Entering the fourth hour of quiet sulking and procrastinating, Donghae readjusted the jockey hat he was wearing to completely cover his eyes, and kept laying under a clump of fig trees, somewhere at the opposite side of the village from where his house was. The sun had reached its highest point in the sky already, and the young man had completed none of the chores his mother gave him. Leaving the hilltop this morning, the brunet had somehow found himself driving randomly here and there, no intention or energy in him to run errands. Instead, he had settled down on the warm ground, the rich shadow of the wide leaves sheltering him from the vicious rays of lights and providing a good place for him to think.

He seemed to be doing that a lot lately... running off at unlikely hours in order to be alone with his tangled mess of thoughts... Chewing the tender stem of a wild herb, Donghae closed his eyes and allowed his muscles to relax. The deep lines between his eyes disappeared, his face returning to that of a boy's growing to a man once again.

Hyukjae's desperate proposition had left him sleepless the previous night, and equally restless the following day. Trying to be as subtle as he could, the brunet managed to convince his mother to keep the older man occupied in their land and send her son around the village. How he was going to explain the noncompletition of chores to the middle-aged woman later, when he'd return to the house, Donghae didn't have a clue. He only knew that they'd have to prepare for traveling north soon. To Seoul.

The brunet sighed. Peeking through the cotton fabric, he stared at the blurred sky.

I can pay! I could take you to Seoul...

Part of him wanted to run and tell everything to his mother so that they could leave one hour earlier. But during breakfast he had stopped himself and glanced at the older man, at his eyes that were screaming for him to make a final decision. Donghae had sealed his lips then, fixating his gaze at his plate and saying nothing more.

What could possibly be his motive? Why would he want to help us? Someone like him... a crooked man like that...

He grunted and tore away the hat, rubbing his eyes in frustration. That guy was confusing him. It was beyond Donghae's powers to figure out what could possibly be the reason behind that sudden burst, that wish to offer help to people who are practically strangers! His mother was always lecturing him to never doubt a person's kindness and goodness oh heart. That concept of undoubtful kindness was hard for the young man to grasp. He had tried and tried but then, his father died. And the doctors, right after offering their condolences, they produced a receipt of the treatment's cost off their long white coats' pockets.

So much for people's unconditional goodness. It's all a mask, covering their real goal: money. People are greedy, Donghae knew that. And that's how he was sure of the nonexistence of acts of kindness without favors in return.

The young man sat up on the warm grass and tapped his fingers anxiously on his chin. No matter which viewpoint he was examining, the brunet found no valid reason to excuse Hyukjae. Finally, he let out a long breath and stood up. Collecting his jacket off the soil, Donghae made his way to the car, his mind still troubled as he drove towards the hill.

It was midday by the time he reached the house. He was correct to believe that his mother wouldn't let him off the hook, not even after glancing at his sulking face.

 "Go outside and chop wood for the oven," she ordered the moment Donghae was done washing his face and hands. Hyukjae offered him a half-apologetic, half-teasing smile as he passed him by in the kitchen, his hands cloaked by dirt-covered gardening gloves - flowery patterned ones.

"Been pulling weeds out all morning, you lazy-," the older man grunted and playfully bumped Donghae's shoulder on his way back to the front garden. The younger scowled and shoved him away, Hyukjae's gummy grin even brighter since Donghae had accepted his offer. Annoying...

Swearing under his breath, he grabbed his own leather gloves and broodingly stomped his feet to the back-yard. Fetching his ax from the cabin, Donghae positioned a short log and ripped it in two halves with a single swing of his arms.

"After you're done, come take the washed laundry and hang it to dry," sounded his mother's voice as she peeked her head from the kitchen's window, narrowing her eyes at her son. The phone was in her hand, its cord stretched as far as it could go. She must be talking to the doctor - thought the brunet, and swung the ax down again. He repeatedly did so, till his shoulders were burning and sweat was running down his skin.

Pilling the cut wood in the cart, he pushed it to the kitchen door's porch, going next for the laundry. As Donghae was about to mumble protests concerning the task at hand, the sound of wheels rolling on the graveled front garden reached his ears. Assuming it probably was a neighbor of theirs, the young man minded his own business. Whistling a few half-hearted notes to ease his agitated head, he picked a shirt from the pile of white cloths.

"GO AWAY!"

His shout pierced the early afternoon air and caused Donghae to still and listen carefully, his features hardening. A few moments of silence and then Hyukjae's voice was ringing loudly once more. 

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Dropping whatever he was holding, the brunet bolted to the yard at the front of their house, his blood pounting in a defeaning rhythm behind his ears. Thowing the door open, he came into a halt as he digested the scene before him: a shiny, surely expensive car was parked in their land, a tall blond man nervously standing few feet before it. Donghae knew instantly who that person was, without even looking at Hyukjae's trembling form. His fists balled, his knuckles turned white. The man bowed respectfully.

"Hae-ah..."

His mother touched his arm softly, the wrinkles marking the sides of her eyes and mouth deeper than ever. The black-haired man's reaction had shocked her, for Hyukjae was nothing but good-natured since the day he had arrived at their home.

"It's alright, I'll handle this," Donghae whispered to the middle-aged woman and urged her to get inside. He had a feeling words were going to be exchanged that would make her worry more. Closing the door behind him, the brunet examined the newcomer thoroughly. His business suit was obviously slept in many times, dark circles and bags were adorning the undersides of his tired eyes, but a certain glint was keeping them from looking completely dead. The blond made a few steps towards Hyukjae, only for the younger man to frantically stagger away from him.

"Hyukjae..." he pled, desperation heavy on his voice.

Gritting his teeth, Donghae hurried by the black-haired man's side and pulled him behind his body, as if to shield him from his best friend and the harsh reality he had brought along with him. The brunet shot a calculating glare at the tall man, standing straight and puffing his chest out in an attempt to appear more intimidating.

"Get inside," he murmured to Hyukjae, who was gripping Donghae's shirt for dear life. Keeping his head low, his hair obscuring his face from Jungsoo's searching gaze, the black-haired man opened and shut the front door, leaving the newcomer with the unpredictable boy.

"I apologise for coming without a notice beforehand. I'm Par—"

"I know who you are."

The boy's icy tone startled the blond, or perhaps it was the forward way he used. Anyway, the taller man cleared his throat and tried again.

"I came here looking for Hyukjae. Some villagers down the hill told me a guy had arrived a couple of months ago, and that he was residing here." He stole a glance at the door and then back to Donghae, yearning to push him aside and storm into the house. "Apparently, there's a match of clues here."

The brunet snorted.

"So what? The only thing I know is that you're a trespasser - an unwanted one." He punctuated the last words, making it clear to the city man that he wouldn't get what he had come for without a fight... that Hyukjae wasn't as pleased to see him as Jungsoo had initially thought.

Sighing, the blond craned his neck to relieve the pain hours of driving had caused. His manners were border-line proper, and in immediate danger of falling to rude levels.

"Look, kid... You know nothing of what's happening back in Seoul. So, kindly get off my ing face and mind your own damn problems!"

Jungsoo shoved the younger out of the way, aiming to fetch his friend and drag him in the car by force if he had to. He stepped inside the house, yelling the black-haired man's name. Appearing in the hallway's entrance, Donghae's mother was wearing an intimidating expression, much like her own son's usual one.

"Who do you think you are, barging in someone else's home like this?"

Curtly bowing and looking her straight in her eyes, Jungsoo's jaw was tight as he spoke. "I beg you pardon, ma'am, but this is a pressing issue... The reputation of two great families is at stake."

Seeing she just scowled, the blond shook his head in dismay. "You wouldn't understand..."

Before he could take one step down the hall to find Hyukjae, a strong hand caught the back of his wrinkled but expensive nevertheless jacket, and spun him around. A jab was afflicted to his nose, sharp pain blinding him for an instant.

"OW! What the hell?!"

The taller man furiously glared at Donghae, his right hand quickly pinching his nostrils close to prevent blood from making a mess. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation, and the brunet answered by lunging at him and shoving him on the closest wall. The glass of the framed photograph of the Lee family shattered under Jungsoo's weight, turning to powdery dust under the man's heels.

"Don't you dare talk to her as if you and your lot are better, just because you live there!"

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