Chapter Text
It takes twenty minutes by train to travel between Yongsan and Seodaemun.
It takes a little bit more than twenty minutes from Yongsan to Seodaemun, and a little bit less from Seodaemun to Yongsan. There are taxis as the alternative way to travel between both districts, but trains are usually the cheapest option. For a frequent traveler, of course the train would be chosen.
Twenty minutes. That’s quite a lot. It’s enough to shower. Enough for an unhurried breakfast. Enough to proofread an essay. Enough to just sit on the edge of the bed and gather the pieces of consciousness that were scattered the night before.
But here Sehun is, on the train, head occasionally lolling back and forth due to the sleepiness. Doing nothing for twenty minutes, on a barely comfortable seat, surrounded by strangers, is always excruciating. He can’t even fall asleep; he wouldn’t want to miss his stop. He can’t sit carelessly because his uniform shirt would get wrinkled. He can’t even finish the homework he had forgotten to work on the night before because he gets motion sickness easily and reading will only make it worse. He can’t entertain himself with scrolling through his SNS page for the same reason. He can’t chew on anything since he didn’t bring any snack with him.
What a usual gloomy morning for his tired nineteen years old soul.
He can’t be tired yet, though. There’s still the painstaking process of graduating and college entrance test. This is nothing. He’s been through this for three years. It should be nothing.
He tries to ease his mind by looking at the greens of the trees outside the window across his seat. The motion is noticeably fast, and soon enough his eyes are becoming tired keeping up with it. His gaze shifts on another spot. A girl around his age, wearing a uniform from another school, is nodding her head to the music she’s listening to through the earphones attached in her ears. He feels like he had seen her somewhere back at his neighborhood. Is she the youngest daughter in that house right at the corner of the four-way narrow alleys he would pass by on his way to the train station? Or is she the girl who works at the mini mart near the playground a few blocks from his house instead? Or maybe the girl just has a quite common face; one he must’ve seen at least for once in his life.
The thing sleepiness does to your mind is it makes you notice random stuffs and start making imaginary facts to support your equally imaginary conclusion.
His ears then perk up at the sound of a snack package being torn apart.
His head follows the direction to the source of the noise. He finds a boy around his age, a few seats away on the row across his, in a uniform from another school – that Chinese school some neighborhood away from his own school. Dark brown fringes falling neatly above round, crystal-like eyes. The same eyes that are looking back at him. That’s when Sehun notices that the boy probably feels quite embarrassed, being caught in an act. As if opening a packet of Lays is a huge felony.
Holding in his laugh, Sehun turns his gaze away and opts for the ceiling of the train instead. He shifts around on his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position before his bottom starts to feel numb. He checks on his wrist watch; there are still ten minutes left before they’d get off. Somehow the sleepiness is now gone from his eyes. They only sting a little bit.
The man sitting next to him suddenly speaks, receiving a call on his phone. His voice makes Sehun’s mind focuses on his surroundings once more. His ears then pick up the muffled sound of chips being chewed. Crunch, crunch. It’s ridiculous; they’re at least three seats apart so how could the sound be so clear like this?
He can’t help but turn to look at the boy again. The boy with dark brown locks that are looking a little bit disheveled, now that he finally pays more attention to it. There’s a shiny red headphone hanging around the boy’s neck, its color looking so contrast with a small part of the milky white skin that is exposed. Sehun curses at himself for even noticing such random thing. He’s apparently at the highest level of boredom.
The boy looks back at him with the same unfazed look he had given him earlier.
Sehun’s left eyebrow lifts up without him even realizing it; it’s as if it has life on its own. It causes a domino effect on the boy, who’s now giving him a faint frown. They’re engaged in a gaze battle. The boy is still chewing on his chips, and Sehun is still trying not to glance at the chips.
What am I even doing.
In the end, it’s the boy who breaks the tension between them. Round, petite face turns away, looking nonchalant yet also aware. Sehun exhales softly, releasing the breath he has been holding. He, too, looks away. The windows look much more interesting now. An unpleasant feeling arises in his chest, tickling his insides. He keeps a straight face nonetheless.
Now that he pays more attention to the view outside the window, he notices the skies are conspicuously bright today; the hues of blue and white are vivid across the endless canvas of horizon. It’s going to be warm today, he notes on his mind with a sigh. He’s not really that fond of Summer’s warm air.
Someone he knew very well was, though.
Sehun keeps a small, bittersweet smile to himself. He would’ve loved it.
The train slowly comes to a halt. People around him start to gather their belongings. Some of them are already standing up, probably to save time, most likely in hurry. Sehun straightens up his back and puts his backpack on. The girl across him is also ready to stand up. Their gazes meet, and she gives him a shy, polite smile with a slight nod. He repays her the same favor, then they break the connection before it can get awkward. His gaze just happens to fall on the boy from earlier again, and he finds the boy already standing near the exit door. Feet tapping on the floor impatiently. Sehun scoffs. The smile that emerges after it betrays him.
The doors shift open noisily. The boy immediately walks down the stairs, his backpack swaying left and right behind him. He disappears in a matter of seconds. Sehun shakes his head in mild disbelief, standing up to walk to the same exit. Once he gets off the train, the boy is nowhere to be found.
Dramatic ass.
He starts to walk towards the familiar direction to his school. The morning air is still chilly, much to his favor. But he can feel the warmth of the sunray on his face, feathering on his cheeks, easing the cold that has been trapped in his nose. It’s the kind of warmth he likes. It feels like the warmth that would radiate from two palms, pressing against the apple of his cheeks, squeezing them slightly.
It was, and is still, the kind of warmth that he likes dearly.
The last time he felt this kind of warmth was eons ago.
He picks up the speed, wanting to arrive at class as soon as possible. Sehun is only nineteen years old, yet with this tiredness inside him, he feels like he had lived twice that number.
=
“I can’t understand how you still managed to finish the homework when you arrived like five minutes before the class started.”
Not being bothered to look up and see the one who’s talking to him, Sehun just smirks. “What can I say? I’m a genius.”
“Without any actual help either.” He hears the screech of a chair being dragged against the floor next to him. “Why didn’t you finish it last night?”
“I was half way through it when I decided I was sleepy enough to go to bed.” Sehun says flawlessly, as if he had practiced it before.
“Lend me your brain, please.” Jongin lets out an exasperated sigh. “I haven’t been able to think.”
“Not my fault, not my job to help.”
He can vividly imagine Jongin narrowing his eyes at him. “You’re so heartless. I’m going to find a better friend.”
“I’m your only friend, Jongin.”
“Wrong. I’ve been hanging out with Kyungsoo. Joke’s on you.”
Sehun finally rips his gaze off the book he has been reading ever since the break time started and turns to Jongin. “Oh?” he raises an eyebrow. “So you’ve finally made your move, huh?”
The annoyance on Jongin’s face gets swept away in a matter of seconds, replaced with a sheepish expression. “He said he likes seeing people dance and I was like, ‘hey I’ve been in a contemporary dance team for years’ and he was like, ‘oh my God can you show me some of your routines?’ and yeah that was basically how I snatched him.”
Something grows inside Sehun’s chest. Something that is a mix of a few things. Of course he feels joyful for his friend; Jongin has been crushing on Kyungsoo for a year, and this is such a great progress. He feels giddy, too, from witnessing the start to something beautiful that Jongin and Kyungsoo would share. But he can’t deny the bitter feeling that accompanies them. What is this bitterness? It feels like he’s witnessing something that he could’ve had yet was snatched away from him cruelly without him even realizing it.
He can taste the bitterness on his tongue, and he hates it.
“That’s very good to hear, Jongin.” He says nonetheless. “I’m happy for you.”
Jongin leans backwards, blinking at him. “I… didn’t expect this reaction.”
“Huh? What did you expect?”
“I don’t know, maybe you, teasing me? I didn’t expect you to be this nice.”
“I’ve always been nice.”
“Yeah. Nice my ass.”
Sehun rolls his eyes, getting back on his book to pick up the reading. “I’ll ignore you for now.”
“Alright. Go on and hurt my feelings like you always do.”
Snorting, Sehun starts to focus on the words before his eyes. Break time would end soon and he wants to finish the chapter before it does. From his peripheral vision, he sees Jongin wandering his gaze towards the skies outside. “Do you think it will rain?” he hears Jongin’s tiny voice.
Sehun turns at him fully. “It’s sunny.” He deadpans.
Jongin shrugs, lips jutting out into a small pout by nature. “Sometimes rain follows after a very sunny day.”
Somehow, Sehun finds the statement empathize with him.
“It’ll suck.” Sehun follows the line of Jongin’s gaze, up to the skies, further, into the clouds, feeling a sense of longing and unfamiliar familiarity. It feels like he knows what’s behind those white puffs, and it feels like he wants to go there as well. “Such a shame if the rain decides to ruin this pretty view.”
He had a very sunny day for what felt like eternity, like his whole lifetime. He had loved those moments in that sunny day so much.
But rain poured down and washed all the joy away.
“There, there.” Jongin mumbles. “The melancholic face again.”
Sehun stares at Jongin for a moment before he gains his composure back. “What.”
“Why do you always look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you know you don’t belong here and you wish you’re somewhere else, but there’s nothing you can do but sit.”
Coughing out a small chuckle, Sehun closes the book with a loud ‘thump’. “You’re just overanalyzing things again.”
“You know, you can let it out on me. I’m good at keeping secrets. Usually I’ll be out of the place before I could find someone close enough to share a gossip with. The perks of being a nomad.”
Sehun lets out a genuine laugh at that, making Jongin join him as well. They share a laughter for a moment, then Sehun lets it die down gradually as he shifts his gaze towards the skies outside the window once more. “Let’s just,” he says in a small voice, “enjoy this sunny day.”
Summer days are usually like this. Blazing, bright, almost blinding. Sehun has never been fond of it. But he had spent lots of days under the scorching summer sun, and it wasn’t by his own will. And those were the best days in his life.
In those days, he was with two people. Two bright smiles. Two big laughs. Two pair of mischievous eyes. Two hands that would claim each of his own and drag him around; the same hands that would occasionally end up against his cheeks, rubbing, pinching, at the most random time.
In those days, Sehun was with two people that loved Summer.
One of them is now somewhere far, far away, far from everyone’s reach. That person couldn’t bask in the warmth of the Summer sun anymore.
While the other one, well, that person is probably sitting in his class, red headphone secured on his head, blasting on some old Jay Chou songs.
It’s funny, how life works. Sometimes the outcome doesn’t reflect the process. It often comes with unexpected endings. And Sehun always felt he’s too young to learn about it already.
“I’m super hungry!”
“Me too. I didn’t eat anything during lunch time.”
“Yeah you loved soccer more than food. We all know.”
“It’s all Minseok’s fault.”
Sehun stared at two figures, walking ahead of him. Same height, similar frail bodies, twin black locks, twin backpacks adorned with twin keychains; ‘H’.
Same chirpy voice and melodious laughter.
He felt his lips blooming into a smile.
“Chanyeol said his Mom is okay with us doing the group study at their house.”
“Oh my, you’re liking the idea very much, huh?”
“Chanyeol offered it to us himself, you pervert.”
“I’m not the one who’s very excited about it, though.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. Sehun’s eyes were always sensitive to the sunlight. It was Summer, and it was very sunny. He would’ve loved to walk home faster or even ask his sister to pick him up with her car but he’d rather get burnt under the sun than to leave the two figures in front of him.
He loved watching their backs more than sitting in a car with the air conditioner on full blast.
“Oh shit, where’s Hunnie?”
“Hun?”
The two figures turned back to find him. They stopped, and he mimicked.
“What?” Sehun said.
“Geez, why do you walk so slow?” one of them ran to him and immediately grabbed his hand, dragging him forward. “What if you get fever later for staying too long under the sun?”
Sehun rolled his eyes. “Dramatic ass.”
“True! I don’t want to be scolded by your Mom.” The other one grabbed his free hand. He was trapped between them. “Besides I’m super hungry. Does kimchi fried rice sound good?”
“We always eat that.”
“Let’s walk faster before I flood this street with my saliva.”
The three of them laughed wholeheartedly, boisterously. It wasn’t even that funny, but Sehun just loved sharing loud laughter with them.
The day was very sunny.
And they were happy.
Years later, Sehun would learn that sometimes, that’s all that matters.
Sehun stares at his own reflection inside the mirror right in front of him.
The mirror is a little bit tainted with dried remnants of water droplets. The result of it being cleaned with liquid chemicals and rubbed with different cloths for uncountable times. It’s a little bit chipped at the top right tip. If he shifts aside a little, he could see some faint scratches on the surface under the restroom light. It’s still usable, and people tend to ignore the inevitable flaws.
Inevitable flaws.
Flaws that are supposed to emerge, no matter how hard we try to prevent them from doing so, no matter how hard we try to erase them, no matter how hard we try to hide them.
Flaws that are forgiven, understood, overlooked for the sake of the greater good.
Sehun stares at his face in the mirror. Pale white skin, looking contrast with his short-trimmed black locks. A pair of thin eyebrows that frown naturally from time to time. There’s a faint scar at the side of the apple of his right cheek; he got it years ago after falling off his bicycle. His thin lips are quite pink, despite being exposed under the sun for many times. There’s also a little mole on his neck, under the right side of his jaw.
He looks alright, yet he’s not that merry about it.
Because he knows he has his own inevitable flaws. Unlike the mirror before him, his inevitable flaws are lying beneath his face. They’re invisible to naked eyes. They’re hidden pretty well. But one of these days, they’re going to show. He feels the moment nearing. And he both awaits and dreads it.
He looks alright, yet he feels wrong. There’s nothing wrong with him, technically. There really is nothing wrong with him.
It’s just that there is something wrong to him. Probably everything.
But he doesn’t speak of it, doesn’t point it out, for he fears the consequences that would follow if he does.
Something snaps inside his head. It’s the time to get back to the reality.
He shakes his head out of habit; as if it could shake off the heaviness from his mind. With a faint screech of the heels of his sneakers, he turns around and reaches for the handle of the door. It’s when he notices the fizzing sound behind him. He looks back and blinks; he hasn’t turned the faucet off. He immediately goes back and pushes down the stainless-steel handle, stopping the water from running. Even the stainless steel is stained with remnants of soap. Inevitable flaws.
He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again. He finally leaves the restroom.
After exiting the short hall to the restroom, he sees Jongin and Kyungsoo around the table at the corner of the room. They’re in a diner, their usual place to hangout whenever the hunger after school isn’t bearable anymore. Until last week, it was just him and Jongin. Now Kyungsoo is in the picture, and somehow, he knows it’s him who’s going to be the extra cargo on the wagon instead. The thought makes him stifle a laugh.
“Have you guys ordered?” he asks once he arrives at the table, waiting until Jongin is done scooting to the inner corner of the seat. He then sits down once Jongin leans against the wall.
“Your beloved curry omu-rice.” Jongin states.
Sehun nods before turning at Kyungsoo who’s sitting across them. “What are you having?”
“Beef bibimbap.” Kyungsoo smiles politely at him.
Kyungsoo is calm. Collected. Pleasing to look at. He and Jongin would be a quite bizarre mix, and Sehun marvels at the image of it. They’d look pretty together.
“So, Kyungsoo,” Sehun rests his elbows on the table, clasping his hand before resting his jaw on them, “Jongin said you like to watch dance routines.”
From his side, Jongin sighs heavily. “I knew you’d do this.”
“Oh? Yes.” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen for a while, before they relax back and a smile bloom on Kyungsoo’s plump lips. He looks genuine. Another good trait. “I’m not a dancer myself but I love seeing people dance.”
“Really? What is it that you like about it?”
Kyungsoo tilts his head, probably formulating the words he’d use to explain his thoughts. “I love seeing the patterns in choreographies. How people move in sync, how they nail beat by beat. And sometimes they move in different pace but it still makes a pattern? Patterns. I love finding the patterns.”
Sehun nods slowly. “It’s a great way to describe it.” He acknowledges genuinely before glancing at Jongin. His friend looks like he’s in love.
“Do you dance too?” Kyungsoo asks.
He smiles slightly by default. “I used to. Before school stuffs started to stress me out. I guess I’m just not the type of person who can be good in two things at the same time.”
Kyungsoo stays silent for a while, seemingly understanding what he meant. He hopes it wasn’t that clear, how many times he had practiced those words inside his head. “It’s a wise decision that you took.” Kyungsoo speaks again. “Although I hope you’ll be able to dance again, if it’s what you love.”
Sehun shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Sehun here loves books more than dancing.” He feels Jongin’s hand patting his shoulder. “Even today, at break time, he chose a novel rather than a meal.”
“No. I chose the novel than talking to you.” Sehun counters flatly. Kyungsoo lets out a cheery giggle at it, clearly amused.
“There you go, hurting me again.”
Not that long after, Kyungsoo’s beef bibimbap comes first. The smell of gochujang sauce makes Jongin lean forward to appreciate how beautiful the cook had arranged the vegetables and beef on top of rice on the bowl. Soon Sehun’s curry omu-rice follows. Jongin once again looks at the food with sparkly eyes.
“I’m super hungry.” Jongin mouths.
“Please don’t mind his antics.” Sehun speaks at Kyungsoo instead. “He’s just… something else.”
Kyungsoo offers him a gentle, almost shy smile as he mixes everything inside his bowl with a spoon. “He’s a dork.”
Sehun smirks at the blushing Jongin.
Jongin urges him and Kyungsoo to eat first instead of wait for him. Kyungsoo hesitates about it, while Sehun immediately digs in. Jongin keeps belting out the lyrics to a sad song at him, giving Kyungsoo a good laugh. Soon enough his own food comes, and that’s when Jongin finally shuts up and immediately devours his meal.
“You two seem so close.” Kyungsoo comments, already scooping his first bite.
Jongin’s head perks up, nodding excitedly. “We’ve been friends since I moved in!” He exclaims, mouth full of food.
“He moved into the school six months after I did.” Sehun adds with a chuckle.
Kyungsoo smiles before taking a bite in.
Sehun turns at Jongin, raising an eyebrow. “Stop talking with your mouth full. If you choke later I won’t help you.” he chides. Jongin rolls his eyes as he chews, making him chuckle. Then his eyes fell on the dish Jongin is gobbling.
It’s fried rice. Orange-ish, almost reddish fried rice. With bits of beef and kimchi mixed in it.
Kimchi fried rice.
He hasn’t had it for quite long.
He had forgotten it exists.
Some moment later, he hears Kyungsoo asking something at Jongin. That’s when he snaps out of the trance. He quietly goes back to his own food, continuing to finish it. The curry tastes amazing. Splendid. The rice is soft and warm, quite savory, mixed with edamame beans. Just as how he likes it. The omelet that blankets the rice is fluffy and half runny, garnished with barbeque sauce. A marvelous dish. Rich of taste.
But the more bites he shoves into his mouth, the more the taste disappear.
What a shame. It’s such a great dish. His tongue isn’t appreciating it well enough.
He shoves and shoves.
His heart is pounding severely in his chest. He keeps shoving. He can actually hear it beating in an alarmed pace in his head. He keeps shoving nonetheless.
“ – hun!”
He stops abruptly. The fogs in his eyes clear away. He finds both Jongin and Kyungsoo looking at him, worry vivid in their face.
“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asks with a small voice.
“Dude,” Jongin pushes the bottled water towards him, “if you choke, I wouldn’t know how to save you.”
Sehun gulps down. Finally he’s aware that he’s gulping. And suddenly his throat hurts. His jaw hurts. His chest hurts. He drops the spoon from his hand and grabs the bottled water, uncaps it and forces his throat to push down the food once more before he gulps down the liquid. It pushes the food further down. He finally breathes freely.
“Are you… okay?” Kyungsoo repeats.
“Wow.” He mumbles after making sure he won’t choke. “I must’ve been so hungry.”
Jongin snorts at him. “That’s what you get for choosing that confusing novel over lunch.”
Sehun nods, feeling like a broken puppet. “Yeah. My karma.”
They continue eating. Sehun finds himself a little bit hesitating now. But he picks the spoon back up and digs into his food again, being more careful this time. Kyungsoo asks something at him, and he eventually engages himself into the little talk he wasn’t aware of before. He laughs when they laugh. He smirks when Jongin gets a little bit awestruck at Kyungsoo. Their afternoon goes well, fairly.
This is what he’s good at. Picking himself back up and then pretending everything is and has always been alright.
It’s alright. He can’t be the only one who does this to survive. Everybody falls, and everybody gets up to walk again – whether they treat their scraped knees or not, whether they can afford to treat their scraped knees or are forced to let the wound dry by itself instead.
=
It doesn’t rain.
Sehun stares at the window of his bedroom through lidded eyes, bringing up the hem of his blanket closer to his face. The sun is starting to set down. It must be somewhere around six pm. He had taken approximately three hours of nap. He sighs; his body is going to ache.
He gets up to sit, still rubbing his face against the fabric of his blanket. Slightly disoriented, he tries to recall if he had dreamed of something throughout his nap. He finds nothing. Just black. A whole second that was actually three hours. One moment he fell into a deep slumber, and next he woke up with a dry throat. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. Nothing comes in mind. He knows there was nothing, yet he still wishes there was something.
Why won’t you come into my dreams?
With a heavy feeling inside his chest, he yanks the blanket off, scoots towards the edge of the Queen-sized bed and puts his legs down.
At least we can talk there.
I have some things I’ve got to tell you.
He twists his shoulders in a circular motion to shake off the ache. Tilting his head left and right, he gets off his bed and walks towards the door to his bedroom. His hand hovers above the handle, and he stays in silence for a moment, a little stunned. Something swirls inside his head; a small dizziness, like a lonely fish swimming around its little tank after realizing that everything inside its little world is artificial. He squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them again. Tiny stars scatter around his vision for a while before everything clears up. He grabs the handle and twists it, pulling the door open.
“Sehun?” a melodious voice calls for him the moment he appears out of his bedroom. “Oh my, look at you.”
Sehun finds his sister standing in the middle of the living room, not too far from where he is. She’s wearing a baby pink casual cotton dress, its loose hem falling gracefully around her body. Her long black locks are dancing along the movements of her head. Since when did his sister get this pretty? Or maybe she has always been like that. Always smiling, always cheerful, always gentle and patient.
He finds it weird, noticing these things out of the blue.
“Why are you home this early?” Sehun asks, his voice raspy due to the remnants of sleep.
Serin smirks. “My evening class got cancelled. The perks of college life.”
Nodding, Sehun lets out a big yawn, stretching his arms upwards out of habit. He doesn’t want to hear the word ‘college’ for the meantime.
“Wash up and come to the dining room, ‘kay?” Serin says as she closes her laptop on the coffee table, which Sehun finally pays attention to now. “Mom and Dad will be home soon.”
“Okay, noona.” Sehun starts walking towards the bathroom. “Where are they?”
He halts his steps when he notices his sister isn’t answering directly. He turns sideways to look at her. She stares back at him with an unreadable emotion on her face.
“At the Lu’s.” she finally answers.
Sehun holds his gaze on his sister for another moment.
“Hmm.” He hums. “Okay.” He yawns again before he spins on his heels and continues to walk towards the bathroom.
He closes the door and goes for the sink, turning on the faucet to let the water flow. He brings his hands together to cup the water and watches as the space between his palm gets filled. The water reaches the brim and eventually spills over his wrists. If he was wearing a long-sleeved tee, the hem of sleeves would’ve been soaked by now. It’s when he feels water running to the tips of his elbows that he snaps off his reverie. He ends up letting go of the amount of water in his hands and gather some again. He splashes them on his face and rubs his palms against it, wetting the tip of his short fringes during the process. He grabs a bottle of mouthwash and takes some into his mouth, rinsing thoroughly. Not being fond of the taste, he spits the liquid out and rinses his mouth with water this time. He never liked the taste of mouthwash.
After making sure that he doesn’t taste the liquid anymore, he turns the faucet off and pulls out some tissue from its box, dabbing them on his face and neck; he’s feeling lazy to grab a towel from the cabinet. He crumples the soaked tissue in his hand and throws them into the bin next to the sink. He fixes his pants and stays still for a moment before he turns around and walks out of the bathroom.
Never, even for once, did he take a glance at his own reflection in the mirror.
He was scared of what he would’ve found if he looked into his own eyes.
When he arrives at the dining room, he finds his sister already waiting for him, snorting at something on her phone. There’s a huge plate in the middle of the dining table, filled with cutlets of beef, probably marinated in sweet and savory sauce. Around the plate are smaller plates of side dishes. He cringes when he finds a stack of pickled red ginger in one of them. Serin is going to make him eat it.
There are only two bowls of rice, seemingly for each of them.
“Aren’t they coming home soon?” Sehun asks, already settling himself on the chair, sitting across his sister.
Serin shakes her head. “They said they’d go on a mini date once they’re done with the Lu’s. Ah, Mom said she’s going to get our strawberry cake on their way home later!”
Sehun chuckles when he sees Serin’s face lighting up just by talking about their favorite strawberry cake. It has long been a thing for them, sharing a medium sized strawberry cake together, immediately scooping from the whole cake instead of cutting them into slices. They both have sweet tooth; thus, they share a big amount of love for cakes and chocolate products.
“Should we start eating now?” he asks.
Putting her phone down, Serin clasps her hands together and intertwines her fingers. “Pray first.”
Sehun mimics his sister’s move, locking his fingers together and casts his gaze down over the bowl of hot rice in front of him. It’s a navy blue rice bowl, the pair to Serin’s red cup, which she had won from that famous amusement park last year. The cups have prints of Mickey and Minnie Mouse on them, scattered around the edge. Sehun recalls telling Serin to give the blue bowl to her boyfriend instead, but she just raised an eyebrow at him. ‘And you expect me to ask for the bowl back if we ever break up, hm?’
“Done!” he looks up the moment Serin announces it. He grabs the chopsticks at the side of his bowl and picks up a piece of meat from the plate, dipping in into a cup of sauce. He takes a mouthful of it and chews, already appreciating how tender the meat is.
“Is it good?” Serin asks with bright eyes.
Sehun nods genuinely. “How could you be so good at cooking?” he asks rhetorically.
Smiling sheepishly, Serin nudges her jaw towards the red ginger. “Would you eat it tonight?”
“No.”
“Then have some of the bok choy, will you?”
“Were they stir fried with garlic? No.”
He looks up to Serin’s unamused face.
“I mean, no doubt I’ll eat them.” Sehun mumbles as he immediately reaches for the vegetable, picking some of the cooked leaves and drops it on the top of his rice. He then gets another slice of meat and puts it on the bok choy leaf and lifts them together.
“Good boy.” Serin smirks when he takes them in and starts to chew.
Sehun smiles anxiously. Only Serin can make him eat vegetables without that much of a fuss. “But really, though, this meat is so savory. How did you make it?”
“By mixing up this and that.” Serin shrugs, picking up a slice for herself. “That’s the point of cooking after all.”
Almost choking on the food in his mouth, Sehun stifles a laugh. “Mom will cry if she hears that.”
“They’re missing out a big time. How dare they choose to eat out?” Serin lets out an exasperated sigh, faking the disappointment on her face.
“I know, right.” Sehun nods. “Why did they have to go there anyway?”
It’s seconds later when Sehun finally realizes what he had asked.
“Oh, well,” Serin immediately counters. It’s obvious that she’s taken aback yet doesn’t want to let the atmosphere fall down. “To discuss things about the… you know, the memorial.”
Sehun replies with nodding. He feels like a fool. I don’t care. “Yeah. I kind of… forgot.” I don’t care.
Serin smiles at him. He doesn’t have the heart to point out how forced it looks. He watches as his sister picks another slice of meat and places it on his bowl. “They want to help with the preparation, like last year.”
Nodding again, Sehun stares at the amount of rice that’s left in his bowl. A piece of meat lies lonely next to it. “Hmm.” He hums. I don’t want to care.
“It’s already been two years. Time flies quickly,” Serin adds softly, “doesn’t it, Hun-ah?”
Sehun knows his sister is looking at him, trying to meet his gaze, but he opts to stare at the plates in front of him instead. The red ginger suddenly looks tempting. He picks a little amount of it up carefully. He can already sniff it.
“Even if it feels like time has stopped, like we won’t be going anywhere further, like there is nothing more that will come to us, time still runs, flies. Without us even realizing it, it’s been two years.” Serin continues.
He adds the red ginger on top of the piece of meat in his bowl then picks them up together, putting them into his mouth. He starts to chew. The taste is, unexpectedly to him, marvelous. He likes it. He likes how strong and distinctive it tastes.
“Even if we get through it with tears instead of laughter, even if we feel like every day is longer than a century,” her voice gets smaller, “we still get through it in the end.”
He gulps down. It was good. He should try more. He lifts up his chopsticks and searches for the plate, when finally, his gaze meets Serin’s gentle, warm one.
“Please get to the point.” He finally croaks out.
Serin just keeps her gaze on him for a moment. Then she shakes her head a little. “There is no point.” She smiles. “I’m just being poetic.”
“You have something to tell me.” Sehun points out. “You always do.”
“And I’m always good at keeping it in, especially when I know you don’t need to hear them.” She says, delicate yet firm. “No worries, Hun-ah.”
Sehun knows his sister means what she said. She’s a trustworthy person. But what does he know? What could he be sure of? After learning that everything can tumble down in a matter of second when he thought it’s doing fine, what else could he be sure of? “You mean it?”
Serin nods. “I mean it.” She says, still with gentle voice, yet firm and loud enough to reach his clouded mind and shaken judgment.
After he gets those words, he finally realizes the breath he has been holding on. The air barges into his system, filling his lungs with a hit, making his chest hurts out of sudden. He tries not to let the chaos inside him shows. He has no energy to deal with Serin’s worry. It’s not like she’s oblivious about it; after all, she knows him the most.
Aside of them two.
“Do you want me to stay with you while you work on your assignment?” Serin says, already finishing her bowl. “Maybe I can help with typing.”
Sehun wanders his gaze over his bowl once more. He thinks for a moment. He’s not really seeking for a company, but he figures out that he also doesn’t want to be alone tonight. Who knows what his mind might do to him once the silence gets too much. “It’s a writing task, though.” He mumbles. “But I’ll be working in front of the TV. You’re going to be watching that new drama, right?”
Serin nods with a smile; it looks brighter this time. “I’ll take care of the snacks.”
They spend the night in front of the TV at the living room; Sehun sitting on the carpet, working on his homework slowly, and Serin surfing through the channels with a bowl of nachos on her laps. Sehun constantly asks his sister’s opinion about the answers he’s going to put on his book. Serin has always been helpful when it comes to studying; she’s always been smarter than her friends and classmates in general, which was why she easily skipped a year in middle school and another year in high school. She’s only a year older than him, yet she’s already on her third year in college. And somehow always being a step ahead of everybody else adds to the level of wisdom she possesses.
Sehun remembers wanting to be like Serin. Always ahead of everybody else. Looking cool and casual while doing it.
It was years ago, before he found that he had all the reasons to stay on the normal track.
Now that the reason has long gone, it’s already too late for him to speed up. He can’t speed up when it’s already a challenge for him to walk without tumbling down.
He finishes writing down the answer to the last question of his homework. There are small spots of ink on his middle finger, near the nail. He frowns at them, but then lets the annoyance go as he leans back and take one last look over his homework. His frown only gets deeper. “Noona,” he calls, “doesn’t it look tilted to you?”
Serin hovers above his shoulder. “What?”
“My writing.” He says. “The starting spot. It goes inward more and more every row.”
“It looks fine to me…?” his sister says.
Sehun looks back at him. “You’re not even sure.”
“I am!” Serin points at the page. “Your writing is neat, really.”
He turns back at his book. “Why does it look tilted to me?”
He then hears Serin chuckle. “Even if it’s not straight, you can’t do anything about it. It’s written with pen after all. You’re not thinking of rewriting everything, right?”
Sehun still stares at his writing. What a mess. He should’ve written more slowly. Should’ve paid attention to it. “I can cover them with correction tape.”
“And make it look worse?” Serin laughs. “Just leave it be, Hun-ah.”
As what his sister tells him, he leaves it be. He closes his notebook and leans back against the edge of the couch. He feels a hand ruffling his hair.
He doesn’t get it, how the world works. Maybe he does, but he’s not satisfied with what he found. Why does everything happen out of everyone’s control? Even when they felt like they knew what they were doing, in the end they get the result they didn’t expect, and even if they know how to fix it, they can’t just go and do it because some things are meant to be left wrong in order to save the last amount of right that’s left. He hates that aspect of life. He feels like he’s prone to betrayal. Like in all of those years he was lulled, blinded by a mirage, and by the time he woke up, everything was a mess.
Nowadays he’s scared to be happy, because it’s like whenever he’s happy, something would go wrong as the price.
Life is such a betrayer.
He brings all of these thoughts into his bedroom, sending them to dream land. It’s in pitch black, anyway. He can throw them into it and pretend they don’t exist as long as he can.
“What do you guys want to be in ten years?”
Not even a second after, Sehun found himself letting out an annoyed groan, along with the boy who was sprawled on the carpet next to him. He found an eraser near his arm, grabbed it and immediately threw it on another boy who had spoken a moment ago, sitting with knees up on the chair before the desk.
“For God’s sake, corgi butt, it’s only the second month of our first year of high school!” the boy next to him whined.
Sehun shook his head lazily. “Disappointing.”
“I was just asking.” The boy on the chair pouted, massaging the spot where Sehun’s eraser had hit. “Seriously, you can tell me you’re going to be in Avengers and I’d still hype you up!”
“Ow, I’d like to be Spiderman.” Sehun mumbled.
“Spiderman isn’t even in Avengers.” The boy next to him snorted.
“Excuse me, have you actually seen the trailer?”
“It’s all a hoax.”
“You can actually Google the cast –“
“Hey, twins,” Sehun and the boy next to him immediately turned at their friend again, “you guys haven’t answered.”
The boy next to him let out a heavy sigh. “Well,” he paused for a moment, “in ten years… I want to be… hmm, let’s see… the creator of a very famous app, maybe?”
“Oh, like Snapchat.”
“Or Vine.”
“That’s so…” the boy on the chair mumbled, “lame.”
“You said you’re going to hype us up!”
“What about you, Hun-ah?” the boy asked instead.
Sehun didn’t answer right away. He didn’t know what to. Instead of thinking about what to tell his friend, he decided to just bask in the moment, the presence of his best people around him, the moonlight that shone through the window of the bedroom, and the coziness and warmth that was lingering in the air. It has been their habit every weekend to have a sleepover at one of their houses. And whenever it was a sleepover, they’d stay up late until two or three in the morning, just talking about random things.
His gaze focused on his friend on the chair. He was still waiting for Sehun’s answer, but there was no rush and serious curiosity on his face. He was resting his chin on his knees. Sehun then glanced at his other friend next to him, and found that the said friend was also looking back at him, calm yet expecting. Something in his chest throbbed. For a moment, he was trapped inside the depth of round eyes, full of warmth and familiarity. The owner of the eyes smiled at him softly. It only made his heart hammer faster inside his ribcage.
Pretty. Sehun wanted to say, to the boy who was still staring back at him. Your eyes are so pretty.
He wasn’t sure of what he wanted to be in ten years, but in that moment, he just wished that in ten years, they’d still have this kind of bonding time. No matter what path they’d take, no matter how busy they might be.
He opted to turn at the boy on the chair again. “What about you?” he asked back instead.
The boy giggled. “As expected from our Sehunnie, mysterious as ever.” He grinned before he leaned back against the chair. “Well, I think I made it clear for you guys. I want to be a singer. Nation’s top singer.”
“Oh, you want to be in a boy group.” The boy next to him chuckled.
“What? No! I want to be a singer! Like Rain, or K.Will. Or Sung Shikyung. Roy Kim. I want to be a singer!”
“You’ll get very famous if you’re in a boy group, though.” Sehun nodded in agreement with his friend. “Like Lee Taemin.”
“What the fuck, guys.”
“But I feel like you can make it.” The boy on the carpet next to him said, genuineness filling his voice. “No, you will make it, if you start.”
His friend on the chair blinked at them, hiding his lips behind his folded arms that were resting on his knees. “You do?”
The boy next to him nodded. Sehun found himself smiling as well.
“And when you’re famous, you can date Chanyeol and make a very huge scandal.”
“What on the actual fuck, Bambi?!”
Sehun snorted so hard.