A?N: I'm reeeeally sorry for this late and probably brief update. I've been busy with other projects as well as some mental health issues. I'm still to this day over-thinking everything in existence so this is the most solid scene I can provide. This should hopefully start to paint the picture of Wonshik's situation. Currently I have several ideas but my issue is battling with which one fits the best. I don't want to throw off what I already established and I definitely don't want to leave this story incomplete since I'm so fixated on it. Anxiety is a real so pleeeaase bare with me T_T. 

Any suspicions or theories? Feel free to share them in the comments. All feedback is helpful. Please and thank you ^^

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“Shangri…La…?” Wonshik repeated in question.

His travel companion had grown quiet since he spoke the words, as if just speaking it into existence held all the answers in the world. Not once did he glance back at Wonshik after that. Did he even move again? Wonshik didn’t know, but he pressed further, questioning his rescuer as a strong sense of foreboding continued to grow.

Wonshik crawled forward in the boat, causing it to sway roughly. The strange boy braced himself, setting his ores across his lap and holding the wood on either side of him before quickly looking back.

“That’s not a good idea,” he panicked.

“Nice of you to finally speak to me,” Wonshik snapped back. “What is this Shangri La place and what do you mean by that?”

“The boat,” he insisted. “Don’t rock the boat. If you fall out you’ll regret it.”

“I know how to swim,” Wonshik boasted confidently.

The boy shook his head disapprovingly.

“Not against this current,” he said darkly. “You’ll lose yourself.”

A moment of silence passed between them before the boy turned back around and continued to row. Wonshik sat back, staring blankly as petals fall in silence onto his shoulders, disappearing against the pink silk of his clothes. Wonshik wasn’t one to quickly believe others, but he felt the weight of his warning. Something in his gut told him not to doubt it.

Yet he couldn’t help his curiosity. Wonshik peered over the side of the boat into the water, his eyes catching flickers of light that he assumed were fish like the one he saw earlier. They were gathered in large masses far beneath the surface, thick and misty like storm clouds rolling across a black sky.

His curiosity became magnetic as Wonshik gripped the edge of the boat, gazing deeply into the water. The masses started to fade, sinking deeper into the darkness. He wondered when they had gathered, having seen only one earlier. He wondered where they were going, thinking the river itself couldn’t be that much deeper. He felt helplessly drawn to them, as if the river itself was beckoning him, calling him down to join them.

Before he even realized it, Wonshik had leaned further over and his hands were slipping off the ledge of the boat. The water was closer to his face now, his bangs fallen down and brushing the wetness. Wonshik suddenly felt cold all over and shuddered at the feeling. It felt like everything else he experienced was a dream. The rain of blossoms. The sweetness in the air. That beautiful mysterious boy. It was as if he was already under, helplessly gazing up at the bottom of the boat, his hand flailing uselessly in the darkness as he silently cried for help.

“Wonshik!”

He was roused by the sound of his name and choked as his shirt collar tightened around his neck. He gasped when he flew backwards, landing painfully on the floor of the boat. The boat rocked roughly and pink petals continued to rain all around him.

Wonshik gaped down at the boy. He had fallen on his backside, panting while still clutching the hem of Wonshik’s blazer.

“I told you,” he shouted as Wonshik slowly sat up. “You don’t want to fall in there.”

“How…how do you know my name?”

When he finally caught his breath, he didn’t reply. He simply let go of Wonshik’s jacket and stared off in the distance.

“So, we’re back to silence, huh,” Wonshik laughed dryly. “Fine, if you don’t want to answer that then can I at least know your name? You did just save my life after all.”

When he faced Wonshik again, there was sadness in his eyes. Wonshik couldn’t quite figure out why, but he seemed almost guilty. After another long moment of silence, a soft smile spread across his face, fondness replacing the sadness.

“Jaehwan,” he answered bashfully, “My name is Jaehwan. There’s a lot I can’t tell you. But I’ll take you there, to the place with all the answers to your questions.”

“Shangri La,” Wonshik quoted him.

Jaehwan seemed pleased with that, a satisfied grin spreading across his lips displaying just how much.

“Trust me,” Jaehwan reassured him. “Everything will be clear soon.”

Wonshik took no comfort in his words, but opted out of questioning him further. It was clear that Jaehwan would tell him nothing, and by that look he received earlier, it seemed as if he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He was treading dangerous waters now. He could feel it in his bones.

Suddenly, a strong gust rushed through the atmosphere. It pushed powerfully against the boat, making it rock as a whirlwind of petals kicked up in a pink tornado around them. With it came a powerful peach scent, the aroma so thick that Wonshik felt overwhelmed and nauseous. He went into a full coughing fit, powerless to stop himself as he gagged into thin air.

Jaehwan calmly rose to his feet. Wonshik felt dizzy as he watched his height climb, staring helplessly as he came towards him. He was tall and beautiful, a striking form amidst the haze of petals and peach. He stood unmoved by the wind twisting his sash, the thin material of his robes fluttering against his skin as he stared down into Wonshik’s eyes.

“Hel…” Wonshik choked out, but was hushed when Jaehwan leaned down and touched his lips.

“No sorrow. No pain,” Jaehwan whispered into the wind, which seemed to echo throughout the whirlwind and in Wonshik’s mind. “Your transition will be a restful one.”

Jaehwan’s hand felt like a feather against his skin as it smoothed over cheek and slipped into his scalp. Before Wonshik realized it, he was laying backwards, sinking back onto the floor. Jaehwan leaned over him, his hand cupping the back of his head as he helped set it down gently onto the floor.

“No sorrow. No pain,” Jaehwan repeated gently, and this time it sounded like a lullaby sung softly in his ear.

All Wonshik could feel or think of was Jaehwan. The entirety of his being was engulfed by his presence. Controlled by him like a puppet. Soothed by him like a child against its mother’s . He felt sleepy and light-weight, swaying gently as the boat continued to rock in the whirlwind. Jaehwan’s voice was like a melody he couldn’t compose. Lyrics he yearned to write. A song in physical form.

Wonshik’s sense of self slowly slipped away. The world was coated in pink as millions of petals buried him, that sweet fragrance overtaking all of his senses like a strong peach scented incense. The song that was Jaehwan carried him off to sleep. His body felt like lead beneath the soft floral grave. His eyelids closed and his breathing slowed to a stop. His heart stilled.

Then all went black.