June 8th of 1632 

"Riki-ah!" Riki turned his head around to see his mother calling for him, her gentle voice cutting through the bustling streets of their new Korean neighborhood. "Mama!" He giggled in excitement as his mom scooped him up into her arms, her warm embrace comforting him as they walked away from their modest house.

Riki knew exactly where his mother worked – a beautiful, well-built home nestled in the heart of the city. He admired how hard she worked to provide for them, her dedication evident in every step she took.

Having moved from Japan to Korea, Riki understood the challenges they faced, especially amidst the tensions of the ongoing Japan War. Living in the Joseon Dynasty as a Japanese family was not easy, with whispers and glances following them wherever they went.

"Make sure you don't do anything bad, okay?" His mother's words were a gentle reminder, spoken with love and concern, as she carefully set him down and exchanged pleasantries with the guard, ensuring their passage into the prestigious household where she served.

His mother gracefully bowed to the guards standing at attention outside the ornate gates of the fancy house. With a nod of approval, they allowed them entry, and Riki's mom gently took his hand, guiding him through the grand entrance and into the opulent interior.

Inside, Riki watched as his mother exchanged warm hugs and greetings with an unfamiliar woman, her smile genuine and welcoming. As he glanced around the room, his eyes fell upon an open door, leading to another part of the house. Curiosity piqued, he ventured closer, his gaze drawn to the sight of an older boy dressed in a beautifully designed dark blue anryeong, adorned with a vibrant red cheollik draped around his upper body. The boy was engrossed in painting, his movements fluid and focused.

Captivated by the scene before him, Riki felt a tug of interest. However, his attention was soon interrupted when the unfamiliar lady must have noticed his fascination with the older boy. "Hi, sweetie," she addressed him with a warm smile, breaking him out of his reverie. "You can go inside the room and talk to him." Her encouraging words spurred Riki into action, and with a shy nod, he made his way towards the open door, anticipation bubbling within him.

"Hi..." Riki stuttered nervously as he entered the room, his heart pounding with anticipation. Taking a seat on the floor in front of the older boy, his knees pressed against the cool surface, Riki's gaze met the older boy's intense stare as he laid down his paintbrush.

The older boy scrutinized him with a cold gaze, causing Riki to shrink back slightly, feeling a pang of fear at the intensity of the older boy's aura. His heart sank as he heard the question, "You are foreign... Yes?" Riki's disappointment was palpable as he realized his Japanese accent might be a barrier, causing others to avoid him because of his ethnicity.

With a shy nod, Riki confirmed his foreign status, bracing himself for potential rejection. However, to his surprise. 

The older boy, took Riki's hand in his own, his grip firm yet surprisingly gentle. "Park Sunghoon. I'm 8 years old and Korean. And you are?" His voice was calm and welcoming, breaking through the tension that hung in the air.

Riki hesitated for a moment before tentatively shaking Sunghoon's hand. "Nishimura Riki. I'm 6 years old... and I'm Japanese," he mumbled softly, his eyes downcast with a hint of unease.

Sunghoon observed Riki closely, noticing the slight tremble in his voice and the hesitation in his demeanor. Sensing Riki's discomfort, Sunghoon gently asked, "Are you embarrassed? With your ethnicity, I mean..."

Riki's face flushed red with embarrassment as he looked up, meeting Sunghoon's gaze. "N-No... People rarely want to be friends with me because I'm Japanese," he stuttered, his words laced with a mixture of fear and vulnerability, unsure of how Sunghoon would react to his confession.

Sunghoon's nonchalant question caught Riki off guard, his eyes widening in shock. "W-What?" he stammered, struggling to process Sunghoon's unexpected inquiry. "Did you start the war with Korea? As a Japanese, I mean," Sunghoon repeated, his tone matter-of-fact.

Riki shook his head in disbelief before softly murmuring, "No..."

Sunghoon let out a thoughtful hum in response to Riki's answer. "Then why are you blaming yourself? And why are you letting people blame you?" His words cut through the air, probing Riki's conscience with a clarity that left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. "I-I... I don't know..." Riki mumbled, his confusion evident as he struggled to find an answer.

Sensing Riki's discomfort, Sunghoon changed the subject with a gentle offer. "Would you like to paint?" he asked, attempting to lighten the mood. Like a switch being flipped, Riki's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes!" he exclaimed cheerfully, moving closer to Sunghoon to see what he was working on.

As Riki admired Sunghoon's painting, Sunghoon couldn't help but murmur under his breath, "Cute..." His words were barely audible to Riki.

"Nishimura Riki..." Sunghoon muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed on the young Japanese boy who had captured his attention in ways he couldn't quite understand. As he waited for his mother to finish her conversation with Riki's mother, Sunghoon found himself lost in thought, reflecting on the moments he had shared with Riki.

Riki fascinated Sunghoon. Despite the mistreatment he faced, Riki always maintained a cheerful attitude, his curiosity shining through even in the darkest of times. Sunghoon vividly remembered the day Riki had painted him, capturing his heart with such skill and sincerity.

"H-Hyung...?" Riki's hesitant voice broke through Sunghoon's reverie as he entered their shared living quarters, his eyes bright with anticipation. Sunghoon looked up from his work, setting aside his paintbrush with a small chuckle. "You can call me Hyung," he reassured Riki, amused by the younger boy's uncertainty.

"Ok! Hyung... I made you something..." Riki's voice trailed off, his hands fidgeting nervously as he presented Sunghoon with a small canvas. Sunghoon accepted it, his curiosity piqued as he examined the painting before him. It was a portrait of... him?

Sunghoon's heart swelled with warmth as he studied the painting, a replica of the family portrait that hung in their living quarters, albeit with one notable difference – it depicted only Sunghoon, devoid of his parents but radiant with brighter colors than the original. A soft smile tugged at Sunghoon's lips as he looked up at Riki, gratitude and affection evident in his gaze.

"Thank you, Riki..." Sunghoon's words were sincere, his smile genuine as he met Riki's eager gaze. In that moment, as their eyes locked, a bond formed between them, forged through shared experiences and acts of kindness. And as Riki's face lit up with joy at Sunghoon's appreciation, Sunghoon couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected friendship that had blossomed between them.

September 1st 1633

"Y-You're leaving?" Riki's voice cracked with emotion as he sat in front of Sunghoon, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. Sunghoon nodded slowly, his own heart heavy with the weight of impending separation. "To the states," he mumbled softly to the younger boy, his voice filled with regret. "My mother wants me to study in the states..."

"But you're not even a teenager, you're 9... why leave so soon?" Riki's words trembled as he struggled to hold back his tears, his voice breaking with each syllable. His anguish was palpable, his fear of losing his newfound friend overwhelming him.

Riki began to rise from his seat, ready to retreat from the pain of goodbye, but Sunghoon reached out, his hand gently pulling Riki back down. "I-I'm so sorry... I know I'm leaving early... but I'll meet you again," Sunghoon's voice cracked with emotion as tears welled up in his eyes, his own heartache mirrored in Riki's sorrow.

"I'll miss you, Park Sunghoon," Riki murmured softly as he leaned into the older boy's embrace, seeking solace in their shared sorrow. "Me too, Nishimura Riki," Sunghoon whispered back, his arms tightening around Riki as they held onto each other, their bond unbroken despite the distance that would soon separate them. In that moment, as they clung to each other, they found comfort in the knowledge that their friendship would endure, transcending time and distance until they were reunited once more.

"I hate this, Mother," Sunghoon spoke softly as he sat in the horse-drawn carriage, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery as they arrived in the U.S. His heart weighed heavy with the ache of separation, longing for the familiarity of home and the comforting presence of his friend, Riki.

"Well, Heeseung has been waiting to talk to you for so long," his mother reminded him, her voice tinged with gentle insistence as she adjusted the delicate folds of her elegant attire – a white virago sleeve complemented by a light pink high-waisted bodice and a red tabbed skirt.

"Can't he just send me a bird messenger?" Sunghoon's frustration bubbled to the surface, his longing for simpler times and the companionship of his friend evident in his words. Despite his mother's attempts to comfort him, Sunghoon couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at his heart, the absence of Riki leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As the carriage continued on its journey, Sunghoon's thoughts drifted to Riki, his resolve strengthening with each passing mile. Yes, he missed Riki dearly, but he also knew that his studies were important, laying the foundation for a future where he and Riki could be reunited once more. 

Sunghoon stared daggers at his friend, Lee Heeseung, resentment simmering beneath the surface as he settled into Heeseung's opulent palace bedroom. "I hate you so much, Heeseung," Sunghoon muttered bitterly, his voice laced with frustration and anger.

"Come on, Sunghoon! My mother and I knew that you and your parents weren't going to be safe in Korea," Heeseung pleaded earnestly, his words tinged with concern for his friend's well-being. Sunghoon sighed heavily, his gaze softening as he looked at the older boy. "I know... I just... never mind," Sunghoon trailed off, cutting off any further discussion before it could begin.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by Sunghoon's sudden change in demeanor. "What, girl?" he asked bluntly, catching Sunghoon off guard. Sunghoon choked on his breath, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he stammered incoherently, "W-What?"

A mischievous smile tugged at Heeseung's lips as he leaned in closer, his eyes dancing with amusement. "You heard me. What girl? You clearly have a crush," Heeseung teased, unable to resist poking fun at his best friend's expense.

Sunghoon's face burned with embarrassment as he averted his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the book before him. "Shut up, Lee," he muttered under his breath, hoping to deflect Heeseung's teasing with a dismissive remark.

Heeseung chuckled softly, a fondness evident in his expression as he watched Sunghoon squirm under his teasing. Despite their banter, Heeseung knew that Sunghoon's feelings ran deep, and he vowed to support his friend through whatever challenges lay ahead, even if it meant enduring more playful teasing along the way.

November 30th 1645

Sunghoon's hand hovered over the blank page of his journal, the weight of his thoughts heavy upon him as he prepared to document another day of his life, – a habit he had picked up during his time studying in the states.

As he penned the date – November 30th, 1645 – Sunghoon couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia wash over him. Twelve years. That's how long he had been away from Korea, immersed in his studies and pursuits of knowledge. Now, at twenty-one years old, his heart yearned for someone – someone he had met and someone he missed dearly.

"Sunghoon!" Heeseung's voice shattered the calmful atmosphere of Sunghoon's thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment. Sunghoon turned his head to face his friend, a questioning look in his eyes. "What?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance at being interrupted.

"Oh my god! Listen to me, you imbecile!" Heeseung exclaimed, frustration evident in his voice as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, silently urging Heeseung to continue.

"I'm having a problem..." Heeseung's voice trailed off, his expression troubled as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. Sunghoon's curiosity piqued, his own concerns momentarily forgotten as he focused on his friend's distress.

" You know Jay? " Heeseung's voice trembled with emotion as he mentioned his crush, Park Jongseong, known as Park Jay in English. The older boy had fallen deeply in love with one of the princes from the multiple colonies in the states, and his affection for Jay was evident in every word he spoke.

"Yeah?" Sunghoon confirmed with a nod, his attention fully focused on Heeseung as he listened intently.

"He's getting married! And he came to me and said that he doesn't want to and he has someone else he loves!" Heeseung's frustration bubbled over as he vented his feelings, his voice filled with anguish and disbelief. Sunghoon's heart ached for his friend, knowing all too well the pain of unrequited love.

"Hoon! He loves someone else!" Heeseung's voice cracked with sadness, his face clouded with despair. Sunghoon felt a pang of empathy for the older boy, understanding the depth of his heartache.

"Oh... Hee... how are you coping?" Sunghoon's voice was gentle, filled with concern for his friend's well-being. Heeseung sniffled softly, struggling to contain his emotions as tears threatened to spill over.

"I'm fine... but I have to know who he loves!" Heeseung's voice wavered with emotion, his desperation heard in his voice. Sunghoon reached out, offering his support and comfort to his friend in his time of need. "Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine, but you have to go back to Korea, right?" Heeseung's voice was tinged with resignation as he accepted the inevitable separation from his friend. 

As Sunghoon nodded in response to Heeseung's question, a sense of resignation settled over him. "I hope to see you soon, Hoon. Go chase that girl of your dreams!" Heeseung's words were tinged with bittersweetness as Sunghoon boarded the carriage, waving goodbye to his friend with a heavy heart.

But Sunghoon's dream girl wasn't a girl at all. Nor was it just any regular guy or girl.

 His heart, his soul, yearned for one person and one person only – Nishimura Riki.

Riki was the one who had captured his heart, the one who had brought light into his life during their time together in Korea. Despite the distance that now separated them, Sunghoon's feelings for Riki had only grown stronger over the years, his love for the younger boy unwavering and true.

As the carriage rolled away, carrying Sunghoon further from the one he loved, he couldn't help but reflect on the irony of Heeseung's words. Oh, how wrong Heeseung was... For Sunghoon's heart belonged to Riki, and Riki alone, and no amount of distance or time could ever change that.

Riki's life continued much as it had before, with one key difference – he had no recollection of Park Sunghoon. Despite the profound impact Sunghoon had on his life during their brief time together in Korea, Riki's memories of their friendship had faded into the mists of time.

One factor played a pivotal role in Riki's lack of memory – his young age at the time of their separation. Riki was too young to fully comprehend the significance of his friendship with Sunghoon, and as the years passed, memories of their time together gradually slipped from his grasp.

While Riki retained a small flower painting, a cherished memento from his past, he couldn't recall who had given it to him. The identity of the person who had touched his life so deeply remained a mystery, their presence in his memories nothing more than a faint echo of a distant past.

Despite the absence of Sunghoon in his conscious memory, Riki's heart still carried the imprint of their bond, a lingering feeling of warmth and connection that he couldn't quite explain. And as the years passed by, Riki remained oblivious to the fact that someone, somewhere, held a piece of his heart – a piece he didn't even know was missing.