Youngjae sat down, not once moving his eyes away from the Eclair. Where he once thought the sweet treat as a hazardous item meant to undermine his way of life from the past fourteen years, he now saw it as what it was truly meant to be from the beginning; just that: an Eclair.

By now the Eclair was cold, if also spoiled of its taste. The custard could only be so long out of the refrigerator without losing its already soft taste and the bread, with its hollow, light shape, could only be so long outside of anyone's stomach without soaking in the moisture from the chocolate and becoming soggy.

Youngjae reached out with the intent to rip a piece off and taste for himself what a few hours worth of time could amass in terms of flavor  but drew back into the couch with a resigned sigh. If he ate it now, he feared he would give every plausible reason to defend what he knew was going to be a horrible taste.

Youngjae continued to stare at the pastry, his eyes beginning to water from the strain of not blinking. He thought a hidden message would materialize before him if he only stared long enough.

Youngjae blinked and the absurdity of the situation caught up with his nonsenical belief in the unimaginable. It didn't matter whether Jaebum had left him a note or not. Either way, Youngjae was going to continue living his life the way he had planned to from the very first time he learned that the world was against him. Youngjae stood.

Letter or not, he would go on living.

Youngjae grabbed the nearly week old grocery list tacked onto the wall in his foyer and headed out.

Youngjae had only planned on visiting the grocery store yet found himself surrounded by the familiar, picturesque sights from the greenery. One second he was preoccupied with picking out the ripest jumble of bananas and the next, he was standing before a wall of green— taking in the fresh, damp smell of moss.

Youngjae made his way towards the pond. He thought about nestling into the shadows of his favorite tree when the sound of rushing water careened over the deep, silencing stillness.

Youngjae's mouth fell open as he gazed in awe at the sight before him. The fountains had all been and were now functioning to their full splendor. The spouts streamed water to the rest of the system with the same intensity one would find a dehydrated man gulping down water. Youngjae knew who had turned them on, but what he didn't know was how Yugyeom had managed to do so. (And in no less than a day, too!) Youngjae shook his head as a sound of approval resounded in his throat.

He headed on towards the back where a thin strip of land was bordered by the glass wall on one side and a bulging tree root on the other. The strip had once been connected to the concrete walkway but had since broken apart when the roots started to push out and over the cracks lining the thick material.

Youngjae laid down on the soft bed of grass. It tickled every piece of skin that wasn't concealed.

He closed his eyes and as soon as he felf himself drifting off into sleep, an unfamiliar image played out over his eyelids. It was of his mother sitting at the kitchen table with a pair of sewing needles in hand. The room was doused in a thick, red hazziness that immediately struck him as what he thought the smell of iron in blood would look like if it could have a color.

Youngjae felt a trough of uneasiness wash over his body but he pushed it aside in favor of seeing the rest of this memory play out. His mother never ate at the kitchen table; much preferring the comfort of eating out on the roof where the Higan Cherry would bless her with its petals come spring and autumn.

Youngjae stepped forward. A  strange sensation coursed over his heart because while he was just a spectator to the events, he felt like the stifling air would drown him.

His mother looked up and offered a smile. She tried covering her leg with the damp towel on her lap but it was already too late. Youngjae had seen it all.

A thick, angry wound tore down the length of her left leg from about mid-thigh to where the bone in her kneecap juts out when bended. A succession of curves from the thread marked the wound where it was sewed shut. And where the wound had not yet been closed off, red consumed Youngjae's vision once more.

Youngjae could see the items that were all previously nameless and brandless—uniditenfiable. From alcohol to painkillers, the items flashed by before Youngjae's eyes in one quick snap. Just one second of crystal clear visibility and yet, Youngjae could vividly recall every last detail down to the tilt of the shadows. Shadows? There was no light in that room.

Youngjae's eyes snapped open. He looked down at his hand and pulled it up when he noticed how deep his fingernails had dug into the ground. He sat up slowly and gazed out over the plants, desperately seeking something that would take his mind off of the terrible image in his head. Whatever was troubling him, had been strong enough to jolt awake this dormant memory of his.

A low whistle filtered through the thicket. Youngjae's ears perked up. Anyone could have reason to venture this far back but not everyone had the willingness to step inside the greenery. That gave Youngjae reason to know who was here now.

Yugyeom stopped dead in his tracks as he walked into the clearing. "Youngjae," he said matter-of-factly before realizing that was too little to take note of. "What are you doing here? No, well, I mean to say how are you doing?"

Youngjae felt the tightness in his chest begin to ease off. He turned his body around to face Yugyeom.

Yugyeom's placid features contorted into a pained expression. "Can you stand up please?"

Youngjae did as instructed and in a flash, Yugyeom was at his side, looking back and forth between the area where Youngjae once sat and Youngjae himself.

"I think you killed them," Yugyeom said.

A shiver dashed over Youngjae's arms. Yugyeom pressed his fingers to his chin and stooped down. He contemplated the area while Youngjae mentally willed him to explain what he meant.

Yugyeom pursed his lips in an attempt to hide his bubbling laughter. "There were ten," he managed to say before his lips betrayed him. A boisterous laugh unfurled over the air, wiping out any desperation Youngjae knew would have otherwise submerged him if Yugyeom hadn't appeared in the moment he did.

Youngjae frowned as Yugyeom c