility of an infection? Not to mention that your body temperature is staggeringly low for a human, and then there are your pupils that magically dilate in nighttime. Am I blind to not see such obvious signs? You’re not hiding it quite well, either, because remember when you bit—"

“My appearance…” Noah’s expression turns frosty, yet there’s a tinge of sadness mixed in. His throat is dry, and his voice breaks slightly when speaking. “I can’t change my appearance, Colonel Yang. I told you I was born like this.”

It may be that his tone trembled when he spoke, each syllable spoken softly and cracked, yet enough to plague. Noah’s eyes are downcast. Hesitant. A flash of hurt disguised within anger. “I may be unsightly, but it wasn’t my intention to harm you. I told you very specifically to get away from me that night.”

Yang Rong is taken aback. With a small frown, he replies, “That’s not what I meant, Noah.”

“Then what did you mean, Colonel Yang?” Noah smirks suddenly – a derisive smirk, chilly and dark. It’s out of character for his clean-cut features. “Do you want to kill me yet? I may have infected you already.”

“You—” The colonel gets up so suddenly from his seat that he bonks his head hard against the roof panel. He elicits a pained groan, massages his scalp, and then says, “Fuck, listen closely, Noah. I would’ve thrown you down the Paramus Sea already if I still consider you a threat, and I did not once say you are unsightly. You are quite possibly the—fuck, the most eye-catching person I’ve ever seen—"

“Must be eye-catching enough for you to be so obsessed with my capture—"

“Will you let me continue, damnit, I—”

“You’ve already made your point known so—"

“Ahhhh!” comes Jae’s shrill shout, the young man purposefully dragging his vowels in an attempt to placate the situation. The conversation has turned into more of yelling on both ends, both parties duking it out to have their voice heard. As Li Jiayun pulls on her colonel’s shirt sleeve to calm him down, Jae waves his hands frantically to dispel the brewing tension. “I-It’s okay! It’s okay, Colonel! Don’t worry, Noah! New relationships—er, that is, the beginning is always a little rocky, but I’m sure you both can work it out!”

“Y-Yes!” Li Jiayun agrees wholeheartedly. “Truthfully, I don’t know what’s happening, but I think we should all make amends. Since… um, since we’ve still got some time, why don’t we take a chance to get to know each other better? Teamwork is important when there are so little of us, after all.”

Noah makes a low noise of dissatisfaction and then sinks back into his seat, refusing to cooperate. Yang Rong clicks his tongue and sits back down, though his dark-green eyes are still drilling holes behind Noah’s head.

“T-Then… Colonel Yang, maybe you should apologize first,” Li Jiayun tries to say, her gaze flickering between the two men. “It would be good to be more… kind?”

“Alright.” Yang Rong agrees, to her relief. The man seems to recover from these situations extremely quickly. It is unfortunate that he hasn’t a filter for his mouth, however. He says, “The older and more mature one should cough up responsibility, after all, so Rong-ge will admit to his wrongs.”

He curves his lips up slightly and says, “Noah, I apologize. From the bottom of my heart, you are not ugly at all.”

Nobody tells him it’s the wrong thing to apologize for, but consensus holds that the colonel is really socially inept – and so, they make an exception. Jae and Li Jiayun let out a collective sigh.

Noah closes his eyes, leans his head against the window and doesn’t reply.