Chapter Text
They move the summer between high school and college. Jisung’s parents wanted to wait for him to complete school before they did anything, would never compromise his education – even for his ailing grandmother.
It was a race against time at the end, his grandmother’s chemo failing. The tumors were still there, stage two but not receding. Puzzling the doctors, who started to discuss amputation options but his grandmother refused.
Jisung passed all his classes though, his transcript sent to his university at the end and everything wrapped up for his attendance in the fall. All settled for later, nothing he needs to worry about for a long while. Months.
He goes to his graduation in between packing his room away. Says goodbye to his friends while handing them boxes of stuff he’s not taking along for the move, stuff too childish for his new adult bedroom. Not that he’ll be an adult in it much, he’s moving out again decently soon, but either way he doesn’t need all his stuffed animals, can donate his action figures.
Keeps the manga, even though they are both voluminous and heavy, because those were expensive. Are investments. Plus he’s going to need something to do out in the little country town his parents picked.
It’s a frantic week, full of inhaler puffs to lift all the boxes and donations, and movers lifting the really big stuff away while Jisung holds a squirming Bbama to his chest. Bbama who just likes people, gets excited and then frustrated when they don’t pet him. Whines when the movers continue to do their jobs, despite his obvious cuteness.
And then his dad is driving them all to their new home, grandma in the front seat because the chemo makes her carsick, and Jisung gets to see it for the first time.
He’s glad it’s just for the summer.
The house is cute, he supposes. So is the town, what little of it they drove through. It’s… small. Lots of trees, a little town center with a couple stores, a school. One. For all the grades.
He’s glad he’s done, he doesn’t think he could do that.
Their house is detached. Doesn’t share any walls with its neighbors – also a first for Jisung. Not a bad thing though, that part he quite likes. Their apartments and later townhouse were great, but they were always loud.
Here it’s quiet. Eerily so.
They explore the house before the moving truck arrives, walk up the steps to the big front porch – Jisung can imagine his grandmother sitting out here and admiring the nature around them. And there is a lot of it – woods on three sides, a front lawn and garden that only shows glimpses of the other houses nearby. The town center further out.
The house is nice though, the previous owners clearly cared for it. Kept it clean and neat, his mom will probably want to change some of the wall colors and there’s some older outlets that will need to be replaced, but it’s not nearly as bad as the townhouse was at first. Not nearly as much to do, and the plumbing doesn’t scream when he goes upstairs to use the bathroom.
It’s definitely different, but it’s not the worst. And it’s only for a couple of months. Jisung can adjust, can do the small town thing for a little while and then go back to the city. He’ll need to find student accommodation, since the original plan had been to stay at home for his studies. A later problem, right now he has to figure out which of the three rooms on the second floor will be his.
Probably not the master, even though he’d love having the big closet and the ensuite bathroom. He’s not here for long, just a few months a year. One of the two single bedrooms is fine, he can use the hall bath like he did before. Won’t need to share it with his parents this time.
He picks the one that looks out into the woods. He doesn’t expect either to be loud, but it’s probably the prettier view – right? Also his father will need the other as an office since he’s working remotely now, and being able to see everyone coming in and out is something he’d appreciate.
His grandmother will have the room that is normally the office, on the first floor. Stairs aren’t her friend anymore, though she’s not at the point where she needs any dedicated walking aids. Chemo is just hard on everyone, more so when it doesn’t seem to work.
His mom says that there’s something in the water in this town.
That’s why they moved here. People are just… healthier. There are several health retreats tucked away in the woods that boast spiritual healing that modern medicine can’t touch. And yeah, there is always the risk that they’re scam artists, people who will claim stuff that they can’t deliver but who cares because they got your money. Jisung pushed back at first, laughed at the reddit posts she cited when she first learned about the place.
But the population of this town is actually, weirdly, extremely healthy. There’s been studies, real science-y ones. The life expectancy here is insane, and many people have had their illnesses managed or reversed. Confirmed by doctors at the hospital a few towns away.
Jisung’s still a little skeptical, but his parents were all in. Obviously.
Especially as his grandmother’s chemo started to fail, as modern medicine stopped working. As hope started to fade and they turned to whatever this is. Some chemical in the water? Fresh air and having to walk longer to get to anything? Some grizzled old man in a shop that reeks of bitter herbs giving them tonics to drink?
Because that’s a big part of it, apparently. There’s something in the water, something about the fresh air, but all the retreats boast about the local herbalist on their websites. Claim him as one of the big perks, the shop being in business for hundreds of years, a long line of people doling out carefully curated traditional medicine that they say is more effective than pharmaceuticals. Helps heal if you’re healable, helps manage your symptoms if you’re not.
Another thing that sucked his parents in. Chemo didn’t work so they’ll turn to something else. Something older, significantly sketchier but that’s only Jisung’s opinion anymore.
The truck rumbles down their long driveway and his exploration of the house ends. Jisung takes a puff of his inhaler in preparation for the rest of the day to be just unloading it, directing the movers to put boxes into roughly the appropriate space. Get all their furniture out, what little they kept. Jisung grew up in IKEA beds, dressers, desks. And as convenient as they are when you live in a cramped city apartment, they shake apart when you move them.
They kept the beds, though, to have somewhere to sleep the first night. Jisung’s fancy gamer desk chair that he begged his parents for Christmas one year too. And then just boxes and boxes of clothes, manga volumes. Other books, but less so. His computer set up, carefully packed in the trunk of their car because he didn’t trust the movers. His dad’s too, because it’s company property.
No desk yet, so he just sets it up on the floor. Near the window, so he can look out during the loading screens since it’s not exactly the most powerful thing out there. Never was.
And it’s pretty outside. He can see the edge of the yard from his window, the line of trees that starts where the grass ends, the lush foliage and probably birds that aren’t just pigeons or something.
His dad goes into town to get them dinner, since there’s no food in the house. It’s a decent enough meal, packed in Styrofoam clamshells that Jisung hasn’t seen for years. They’re banned in the city, everything cardboard or compostable. It feels a little bit like going back in time, the small town in the woods with the herbalist shop and non-biodegradable packaging.
They keep unpacking the next day, Jisung helping his grandmother put her room away while his mother unpacks the kitchen. His father is setting up his office, Jisung can hear the creaking of the floorboards as he walks around above them. It’s a little comforting that the house makes noise because nothing else seems to.
There are no sirens, no honking of cars. No overhearing someone walking down the sidewalk, talking loudly into their phone. No dogs barking even, not even Bbama since there’s nothing to bark at. Just the distant sound of birds and the rustling of trees if you open the windows.
His mom didn’t grow up in the city, and she loves it. Loves the quiet, the calm. Tell him he’ll get used to it quicker than he thinks, that the stillness is rejuvenating. Jisung can see it too, kind of, the air smells clean here. Faintly like pine, it’s nice.
He goes into town that afternoon, to help his mother carry all the groceries they need. Some stuff moved with them – rice and flour and oil. Pantry staples, dry stuff that could just be packed away. The whole point of moving here is to be healthy though, so they need the other stuff. The fruits and vegetables and all that.
The town is cute. There are sidewalks at the center, thankfully, and the main street has a row of little shops. A salon, two restaurants and a bar, a consignment shop. A coffee and tea shop, designed like an old tea house. A boutique clothing store where everything looks really organic and zen. Leaning into the crunchy vibe a little.
The grocery store is not on the main street, set off from the center a little to accommodate for the fact that it’s decently large, the local gas station in the corner of its parking lot. The store is full of produce too, more than Jisung expected for a small town and lots of options that his mom picks over. Tons of meats too, all carefully arranged. Aisles and aisles of frozen food.
They end up filling a cart to the brim, restocking a house takes a lot.
“Are you the new family on Engels street?” The cashier asks as Jisung tries to load everything onto the belt as neatly as possible. Tries not cringe too, because the idea of small town gossip freaks him out a little. He doesn’t want people to know about him, he’s embarrassing enough as an anonymous nobody.
“Yes!” His mother says, too excited for this interaction. “Just arrived yesterday. Still setting everything up.”
“That’s lovely. It’s always nice to have some new people put roots down.” The cashier says, sweet as anything. “Feel free to ask anyone for help, we’re a friendly bunch in this town.”
He can tell, Jisung looking up from his frantic emptying of the cart to see her smile. There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s not sinister or anything. It’s just different. In the city no one would ever think to talk to him in a store. People are busy, frequently have their headphones on. Have places to be.
“We’re so new we don’t even know what to ask yet!” His mom says, apparently not having anywhere to be. He supposes he doesn’t either, the only plan for today is to go back to the house and continue unpacking. The only plan for the whole week, really.
Maybe they’ll video call his brother later, take him on a virtual tour of the place since he couldn’t take off to visit until later. He slows down as the conveyor belt fills up. The cashier is in no hurry either, scanning things at a leisurely pace that would have been grounds for firing her in the city. There’s no one in line behind them though, just a handful of people in the store at all.
“Well, it’s not all that complicated here. The businesses downtown are closed Mondays and some on Tuesdays, so be aware of that when you shop. The dump is closed Sunday and Wednesdays. And be careful around the herbalist… he’s an odd one.”
Figures. Jisung can’t imagine anyone who still clings to traditional medicine is particularly normal. He’s probably a crotchety old man who snaps at his customers or something.
He shuffles around the cart to start bagging. Plastic bags here, everything just stuck in the past. His mom has a couple reusable bags in her purse, but he fills those up quickly. Has to use the store’s bags because they just have so much, everything getting restocked at once.
The trunk and the backseat of their car gets filled up. It rustles ominously as they drive back, a few items shifting when they get on their gravel driveway, but it’s almost the end then. The garage is filled with empty boxes and wads of bubble wrap so she parks out front, and they call his dad down to help unload.
Jisung calls his brother when everything is put away, his mom starting on dinner while his dad tries to set up the TV in the living room.
“It’s definitely… different.” Jisung says as he walks his brother through the top floor. “We can’t even see the neighbors. And people in town were like… nice? Talkative? It was weird.”
His brother laughs over the phone. “How will you survive?” He asks and Jisung makes an outraged sound. Sure his brother is the more social one of them two, Jisung basically let him talk for both of them when he was really little, but he has grown out of that a little. Had to, when his brother left for college and Jisung had no one to hide behind.
Had to make friends on his own. He did fine, had classmates he talked to and everything.
“It’s not that bad!” he says, maybe a tad defensive. “It’s still mostly walkable. The town center is only like a five minute drive, so that’s like thirty minutes? Walking? And the house is nice, my room is pretty big. And we’re going to get you a bed to put in dad’s new office for when you visit.”
He shows his brother the office – currently just a desk set up in the corner and a pile of boxes filled with books. They need a lot of furniture; a bed, bookshelves, a desk for Jisung’s computer. Probably other stuff, to be discovered as they continue unpacking.
It takes a long time. All week to empty out all the boxes, Jisung going with his dad to the dump to recycle them. To throw out their trash too, because that apparently doesn’t happen curbside. And people talk at the dump too, since they all have to go all their time to throw out their trash. A guy recommends they buy a storage bin to carry the trash bags so they don’t leak in the trunk, another gives them advice about something – Jisung was too busy hauling cardboard out of the back seat while his dad chatted.
One guy with a pickup truck gives his dad his number in case they go to the consignment shop to buy furniture and it doesn’t fit in their sedan. He lives just down the street from them, apparently, and is happy to help.
Another tells them that the herbalist doesn’t have official hours, because he’s crochety like that. Tells them to only go when they really need it, because you shouldn’t spend time around him if you don’t need to.
It’s a little weird how a town this friendly keeps randomly shitting on this man. Maybe he is genuinely an asshole, Jisung certainly doesn’t feel the urge to ever interact with him now.
Not that Jisung is spending time with anyone. He was never the best at making friendships, and the ones he had in school were all just for convenience’s sake – the ‘hey we see each other every day, we should probably talk’ type. He still texts with them now, sends pictures of the house and stuff, but he’s not pressed.
Not pressed to find a replacement either, since he’s not here for long. Is happy with just chatting with people online, helping his parents set up the house, and then leaving for better things. More civilized things. With sidewalks on every street instead of just downtown.
The whole family goes out to the consignment store the next day. Free of all the boxes, the house feels empty, even with all their things just in piles in the corners of rooms. It’s so much bigger than the townhome they had before, needs so much more stuff.
The store is not empty. At all. It’s a bit of a mess, actually, every single rejected item in the whole town found its way into the building, all stacked haphazardly on shelves or pushed against the wall.
It’s old too, not an IKEA piece in sight. His mom and grandmother love it, cooing over pieces that are ‘real, solid wood’ and with pretty carved feet and all of that. Jisung doesn’t really care too much about that – he needs a desk, any desk, a bookcase, and something to serve as a nightstand. Style barely matters because already he has the basic pine IKEA bed with stickers on it from when he was a little kid and an extremely loud blue-and-red gamer chair. Nothing he buys will have a cohesive look.
Also it’s temporary. He’ll need to do all this again in a couple months – unless he can find a place that comes pre-furnished. Probably better, since this kind of sucks. He doesn’t care about build quality or decorative touches.
He picks the largest desk there, ignoring all the fancy secretary desks with the roll up tops and whatever. His monitor is large, and so is his keyboard. There’s no space on those desks for anything.
Picks the most basic bookshelf too, priced cheap because it’s just a waist-high box with two shelves. Good enough for him though, as he walks around holding the two pieces’ tags to claim them. Everything else isn’t interesting, there’s a lot of kitchenware that his mom is pouring over, and old decorative lamps and baskets and stuff like that. His dad is making his way through the tools in the back, putting stuff into a cart his grandma is holding onto for balance that already has a bunch of furniture tags for the rest of the house.
It's not everything they need, but it’s way too much for their car. The housewares fit into it, minus one elaborately painted lamp that is too big, and too ugly, to fit. Jisung’s dad calls the guy with the pickup they met the day before, and the store also offers one of its employee’s trucks to helps them carry everything over. Doesn’t cost any extra, just offers it because people are kind here.
It feels less weird every time.
Jisung ends up riding with the pickup guy’s son, a guy named Chris that works with his dad as the local handy-men. His dad is finishing a job right now, so he sent him over instead and Jisung is supposed to be guiding him back to the house.
An unnecessary move, since Chris knows exactly where they live.
“Houses don’t go up for sale a lot here, so there’s not many options.” He says sheepishly, as Jisung puts his phone back in his pocket. “People live a looong time here, and the nursing jobs are real good at the retreats.” Chris explains, and Jisung nods. Sounds plausible, both of those things are more or less why his parents moved too. The weird healthiness of the local population. The fact that the octogenarians are all walking out on the street as Chris drives by them, waving at him since none are using a walker.
Not to say there aren’t young people – Chris is here, clearly. There’s a school, it has students. Jisung’s seen kids playing soccer on the streets as his family drove around to get all their chores done. Because everyone drives here, all the time.
Jisung, his dad, Chris and the older guy from the store end up carrying all the furniture in. The rest they’ll order online, flat packed and annoying to assemble. Jisung will definitely be roped into doing it, like he has been every time before.
His room looks much better, with more than just a bed in it. Chris compliments him on his set up too, tells him there’s a group of guys in town that get together to game sometimes. Mostly multiplayer stuff, Nintendo games in person and co-op ones online.
He gets Chris’s number for that. Might as well make a couple of friends for the summer, just so it doesn’t drag on forever. Chris also gives his number to Jisung’s dad, in case he needs any help with the house.
Jisung gets added to a group chat while he’s putting his manga collection into the bookcase. Immediately there’s introductions – Felix who plays under the gamertag Lixiebaby00 and Jeongin who plays as I.N.Fox. Chris goes by wolfman97, apparently, and right now they’re mostly playing League and Genshin Impact.
Not his favorite games ever, but he’ll play them. Gets added to a discord server too, filled with memes and links that he doesn’t really understand but it’s kind of fun to be a part of the chaos. He still needs to set up his computer for anything to happen, but that’s up next now that the books aren’t in the way of where he wants the desk.
Apparently you can’t do multiplayer on Genshin until you’re level 16, which he is very much not, having just downloaded the game. League he can play, had it already and is a terrible player but so is most of the rest of their group so they just do their best. Scream a lot on the discord, and it’s quite fun.
Right now they’re playing Genshin, so Jisung is helping his dad assemble the furniture they bought online while watching the discord chat. His mom and grandmother are off at the herbalist, having finally learned how getting a consultation works because the man has no website.
You just show up, apparently. Wait in line if there is one, and he examines you and gives you an assortment of dried plants and stuff to take and you theoretically get better. Everyone swears by him though, claims his pot pourri really does help.
They finish playing while Jisung is still setting up a console table with way too many slats, and Chris tells everyone he’s off to go do work on the ramp at the herbalist’s house-slash-store.
Good luck and be careful Lixxiebaby sends in response and it’s not even startling anymore. Everyone talks about the herbalist like it’s something vaguely awful. It’s a thing you suffer through to get the traditional medicine mix that makes you feel better, though that might also just be a lot of placebo.
The more bitter the medicine, the more you feel like it should work. The worse the experience at the herbalist, the healthier you feel for surviving it.
The most startling part is when his mom and grandmother come back and they say that “he was a lovely young man” when Jisung asks about the experience. His grandmother he’d understand, she says that about everyone – including grouchy businessmen in their 50s who would curse at her for walking slowly on the sidewalk. His mom isn’t old as shit, and she doesn’t hold back from judging people in private.
Maybe he’s just nice to newcomers. Trying to retain their business until they’re hooked on his leaf juice and he can be as much of an asshole as possible to them then.
And his grandmother does have some leaf juice to make. Little sachets of leaves and bark and berries individually portioned out for her to boil and drink. The instructions are specific too, as Jisung helps her set up the first ‘dose.’ Bring two cups of water to a rolling boil and then turn off the heat, put the sachet into the pot, close the lid and steep for exactly five minutes. Remove the sachet, let cool, drink.
It’s technically medicine, so he sets the timer on his phone while his grandmother watches from the breakfast table. Aka their old table, because this house is big enough to have a separate dining room and one of the things he spent the afternoon building was the new ‘formal’ table and chairs.
The drink smells like woods when his timer goes off and he hurries back to pull the packet out with a pair of tongs. Earthy, woody, a little bit of spicy in there too. The sachet is full of slices of wood and leaves when he pulls the used one apart, nothing really identifiable to him.
Doesn’t taste great, when he pours it into a mug and his grandmother takes her first sip. Her face scrunches up and she makes a low sound of displeasure, but she continues to drink it. Gets through the whole thing while smacking her lips periodically.
It’s part of what they moved here for. The magic, fountain of youth water and the traditional medicine that everyone hates to go get, but gets anyways.
The house is more or less moved into after two weeks. Exactly in time for his brother to arrive, dodging all the heavy lifting completely.
His dad went out to pick him up from the airport, a huge ordeal because they live in the middle of nowhere, and Jisung was roped into putting the new sheets on the new bed in the office upstairs. New because it’s a day bed type thing and Bbama interpreted that as a neat, XXL dog bed just for him and he has very much made it his little spot. Complete with bits of leaves and grass he tracks into the house after he’s let out to run in the giant yard.
Bbama loves the house obviously. Loves the yard, runs around yapping at things like he’s possessed. Has been busy finding all his new favorite napping spots. Will be very displeased when Jisung’s brother comes in and steals his favorite one.
The first thing they do when his brother arrives is another tour of the house, with slightly less shaky cam this time. Also way more stuff, everything put away neatly and the place is actually starting to look like somewhere people live instead of a giant empty shell.
They show him the town too, it’s cute little shops and they go out to dinner at the restaurant one evening. They’re trying to be healthy though, more than just drinking the water and steeping the sachets. His mom has been cooking tons of very healthy meals, doing more and more vegetarian meals. Wants to have a garden in the yard, recruits his brother to drive out to the hardware store the next town over and drag home all the lumber she needs for her raised garden boxes.
Jisung isn’t completely replaced by his brother, he had to help staple the chicken wire to the wooden frame they built around the boxes, to keep the rabbits and deer and all the little woodland critters out. He does get to escape doing hard labor on the fourth day, his brother helping plant all the starts their mom bought and Jisung helping bring his grandmother out to get her next supply for medicine.
To be perfectly honest, he offered. He’s not the greatest at driving, avoids it usually, but he’s curious. Everyone keeps talking shit about this herbalist, but his mom insists he was a normal, nice guy. So he wants to see for himself.
And it’s not like the herbalist is far – it’s only like three turns. Jisung can manage that much, and the roads don’t exactly see a ton of traffic this far from the town center.
Climbs out of the car, maybe parked a little crooked but in Jisung’s defense; it’s not like the guy has a parking lot. Just worn-down gravel driveway that splits off the road and ends in just a muddy-grassy patch flattened for what Jisung hopes is cars. The flat patch touches the new looking ramp that Chris mentioned, wide enough for Jisung to have his arm out to stabilize his grandmother’s hesitant steps, and a very sturdy railing.
The rest of the building is a patchwork of old and new. It looks like a rustic cabin, entire trees laid on their side to make the walls, with the seams covered with plaster. The door creaks on really old cast-iron hinges that desperately need to be oiled, and the inside is just… dark. It takes Jisung a moment to adjust to after the light of the summer sun, the few windows in the space cluttered with stuff. Dusty too, like no one bothers to clean them.
The rest of the space isn’t dusty though, looks decently clean actually. A mix of old and new again, and just so much stuff. Jars and pots and rows and rows of built-in drawers. It looks the part of a traditional medicine shop, even the rafters are cluttered with bundles of plants in various stages of drying out.
There’s a sound from the back, somewhere behind the enormous shelving unit that stores what must be at least fifty huge jars of… stuff. Leaves and sticks and sliced up stuff. It’s labeled, Jisung can see the variety of things stuck to the jars to identify them – from decorative metal plates to just pieces of old masking tape.
And then the herbalist finally walks into the main room, out from the back and to the stool that Jisung had helped his grandmother to with a “Hello again, how did the first mix work for you?”
His grandmother says something back, but Jisung doesn’t process it. Doesn’t process anything but the fact that everyone has been lying to him. Except for maybe being careful around the guy – though not for the reasons he’s been told.
He’s not grouchy or crotchy. He’s definitely not old. He’s perfectly pleasant as he smiles and talks to his grandmother, places his fingers delicately on her frail wrist and closes his eyes to listen to her pulse.
Jisung needs to be careful because the herbalist is fucking hot, and the entire town has been trying to cockblock him, apparently.