Archive of Our Own

Meet me at the bottom of the ocean
Where the time is frozen
Where all the universe is open

*******

Flames slowly
Wrapped us up

The final bell rings, signaling the end of the school period for the day, and sound of chatters immediately filled the hallways as students escape the classrooms; girls walking in pairs or groups, giggling away, and boys laughing boisterously, each of them all too ready to call it a day.

Taking his time, Taehyun waits until most of the others had left before he starts gathering his stuffs, while beside him Hueningkai is still slumped over the desk, facing him, one hand swatting aimlessly, as Beomgyu gleefully makes a show of trying to poke the youngest visible cheek from the other side.   

Usually he would’ve roused the two so that they can start leaving already, but it’s the last week before the Summer break, and their History teacher just handed them quite possibly one of the most annoying homework to mull over throughout the holiday -a full report-style essay with topic of one’s choosing- with Kai being the exception as his subject matter was chosen personally by the teacher.

“You’re the only one in this class who came from afar, so it’ll be interesting to see your take on this town’s story”, Mr. Kim mused, and Hueningkai had accepted it readily at first, until class was over and they start discussing on possible topics, (Taehyun on Joseon kings, while Beomgyu on Silla dynasty) that they realized the situation Kai is in -there’s absolutely nothing that came to mind when it comes to this place.

And now here they are, after an intense session of brainstorming, with Kai end up dreading everything about this report, as the attempt to appeal for other topics was resolutely rejected on the spot by Mr. Kim (and so is Taehyun’s suggestions to try checking the local library, to his dismay).

“Beomgyu-hyung also came from afar, why is it only me?”

Said hyung just pets the boy’s head, and gravely announced, “My ancestors were actually from here, so,” and that seems to erupt a reaction from Kai, who immediately straightens himself up, wide eyes trained on the eldest among them, “maybe I’ll just do the Choi family history or something,” to which Beomgyu just snorts out loud.

“Well, that’s an idea though I doubt it’ll be interesting enough-”

The sudden halt caught both their attention, and there’s a contemplative look on Beomgyu’s face, before slowly, almost like a whisper, he continues, “there is, though.”

“How does ghost stories sounds to you, Kai?”

There is a glimmer in the boy’s eyes, and Taehyun, by all rights, should’ve known better, really, but he finds himself at the end of Beomgyu’s gaze, the beginning of a smirk forming on the lips, as he speaks in faux innocence, “We need to show Mr. Kim that folk stories are also one part of history, right, Taehyun-ah?”

And when Hueningkai turns to face him, with that look on his face, like he’s finally seen a spotlight from a damn tunnel or something, he knows there’s no winning these two.

Just like that, they find themselves climbing the stairs, all the way to the topmost floor of the building, and walks on, passes the rows of classes designated for clubs until they reach the last room at the very end of the hallway, the sign above the door read cultural research club, emblazoned in brown color against the white plate.

Taehyun knows of the club, though just by name, while Kai readily admits he never knew it existed, to which Beomgyu just shrugs, saying it’s his first time there, too, before casually steps ahead and knocks on the door, once, twice.

A soft ‘yes?’ greets them from the other side, and Beomgyu takes that as invitation to reach for the knob, turns it, and the old door creaks open, the sound almost echoes off the wall, gust of wind greets his face.

A blink, and he can see him, like something out of a painting, standing against the open window, wind tousling the dark hair, the light of evening sun spills on the floor, painting the room in orange. And when he straightens to move closer, welcoming them in, it’s clear that he easily towers over them, even from this distance, to Taehyun’s slight jealousy.

Surprisingly, it’s Kai who speaks first, introducing themselves, and politely explains the reason for the visit, as Taehyun takes in the surroundings; pile of boxes carefully stacked upwards towards the ceiling, treasured notebooks arranged neatly behind the glass cupboard, a whole shelf taking up one side of the wall, filled with binders of journals, with some of them turns out to be dedicated to unraveling ghost stories around the town, carefully lined by years, with the earliest dated almost half a century ago, to their utter delight.

The thought of going through the rows of shelf feels daunting, but so long as they can make a copy of whatever specific tale Kai choose to write his report on, the faster they can leave, and not bothering the clearly senior student.

That really should’ve been the end of it, as far as Taehyun was concerned.

Later, much later, when they try to recall the origin of it all, they would unanimously agree that it’s all Kai’s fault, to the youngest utter dismay, though personally, for Taehyun, it’s Beomgyu who should hold the largest share of the blame, if only for being the one who actually started this whole mess. 

Choi Beomgyu, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, just fiddling with the binders, only to let out a gasp loud enough to make everyone in the room turn, eyes wide.

“Do you have anything about the gate in the forest?”

Kai quips a small “gate?”, turning to Taehyun for answer, but it’s his first-time hearing of such thing, so he just mirrors the puzzled expression on the youngest face, and Beomgyu starts talking, about how there’s supposedly a gate like the ones that serves as the entrance to the temples, except there’s nothing around the area, just one lone gate among the trees.

The both of them ‘ooh’ at the info, and Taehyun has to admit that it sounds interesting, though he just about to ask how on earth that Beomgyu knew that to begin with when the senior moves, reaching for one of the binders on the topmost shelf before he halts suddenly, retracting his hand.

“How about I just bring you guys there? It’s not that far in, actually.”

And for a moment there’s silence, before all the sounds explodes, Beomgyu screeching ‘it exists?’ while Kai whoops with joy, already planning to take all the pictures for the report, and so it falls on Taehyun to approach the stunned senior at the ruckus the two are making, asking for contact number to plan the excursion, to which the man complies easily.

They leave the room with giddiness in their hearts, the whole excitement infectious enough to sweep Taehyun along, so much, despite his usual cautiousness with strangers, and the soft, muted alarm in the back of his mind. After all, he must’ve imagined it, the look in his eyes, and the slow spread of a smile on the man’s lips upon hearing Beomgyu’s question.

Never mind the fact that none of them even know the senior’s name.

Oh well, Taehyun thinks, he’ll ask in the group chat later.

Meanwhile, back in the clubroom, the boy is sleeping on the desk by the window.

The moment his breathing falls in a steady rhythm the shadow from the wall detached itself, inching closer, and kneels beside the head, invisible hand brushes the hair from the forehead gently, the light from the almost setting sun hitting the student’s body in a different angle than it supposed to be.

Softly, gently, it calls for his name, like a hushed whisper.

‘Choi Soobin.’

*******

No don’t you wake me
I want to stay in this dream

There is a sound of distant thunder rumbling in the sky, despite the clear blue of the sky above. Occasionally soft wind will blow, providing little relief from the sweltering hot weather, and the rocky pavement is a popular path today, as passersby opts to stay as far in as possible, taking shelter under the rows of trees lining up the road, away from the scorching sun.

Fanning himself with one hand, the other holding loosely onto the long empty cup of grape juice, Hueningkai leans against the bark of the cherry tree, by the curving fork heading to the forest, waiting for the rest to arrive. He berates himself for taking the bait from Beomgyu; he had been the last one to reach the class, again, and they were arguing about trivial matters as usual when somehow at one point the eldest dared him to be the first one to arrive at the meeting point today, to which he had stupidly said yes to.

And so here he is, half an hour earlier than the agreed time, melting under the summer sun. Still, he holds on, ignoring the glances and worried looks on some, if only to wipe the smug look on Choi Beomgyu’s face, and the prospect of lording over him with the promised free lunch for a whole week.

Besides, Kai thinks, the faster they arrived at wherever the gate is, the faster they can go back. He had ended up borrowing all the related notes on the place, -miniscule as it is-, and the more he thought about it the more things didn’t make sense; how is it possible for such an obvious spot for old kinds of tales to be kept under wraps this long? Taehyun had lived here for his whole life and even he doesn’t know a thing, which is mind-boggling for him.

It’s not that surprising for Beomgyu to know, though; dude practically thrives for this kind of stuff, despite never believing in ghosts and the like, for some reason.

“Hyuka?”

A soft pat on the cheek and he was back to reality again, to the cherry tree by the junction, and in front of him are both Beomgyu and Taehyun, with Soobin-hyung hovering behind them.

(The whole conversation in the group chat when Taehyun carefully asked the senior for his name was mortifying, to say the least; -how is it that no one thought to ask??- and again Kai thinks they’re lucky the man is kind enough to not get offended by the audacity of it all, even telling them to call him ‘hyung’ and simply laughed it off, instead.)

Belatedly, he realized he had actually sat down at some point, and he must have looked worse than he feels, for his friends to look at him with worry marring their handsome faces, and something tugged in his heart at the sight.

Alas, he is still Hueningkai, the ever cheerful and mischievous youngest among them, so he smiles wide, gloating at the fact that he had arrived first this time around, before snatching the bubble tea on Beomgyu’s hand, shamelessly slurping it down; he never realized how thirsty he is until his eyes zeroes in on the cold drink.

He knows for sure how bad it is now when Beomgyu actually waves him off when he returns the cup –to his credit he didn’t even drank that much despite the temptation- and Taehyun even offered his’ for good measure, to which he try to refuse before giving in, taking tentative sips as they walk down the road heading to the main pathway leading to the forest. Taehyun and Soobin takes the lead in front, and Kai made to follow, Beomgyu falling into step beside him.

They make small talk along the way, just random things about the plans for the rest of the break; -finishing this report: Taehyun, rank-up in game: Beomgyu, family outing: Kai, rest: Soobin- before unanimously agree to go to the beach at least once, and they all throw out an invitation to the senior almost at the same time, which he accepted graciously, to Kai’s delight. And in no time at all, they’re reaching the edge of the forest, and the eldest slows to a stop, facing them.

“Guys,” he calls, and Kai can feel him and his friends stand in attention immediately, somehow, “I need you to listen carefully; the road is clear ahead, and there’s usually nothing to worry about, but as we progress further we’ll divert from the main path into somewhere more…like-”

“Like an animal path?” Taehyun chimes in, and Soobin nods, before continues, “so, don’t panic, and just, follow along; also,” his eyes meets Kai’s, “if you happen to see something that, how to put it, different, I suppose, keep it to yourself, at least while we’re inside, okay?”

Taehyun nods, and even Beomgyu holds his tongue at the almost grave tone of Soobin’s voice, but the senior’s gaze was fixed on Hueningkai’s, as if it was aimed specifically at him, deliberately so. His lack of reaction catches his friends’ attention, and hastily he nods, hand on the chest, saying, “I’m nervous suddenly,” and just like that the heavy atmosphere dispersed instantly, as Beomgyu grabs hold of his arm, saying he’ll be his protector and all, drawing a laugh out of him.

He bravely meets Soobin’s eyes, and the senior smiles gently, as if there’s nothing happened at all, and Kai would’ve dubbed everything was just him overthinking things, except he really can see it, the ‘something different’ thing; in the form of a figure in blue hanbok-like garment, long white sleeve swaying gently, always a couple of steps ahead of them once they walk away from the main path.

And Soobin has his gaze trained on the figure the whole time, barely talking at all.

Beomgyu reasons that the senior is focusing in case he got them all lost, which Taehyun agrees with, the two of them muttering slowly under their breath, almost afraid to break the tranquil quietness of the forest. He would’ve thrown a vote on that point too -the figure does slips in and out of view, and if that really works as their ‘guide’ it really makes sense to stay focused- and yet.

There’s something in the way Soobin moves; steady at times and hurriedly on another, almost like he’s frantically chasing after the figure, but there’s no time to ponder further with that thought, for Soobin slows down, before taking a couple of steps more, and stops completely.

“We’re here.”

Hueningkai blinks, and sure enough, there it is, a gate, clearly visible, so huge it’s a wonder how in the world did he missed it in the first place; two round pillars painted red, supporting a tiled roof that stand in a straight line, like one of those iljumun gate designs. From the corner of his eyes he can see Taehyun approaching one of the pillars, cautiously puts one hand on the structure, and the amazed look on his friend’s face tells him that it’s real. Belatedly, he thinks of proof shots for the report, so he takes out his phone, and just turns on the burst mode, trying to capture the gate in all angle possible, slowly getting closer himself.

They spent some times like that; circling the pillars, discussing possible theories on how and why it’s built there, and with both sides being totally identical and lacking the name plate usually placed in the center of the gate there’s no telling which way is the real intended entrance, adding to the mysterious atmosphere.

“Now that I think about it, I don’t even know how we got here; there’s no specific path to follow or anything. How do you do it, hyung?”

It’s a simple question, and totally in line with Taehyun’s logic-oriented mind, but it must’ve caught Soobin off guard regardless, from the way his body stills, moving away from the pillar he was leaning on, as if burned.

“I-

A sudden shout, and all attention shifted to the sheepish Beomgyu, face slightly tinged red as he clumsily try to stand from where he must’ve accidentally tripped, and Kai realizes Beomgyu is perfectly positioned right at the center of the gate, so he snaps a quick picture to the boy’s vehement protest, hand waving wildly.

Just as suddenly, Soobin calls out, “You’re bleeding, does it hurt?” and that got them all moving to the center, the senior taking out his handkerchief and hands the flustered Beomgyu a band-aid, while Taehyun holds the injured hand, frown on the face as he inspects the wound. “Seems fine, but we should get it checked just in case,” turning to Kai, he continues, “should we go back now?”

The forest is deep enough where they are now, thick trees serving as cool shade, blocking the sunlight, that it’s easy to lose track of time, as a quick glance at the watch tells him that it’s already late, to everyone’s surprise. So, they gather their stuffs, checking the area in case they dropped trash or something, and Hueningkai looks around, discreetly trying to search for the figure from earlier, to bring them back.

Indeed, it’s here, on the other side of the gate, just a couple of steps away, and this close, perhaps, it’s the clearest Kai can see it. And as if waiting for him to recognize it’s there, it stays still, a hint of a smile peeks out from the white veil covering the figure’s face, and Hueningkai drops his phone.

Unwittingly, he thinks back to the clubroom, and how when the door opens the first thing that caught his gaze was the window, where an almost translucent figure leaned, facing him, barely visible finger raised to the lips. The image disappeared as soon as the body moved, replaced with the definitely real senior of theirs, soft smile welcomed them, and Hueningkai was left wondering if it was a trick of the mind, after all.

Except, apparently, it’s not, and perhaps he had been looking a few second too long, for suddenly an arm grabs his shoulder; it’s Taehyun, large eyes peering into his, one hand reaching towards his forehead, “Slightly warm still, must be why you’re a bit spacey; we’ve been calling you over for like, two minutes, Hyuka.”

Unable to reply, he just smiles, and bends down to pick up the fallen phone.

“We’re leaving,” Soobin declares, to Kai’s immense relief, and when he sneaks a peek behind him, the figure is gone, not a single trace of it left, the last of the setting sun paints the floor of the forest orange at some spots.

He must have been more tired than he thought, because he finds himself no longer has the energy to focus on anything anymore, just willing his legs to follow, and soon enough they’re outside the forest, the road leading away from there lit by the moon above.

Relieved, and also scared as the line connected and the ridiculous number of missed calls and messages arrived on all their phones, they make their way back home, Kai turning to thank Soobin for everything, only to see the boy far behind, watching them.

“Soobin-hyung?”

There’s a distance between them, yet he can still hear him, clearly.

“I think I left something behind; all of you go back first, okay?”

Had Hueningkai not feeling so damn tired he would’ve been alarmed, for there is something about the way the senior stand there, still, rooted on the spot, the dark of the forest looming behind him.

Alas, he had no way of knowing, not just yet, and so they simply bowed with gratitude, thanking him, to which Soobin actually bows back, saying, “no, thank you,” and it will be until much, much later that they’ll figure the meaning behind such gesture but now, it’s late, their families still won’t stop blowing their phones, so they wave him goodbye, and just as they’re about to break into a run Beomgyu turns around, saying, “I hope you found the thing quick and come back quickly.”

The resounding “I will, now that you wished it” reply sounds almost nonsensical coming from the soft-spoken senior, so much, he can’t quite stop the snort from escaping, but Soobin is chuckling, too, before hurrying them to leave already.

So, they run, none of them brave enough to actually answer the calls, and they are nearing the fork at the end of the road when Kai turns back, if only for one last time. A beat, and he can Soobin’s long arm swaying gently above him, waving them goodbye.

That night, Hueningkai falls into a deep sleep, and dreams.

It’s almost like recollection of today, except there’s another boy with them, wearing a blue hanbok-like garment, long white sleeve swaying gently as he walks across the forest floor, leading them all to a garden beyond the gate, where beautiful flowers bloom all year long, and in the middle of it is a lake, the surface covered with frost flower, as still as a mirror, reflecting the moon above.

The boy glides his way to the centre of the lake, despite their shouts of worries, and starts making turns, the move so graceful, Kai felt like he can watch him forever. Eventually, he stops, facing them, and wordlessly, with a smile, holds out one hand.

Perhaps Hueningkai is too self-aware, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Taehyun’s convincing him that this is nothing but a fleeting dream, and so he stays where he sits, despite the urge to grab the outstretched hand, and he turns around to see Beomgyu and Taehyun also do the same, to his relief.

Still, the boy holds on, as if waiting for something, and from the corner of his eyes he can see Soobin approaching the edge of the still lake, before carefully takes a step, slowly making his way over. Just as he’s about to reach the boy however, the senior turns, facing them.

With a thin voice, he bids them good night.

The next thing he knows he is awake, lying on his bed, gust of wind coming through the open window, to his confusion; he’s not the type to leave them open at night. The clock on the table reads 7AM, and Hueningkai blinks once, twice, before lies back again to sleep.

Unbeknownst to him, the other two participants of the dream are also jolted awake in their respective rooms; Beomgyu grumbling at the sunlight coming in from the window, while Taehyun is sitting upright, a sense of something pooling in his gut, dread in his veins.

Across the other side, still in the dream, Choi Soobin reached out a hand, convinced that he had finally found him, only for it to pass through thin air, and the surface ripples, plunging only the boy into the water. Devastated, he kneels on the center of the lake, palms flat on the surface, despite the cold digging into his skin.

Still, he stays,  willing for it to swallow him whole, and screams.

*******

I want you to take me
Anywhere but here

Once, his grandmother had sat him down, and start speaking in a tone so grave it left the longest impression on him, though try as he can be, he can never recall what the talk was about. By the end of the bizarre situation for the very young Beomgyu, she had patted his cheek softly, and told him that he can do whatever he wants, for he is the prince. It became a somewhat running joke within the family, to call him that, though he always whined about it, taking it as a somewhat insult due to how delicate he seemed to appear. She had laughed then, more amused than anything, but offered nothing at all.

Later, she had called for him, on her deathbeds, frail hand reaching up to his face, another holding his hand, as she passed him the key to their warehouse.

“Use it how you see fit, and don’t be afraid, Beomgyu-ah.”

The warehouse is almost sacred for the family, all sorts of history locked away since his grandfather’s passing long before he was born, and for a moment he was stunned speechless, knowing how big a deal this was. Smiling softly, she called him her prince, -up till the end, to his disbelief-, and that’s that.

Her passing took a toll on him; he took to lock himself away in the warehouse for distraction, and stumbled upon rows of old journals from his direct ancestors, -which he still regret reading-, for he ended up figuring out more than he ever wanted to; like the fact that he was born with the most ‘power’ to repel ghosts of all things, judging from the one time he apparently drove away most of the ghosts near the warehouse when he was younger by accident, all while being none the wiser, the incident noted in excruciating detail by the clan leader, who was his grandmother.

Looking back on it now, perhaps, that’s when she started the whole prince thing, and when he started being aware of how the members of his family sometimes just stare at empty corners from time to time.

He also found out more about the Choi clan, and their long history with the land, -apparently, they were one of the first prominent families to live there, and he’s pretty much a direct descendant to the ones who open this very town in the first place, to his surprise.

Still, he found himself thinking nothing of it, because it’s not as important as the fact that the members of main Choi clan in this town had always been capable of seeing ghosts. Some of his predecessors even claimed to manage to speak to them, though nothing of much importance ended up being recorded from such encounters. And the ability continues until this current generations; his parents and older brothers even could feel them sometimes, like an aura, to a varying degree, especially around the warehouse.

All of them could; except for Choi Beomgyu, the youngest of the family, who ended up not being able to see any ghost at all, ironically so.

“So that’s why you bring up ghost stories at first! Still, power, huh,” Kai mused, and it still feels like a fever dream, that they’re here, the three of them, in the warehouse of the Kang family, of all things.

Kang clan came from the more seaside part of the country, and while not as prominent here, they had been around almost as long. While the Choi clan has the whole ghost thing, the Kang clan passed down strong intuition to the descendants, something that Taehyun admitted had saved him in more than one occasion, while Hueningkai, well, he came from the other side of the world altogether, so he should have nothing to do with whatever this is, except, out of the three of them, the youngest is the one who can recall the dream they saw the best, even able to see the ghost, to their bewilderment.

“Maybe it’s the Jung clan? Or whichever ancestors from my father’s side.” Kai quips.

They had woken up at around the same time this morning, -give and take a couple of minutes- and once Taehyun confirms that Beomgyu is fine, immediately calls Hueningkai, waking the youngest for the second time today, the clear distress in his voice snaps Kai out of sleep almost immediately.

Even now Taehyun is still fidgeting somewhat, nerves on fire, the bad feeling never quite leaving his gut, as the next call to Soobin goes straight to the mailbox, like the hundreds of times before.

Soobin is from a different branch of the Choi clan, and Beomgyu has no idea how this bloodline thing affects the descendants, but if Kai’s assumptions are correct, then perhaps the ghost is closely related to Soobin’s side of the family instead of Beomgyu’s. He had known the senior only by face before, and until the other day there’s never been any contact between them whatsoever, that it’s hard to believe such a situation will occur just because they talked to each other, unless-

“Guys,” Beomgyu begins, “let’s go to the gate.”

Taehyun’s eyes widen, and he can see the gears turning in the pretty head of his, while Kai lets out a soft ‘oh’, as realization sinks in. The problem is how to get there, but Beomgyu vaguely recalls reading about it in the journals, so if they go through those again then…

A sudden ring of the phone brings them back to the present, and Taehyun lunges for it with a reflex as sharp as an athlete, before dropping it instead, only saved by the piles of journals scattered on the floor, the name ‘Soobin-hyung’ flashes on the screen. With slightly shaky fingers, he accepts the call, turns on the loudspeaker, and calls out, “Hyung?”

For a moment there’s nothing but silence, until a voice answer back, “Yes.”

It’s fascinating, really; they’ve known the senior for barely a week or so, and yet, there’s no mistaking that soft tone, so much, all of them slumps by the floor, relief on their faces. Seeing his chance, Beomgyu picks up the phone, asking, “Where are you? Kai and Taehyun are worried sick, you know?”, to the disbelief of said two people, and Kai is just about to start protesting when suddenly the sound of bells starts ringing from the other end of the line, as if from afar, and gradually coming closer.

“Beomgyu, I’m sorry; I don’t want to get any of you involved even further, but-”

There’s a muted something in his mind, as if the ringing of the bells is distracting his entire brain from actually thinking, and from the almost blank look on the other two, it seems it’s not just him that’s affected by all of this. Gathering his strength on his hands, he hits the floor, the heavy sound pierces through for a moment.

Almost immediately afterwards, there’s a cracking sound on the line, like something is breaking, and Beomgyu, he can never forget; the sigh that greets him at the moment, followed by an almost heartfelt whisper of thanks, before the sound erupted, like a huge splash of water just hits him with all the force possible, and the deafening silence that echoes long after the call cuts off.

There can never be any words that could describe this feeling, just a numbing acceptance that something irreversible just happened, as Beomgyu slowly, puts the phone down.

This prince never believes in ghosts, despite everything.

But the moment his hand hit the floor, it’s the cold that registers with him, the feeling so raw and real, he almost can see it, the lake beneath his hands, and under one palm, the handkerchief slightly stained red with blood.

His blood, carefully wiped away by Soobin just yesterday.

And if all that is real, then, perhaps he-

“Beomgyu-hyung,” Taehyun calls, voice taking on a serious tone. Ah, he thinks, perhaps he had said it all out loud, huh, but there’s no way that’s possible, nothing about this makes a single lick of sense, but Hueningkai, their youngest is crying, and a warm hand brushes his cheek, Taehyun’s large eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Perhaps, the most damning thing about all of this, is the leftover frost flower on his hands, stinging him with the cold still, and all Beomgyu wants to do is sleep the whole break away.

And so, he does.

By the time school reopens, Beomgyu finds himself stuck catching up with all the worksheets, so bad, there’s barely time for anything else, and out of spite, he writes a report on the history of the Choi clan in this town for the History class, making it as simple as possible but still with all the right sources, to the pride of his parents, somehow.

Taehyun sticks with Joseon kings, a brief summary of all 27 of them, -how he had the energy to do all that, Beomgyu has no idea- while Kai writes about the gate, the report being almost 20 pages long, though that is only possible because half of it is just attachments of the pictures of said gate.  

Their reports earns them all a solid A+, with Hueningkai’s eventually being sent all the way to The National Institute of Korean History, and becomes a hot topic for a while, as efforts to properly locate the structure goes underway, though it will take them much, much later to even see the gate again, to the bafflement of the authorities.

Now, though, the three of them are summoned by Mr. Kim to the staff room, who decided to change location, and leads them up the stairs. It feels like a long time ago since they first walk down this hallway, and when they near the end, none of them actually approaches the door to the culture research club, just, standing nearby, unable to take the steps.

In front of them, the teacher reaches for the knob, and pushes the door open, the creaking sound echoes much louder than before, and with a wave of a hand, beckons them closer. Peeking inside, Beomgyu finds that the room is exactly as he remembers; the boxes, the glass cupboard, and even the rows of journals on the shelf, except, the window is closed shut, and there’s dust piling everywhere.

As if the room is not used for years, except, they were here, just a month ago-

Almost simultaneously, they turn towards Mr. Kim, who is dusting off a black hardcover book from the drawer by the desk near the window. Carefully, the man flips through the pages of the yellowed album for a while, before stopping at a page, a clear nostalgia in his eyes.

The man hands over the album, and the page has a couple of pictures, but one in particular catches his attention, and judging from how all of them gasped at the same time, Beomgyu knows they’re looking at the same thing.

The date is 10 years ago, and the background is here, in this room, but it’s like someone just printed a scene straight out of their memories; of one Choi Soobin, standing against the open window, wind tousling the dark hair, the light of evening sun spills on the floor, painting the room in orange. Beside him, sitting by the windowsill is another boy, but there is grace apparent in his posture, despite the awkward position, and this may very well be the first time they see the face, but there’s no mystery on who the boy might be. Still, Beomgyu asks for his name, and there’s a pained expression on Mr. Kim’s face.

“That’s Choi Yeonjun, and together, they’re the club’s final members.” There’s a tremor in his voice, and it’s clear to him how this affects the teacher still, “It was early Summer when he went missing; we got the police involved and everything but-”

A heavy sigh, and there’s a faraway look in the older man’s eyes.

“It was hard on all of us, but I think Soobin had it the hardest, so I left him the keys to this room, so that he has a place to go, somewhere no one won’t bother him about Yeonjun again and again,” a small, almost proud smile, “Yeonjun’s a popular kid; basketball player, dance team member, but when it comes to real club activity it’s only this one, so I, as the advisor, knew him well; Soobin too, of course, or at least that’s what I thought.”

“The last time I saw Choi Soobin it was right before the break, and when he said that he’s going to find him, and he’ll return the key afterwards, I wished him luck, because he seems like he needed, wanted to hear it, but,” a pause, and a bitter expression makes its way on the man’s face, “maybe I shouldn’t have done that.”

Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, anything at all to refute that, but words escape him, and the frustration must have translated on his face, for Mr. Kim gives a grateful look, even when the tension is still clear on the man’s shoulders.

“So, you must understand, now; when I first read your report, Hueningkai, and saw Choi Soobin’s name in the acknowledgements section, I thought you’re trying to pull my leg somehow, but no matter how much I think I can’t figure out how that’s possible, so I want to hear it from all of you directly, here, because I have a hunch it’s related.”

Sweeping his eyes through all three of them, the man looks much more alive, and there’s conviction in his voice, when he says, “I know, somehow, you have some answers for me, and I hope you can share them, however plausible it may be. But, if it will harm either of you -in any shape or form possible- then don’t say a word, and this talk ends here.”

“No matter what, all three of you in front of me now are more important, by far.”

Mr. Kim exhales softly, and as if embarrassed after such emotional moments, turns towards the window. Outside, half the sun hides behind the hill, but dusk is still yet to come.

There is still time.

Both Taehyun and Kai is looking at him, now, nodding decisively, and that’s all Beomgyu needs, to gather all the strength in him, before calling out, “Sir,” and waits until the man turns fully, facing them again, to continue, “can we borrow the chairs from the History reference room in front or should we move there instead?”

Beomgyu can see it, the moment the realization hits the teacher, eyes widen.

They make the move to the opposite room, takes a seat around the table near the middle of the area, and Beomgyu breathes in deeply, the air from the open window is cool, calming him down.

And when he starts talking, telling the man everything they know, -followed by Taehyun and Kai, particularly when it comes to the ghost, though to Mr. Kim’s credit he barely flinches even at the most absurd sounding details- it feels like something slowly unravels, after all this time.

By the end of it all, they sit in silence, and the teacher has a contemplative look on his face, before abruptly stands up, and goes back to the clubroom. Bewildered, they made to follow, only to see the teacher reaching for one of the top boxes, carefully putting it on the desk by the window, and start rummaging inside it. After what seems like a minute, the man just, stops, hands on the head.

“I remember, now.”

The words came out like a whisper, but the dread in it thunders in Beomgyu’s heart.

“There’s an old journal, -several, actually- that belongs to Kim clan; there’s way too many branches of us I lost count which ones ended up on my hands, because some warehouse underwent repair so things moved around, and I brought the journals here for safekeeping, and then Yeonjun saw it; yes, he was oddly excited about the clan’s history and stuff, so I let him read it and-”

There’s horror on Mr. Kim’s face as it dawns on him.

“And then he’s gone.”

Something niggles in his mind, like a connection waiting to happen, but his mind feels slow to comprehend somehow, yet Taehyun, the smartest among the three of them, must’ve pieced it faster, for he steps forward, eyes wide, and asks what he wants to hear, like a blessing, “Do you know what could’ve been inside? There must be something related-”

A flash of light paints everything white, and suddenly thunder strikes, so loud, it erases all other sounds completely, before pitter patter of rain hits the window. Beside him Kai mumbles, “it’s still bright just minutes ago,” and everyone agrees on that, similar look of bewilderment on their faces.

Mr. Kim takes a deep breath, and almost unconsciously, he can feel himself following suit, calming himself down. Then, the man turns to Taehyun, and shakes his head minutely, a wry smile on his lips.

“No, I’m afraid I have no idea myself; though I do vaguely remember how the journal looks like,” a hand raised before any of them can say anything, “but it’s already late, and it’s raining heavier by the minute, so anything further will have to wait after the weekend.”

“So, take the time, go back, sleep on it, and if you still want to get involved with whatever this whole thing is, then, you know where to find me.”

Beomgyu can see himself stewing over the matter until Monday, but Mr. Kim has a point; it’s been a harrowing day of revelations so far, and with it he finally realized he’s actually grown quite tired himself.

Mr. Kim sends them off with a reminder to go straight home, and they add the teacher’s number into their phones, where almost belatedly, Kai points out he’s lost Soobin’s number, and all the texts too, as if it never exists to begin with. The only proof it was there is the screenshots Taehyun took on a whim, and later, shared on the group chat, ‘before it too gone suddenly’ to their silent agreement.

The rain continues throughout the night, and never let up even when the next day, and another comes, and Beomgyu is preparing for the necessities to trudge through the storm for school tomorrow when out of nowhere there is a heavy rumbling sound coming from the direction the forest is.   The sound is so loud, it overpowers the rain instantly, and it’s like he can feel the rumbling of the earth under his feet.

Later, he will find out that there’s landslide in the forest; part of the hill crumbles to the ground, and even sinkholes on some areas, to the bewilderment of the authorities.

Now, though, the sound stops, leaving behind a still silence on its wake.

Yet, from afar, he can hear it, a chime of bells, that reaches just the barest of his ears.

Softly, it echoes, as if signaling something is ending.

*******

On a moonlit night
The back of the moon turns away from me

If one asked Choi Yeonjun on his earliest memory, he would answer something like sitting by the terrace overlooking the garden on a warm sunny day, which was a surprisingly very vivid memory to remember. Upon further inquiries about why that scene in particular, though, he would smile, shrugged slightly, and that’s that.

he could remember the soft breeze, the colors of the flowers, and a man dancing about under a tree across from him, accompanied by a beautiful sound filling the area, so much, he could remember clapping delightedly when it ended.    

Except, he never could quite talk about it, for he also remembered his mother showing up from inside the house, crouching down beside his small self, asking him what made him so happy, and he was about to point to the man across the yard, when the dancer put a finger on the lips, smiling secretly. Still, he blurted out, a soft ‘uncle?’ head tilted in confusion, and his mother gasped beside him.

“Yeonjun-ah,” she began, eyes following his gaze to the tree, “there’s no one there?”

Four-year-old Yeonjun just looked at his mother imploringly, gaze switching between her increasingly alarmed face and the man under the tree, until he blinked and suddenly the man was gone after a short wave, to which he waved back, almost unconsciously. 

He remembered being constantly with people since that incident, -looking back, the family must had been keeping a close eye on him for that to be so-, though he still saw the man from time to time –he just had learned enough not to mention him to the others, as his mother’s worried expression seared in his mind.

And as if understanding his predicament, the man hardly appears when there’s others, but Yeonjun had grown used to the presence so well, that he can sensed him sometimes; like a shadow at the corner of the eye, or by the window on the other side of the room, and when there’s only him, the man would get closer, just a couple of steps to the left, but never close enough for Yeonjun to see the face properly.

Sometimes, when he feels bold enough, and there’s only the two of them -him and whatever this man turns out to be-, Yeonjun would speaks out, asking all the questions; what’s your name, who are you, why are you here, what do you need from me, why me, and he swears he can see the lips move, but nothing reaches his ears. And the man knows this too, because after he’s done answering -probably- there’s a small, resigned smile on the lips, a slight bow, and the man disappears into thin air after a blink.

Then, after some time, he’ll sense him again, and it’ll feel like all is normal again.

Perhaps, that’s what everyone thought too, for by the time he’s entering high school the elders of the family no longer looks at him like they’re trying to look into his soul or something, the cautious way his parents ask him about ‘the visions’ cease to exist, and he’s pretty much free to do whatever he wants, finally.

So he indulges with his dancing hobby, and acts as helper for the basketball club from time to time as an excuse to stay out of the house for as long as he possibly gets away with, and when one mishap of a b-boy move went wrong left him with broken ankle, forcing him to put a pause on all the activities, he walks along the school hallways, -with crutches and all- looking for something to give his time to.

Later, when he really thinks about it, perhaps, he’ll call it fate or something, how he happens to bump into Mr. Kim, who’s struggling with boxes and roll-up papers, and offer to help carry some, despite the teacher’s initial refusal because ‘the preparation room is on the topmost floor, it’ll be hard on you with your condition’, to which he dismiss easily, saying he needs to exercise and the papers can be slip on the crutches, so it’s not like it’s too much of a problem.

Perhaps his argument was convincing enough, or it’s due to the few numbers of people around, but Mr. Kim sighs, passed along a few and the lightest of the papers, though not before telling him, with a serious tone, to ‘tell me if it hurts or if it’s too much just leave the papers I’ll pick it up later’ and ‘just half-way through, or even less than that is fine, no need to tough it out’, which he smiles and nods at, secretly touched at how concerned the teacher is.

Mr. Kim leads the way and they actually make it to the topmost floor, passes the rows of classes designated for clubs until they reach the last room at the very end of the hallway, a white door plaque affixed to the door, History preparation room written in black on it.

Yet, it’s the one opposite of it that caught Yeonjun’s attention, for the door is ajar, with a chair against it, holding it in place, and from the open window the wind blows, sending cool breeze all the way to the hallway. Taking a step back, he cranes his neck to read the sign above the door, cultural research club emblazoned in brown color against the white plate.

Behind him Mr. Kim emerges from the prep room, and he passes back the papers, but his curiosity must be obvious somehow, for the teacher seems amused, and nudges him towards the open door slightly, saying, “it’s okay, he won’t bite.”

Yeonjun moves closer, and it isn’t until then that he sees him; a boy, sleeping on the desk by the window, facing the wall, sunlight hitting his black hair like a halo, and when Mr. Kim knocks on the door, he watches how the boy flinches slightly, before stirs awake, and sits up, half turns towards them, head shaking slightly, blinking away any traces of sleep as the gaze slowly clears, and locks with his.

Just like that, Yeonjun met Choi Soobin for the first time.

And when he enters the room, somehow, he knows it won’t be the last.

So, he joins the club, to the surprise of everyone, and he sticks with it even when his ankle has long healed, so much that all his friends knows where he’ll be if he’s not at the court or the dance clubroom. Still, somehow, no one really look for him when he’s there, something about it’s way too far and too much a trouble, though he knows it’s their way of supporting him, to which he is really grateful.

That, or they’re just happy to pass off his newfound interest in mystery to Soobin, as he finds himself tends to ramble when something clicks in his mind, though admittedly the growing interest in such topic came as surprise to himself as well. But then he’ll notice the man’s shadow nearby, and a part of him wonders if perhaps it has always been within him after all.

Not that it matters either way, when above all else, he found Soobin.

Choi Soobin, who admits he only join the club to find a place he can sleep in school, only to end up intrigued with all the journals, and spend time reading those and organizing everything just because he can; who is always there to hear what he has to say, and when he accidentally spills his wildest dreams, instead of saying anything about how plausible it is, simply nods, and smiles, before reaching for his hand across the desk.

As sincere as one can possibly be, he says, “I hope all your wishes come true, hyung.”

And Yeonjun, with the entirety of his heart, replies, “Yours, too, Soobin-ah.”

The blinding smile he receives in return etches in the corner of his mind, and there, it remains, like a long lingering image, even after all this time. Even when all he can feel is nothing but cold, here; where the moon shines far, far above where he lays in this lake, buoyed by the water around him, yet still grounded by gravity.

Usually, when Yeonjun gains a little of consciousness like now, he tries to trace back his steps, rewind his memory back, before sleep and dreams claims him again, but somehow, today, in this very moment, for the first time in a long while, there’s no need for that. For there’s clarity in his mind, and pieces of memories surfaces, like a puzzle, the instant he manages to open his eyes.

There’s the old journal from the Kim clan, and somewhere near the middle, taking up almost half a page is a sketch of a gate, and what seems like a procession; the people wearing what seems like hanbok, carrying palanquins and banners, but there’s no clear marks drawn, as if on purpose.

There’s the shadow that follows him since forever, wearing similar garment like the ones in the sketch, and appears the most vivid when he puts a palm on the page.

And then there’s the gate he found after following the steps of the dancer, standing tall in front of them, and all the rush of feelings, for he’s finally, after almost all of his life, able to solve the mystery.

That should be the end of it; the dancer had passed the gate, and the procession is leaving, but the bells chime echoes still, as one of the palanquins stops right in the middle, and translucent hand reaches out, beckoning him over. A soft, thin voice greets him, thanking him for taking care of one of their own, and as promised, an invitation is extended, to the garden beyond the gate, the scorched moonlight lighting the pathway ahead.

One step was all it takes, to fall into the dream. And it’s so, so beautiful, he barely feels the embrace of the water, sinking him deeper.

Yet, just before he fully slips away, he thought of Soobin, and wished he was there.

Unaware of who’s listening, Choi Yeonjun fell asleep, and night descends on him.

On the other side, the sun rises, and Soobin wakes up with a hole in his chest.

*******

So you can drag me through hell
If it meant I could hold your hand

The alarm from the phone rings, and vibrates on the side of the pillow, while the sound of morning bustles fills the other side of the door; hurried footsteps in and out of the bathroom, clatters of pans in the kitchen, and birds chirping by the window.

Slowly, Choi Soobin opens his eyes, one hand reaching to switch off the incessant alarm, the other stifling a yawn, as he pushes his sluggish body to sit upright, in fear of falling back asleep. Alas, he spends a minute just sitting there, mind barely awake still, before he walks out to the bathroom.

When he returns, he reaches for the uniform hanging by the door -long sleeve white shirt, black pants, blue black vest, and dark blue tie-, shoves all the homework into the bag, pockets the phone, and just, stops, facing the little mirror on the wall by his desk.

Today is just like any other day, and he is following all his usual routine, but somehow, he feels inexplicably calm, the usual nervous tingling on his skin gone, and he finds himself breathing much easier for once since a long while. Relaxing his body, eyes sweeping across the room for one more time, he reaches for the knob, and steps out. 

Breakfast is the usual quick affair, with the rest of the family had already went out before him, so he left the dishes to dry, lock the house, and starts making his way to school, walking down the straight road, until he reaches the curving fork, almost in a Y-shape -straight to the center of the town where their school is located, left is the road heading to the forest- marked by a big cherry tree, the branches extends wide, like an umbrella hovering above.

He can see Yeonjun today too; leaning against the bark of the tree, and Soobin almost calls out of habit before the other steps out of the shadow, takes the left junction, and walks ahead, away from the main road. 

This has become a normal these days, for him to see the boy walk away like this, and he will always, always just stand there, until the sight of the other’s back disappears completely, before he walks the rest of the way to school alone. He will see him in school still, at all the usual places, and they will repeat this again the next morning, despite everything.

Despite knowing full well this ghost is not Choi Yeonjun, no.

Mr. Kim had carefully broken the news to him, that Yeonjun-hyung is missing, and the police has been around, asking questions to almost everybody in and out of school, -which is not surprising since the boy does seem to know everyone- but it’s already been almost a month since then, and still there’s no sign of him anywhere, leading to all kinds of rumor and whatnot on what happened.

Soobin is infinitely grateful when Mr. Kim gave him the key to the clubroom, for he doesn’t think he can handle yet another talk of possibility of Yeonjun running away, or worse, murdered, but he had caught sight of more people going into the forests lately, so perhaps the angle of the investigation has switch to finding his body now, instead of a living human being. He doesn’t know what to make of this conclusion; it’s logical, but not a possibility he wants to consider, by all means.

Perhaps it’s that hope of his that leads to this, for suddenly, he starts seeing this ghost everywhere; sleeping on the desk by the clubroom, waving from the basketball court, skipping towards the dance clubroom, and the first few days it appeared Soobin thought he finally went crazy to hallucinate him everywhere, but.

Yeonjun once told him; about the shadow of a man at the corner of his eye, the dancer from his first memory, and Soobin might not have any experience like that, but he knows enough that bloodline and lineage can matter in a lot of ways for the ones that are not quite human.

They had tried to solve a lot of Yeonjun’s questions; and they might be lacking real sources on Choi clan itself -the matriarch of the main house is quite protective, though Soobin had caught glimpses of the youngest grandson in town, - but they are members of the cultural research club,   and it’s one of the oldest around, with a long and colorful history, being established just a couple of years after the foundation of the very school itself.

It took a while, but they went through enough journals to piece things up somewhat, and it wasn’t until Mr. Kim brought the journals from the Kim warehouse that he can see him, standing nearby but never close enough, and Yeonjun must’ve had realized something too on his end, for he brightens considerably.

He should’ve thought harder on the significance of it all back then, but there’s a twinkle in Yeonjun’s eyes, when he said, ‘it’s a secret’ and the hand was warm as he promised to tell him all about it later, that there’s no way for Soobin to disagree in the face of such happiness.

Then, suddenly the hyung is gone, and this barely look-alike materializes, and it took all of him just to keep himself together, until it was like a week since the ghost starts existing before his eyes.

He was sleeping in the clubroom when something woke him up, and he opened his eyes blearily, adjusting his sight to the darkness, and sits upright on the chair. The window was open, bringing in the heavy gust of wind, the curtains blown so high it reaches the ceiling. He noted with dismay that the papers on the table had scattered everywhere filling the room, some still floating about above and around him.   

He could feel sleep pulling him down again but cold hand was tugging his persistently, shaking him awake. And it’s Yeonjun, sitting by the windowsill, half of his body facing outside, and wordlessly, with a smile, holds out one hand for him to take.

And he would’ve grab it and not letting go, but the hand was translucent, and something about the facial feature seems wrong, that all he could do was smile weakly, and avert his eyes.

Still, it became easier to breathe since then, and somewhere in the corner of his mind he might have figured out some hints on things, but Soobin is not one with much bravery in him, so he stews the thought a little bit longer, do more reading for good measure, all while finding his eyes following after the ghost a tad more than he should.

He knows, that he’s setting himself up the more he lets himself loose, but even when he finds himself referencing the ghost as Yeonjun, he’s confident on making clear distinction between the two.

Except there is something about today, in the way the sun is shining down on them, and he can see Yeonjun’s dark hair glistening against the light, despite everything.

It reminds him of that time in the clubroom, the heartfelt wishes, and Soobin realizes; all he ever wants now is to not lose sight of him, and he would’ve made to follow with no guilt in him whatsoever, but there is a key in his pocket, the weight of it grounding him to reality, so, he takes a deep inhale, steels himself, and walks to school.

Today is the last day before the break anyway; he should at least let Mr. Kim know of his plan to go and find Yeonjun, but it’ll be bad if he finds himself stuck somewhere, so he should make a promise to the teacher, if only as a mean to ground himself back somehow.

It’s something told to him by his grandfather once, when he’s still way too young, but for some reason he remembers it all clearly still; the way the hand touches his face, and the words, spoken softly, like a longstanding prayer.

“There’s power in wishes; the more heart we put in it, the more powerful it is, while promises lives in the blood, for it connects one to another, so remember, Soobin-ah, be careful with all you wish for, and don’t make promises you can’t keep, do you understand?”

He had nodded, but there’s an almost sad glint in his grandfather’s eyes, as he said, “The old blood runs thicker in you than others in this family, and I don’t know if it means anything at all, but,” one hand pulls him over for an embrace, as if shielding him from the world, “if they truly appear before you one day, may they be kind to you.”

Soobin remembers asking who’s they, but the elder Choi said nothing at all.

And he would’ve forgotten it all, until he made that wish for Yeonjun, and the old memory flashes forward, like a warning, which he dismissed easily, for he knew he meant it, and still do. Besides, how would he, when the boy had wished the same for him, and Soobin might had no idea if the old blood power thing also ran in Yeonjun, but it doesn’t matter, now.

So Soobin goes through the motion, attend every class for the day, and once the final bell rings, goes to see Mr. Kim, who, after an imploring look to his face, wished him good luck, the words so kind, it warms him, like a charm.

And when he stands before the cultural research clubroom, he calls out loud to Yeonjun’s ghost by the desk, with as much hope as he can be, “Please, lead me where he is.”

There’s a flicker in the face, a blink, and as if it’s been waiting for such a word, it nods, and Soobin made to follow; out the school gate, along the roads, pass the big cherry tree, straight to the entrance of the forest, when it stops, turning back, as if asking for confirmation.

The sun has long set by now, and the darkness is intimidating, for the moon seems so far away, but there is a hole in Soobin’s chest, so, with a soft smile, he takes a step forward.

And he would’ve found him, for they actually reach the gate, and the procession had been welcoming for some reason, but Soobin had underestimated the extent of the promise he made to Mr. Kim, for it bound him to this side, leaving him stuck in some sort of a boundary, unable to move forward.

Perhaps taking pity of him, the ghost stays by his side, but instead of the uniform like he’s familiar with, he has a blue hanbok on, reminiscent to that of the shadow dancer, and Soobin came to a conclusion that they are one and the same, -like the origin of the existence- but instead of a blank face, it took on one he wished dearly to see; and perhaps this is what his grandfather meant, when he wished for it to be kind to him.

Together they watch the procession leave, and along with it, the entrance to the garden closes, taking with it the last glimpse of the real Yeonjun on the other side of the frozen lake.

Alas, time passes, and Soobin is still alive somehow, just in a different way then he supposed to be, and he spends his time in the cultural research clubroom, the key solid in his palm, invisible to reality, waiting for the procession to return.

Soobin would’ve waited forever, and he won’t mind it at all, but one day, there is a knock on the door, and out of habit, he calls out ‘yes?’ out loud, only for the door to open, and three students appear, meeting his gaze.

And when they start talking to him, as if he’s real alongside them, Soobin allows himself to hope, for he can see it, the power coursing through Choi Beomgyu’s veins, the protection light around Kang Taehyun’s frame, and the ghost has started to seem vivid again, clearly reflected on Hueningkai’s eyes.

Then, Beomgyu brings up the gate, and Soobin has no idea how he knew about it, but suddenly it feels like a startling clarity, as if everything finally falls into place.

That finally, all his wishes will come true.

Sure enough, from afar, the wind blows, bringing with it the chime of the bells.

*******

Even after one thousand seasons and
One thousand days
Come and go

There is a celebration in the capital, for the crowning of the new king, thus as loyal subjects, and a branch of the ruling family clan, the house had conducted a procession to march to said capital; banners erected, and palanquins carrying the heads and heirs lifted, accompanied by various members and servants of the clan with priority and honor to join such a march went to healthy men and women, as the walk will take quite some time, considering the distance.

The procession goes smoothly, and they walk pass all kinds of terrains; grass plains, lush meadows, forest paths, and no matter how harsh some road ended up being the march goes on, the chiming of the bells announces their arrival, asking for understanding to make way for the procession.

But at some point, one of theirs fell sick as they passed by a forest, -the main dancer for the celebratory dance they wished to perform as gift for the king- and as luck would have it, they stumble upon a gate, where they met a man from the Choi family. It’s a parting none of them prepared for, but the man solemnly vows to nurse the dancer to health, and if possible, send him in time for the celebration banquet. In return for such kindness, they promised the man a place among them, and with that, the procession goes on their way again.

Alas, something must had happened, for in truth, they never made it to the capital.

Yet, somehow, for them, as if a lie, the procession is still ongoing, even after a long, long time had actually passes by. Sometimes, they’ll think of the one they left behind, but the banquet is soon, and they dare not being late to celebrate the king, so they continue marching on and on and on.

And they would’ve walk on forever, with fervent wishes, until after what felt like a thousand summers, they met with their dancer again, by a gate that seems like one they’ve seen already once upon a time, but no one pays any attention to that, for there is a reunion, and it is a joyous occasion, so much, they are willing to take a short break, and celebrate the night away.

They call upon the dancer’s name, -Jung Hoseok-, and they welcome the man from the Choi family, -Yeonjun, he said his name was- but the promise they made were not exactly to this young man, so the exchange is not quite equivalent, it put a burden on Yeonjun’s being.

So, they let him sleep, with hopes that by the time he wakes they’ll be able to properly thank him, but there’s a name escaping his lips, and it sounds so dear, they decided to bring the other person along.

Now, Hoseok has been with the Choi clan for awhile, that he knew for a fact that the truth has been so distorted for all them, but he is still alive, somehow, and he recognizes the blood flowing in Soobin’s veins, so he volunteers to invite him here, with the hopes that it’ll help bring Yeonjun back a little earlier.

Alas, something holds Soobin back, the key in his possession links the boy to another on the other side, blocking the way, but it’s already too late to fully let him go, so the dancer decides to stay once more, if only to ensure that the boy is not lost within the boundary of time.

But perhaps he, too, had not been fully sincere in his thoughts, for emerging from the lake, like a culmination of wishes, is a shadow of Yeonjun, who gently pushes him towards the waiting procession, and taking his robe in exchange.

Just like that, the procession continues on, and this time there’s two they keep in their thoughts, the ones that remain close by the gate. Hoseok really thought they’ll wait for yet a thousand springs until the next reunion, but their time has been stretched too thin, and the moon is waning above them.

And when they found the gate once more, after what felt like barely a fraction of time, Soobin is carrying something much powerful with him, so much, the instant the frozen lake cracks, swallowing him, they knew, the aged-old promise has been fulfilled, as they welcome the two to their intended place, like how it supposed to be.

Perhaps, that’s what’s been hindering them all along, for by the time everything settles, the path clears, and from beyond the gate, they can see it, the moonlight lit road to the capital, finally, after all this time.

The procession takes on a livelier vigor, even when the rain falls down, the sound of the earth moving behind them almost muted from the ringing of the bells. And when they near a building that Hoseok knows well, from all the time he spent following Yeonjun around, the march slows down, considerate, as Soobin enters to fulfill the last of his promises, Yeonjun one step beside him, before they continue on far, far away from there.

In the History preparation room, Kim Namjoon is sleeping, only to wake up in a dream, where Yeonjun and Soobin greets him, the latter handing him the key to the clubroom, a brilliant smile on his face, and with a last bow, they send him their goodbyes.

The next time he wakes up, the sun filters in from the window, and he would’ve chalk everything up as a wishful thinking, but there is a key in his palm, solid and real, the weight of it grounding him to reality.

Outside, a new day is starting.

The authorities will deal with all the landslide, and somehow it will take them a couple of years to clear the area, but there is a gate underneath all the rubbles waiting to be discovered, and beyond it, they will find two old school bags, one right next to another, finally putting the mysterious disappearance case on that summer to a close.

Yet, try as they can be there’s no longer any bodies left to dug out.

It has long lost to the world, the moment they passed the gate.

And when Soobin’s hand finally finds Yeonjun’s again, all the fate is sealed.

Surely, all their wishes have come true, now.

*******

We can meet in the middle
Bodies and souls collide
Dance in the moonlight
When all the stars align