Ishihara // ATEEZ ✔

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From the story they have heard and the warnings that come together with it, to some extent they expected an adventurous endavour. However, as they tread on the path and hike up the mountain, their journey has been nothing but anticlimatic thus far. They haven't even come across any other living soul, be it a person or a wild animal. It seems as if the birds don't even want to settle along the path they've treaded. It has been quiet; no significant conversation is exchanged between them besides the occasional question from Suria towards Bulan to confirm the location of their final destination. Suria acts as the guide because she's accustomed to the route, while Bulan tells her in detail about where the couple lives from what she knows. The two men follow behind them, their lips shut tightly. Bulan had wanted to work up a conversation with Seonghwa, to try and make an effort to have any type of communication with him. It proves to be hard because Seonghwa had insisted on plodding side by side with his brother - and the road they are on cannot fit in more than two horses beside each other. So now she's left sulking behind Suria, who's maneuvering her own horse, because Bulan does not know how to ride one. She is only left as a pillion, lips pouting and eyes darting over her shoulders to catch a glimpse of her prince, to which the said prince doesn't even glance at her direction.

"This is the last stretch we have to pass through before arriving there," Suria announces. She only makes sure that they're still following behind; she doesn't wait for their reply as she instructs her horse to continue moving.

The stretch isn't a long one; they find themselves stopping a few metres from a single cottage in under 3 minutes. Every description that Bulan has been telling them fits perfectly; there's a bench positioned outside just beside the door, hanging flower pots lining the sides of the roof, the cracking sky blue paint of the walls, the faded roof tiles and the small transparent area on the roof to let sunlight in. Although the house is the only one there, erected on a desolate land, it still feels inviting. That is why Wooyoung finds himself unmounting his horse, drifting over to the door, as if in a reverie. Whatever questions he had about his birth could possibly lie inside that cottage and he feels like he is in a rush to find out. He doesn't hesitate on knocking on the door, determined to end the mystery of his birth.

He feels a mild grip on his shoulder, and to his left he senses the presence of Seonghwa. As he looks to him, the older slightly nods as if to say, don't worry, I'll be right here. He gives a nod back, before focusing on the door once again. He trains his ears to catch any movement from inside, but all he hears is stillness. Maybe no one is actually-

The door swings open to reveal a young boy of around 7 years old, staring curiously at the guests in front of their door. He must have expected someone else, because he steps back and is about to shut back the door in a hurry. He looks scared, as if he's done something he shouldn't and he doesn't want his parents to find out. He is about to slam the door but Wooyoung hastily jams it with his foot, hissing in pain when it almost crushes it.

"Wait-"

Wooyoung is as equally shocked as the boy, because he feels like he's staring at a younger version of himself. Besides the fact that Wooyoung's hair is coloured in ash brown and the young boy's is black, they could pass off as siblings. Or maybe they are.

"Yeohan is your father not coming in?" a voice emanates from the inside of the cottage, gradually becoming louder as the owner moves closer to the door. It is a voice that makes Wooyoung slightly tremble, a voice that he has never heard but knows that was what he has been missing for the rest of his life.

"It's not father. It's someone else and I'm scared," the boy hides behind his mother, carefully peeking towards the newcomers.

"Who is it honey-" the woman stops speaking and as her eyes lay upon the young men, her eyes glaze over. She blinks a few times, trying to take in the faces in front of her and her lips slightly tremble. Her mouth is open but no articulated words escape; only a strangled gasp is heard. The boy hugs her even tighter and she crouches so that her face is of the same level as the child's, before instructing him to stay in his room until she calls him out.