The drive towards the neighborhood feels all too familiar. Nothing has really changed; most of the houses look exactly as Eunwoo remembers them. A few have new coats of paint, but the one that still stands out like a sore thumb is the Volkov residence.

It always did - the grandest house on the block. And even now, it holds up.

"Don't look too surprised," Maksim grins, catching Eunwoo's expression. "It looks better from a distance. Mama refuses to make repairs unless they're absolutely necessary."

Maksim pulls neatly into the driveway and exhales, unclicking his seatbelt.

"I think it still looks magnificent." Eunwoo says softly, taking in the sight.

Up close, though, it's easier to see that the house has aged. The pain is peeling in certain places, colors faded, and the trim isn't as crisp as it used to be. Maksim was right - it's beautiful, but time has clearly passed.

He walks up to the front door, hand reaching for the doorknob, it's silver bling lightly tarnished, but he hesitates, body frozen - as if he's caught between then and now.

"Hey."

Maksim's voice snaps him out of it.

"Huh? Oh... Sorry." Eunwoo finally opens the door and steps inside.

The interior, unlike the outside, looks almost untouched. The same warm scent of jasmine tea and home-cooked coup drifts through the air. For a second, he feels seventeen again.

"О боже! Ыну! (Oh my! Eunwoo!)," Mrs, Volkov's voice rings from the kitchen. "Eunwoo, welcome home!"

She rushes to him, arms wide, pulling him into a tight embrace. She doesn't look that different - just a few more wrinkles, her hair a lighter brown streaked with silver, like time added warmth instead of age.

"Thank you, Mrs. Volkov." Eunwoo smiles, hugging her back. Her embrace is soft, familiar. He breathes in deeply. "Is that... Shchi soup?"

"Why of course! I had to make your favorite. Go on, get comfortable - It's almost ready."

Eunwoo does as told, wandering to the living room and settling on the large velvet couch, so spotless it looks unused. His gaze drifts across the walls - fewer picture frames than he remembers.

There's one with Maksim holding his graduation certificate, another of with him and Mrs. Volkov at a formal event, both smiling proudly.

"Don't look at those." Maksim plops down beside him with a grin. "It's embarrassing."

"What for? She looks so proud of you there." Eunwoo chuckles, pointing at the photo - but his smile falters as his eyes keep moving. There's no-

"Mama took them down a few years ago." Maksim murmurs, as if he was reading Eunwoo's mind. "She keeps one in her room, but that's about it. The rest are in storage."

Eunwoo turns towards him, expression tightening. "How come? Not even a graduation photo?"

He doesn't mean to be pushy about Rian, but he can't help it. He's curious to hear where he is in life.

A sharp clang comes from the kitchen, Mrs. Volkov having hit the pan too hard with a spoon. She must've heard.

"Let's discuss this later... Mama doesn't like talking about it." Maksim's voice is hushed.

Eunwoo studies him for a long moment, trying to read him. His eyes are a bit more troubled than before.

The meal was delicious, and Eunwoo felt a warmth he hadn't felt in years - the kind that came not just from the food, but from the familiarity of it all. The distinct taste of Mrs. Volkov's cooking, the soft candlelight, the faint crack of the Russian radio playing in the background.

When they finally said their goodbyes, Eunwoo promised to visit again soon. "I haven't had food like that in ages." He said, leaning back into the passenger seat, feeling full and content. He shifts lightly, yawning.

"Yeah," Maksim says quietly, glancing over as he backs out of the driveway, one hand on Eunwoo's headrest. "It was good having you at the dinner table. Like our family's whole again."

Eunwoo swallows, eyes following the house as it grew smaller in the mirror until it disappeared completely. "Maksim," He says softly. "What happened to Rian?"

The mention of the name caused something to shift in the air, as if someone had shattered a glass.

It's quiet for a moment, only the sound of the heater blowing out of the vents and the traffic outside filling the uncomfortable silence.

Maksim opens his mouth, then closes it again. His knuckles whiten around the steering wheel.

"I don't know." He finally says, voice low and tone quiet. "He came back from the treatment center and stayed a few months. Then one night, he just... disappeared."

"What?"

"He ran away, Eunwoo." Maksim's jaw lightly clenches. "Left without a word. Mama and I've looked everywhere for him, tried everything. We contacted the police, private investigators- but it all came up the same - no leads, no sightings."

Eunwoo sits there in shock, eyes large in disbelief. Rian... ran away?

"But why? How-how could you not find him? He couldn't have just-"

"That's what I thought too." Maksim's voice cracks just a second. "But there's been no signs of him since then." He looks hurt, upset, as if an old wound had reopened. "After a few years of looking, mama and I just assumed the worst."

His foot hits the brakes a bit harder than intended, the car jerking slightly. "Sorry," he mutters.

Eunwoo grips the seatbelt, heart hammering. "No. That can't be right." He says quietly. "Rian wouldn't just leave. He's out there somewhere, I know it-"

"Doing what, Eunwoo?" Maksim bites, voice coming out sharper than he meant it to. He glances over, eyes tired and pained. "He had no high school diploma, no college education- hell, no job experience. He wasn't even able to work regular jobs as a teenager."

Maksim shakes his head. "What kind of child would leave his family and make them worry- not contact them for years, leave no traces - and isn't dead?"

Eunwoo doesn't answer, fingers mindlessly fidget with his jacket sleeves as he stares blankly at the dash. He doesn't want to argue.

The silence sits heavy, pressing down like a weight. It wasn't until the cars behind them begin to honk, someone shouting out in Russian, that Maksim realized the light had turned green.

He clears his throat, adjusts his posture, and starts back down the road again. "We can stop by the grave sometime."

Eunwoo doesn't reply, just staring out the window, eyes burning with tears he refuses to let fall.