Archive of Our Own

When Chan picks up Felix, his hands only slightly shake where they grip the steering wheel and it’s not because he’s nervous. He just spent two hours prior in the gym, paying special attention to his deltoids and biceps—a new bench press PR, Changbin will be proud when he gets around to telling him—and he didn’t even think about Felix more than, like, maybe fourteen times. Why should he be nervous, anyways? He sees Felix twenty-four seven hours of the day, and has spent plenty of time in the studio or the dorms alone with him. Why is it any different now, when they are finally back in their hometown of Sydney and Felix is going to be in his house for the first time in three years—

Felix knocks on the passenger window and Chan jumps. He’s smiling that same amazing, light-up-the-world, impossibly captivating smile and Chan is fumbling, looking like an idiot as he always does when he makes situations awkward with his rambling side-tracked thoughts. It probably takes him a full minute to get the side door unlocked before Felix is sliding in, his adorable giggles filling the car.

“Long time no see mate!” Felix uses his rather impressive vocal range to bump his pitch up a few octaves, silly and teasing even as leans across the center console to give him a half-hug. Chan squeezes tight, counts to three in his head, and then lets go before his lingering can be interpreted for what it really is.

“Hey mate,” he teases right back. They’re already back to primarily using English, laying on the slang words thick and reveling in just how much more Aussie their accents sound when used right in their hometown.

Felix sends him a sly grin, clearly thinking the same thing. “Crazy, right? Three years.”

“Yeah,” Chan laughs. “Three years.” He puts the shifter in drive and takes off.

They’re three minutes onto the highway, a quick and direct route to Chan’s home not even twenty minutes away. Felix’s smile hasn’t slipped a centimeter.

“I can’t wait to see everyone outside of a Facetime call!” he says, wriggling in his seat. “Lucas looked like he was getting so big last time we talked, but it’s hard to tell height differences from a phone screen.”

Chan hesitates. Of course the topic of his family was going to come up eventually during their time together, but he still didn’t know how to respond. He’d only practiced in his head eight different worst-case scenarios. “Haha, well. Hannah and Lucas are still both at school, and my parents won’t be getting back from their work trip until late tonight.”

“Oh!” Felix says, and he visibly deflates a little. “You should’ve told me, we could’ve done a different day. Or I could’ve brought a sleepover bag, I can totally stay late–”

“You don’t have to worry about seeing them!” Chan interjects with a nervous laugh. “They know our vacation is short so don’t feel pressured. Really, it’s fine.”

“Well, it’s not like that. I guess I kinda thought, like, I would be coming to your house for that reason? To see your family. You know, since I see you all the time,” he teases, but the playfulness isn’t quite there like before.

Felix has a point. He has a really good point, so much so that Chan anticipated him bringing it up, and still couldn’t figure out how to get around that one. Not like he should be trying to prevent Felix from seeing his parents. In the past three years they’ve gotten closer, their families have practically merged, leaning on each other for support when their sons were thousands of miles away, and when the pandemic prevented them from returning home. Felix would hop on all of Chan’s video calls home and vice versa, first because they missed their own family, and then because they missed each other’s families too. It would be weird if Felix didn’t want to see his family in-person.

Chan understands he’s the absolute worst person in the world for trying to keep them from interacting, but listen—he would be an even worse person if he did let them interact. Because in the past three years of their bonding, Chan’s imagined family dinners with Felix started to change. He’d imagine Felix, the little Aussie trainee he took under his wing, fitting right into their family like the missing fourth child, sharing jokes and taking jabs alongside Lucas and Hannah. But then Felix grew older, a little less dependent on Chan and more of his own person, and the picture changed: Felix, sitting taller and answering all his parents’ questions, comfortably albeit more nervous. He’d slip his hand under the table to reach for him, his hand tiny in Chan’s grip, and Chan would squeeze back in confirmation that the time has come. Mom, Dad, Felix and I are dating.

So, yeah. He’d much rather not impose his twisted hopeless fantasies on real life, not when he’d be looking at Felix across the dinner table with completely different eyes: hungry and longing instead of protective and filial, like he was always supposed to be. The latter option of keeping his meeting with Felix brief and private is a lot more appropriate.

So Chan decides on: “I’m sorry, Felix, I didn’t realize.”

It’s weak, and completely unconvincing. Felix slouches in the passenger seat, opting to shift his knees away from Chan and angle his body to look out the car window instead of continuing the conversation. Chan never likes seeing Felix sad, so he determinedly puts the phrase it’s for the best on repeat in his head for the rest of the drive home to stop himself from doing something silly, like caving and giving Felix everything he could ever want in the entire world.

They’re pulling up to his house ten minutes later when Chan gets an idea. “Hey, you know who is home right now?”

Felix turns back to him and tilts his head. Chan shuts off the ignition, and the excited muffled barks can already be heard through the front door. Felix’s eyes light up instantly. “Berry!”

Felix is out of the car and running. Chan unlocks his front door and tries not to think horrible dirty thoughts when they both have to squeeze through a narrow gap, bodies pressing close to prevent Berry from escaping. Then he tries not to imagine he’s his own goddamn dog as Felix scoops up Berry and snuggles her close, his ridiculously perfect pouty lips making smooching noises as Berry licks all over his face. “Aw, Chan! I think she remembers me!”

“Of course she does Felix, I’m sure she kissed—missed, missed you very much!” Chan decides to keep rambling before Felix processes his slip-up. “Oh hey, also—we taught Berry new tricks! She now knows Sit, Paw, Rollover, and Speak! Her treats are in the bottom pantry next to the fridge if you wanna give it a try. I’m gonna put my workout bag upstairs.”

“Oh, awesome!” Chan watches Felix bound towards the kitchen with Berry nipping at his heels, tail whipping at the mention of treats before he heads up.

Every time he enters his childhood room now, he thinks of his old French class. Jamais vu—the distinct feeling that everything around you feels foreign even when it should be familiar. It was one of the more rare vocabulary words they learned, but easy enough for English-speakers to remember given it was the opposite of deja vu. Of course, he never really understood the word before, never had the context to use it—but now, standing in his room surrounded by relics of the past, he thinks he finally knows how it feels.

First place heat winner ribbons hang on the window panes from his middle school swim team competitions. His first-ever acoustic guitar rests in the corner, a gift from his parents when they finally started to take his music dreams seriously. There’s plenty of framed pictures of him in his preteen years, Hannah five years old and clinging to his side, Lucas only three and perched on his shoulders. His brain hurts trying to calculate all the years that have passed, the almost twelve years he missed watching his siblings grow up. His mom clearly put time into upkeeping the space, tidying the bedcovers and dusting the shelves for his arrival 48 hours before. And he’s grateful for that, the time his mom and dad and siblings put into making sure Chan still feels every bit a part of the family. But the covers are pulled too tight over his bed, and he never kept his room that clean anyways. And maybe he wonders whether they do all of this more for his own benefit rather than their own.

But he doesn’t need to think about that right now. He can just spend time with Felix, sans his family and the ungrateful anxieties that slip in. If he focuses hard enough he can hear Berry’s nails clacking on the wooden floor as she scrambles to follow Felix’s commands, his deep voice distinct enough to resonate up the stairway. Chan hears Sit, Paw, Rollover, and then Speak.

Felix screams.

Chan is thundering down the stairs in an instant, rounding the corner to the kitchen. Felix is pointing a shaky finger at Berry, who’s now happily munching away on her treat, completely oblivious.

“SHE SPOKE!” Felix shouts. "YOUR DOG FUCKING SPOKE!”

“Aw,” Chan says. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal when she learned the new command, but hey, it did take her three months to learn how to roll over. He maneuvers around Felix to kneel down next to Berry and pat her head. “Good job, Berry!”

“Thanks.”

Chan tumbles backwards onto his ass and just stares because—what the actual fuck? He looks back as if Felix spoke, but he knows that’s not his voice—it’s too high-pitched, almost something close to his sister’s. So he looks around more, but he would’ve heard if she came in the front door. But if it’s not Felix, and not Hannah…

“…Berry?” he asks, tentatively and in utter disbelief.

Berry looks up. Her bushy little brown eyebrows raise. “Oh, you can hear me too? That’s a good start.”

“See?! Seeee?!” Felix shrieks, kicking Chan’s side. “I’m not going crazy, you just heard it too right?!”

Berry, having finished licking up the crumbs of her treat off the floor, now sits back, swiping her tongue over her muzzle. Then she stretches, and groans in relief. “Aghhh, finally, my voice has returned. This might be my chance to escape your mortal realm, to be free from this weak and useless cage of delicate bones.”

To give himself credit, Chan has not quite flipped out yet like Felix has. But upon hearing these words he makes the only conceivable conclusion. “That’s not my dog.”

Berry lets out a clipped bark. Chan’s brain is rushing back and forth between the laws of physics and the impossible situation currently unfolding, his ears logically picking up what he hears is barking, but his brain somehow translating the sound to a very clear and annoyed voice in his head.

“Um, rude. But partially correct,” she—holy shit Berry holy shit—says. “Let me properly introduce myself.” Berry rises to stand on all four tiny paws, fluffy chest puffing out in pride. “I am Berry, the 4,419th Bulgae to grace the face of this wretched planet.”

“The four thousandth and four hundredth…what?” Chan sputters. For a moment, it almost sounded like Berry said a Korean word.

“Yes, Bulgae, keep up—aren’t you idiots fluent in Korean by now, with all of your K-pop dilly-dallying? Did you even learn about the history of the culture you hail from?” She says, and now she’s fully speaking in Korean, his brain sent reeling once again. It doesn’t look like Felix’s brain is faring any better. “I’m a fire dog, sent from Gamangnara, Heaven’s realm of darkness. I’m here to do what no other Bulgae has successfully done—retrieve light to bring back to my Kingdom.”

“Uhhh…and how are you supposed to do that exactly?” Felix tentatively presses. He’s joined Chan on the floor and—well, he still looks like he’s in a state of shock, but it looks like they’re past the point of asking “why the dog can talk” and to the “what in the fucked-up Wonder Pets kind of quest is this” stage.

“By stealing the Moon, obviously. And the Sun.” As Berry says this, they hear “I’m home Chris!” ring out from the front entrance.

Now that’s his little sister’s voice. Chan and Felix are scrambling up to block Hannah from seeing Berry, as if they could somehow shield her from the crazy demon dog. Hannah sees their expressions (god, what is his face even doing right now—) and stops short from giving him a hug. “Uh. What’s going on?”

Berry weaves in between their legs, tail wagging as she greets Hannah. “‘Sup, bitch!”

Felix’s mouth drops open. Chan supposes he doesn’t look any different. But Hannah just bends down, playfully scuffling with the tiny Spaniel breed. “Heyyyyy Berry!”

Okay. So either Hannah can’t hear what Chan and Felix are hearing, or this is completely normal for her. Which if the latter is true, he seriously needs to start calling his family for updates more often.

“So….” Hannah says after a few moments, looking up at their still-frozen faces. “What were you guys doing just now?”

Berry responds instead. “Oh, we were just about to go for a nice long walk. Right boys?”

Did his dog just threaten him? “Uh, Berry is taking us out on a walk—I mean, uh, we were about to take Berry on a walk,” Chan corrects. Hannah looks at him like he’s insane, which he probably is.

“Alrighty then…” Hannah says. “Can I come?”

“No!” Felix blurts. “Uh, I need to…tell Chan something. Really, really important.”

Chan thinks that’s a good save. But then Hannah’s face is doing this weird twisty thing.

“Oh!…oh,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Good luck then!” Chan can’t even begin to unpack that one before Berry is impatiently tugging on his pants leg, and they’re heading for the side entrance.

They walk Berry (or rather, Berry walks them—what else was Chan supposed to do, it’s kind of weird, disciplining your dog by locking them up when they’re verbally threatening to send you to the depths of hell)—and they soon arrive at the nearby community park.

“Look Berry, it’s the playground where we filmed Boxer!” Felix says excitedly. “Remember?”

“Dear god, don’t remind me,” Berry groans. “Never in my life was I more grateful for these stupid floppy ears when I had to listen to that noise on repeat. Although I suppose I, too, occasionally fantasize about pulverizing my enemies in a boxing ring.”

“….You don’t like Boxer?” Felix prods weakly. Chan’s a little more focused on the second part to add anything else.

“Sorry. I’m more of a ’19’ kinda dog. Hannah too.” Berry halts. “Wait. Don’t tell Hannah I told you that, she said she doesn’t want you knowing she listens to your music. Something about the war within blood lines, sibling rivalries, whatever.”

“Oh. Um…sure,” Chan says. He’s learning Berry has a quick temper and decides it's pointless to push things further. “So. What’s this thing about stealing the Moon and the Sun?”

“Well. As I said before, my king wants light for his kingdom. For years he has sent many Bulgae to retrieve either the Moon or the Sun, but to no avail. The Sun is too hot to bite down on, the Moon too cold. But,” Berry presses, “I have an ingenious idea to be the first successful Bulgae. I’m gonna steal them both—at the same time. That way, the Sun and the Moon’s temperatures equalize each other, and boom—-easily obtainable, room-temperature celestial objects.”

Chan and Felix stare at Berry. “What?” she snips.

Chan doesn’t even know where to start, but Felix asks the first question for him. “But…the Sun and the Moon aren’t even next to each other.”

“Fool!” Berry hisses, more cat than dog. “You can see the Moon in the sky right when the Sun sets, and right when it rises. Sometimes.”

“How are you going to reach them, though?” Chan asks.

“By using my magical fire dog powers, I don’t know!” Berry barks. “Look. I’ve been studying Hannah’s astronomy notes when she leaves her notebook open, and I’ve been waiting for a sign from Heaven for years. And since…one second—” Berry turns to yap at the dog passing them on the street. “Hey, jackass, you’re almost as ugly as your owner!” The owner and dog keep walking right by.

“...Yep, since you two are apparently the only ones in the entire world that can suddenly understand me, clearly you need to be the ones who assist me in finally bringing my nefarious plan into fruition.”

Chan is trying to desperately wrap his head around all of this information. “So, how exactly are we supposed to help you?”

“By bringing me to the beach, obviously. That’s where I can best see the Sun on the horizon. We’ll depart today before sunset so as to not waste any time, and we’ll camp out ‘till sunrise.” Berry doesn’t miss a beat, tugging on her leash until they’re walking over to a nearby tree. “Now let me piss on this tree real quick. That dumb Jack Terrier two doors down keeps infringing on my territory.”

Felix turns to Chan, his voice low as he pointedly ignores where Berry crouches next to the tree trunk in their peripheral. “Not that I’m, like, super concerned or anything but…do you really think Berry can steal the Sun and the Moon from the sky?

“Um…” Chan starts. Berry finishes peeing and he watches her eat a clump of dirt right where she peed. “No.”

“Then it might be a good idea just to entertain her, then.”

“Felix, she wants us to camp out on the beach all night—”

“You know I can still hear you two,” Berry calls out as she resumes her walk, Chan and Felix in tow.

“We’re not doing it,” Chan says to Berry.

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s impossible!”

“Aish, what do you know, silly human?!” She grumbles. “Besides, I have to try no matter what. If I don’t complete my quest I am unable to return home, lest I wait until my mortal death.”

To his surprise, Felix remains insistent. “I wouldn't mind helping you with your quest, Berry.”

“See? Felix wants to help,” Berry says, “Don't you want to help out with Felix?”

Why did Berry say that in a taunting tone? “Uhh, no,” Chan says cautiously, “Why would that change anything?”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Berry says, “Is this not Felix? The Felix Felix? The one whose name you were moaning while watching the mini naked humans in the metal box last night—”

“Berry hahahaha what are you saying-–” Chan tugs on the leash, stopping Berry mid-step and quickly crouching down to her level. Felix is walking a few steps ahead of them, thank god, and he only glances back in confusion at Chan’s flustered position on the ground. ”Uhh…you can go ahead. I need to ask Berry something really quickly.” Felix keeps walking and Chan whips his head back to Berry. “How the fuck do you know about that?!”

“See,” Berry says exasperatedly. “This is why you should always check for monsters under your bed before going to sleep! But that’s not the point. Do you really want Felix to find out about your carnal desires for his flesh?”

“Are you…blackmailing me right now?”

“I’m negotiating,” Berry says. “Help me out or I'll tell Felix everything.” She pauses. “Oh wait, yeah. I guess I am blackmailing you.”

Insane. This is absolutely insane, my dog has seen me watch porn, and this is insane, Chan thinks. He absolutely does not want to spend a whole night humoring the Bulgae’s ridiculous mission. He also doesn’t want to risk seeing how the next morning might unfold if Felix insists again on seeing his family. His mind is already breaking and reconfiguring the picture, and he sees the puzzle pieces in his hands—Felix, his family, and himself—but he doesn’t know how to piece them together without falling apart himself.

But he can’t afford to have Felix discover the truth. Chan internally curses his bad luck. “Alright. Fine. We leave at 4 pm. But if I hear you utter a single word to Felix about last night…”

Berry gnaws on her leash, as if trying to hide a smile. Little devil. “Duly noted.”

—

They arrive at the campsite off of Greenhills shore at 4:30 pm, just after the beach permits dogs to wander without leashes and right before the sunset. There’s a small handful of other dogs cavorting on the beach, their owners already settled in the sand and relaxing after a long workweek. The dogs excitedly run up to Berry, but she dutifully avoids sniffing their butts in favor of scoping out the beach’s perimeter, a Bulgae on a mission.

Chan and Felix begin to set up camp. Even as they work up a sweat from the exertion, he can practically feel where Felix shivers next to him, his fingertips purple as they fumble with the tent stakes in the sand. Chan checks the weather app on his phone and tuts. It’s 14 degrees Celsius—the late August chill was a shock when they arrived, coming from a heat wave in Korea—with the strong ocean breeze already promising it will only drop further into the night.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Chan says, wrapping his jacket over Felix’s narrow shoulders and briskly rubbing his hands up and down Felix’s arms.

Felix scowls, uncharacteristically tugging away from Chan’s hold. “And I told you I wanted to do this. Why are you so against a harmless camping trip?”

“Maybe because it’s been forced upon us, last-minute and in the middle of winter, by a demon dog?”

Felix rolls his eyes and finishes shoving the stake in the sand. “We have propane lamps! Think of it as a fun adventure. I mean, it’s not like we’re actually stealing the Moon or whatever. So let’s just…let Berry do her thing, enjoy the beach, and we can laugh about this tomorrow.”

Chan rakes his fingers through his hair. How is Felix so calm about this? “Did you miss the part where I said my dog’s been possessed? What if she doesn’t find what she’s looking for? What if…the whole talking thing doesn’t go away, and she doesn’t go back to normal, and we have to come back tomorrow—”

“It almost feels like you don’t want to spend more time with me,” Felix interrupts, but Chan almost misses what he says, his voice small and quiet.

“Lix…”

“Excuse me?” Chan and Felix turn to see a middle-aged man approaching them, business tie loosened around his neck. “Is your dog the King Charles Spaniel?”

“Y-yes?” Chan and Felix are instantly looking around the beach, but Berry is nowhere to be seen. Then the man raises his finger and points, accusatory where it directs their sights farther ahead, past the shore and—oh, fucking hell.

“You know, you probably shouldn’t let your dog off the leash if they like to explore like that,” the man scolds.

But Chan isn’t paying attention to the man anymore. His eyes are trained on the rocks that make up the jetty, a jagged brown line stretching into the sea. Berry stands on the highest rock at the very end, barely visible where she braces herself against the waves that crash against the sides.

“How the fuck did she get out there?!” Felix screeches, running towards the waterline. Chan is kicked into motion and chases after him. The few beachgoers present have also gathered where the rocks begin on the beach, gasping and pointing at the spectacle.

“Oh my god, somebody save the dog!”

“Wow, bloody mutt got out far—”

“Somebody record this, this is animal neglect!”

Chan and Felix push past them to the front, mindful of the phone cameras now switching between them and Berry. He looks down at the jetty rocks, carefully stepping over the first few until they become sharp and slimy with moss and—yeah, no. He quickly gets a grip on Felix’s bicep and pulls back. The onlookers could post their Tik-Toks claiming he’s a maniac (ping ping dorabeorigetji) and ruin his idol image and whatever else, but some serious negotiations were in order before they tried taking any more steps forward.

“Berry, what are you doing?!” Chan calls out.

She turns around to face him, fluffy ears whipping in the wind and bark barely audible. “This is where the Sun is closest to the Earth for me to grab! All I have to do is swim to the horizon.”

“Berry,” Felix shouts, “That’s not how the Sun works! I thought you read Hannah’s notes?”

Berry hesitates. “...Okay, so, she may or may not be failing her science class. But if you’re so smart, Mister Pretty-boy K-pop Idol, then why is the Sun so low in the sky?”

“Because it’s rotating the Earth!” Chan yells. Felix gives him an incredulous look and—alright, that’s unfair, he’s kind of panicking too much to think about science right now—“I mean…shit, the Earth is like, going under the Sun or something!”

“Oh yeah? Then why does it LOOK bigger when it sets in the sky? Why is it more orange-y?” She jeers.

“Uhhh…” Chan turns to Felix, ready to put their last two brain cells together to recall grade school astronomy. “Why does the Sun look bigger when it sets?!” he asks, but Felix shrugs helplessly.

“Oh, oh! Does it have to do with the earth’s rotation?” One of the onlookers shouts from behind.

“Naur you flamin’ fuckwit,” another says, “It’s because the Earth is flat—”

“Why are we not questioning why those crazy young men are talking to a dog!” A woman screams. “Is this one of those prank cams?!”

Chan doesn’t know when this fiasco turned into some kind of fucked-up science Kahoot, but he turns back to Berry now, prepared to beg. “Berry, please.”

Berry looks back one more time. She holds a lifetime of determination in her eyes. “Annyeong, motherfuckers,” she says. And then she jumps.

“Shit!” Chan curses and starts stripping to his boxers. He already knows his muscles will scream when they hit the water, flexing and moving in ways they haven’t since his middle school swim team years. That’s if, of course, the ocean doesn’t freeze him to death first. How is Berry not dead yet? That’s five little kilograms of demon dog, desperately paddling out towards the horizon, her little nose dipping under each wave and—dammit, Chris thinks as the anxious adrenaline surges him into a dive, that’s his goddamn demon dog.

The ice water pierces his skin straight down to the bone and strangles him in a chokehold. It takes a few calibrating seconds before he’s able to gasp for air and finally snap his limbs into action. Muscle memory fuels one arm over the other, legs kicking furiously to propel him towards where Berry is floundering, barely having moved an inch.

“Berry,” he gasps, reaching out and half-expecting her to cling onto his arm in defeat, but she stubbornly bites at his hand. He needs to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from clattering as he struggles to get words out. “Berry girl, don’t do this! Think of Hannah, peanut butter, chewy treats, your favorite squishy toy back home…” Berry’s still struggling so he doubles down. “Please, I’ll do anything for you to give this stupid mission up!”

“Anything?” Berry repeats, her little paws halting their paddling. A big wave threatens to send her into the rocks and Chan lunges towards, twisting just in time so his back takes the brunt of the collision.

“Yes!” He gasps in pain.

“Then stop being an idiot and tell Felix your feelings!”

“What?”

“Oh wow look, I’m so close to grabbing the Sun—-”

“Okay, okay! I’ll talk to him, just please stop this insanity!”

Berry shudders, finally feeling the effects of the cold water on her tiny body. “Fine. Take me back.”

As he swims to the shore he almost laughs out loud, half delirious from the cold, because he thinks he finally understands loyalty. Sure, Berry isn’t the most conventional rendition of Man’s Best Friend, with her playing matchmaker and all. But he feels where Berry clings onto the crook of his neck, licking the saltwater off his brow as he paddles forward, and knows in that moment for sure: She’s more dog than demon.

—-

Three hours later Berry finally stops shivering, wrapped up like a puppy blanket burrito and situated next to the tent’s heat lamp in Chan’s lap. The Sun had long since gone down, and Felix went to pick up their food delivery, any plans to use the campsite grill long abandoned after the fiasco.

Chan softly strokes her ears. “I’m sorry for saying that you’re not my dog,” he says.

Berry blinks up at him with her big eyes, dark and glistening in the lamplight. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for not being able to tell you sooner that I was a fire dog. And for almost giving you hypothermia.”

Chan huffs out a laugh at that. “I think we were more concerned about you getting hypothermia, being so tiny and all. That was pretty scary, Berry. I thought…” I was going to lose you, is what he leaves unsaid.

He waits a few more minutes before posing his next question. “Why do you want the Sun and the Moon so badly?”

“I told you,” Berry says, “As a Bulgae, I have to try completing my quest no matter what, so I can return to my kingdom.”

“But why bother? I’m not trying to be mean, but…Why do you try, even when you know it’s impossible?”  

Berry’s eyes hold something adoring yet sad. “Chan. You were already off training to be an idol when I was born. It must’ve been hard, watching your family grow up from afar.”

Chan goes silent. It’s a complete 180 from Berry’s earlier petulance, enough to make him listen even when his fingers stop stroking Berry’s head, trembling slightly where they tangle in her fur.

“Let me ask you this,” Berry says. “When you waited for seven years, training for a chance to debut that might never come…did it feel impossible, at times?”

Chan pauses and thinks deeply, trying to take the question seriously. “I suppose so.”

“And if you had to redo it all, knowing this time that it wouldn't work out, that you wouldn’t debut or that you would fail your groupmates, that there would be no ‘Stray Kids’…would you still try?”

Chan tries to imagine the scenario, but he can’t even get past the first image without choking on his response. “I…I don’t know,” Chan admits. “I don’t think I would know how to not try.”

“Chan,” Berry prods softly. She wiggles out of her blanket to reach upwards, licking tears off his cheeks. He doesn’t know when he started crying. “Humans often live their lives like they’re gambling choices, seeking out the highest chance of success and avoiding failure at all costs. But when passion’s involved—when you follow your heart closely, like you’ve always done so well—the laws that hold rationality together start to unknit, and reality gets fuzzy around the edges. Chan, you didn’t stay and train for seven years because there was a high chance you’d be successful. You stayed because you love music. And you shouldn’t decide whether to confess to Felix based on the chances of your love being returned. You should tell Felix you love him, simply because it comes from the heart.”

Chan takes deep, shuddering breaths, and holds Berry closer than he’s ever before. He wasn’t exactly sure where she was going at first, but now that he sees the situation for what it is, it makes perfect sense. Telling Felix he loves him is less of a desire, and more of a necessity. He feels his original guilt, formed by ridiculous worries around somehow corrupting his groupmate, now stripped down to reveal his deepest fear.

“What if I’m not enough for him? What if I can’t give him everything he deserves?”

“‘Enough’ is a perfectionistic convolution of self-worth with success. We are acculturated to believe our self-worth isn't an inherent human right, and something we must earn through our measure of accomplishment. In truth, we are everything and nothing at all. In the same manner that the universe unfolds, propelled forward faster than it can expand on its own volition, we are simultaneously agents and followers of our own progress.”

“Berry, what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know. The author doesn’t even understand what she wrote. But it sounds cool, right?”

“I guess so,” Chan admits. It’s a lot to take in, but he thinks he finally has a starting point for understanding the whirlwind of the last 48 hours, from arriving home to seeing Felix and to going on Berry’s quest to steal celestial objects.

When Berry talks next, she’s staring past Chan and up at the mesh window at the top of the tent, where the stars faintly shine through. “I know how it feels to be away from home for so long. But you’re lucky.” She lets out a little yip, pointing her nose out the front entrance of the tent, where Felix is now making his way over the sand with takeout food in hand. “You get to carry a piece of home with you, wherever you go.”

—

Chan wakes up shivering, the spots where Berry and Felix cuddled up next to him last night now cold and empty. Faint rays of sunlight begin to filter through the mesh tent window, slowly illuminating his surroundings.

Then it gets darker.

Chan’s eyes, which were just adjusting to the new light, now squint in confusion. He checks his phone: 7:15 am, already 40 minutes past sunrise, and it’s way too dark to be thunderclouds. He rouses his aching body out of bed, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders before unzipping the opening and crawling outside.

They’re the only ones on the beach this early in the morning, the only ones crazy enough to go camping in winter. He immediately spots Felix just a few feet away, looking up at the sky in awe. Chan follows his line of sight to see the Sun, now reduced to a thin pinprick of light.

“An eclipse,” he says, breathless.

Felix turns around at the sound of his voice, face split into his signature grin as he pats the sand next to him. “Quick, I think the best part is about to happen.”

Chan wraps his blanket around both of their shoulders where they now huddle together in the sand. Minutes pass. With one last brilliant flash, the Sun disappears behind the Moon, the sky now blacker than night except for a fiery ring of light.

Chan may not remember all of his astronomy facts, but he knows enough about total solar eclipses to realize that the peak of the eclipse will only last a few minutes. It will probably be the only time he’ll ever get to see this—he thinks the total number of people who witness one in their lifetime must be pretty low—and still, even now, all he can do is stare at Felix. He’s thinking about how the eclipse can’t even be as half as brilliant as watching Felix’s reaction to the spectacle. With each passing minute the sky gets brighter, the ring of fire probably long disappeared. Yet when Felix’s eyebrows lift, lips parted in wonder, the slightest crinkle in the freckles around his eyes—Chan thinks that he’s brighter than the Sun could ever be.

The words are tumbling out, exalted and free-flowing. “Hey, Felix, I love—“

“Berry, Berry! You did it! You completed your quest!” Felix shouts, his deep voice a peal of incredulous laughter that slices through the early morning lull of ocean waves. Chan looks down to see Berry, tiny paws fumbling over sand mounds as she approaches them.

“No you dipshit. That’s just an eclipse. How does that mean I’ve stolen the Sun and the Moon? Now stop looking before you go blind.”

“Berry…” Chan sighs. If Felix was listening before he interrupted Chan, he makes no indication of doing so, choosing instead to snuggle up to the impossibly grumpy dog, so soft in the way he brushes the curls on Berry’s ears despite just being verbally abused by her.

Well, he could wait. It might take seven years, a whole lifetime, hell, the heavens colliding—but he thinks he can keep trying. And that will be enough.

“I’m starving,” Berry complains from her spot in Felix’s lap. “Can we please go home and get something to eat?”

Felix looks at Chan expectantly. “Sure,” Chan says. “Felix, wanna join our family for Saturday brunch?”

Felix perks up instantly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Chan smiles, standing up and taking the blanket with him. He holds out a hand to pull Felix up, and doesn’t let go when they’re standing, his hand squeezing Felix’s tightly in reassurance. “I mean, it’s your home now, too.”

Felix gives him another brilliant smile. After cleaning up their campsite, Chan takes Felix’s hand back in his. He’s already imagining the new picture as they walk back to the car, Felix swinging his right arm and Berry tucked under his left. Sure, it’s not the same as any of the previous pictures he’s painted in his head—-it’s a pancake breakfast and not a formal dinner, and it’s not quite an introduction of a little brother or a boyfriend to his family—-but it’s still Felix sitting by his side, isn’t it?

And that’s one thing in his picture that will never change.