EVERY LOCKED CHEST REQUIRES A KEY

She cruised through the labyrinth of vegetation, humming softly to herself a tune she had picked up from Wonshik, during their quiet walks. It had been two weeks since she first met him, and she had since been stuck in the forest, occasionally running into Wonshik, who would chat with her, or teach her a thing or two about picking fruits. Most of the time, though, they would take aimless strolls in the forest, with Wonshik always humming the same enchanting melody as he walked alongside her.

She had started to appreciate, for the first time, the peace and tranquillity the forest had to offer her. With finally a companion by her side, she had discovered that her inner thoughts had become calmer than ever, and she could at last acknowledge the beauty of her surroundings. She had always felt a need to talk to someone, but ever since meeting Wonshik, she found that she really enjoyed their peaceful walks. There seemed to be a silent agreement between the two, and she had since realised that it was not a decent conversation, but the quiet presence of a friend, that she had always been yearning for.

She would still meet the Wise One, who, to her dismay, had not been left behind in the boundless cavern that she had abandoned. He still spoke in an incomprehensible manner, but it no longer bothered her. She had a whole new world to explore, and a new friend to spend her time with. In fact, Wonshik's very existence had shown her that she was not alone in this unfamiliar dimension. She often wondered if there were more Wonshiks out there - more potential companions - and perhaps one of them could give her an answer she wanted.

"Why do you never smile?" she asked Wonshik one day.

"Why is there a need to," he replied nonchalantly. "You claimed that you were stuck here. Is there, then, a reason for you to be happy?"

"The old man said that I was once trapped in the Sea of Misery," she replied. "But since I've come here, I guess I'm no longer troubled. Not that I used to feel miserable per se, but I do admit I feel much more contented in here."

"I know you don't," he said, "not wholly, at least. Every soul trapped here has a knot to overcome. And I, too, am not spared."

"But I don't even know what I'm supposed to overcome....do you?"

He kept silent.

"Every locked chest requires a key," he finally said. "And you are gonna meet yours tomorrow."

"What? Who? How'd you know?"

"The old man told me."

"Why would h-"

"Tomorrow. At dusk. Under this very tree," he said, reaching into his pocket. He produced a small knife, and proceeded to slice a cross onto the bark of the trunk right beside her. Like an open wound, bright amber liquid began to ooze out of the cuts. She watched in horror as what seemed like lava crept down the trunk.

"That's plant blood," Wonshik noted as he watched her attempt to reach out to the strange liquid. "But don't touch it. burns. I learned it the hard way."

"And yes, such a thing exists," he added. "Wowed me forty years ago but you get used to it."

"...What, how many trees have cut - no, harmed?" she questioned. "And do people here...not age?"

"Age?" he scoffed, ignoring her first question. "There's no such thing as time in here. Days pass, the sun rises and sets, but really, you're as old as you were when you first arrived."

"But-"

"You sure do have a lot of questions,” he yawned. “I'm tired. Fire away tomorrow.” He turned to leave.

“We’ll be meeting tomorrow, then?”

He paused in his tracks. “Direct your questions at him,” he added, without looking back.

Who? Was Wonshik referring to the Wise One? She felt dread build up in her chest just thinking of meeting the old man again. Who was he talking about that she’d meet tomorrow?

She approached the tree and inspected the bark closely. She noticed that the cross Wonshik had marked seemed to resemble an ‘L’. The letter sparked something in her chest, but she could not pinpoint what it exactly was.

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“Hongbin, meet Anne.”

As Ravi directed his neighbour into the house, Hongbin looked up from the couch with a strange expression on his face.

“Anne?” he frowned. He noticed that their neighbour looked extraordinarily stunning, with curly, hazel hair and sharp features. “What an interesting name for a dude.”

“Uhh,” the man shuffled uncomfortably.  “It’s N. Just a single letter. Nice to meet you, Hongbin.”

“Is that a trend now? People getting lazy with naming conventions?” the younger one replied, jumping up from the couch. He turned to Ravi. “What’s this, though? Are we having a welcome party that I don’t know about? For yours truly?” He smiled smugly.

“Well, I was told you’d prefer English-sounding names,” the man replied, visibly offended. “If it sounds lazy, then Hakyeon it is. And no, I’m just here to borrow some novels from your brother.”

“Don’t tell me you’re Korean, too,” Hongbin replied, taken aback by Hakyeon’s bluntness. He rolled his eyes. “I’d not be surprised, though.”

“You bet,” Ravi scoffed, noting the tension between the two. “Hakyeon moved into town three months ago. His company back in Korea had posted him overseas.”

Hongbin shrugged. “Whatever.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as the older twin disappeared into his bedroom to retrieve the books that Hakyeon had wanted to borrow. Settling down on a different couch, Hakyeon eyed Hongbin, interested in the array of opened, half-finished snacks arranged neatly around the man.

“You play that game, too?”

Hongbin looked up from his phone, a little surprised by Hakyeon’s change in demeanour. The man stared at him with so much neutrality and curiosity that he wondered if he was the same man who had rebutted him a minute ago.

“Yeah. Been playing it on and off for weeks,” he replied, his focus back on the screen. “Finally reached level 76 last night.”

“I could teach you a few tricks.”

Hongbin looked up at Hakyeon again. Don’t tell me a nerd like him is better than me at this.

“My company,” Hakyeon started, “made this game.” He watched as Hongbin instantly put down his phone and sat up. “In particular, I was one of the chief designers.”

“W-what,” Hongbin replied. “Why would game developers need to work overseas? You’re lying.”

“It’s a secret,” Hakyeon said as he reached out and grabbed Hongbin’s device. He performed a few functions, but Hongbin could not see much from his angle. In a matter of seconds, he heard the exciting ding that accompanied every level-up. As time passed, Hongbin had heard the tone less often, the growing difficulty of each level frustrating him as much as it challenged him to work harder. He looked at Hakyeon, stupefied, the latter glancing at him with a smirk on his face.

“I didn’t cheat, by the way,” Hakyeon continued. “Merely accelerated the rate at which you were doing things. God, your pace was too slow.”

“Uh, what do you know?” Hongbin responded, uncomfortable with the comment. “If everyone did things like you did, you’d be out there in the streets begging for money by now. Your game would be no fun. Stupid and unplayable.”

“You make sense. But I was just proving to you that I know my game like the back of my hand,” Hakyeon replied, returning the phone to Hongbin, the words ‘Level 77’ large and right smack in the middle of the screen. “You’re welcome, anyway.”

“What’s going on?”

The two men jumped as Ravi emerged from the hallway with a few books in his hands. He was pretty sure he had heard them conversing in a casual manner, though he had expected that a cat fight be started between the two as soon as he had left.

“I was just telling him about my work,” Hakyeon began, reaching out to retrieve the books. “Thanks for these, anyway. I’ll return them soon...since the one you’re currently reading – I’m coveting that," he smirked. "I'll be back for it."

“You know what? Take your time,” Ravi replied, waving his palm. “It’s not as if I’ll be done with that book anytime soon, really.” He watched Hakyeon head for the door. The man paused by the shoe cabinet, eyeing the photo frame on it curiously.

Hongbin watched as Ravi’s face turned pale.

“You guys have another bro-“

“Yeah. Uhh...He’s dead though,” Hongbin quickly answered, averting eye contact with Hakyeon.

“Wh-“

“Anyway, my username’s RedBeans93,” he continued, raising up his phone for Hakyeon to see. “You can add me if you want.”

Hakyeon picked up the tension in the air as he watched Ravi’s face turn grim. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Ravi managed a smile. A cold, icy feeling clenched his chest. “It was time we kept that photograph, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Hongbin added. He glanced at Hakyeon. “RedBeans93,” he repeated. “Remember that.”

“I will,” Hakyeon smiled, reaching for the doorknob. “8pm. Tonight. I’ll be online. See you then.”

Hongbin watched Hakyeon’s silhouette dart behind the gate. “S-sure!” he called, but the man had already disappeared.

“He’s quite a cool guy,” the young one mumbled to himself as he sat back against the couch. He frowned a little. “Nahh, Koreans will be Koreans...heh.”

“Leo’s not dead.”

Hongbin whipped his head around to look at Ravi, who was eyeing him sternly.

“He is. He’s dead to me. Why do you still keep that photograph? Oh please, it’s time to move on from that jerk. You don’t know how much it irked me when I suggested to that dude that he was any bit related to me. Ew.”

“I don’t think he deserves so much hate,” Ravi replied quietly. “You were best friends since elementary school, after all.”

“And? It turns out that we knew nothing about him, after all,” Hongbin retorted. “He was just Leo – a three-lettered word he’d claimed to go by, along with that entirely made-up persona of his. Who knew who he truly was?”

“A monster, perhaps,” he continued. “And from the moment he decided to leave, he was no longer worthy of my friendship.”

He stood up, opening yet another packet of snacks, and headed for his room, eyes fixed on his game.

“And...” he added, before disappearing behind his door, “of your useless pining.”

Ravi stood dazedly in the living room. Strong palpitations in his heart threatened to rip apart his ribcage, and he felt a familiar icy grasp on his chest.

Sitting down and catching his breath, he reached for the opened book nearby. It should be able to distract him – from the unwelcomed deluge of thoughts and emotions – like it always did, or at least he hoped.

“You’re here at last.”

Her eyes shot upwards, towards the source of the foreign voice. He was perched comfortably atop a sturdy branch that hung right above her head.

“I’ve been waiting for seven centuries,” he said quietly, his gentle voice hovering above her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You are?” she murmured in utmost curiosity as she stared at the man above her. The setting sun cast long shadows across his face and made his long, narrow eyes sparkle. His long limbs balanced themselves daintily on the branch, and she wondered how he could have gotten up there without a ladder.

“I thought you would know,” he sighed as he leapt down from the tree, landing gracefully in the pile of leaves. He stood up and brushed the dirt off his long, white robe. “But you seem to have forgotten me. Forgotten us.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever met,” she frowned. “But does your name have anything to do with the letter L, by any chance?” She recalled the marking Wonshik had engraved onto the tree. Since the cutting, the orange liquid – or plant blood, as Wonshik had put it – had dried up into dark brown that matched the bark itself. Because of that, she had almost missed the tree - the designated meeting point.

“L for Taekwoon,” the man smiled. “And it doesn’t matter – it doesn’t matter if you no longer remember me. We have the world ahead of us, and all the time in the world, to become a unit again.”

“Uh, that sounds like it should start with a T,” she said, confused by his speech. “And what do you mean by ‘a unit’? Don’t tell me we were past lovers or something,” she scoffed.

The man kept silent as he approached her, staring into her eyes with the most gentle and caring look she had ever seen. He reached out and pulled her into his arms, to which she flinched a little, but nevertheless, she felt herself let him. Her body was frozen and she did not understand what was happening, but within seconds, she felt a comfortable sense of warmth engulf her soul.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered into her ear. “After all this time, you still look as breathtaking as ever.”

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