Mingi and Jongho returned safely before morning dawned. With by now practised confidence, they returned to the canyon and Mingi brought them back over via his grappling gun. Jongho wasn't too tired yet, but his mind was still preoccupied with the odd boy he had met in the castle. Thus, as soon as he was safely back in Zey, he relaxed his muscles for seemingly the first time in the whole night.

At his sigh, Mingi threw him an empathetic smirk.

"You can stay until the curfew is over. I will do some work."

Jongho appreciated his help. He had worked with a bunch of other people before, and none was as compassionate and patient as Mingi had been. He didn't pry into Jongho's private business, and he even offered him some more of his bitter tea after he had settled in the corner of the room. Jongho accepted the kindness with a small smile.

For a while, they shared the silence while the needle on the clock slowly inched further towards eight. By the time that it was safe for Jongho to go, Mingi was napping on the desk. He had barely finished unpacking his things before his lids had fluttered shut, and Jongho found it amusing. Yet, Mingi kept reminding him of Yunho in the most painful of ways. Yunho had always been too trusting, also.

As much as Jongho hoped to sneak out without waking his snoring companion, he needed Mingi to close the hatch behind Jongho safely. Thus, he woke the man with gentle nudges. Mingi blinked disoriented for a moment before he understood.

"Ah, time for you to leave! I must say I had a good time with you. No hassle to deal with." He snatched his keys and led Jongho back through the tunnel they had come through.

"I agree. Thank you for being a decent human being."

Mingi's laughter burst out of his chest with no buildup. He went from a neutral expression to a happy grin within the blink of an eye. Much lighter than his speaking voice, his giggles echoed through the tunnel.

"I guess that's something we need to thank each other for in a place like this."

Jongho chuckled into his mask. Zey was like that. Helping someone got you into your grave, but sometimes, meeting people in work-centred circumstances could lead to jobs well done.

Before Jongho left the house, he and Mingi shook hands for one last time. Jongho made sure to memorise the tall man with the hair as red as fire and a long coat that swished behind him. Then, he was already on his way again.

The sun crawled over the far horizon and bathed Asora in gleaming white light. Jongho watched the blinding crenellations on each, and every house reflected a whole rainbow of colours that pained his eyes to look at. Zey was still bathed in the cold shadows of the night as he travelled over the roofs back to his frequented spots.

While Zey fell back into the full bustle routine, Jongho successfully handed the fuse over to Youjin's boss and received his payment in return. The man suggested that Jongho take jobs with Mingi in Asora more often from now on, but Jongho made no promises. The canyon was a dangerous thing to play with, and if Jongho was gone, who would look after his father? He preferred a sense of safety.

After searching through the shady alleys, Jongho also discovered a merchant willing to rid him of his fancy vase. All through their deal, he rambled about some city far in the north that had a grand interest in items such as this one. Jongho had watched him with crossed arms when the man had been bold enough to throw in a few winks after mentioning that they were usually reserved for the royal family.

When he had finally haggled up the price enough for his liking, Jongho left with his bags full. Once he rid himself of anything vaguely related to the palace, he returned to the usual ease he crossed Zey with.

He visited the apothecary to get new medicine for his father. Then, he bought them a meal before he returned home after a long time on his toes.

This time, his father was up when Jongho came home. He knelt on the ground next to the boiler with the music bunny perched in his lap. It hummed a melody that Jongho distinctly connected with his mother. His dad had a serene smile on his face while he watched the little metal creature play its song. From how thin his wrists and hollow his cheeks looked, Jongho nearly turned on his heel to get more food for him.

However, his father spotted him first. He tiredly rose his head from the wall and smiled brightly at Jongho's broad frame that barely found space in the narrow doorframe.

"Oh, you came home! How have you been, Yunho?"

Jongho barely flinched at the mistake. He merely put his bag down and began filling up the medicine in the little box they used for it. His fingers were steady even when exhaustion crept behind his eyes and made his lids heavy.

"I'm Jongho."

With a trembling smile, his father shook his head. His bony fingers weakly rose to stretch towards Jongho's direction.

"I missed you dearly, son. Your mother and brother will be back soon, I promise. Jongho is still around somewhere and probably working hard as we are speaking. And your mom- It has been some time, but she will return." His voice was scratchy in his throat. To ease his desperate attempts at getting closer, Jongho brought him something to drink while he waited for the tea to finish.

"Go to bed, dad. You need to rest."

"No, Yunho, I missed you. Let's talk. They should never have taken you away from us."

Jongho swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat. Judging from his breaking voice, his old father had teared up, and it only fuelled the pain in Jongho's heart.

He didn't mind being mistaken for his brother. But he ached whenever he came up in conversations. There was no one around but him to aid his father's yearning to see his older son again.

Jongho put the medicine on his father's nightstand before he collected him from the floor. His father's old body weighed barely anything as he clung onto Jongho and mumbled teary confessions of how sorry he was and how much he missed Yunho in his chest.

With a bit of conviction, Jongho managed to get him back under the covers. For now, he needed to stay and hold the man's hand, or else he would throw a fit.

Jongho was tired. It was all the same. Sometimes, his sorrowful heart timidly asked him to give up already. Deep down, he knew that there was no remedy for his father. It was not his body that was sick; it was his loss-saddened mind. A mind that wasn't strong enough to keep him alive.

But Jongho was too stubborn to let go of his last family member. He would hold onto his father for as long as he could, no matter the doubts. If it meant to listen to Yunho's story countless times, then he would.

"How is the war going? Did we win? Did Asora win?"

Jongho lowered his eyes as he held his father's hand. It was soft and wrinkly, but his grip was intense for his condition. Closing his heart away, for now, Jongho gently ran his fingers over his father's skin.

"No, we didn't. When they asked me to join the army, they already knew that it was in vain. Hence they asked Zey's people, not their own."

A deep frown appeared on his dad's forehead. Jongho handed him his tea and medicine so he would be busy with that while he talked. Crazed eyes flickered left and right.

"Those bastards deserve to rot in hell for this. They killed you, Yunho. You and your poor mother."

Jongho closed his eyes to will back his emotions. All the anger and sadness had no place here. It had been three years. Yunho wouldn't come back, and his mother's ashes were scattered in the wind after she had died of grief. The news of Asora's defeat had shaken them all up. Jongho's father had not been the same ever since, and Jongho still suffered quietly from the bereavement of his dear brother, too.

"Yeah, they do," Jongho just mumbled. A migraine was finding its way inside his skull from staying up all night.

"If I weren't in such bad condition, I would get back at that damn king. I would kill his firstborn just how he did to mine."

Jongho startled at the malice in his father's voice. It was not the first time he wanted revenge, but it was the first time for him to target Prince Seonghwa rather than the Undying himself.

"He lived for too long. Two hundred years... How many people did he kill in that time? How many more sons will he take from their parents?" Without any strength left in his arms, Jongho's father tried to get up. Jongho pushed him back gently and held him through his angry spasms and curses.

"Outlive him, hm? Show us all how much better of a person you can be at the same time." Jongho tried to bite back his tears as he spoke around his wobbly lower lip. His father was so weak and thin under his fingers. Jongho could feel every single one of his ribs underneath their tips.

He would not give up his father, as long as he could. Years ago, after the death of his mother, Jongho had sworn to do anything in his might to protect him. It kept him going, too. The tireless task kept him sane.

"Back in the day, Yunho, when Asorazey was still one... Before he became king..."

Jongho gently shushed him and pried the mug from his hands as soon as he finished drinking his medicine.

"I know. You told me."

With his resistance weakening, his old father allowed himself to get pushed into the sheets. Jongho tucked the blanket around him neatly. He would also go to bed soon, but he needed some distance first. As soon as both of them had calmed down again, he would return.

"I just want the city to reunite... No one would have to go to war then. And Jongho wouldn't suffer so much."

Jongho nearly choked on his guilt. He had hoped his father didn't notice, but here he was, ranting to the projection of Yunho that his mind conjured. How had he been so obvious?

"I'm not. I'm fine, dad."

"No, son... No, you aren't." With a secretive smile that had sadness pull on it, the man finally settled. Soon, his breathing evened out as exhaustion took him back in sleep's soothing embrace.

Jongho knelt next to the bed for a few minutes as he regained his bearings. With his weakened state of mind, the reminder of the past had cut even deeper into Jongho's heart than it usually would. It took him a while until his chest stopped to hurt at every breath he took.

When he felt in control of his body again, he quietly rose. He stashed the medicine box back in the cupboard and brought the music bunny over to his father. Its singing calmed both of them while Jongho got ready for bed. He didn't mind sleeping during the day; their home was dark at all the time anyway.

As he settled next to his father and curled up, he felt like a child again. Back when he was little and scared of the dark or thunder, Yunho had often come to soothe him. In his brother's strong arms was the safest place in the world, in Jongho's opinion. This time, no one came to soothe him even as he shook and trembled before he fell asleep.

There was nobody left to watch out for him. As his father had said, Asora had taken everything from them.

By the time that sleep finally settled on Jongho like a merciful blanket, he accepted its depth all too easily.

He just wanted to forget.