A/N: I think I stressed more about the descriptions within this particular chapter far more than the content of all four of the previous chapters combined 0_0. (Worth it ^o^!)

…

Wonshik threw his hands up in defense of the brilliant sunlight as it blinded him. At first, it was all he could see or feel, just a warm hazy light that covered anything and everything. But it faded as the sun retreated behind rolling white clouds, endless clouds that blended into snow covered mountain peaks, higher than the eye could see. Wonshik blinked a few times, and when his vision came to, he was astonished by the bountiful beauty of the valley before him.

Wonshik found his sneakers sitting neatly on the stone step just below the floor. After switching into them, he ventured forth, taking in all the splendor surrounding him.

It was a true Scholar’s garden, one so vast and grandiose that it could have only been commissioned by someone great and powerful. As his bewilderment orchestrated his footsteps, Wonshik felt like a peasant trespassing in royal territory. It was like stepping into a place that was majestic and beautiful just as much as it was forbidden.

Small birds chirped, weaving in and out of the crowns of Manchurian apricots, pecking at the plump orange fruit that hung from its branches. Pristine water trickled down stone falls, flowing into narrow ravines that cut through vibrant flowerbeds. A cool refreshing wind breathed into the valley, causing the treetops to rustle and whisper. Short bamboo plants bent and their foliage brushed the stones beneath them, never breaking, just sighing and swaying.

Wonshik followed stone paths that curved around massive stones surrounded by various plants. He walked over wooden bridges arching over narrow streams filled by rushing waterfalls. He peered through banana leaf gates and intricate windows carved into high stone walls, framing various scenes and forming new pathways in the garden that made it seem that much denser.

As Wonshik followed yet another path through tall leafy foliage, he started to feel less like he was calmly wandering and more like he was helplessly lost in a maze. Every path led to a new area, with flowers budding just as colorfully as the last and trees with crowns just as lush sprouting overhead. Even the mountains he first saw seemed to disappear into the plush valley, which itself seemed like a world of its own.

Wonshik started to panic, forgetting which way he came from and not knowing which way to turn. He turned round and round, seeing nothing other than abundant nature. The house he came from, where was it? Jaehwan, where did he go after leaving Wonshik there? Was he lost too?

Wonshik was thrilled when he finally heard voices, wasting no time to rush in the direction they were coming from. The murmur grew in volume, as did the sound of rushing water as his sneakers hit a flagstone path that cut through a thicket of trees and led him into an opening.

Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind rushed towards him, almost causing him to topple over. He paused in his footsteps to brace against it, covering his head with his arms until it stopped. He grit his teeth while holding his ground, and when it finally ceased, he panted and slowly let his arms down.

The area was bathed in sunlight, shimmering off the surface of a vast placid lake. A stone bridge with red fences protruded out of the water, leading from the clearing to a large Chinese pavilion where people were gathered in merriment, some staring out over the water while others relaxed and sipped tea. The sky was mirrored perfectly in the water’s surface, making the thin where the images met seem like the edge of the world.

Wonshik could tell that the bridge went on past that, but it was covered in a heavy mist and no one seemed to be returning from that direction. He gazed up into the mist, and in parts where it broke he could barely see the rocky slopes of mountains. Just like the ones he first saw, they reached high into thick white clouds, the pristine snowy peaks once again disappearing into them.

Wonshik’s stomach clenched and he found himself shivering, as if his mind had lifted him up into the cold unknown. He took it as a sign not to wander there. Seeing as his gut was the only reliable thing he had, he took a note of it and turned his gaze back down to the pavilion.

Wonshik started towards it, noticing that not only was the bridge coming from the two points he noted already, but from the left and right as well, creating a cross-like shape that stretched across the expanse of the lake with the building at its center. To the right, it came to another clearing, narrowing into a path that cut through more trees and a seemingly deep forest. And to the left, it led to a large traditional house, surrounded by a stone wall with a garden that flourished as abundantly and beautifully as the one he had emerged from.

Wait. If that’s the house that I came from, then how?

Wonshik glanced behind him and was startled when his eyes met with a misty cloud. In the few steps he’d taken, the valley became lost somewhere in the thick gray veil, making it seem miles away from where he now stood. When Wonshik focused forward, the pavilion was much closer and larger than he recalled, and the faces of countless strangers became more defined as he drew nearer.  

An elderly woman dressed in a pink and purple hanbok played hand games with small children, smiling warmly as they clapped along. A guy who looked around his age was talking with a middle-aged man dressed in a business suit. They looked like father and son, pointing as they watched red and golden koi rise and sink from the surface of the lake

Wonshik felt a twinge in his chest, something like envy washing over him. He never had such trivial yet affectionate interactions with his father, but instead merely grunts and grumbles behind a newspaper at a dead silent breakfast table.

Wonshik shook the thought from his mind. He could deal with having no relationship with that man. He could deal with being his puppet. But he couldn’t deal with how he treated his mother. If he had to keep living a lie just to save her from ever feeling pain again, then he would do it in a heartbeat. He needed to find his way back home, if not for himself, then for her.

With that conviction in mind, Wonshik entered the busy pavilion and started his inquiries. First, he tried a couple drinking tea, asking them about the place. They simply stared at him, shrugged their shoulders, then went back to sipping their tea and fawning over each other. He went to the father and son next, the older man turning once he tapped him on the shoulder.

“Can I help you, young man?”

“Ah, yes,” he replied politely. “Do you know what this place is, ahjussi?”

“Why, yes. This place is…”

The man had a complacent look on his face, like there was some sort of inner tranquility he had come to that could never be disturbed. His son turned to Wonshik smiling contently, but there was something distant in his eyes that made him look lost, like even he wasn’t sure about what he was about to say.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked with a mystified expression.

The man put his hand on his son’s shoulder before the two returned to their nature viewing.

Okay. That was…weird, thought Wonshik.

A chill traveled along Wonshik’s spine. That same eerie feeling he had back in his room. That feeling lingered as he went from one stranger to another, desperately asking them questions, hoping that even one answer would lead him home; but it was useless. Some seemed aware of themselves, like they knew where they were but simply refused to let him in on the secret. While others looked out-right high, like they were given some grade A stash that made them feel like not a single thing in the world could bring them down.

Wonshik leaned his back against a wall and sighed. He had enough of this, going from one person then another without a clue. He suspected that if he headed into that house that the same thing would happen and he’d end up right back at square one. The people coming from the house had those same blissed out expressions, as if they just had some mind-blowing and never came down from their post-coital high.

It was almost as if none of the mystery surrounding them could penetrate their happiness. Like that misty beyond wasn’t looming over them, or that they had navigated and triumphed over it. Only few seemed as lost as him, people from all walks of life emerging from the same place that he did, weaving in and out of the pavilion and that large house looking as lost as he felt.

Wonshik glanced to the east of the building, staring into the thicket of trees with curiosity. Perhaps he could find something there that would lead him back. Without hesitation, he crossed the bridge and pushed through the trees, finding himself surrounded by thick overgrowth within minutes of wandering. As twigs cracked beneath his sneakers and sharp branches grabbed at any loose parts of his clothing, it occurred to him that maybe no one checked here because it was impossible to navigate. There was no clear path, and with every step it seemed as if the treetops covered more and more of the sky. He couldn’t tell where was left or right, nor was it evident what direction he had come from.

Once again, Wonshik was lost.

A sudden rustle jolted him in one direction, and through a human-sized opening he could see some sort of architecture. He pushed through and emerged in front of a red Shinto gate, beyond which stood a grove of bamboo trees. The sun broke through easily, sending streams of hazy light through the tall green shoots that pierced the sky, decorating the clear cut path with yellow dots.

Wonshik was in awe of the simplistic yet ethereal scenery. It wasn’t lush like the garden he had wandered through, nor did it capture the same aesthetics as the lake he crossed to get here. This place was foreign to everything else, just a path weaving through endless green that seemed like it could go on for an eternity.

Wonshik soon discovered a trail turning off of the main path and carefully shifted between the thick green stalks to follow it. As he walked he tried searching his memory for clues, anything that could give him a hint as to where he’d come from and how he got to this mysterious place. But all he could find was Jaehwan, a boy who had clouded his mind with a beautiful smile and the aroma of peaches.

He started to wonder if he was drugged, and if this fantastical place was just a better dream after his initial nightmare. He pinched himself, wincing when he felt the all too real pain.

Nope, not a dream.

Wonshik groaned and mussed his hair. If this is real, then what was this place? A place that no longer felt like Seoul. A place far removed from the bustling streets and bitter aroma of coffee. A place devoid of electronic screens and high fashion boutiques. A place that felt like a whole different dimension entirely.

A voice broke his train of thought, making Wonshik stop in his tracks. He pondered if that too was his imagination, until the voice went up a pitch, a cracked moan that would be silenced by the wind if not for his close proximity to it. Wonshik perked up and rushed ahead. Perhaps out in this wilderness, this stranger was also seeking refuge, struggling to find his way home. Panic started to replace his relief as the voice sounded choked, as if in pain. The growth of trees thickened as he went and he had to climb over and duck under fallen bamboo shoots that crossed his path.

He trekked to where the dirt path stopped and found a narrow opening. As he followed the hall of bamboo, the voice became louder, and another rose in volume to join it, coming out in husked whispers as the other whimpered. Wonshik’s feet continued to move and the hall of trees widened, but his stomach started to twist as he came to the sudden realization that the first voice he heard was not one of pain, but of pleasure.