Chapter Text
March 3rd, 2012
Donghyuck is twelve when he falls in love for the first time.
The chill breeze bites at the bare skin of his neck. Donghyuck’s mother reminds him every morning to bring his windbreaker or he'll get sick, but Donghyuck knows that the whole ‘being cold gives you a cold’ thing is nothing but a myth. So off he hops to school without an extra layer, a bright, bubbly boy plucking flowers from bushes as he ambles along the sidewalk.
Homeroom is filled with friends showing holiday pictures to each other, boys complaining about allergies, and girls giggling over magazine photoshoots. Donghyuck takes a seat by the window and eats his kimbap in silence, waiting for the buzz to settle down.
But the hum of conversation never really dies, not after Mr. Seo walks in with a beaming smile. He holds a piece of paper in his hand and announces that there’s a transfer student coming in for the semester. Donghyuck’s classmates whisper animatedly as a small guy with neatly combed black hair shuffles in. Donghyuck sits up straighter in his seat, watching carefully as the boy introduces himself in lilted Korean.
Huang Renjun.
He says he comes from some province in China, but Donghyuck doesn’t quite catch the exact name of the place because he’s much too focused on the snaggletooth that peeks out when he talks. Renjun takes a seat three rows in front of Donghyuck, and Donghyuck can’t seem to look away for the entirety of two periods.
Their first proper interaction happens after school on a lazy afternoon. Donghyuck likes to work in the peace of an empty classroom instead of his bedroom, so he often goes to claim uninhabited rooms after the last bell rings for the day. On that particular day, Donghyuck opens up a window, letting the pollen-scented air waft into the space around him as he reads over his history textbook. He's halfway through his second chapter when he hears a silvery voice amongst the chirping birds. Curious, Donghyuck peeks out the window and is pleasantly surprised by the view of a boy, sitting under the large cherry blossom tree near the football field, with a book in his lap. He sings to himself, absentmindedly fiddling with the grass beside him. Donghyuck watches, entranced, as the transfer student performs effortlessly, passionately, as if nobody's watching.
Except there is someone watching, someone who claps with vigor when Renjun's done singing. The boy's head whips around fast, his eyes wide like a deer in the headlights when he spots Donghyuck waving through the window. Donghyuck gives him an honest compliment, and there's something about the bashful smile on the Chinese boy's face that sticks in Donghyuck's mind until the late hours of the night. There's a feeling in his stomach that he can't digest, something not entirely unpleasant, but he decides to sleep it off anyway.
They become friends after Donghyuck approaches him the next morning and asks him to eat lunch on the roof together. It becomes a sacred place for them; they spend many an afternoon up by the railings, doing homework, people-watching, throwing paper planes and seeing how far they fly. Donghyuck notices that he feels happier around Renjun, and wonders if it's normal for his heart to skip a beat whenever they make eye contact in class.
Renjun is a mystery. He’s sharp on the edges, words dripping with sarcasm as he bites back at Donghyuck. He’s also soft and delicate, like the curve of a flower petal. His duality is intriguing, if not a little amusing at times. Donghyuck, like an immature child, pulls on Renjun’s metaphorical pigtails because he loves seeing the tips of his ears turning pink in frustration. He flicks Renjun’s shoulder when he passes by his desk, knowing that Renjun will eventually counter it with an equally petty move.
Somewhere between the banter and the hushed conversations under pillow forts, Donghyuck finally has a realization that he cares for Renjun in a non-platonic way. He doesn't remember the exact moment he falls in love, but it doesn't really matter. Every moment with Renjun becomes brighter, happier, and all of a sudden the flowers smell sweeter and the pollen seems less irritating.
Like spring itself, Renjun is peaceful. He keeps the windows open in his living room and puts the radio on. He likes puzzles and board games that require strategy and skill. Donghyuck takes him out to the countryside to pick strawberries, and even though he doesn't say much, he jumps in with an opinion when there's a lapse in conversation.
Renjun finds joy in small and elegant things: drinking tea under the windchimes, picking flowers for a bouquet, making lanterns from scratch. He teaches Donghyuck how to love the world, but Donghyuck finds himself falling deeper for Renjun instead.
And so time passes, as it does, without any regard for slowly blossoming emotions of a young twelve year old. Renjun came so suddenly into Donghyuck's life and leaves just as fast, like cascading cherry blossoms in the spring breeze. By the end of the semester, he bids Donghyuck farewell with a hug and a pinky promise to stay in touch.
It's enough, just barely enough, to soothe Donghyuck's broken heart.