Chapter Text
Minho hurtles around the corner at the speed of light. It's almost as if he knows Chan has just cleaned the tiles, giving his socks the same effect as if he were wearing roller-skates. In one step, he manages to practically fly across the room, narrowly missing a collision with the kitchen table. He eventually comes to a stop about a metre away from the wall.
"Minho-"
By the wide-eyed expression of amazement on his face, maybe he didn't know that Chan had just cleaned the floor. Either that, or he just didn't know it would cause him to go flying. Not that it matters now. Once one child has discovered something, it won't take long for the rest of them to come trampling through.
Chan makes eye contact with Minho.
For a split second, he can see exactly what's going through his mind. He's weighing up how much trouble he'll be in (not much, Chan is tragically lenient when it comes to punishment) versus the chaos he could cause (lots, especially since all the kids are supposed to be in bed by now).
But that split second of hesitation is Minho's downfall.
"Oh no you don't," Chan manages to say as he lunges out towards him, grabbing Minho's skinny arm right before he can take off across the tiles again. Minho shrieks, an effect that loses most of its power due to the fact he can't stop giggling, and struggles to no avail. "What are you doing out of bed, young man?"
"Nothing!"
"Hmmm. Something tells me not to believe you." Chan manages to wrestle Minho into sitting down. He's stopped tickling him now, since it's not a great idea to get him so worked up when he's meant to be going to sleep, but doesn't unwrap his arms from around his chest. "Maybe it's the fact that your nose won't stop growing."
Minho swats his hands away when he tries to pinch his nose, the last few giggles sounding more hiccups at they catch in his throat. "Don't be silly, Daddy, I'm not Pinocchio."
"Then what are you doing out of bed so late, hmm?"
He picks Minho up with both hands, but quickly puts him down again. He's getting heavy. Chan can remember when he was just a little baby like it was yesterday, and now he's getting too heavy to be picked up. Time has just flown. It seems unreal that Minho is seven already. It had seemed like he'd be tiny forever, but now he's just getting so... big.
The silence he gets in return is all that he needs as an answer.
"How about you tell me as we head up the stairs," he suggests. It's not really a suggestion, as per se, as he's going to be forced to go to bed at some point no matter what happens, but Minho doesn't know that. He frowns, as if thinking it over, and then nods.
Cleaning the rest of the kitchen can wait. Chan's more surprised that it took over half an hour before someone interrupted him.
By the time they reach the stairs, he's worked out what must have happened. Minho drags him with surprising force, using his other arm as an anchor to scramble upwards as quickly as possible. Seungmin's voice is just audible from the bottom of the stairs, becoming more and more distinct as they make their way upwards.
He's reading a book about dinosaurs.
They always read to the kids before bed, it's a habit since Minho was a child that they never grew out of. There's a whole case full of stories in Jeongin's room, and each one is equally as loved and worn as the next. Every page practically has a tear or a stain, but no one has the heart to throw any of them out.
The ones about dinosaurs, however, are just slightly more special than the rest.
They have their own special shelf in Seungmin's room, right next to the rest of his dinosaur themed memorabilia. He's got dinosaurs on the wallpaper, his duvet and pillow case, on his lightshade and curtains. The floor is covered with plastic toy dinosaurs, each lined up in neat order.
The special shelf works out quite well, since Jeongin often goes to bed slightly earlier than the rest of the kids. It means they don't have to open his door to return the book, whilst keeping Seungmin's dinosaur-fuelled obsession happy.
He's more than happy to read to the other kids, just as long as it's about his obsession. He's surprisingly adept at reading for his age, even if his voice can be a little monotone sometimes. Besides, Chan can't complain. He usually reads them another story afterwards, and Seungmin's help means he has more time to clean up around the house.
"I don't want to hear about the dinosaurs again," Minho says. He's reached the top of the stairs now, clamouring over the stairgate with surprising agility. They only have it there for the younger kids, more specifically Jisung and Jeongin. Minho knows exactly how to open it properly, he just chooses not to. Chan doesn't chide him for climbing over it, though. Now is not the right time.
"Again?" Chan says, trying to get him to expand.
They're standing in the hallway now, just far enough that they can talk without disturbing story time, but can still make out everyone inside the room. Seungmin is tucked up under the covers, little hands grabbing onto the book he's reading out loud. Jisung and Hyunjin are squished together at the other end. They'd bought bean bags specifically so that they didn't all have to fit in the bed together, but it looks like Changbin is the only one using them tonight.
"We listen to the dinosaurs every night," Minho says, crossing his arms. He's staring into the bedroom just like Chan, but he's frowning. "I know Seungmin likes them, but I want to read something else! Why do we always have to read what Seungmin wants?"
Ah.
Maybe Chan should have expected this.
Hyunjin, Jisung and Jeongin are still young. Bedtime stories is more about the experience than the book itself. Changbin, although being a bit older, has only been living at their house since the summer. He's still more withdrawn that Chan knows his real personality is, and it's likely that he hasn't actually heard any of the stories repeated yet. They do have an awful lot.
But Minho is seven. They can't expect him to sit still for the same stories as the others, not when he can read more challenging books by himself. They can't expect him to want to listen to the same dinosaurs walking through the same fields every night.
Story time might need to have some changes.
"Tell you what," Chan says, holding out his hand for Minho to take, "How about I start reading you stories from tomorrow? You can still listen to the dinosaurs if you want to, but you and Changbin are big boys now. There are a lot of books out there that I could read you, after I've read to everyone else."
Minho frowns. He takes Chan's hand, which is a good sign, but he still seems deep in thought. "You don't do all the voices properly," he says eventually.
That's the problem? Chan doesn't know whether he should be offended or not. "I can try harder?" He offers, still not sure whether Minho meant to insult him, "You'd get to choose the books, if that makes up for it?"
And-
"Really?" says Minho, looking right up at Chan and beaming. It showcases the gaps where he's missing some of his teeth even more than usual. "You mean it?"
"Of course."
They've gained the attention of the other kids now. Chan waves a hand and mouths 'a few more minutes', telling them that he'll be back soon. He tugs on Minho's hand, guiding him towards the room and away from where they could possibly disturb Jeongin. It's hard enough to put him to sleep the first time, let alone when he's just been woken up.
Chan smiles at Seungmin apologetically. They must have interrupted the story session, he thinks, but Seungmin shakes his head. "I finished," he says, in a way that's completely unsubtle and completely Seungmin.
"Daddy!" Hyunjin says, bouncing up and down on top of the bedcovers. There's so much energy in his movement that Chan is surprised he hasn't toppled off the edge of the bed yet. He soon spots a large dinosaur toy in his lap, keeping him weighed down, and that solves that question. "Did you see how froggy it is?"
Chan frowns. How... froggy? There's something not quite right there, since he's pretty sure that when he looks outside, he won't see hundreds of frogs bouncing around.
A quick glance outside confirms it. "You mean foggy."
Chan lets go of Minho's hand, letting the boy throw himself onto the pile of bean bags, and crosses the room. Now that he's closer, it's even easier to see the bad weather. Sure enough, he can barely see two metres outside the house. There's a thin slither of illumination from the streetlight right outside Seungmin's room, but even that's distorted and faded. He can't make out any individual shapes past the thick grey blanket.
"Can we go out and run into each other?" says Hyunjin, as if they're not all tucked up and ready for bed. "Please?"
"You can go and run around outside," Changbin sniffs. He clutches Gyu to his chest, tiny body almost swallowed up by his bean bag. "I think it will be very cold and soggy."
"Are there really any frogs?" Jisung asks. He's staring right at the window, probably using Chan's voice as a guide of which curtains have been opened. "I wanna visit the frogs. I don't mind getting cold and soggy for frogs."
Chan tries to stifle a laugh, rather unsuccessfully. There's no use arguing this late at night. The kids have an almost other-worldly sense for ganging up on him about the most pointless things. Especially when Seungmin is beginning to get fidgety. The best course of action is just to make conditional promises and hope they've forgotten about it by tomorrow. "There aren't any frogs, Sung. We can go out and run around if the fog is still there tomorrow morning. It's a bit too late for it now."
Hyunjin pouts. He knows that he'd have a much better chance of winning them over if Minho was on his side, but the older boy doesn't seem fussed either way. "Fine," he says, climbing off of the bed.
Chan smiles over at them. He presses a kiss to Seungmin's forehead, before heading back to the doorway. Hyunjin takes one of his hands, knowing what comes next, and pulls Jisung to his feet behind him.
Except, that's not how it's happening tonight.
"Sorry boys," Chan says, "I'm tucking in Minho and Changbin first tonight. Can I trust you to wait in the corridor outside for me?"
Hyunjin's face has fallen, but the fact he's been asked to do something quickly makes up for it. "In the bedroom?" He suggests.
Chan nods. "Sure." Hyunjin and Jisung don't wait for a second longer, making their way back down the corridor with the babble of anticipation. A change in routine - no matter how small - always sets off their imaginations.
There's a reason why he wanted to tuck Minho and Changbin in first. He can explain his idea of reading to them separately as he takes them downstairs. Only Changbin actually sleeps down there, in the converted study for a lack of any actual spare bedrooms, but Minho insists on coming down with him anyway. He likes to make sure that his cat plushies - Soonie, Doongie and Dori - say goodnight to Gyu. Changbin doesn't seem too fussed either way, but when Minho was sick, he'd made sure to do the same for every single night Minho couldn't.
It's perfect timing, really.
He closes the curtains behind him, and pays no more attention to the fog.
---
Chan wakes up to his phone ringing.
It takes him a moment to place the song - Minho, the little rascal, had somehow worked out how to change ringtones about a month ago, and the house had been thrown into chaos ever since. Instead of Chan's familiar anime opening, he'd suddenly be assaulted with whatever was at the top of the charts. The phone would always be left in a strange place as well, not making it any easier to locate.
Minho changed the song practically every three days. It's almost as if he knew that was just long enough for Chan to start remembering which song went with which device, only for it to be changed all over again. And if that was bad enough, thing's hadn't gotten any better when Hyunjin had gotten involved.
He'd decided it would be funny to set their ringtones to 'Baby Shark'.
It had just been annoying, at first. Chan couldn't work out why they'd set it, since he could never work out whether the pop music was coming from his phone or the radio, and he'd thought they had enough amusement watching Chan sprint into the kitchen to take a call for work only to find that Minho'd turned on the radio.
Except-
The kids loved Baby Shark. To the point where if Chan let the phone ring for more than five seconds, there'd be a household revolution until the entire song was played.
And so, when Chan hears his phone ringing, bleary eyed and squinting into the darkness of the room, he doesn't even check the screen to see who's calling. The clock on the wall says it's 5AM in letters that are all too bright. 5AM is definitely too early for a Baby Shark dance party.
"Hello?"
Gosh, it's really too early for phone calls. He could have sworn he'd put his phone on silent to avoid this exact situation. With one hand, he unsuccessfully tries to wipe some of the sleep from his eyes.
Hopefully, this is just a wrong number. The bed is still warm around his lower body, and he's pretty sure that if he can put the phone down soon enough, he'll fall back asleep almost immediately. What kind of person is even phoning people at 5AM in the first place? The sooner he can tell them to 'go away', the better.
"Am I speaking to Bang Chan?"
Okay, maybe not a wrong number then. "That's me. Sorry, can I ask who this is?"
There's a pause. Definitely someone who knows him, as they must have assumed he'd seen the contact before he picked up. He doesn't recognise the voice, though. Or maybe he does, and it's just too early in the morning. It could be any of the kid's voices talking to him for all he knows, and he'd still probably ask who it was.
"This is Yellow Wood Foster Agency."
And suddenly Chan is fully awake. He swings himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes slightly more successfully this time. There's some snuffling from the wall behind him, in the section where the plaster is painfully thin and his room borders onto another. Careful not to wake anyone, Chan makes his way across the room. He opens the bedroom door as quietly as he can, stumbling down the hall with sleep-clumsy legs, until he finally reaches one of the upstairs bathrooms.
"Yes? What is it?" Has the bathroom lock always been this difficult to close? The lights seem too bright, burning into his eyelids as he finally fumbles the door shut. "Is there a problem with one of the kids' paperwork? What's wrong?"
"Oh, no. Nothing of the sort. This is an entirely different matter."
Chan barely has enough time to breathe a sigh of relief. Nothing to do with them. That's great. That's - his heartrate is already beginning to go down, the adrenaline beginning to fade from his veins. The light of the bathroom is beginning to give him a headache, but he doesn't care. It's nothing to do with his kids.
"I know this request may come as very... unorthodox, but there's been a situation. Do you have a spare room to possibly care for another child?"
Out of all the things Chan was expecting, that was not one of them.
They don't have room for another child. It's already cramped in the house with seven of them, there's no way they have room for someone else. Jeongin and Minho's rooms are too small to share. Jisung and Hyunjin are already roommates. There's no telling how Seungmin would react to having someone else in his room, especially when routine is already so important to him. Changbin is still sleeping in the half-converted study, for goodness sake.
He rubs his eyes again, still not convinced this isn't a dream. "What? No - not really."
But... He sits down on the edge of the bathtub. The world is still blurry, the lights are still too bright. It's too early in the morning to think straight, and maybe that's why his walls are crumbling down this easily.
He's always been told that his heart is too big. It's why he'd never turned down fostering any of his kids, no matter the issues that came with them. It's why he's adopted so many of them. Chan knows that if someone more rational had picked up the phone, they would have declined the offer swiftly and professionally. That poor kid would be found a home just as easily somewhere else.
But Chan isn't rational.
"What's the situation?"
The person on the other end of the line sighs. They've probably had a long night, only due to get even longer if Chan turns down the offer. "There was a car crash late last night in the district near here. Cause still hasn't been confirmed, but it's more than likely that the fog obscured the road, causing the car to miss a turning and drive off the edge of a cliff. Out of all five people in the car, only one passenger survived."
It makes his heart do somersaults.
It always will. This kid - it's bound to be a kid if they're calling Chan probably around the age of six - is so young. They've already lost everything. No matter how many stories Chan hears, it never hurts any less.
They're so young.
So, so young.
And yet everything has been ripped away so easily. Just by some freak fog that no one could have predicted, this kid's life has changed irreversibly.
"How old?"
"A five-year-old boy. He's currently in hospital, but appears to have taken no major damage from the impact other than a cut to his forehead. He's due to be released by the end of today, but we're struggling to find somewhere with the right circumstances that'll take him in under such short notice."
Chan's hand has flown up to his mouth. The lights are beginning to dim now, his eyes finally adjusting. He wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, even if they hadn't. His mind is full of sadness for a child he doesn't even know.
"That's horrible. I hope you find somewhere suitable." As soon as the words leave his mouth, the meaning behind the sentence finally catches up with him. "What do you mean 'right circumstances'?"
"The family was on holiday from Australia. We're unsure how much Korean the boy speaks, but it doesn't seem to be much. We'd prefer him to be placed with a family, as it'll only be until we can contact his relatives, but it's proving difficult to find anywhere that speaks English. You were one of the last contacts on the list."
And just like that, Chan's heart crumbles.
His own tongue aches with the pain of being all alone in a country he didn't understand the language of. Heavy with the accent of Australia, still missing the beaches and skies and grass in a way that no one could ever understand.
He can hear the squeal of tires, the boy's car tumbling down the cliff. He must have been so scared. Even now, in hospital, it would be so terrifying to be surrounded by people, unable to understand anything except the fact that he was now alone.
When he closes his eyes, he can see Changbin stepping into their house for the first time. He can see Hyunjin's grin when they told him they were fostering him. He can see Jeongin's mother, young and so desperate for her child to have a home. He can see Jisung and Seungmin, bright hearts overshadowed by labels they could do nothing about. He can see Minho, as the baby that started it all.
He's felt this six times before.
There's a sound from outside the bathroom. It's too loud to be the snuffle through the wall again, and Chan immediately know that he wasn't quiet enough when he woke up.
"Hold on," he tells the person on the other end on the phone.
Unlocking the bathroom door and making his way down the hallway almost feels like he's in a dream. Hyunjin stares back at him in the darkness. His hair is all messy, flopping into his eyes, and his eyes are still heavy. He rubs at them sleepily, stumbling towards Chan.
"Woke up," His voice is muffled and mumbly, and he melts into Chan's hug. "Why were you in the ba'room, Daddy?"
Seungmin changing rooms, even temporarily, is out of the question. Jeongin's room is still half-used as storage, and a new kid wouldn't be able to read the invisible lines around each individual toy. Jisung and Hyunjin's room has the most space, but it's like a carefully laid out map. Putting out a pop-up bed would mean moving the wardrobe and toys and cupboards, not worth Jisung having to memorise the layout all over again if it was only temporary. Changbin's room - still more a converted office than anything - is nowhere near done, even less so adaptable for another child.
Minho wouldn't be happy to have to give up his room.
It's unfair. He's been here the longest, he's the only child that's actually related to him, and he's still working through the fact that his mom - Chan's sister - didn't want him.
But it would only be temporary. He'd love the extra affection, even if he complained about it on the outside. They'd make sure his three precious cat plushies were safe, and then he could sleep on the pop-up bed in Chan's room for a while.
"Daddy?" Hyunjin asks again. His head is tilted to one side, eyes big with worry too old for his heart.
Chan takes his hand. "Hyunjin," he says, voice low as to not wake anyone else, "How would you feel about another brother?"