Oddly enough, the streets of Kyoto weren't as much occupied as they are during the usual day. The Americans are too quiet to tolerate, not that they were different from the British passersby.

And the tram serves to stop; tickets are provided with coordination to those who wish to mount, such as those who are of high ranks in terms of currency who can properly pay for a ticket or two. Those who are lacking the salary to buy a ticket, however, could only dream of using a single stub.  

The transit service is utilized all around Kyoto — mostly by foreigners — and I assure you that the Park family is not one of those lucky ones who have the opportunity to hop right in everyday.  

Jinyoung was a bit wobbly; his feet appearing unsteady with the huge stack of logs acting as a burden right behind. If he could just take the tram, he'd arrive at his destination in no less than a second. But due to the mishaps of his existence and his family's pitiful status in life, that thought had been crossed out for the longest period of time in his imaginary everyday to-do list.

Although it is just right that he should be carrying the firewood for today as scheduled, Jinyoung continues to defend his stand that the oldest brother should be the one performing the hardest job of carrying fresh wood all the way from the forest to the bakery everyday.  

But the youngest says otherwise.

Right.

Complaining won't get you anywhere anyway. He's just a bit upset that he gets to carry the firewood and spend an hour of plodding while his brother gets to help their youngest sister form the dough and assist back at the bakery.

With heavy steps, Jinyoung proceeds to push through the occupied streets. The bakery isn't far from where he is situated, but it'll sure take a lot of time to arrive when the burden is as heavy as an elephant (in which we could state this as a hyperbole).

And as if the load of his oppression wasn't enough, his foot abruptly impels through a small gap between the stone tiles of the road, causing his figure to severely stumble, almost hitting the ground.

Or not.

An act of salvation is what appears to have occurred when a firm hand hastily seizes his clothed shoulder, tilting his body sidewards without sensing the lessening weight of the firewood fixated on his back. It seems that his burdens were triumphantly caught in the midst of his fall, avoiding further trouble and injury in regards to the accident.

He mimics the stupefied expression of his savior, mouth agape and eyes widened, then quickly holds on onto her arm for support.

"Wait, let me just..." the savior trails off to help him stand up and fix the bundle of wood tied on his back.

"There we go," she says in relief after successfully placing his footing completely on the ground.

He pats his back to check the ropes whether they have been gashed due to the force, but fortunate enough, it seems that the ropes are tied tight and well.

"Thanks, Momo." Jinyoung wipes a drop of sweat from his forehead with his long sleeve. "What a blessing you're here."

"No problem. You heading to the bakery? I heard your sister's looking for me."

Jinyoung tugs the rope from his shoulder and nods once. "She's furious, you know?"

Momo shakes her head with a playful grin and chuckles. "Nothing new. I'm surprised she can even deal with us after all this time."

They both look ahead to where the marketplace is, squinting slightly to block the strong sunlight. Momo is the first to avert her eyes back to Jinyoung and continues, "We should probably distance ourselves away from the bakery when we talk, yeah?"

Jinyoung purses his lips and nods. "Definitely."

_____

It was an afternoon filled with bright light emitting from the sun, but the princess has not detached herself from the previous incidents that happened the night before. One moment she was completely helpless and impotent inside God knows where and now she's thoroughly aided by a kind-looking woman named Park Jihyo who also happens to be an owner of a bakery.

Not to mention that she's currently stuck in Kyoto, as the woman had stated. The palace is located in Tokyo where she should be right now, but it just can't be that she was directly transported to Kyoto the moment she entered that single bush.

And she is the princess. The Crown Princess of Japan. The Emperor could be out there seeking for her presence.

If she had mentioned her significance to the baker, would she have treated her differently? Brought her back home at the palace, where she is needed?

But then again, everything happened in a flash of lightning. All the scenes she had witnessed under one night...they are more than just fragments of a midnight dream.

It's just that the princess won't believe it. The bombing of Nagoya Dome appeared too vividly; she had felt the roughness of the ground and the tenacity of the air; heard the pulsating sounds and spoke her language with dignity.

And it's all happening again. Lying on a small bed, covered beneath a rough-surfaced blanket that air can hardly flow in between the minuscule holes like it was professionally woven rather than easily sewn.

This is not her bed. She is not located inside the palace. She is in Kyoto, another popular city in Japan. Her equations have been calculated to a fair point of unbalanced answers — answers she cannot accept because they are filled with absurdity and nonsensical to comprehend at most.

But everything is nonsensical. Mina should be experienced with these situations by now, ever since she had felt the throbbing headaches that had been occupying her mind to agonize rather than perceiving the symptoms behind the vexing excuse of an illness.

She pictured it once, that one day, she will have to live with the pain of believing things that shouldn't be believed. All the visions inside her head...all the coincidences that bewildered her no matter how concentrated her analyses were...they were considered false perspectives; she has entered a phase where reality plays tricks on her, letting her assume the most irrational cognitions that played the roles of comfort when all she mourned for was the truth.

Mina was sinking in too deep. She's in Kyoto, a city of Japan in where she dominates. Her mind shouldn't sway too easily, nor her heart shouldn't beat in incredible speed over the smallest of things.

The smallest of things. Like entering a shady bush from Tokyo and exiting only to enter the city of Kyoto. Or maybe she had stepped in the same land but that friend of Park Jihyo just transported her to Kyoto? Possible reasons have appeared, and Mina is willing to study all of them.

The more she looks at it, the more obscure her calculations were. It was nighttime at that, and by the way that area located behind the bushes looked, there were no figures that occupied the utterly dimmed zone.

Safe to say that the train stations were closed during that time. The duration of the travel would be extended if he or she took the bus, but nonetheless, Mina would have woken up in the middle of the trip if so.

But she never woke up after the violence that she had encountered with full abruption.

Found on the streets. Thrown behind bars.

The two notions opposed each other. The latter could have been a dream, however, this present she resides in is also a self-proclaimed dream. A dream inside a dream. A dream inside reality. It was either but Mina could not decide which one's authentic to live with.

Her thoughts have gathered, assumptions were thrown away when the transition of settings punctured her ability to swallow the argumentation of what's real and what's not.

The royal mind snaps the same time the floor creaks. Made entirely out of pure wood, the insubstantial, diluted planks of wood coated with nails aging of rust dips in a subtle manner. Sound of light footsteps journey alongside, and soon, Mina discerns the tall and thickly clothed body of a man (with an evident topknot) approaching her bed.

With caution, Mina pulls herself to the side, wrapping the blanket even tighter around her aided figure.

A chuckle is heard in courtesy of the man. He places down two black plates on the short table beside the bed.

"Don't worry, I'm harmless." He guarantees, placing both his hands on his lap after pulling the stool from beneath, the same stool that Jihyo sat on. "If that's not enough to assure you, then let me introduce myself."

He clears his throat, as if preparing for a speech, then places one hand on his chest while he extends the opposing hand towards the princess; a handshake, it must be.

"Park Chanyeol, Jihyo's oldest brother. I hope you're not frightened to see me anymore."

His dimples became the most significant out of his features, Mina observed, and finally takes his hand for a careful shake.

"Getting all those bruises must be traumatizing for you. Just so you know, we are more than happy to aid you." He says gently, until he stands up, buzzing with compassion when he offers Mina two pieces of bread and a bowl of water. A meal so simple, as a matter of fact, it may be the simplest of pairs for a meal.

No tea, no exorbitant preparation of a full cup of rice with imported sausages.

Just two pieces of bread and a cup of water, rather, a small bowl of water.

"This is for you. The bread is newly baked and the water is freshly retrieved from the river so you don't have to worry about getting poisoned." His smile is just as similar to of Jihyo's, both wide and endearing, somewhat comforting and takes away all the doubts that had been encompassing Mina's headspace since she got here.

"Thank you..." Mina's voice turned small, embarrassed under the kind gaze of Jihyo's brother. She gently took one piece of bread to take a bite then drank from the bowl of water next.

The bread was utterly filled with nothing but good taste; its firm texture breaking in through her teeth, chewed and then absorbed while the hot, newly baked temperature lasts.

The bread back in the palace tastes nothing like this. Mina wonders how they baked it with difference, unrivaled in comparison to the machine-manufactured pastries.

"I'm glad you like it," the brother chimes, clasping his hands together in front as the princess drowns in the delicious production of the bread.

She never realized how deprived her tummy was up until now.

When the plate was almost vacant, only breadcrumbs spreading across like peach-colored snow, Chanyeol immediately asks if she desires for more.

Despite how delicious and savory it is, and how Mina yearned to stuff more pieces in her tummy, her appetite always became the sole reason why her figure remained slim and exemplary. The ability to eat more only swallowed her energy to move, concluding to her laying in bed with a stuffed belly.

"I feel a lot better now. Thank you so much for the meal." Mina sips the remaining water from the bowl, feeling sufficient in terms of willpower and strength.

The bread is definitely worth it. The Park family's bakery is probably a top-grosser, enticing everyone with the crisp surface and the firm texture of their products.

"If you feel like getting up, Jihyo would like to meet you downstairs. She's been eager to talk to you." Even when he stacks the plates, the smile on his face never fades away.

Both Chanyeol and Jihyo have eyes contained with tender emotion. Full of leniency and concern, along with lips that carry the definition of felicity that made the environment surrounding Mina seeping with safety and comfort.

Mina wonders if the rest of the Park siblings are born with the same persona.

The wooden floor creaks again as Chanyeol steps a foot away, carrying the plates with utmost care.

"Chanyeol-san?"

Chanyeol stops. Pursing his lips upward, he answers, "Yes? Do you need anything else?"

Mina pinches the blanket. The temperature it emits it slightly warmer compared to a normal blanket. She studies the material for a while; maybe it's the color? The thickness of the woven wool?

"Are you and Jihyo-san perhaps...born of Korean blood?"

"Yes, we are." Chanyeol doesn't falter, because it's an easy question and Mina probably is having a hard time trying to understand why a Korean family is assisting her, letting her reside with them. 

"I see. Thank you for answering." Mina ducks her head as a small bow from where she sat.

Chanyeol turns back to the narrow staircase, until he faces the princess with the same smile but with a hand lifted to gesture a wave.

"You're welcome. Make sure to come down soon, alright?"

Mina only nods, reciprocating the similar emotion the Park siblings showed her.

There were more questions, endless questions to ask.

Necessarily their attire. It was the first subject to think about after her encounter with the two, observing how really hot it must be to wear such thick fabric under the burning sun and within suffocating walls with only the window to act as ventilation.

There are indeed so much to think about. So many words to say and so much time to panic...but Mina is no less than a princess of virtue, trained and taught how to think wisely under such circumstances.

She's just anxious, maybe. Hopefully, she'll be able to get answers and return to the palace safe and sound.

_____

The sun blazes across the sky, clouds painted onto the blue gradient like splatters of a paintbrush, and the stream below continue to flow quietly, its progression tending to the sounds of nature.

But there's just something terrifying about the atmosphere and the way the winds howled. The birds chirped endlessly, but the comfort they bring does not maintain the rising and falling of Momo's chest.

Momo sits on the edge of the rocky soil, legs dangling as she picks up a pebble from the ground. She tosses the pebble to the water, creating a small splash.

She should be fine after this. Her previous experiences were far more tragic, so she shouldn't feel threatened when the personification of anger decides to throw her off a cliff.

It was a mistake to meet here.

A strong pressure meets her shoulder, forcing her figure to tilt towards the flowing stream. She exerts effort to tilt back, forge an opposing force to keep her from falling onto the waters.

"You idiot!" The cause of the strong force yells with a passion, finally retreating her foot on the ground that pursued to push Momo's whole figure down the small cliff.

"Gosh! Why are you so obsessed about killing me?!" Momo complains as she stands up, brushing the rocky remnants away from her bottom. "And can you please lower down your voice? Nature is trembling because of you."

Jihyo scoffs impatiently because surely, Momo is a hypocrite of her own, taking in words that imply accusations towards her — somehow Jihyo calls her a dimwit for that.

There's always the single nerve that tells Jihyo to toss Momo off Mount Everest if she ever does mischief behind her back, certainly, Momo's previous actions were no mischief but more or less attempted murder.

Momo thinks otherwise because she has never tried to kill anybody for her own pleasure. It's an act of justice, she justifies, solely planning against those who act with more ersity than she ever did.

"How about you stop complaining and explain why a young girl is imprisoned in your creepy underground chamber?!" Jihyo places a hand on her hips, another scoff, and continues, "I was wondering if she ever did something serious but studying her face said otherwise. You clearly kept her behind those bars for your own arrogance."

"Me? Arrogant? How dare you." Momo crosses her arms and inclines forward, maintaining eye to eye with Jihyo who looked just as vexed.

"What happened anyway? Where did you meet such an innocent girl?"

Momo shrugs for an answer instead. She had no intentions on telling Jihyo the truth (the fact that she had once again written her name in the wanted section of the Police Bureau because she knows she's