Next to SM Town, there was a small village called Weishen, and despite being in the Kingdom of Korea, had a Chinese name. 

Jungwoo was the only Korean in the small village, the others mainly being native Chinese or, rarely, Cantonese speakers. The village having no Koreans but yet being part of the Kingdom of Korea was one of the main reasons the two countries had tensions with each other, though the current borders have been established over fifty years. 

Thus, when Jungwoo met him, he was able to understand his Cantonese completely. 

His mother had been asleep and Jungwoo was staying up when he wasn’t supposed to; he often stayed up for hours, looking outside the window, staring at the moonlight if he had a nightmare, which is what he had been doing when he saw him outside. 

The man had run across the field at a frighteningly quick speed, causing Jungwoo to stand up to see what was going on just to see him collapse in the middle of the field outside his house. 

Now worried, Jungwoo pushed off his blanket from his lap and quickly opened the sliding door of their living room, making sure not to wake his mother up, when he sprinted outside to help the fallen man. 

His socks felt squishy as they got wet from the grass (it had rained earlier, which was really peaceful to watch) so he almost caught himself slipping a few times, but he managed to head over to where the man had fallen. 

It was dark, so Jungwoo couldn’t see his face clearly, but he looked a bit older, though Jungwoo couldn’t pinpoint it exactly. He did look familiar, though, but Jungwoo had no clue from where.

He bent down to look at the stranger’s face, startled by all the sweat and blood on him, when the stranger opened his eyes and looked straight at him. 

Jungwoo took a step back, startled, but the stranger held his hand out to grab him and looked at him dead in the eye. 

“Kim Jungwoo, age 17, citizen of the Kingdom of Korea, please help me,” the man said in Cantonese before falling unconscious.

***

“Sir,” Yuta said, knocking on the doorway to signify that he was in the room. He was hiding a wrapped parcel behind his hands, not that Prince Jisung was looking at him. “The owner of the Inn is asking if you want to have breakfast in their dining room.”

Jisung glanced at Yuta before continuing to wrap bandages around his knuckles. “If it’s not Taeil’s pastries then I don’t want it.”

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Yeah I figured,” he said, showing Jisung the parcel in his hands. “But I still can’t give you chocolate donuts for breakfast.”

Jisung instantly perked up at the mention of donuts. “The ones with rainbow sprinkles?”

“Sir, you need breakfast first,” Yuta said, dodging the question. Of course they were the ones with sprinkles, how long has Yuta known Jisung again? “Taeil specifically told me to give them to you if you’re eating correctly.”

Pouting, Jisung crossed his arms. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, it’s fair,” Yuta said, turning around to leave. “Let us know when you're ready to leave, your highness.”

Jisung sighed, grabbing his sword to latch on his belt and his dagger to hide before walking behind Yuta, following him to wherever the dining room was to have his breakfast. 

Yes, he knew that it was important to have balanced meals, having had it drilled it into his head as soon as he was taking private lessons (age three if you were asking). However, he has been way too concerned these past few days to even think about eating. 

There were people out there who wanted him and his family dead, but… who? He wasn’t dumb, there were obviously going to be people who weren’t going to like the royal family, but the whole assassination attempt was just odd to think about. 

His first thought had been a group of Chinese out to overthrow the Kingdom, but for one, the tall man who had attacked them was a Cantonese speaker, not Mandarin. Plus, there were talks about how one man was Korean, one who had appeared in the hallways with the same clothing as the Canto-speaker. Was it a group outside of the two Kingdoms planning to overthrow both? 

Of course, a small part of him still told him to stay weary of the Chinese royal family, but Yuta, his own advisor and personal guard, had confidently told Jisung that he believed that the Huangs didn’t have a part in assassination attempt, and Yuta was never wrong. Speaking with Prince Hendery didn’t help him clear any suspicions, but it certainly didn’t create new ones. 

Jisung tried to push his worries aside as he was led to the dining room, where the people in the inn bowed down to show their respects to him. The innkeeper came up to him and greeted him, and while Jisung was being polite and greeting him in return, he still felt like his head was in the clouds. 

Yuta stayed by his side at all times as they sat down and ate the lavish breakfast that had been prepared for them. He took a few bites here and there, tasting everything in small portions, but at one point he could feel his stomach get queasy, so he pushed his chair back and stood up. 

Yuta looked at him, surprised and worried. He had checked the food beforehand to make sure it wasn’t poison, but what if he didn’t try his best? “Your highness, are you feeling unwell?”

“Chocolate donuts would never do this to me,” Jisung muttered, clutching his stomach. “Sorry, I need to go outside for a bit, I think I need some rest.”

“I’ll go with you,” Yuta said, standing up as well as he led Jisung out of the dining room, the two making their way towards outside. 

The main social rooms of the inn were filled with people, causing Yuta to be on more high alert and wondering if he should call any of the other guards when the crowd of people split and they both realized why. 

Jisung reached out to have his hand over his dagger while Yuta on his sword as they made eye contact with Prince Hendery and the guards with him. 

Hendery noticed him as well and, watching his guards lift up their own swords, gestured them not to. “Your highness,” he said, bowing down. “I didn’t fancy seeing you here.”

Jisung glared at him. “Me neither, although I should have, considering how you recently told Chen Le and Yangyang my suspicions-”

“Your highness, who’s Chen Le and Yangyang?” Yuta whispered, considered. He knew all of Jisung’s contacts for safety reasons, so it was surprising to hear names that he didn’t recognize.

Instead of Hendery reacting negatively or defensively, he widened his eyes from curiosity. “You’ve talked to Yangyang and Chen Le recently?” he asked. “Is Yangyang better? He didn’t fall but he did faint for a bit the other day.”

It was weird that Hendery wasn’t going to say anything about snitching to those two, but Jisung was more confused on how he was asking about Yangyang. “Yangyang didn’t seem in pain yesterday when I saw them,” Jisung admitted truthfully. “It was actually Chen Le, he got hit in the shin with a hoe thanks to Yangyang.”

“He is a bit clumsy,” Hendery muttered to himself.

That’s when Jisung realized - Hendery wasn’t hiding something by dodging the question. No, it almost looked like he was speaking fondly about Yangyang. 

“Are you enjoying your trip here in Korea right now?” Jisung asked him, curious. “Any wonderful people you met?”

“Yes, definitely,” Hendery said. “I’ve been thinking of spending a few days here in SM Town, if I am honest, granted, if you and the royal family don’t mind. I didn’t come here to create conflict, your honor.”

Again, like Jisung said earlier - his suspicions were not being cleared. But like Yuta said, he didn’t believe that the Chinese royal family was behind the assassination attempt. And Yuta was always right. 

Jisung gave Hendery a small smile. “I see no trouble,” he said. “There’s a lot of wonderful stuff to find in this town.”

***

During the entirety of breakfast, Johnny noticed that Donghyuck hadn’t spoken to him once. 

To be fair, Donghyuck didn’t speak much during breakfast, just handing Mark food here or there, since the latter was too polite to request anything. He also answered any small questions that Xiaojun would ask him, those types of small talk people always did. Other than that… nothing. 

Johnny shouldn’t have been surprised - Donghyuck has been really quiet these past two years, keeping to himself, but he would at least talk to him. They were brothers, after all, not strangers. 

Donghyuck had been a bit more social since they came here, in Johnny’s opinion, but it was probably due to Donghyuck’s intense curiosity about everything. His need to explore big, unknown places was never satisfied since he never did anything. 

After breakfast, when Donghyuck finished helping wash the dishes, he went back to the guest room that he and Johnny were sharing at the moment, ready to spend the day locked inside. The usual. 

“Hey, Haechan, where are you going?” Johnny said, calling after him. He was the only one who used the nicknames they were supposed to be using during their stay here; no one else paid attention to it. “Hyuck!”

“I’m tired, let me read,” Donghyuck said, shrugging. “My mouth hurts too much to talk anyways,” he lied, closing the room door shut.

Yesterday, Johnny had caught Donghyuck and that Mark superhuman thing eating a dessert that they apparently made, and while Johnny did want to scold Donghyuck about it, the dessert, or more importantly, what it was caught his eye. 

He remembers his mom always making it in the past, but Johnny never had the urge to really eat them; it was just a fancy way of making an apple pie, in his opinion. He didn’t like apple pies when he was a kid, not even the ones Taeil did (not that they were bad, of course - this is Taeil we’re talking about), but he couldn’t help but regret not trying at least one of his mother’s desserts before she passed away. 

Yeah, maybe Donghyuck was in a sad mood because of that. Or maybe because Johnny yelled at him for being too close to Mark again.

“It’s good that Donghyuck likes to read,” Xiaojun said, interrupting Johnny’s thoughts. “You never really read in school.”

Johnny glared at him, scoffing. “I totally read in school,” he said, trying to think of the last book he had read. “I’m not stupid.”

“No, you never read,” Xiaojun said again. “You always told me how you hated it and wished Donghyuck would read more instead of playing games all the time.”

Huh. That sounds like something Johnny would have said. “He doesn’t really play games,” Johnny admitted. “He just… does his own thing, I guess. Maybe I’m too old for him or something.”

Xiaojun shook his head, stacking some clean plates to put away. “Nah, he just looks lonely,” he said. “It’s obvious, I don’t recall you ever mentioning at least one friend that he has.”

“He totally has friends,” Johnny pointed out. “He has Doyoung, he has Taeil-”

“Johnny, those are your friends,” Xiaojun said. “You have them, you have me, you have Ten, you have Si Cheng, and Donghyuck doesn’t have any. How is he supposed to be social?”

Johnny glanced back at the hallway, where Donghyuck had shut himself inside the room. “He can make friends,” he muttered. “Donghyuck can totally make friends.”

***

“I can’t make PASTA!!!” Jaemin screeched, frantically searching for a wooden spoon. “It’s burning-”

Renjun grabbed the spoon in front of him and stirred the pasta twice before setting it down again. “The water is barely boiling,” he said. 

Taeyong glazed at Jaehyun, who was busy working at his desk despite being the crack of dawn. “I thought pasta wasn’t breakfast food?” he asked the two. “Usually Jaehyun has some french toast sticks.”

“It’s not, I’m just in the mood for fettuccine,” Renjun said. “Did you get the sour cream, Jaemin?”

“Yes I did, matter of fact, I got extra so that we can eat tacos for dinner,” Jaemin said proudly. “I even invited Jeno over. His favorites are chorizo but no cilantro because everyone in this country is a wimp- hey, Taeyong, tell Jaehyun dinner will be ready soon,” Jaemin told him. 

Renjun frowned. “The pasta is literally uncooked.”

“Keyword, soon, Renjun,” Jaemin said. “You tell Jaehyun soon and he shows up an hour later, might as well tell him ahead of time.”

Taeyong opened one of the small cabinets, pulling out a jar. “Jaehyun needs to eat something, though,” he said. “Knowing him, he’s going to complain about not being hungry.”

He pulled out a couple of biscuits that he had made the night before and wrapped them in a cheesecloth, hoping Jaemin would eat some. Something small was better than nothing, after all. 

“At this rate, you have to force food down his throat,” Renjun said, shrugging. “Kind of weird, since he’s always preaching about healthy habits and whatnot.”

“It’s easier to give advice than to follow it,” Jaemin agreed before his eyes started bulging. “It’s sticking again!!!”

“Jaemin, it’s NOT-”

Taeyong grabbed the wrapped biscuits and headed over to where Jaehyun was sitting, clearly his throat softly to get the other’s attention. “I brought you something to eat, sir,” he said, setting it on the desk in front of Jaehyun. “You shouldn’t go hungry.”

Jaehyun looked up, grinning when he saw Taeyong. “Hey,” he said, looking back down to what he was working on - he had been screwing some stuff together. “I’ll eat in a bit, I’m almost done, anyways-”

“Um, sir,” Taeyong said slowly. “...This isn’t good for you, you know. It’s important that you eat something.”

Jaehyun looked up again, confused. “I’m good, really,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Taeyong didn’t break eye contact with him for a few seconds, almost as if he froze. “Fine,” he said. “Whenever and whatever you eat, I eat as well-”

“Oh, you really shouldn’t- Taeyong, that’s not valid, you know bodies are all made differently and require different amounts of nutrients,” Jaehyun said, standing up. 

“I know that,” Taeyong said. He did know that, having always paid attention to whatever Jaehyun taught him. “But… I’m worried about you, okay?” he said. “And you don’t seem to understand that and it makes me really frustrated.”

Taeyong turned around and left the room quickly, leaving Jaehyun to run after him.