Equinox (for darkyulate) [2/3]

[criticalcapture]

♚ The only sign Joonmyun leaves of his departure is a note, rolled up neatly on his desk, complete with a wax seal. The servants will find it, he's sure, and then his parents will know, but it'll already be too late to bring him and Jongdae back. Joonmyun figures they'd expected him to do this anyway. They leave just as the sun starts to rise and the halls are still a gloomy grey, the whole palace quiet and peaceful. Jongdae takes his shoes off so he's walking in just socks—the heels click too loudly, make it too obvious where they are. Joonmyun follows his example. It's actually not as hard as they expect to get to the stables, even with heavy bags on their backs and both of them tripping multiple times on the way there. Socks is already wide awake when they arrive, looking at Joonmyun and blinking slowly, as if she's been expecting them. Joonmyun chuckles and whispers, patting her neck, "How'd you know?" Socks fidgets a bit under his hands, and he grins. "Hurry, hurry. I know." Jongdae's ready with May by the time Joonmyun's heading out of the stables, following closely behind. Joonmyun leads them on a roundabout path through the gardens and around the side of the castle, and then they head for the gate. The guard there is usually sleeping at this hour, so they'll get through without much trouble. But when they get there, it's not the guard sleeping at his post like usual. Instead, Yifan is sitting just outside the gate atop his own horse, carrying a small bag. "Yifan?" Joonmyun says, slowing to a stop. "What are you doing here?" Next to him, Jongdae has stiffened. He glances between Joonmyun and Yifan worriedly, nervously. But Yifan's been Joonmyun's personal guard for years. Joonmyun can't even imagine Yifan doing something to jeopardize something he knows must be important to Joonmyun—important enough to sneak out of the castle in secret, at least. "You're going to travel for days and days, all alone, Your Highness. It's dangerous," Yifan points out. "So I'm coming with you." "But… how'd you know we were going in the first place?" Jongdae asks. Joonmyun and Yifan exchange a look. "I always know." When Jongdae gives him a confused look, Joonmyun shrugs. "It's not like we were trying to be discreet about it or anything. Yifan picks up on things." "I am prepared, Your Highness," Yifan says, gesturing to the bag in his hand. "Shall we go?" Joonmyun glances over at Jongdae, tries to give him a reassuring look, and then nods. "Yes. Let's." ♚ Joonmyun's not sure why he hadn't asked Yifan to come with them earlier—having worked as a messenger for the palace for years, Yifan knows Saira's surrounding areas like the back of his hand. And it's good to have a familiar presence here. As much time as he's spent with Jongdae, it's still nice to be with someone he's comfortable with, someone he's already spent a few years with. Yifan guides them past the quiet streets of the town, on a route that takes them around the houses or open fields with early risers already at work, hopefully away from prying eyes. It's a long way around, but at least this way they won't stir up any commotion—Joonmyun hadn't considered that people would be awake this early. There are a lot of things about this Joonmyun hadn't thought about, actually. Maybe spontaneity isn't exactly for him. They reach the west gate after another fifteen minutes or so of weaving between squat houses and a few large estates, and Joonmyun casts one last look behind him before he follows after Yifan and Jongdae, who have already passed through. There's no guard here right now—Yifan's doing, probably. The west gate is a bit higher up, so it's easy to see most of the kingdom from here, clusters and clusters of houses and manors and fields, and then in the distance, right in the middle of it all, the palace. It's more like a castle, really, since it's centuries old and looks sort of like one, but there's been peace in all the surrounding kingdoms for so many decades, so Joonmyun's grandmother remodeled most of it fifty or so years ago, and so it has stayed. He can see the garden in the back from here, so tiny from here, but he still remembers the way he used to think it was so, so big. The palace was his whole world, and now— "Joonmyun?" Jongdae calls from the gate. "What are you waiting for?" Joonmyun turns back towards him and shakes his head, and follows through the gate without another glance. "Nothing. Sorry I kept you waiting." Jongdae gives him a look. Not one of his irritated ones, or the ones he gives when Joonmyun does something strange, or—well, anything he's done before, but it's… something softer. But it's there for just a fleeting moment and then it's gone, so fast Joonmyun isn't sure he ever really saw it. They make their way onto the path ahead. It disappears into the woods beyond the gate, dark even as light starts to filter through the leaves and birds flit from tree to tree, singing little snatches of songs Joonmyun barely catches. It's a little scary, unfamiliar, but listening to the sounds of their horses' steps and the birds' songs, breathing in the sweet spring air, Joonmyun thinks he just might like this. Around midday, they stop in a small clearing to have lunch; Joonmyun's got dried meat, fruits, and bread from home, and a few perishable things, which they share. It's not up to his usual fare at the palace, but it's not terrible. A few hours later, the path through the woods opens up into a flat expanse of land, bare but for the path that leads so far off into the distance they can't see the end of it. Jongdae sidles up to him, leading May over with gentle hands. "So," he starts. "We've spent a lot of time together, but we still haven't gotten to know each other. Not really." "Okay, uh…" Joonmyun pauses to think. "What's your favorite color, then?" "Orange. Come on," Jongdae teases, "you can do better than that." "Fine," Joonmyun laughs, considering. "Tell me a sad story about yourself." Jongdae thinks about it for a moment, and then he begins. "So when I was younger, like ten or twelve maybe, I had the hugest crush on this girl in my class. She was visiting for a couple of months with her father. We were pretty good friends, actually, and the better I knew her, the more I liked her. And I'd pour my heart out into these awful, awful poems I'd write for her, but I never got up enough courage to give them to her. Or tell her how I felt." He pauses. "And then?" Joonmyun prods. "And then," says Jongdae slowly, pausing for dramatic effect, "she died." "You can't be serious," Joonmyun says after a beat. Jongdae grins. "I'm not. You didn't say it needed to be true." "Oh my god," Joonmyun splutters indignantly. "So none of that was true. You—" "Okay, most of it was true," Jongdae admits, "just not the dying part. What really happened was she left, and then I never saw her again. And I never got to say anything or give her the poems—but I should probably be glad I didn't, in hindsight. Still, though. It seemed like the end of the world, but… Whatever. Tell me a happy story, since I just told you a sad one." Joonmyun has to think about this for a bit, too, before he settles on something that brings a smile to his face just thinking about it. "The first time I met Yifan, then," he decides. "I was thirteen, I think, so he was still a messenger, and he came to my room to bring me something—I don't remember what." "Something you left in the library," Yifan chips in from behind them. "Right, I used to be so forgetful." At "used to be," Yifan raises an eyebrow, but mercifully says nothing. "Anyway, I realized I didn't know where my gloves were. Yifan and I were frantic, because I didn't have gloves on and they were gloves handed down from my ancestors, so we tore through my room looking for it until it was so messy we couldn't see the floor anymore. And Yifan ended up sticking paper bags over my hands because he was scared he'd touch them, so I was walking around with two paper bags on my hands while we tried to look for stuff, and it was just—crazy. And it was kind of fun, actually, as scared as we were. We found the gloves under a towel in the bathroom, and after that I think we were friends. Right, Yifan? That's why you're my guard now." Yifan nods. "Yes, Your Highness. The Queen said she trusted your judgment." Jongdae's grinning right along with Joonmyun (though Yifan's face is still as passive as before). "I'm imagining you running around and panicking with paper bags over your hand," he snorts. "It's such a funny thought." "I probably looked ridiculous," Joonmyun says. "But it wouldn't be as good a memory if I didn't." "But your gloves," Jongdae starts, and then stops, looking down at the gloves. "How come you're still wearing them? Since you've already held my hand. They don't really have a use anymore, right?" "I guess not," Joonmyun agrees. Actually, he hadn't really thought about it—as hot as it is, he's gotten so used to the feeling of wearing a glove, it's almost second nature. "I should probably take them off, shouldn't I? They might draw too much attention in the towns we stop by, anyway." The gloves go into a saddlebag, carefully folded so the fabric won't crease too much, and Joonmyun spends the rest of the day getting used to the feel of his bare hands on Socks's reins and combing through her mane, or the way his hands finally don't feel like they're being suffocated and trapped inside fabric for once. It'd been an easy feeling to get used to, even in summer, but now that he's gotten to spend some time with them off, he doesn't ever want to put those gloves back on. Freedom for his hands at last. They reach a small town sometime in the night, when the sun has long since set. Joonmyun's thought about stopping for the night for the last couple of hours, since it's so dark, but the town is close enough that he, Jongdae, and Yifan decided it was close enough to keep going on. Three separate rooms at a hostel barely even cost a few coins, and they're all exhausted enough that they skip the lady at the front's invitation to go to the bar in favor of heading to their rooms to sleep. Joonmyun, though, finds himself restless, even though he's just as tired as Jongdae and Yifan—somehow, his mind won't shut off, and he keeps on thinking about what he's done, what he's doing, what he's going to do, how he's going to do it… It's endless, stressful, and no matter what he tries he finds he can't fall asleep here. He's never slept somewhere so unfamiliar before, in a bed that isn't his own. It's hard, too, not to think about the way the room smells faintly of dust and something strange, how the stiff sheets of the bed beneath him chafe at his skin, and how he's pretty sure there must be at least fifteen bugs hiding under the bed; it keeps him awake for what feels like hours and hours until he can't take it anymore. His legs take him out of his room and straight to Jongdae's like they have a mind of their own, and Joonmyun hesitates before he knocks on Jongdae's door. This is… embarrassing. He knocks again, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as he waits for someone to come. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, maybe— "Hey," Jongdae mumbles sleepily, opening the door just a little as he squints against the lights coming from the lanterns in the hall. "What's happening?" "I just—uh," Joonmyun says, looking at the ground. "I couldn't sleep, so I was wondering if, maybe… I could sleep here? With you?" "Oh," Jongdae says. He shrugs. "Sure. Come in." Jongdae's bed is just as uncomfortable as the one in Joonmyun's room, and for a moment, he wonders why he even came here. But Jongdae smells a little like home, after spending a few weeks in the palace,and somehow still there's that lingering scent that's clung to him since Joonmyun first met him, light and faintly sweet. Spring. It's the smell of spring. And that's not much like the palace, but it's… Jongdae. Joonmyun doesn't know what that means, but he finds himself relaxing anyway, listening to the sound of Jongdae's breaths slowing from an uncomfortable arm's length away. And slowly, Joonmyun finds himself falling asleep with him. ♚ It's bright out when Joonmyun wakes; he tries to move a hand to block the sunlight from his eyes, but he finds he can't—someone's arms are wrapped firmly around his chest, pinning his own arms in place. Jongdae. Right. He's in Jongdae's room. In the midst of trying to extricate himself from Jongdae's grasp, Jongdae stirs. "What," he whines, shifting and tightening his grip on Joonmyun even further. "Um, Jongdae—" Joonmyun starts. Jongdae opens his eyes a crack, peering up at him from where his head lies pillowed on Joonmyun's shoulder. It takes a moment, but suddenly Jongdae's eyes open wide and he clumsily pulls himself off of him, staring resolutely at the sheets as he mumbles, "Sorry." "It's okay," Joonmyun says, and he wonders why it feels so much like it's not. Like there's something more than just discomfort in the air, but—whatever. He needs to get dressed. They meet Yifan in the dining room a few minutes later. His plate is already empty—he always is awake early, and by now it must be nearing noon. It's ten or eleven now, maybe. "So we'll keep heading west," Jongdae says through a mouthful of porridge. Joonmyun gives him a look, but Jongdae doesn't notice, seemingly too absorbed in eating to care about manners. At least this isn't the palace. "And then where do we go?" "It's only a couple of days to Owan, isn't it, Yifan?" Joonmyun asks. He eats his food properly, bringing the spoon in his hand to his lips slowly and carefully, so as not to spill a drop. "Yes, You—" Yifan begins, and then cuts himself off. He's decided to drop the "Your Highness" in public places, so as not to attract attention, but it seems like a difficult adjustment. "Yes. There is another town a few hours from here, and then Owan is a day and a half away. We can either stay at the town and spend a little longer on the trip, or—" "Yifan?" someone calls. "Is that you?" Joonmyun looks over Yifan's shoulder to see a man with light hair and clothes vaguely resembling Yifan's walking over with a grin on his face. He's almost as tall as Yifan. Joonmyun resents that. "Zitao!" Yifan says. Well. That's a tone Joonmyun has never heard him use. It's so… cheery. "It's been so long!" "Hasn't it?" Zitao slings an arm around Yifan's shoulder, and takes a seat on the bench next to him. He sighs wistfully. "Ah, I remember the days when we were messengers together. Good times, huh? Sometimes I kinda miss it. Playing pranks on Chanyeol, messing around in the—" "Yes," Yifan cuts in stiffly. He's hiding something, isn't he? Joonmyun's curiosity is piqued. "It was fun." "Aw, c'mon, Yifan," Zitao prods, grinning. "The last time I saw you, you weren't like this. Live a little! Let go!" "We're doing… important things," Yifan says. "I don't have time to live a little." "Important things?" Zitao looks excited at that, casting glances between Yifan and Joonmyun and Jongdae. His eyes flicker back to Joonmyun, and then he narrows his eyes. "Hey, aren't you…" Yifan shushes him loudly, and the men at the next table over send him a dirty look. "Yes," Joonmyun says. "I don't think it's, um, public knowledge, so you probably shouldn't—" "Oh, I get it," Zitao says, his eyes lighting up. "This is a secret. Fun! Hey, I don't have anything to do for a while. Can I come?" Joonmyun looks over at Yifan to exchange a look with him, but Yifan won't look anywhere but his empty plate. Things start to make a little more sense. "Sure," Joonmyun says, a slow smile starting to spread across his face as Yifan looks up, alarmed. "Why not?" ♚ They've only been with Zitao a couple of hours, but Joonmyun likes him already. He's full of stories, more talkative than even Jongdae, and the way he smiles, especially at Yifan, is genuinely sweet. "I trained for a few years after I left my messenger post," he says when Joonmyun asks what he does, now that he's not a messenger for the palace anymore. "Self-defense. And I liked it, but after a while I just didn't feel like I had a purpose there anymore, you know? So I decided to wander. And visit Yifan over here every now and again." Joonmyun looks over at where Yifan is, on the other side of where Zitao sits on his horse. Yifan isn't looking at him. "Oh, were you two good friends?" "Your Highness, please." Yifan looks so pained Joonmyun can't tell if he's just embarrassed, or if he's actually dying from the heat. "So," Jongdae says loudly, before anyone else can say anything. He casts Yifan a pitying look. "That's the town in the distance, right?" Joonmyun follows Jongdae's line of sight to where, not to far from where they are, is a cluster of houses. Another half hour of traveling, maybe. "I think so," he says. "So we can stop there and let the horses rest a little while. And we can get some food before we move on." They separate briefly in the town, Yifan and Zitao going to buy food, and Jongdae tagging along with Joonmyun to buy more supplies. They return to their horses with four sets of thin blankets and pillows, and supplies to make tents with; they find Yifan and Zitao at the market with fresh fruit and baked goods that'll last them at least another day or two, until they get to Owan. It's another four hours or so before they settle down for the night somewhere off to the side of the path. The makeshift tent is even less comfortable than the bed in the hostel last night, and Joonmyun shifts uncomfortably, feeling every little rock on the hard ground underneath him pressing into his back. It smells vaguely dusty in the tent, and nothing like home, and, well—he misses it. But the air tonight, at least, is just the right amount of warm, and Joonmyun can feel his eyelids getting heavy before he knows it. Sleep comes easy to him after that, and tonight, he dreams of the palace, soft beds, and the way the itchy, sticky fabric of his gloves used to cling to his skin in the heat of summer. Owan isn't far after that. They get there halfway through the next day and spend the rest of it resting. Aria's lair isn't too far from here, so if they're lucky, they've almost reached the end—but something tells Joonmyun they'll need the rest. "I think I know where that is," Zitao says thoughtfully at breakfast the next morning, looking at the map Joonmyun has laid out in front of him. "I've been on that road before, yeah. I can take you guys there, no problem." Yifan beams. Joonmyun thinks he feels a little sick. So Zitao leads the way when they finally leave Owan out the north exit. There's a tension around the four of them, an air of nervousness, maybe, and it's quiet until Zitao points at something on the right of the road, too far to make out clearly. "I think that's it," Zitao says. He casts a look back at them before he starts to move towards it, and gradually, the rest of them follow. Joonmyun squints at it as they get closer. It looks sort of like a house—no, it is a house. Someone lives here. "I dunno," Jongdae says. "This isn't much of a lair. I dunno if this is the kind of place a Faerie would live…" "You never know!" Zitao says. He sounds almost indignant. "I've found things in stranger places. Strangely normal, I mean." It's a scary thought, that they've only just set out on this trip, and maybe, just maybe, they've already reached the end. And that Joonmyun'll have to confront the Faerie that cursed him, even when he's not ready for it in the least. He needs another week to mentally prepare himself for this. At the very least. His heart is pounding in his chest when they come to a stop ten feet from the house. It's squat, like the houses Joonmyun saw in Saira, but there’s something different about it. Strange. The curtains that cover the windows are dark, so they can’t even get a peek at what’s inside. Joonmyun doesn’t know what to expect. He sort of wishes they were still halfway to Owan, right about now. This is happening too fast. He’s not ready for it. Jongdae looks over at him and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Let’s go.” “Zitao and I can watch the horses,” Yifan says, taking the reins from Joonmyun as he dismounts. “You should go ahead.” With a shaky nod, Joonmyun takes a few steps forward. His shoes knock against Jongdae's a little as they head towards the house together, walking at a pace that's not quite slow but not fast either, somewhere in between. He almost doesn't want to ever get there. The door is just inches away far too soon, and Joonmyun exchanges a glance with Jongdae before he knocks gently on the door. It barely makes a sound. Jongdae's shoulders relax a little as he laughs through his nose and Joonmyun grins a little, and then knocks twice again, this time not so timidly. One second passes. Two seconds. Three, four. Joonmyun doesn't know what to expect. He watches the door with growing anxiety, staring so hard it's almost as if he expects some terrifying creature to pop out from behind it at any moment. Ten seconds, now. There's still nothing. A whole minute passes before Jongdae says, voice quiet like he's afraid someone will hear, "Should we knock again?" "I—I guess," Joonmyun says. Jongdae reaches up and knocks loudly, three times this time. They wait, but again, there's no answer. It's another three tries before Zitao comes over, looking exasperated. "What's taking you so long?" "No one's answering," Joonmyun says worriedly. "I don't know what to do." "Do you really expect a Faerie to just open her door to anyone that comes?" Zitao sighs. "Being polite isn't gonna get you anywhere. Here, let me just—" In one swift movement, Zitao steps back just a foot or so from the door, and does a fancy thing with his foot before kicking the door in, just like that. It falls to the ground loudly, and the sound of it echoes. "Thanks," Joonmyun says after a moment. Zitao rolls his eyes and heads back to the horses, where Yifan looks on with round eyes. Joonmyun has to take a moment to steel himself before he glances over at Jongdae for just an instant, lets the reassurance in his eyes calm him a little, and goes in, Jongdae following at his heels. The inside of the house feels bigger than it looks from the outside. It's sparsely furnished, but it looks lived-in, maybe a little worn. Their footsteps echo in the quiet of the entrance; Joonmyun wonders if there's even anyone living here anymore, if they've found the wrong place, until he looks to his right and spots a—green?—fire in the living room hearth. "This is it," Jongdae says, following Joonmyun's gaze to the fireplace. "This is definitely it." "But she isn't here," Joonmyun says slowly, looking around the rooms in front of them for someone, anyone. They check the rest of the rooms, too, but still, there's no one. They're back in the living room when Jongdae tugs on his arm excitedly, pointing at the table in the center of the room. "Look," he says. "There's something there." Upon closer inspection, it's a slip of paper, with something written in script so small Joonmyun can barely make it out without having to bring it closer to his face to see. "What does it say?" Joonmyun squints a little, brings it up a little closer, and reads: "You're not the first to look for me, To come in search of sympathy— But I won't rest until you bring Back to me three stolen things: First, return something you keep And surely won't forget. Next, bring me a girl who sleeps In the place where you first met. Then go look for the cup that lies Beneath Ivy's great tail, And if you bring me back these three Things I love, I'll set you free— But if you fail, you'll worry, you'll fret; I'll make this something you'll regret." On the back, there's just one more line: You have one week. "Whoa," Jongdae says. "That last part is kinda scary." "But we won't ever have to know what it means," Joonmyun says firmly. He reads over the poem again, eyes stopping on one line towards the end. Beneath Ivy's great tail. Ivy. The name sparks a memory—a story the serving boys liked to tell each other a long time ago, when Joonmyun would listen to them talk in the kitchen from around the corner until someone came out and he pretended he was just lost. It's a story from a long time ago, and he doesn't remember it all that clearly, but Ivy he remembers. Ivy the dragon, green as the envy that once turned her from a woman to a beast, Ivy the dragon who protects her treasure with the stubbornness and fierceness only possessed by those who've nothing else to lose. Ivy, who steals from passing travelers when they're sleeping and unaware. If that cup was stolen from Aria, Joonmyun can imagine how Ivy could've gotten ahold of it. "Can I see that?" Jongdae asks. His eyes are all lit up, and he scans the riddle once more before looking back up at Joonmyun excitedly. "The cup that lies. It's not just a cup that lies beneath her tail, but it's a cup that lies—a goblet, actually." "That makes no sense," Joonmyun frowns. "Actually, none of this makes any sense. What does any of this even mean?" "No, listen—the cup, it's cursed. Anyone who touches it is forced to lie, no matter what it's about or how hard you try to tell the truth. Even if all you try to say is, like, 'My name is Kim Joonmyun,' it wouldn't let you. You'd say someone else's name instead." "And?" "And… that's it, I guess. It's caused a lot of trouble in the past. It's crazy what people'll believe." "But that won't happen to us," Joonmyun says. "We know." "Yeah, don't worry," Jongdae says. "My parents just liked to tell me folk tales when I was younger. The goblet was in a lot of them. But anyway. Let's go tell Yifan and Zitao." "Why is so vague?" Zitao complains when he's read over the riddle a couple of times, frowning at the paper. "Why can't she just tell us? This is stupid." "Things are never easy with Faeries," Yifan says. "You know that." Zitao sighs. "I hate Faeries." "Don't say that here," Yifan hisses. "What if she's hiding somewhere? What if she hears?" "Whatever," Zitao says. "I don't care. Faeries are stupid." "Well, anyway," Joonmyun cuts in before Zitao says anything more, "there's more we haven't told you yet." When Joonmyun tells them about the goblet and then Ivy, Zitao sounds excited again, though. "Ivy! I knew I knew that name from somewhere." "You knew the stories too?" Joonmyun grins. "Yeah, and I know where she is," Zitao says. "If we leave now, we'll get there in a couple of days, probably. It's not that far." "How do you know where it is?" "Like I said," Zitao shrugs. "I traveled a lot for a while. I've been past there a couple of times." "Is it really like the stories say?" Joonmyun asks eagerly, feeling a little foolish for it, but he's always wanted to know. Ever since he was a kid. "Covered in—" "Ivy, yeah," Zitao finishes for him, grinning. "Like her name." "Then I suppose we'll know it when we see it," Joonmyun says. They mount their horses again and let Zitao take the lead, heading north, even further away from Owan now. "Let's go." The path ahead stretches off into the distance, so far Joonmyun can't see an end, just a long, long road in front of them, with nothing and no one in their way. ♚ Jongdae rereads the riddle over and over as they continue on the next day, frowning and murmuring the words to himself instead of talking like he usually does. Joonmyun's already got it memorized, but he can't make any sense of most of it. "So we know the third part," Jongdae says at lunch, taking a large bite of bread and speaking as he chews. "The goblet in Ivy's cave. But what do the other parts mean?" "'First, return something you keep and surely won't forget," Joonmyun recites. "That could be anything, couldn't it? It could be my lucky coin, for all I know." "You have a lucky coin?" Jongdae snorts. "Yes," Joonmyun says, feeling defensive. "And I've never forgotten to bring it with me, ever." "Even on this trip?" Joonmyun thinks about it for a second, checks his pockets, and then gives an embarrassed laugh. "Okay, so I forgot it." "Then she doesn't mean that," Jongdae says easily. "There's got to be something." "I can't think of anything. Maybe we'll figure it out later," Joonmyun says. He breaks a piece off of Jongdae's bread (which earns him a playful glare) and hums, considering. "I wonder how she knows I'd never forget it." "Who knows," Jongdae shrugs. "Faeries are weird." Joonmyun laughs. "I wouldn't know. What do you think about the next two lines, though? A girl who sleeps where we first met. I don't think I've ever even met a girl. Other than my mother." "Maybe she wants you to sacrifice your mother?" Jongdae muses. "But that's kinda weird, too, I guess. Because she said the things she wants were stolen… And probably a long time ago, right? I don't think your mother is centuries old." "Definitely not," Joonmyun agrees. "Why does it feel like the more we think about it, the less it makes sense?" "Maybe we're thinking it through too much," Jongdae suggests. "Maybe it's simpler than we think." Joonmyun gives a sigh and slumps back against one of the saddlebags he'd pulled off of Socks to rest on. Laughing a little, he says, "What if it's so obvious it's practically impossible to figure out? Or what if it's actually really easy, and Aria's just watching us struggle and laughing at how stupid we are. Imagine if the answer was right in front of us all along." "How dumb would we be if that were true," Jongdae laughs. He stands up and stretches; a few feet away, Yifan and Zitao are doing the same, getting up to go again. "Are you ready?" "Yeah," Joonmyun says. He gathers his things and stands, too. "Ready as I'll ever be." ♚ one | two | three