Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

ho5hi_kwon

ur bias is so obvious lol

junhui_moon

i can’t help it ʅ(◞‿◟)ʃ

i love him~

luckyone is so cool 😍

feat.dino

im surprised you only posted 3 pics total

impressive!

junhui_moon

you have no idea how hard it was to choose!!!! 😣

feat.dino

how many pics did you take?

junhui_moon

idk

enough to fill up my new memory card lol

feat.dino

yeah i figured haha

ho5hi_kwon

aaahhh~

love~

junhui_moon

🥰

xuminghao_o

i can’t believe you delayed your flight just for a concert

junhui_moon

it wasn’t just a concert!!!!!

it was diamond days’ last con of the year!!!!

no one knows when they’ll have a comeback either

I HAD TO SEE THEM!!!!!!!!!

besides

i needed them to give me motivation 😔

im gonna be gone for almost a whole year!

ho5hi_kwon

don’t remind me babe 😭

im gonna miss you so much!!!!

junhui_moon

me too 😭

xuminghao_o

i know it’ll be a little scary at first

but it’s not like you’re going into the jungles of some undiscovered planet

junhui_moon

i’ll be in the middle of nowhere 😭

xuminghao_o

the countryside is not the middle of nowhere…

feat.dino

in the boonies????

junhui_moon

exactly!

do you know how many people are in that tiny village?

263!!!!

no wait

one of the teachers just gave birth so its 264 now

but anyway

our high school class alone had double that amount of kids!!!!

feat.dino

oh man

that is a tiny village

ho5hi_kwon

babe are you sure you’ll be all right?

is there even enough kids for you to teach?

junhui_moon

yeah i’ll be fine

im still in training so i won’t have a whole class to myself

the real teacher will still be in the classroom with me, observing and give me feedback

feat.dino

then it’s not too bad jun!

i thought they were going to feed you the wolves on your first day

an entire class full of tiny monsters and you

junhui_moon

don’t scare me!!!!

feat.dino

lol

im just kidding

im sure the kids will be nice

plus, since the population is so small there can’t be that many of them in 1 classroom, right?

junhui_moon

yeah!

xuminghao_o

what grade will you be training in?

junhui_moon

3rd

feat.dino

aw little kids!

what’s that like, like 8 yr olds?

they’re fun

junhui_moon

no i mean high school 3rd yrs

seniors

feat.dino

oh

xuminghao_o

😶

junhui_moon

what’s with those reactions???

ho5hi_kwon

oh babe

those seniors will definitely eat you up

junhui_moon

HOSHI!!!!!!

ho5hi_kwon

🤣

think about it

hormonal teenagers in a remote village

young pretty student teacher from the city arrives

heart eyes everywhere 😍😍😍

junhui_moon

are you messing with me again?

ho5hi_kwon

a little~

junhui_moon

i hate you

ho5hi_kwon

you love me~

junhui_moon

be that as it may

ho5hi_kwon

lolololol

xuminghao_o

im still surprised and amazed real adults trust you with their children when you’re just a big kid yourself

junhui_moon

excuse you!

im great with kids!

that’s why i was always such a sought after babysitter when we were younger

xuminghao_o

most likely bc the parents thought you and their kids had the same mental age

feat.dino

🤣

junhui_moon

anyway

im taking the first train tomorrow so i gotta get some sleep now

ho5hi_kwon

good luck babe!!!!

😘

feat.dino

have a safe trip!!!

don’t be nervous, jun

you’ll do great!

and the kids will be sure to love you!

ho5hi_kwon

maybe some more than others 🤭

xuminghao_o

we’re all cheering for you!

be good, learn a lot, and come back a full-fledged teacher!

junhui_moon

thanks you guys 🥰

with you and diamond days on my side i feel like i can do anything!

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

junhui_moon

how do you tell whether you have cabin fever? 🤔

xuminghao_o

you’ve been there for 2 weeks…

feat.dino

i know the village is in the countryside

but do you actually live in some remote shack high up in the mountains????

ho5hi_kwon

OMG did you see a yeti???? 😱

junhui_moon

no!

im not living in the mountains either

it’s a very nice apartment dorm in the village

xuminghao_o

then why are you asking about cabin fever?

google exists, remember?

junhui_moon

yeah but if im mentally compromised then my research would be flawed

xuminghao_o

if you DO have cabin fever, then our convo would also be considered skewed, wouldn’t it?

junhui_moon

idk!!!!

xuminghao_o

🙄

feat.dino

well from what i know, you’d need to be cut off from pretty much all stimuli for a prolonged period of time

and get stuck somewhere remote

obviously you still leave your apt and go teach

so i don’t think you have cabin fever, jun

ho5hi_kwon

did something happen?

are you ok?

OMG did you get trapped in a cave in the mountains???

feat.dino

how’s he gonna get internet access in a cave?

xuminghao_o

maybe the yeti has wifi

feat.dino

🤣🤣🤣

junhui_moon

i appreciate you guys trying to humor me

but i have a real problem here!!!!!

xuminghao_o

ok fine

what’s going on?

it better not be something dumb

junhui_moon

i was wondering if cabin fever or homesickness or nerves or maybe withdrawal????? could cause hallucinations

xuminghao_o

what kind of hallucinations?

feat.dino

jun… maybe you should go see a doctor

omg is there even a hospital there?

do you need to come back to the city???

ho5hi_kwon

junnieeeeee!!!!

wait for me babe i’ll come pick you up!!!

junhui_moon

no no no!

im ok! i promise!

its just…

well… 👉👈

am i hallucinating… or does this kid look like luckyone? 0_0

ho5hi_kwon

woah!!! 😮

twins!!!!!

feat.dino

oh dang

is he in your class?

xuminghao_o

why do you even have a picture of him???

junhui_moon

yes he’s the class rep and he’s in my class

im helping the yearbook club by taking pics of the kids during class

but that’s not important

DO YOU THINK HE LOOKS LIKE MY IDOL???????

ho5hi_kwon

YES!

feat.dino

definitely

junhui_moon

so im not losing it!!!!

what a relief…

xuminghao_o

i admit it is shocking

does luckyone have siblings?

junhui_moon

no one knows

all the members of diamond days are super secretive when it comes to their personal lives

aside from kim mingyu, who comes from a well-known family of models and actors

the rest of the members don’t even go by their real names

feat.dino

im surprised the press hasn’t tried to dig up info about them

i mean the more you hide the more people will be curious

junhui_moon

their company is very big

im sure if anyone tries anything funny, they’d be crushed by lawsuits

feat.dino

makes sense

ho5hi_kwon

so what are you gonna do, babe?

junhui_moon

???

what do you mean?

ho5hi_kwon

are you gonna ask him if he’s related to your one true love? lol

junhui_moon

impossible!

how can i just ask that???

feat.dino

do it like a bandaid!

junhui_moon

huh?

feat.dino

direct and quick

better confront it than letting it eat at you, right?

xuminghao_o

obviously it’s been bothering you for 2 weeks now

just ask him and be done with it

junhui_moon

what if he thinks im a weirdo???

xuminghao_o

you are a weirdo

ho5hi_kwon

but a hot one :D

junhui_moon

ha ha ha…

xuminghao_o

if you don’t clear the air he’ll eventually notice

actually im surprised he hasn’t already, knowing you

junhui_moon

hey!

xuminghao_o

do it before you inadvertently spazz out and go full-on fanboy mode in front of him

at that point he’ll REALLY think you’re a weirdo

junhui_moon

ok….

😞

ho5hi_kwon

you can do it, babe!

feat.dino

yeah!

xuminghao_o

good luck!

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

By pure coincidence, Junhui finds himself alone with Jeon Wonwoo, the representative of the senior year, after lessons the following day. Usually, the role of class rep is assigned to one student per classroom, but since the school population is so small, Wonwoo represents the entire senior class—comprised of 45 kids, spanning 3 classrooms. It’s actually because of his role that Junhui first noticed him and his uncanny resemblance to LuckyOne. 

“I’m sure such a bright and cheerful young man like yourself will have no problem settling in,” Principal Kang smiled warmly at him on his first day. They walked into classroom 3-C. “But if you ever do run into any trouble or need help finding materials and classrooms, the senior class representative will be more than happy to assist you. His name is Jeon Wonwoo.” Mr. Kang nodded toward a desk by the window, and the boy sitting there obediently got to his feet.

Junhui saw the movements from the corner of his eye as he bowed to the principal for being so accommodating. “Thank you, sir.” Straightening out, he glimpsed over on instincts to see who Jeon Wonwoo was. “I’m sure everything will be just fine—”

He froze.

Breath caught.

Heart lurching.

His system went into overload. The tiny Junhuis controlling his brain ran around screaming and crying like in that one SpongeBob episode.

“Hello, Mr. Wen,” Wonwoo greeted politely, head bowed.

It took all of Junhui’s self-restraint not to squeak and collapse on the floor in a heap of hysterics. The boy had the same deep voice, the warm timber. Junhui’s toes curled in his shoes.

“Please don’t hesitate to come to me if you need anything.”

For five seconds that felt like five decades, Junhui stood in stunned silence, eyes as big as saucers, jaw hanging loose. LuckyOne. LuckyOne stood in his classroom, enrolled as a student. But that was impossible!

He pinched his palm in hopes of regaining some sort of mobility and reason.

Jeon Wonwoo looked identical to his idol, except that instead of dark eyeliner and a flamboyant outfit, he wore a navy blue school uniform, and a pair of stylish glasses set atop his nose. Moreover, his aura felt completely different. While LuckyOne exuded charisma, alluring sensuality, and confidence on stage, Jeon Wonwoo projected a mature and calm demeanor. His confidence stemmed from self-possession and dependability. The two boys were mirrors of each other. And opposites. Hot and cold. Fire and ice.

Leaving Junhui in utter bewilderment.

He’s not really sure what happened after that confounding introduction on the first day. His brain really did short-circuit. In the next instance of his consciousness, he’s working on autopilot. He stands by the desk, going through roll-call to familiarize himself with his students, putting a face to a name on the roster.

The two weeks pass in a similar blur of work and robot-like instincts.

His brain splits between preparing lesson plans and going to faculty meetings, and wondering if he’s gone crazy for imagining LuckyOne as one of his students. Thankfully, students and faculty alike attribute the spazz and lapses of panic to Junhui still getting used to his new life. Everyone has been so nice and welcoming.

But especially Jeon Wonwoo.

Which is both a curse and a blessing.

He’s never failed to check up on Junhui, ensuring that the teacher-in-training knew the schedule and where to go for meetings. He’s helpful and attentive, carrying boxes of materials for Junhui. On more than one occasion, he’s left the young teacher wondering if he’s really a high school senior. Were kids this mature and considerate when Junhui was in high school? Maybe it’s due to his duties as a class rep. Regardless of the reasons behind his actions, it’s no secret that he’s been the most dependable person by Junhui’s side. It’s largely thanks to him that Junhui has settled in with relatively little trouble.

Today, after Junhui casually joked with the class that he’ll most likely have to sleep at school in order to get all his work done, Wonwoo volunteered to stay behind to help. No matter how much Junhui tries to shoo him away, he’s no match for the younger’s persistence. In the end, Junhui resigns. Wonwoo goes off to make copies and puts together the worksheets for tomorrow’s class, freeing time for Junhui to read their essays and submit the grades before the deadline for the first progress report.

Junhui is so very grateful.

But he’s also bursting at the seams every time he glances up and sees the splitting image of his idol. Every moment he spends in the same vicinity as Wonwoo, his heart thrums like bongos, blood rushing past his ears. His palms get clammy, and he constantly has to wipe them on the front of his pants.

Papers rustle as they both work. Occasionally, the sharp click of the stapler punches through the silence of the classroom, accompanied by the sound of the red marker gliding across the page. The pile of graded essays grow higher as the hands of the clock rotate round and round. As he reaches the remaining essays, Junhui’s focus turns slightly shaky. He can’t help throwing glances toward the desk by the window. He’s still so conflicted. His friends back home advised him to come straight out and ask Wonwoo, but how is he supposed to bring it up?

Junhui chews on his bottom lip, gaze flickering up from the messy scrawl on the paper once more.

He squeaks, jolting in place.

Wonwoo’s staring right at him, expression even if not slightly perplexed. “Do you need help with anything else?”

“No! I’m good! I’m good—ah…” Junhui sighs, hanging his head. Then he all but crashes on top of his desk, head buried in his folded arms.

“Are you okay?” Perplexity has grown into full concern now, as Wonwoo slowly sets the stapler down. The chair legs scrape against the linoleum flooring as he pushes his seat back to stand up.

Junhui groans, pressing his hands over his face. He feels ashamed that a student has to ask about his welfare. This is getting ridiculous. It’s affecting his work. He needs to take the plunge. Resolute, he lifts his head and takes a deep breath.

As expected, Wonwoo stands on the other side of the teacher’s desk, looking down at him. Dark brows furrow in worry.

“I…” Junhui starts, then clears his throat to dispel some of the nerves. “I’m fine.” He clutches the red pen in his grasp, wiping his free hand on the front of his pants. It’s still trembling as he digs through his bag.

“You don’t look fine,” Wonwoo replies, eyeing the door. “The nurse should still be around. Should I go—”

“No!” Junhui scrambles. “I’m fine, I promise.” He offers a shaky smile. It probably looks one step away from hysterical. “It’s just… You, um.” With his fingers trembling so badly, it takes several attempts for him to press the correct pin onto his phone to unlock it. “It’s just that you look a lot—a lot—like my favorite idol, and I just…”

Shame and embarrassment threaten to choke him. He’s burning. Refusing to meet Wonwoo’s eyes, he timidly shows him a picture of LuckyOne from the latest concert.

After several seconds of silence, Junhui feels his stomach drop. Is he going to be kicked out of the teaching program? Heart in his throat, he risks a peek.

Wonwoo stares at the picture, blinking. “Oh.”

Is that all he’s going to say???

“That’s your favorite idol?”

Junhui startles, not realizing how tense he’s been sitting until then. He nods carefully, still expecting the worse to come as he stares up at his student.

“And you think I might be him?”

Now that someone else is saying it—even worse that it’s Wonwoo himself—really drives home how ridiculous the notion is. Why would an idol be enrolled in a high school out in the countryside, in a village with less than 300 people? Granted that Diamond Days is a pretty niche kind of musical group, it’s still ludicrous to think so. Junhui wants to jump into a well and never come out.

“I… was wondering if you could be related… or something…” he mumbles, pulling his phone back to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo replies gently. “But I’m not, er…”

“LuckyOne,” Junhui provides immediately.

“Right. I don’t even sing.”

To say that Junhui isn’t disappointed would be a lie. But at the same time, he’s also greatly relieved. “Of course.” Laughing, Junhui nods to himself, then sighs quietly.

“Are you familiar with the doppelgänger theory?”

“The thinking that everyone has a perfect copy of themselves somewhere in the world?”

Wonwoo nods. “It’s not that crazy, right?”

Junhui giggles. “Not any crazier than thinking an idol would go to school here.”

A gentle, yet indulgent, smile graces Wonwoo’s features. Junhui’s heart skips a beat. He pinches his thigh. It’s only because Wonwoo looks so much like LuckyOne. “I’m really sorry,” he says, whether it’s done because of his treacherous heart or in general for the whole ridiculous ordeal, he’s not sure. He’s sorry, regardless.

Wonwoo surprises him by tilting his head and asking, “Why are you apologizing?”

“Huh?” Junhui blinks. “Don’t you think I’m a complete weirdo? Not only for thinking one of my students could be an idol, but for being such a rabid fan in the first place?”

“No.” Wonwoo’s deep timber is so reassuring. “As long as it doesn’t cause any harm, anything that makes a person happy shouldn’t be something to be ashamed of. No one has the right to criticize them, either.”

A warm blush creeps up on Junhui’s cheeks, and he hides behind his hand. He lets out a soft laugh. “Thank you. But you’re making me highly question our roles here. Maybe you should be my teacher instead.”

The younger boy chuckles.

Nonetheless, Junhui needs to confirm something. “Are you sure you’re okay, though? You’re not uncomfortable or weirded out that I’m a fan of your doppelgänger?”

Wonwoo smiles, warm and sweet. “I’m sure your idol would be really happy to know he’s got a fan who’s so thoughtful of others.” Then turning a little more playful, he adds, “As long as you don’t call me by his name, I’m fine.”

Junhui laughs, heart alight. He’s really so glad he got to talk with Wonwoo.

From now on, they can be normal student and teacher (in training).

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

One morning, Junhui arrives at school earlier than usual to catch up on reports he didn’t get a chance to finish the previous day. Unfortunately, as he walks through the large iron gates and heads further through campus, he sees that his usual route to the third year building is blocked by the custodian team. Not wanting to bother them, he turns toward the sports field. It’s a bit of a roundabout path, but it’s better than disturbing the staff. It’s Junhui’s fault for arriving so early, after all.

In fact, he’s so early, the person responsible for raising the flag hasn’t even come in to do their task yet. The campus is completely silent saved for the rustling of trees and occasional bird calls. With autumn into full effect, the sun has barely risen, too. Junhui hurries his step to escape the chilling wind, shivering as he goes.

Meow.

Brows knitting together, he looks around him, turning over his shoulder. The sports field is flat and empty. Only the soccer goals are permanently in place, the net fluttering with the wind. Junhui dismisses the sound as a stray cat wandering through the bushes. However, as he continues on and approaches one of the goal posts, the cries grow louder and more dire.

He can no longer deny it. There’s a cat nearby, and it sounds in pain. Hitching his backpack higher, he investigates the area. He searches the bushes and lifts his head toward the tall trees. With the foliage of leaves all but gone now, it’s easy to see that no kitty has gotten in trouble up there. He follows the cries, meowing himself in hopes of getting the cat to respond and help him locate it. It works. After a couple minutes, Junhui finds a gray tabby practically hidden by the goal post.

Upon closer inspection, it got its paw stuck in the net. The more agitated it gets trying to get away, the more tangled the knots are formed around its paw.

“Oh, poor kitty,” Junhui whispers, gingerly approaching so to not spook it. “It’s okay, baby. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Frightened, the cat hisses and tries to back away, its fur growing in size. But there’s hardly any room for movement.

Junhui speaks softly to it as he kneels on the grass and assesses the best way to go about the rescue operation. Then he remembers his lunch. He swings his backpack onto his lap and digs out the food container. He tears out a piece of chicken. The smell of food does seem to calm the kitty as it stares at Junhui, then at the offered piece of meat.

Still cautious, the kitty inches closer to sniff. Then, much to Junhui’s joy, it starts to nibble on it.

“That’s right, good baby!” Junhui encourages, giggling to himself. “Is it yummy?”

This time, when he reaches for it, the cat stays silent, even if it still cautiously avoids direct contact. It does sniff at Junhui’s hand without any show of hostility, so he counts it as a small victory. A stray cat, maybe, but it’s probably used to humans if it lives on the school ground.

“Let’s see if we can get you free, hm?” Junhui says softly, examining the net. It’s not as serious as he had initially thought. As long as the kitty doesn’t freak out again, Junhui thinks he can get him out without cutting the rope (and risk getting scolded for damaging school property).

With the utmost care, Junhui slowly cradles the kitty into his lap. At first, the frightened animal jolts and tries to bolt, but Junhui holds firm, speaking to it gently, petting it and reassuring it. In the same moment, he grips the stuck paw and starts to undo the loops and tangles.

At last, he releases the last knot, freeing the small paw. “Hurray!” he cheers, gathering the cat closer to him and petting it. Then, to his amazement, the kitty purrs quietly and nudges its head against his hand. “Aww, you’re very welcome, baby! Are you feeling better? Let me see.” Carefully, he checks on the paw and arm. It seems fine. Maybe a little sore, though. “Be careful from now on, okay?” He pets him until the kitty is satisfied and hops down.

Just as Junhui is about to bid his new friend good-bye, he hears an ominous sound. Two seconds. It takes him two seconds to realize it’s the sound of sprinklers. Two seconds is also how much time elapses before he’s sprayed with icy cold water.

Junhui shrieks and runs. He has to get out of the field! Disoriented by the whole ordeal and shock of it all, he scrambles in place for what feels like a hundred years. By the time he manages to reach a dry area, he’s drenched.

Old hinges creak, and a heavy door swings open.

“What happened to you?” Wonwoo comes running out of the sports shed toward him, eyes wide in stupefaction.

Junhui sputters, unsure if he’s more surprised by Wonwoo’s sudden appearance or his own predicament. Before he can talk, though, he sneezes.

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Come on.” He picks up his wrist and guides him toward the closest building.

It’s the locker rooms, Junhui realizes as they near the signboard. Wonwoo turns left toward the boys’ side and they enter the large space. He leaves him by a bench in front of a row of lockers, throwing a clean white towel over his head.

“Dry your hair off first,” he instructs. “I’ll go grab you some dry clothes.”

“Thank you.” Junhui drops his soaked bag on the bench and starts to run the towel over the dripping locks. “Why are you at school so early?”

Wonwoo returns with a folded set of PE uniform. “Park Hyungnim is sick,” he explains. “He’s the assistant sports manager, and he asked me to sub for him today. Here.” He extends the clothes toward him. “We should be about the same size, so these should fit. Change out of yours before you get sick.”

“But what about you—Achoo!”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “Worry about yourself first. Come on.” He takes the towel away and tugs on the drench jacket. “Strip.”

Junhui flushes immediately. “Um…” he stammers.

“What?” Noticing the red cheeks and averted eyes, understanding dawns on Wonwoo. “Are you shy?” he teases, tiny grin tugging the corner of his mouth.

“No!” Junhui blushes even more furiously.

Seeing right through him, Wonwoo laughs and turns his back on him. “There. Now hurry up before the baseball team arrives for morning practice.”

“Eep!” Junhui squeaks, stripping at the speed of light. He discards his wet clothes and quickly shoves his legs and arms through Wonwoo’s clothes. A short moment later, he announces, “Okay, I’m done.”

Safe to do so, Wonwoo turns around. Silently, he assesses his teacher-in-training from head to toe. A small smirk stretches his lips. “Looks good on you.”

Junhui pouts. “Are you making fun of me?” He adjusts the t-shirt and jacket. They’re slightly baggie on him, especially the shoulders. How big is Wonwoo in reality? The boy is always in his school uniform, the blazer fitted, so it’s not obvious. Wearing his clothes, though, now makes Junhui wonder.

“I’m not making fun of you,” Wonwoo says patiently. He fixes the folded collar, fingers grazing over the Jeon W. printed on the chest. “I’m just glad it fits.”

“Oh.” Junhui nods. “Thank you, really. But what about you? Aren’t you going to need it for gym later?”

“I have another tracksuit in my locker.”

The double-doors burst open, and the two turn back to see Coach Choi enter, followed by a few students carrying gym bags with the school logo.

“Morning, Wonwoo!” Coach greets enthusiastically with his trademark grin. Seeing Junhui, he does a double-take. “Junhui—I mean, Mr. Wen? What are you doing here so early?”

Slightly embarrassed, Junhui waves at him, sweater paws flapping. “Good morning, Coach! Er, well…” Laughing, he hides partially behind Wonwoo. “I had a bit of a mishap with the sprinklers.” He waves toward the field.

The students, in the midst of changing, burst into laughter and coo in sympathy at the poor young teacher. Coach laughs, too, although it’s not mean-spirited. “Seems like a rite of passage for all the teachers, at this point. I remember when I first started working here. It was winter, by the way, and I tuned into a popsicle.”

Junhui giggles, appreciating the humor and attempt to cheer him up.

“Be sure you dry yourself off completely,” he says, before heading for his office.

Once he’s gone, Junhui turns to Wonwoo to thank him again, bowing. “Thanks to you, I didn’t turn into a popsicle like Coach.”

“Don’t mention it,” he dismisses it with a laugh. “Besides, it’s pretty hard not to come to the rescue of a helpless kitten, right?”

“Wha—”

Wonwoo laughs.

“A-anyway!” Junhui scuffs his shoes. “Is there a plastic bag around here that I can take?” He starts to gather his wet clothes.

“We don’t have a dryer,” Wonwoo say apologetically, “But we do have a spot you can hang them out to dry.”

“Oh, really?”

Wonwoo hums in agreement, showing him the way. “You’ll be able to grab them after school.”

“That’d be great. Thank you so much. You’re so kind for helping me this much.”

Turning over his shoulder, Wonwoo grins. “Like I said, helpless kittens are impossible to ignore.”

Huffing out his red cheeks, Junhui swats him, much to Wonwoo’s amusement.

Throughout the day, Junhui gets teased (affectionately, he has to admit) by students and faculty alike. Several times, teachers even confused him for a student while he walked the hall. Mr. Kim, the calculus teacher, was about to give him detention for wandering the hallways during class time. Even Ms. Lee, the teacher responsible for training him, patted his head and wished him luck with his studies as she laughed. In class, his students called him “Mr. Jeon Junhui.”

Junhui could only sigh and shake his head. Meanwhile, Wonwoo sat his desk, looking extremely smug for reasons Junhui simply cannot fathom.

The teasing only got worse—if possible—after he’s explained what happened to result in his current state. The girls cooed in delight as they alternated between speaking to him and staring longingly at Wonwoo.

“Our class rep is so cool!”

“He’s like a knight in shining armor, coming to your rescue!”

“What were the odds that he’d be there, though?”

“Right? It’s like it was fate!”

“Awww~ I ship it.”

“Oh my god, how scandalous! Student and teacher?”

“Wait, does that mean this is considered boyfriend clothes?

Junhui tried to zone them out as much as possible as he started to set up the lessons, but it was impossible. Flustered, he cleared his throat and shushed them, urging them to focus on the lesson.

Out of his visual periphery, he sees Wonwoo leaning his cheek into his palm, grin growing wider.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

The next day, Junhui brings the borrowed gym uniform washed and folded, along with a container of food. When Wonwoo walks into the classroom, early as usual, Junhui waves him over and hands him the bag.

“I don’t know if you had breakfast yet, but if you did, you can eat this for lunch. Thank you again for everything.”

The paper bag crinkles as Wonwoo peeks inside and sees the food. “Oh, you really didn’t have to go that far, but thanks.”

“Of course I did!” Junhui insists. “You really saved me. Besides.” Cheeks warming up, he hesitates. He glances at the clock, then at the empty hallway through the window. There’s still over thirty minutes before the first bell. It’s just the two of them in the classroom right now. But it’s still embarrassing.

“What?” Wonwoo nudges gently, a dark brow arched.

Sheepish, Junhui reveals, “After I went home and thought about it, the whole morning kinda felt like a dream.”

“What do you mean? You enjoy getting drenched by sprinklers?”

“No!” Junhui gives him a mock glare. “You’re such a smart Alec.”

Wonwoo snorts out a laugh. “You can say smart-ass. Class hasn’t started yet.”

“It’s a bad habit to curse in front of children no matter the time or place.”

Gaze hardening, Wonwoo frowns. “I’m not a kid, Junhui.”

Junhui balks, blinking. “R-right, sorry, uh… Sorry.” Are teenagers always so touchy about their age? He can’t remember how it was for him, even if it hasn’t been that long ago since he was a third year. His friends have always said he had a horrible memory.

“So?” Wonwoo prompts, all traces of annoyance from earlier having vanished. “If getting drenched by sprinklers isn’t your dream, then what was?”

“Oh! Right.” Junhui shakes himself out of his musings. “Don’t laugh, okay?”

Wonwoo momentary pauses his assessment of the food through the clear glass container to look at him. “Okay.”

Chewing on his lip, Junhui then giggles at his own silliness. “For a few seconds yesterday, it kind of felt like I was… You know those stories where the main character somehow gets transported into an alternate universe? And then they meet their crush? Well, it kind felt like that, except I met my idol! And he saved me!” By the end of his little speech, Junhui has completely hidden behind his hands, the warmth of his cheeks seemingly burning his palms.

Wonwoo stares at him wordlessly.

“Wow.” Junhui drops his hands. Blush gone. “No reaction at all. Well, at least you didn’t laugh.”

“You told me that you think I look like that Lucky dude—”

“It’s LuckyOne!”

“—but I didn’t know you had a crush on him—”

“Oh my god! No!” Junhui, frantic, quickly corrects the wrong assumption.

He waves his hands in the air as if it’ll help dispel the words from space. He’s so enthusiastic about it, Wonwoo has to take a step back in caution lest he gets slapped.

His speech is a thousand miles a second. “No! No! No! I am so sorry! Did that freak you out? But you’re wrong! I don’t have a crush on LuckyOne! And I know you’re not him! Plus, I adore him as a fan toward an artist! Not like—Oh, god. Yesterday, I was—no, I man, for a second, it just felt—wait, oh my god, did I make you uncomfortable? Did I weird you out? I need to shut up. I don’t even know why I told you—I am so sorry—”

Wonwoo grabs his arm and tugs on it until Junhui looks at him. “I never said I was uncomfortable around you,” he says evenly but firmly, with sufficient conviction to make Junhui believe him.

“Oh.” Relief washes over him.

“Moreover,” Wonwoo continues, still having not let go of his arm. “I’m glad you’re comfortable talking to me about things you usually keep private.”

Junhui nods. His breathing is returning to normal again. His heart slows down to a regular rhythm, too.

Well, until Wonwoo adds, “Besides, everyone fantasizes. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Junhui gasps, scandalized. “I do not fantasize about LuckyOne!”

Wonwoo cocks a brow. “Why not? You think he’s hot, don’t you?”

Giving him a flat look, Junhui retorts, “You’re just tooting your own horn now, aren’t you?”

Wonwoo snickers, but there’s an empty quality to it that Junhui can’t pinpoint. He stares off toward the windows that overlook the courtyard, before returning to him. “Isn’t that why you like talking to me?” he asks wryly.

Junhui gives him a sharp look.

“I apologize,” Wonwoo quickly says. “That was out of line. I’m sorry.”

While Junhui sits at his desk in stunned silence, Wonwoo picks up the paper bag and goes to his seat. Instead of sitting down, though, he puts his belongings down and heads for the door.

“I’ll return your container tomorrow.”

Junhui scrambles out of his seat. “Where are you—Class is about to start!”

“I’ll be back before the final bell.”

He follows after his figure down the hall until Wonwoo disappears around the corner. Sighing, Junhui slumps on top of his desk. He messed up. He messed up big time.

Even if Wonwoo says he’s not bothered by Junhui’s hobby, it can’t be pleasant when someone compares you to someone else. Especially someone famous. From now on, he’ll make an effort to tone it down in front of Wonwoo. He won’t bring up LuckyOne in front of him anymore.

After the truth came out, and Wonwoo had been so understanding and considerate, Junhui got too carried away, too excited to have someone to talk to about his favorite artist. He took advantage of Wonwoo’s kindness and friendly demeanor. Despite claims the opposite from Wonwoo, Junhui can’t imagine that it’s very pleasant when your teacher talks to you so much outside of class. Wonwoo’s already done so much for him. Junhui needs to get a grip and be a good teacher. He needs to stop bothering him.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

Well, that was the plan.

Apparently, the universe had other plans for him and Wonwoo.

How in the world did things turn out this way?

Sheepishly, Junhui sneaks a peek at the boy walking alongside him. Just as he suspected, out of his school uniform, Wonwoo is a lot more muscular and bulky than Junhui had first thought. He’s in jeans and gray hoodie. By the way the fabric stretches across his shoulders and chest, Junhui is pretty sure it’s not the light color that gives the illusion of size.

Sensing his gaze, Wonwoo glances over at him. “Are you tired? We’re almost there.”

“Oh, cool! That’s great!” Junhui quickly—too quickly—responds. “I’m all good!” He hangs his head in shame. “Thanks for walking with me. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s fine. I was heading for this store anyway.”

Junhui has a hard time believing that coincidence.

He curses his luck. How could he have gotten lost in a tiny village with less than 300 people living in it? Perhaps he can blame it on the lack of street signs. The village is so small and old, everyone knows everything within it. He supposes when it came time to replace the old signs, no one saw the need. Except for Junhui.

The Saturday had started out like the previous ones. He woke up, went through his morning routine, then finished up grading homework and quizzes. The trouble all started after lunch, when he tried to do the dishes and discovered that his sink didn’t drain. Liquid pipe cleaner had obviously not been on any of his shopping lists. As such, he headed down to the convenience store down the block, where he did most of his purchases. Unfortunately, they had run out of the product.

“We’re really sorry,” Mrs. Kim, the store owner, said sadly. “My son was supposed to go pick up the shipment yesterday, but he’s down with a cold.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that! I hope he feels better soon!”

“Thank you. We’ll have more stock next week. Ah, but in the meantime, if you need it right away, I’m sure the store next to Hana’s tailor shop will have plenty.”

“Er… Where exactly is that?” he asked, chuckling in embarrassment.

Mrs. Kim laughed, too, and gave him the address.

A simple errand. Just plug the address into his phone and it’ll show him the way. A fifteen minute walk from his spot. Easy.

Easy if he knew which street was which.

Thirty minutes later, he was unbearably lost. There was more empty fields than people. He had no idea how he even got there. The best he could do was walk straight, searching for buildings. Somehow, he made it back to town, but he had no clue as to where he was in relation to his apartment.

In the midst of fumbling around, searching for someone to ask directions from, Wonwoo had found him. Junhui had been so happy to see someone familiar, he hadn’t even questioned his student’s appearance.

Once the adrenaline has worn off, Junhui has been keeping his distance. He knows he’s a lot more reserved than usual. He’s barely talked to Wonwoo since they met up. He’s not really sure how to act toward him in the wake of their last conversation. From the looks of things, Wonwoo isn’t angry. He’s relaxed, hands stuffed into his pockets, walking leisurely. There’s absolutely no sign of awkwardness on his part. If Wonwoo would prefer that he forgets it happened, then Junhui can do that.

Very soon, the store comes into view. Just as Mrs. Kim said, next door is a tailor shop, pretty dresses on display behind the vitrine. The two enter the store, and the little bell chimes announcing their arrival. In comparison to Mrs. Kim’s little market, this store is slightly larger, with a wider range of products and brands to choose from. He grabs a basket at the door, then heads straight for the cleaning products. He doesn’t want to get distracted and forget the one thing he went through all the efforts to acquire.

Once the bottle is safely in his basket, he deems it safe to browse around. The first stop he makes is at the snacks aisle. He drops in a case of milktea on the way, then peruses all the different spicy chips, debating which one to get. Just as he’s about to grab a bag, someone snatches it.

Junhui jumps back, blinking. He hears Wonwoo laugh.

“You’re always so jumpy,” he comments.

With a huff, Junhui stomps down the urge to stick his tongue out. “Only because of a certain someone. Ooh! Good choice!” he exclaims, checking out the items in Wonwoo’s basket. “This is the first time I’ve met someone who appreciates the delicacies of spicy chips.”

Wonwoo chuckles. He glimpses at Junhui’s basket. “This is my first time seeing someone consume so much milktea.”

“Because it’s delicious~”

“Right. So delicious, I bet you have milktea flowing through your blood vessels instead.”

Laughing, Junhui clasps his hands together and bats his eyelashes exaggeratedly. “Aw, are you trying to call me sweet?”

“Yes.”

Junhui flushes, taken off-guard by how serious and unyielding Wonwoo is in his answer. He needs to diffuse the situation and save his own cheeks from bursting. “But, um, being sweet all the time isn’t always great, right? I mean, imagine if a vampire were to bite me. He’d spit me out immediately in disappointment.” he laughs, although internally he wants to cry. What am I even saying to him???

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Wonwoo says casually, contemplating another brand of chips.

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“But don’t you hate sweets?” At this point, he’s pretty sure his brain has gone on vacation, leaving him to fend for himself. “You grimaced then scowled when the kids in home ec asked you to taste test their cakes.”

“True,” Wonwoo nods in consideration. “I usually don’t like anything too sweet.” He glances over at him. “But I can make exceptions.” Suddenly, Wonwoo shows him a bag of gummy bears. “These are really good.”

Junhui flushes red from head to toe. First, because of Wonwoo’s teasing, then at the realization that Wonwoo was messing with him all along. Stammering for a couple seconds, he can’t come up with any retort. So he flees with a squeak. All the way across the store until he spots the magazine racks. He puts on the breaks, nearly falling into the shelves in his haste.

Embarrassment all but forgotten, he plucks the magazine out and flips through the pages until he comes face to face with LuckyOne. With the fall midterms soon approaching, he had almost forgotten about the magazine coming out. His idol has a ten-page spread, including exclusive photos and interview. He probably looks like a deranged person, giggling to himself, all giddy and ecstatic, pouring over a magazine, but he can’t care less in that insteant.

While he admires the pictures and reads the short interview excerpts, he senses something tug at his side. He casts a brief glance, thinking his bag must have caught on something. To his surprise, he finds Wonwoo next to him. He’s picked up the keychains hanging on Junhui’s bag: LuckyOne’s merch. Wonwoo’s gaze shifts from the keychains to the phone charms dangling through Junhui’s grasp.

“You like this guy a lot, huh,” he says quietly, almost too low for Junhui to hear. Maybe more to himself than for anyone else to hear.

“I’m sorry,” Junhui winces, closing the magazine and hiding it behind his back. “Is it too weird after all?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No, it’s just an observation.”

Hesitating, Junhui isn’t sure what to do. Should he return the magazine and come back another time to buy it?

Wonwoo talking yanks him back.

“How can you like someone so much when you’ve never even met him?”

“But I have!” Junhui exclaims, clutching the magazine to his chest.

Wonwoo’s head whips around, eyes large in surprise. They light up with something Junhui can’t determine, but it’s gone before he can ask.

“I’ve met LuckyOne at fansigning events three times!”

Wonwoo deflates. A flat look replaces his surprise. “That hardly counts as meeting. He probably has no idea who you are.”

“It’s all right.” Junhui shrugs with a sincere smile. “He’s my idol, and I love him no matter what.”

Turning to the side, Wonwoo mutters, “Such a fool.”

“Huh? Did you say something?”

“No, nothing.” He holds up his basket. “I’m gonna go pay. Take your time.” He gestures toward the magazine.

“Oh. Okay,” Junhui says quietly to himself, watching Wonwoo walk away. Looking down at the pictures, he sighs and kicks himself. Why can’t he shut up when it comes to LuckyOne?

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

The first round of midterms came and went. Today, Junhui returns their exams. He offers congratulations to the top students, and encourages the ones who didn’t do as well as they had hoped. Overall, though, everyone has improved since their previous tests, so he’s very proud of them.

“Let’s go celebrate!” Minjee suggests as the final bell rings and signals the end of the day.

Her idea is met with many agreements. Junhui smiles to himself as he half-listens to them making plans. Someone wants to go try out the new crêpe place in the nearest city. Someone else proposes a trip to the arcade.

“That’s no fun,” Soonjae complains. “Wonwoo always wins. Let’s go play indoor soccer!”

“We’re already mentally drained from exams,” Hwanji points out. “Now you want us to be physically exhausted, too? Vetoed!”

Junhui turns off his laptop and rearranges his textbooks to fit into his bag. He’s getting ready to go home, too. For once, he’s managed to finish all of his reports ahead of time, which means he gets to spend his weekend sleeping and catching up on Diamond Days’ activities. Hitching his bag over his shoulder, he bids his class a good weekend.

“Have fun, you guys. But just because it’s Friday, don’t stay out too late, okay? I’ll see you on Mon—”

“Wait, Mr. Wen!” Minjee interjects, arm raised as if asking a question.

Junhui can’t help giggle. “Yes, what’s up?”

“Why don’t you come with us, too?”

Brows raised and eyes widening, Junhui blinks owlishly at his students. “Go where?”

“To karaoke!”

“Karaoke,” he repeats. “Oh, it’s okay. You guys can go ahead—”

“Come on!” The rest of the class exclaim, apparently intent on dragging him into their celebration. “It’ll be fun! Besides, we’re all super curious! You’re always singing under your breath when you’re working. We want to hear you sing for real!”

“Oh, my god.” Junhui presses a hand over his face, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you could hear me.”

The kids laugh, adding more and more encouragements. “Don’t be shy, Mr. Wen! We’re all going to sing! Plus, they have really good food!”

Junhui should feel a little miffed that he’s so easy to read that even his students know about his love for delicious foods. However, he’s genuinely touched that they want to include him in their activities. He knows it’s probably because he’s rather close in age with them, but he’d also like to think that as a teacher, they trust and like him, too.

“You guys are really so persistent,” he feigns annoyance, but his laughter gives him away.

“Did you already have plans?” a deep, lovely voice asks.

Junhui jolts, his smile faltering slightly as he looks past Minjee and the others to see Wonwoo standing by his desk staring at him. The two of them haven’t spoken outside the confines of their student-teacher relationship. Wonwoo still stays after school to help him, but Junhui has been too scared to initiate any real conversation after his last blunder at the store.

“Oh, shoot!” Minjee winces, eyes downcast. “Sorry, Mr. Wen. We didn’t really think about your schedule before inviting you.”

Technically, Junhui did have prior engagements, but he can’t exactly tell them that he planned on fanboying over his idol, can he? Especially not when Wonwoo’s the one who asked.

“N-no, it’s fine!” He grins. “I was just going to go home and nap.”

The kids laugh in relief and reprise their cajoling. “Then it’s settled. Let’s go!”

Before Junhui can so much as take a step forward, half a dozen students rush toward him and urge him toward the door. The rest of the class follow behind, including Wonwoo. Junhui’s heart stutters.

Like much of the businesses and buildings around the village, the karaoke place is within walking distance of the school. The kids take him down alleys and cut through empty fields, showing him shortcuts that he had previously never known.

Once inside, true to their word, the food is absolutely delicious. Junhui soon finds out the cook is Mrs. Park, Jungseok’s mom. No wonder the kid was so confident earlier. Munching on the snacks, Junhui watches and cheers each group of singers, shaking the tambourine with ardor. He laughs more than he expected. His students are so silly. Truthfully, it’s more like attending a variety show than watching a singing competition.

By the time the first hour passes, every single person has cried tears of laughter. Junhui dabs at his eyes, breathing ragged, cheeks hurting in the best way. Not even Wonwoo was immune. Although not as boisterous as his peers, he’s been snickering and laughing along to the shenanigans. In fact, he laughed so hard, his nose scrunched adorably. It had been such a contrast to the usual stoic and reserved class rep persona from class, Junhui couldn’t help feeling endeared.

“All right, let’s take a break from the silliness,” Kangseo proposes, still wheezing with repressed laughter as he stands in front of the machine. “We need to actually sing.”

“We’ve been singing!” Soonjae retorts, sipping on his soda. “My sore throat can attest to that.”

“None of the scores have gone past 40 points,” Minjee points out. “Ahh… We need to redeem ourselves.”

“Mr. Wen!” Jihyun calls, startling their teacher. She and Minjee turn to him with wicked grins. “It’s your turn!”

“Er… I don’t think I can do any better,” Junhui shrinks back into the cushions of the sofa. “I’ve been laughing too much.”

“It’s not fair, Mr. Wen!” Soonjae whines. “Pleaaaaaaase! We all have to sing!”

“Come on, Mr. Wen!”

“Sing, Mr. Wen!”

“You have such a sweet voice, Mr. Wen!”

Shaking his head, Junhui sighs and relents. “If you fall asleep, remember that you’re the ones who asked.”

His non-serious threat is met with cheers and applause. Minjee hands him the microphone and remote to browse through the catalogue for his song of choice. Initially, Junhui plans on searching up a nice ballad—his preferred genre. However, as he goes through the list, an artist jumps out at him.

“Oooh!” he cries out, hopping in place as he points at the screen. “I can’t believe they have Diamond Days songs here!”

“Diamond Days?” Jihyun repeats, curious. “Is it a band you’re into, Mr. Wen?”

“Yeah! They’re awesome!”

“Oh, is that what’s hanging on your bag? Their merch?”

“Hey!” Junhui half-heartedly scolds. “Don’t just grab your teacher's bag!”

“I’ve never heard of them before,” Jungseok admits. “But I gotta see what Mr. Wen’s favorite band is like.”

“Me, too!”

“What kind of band are they?”

Junhui scrolls through the set of their songs, seeing which ones are available. Truth be told, he’s not sure he can sing most of their library. But they do have a couple ballads that he can attempt.

“They focus primarily on the hip-hop side of k-pop,” Junhui explains. “But they do vary from time to time. They’re not exactly mainstream, so I wouldn’t expect you kids to know of them.” He laughs at their groans and complaints about being called kids. “Okay, let’s try this one.”

The first notes of the song drift through the room, and Junhui immediately feels elated. There’s no proper way to describe the comfort that the melody brings him. The familiarity and warmth, like meeting an old, precious friend. His heart settles into an indescribable calmness as he feels himself smile and sway to the rhythm. He takes in a breath. The first lines appear on the screen, but Junhui doesn’t need them. He knows the lyrics by heart.

He sings.

The song ends before he’s even conscious of it. The melody ebbs away, little by little, fading into the silence of the room. Junhui slowly opens his eyes. Only to nearly jump out of his skin at the applause and cheers coming from his students. They hoot and scream, throwing out compliments like people throw confetti.

“No way! Mr. Wen!”

“That was such a good song!”

“Mr. Wen! How could you have hidden your talent from us!”

“You have to participate in the year-end talent show for sure! Our class is definitely going to win with you representing us!”

“This machine is insane! How can it give you only a score of 99?! This is my first time hearing this song, but I know your performance deserves a 100!”

Embarrassed and shy, Junhui can only giggle quietly and hide behind his hands as he looks at his students with gratitude and fondness. His gaze sweeps casually over the animated and cheerful faces, landing on Wonwoo.

The latter stares intently at him, expression unreadable. Unlike his peers and friends, Wonwoo sits in the booth stoically, quietly sipping at his soda. He only breaks eye contact with Junhui to glare at the screen behind him, where video clips of the band flash past.

Junhui opens his mouth, foot raised to walk over, but—

“Oh, my god! Are they the members?”

“They’re hot.”

“Wait, what are they called again? Diamond Days?” Minjee pulls out her phone. “If the song Mr. Wen just sang was a B-side, I can’t even imagine how good their title track is.”

“I wanna see!”

“Me, too! Me, too!” Soonjae and Jihyun crowd around their friend to watch the tiny screen. Within seconds, the familiar notes of Diamond Days’ latest title song burst through the speakers. It gathers more interest as the boys sitting close by also pile over to watch.

“Hey, doesn’t he look like Wonwoo?” Mina giggles, pointing.

“Oh, my god, he totally does!” Hwanji laughs and turns over his shoulder to search for his friend. “Dude, it’s kinda freaky how you guys look alike.”

“Mr. Wen, you think so, too, right?”

“Hey, maybe this is why the two of them get along so well.”

Junhui stands rooted to the spot. He feels Wonwoo’s gaze burn into his skin. The class might not be waiting for a real answer, but Wonwoo is. What is he supposed to do? Laugh it off with them? Ask them to stop comparing Wonwoo to LuckyOne? None of them is truly serious. If he scolds them, won’t he make the situation awkward? His mouth opens and closes like a fish, but no words come out. What’s the right thing to do? 

He takes too long to decide.

Wonwoo sighs and gets to his feet. “I’m gonna head home,” he announces, much to the dismay of the entire room.

“Aw, why?”

“You didn’t even sing yet!”

“You’re leaving already?”

“Are you okay?” Soonjae asks, concerned.

“I’m fine. I just remembered I have something to do. You guys have fun.”

The class wave him goodbye, then return to checking out Diamond Days’ music videos. The sound of the door closing shoves Junhui into action. Quickly, he grabs his jacket and bag.

“Sorry, you guys, I gotta go, too. Don’t stay out too late, okay?”

Before they can ask him what’s wrong, Junhui dashes out of the building. He catches up to Wonwoo easily, the boy having barely started up the low hill toward the residential blocks.

“Wonwoo! Wonwoo—wait!”

Wonwoo slows down and turns over his shoulder. Incredibly, he does stop and wait for Junhui to reach him. He regards him evenly, expression unruffled. He doesn’t look angry or upset, but he’s far from happy; that’s for certain.

“I’m sorry! I should have asked them to stop. They didn’t mean anything by it, but I know you don’t like to be compared—I shouldn’t even have picked their song to begin with. I’m really sorry. It was thoughtless—I wasn’t thinking.”

Irritation finally bleeds through and cracks open the so carefully crafted mask of indifference. Wonwoo grits his teeth, jaw clenched. He breathes in deeply, releasing it slowly. “That’s not the issue. I meant it when I said that you shouldn’t be ashamed of what makes you happy.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Junhui asks, head tilted to the side, utterly confused.

Wonwoo faces him straight on. “When you look at me, who do you really see?”

Taken aback, Junhui furrows his brows. “What?”

“I know I’m asking for the impossible,” he lets out a wry laugh. “But there’s no way for you to look at me and not see him, right?”

“I—”

As though refusing to hear the answer, Wonwoo shakes his head and backs away. “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. There’s nothing for you to feel guilty over. I, uh, I need to clear my head. I’m sorry.” Without giving Junhui any opportunity to reply, Wonwoo turns around and quickly jogs away.

Leaving Junhui baffled and bewildered. How is he supposed to proceed from here on out? Regardless of what Wonwoo said, he knows he’s at least partially to blame. He never meant to upset Wonwoo in any shape or form.

But that’s not fully the cause for the ache in his chest and the confusion in his mind. It’s the way Wonwoo had looked at him. Why was there so much anguish swirling in his dark eyes? Junhui understands not wanting to be compared to someone else. But why would it cause him pain? And it’s specific to Junhui. Wonwoo hardly reacted to his friends’ teasing in the karaoke room.

Does Wonwoo like h—

No no no nonononono!!!

Blushing furiously, Junhui shakes his head and waves his hands all around his head to disperse the bubble of thought. There’s no way.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

Raindrops pelt steadily against the window panes. The teacher’s lounge is eerily quiet aside from the rainstorm raging outside. The rest of the faculty have left a little over than half an hour ago. Junhui had volunteered to stay behind to finish up paperwork and close up. Unlike the others, he doesn’t have a spouse and kids waiting for him at home. He can stay as late he needs.

Although truth be told, staying behind alone in an empty school is rather scary. Just as the thought crosses his mind, the overhead lights flicker. In the distance, thunder roars and lightning strikes. Junhui shudders. All the ghost stories about haunted schools in the countryside are just fiction, right? No ounce of truth, right?

Whimpering quietly, he huddles close to the school computer and types quicker. The sooner he finishes, the quicker he’ll get to go home.

Outside, the storm rumbles.

Inside, the taptaptap of the keyboard resonates.

So engrossed in his task, he doesn’t hear the clack of shoes going down the hallway toward him.

“Junhui, I’m—”

He shrieks, jolting in his seat. Hand clutching at his chest, he spins toward the open doorway to see Nurse Mari, trying to hold back her giggles. “Oh, my god,” Junhui breathes out, still feeling the adrenaline prickle his fingertips. “I thought everyone already left.”

“I apologize,” she says sincerely in between titters. “I got held back, but I am leaving now. You should, too.” She inclines her head toward the windows behind him. “The storm is only going to get worse as the afternoon progresses.”

“Okay. I’m almost done.”

She nods. “I’ve already walked the corridor, but you should still do a final sweep before you leave in case students are still around.”

Junhui gives her a thumbs-up. “Got it. Have a safe trip.”

“The same to you.” She waves on her way.

“Okay, just ten more minutes,” he mumbles to himself. He’ll come in early on Monday for the rest.

Unfortunately, ten quickly turn to fifteen. Then twenty to thirty.

He’s too focused to notice the time or remember what Nurse Mari said about the storm.

Suddenly, the power goes out. He’s plunged into darkness.

Junhui freezes for a second, eyes blinking rapidly to try to adapt to the dark. Not even the lamps in the courtyard can lend him any sort of brightness. The storm must have taken out a transformer. Hopefully, it’s not too serious and the electrical workers can fix it. Although for now, it’s clear that he can’t keep working.

Scrambling in the dark, Junhui feels around for his bag at his feet and fumbles with the objects inside until he grips the perfect item. With flourish, he pulls out his lightstick and turns it on. He cries out in shock when the brightness smacks him in the face. But it’s fine. With it chasing away the shadows, Junhui feels a little more calm as he collects his things and stuffs them into his bag.

Clutching the lightstick like a lifeline, Junhui cautiously makes his way out of the teacher’s lounge. He grips the school keys in his other hand, a possible defensive weapon if need be—although logically, keys are hardly going to be effective against demons and ghosts—but he ignores logic in favor of his immediate survival.

Earlier in the afternoon, when the lights still worked, the empty school hadn’t been nearly as creepy. Now that he’s left completely alone, he hears every noise with sharp clarity. The roaring rain against the glass, the sharp, howling wind. Even the usual creaks of the old flooring sound different now. He checks over his shoulders every few steps, paranoid that someone might be lurking in the shadows, ready to murder him.

He’s shaking like a leaf as he scurries down the corridor. Scared as he might be, he’s still a teacher with responsibilities. He needs to ensure that no one is locked inside the building before he can go home.

“Anyone still here?” he calls out timidly, checking classroom after classroom. He’s greeted by nothing but creaks and rumbling thunder.

He makes it through all three floors unmolested by ghosts. But now that he’s reached the door leading down to the basement, he wonders if he needs to check in there, too. Are students even allowed down? He’ll try the knob. If it’s locked, then he can go home with a clear conscience.

He switches the keys to the hand holding the lightstick in order to free his right. Swallowing, he tries to steady his shaking to no success. Whatever. Band-aid approach, right? He reaches forward.

The door swings open.

Junhui screams and falls backward onto the floor. The lightstick slips out of his grasp, rolling several feet away. It’s too dark. His eyes had gotten used to the glow of the light. They can’t dilate quickly enough to give him clear sight. Everything is hazy.

Hands stretch out toward him.

Panic-stricken, Junhui screws his eyes shut and curls into a ball, screaming for help against the ghost.

“Junhui!” a deep but familiar voice calls.

He registers the warmth enveloping his upper arms. The touch is solid. It’s human.

His eyes snap open to see Wonwoo peering down at him.  Despite his expression half buried in shadows, he can spot the sheer exasperation and disbelief.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks, pulling him to his feet gently. “Did you hit your head?”

The young teacher shakes his head. Relief and confusion war inside his head. “Why… Why are you here?” He glances at the open basement door, then at Wonwoo.

“I was in the library when the power went out,” he explains. “So I went to the basement to search for the electrical panel. I thought I could reset the breakers, but it didn’t work.” He points to the windows. “It’s much worse.”

Now that Junhui is actually looking, his eyes widen in surprise. A whole portion of the village has disappeared. Well, not really. But all the little yellow dots of light have completely melted away in the area surrounding the school.

Leaving Junhui to gap at the blackout, Wonwoo turns to pick up the fallen lightstick. He brings it back to him, dark brow arched, completely unimpressed. “This is your flashlight?”

“So what?” Indignant, Junhui upturns his nose. “It’s super bright, see? Plus, I didn’t know anyone else was left in the building, so having LuckyOne with me helped.”

A loud crash sounds from somewhere in the courtyard. Junhui jumps, head whipping back and forth. Heart in his throat, he asks, “What was that?”

“Relax. It’s probably just a tree branch falling because of the wind,” Wonwoo placates. “Still such a scaredy-cat,” he mutters.

Junhui turns to him. “Did you say something?”

“I said you’re a scaredy-cat.”

“Don’t make fun of your elders!”

“By barely three years?”

“Yes!”

“Sure. As soon as you release your death-grip around my arm.”

With a startled realization, Junhui looks down to see that, indeed, he’s hugging onto Wonwoo’s arm, body bowed into him. He hasn’t even been conscious of his actions. Whether it’s out of real, genuine fear, or because of his inner brat, he’s not sure, but he refuses to let go.

“Don’t wanna!”

Wonwoo bursts into laughter. “Fine.” With a flick of his finger, he turns off the lightstick and hands it back to him. “Put it away.”

Junhui obediently holds it, but looks up to meet Wonwoo’s gaze. “Why?” he asks, full of innocence.

“You have me. So you don’t need him anymore, right?”

His cheeks flush bright red. Taking advantage of the dark, he presses his face against Wonwoo’s shoulder and nods timidly. The fabric of the blazer scratch at his skin, and the many layers of clothing make it hard for Wonwoo’s body heat to reach him, but Junhui relaxes, regardless.

Cautiously, they walk toward the exit using the flashlight on Wonwoo’s phone to light their way. Junhui still clings to Wonwoo’s arm, jolting at every little noise.

“Are you sure the school isn’t haunted?” he asks in a hushed whisper.

Wonwoo cracks up. “Well, there is this one rumor about a—”

“No no no!” Junhui screws his eyes shut and shakes his head at the speed of light. “Don’t tell me! I don’t wanna know!”

Wonwoo only laughs harder.

After a moment, Junhui chews on his bottom lip and chooses his words carefully. “Wonwoo.”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry about last week.”

Even without looking, Junhui senses Wonwoo glimpsing over at him briefly. “I already told you it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” he insists. “Your feelings are important to me.”

“Why? Because I’m your student?”

“Yes, obviously, but…”

Wonwoo tenses, just barely. If Junhui hadn’t been holding on to him, he probably never would have noticed. He swallows. “I’d like to think that we’re friends, too.” He lifts his face slightly, looking at him from under his lashes. “Aren’t we?”

Holding his gaze for a few seconds, Wonwoo eventually sighs. “Yeah.”

They make it to the front doors in one piece. Junhui locks up and tugs on the handles to ensure they’re truly secure. The rain shows no sign of letting up. He truly hopes his umbrella can hold out until he makes it home.

“Are you going to be okay on your own?” Wonwoo wants to know.

“Yeah, I think so.” He shakes out his umbrella. “It’s pretty durable, and I don’t live that far away.”

“I know, that’s why I’m asking. Your apartment building is within the area of the blackout. You won’t have any power.”

Finally remembering, Junhui breathes out, “Oh.” He scratches at his hair. “Is there any internet cafés in the village?”

Wonwoo gives him a flat look.

“Right,” he chuckles. “I suppose not.”

Casually, Wonwoo wonders, “Do you want to stay over?”

Junhui eyes him. “Uh… That’s a kind offer, but I doubt your parents would appreciate an uninvited guest mooching off their electricity and food.”

“I don’t live with my parents. The apartment belongs to my older cousin, but he wouldn’t mind.”

“What? Then it’s even more reason for me not to come over.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’ It’s inappropriate!”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I’m letting you take shelter from the rain. It’s not like we’re eloping.”

Blushing anew, Junhui stomps his foot. “Wonwoo!”

“What?” he retorts, not an ounce of remorse.

With a groan, Junhui presses his face into his hands. “Okay, fine. Then you have to let me cook you dinner.”

“You want to cook me dinner?” Wonwoo repeats slowly. “Why?”

“I have to do something to thank you for letting me stay over!” Junhui replies as if it’s the most obvious fact in the world.

“All right. Dinner. Deal. Now let’s go before we both catch pneumonia.”

“Ark!”

Huddling close under the umbrella, they hurry on down the road. Junhui knows the general area of Wonwoo’s building, but he’s never gone. It doesn’t look at all that different from Junhui’s block, perhaps built a little more recently, going by the electronic locks on the doors. Other than that, the interior is an average apartment with two bedrooms and a large living room at the center.

“I’ll go grab some towels,” Wonwoo says in the foyer while they toe off their shoes. He takes a closer look at Junhui, then decides, “I better get you another set of clothes while I’m at it.”

“I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“I told you it’s fine. Go inside. The heater should already be on.”

“It is,” Junhui confirms with a small laugh, removing his soaked jacket. “It’s like summer.”

While Wonwoo runs to his room to change, Junhui gingerly enters the apartment. He mentioned an older cousin. Is the man home right now? The lights were off when Wonwoo unlocked the door, so probably not. Junhui feels a little relieved. If no one is around, then his presence won’t be seen as an intrusion.

He checks the fridge, and when he finds it stocked, he lets out a small cheer. There’s no point in promising to cook if there’s no ingredients available. Quickly, he shifts the items around to take stock of what’s there, running through the recipes in his head for what he can cook in the shortest amount of time.

A couple minutes later, Wonwoo returns in lounge clothes. He holds out a folded pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Junhui, along with a clean towel. “You can shower first. You don’t have to throw yourself into the kitchen right away.”

Junhui giggles, accepting the clothes. “Thank you. And I know. I just wanted to know what you have.”

“The bathroom is down the hall to the right.”

“Thanks!”

Junhui runs off, glad to soon be able to peel off the damp and cold clothes.

After dinner, Wonwoo volunteers himself to do the dishes and all but kicks Junhui out into the living room. He tells him to relax and do as he likes, but Junhui can’t exactly do whatever he wants in someone else’s home. So he decides to just sit by the coffee table and scroll through social media while he waits for Wonwoo to finish. It’s then that he notices a plushie on the shelf under the television.

Eyes growing to the size of saucers, Junhui rubs them several times with closed fists to make sure he’s not hallucinating. When the plushie remains, he slowly crawls over. He doesn’t dare touch it.

Wonwoo walks in to see him in a daze. He approaches and turns on the television, along with his gaming equipment. “What are you staring at—Oh.”

“Wonwoo!” Junhui whips around, pointing to the plushie. “Why—How—Where—”

“What and when,” he jokes.

Junhui swats his shin. “I’m serious! This is a very rare, super limited edition of LuckyOne’s doll! Only 526 of them were sold in celebration of Diamond Day’s 1st anniversary last year!” He’s doing it again—he’s spazzing out about his idols in front of Wonwoo. But he can’t help it. He has to know how and where Wonwoo got the plushie.

“Oh, really?” the latter answers. He grabs it off of the shelf with zero respect. He flips it back and forth, then hands it to Junhui. “I went to the city with my cousin the other day, and I won it.”

“You won it?” Junhui asks in awe, eyeing the doll like the greatest treasure in the world.

“Yeah, I don’t usually play crane games, but I saw the prizes listed and I thought of you. I tried it out for kicks.” He shrugs, chuckling. “Who knew I’d actually win.”

“That’s amazing,” Junhui compliments. “I don’t think I’ve ever won a single crane game. And yet here you were, getting the grand prize. You are so lucky. Err… Pardon the pun.”

Wonwoo snorts out a laugh, waving the doll in the space between them. “Here. You can have it.”

“What?” Junhui stares at the plushie, then lifts his head to look at Wonwoo. “I can’t accept it!”

“Sure you can.” Crouching down to be on the same eye level, Wonwoo picks up his hand and sets the doll into his grasp. “We both know the little guy will be appreciated much more appropriately with you than with me.”

“But—”

“Just think of it as thanks for cooking me dinner.”

Junhui pouts, holding the precious doll between his palms. He gently strokes over the tiny lapel of the jacket, fingertips grazing the black hair. “That doesn’t even make sense,” he mumbles. “I cooked you dinner in exchange for you letting me stay the night.”

“Hm.” Seemingly to think it off, Wonwoo eventually nods in agreement. “Okay, you’re right. In that case.” Quicker than Junhui has seen him, Wonwoo snatches the doll back and marches to the trash bin. “If you don’t want it, then I guess I’ll have to toss it.”

“No! Don’t!” Junhui springs to his feet and sprints across the room, yanking it back. Wonwoo offers no resistance whatsoever. “I’ll keep it.” Tenderly, Junhui cradles the adorably plushie and pets it.

Wonwoo shakes his head, but a small smile graces his handsome face as he watches Junhui clip the doll to his bag.

The following morning, shortly after the two finish their bowls of cereal and toasts for breakfast, someone knocks at the door. Wonwoo checks his phone, brows knitted together in puzzlement. Clearly, he’s not expecting anyone. Junhui thinks it’s as good as any time to go home, too. Even if nothing happened, and Wonwoo only helped Junhui out from the goodness of his heart, it would still be hard to explain to the rest of the world. They can say whatever they want about Junhui, but he doesn’t want any weird rumors to fly about Wonwoo.

So while the latter goes to answer the door, Junhui gathers his things, double-checking he doesn’t forget anything. At the sight of the LuckyOne doll, he giggles and pats it a few times. He’ll have to wear Wonwoo’s clothes home again, he realizes, but at least his jacket is dry. Swinging his bag over his shoulders, he tiptoes out toward the living room, afraid of disturbing Wonwoo and his guest.

“It starts at 11,” a male voice says.

Wonwoo grumbles. “Leave it to Jiwon to mess up. Horrible timing.”

A laugh. “He didn’t exactly plan it.”

Sighing, Wonwoo runs a hand through his hair. “I know, I’m just…”

The floor creaks quietly as Junhui walks, and the two other turn toward the hallway. Junhui doesn’t recognize the other man, but can’t be much older than him. In fact, he’s a very handsome young man. Seeing him, the man smiles.

“Good morning!”

“G-good morning,” Junhui bows.

Wonwoo starts making introductions, although his expression is rather sour. “Junhui, this is Yoon Jeonghan. My cousin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Junhui quickly bows once more. “I’m the teacher-in-training at Wonwoo’s school. Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

“Oh!” Jeonghan’s eyes light up. He spins his attention from Junhui to Wonwoo, grin wide and excited. Next to him, though, Wonwoo closes his eyes and groans. “So you’re his teacher! I was wondering where Wonwoo found such a cutie patootie boyfriend.”

Junhui squeaks, face aflame.

Wonwoo clicks his tongue and shoves his cousin toward the door. “Go away. Wait in the car.”

Tittering, Jeonghan drags his feet. “Oh, man, I cannot wait to tell Cheolie. He is going to kick your butt for putting your hand on your teacher. You naughty naughty—”

“Oh, my god, will you quit it?!”

Jeonghan continues to cackle even after Wonwoo closes the door.

With a sigh and a hanging head, Wonwoo returns to the living room. “I’m sorry about him. He’s a menace. Despite his threats, he’s not going to say anything weird, don’t worry.”

“I’m fine,” Junhui reassures him, although he’s still burning. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble with uh, Cheolie?”

“That’s just his boyfriend,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “One of them, anyway.”

“What?”

“Don’t ask,” Wonwoo puts a hand up. “I have no idea what’s going between the three of them, and I’d prefer it to stay that way.”

“Got it.”

Finally getting a good look at him, Wonwoo infers, “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah.” Smiling, he nods. “Thank you for your hospitality. You need to go, too?”

Wonwoo glances at the door, shoulders slumped in preemptive exhaustion. “Unfortunately.”

Junhui smiles in sympathy and pats his shoulder. “Whatever it is, I know you’ll do great!”

“Even if it’s an optometrist appointment?”

“Uh…” Okay, so that does take him by surprise, but Junhui quickly retorts, “Yes, you’ll do great choosing between lens 1 and lens 2.”

Wonwoo laughs. “Thanks. Do you know how to get back to your building from here?”

“I think so!”

“Give me your phone.”

Puzzled, but trusting, Junhui quickly unlocks it and hands it over. Wonwoo calls his own number, the device ringing from the dining table.

“There. If you get lost, call or text me.”

Junhui is about to tell him he’s too much of a worrywart, but then he recalls getting lost and walking aimlessly through the rice fields a few weeks ago. So he replies with his gratitude.

Wonwoo walks him to the door, but before he lets him go out, he double-checks that Jeonghan is nowhere in sight. Only then does he open the door wide. Junhui can’t help laughing.

On his way home, Junhui miraculously doesn’t get lost. It helps that Wonwoo lives pretty close to the one big supermarket in the whole village, so Junhui does know his way around that area. Since he’s right there, he swings by to buy some groceries and restock on batteries and flashlights. From the looks of the blue sky and warm sunshine, there won’t be any storm tonight, but better safe than sorry.

By the time he enters his apartment, it’s midday. He puts away the perishables into the fridge, along with the dried goods into the pantry. Then he whips up a simple lunch. Finally, he’ll soon be able to fanboy while watching Diamond Days’ videos after he cleans up the dishes.

At the thought, Junhui runs to his bag for the doll.

His blood runs cold when he sees the empty clasp.

In a panic, Junhui searches around the house, under furnitures, in the hallway. He even opens the fridge to check. It’s nowhere in the apartment. It must have fallen off from his walk. Grabbing his keys, phone and wallet, he shoves on his shoes and runs out into the street. He needs to retrace his steps.

Heart in his throat, he walks back the way he had come from a couple hours ago, head bowed to the ground. It’s a Saturday. Would a lot of little children be out and about? Could one of them have found it? It is, in essence, a toy. He wouldn’t be surprised if a little child picks it up and keeps it. At the thought, his stomach churns, and his heart aches.

He deviates from the path, searching through bushes and shrubs. If not children, then stray dogs and cats could have dragged it around, too. Imagining little LuckyOne torn and dirty makes his heart squeeze. It’s all Junhui’s fault. He should have taken better care of it.

Nothing.

No trace whatsoever of the plushie.

He reaches the parking lot of the supermarket. He does a full round, checking trash bins, too. When he doesn’t find anything, he goes inside and asks at the front desk. The employees, such kind people, help him search. But even after nearly an hour, all they can offer him is their sympathy and good luck wishes. Junhui thanks them sincerely and sets off.

The last place he hasn’t checked is Wonwoo’s apartment.

God, he really is the worst, isn’t he? Why does he keep bothering the guy? Wonwoo’s not even home.

Taking a deep breath, Junhui combs the area around the apartment complex. Of course he finds nothing. As a last resort, he climbs the stairs and searches the hallway outside of Wonwoo’s home. When that also amounts to naught, Junhui hangs his head. Tears of frustration prickles his eyes. He wipes at them roughly, forcing himself to breathe and calm down.

Keys jingling come from the entrance of the stairs. Junhui needs to leave before one of the tenants call the police thinking he’s a suspicious person. He turns, ready to head back, when he runs into Wonwoo climbing the steps.

“Junhui? What are you doing—Are you crying?”

“No,” he mumbles.

“What happened?” In a flash, Wonwoo stands in front of him, holding his upper arms to prevent him from walking away. “Are you hurt?”

Junhui shakes his head. “I lost your doll,” he laments, voice cracking. “I’ve been looking for it all afternoon, but it’s gone.”

“What?” Relieved, yet exasperated, Wonwoo backs up. “It’s just a toy. I understand trying to find it, but there’s a limit, Jun. It shouldn’t be something to cry over.”

“It’s not just a toy!” Junhui cries out. “It’s special!” Before he can add more to his argument, he sneezes.

Afternoon is quickly fading into evening. The air has grown chilly without his realization. Moreover, when he ran out earlier, he hadn’t put on a jacket. He’s still in Wonwoo’s sweats and t-shirt. Shivering now, Junhui puts his arms around himself, rubbing over the exposed skin to warm up and wipe off the goosebumps.

Irritated, Wonwoo pinches the bridge of his nose. “No matter how special you think it is, it’s not worth your health. Nothing is more important than that. Not even your precious idol. If you get sick, is he going to care?”

Ticked off, Junhui glares up at him. “You think I went through all this trouble just because it’s a rare and limited edition doll of LuckyOne?” he shouts back. “Obviously, I care about it because it’s LuckyOne. But it’s special because you gave it to me! You saw it and thought of me. You tried your hand at a game you don’t normally play, and you did your best to win it even though you don’t like LuckyOne. All because you wanted to give it to me. That’s why it’s special! It’s a gift from you, and it’s important to me!” Junhui’s chest heaves as he pants.

Silence hangs in between them.

Wonwoo’s anger evaporates, leaving behind only bewilderment as he stares at him with eyes wide and round. His mouth hangs open, words refusing to come out. Eventually, he snaps out of it when Junhui sneezes again. Gruffly, he shrugs off his denim jacket and shoves it into Junhui’s grasp.

“Put it on.”

“It’s fine. I’m going home—”

Yanking the jacket back, he drapes it over Junhui’s shoulders, then grabs his wrist, tugging. “Come with me.”

“Wha—Wait! Wonwoo!”

In order to avoid losing the jacket too, Junhui put his free arm through the sleeve and holds the other flap over his chest as he runs alongside Wonwoo.

They don’t have to go very far to reach their destination: the tiny village arcade. Wonwoo doesn’t stop until they get to the handful of crane machines. The prizes range from stuffed animals, to small toys, and action figures.

“None of the machines here carry k-pop merch,” Wonwoo says, guiding him toward the one with plushies. “But it doesn’t matter as long as it’s something I win for you, right?”

Stunned, Junhui alternates his gaze from the crane to Wonwoo, back and forth. He can’t even speak. All he’s capable of doing when Wonwoo looks back at him is nod hesitantly.

“Great.” Wonwoo cracks his knuckles and stretches his shoulders, popping the joints.

Then, under Junhui’s watch of pure awe and amazement, Wonwoo wins. The little plastic shell rolls through the rail and appears at the opening. Wonwoo bends to pick it up and hands it to him.

Accepting the gift with reverence, Junhui gingerly pops the lid and pulls out the black cat plushie. He holds it by the keychain ring, turning it to and fro, for both of them to get a good look at it.

“Do you like it?”

Junhui nods. “Thank you,” he whispers. He’s blushing despite his best efforts, but he grins, too incredibly happy to care. He pets the little head adoringly and giggles.

“What?”

Glancing up from the plushie to Wonwoo, he says, “It kinda looks like you.”

Wonwoo snorts, rolling his eyes. “Not again.”

Junhui laughs and nudges him. “I said I like it because it looks like you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond aside from a low grunt as he turns swiftly around. “It’s getting late. Let’s go.”

But as Junhui follows, he notices the tips of his ears having turned bright red.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

One day after school, Junhui is busy feeding the school cat—the very same one he saved that autumn morning and received a complimentary shower in the soccer field. He has just opened the can of tuna and set it down on the grass, that he overhears voices coming from behind the gym. The first thought that enters his mind is a fight. But he quickly shakes his head. He’s read too many school-themed mangas.

Classes are over, and club activities have already started. There’s nothing strange or suspicious about kids talking to each other after school.

For a while, Junhui contends himself with watching the kitty. He’s managed to pet him a couple times, but he’s still cautious. This particular furry friend is much more of a tsundere than Junhui first imagined. So he lets him come to him instead, leaving his hand open, palm up. He doesn’t have to wait for long to receive his reward. The kitty approaches and licks at his fingers first, before nudging his hand with his little head. Giggling, Junhui gladly obliges.

After a couple minutes, the kitty having had enough of pets, hops away. Junhui gathers the empty can and foam plate he used to pour out water, and throws everything into the trash. It’s as he searches for the nearest bathroom to wash his hands that he hears another set of voices, different this time.

He shouldn’t be listening to their conversation, but he’s also kind of stuck in place. If he comes out from behind the building now, then he’ll definitely ruin whatever the kids are doing.  So he decides to stay put. He recognizes the girl’s voice from the class next door.

“…liked you for a while now,” she says nervously.

Oh! It’s a love confession!

Well, now, he definitely can’t walk out. He’s not even the one confessing, and yet he can feel something akin to sympathy nervousness. Heart racing, he presses his closed fist to his mouth as he waits with bated breath for her crush to reply.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Wait. Junhui knows this voice, too.

Only too well.

His heart lurches.

A sharp pain slices across his chest, acute enough to make him wince. He has to bite down on his lip to prevent the sound from tumbling out and giving away his position. Why the heck is his body reacting like this? Is he sick?

Before he can come to a reasonable explanation, Wonwoo’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Unfortunately, I can’t return your feelings.”

Junhui breathes out, as though the weight of the world has lifted from his shoulders.

“Could you please tell me why?”

“There’s already someone I like.”

“I see.” The girl sounds devastated, yet at the same time resigned and understanding. “To tell you the truth, I did have an inkling that that was the case, but I still wanted to tell you anyway. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Thank you for liking me, even though I’m not worth it. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can cherish you the way you deserve.”

She laughs. “You’re not making it easy for me to get over you.”

Wonwoo laughs, too, and the two part ways.

Once they’re gone, Junhui finally relaxes. His muscles unclench and he slumps against the wall. What are these emotions rolling through him? Wonwoo likes someone? Who? Is it someone from class? He mentioned going into the city. Do they live there? Even so, then what? That has nothing to do with Junhui. Then why does he feel… What? What exactly is he feeling? Relieved that he rejected her? Hurt that he potentially likes someone else Junhui doesn’t even know about?

“Why are you making so many weird faces into space?”

Junhui startles and squeaks, bounding away from the wall to see Wonwoo staring at him, unimpressed. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Should the person eavesdropping really be that shocked at getting caught?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping!”

Wonwoo gives him another flat look.

“It just… happened. I was minding my own business, and before I could leave, the two of you were standing there. I think it’d have been way more awkward if I had come out. Nevertheless!” Junhui amends. “I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Wonwoo waves the issue away. “I was just kidding. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“But since we’re on the topic, you know, I’ve always admired people who could confess. Imagine the courage it takes to put yourself out there, hand over your heart on a platter, not knowing whether the other person will take care of it, or pulverize it.”

Wonwoo snickers. “Pulverize?”

“Crushing hearts is dated,” Junhui laughs. “But anyway. It takes even more courage to confess when you know the other person doesn’t reciprocate.” He sighs.

Wonwoo takes a seat on the grass and opens up a bag of chips. “Don’t you confess your love for LuckyOne on the regular, though?”

Junhui joins him. “That’s totally different!”

“How so? Because he says it back?” He offers him the chip, but Junhui declines politely.

“No. Well, I mean, yes, he does, but—agh!”

Wonwoo laughs, biting into a chip.

“LuckyOne is an idol. Of course he loves his fans.”

“So you’re saying he’s a fake.” Wonwoo slurps at his juice.

Junhui shakes his head vehemently. “No! Absolutely not!”

Reaching over, Wonwoo puts a hand on the crown of his head. “Stop before you break your neck.”

Junhui pouts, but stops nonetheless. “I’m saying that it’s different because LuckyOne is loved by thousands and thousands of people. He’s not just mine alone. And that’s totally okay! So when I say I love him, I don’t expect anything. He loves all of his fans equally. There’s no risk of rejection even if my love will never be requited. But when someone in your everyday life confesses, then it’s real. The possibility is there. It could happen, but…” Frustrated, Junhui presses his hands over his face and groans. “It’s so hard to explain into words.”

“I get it.” Wonwoo balls up his trash. “It’s a fantasy versus reality scenario.”

“Exactly!” he cheers. “I’ll shout out my love for him forever with no fear.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“What?” Junhui looks over at him. “If you mutter into your straw, I can’t understand you.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Wonwoo shrugs. “You probably heard me slurping. Sorry.”

“Oh. Well, back to you and your peer. As painful as I’m sure it was for her, I’m glad her crush was you.”

Wonwoo stares at him like he’s sprouted two heads, brow arched, frowning.

“I don’t mean anything weird with that!” Junhui quickly elaborates. “Just that… You let her down really gently.”

“Oh, that.” He shrugs again. “It was the least I could as a decent human being. Besides, I was just telling the truth.”

At the confirmation, Junhui’s smile turns a little strained. “Oh, yeah. Who is it?”

“You’re curious?”

“Obviously!”

“She didn’t even ask me after her confession, but you are?”

“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Feigning to sulk, Junhui crosses his arms in front of his chest and harrumphs.

Wonwoo snorts. “Hard to believe such a brat is a future teacher.”

“I’m not a brat!”

“Right.”

“Come on!” Junhui shakes his arm obnoxiously. “Tell meeeee! You don’t have to say their name or anything specific, but at least tell me what they’re like. Are they pretty?”

“Obviously! Do you think any sane person is going to admit to liking someone ugly? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Junhui bursts into laughter. “Okay, okay, that was silly. Then describe them.”

Standing up to go throw away his trash, he returns and says, “An oblivious airhead with a terrible memory.”

“That’s not very nice,” Junhui scowls. “Don’t you have any good qualities to share aside from pretty?”

Sighing, Wonwoo leans back and rests his weight on his palms. He stares at Junhui, head tilted. “Cute. Unique charm. Incredibly kind and sweet.”

“Aww. See!”

Again, a sense of unease swirls inside of him. As a teacher and a friend, Junhui should feel happy for Wonwoo. But he just… can’t. This is so strange.

“They’re pretty good at teaching me stuff, too.”

Heart lurching, Junhui turns to look swiftly at him. “What do—”

At that moment, his phone pings, effectively breaking the flow of the conversation. Wonwoo side-eyes the device, but Junhui doesn’t notice as he excuses himself and checks the notification. Only to squeal.

Wonwoo sits up, leaning over him to check the screen, too. “Seriously?”

“It’s important!” Junhui retorts, quickly setting up an addition reminder for tonight. “We were all so scared that we wouldn’t be getting any additional concert dates, but they came through!” Junhui wiggles in place, giddy and overjoyed. The ticket sales will start tonight, and the concert will be held in early spring. “Hey, want to come watch them with me?”

“What?”

Now that the idea has slipped into his mind, he doesn’t want to let go. “Come on! It’ll be so fun! I promise! I’ll pay for your ticket.”

Sensing Junhui slipping into his crazed fanboy mode, Wonwoo cautiously scoots back to his original spot. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But you have to see how incredible they are!”

“I’ve already watched all the videos you showed me. And I never said they weren’t good artists.”

“But it’ll be so much better live!”

Wonwoo leans back in and flicks his forehead.

“Ouch!” Pouting, Junhui rubs at the sore spot. “Why’d you flick me?”

“For a teacher, you have a horrible memory. That concert is during exam season. I have to study.”

“The concert is the Saturday after the last exam.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be grading out tests?”

“Only a portion is free-answer. The rest will all be Scantrons anyway. Grading will not take me ages. Come on! I’ll even treat you to dinner afterward. Or lunch beforehand, if you prefer.”

“Ah… How tempting.” Junhui can feel the sarcasm hanging from his words, and he pouts. “But I have to regretfully decline. I already have plans.”

“You do?”

“I’ll be sleeping like the dead the whole weekend.”

Junhui sighs, all his excitement melting away. “Okay…”

Wonwoo ruffles his hair, smile gentle. “Will they have anything going on during the summer?”

He perks up instantly. “You’ll join me?”

“How is my conscience going handle those puss in boots kitten eyes?”

“I resent that! But whatever! If it gets me a victory, then I won’t complain.”

Wonwoo laughs. “You’re so easy.”

“Remember! You promised!”

“Yes, yes.”

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

Per tradition, toward the end of winter, the whole school prepares for Career Week, meant to promote lesser known occupations and careers. Junhui heard from the teachers that it’s helped a great number of students in the past find paths they would have never considered before, simply because they either had no resources, or had no guidance. Which makes sense, Junhui considered, for such a small village. Most kids would normally follow in the footsteps of their parents and take over the farm or business, one day. But what about those who want to expand their horizons, so to speak?

That’s where Career Week comes in.

Part of it is set up by each class, groups and individuals researching then presenting their results in the school gym. Most of the large presentations and lectures will be held by professionals, though. Principal Kang has already given each homeroom teacher a list of guests willing to come speak to the student body, along with their schedules so that all the children can attend whichever event they’re interested in.

For a few days now, Junhui has stayed after school to supervise his kids as they work on their posters. Half of the class is sprawled all over the floor with makers and paintbrushes. Earlier in the afternoon, they had pushed the tables against the walls to give themselves room on the floor, spreading out the cardboard and their art supplies.

Junhui has just found a good spot to doodle a cat holding a beaker, when he hears one of the girls sigh. He looks up to see what’s wrong, ready to spring into action in case his students need help. She sits back on her folded legs, mouth twisted to the side as she examines the letter cut-outs she’s been laying on the poster.

“Career week has me wondering if I’ll ever find a career I truly love.”

Mina, next to her, pauses after rinsing her paintbrush to say, “I thought you already decided to go to university.”

“I did, but I applied as undeclared.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Minjee chimes in. “That’s what my cousin did. He took all kinds of classes, and that really helped narrow down what he’s really passionate about.”

“Really?” Jihyun seems hopeful. “How long did it take him to figure it out?”

Minjee thinks about it. “I think during his 2nd year?”

“It all sounds so daunting…”

Junhui dusts himself off and walks over. This is his time to shine as a teacher. “Jihyun, it’s okay to be scared. It’s part of growing up.” He smiles encouragingly. “But it doesn’t mean that you have to do it on your own. Guidance counselors will always welcome you into their office. Plus, if you ever need help, I’ll be more than happy to offer whatever tips and advice I have, too.”

“Thanks, Mr. Wen.” Jihyun smiles sincerely.

“Sometimes, nothing gets decided during college, and that’s okay, too!” he adds. “Everyone is different. I’ve had peers who graduated with a good degree, but eventually entered into a completely different career path a short while later. You guys are still really young. Nothing is set in stone.”

“You always try to sound so old, Mr. Wen,” Soonjae snickers.

“I am old!” Junhui retorts, hands on his hips. The whole class laugh.

“Have you known what you wanted to do from early on?” Jungseok wonders, standing up to stretch out his back. He’s been laboring over cutting and gluing for so long.

Junhui considers it with a hand on his chin, looking to the ceiling. “Hm, yeah, somewhat.”

“You mean you never even considered becoming an idol?” Minjee asks, genuinely shocked.

At the word ‘idol’, Junhui reflexively glimpses toward the opposite side of the classroom, where Wonwoo sits at one of the computer stations. He doesn’t show any sign of paying attention to the current topic of conversation. He sits leisurely in front of the monitor, fingers moving quickly over the keyboard. He’s taken charge of typing up all the important texts and research for their posters. He’s already printed out a small stack and passed it off to his friends to cut and glue on the boards.

“With your looks and voice,” Minjee continues, “I thought it’d at least cross your mind. You’d be such a bright star!”

“Yeah!”

Junhui giggles, cheeks warming up at the praise, so innocent and sincere from his students. “Thank you for thinking so highly of my musical abilities,” he says behind his hand. “But I guess it wasn’t meant to be in this lifetime.”

“You could still go for it!”

Laughing, Junhui shakes his head. “I’ll pass. I really like what I’m doing now, and you guys are such good kids. I’m thankful you were my first class, ever.”

“Aww, Mr. Wen, you’re going to make us cry!”

Everyone laughs in good humor as they shuffle around, continuing to work diligently.

“But you never told us!” Hwanji exclaims, sticking on paper flowers as decorations. “How did you decide to become a teacher?”

“Oh. It’s nothing extraordinary,” he prefaces. “When I was in my first year of high school, I somehow ended up babysitting the kids in my neighborhood after school and on weekends. I enjoyed it, so it got me thinking that I’d like to work with children in the future.”

“It’s the opposite for me,” Jungseok mutters. “I’m stuck babysitting my baby brothers all the time, and it’s made me want to run away from anyone under 6 years old.”

Junhui bursts into laughter. “I don’t blame you. Small children are a whole different matter. The kids I looked after were a little older, so we got along pretty well. Among them was a… sixth grader?” He tries to recall. “He always had homework to do. While the others played, he and I would sit at my coffee table and work quietly together. One day, I noticed that he was struggling, so I asked if he needed help. He looked a little embarrassed telling me he hadn’t fully understood the lesson because his regular teacher was home sick, and the substitute just told them to read the textbook.”

“Awww, poor kiddo!”

“I hate when teachers do that.”

“Me, too!”

“Mr. Wen, you gotta remember that when you become a full-fledged teacher.”

Laughing, Junhui gives them two thumbs-up. “Well, noted. To be honest, I feel the same, even back then. So for the remainder of the school year, I tutored him.”

“Wow, so you actually became a 6th grade teacher when you were only only a freshman!”

His students are so funny, Junhui thinks, as he laughs with them.

“Did he get top marks that year?”

“He did!” he answers proudly. Slowly, though, his smile subsides as the happy memory fades, to be replaced with contemplation. “I hope he’s doing well, wherever he is now.”

“Oh, you guys didn’t keep in touch?”

Junhui shakes his head. “He moved away at the start of the following school year.”

“And you didn’t exchange numbers? Wait, cellphones existed back then, right?”

“Ha ha ha,” Junhui pretends to flick Soonjae’s forehead from several desks away. “I’m old, but not that old.” He sighs regretfully. “I should have given him my number. Instead, I gave him a flower crown.” At the thought, he laughs at his past self.

“That’s so random, Mr. Wen,” the kids titer.

“Why did you give him a flower crown of all things?”

“It wasn’t random, though,” Junhui defends his decision. “I took a flower arranging class that year as an elective, and I’d bring home my projects. He always seemed rather interested in the flower crowns, so as a parting gift, I built him a tiny one with plastic flowers.

“That’s so cute!” the girls cooed.

“I wish I had a cute babysitting story,” Jungseok laments. “My brothers are all little monsters who bite my ankles when I tell them no.”

Junhui giggles and pats his shoulder in sympathy.

“It’s too bad you didn’t keep in contact with your first student,” Minjee comments. “If I was someone’s reason for becoming a teacher—or any other profession, for that matter—I’d definitely be calling it in.”

“I’m curious how he’s doing, too, but he was a really smart kid,” Junhui brags. “I’m sure he’s studying to be a rocket scientist now,” he kids (partially). “Or a brain surgeon!”

At that moment, Wonwoo stands up to retrieve the pages from the printer. He hands them off to Mina, then looks over at Junhui, face impassive. “If he was so smart, why did he need your help with his homework for an entire year?”

“Uh…” Stunned, Junhui blinks rapidly. “What?”

“You said the kid struggling was a one-time fluke due to a bad substitute teacher,” Wonwoo recalls, as if he hadn’t just heard the whole story from Junhui himself. “And you claim he was some sort of genius. If that’s the case, why did he keep asking for you to tutor him even after his teacher came back?”

“That’s… That’a a very good question,” Junhui says under his breath, having never thought about it.

The whole class bursts into laughter.

“Oh, my god, Mr. Wen!”

“Leave it to the class rep to see through the ruse!”

“You were so naive, even a sixth grader was able to trick you!”

“Mr. Wen, how did you even survive until now?”

Embarrassed, Junhui hides his pink cheeks behind his hand, trying to gather his wits. Once he does, he pretends he isn’t still blushing as he clears his throat and shoos at them. “Chit-chat time is over. Let’s finish up and go home before it gets dark.”

As the students snicker under their breaths, returning to their tasks, Junhui meets Wonwoo’s gaze. He gives him a mock-glare, but Wonwoo merely smirks.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

The notification appears on his phone as he leaves the school ground, and it takes all of Junhui’s self-restraint not to run like a crazy person back to his apartment.

LuckyOne is now live!

Once he’s made it up the staircase, he dashes for his door and crashes inside. His shoes fly off of his feet, his bag falls to the ground with a thud, and he throws his jacket on top of the pile. Within the same second, he digs out his phone, pressing on the app and turning the speaker to the maximum. Even with the mad dash home, he’s missed a few minutes of the Live, but perhaps as a small sign that the universe doesn’t hate him, there’s no video for him to lament over. LuckyOne is doing an audio Live.

Butterflies swirling in his stomach, Junhui can’t keep the dopey smile off of his face as he dives on top of his bed and hugs his pillow. The familiar and lovely deep timber flows through his phone and straight into his ears.

Suddenly, Wonwoo’s face pops into his head.

He and LuckyOne really do look alike. Not only that, even their voices are similar. Although Wonwoo is much more straight-forward and reserved. When he speaks, he is deliberate with his words, choosing them carefully. Concise and to the point. However, it’s because he’s so picky with what he says, and with whom he converses, that it makes every conversation he holds with Junhui so special and significant.

At the thought, his heart skips a beat.

His eyes flicker to the black cat plushie Wonwoo won for him at the arcade. Too afraid of losing it, Junhui brought it home and placed it on his nightstand, right next to his bed. Thinking back on that day, Junhui can honestly die in mortification over how he had acted. He blames the fatigue from searching all afternoon, blames the sheer frantic state of mind over losing a precious gift, for how he had acted in front of Wonwoo. Just like a spoiled child.

Really, between the two of them, who is the older one?

Why is Wonwoo so good at spoiling him?

Junhui laughs wryly. He reaches for the black kitty and sets it in front of him.

He wonders what Wonwoo thinks of him. Obviously, he doesn’t hate him. But—

“When you look at me, who do you really see? …I know I’m asking for the impossible, but there’s no way for you to look me and not see him, right?”

Is it really impossible, though?

With a start, Junhui jolts, staring down at his phone in panic.

Why is he thinking about Wonwoo when he’s supposed to be listening to LuckyOne?

Well, doesn’t that in itself answer the question? a little voice in the back of his mind asks.

Shaking his head in hopes of clearing the fog of confusion, Junhui focuses on the Live. He’ll have to listen to the replay later on. For now, LuckyOne is reading through comments. It’s not a surprise that most of them are requests for good luck wishes. Exam season is rolling around soon.

“How did I decide on a career? Was there ever anything else I wanted to do besides music? Hmm…”

Recalling his conversation with his students from last week, Junhui can’t help giggling. Idly, he wonders if one of them has become a fan of Diamond Days since the karaoke outing, and the question comes from them.

“I’ve always been in love with music, so it was rather inevitable that I’d take this path. Although,” LuckyOne laughs softly. “I never dared to think that it would be this amazing, so thank you for being our fans, Carats. But let’s see, if I didn’t choose music? Hm…”

Junhui scrolls through the comments, seeing a bunch of jobs and careers listed out, spanning a wide range: doctor, engineer, lawyer, teacher, researcher, etc…

“Oh, aerospace because I love the moon so much?” he chuckles. “Not a bad choice. Oh, now you guys are just listing out jobs that have to do with space. Astronaut? Rocket scientist?”

Junhui’s heart lurches. His breath hitches.

“Doctor? Maybe just a regular, general physician. My hands shake too much to be a brain surgeon.”

Question marks swim all over his head and around his bed. There’s no way… right? This is just a coincidence. LuckyOne simply read comments and responded to them. There’s no possible way it’s connected to that conversation during Career Week.

Junhui convinces himself to dismiss the notion, but even so, the oddity continues to nag at the back of his mind as he looks at LuckyOne’s poster on his wall and compares it to the black kitty plushie.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

Days, then weeks, all tumble into one as the weather begins to warm. Although Junhui is still technically in school himself, he’s forgotten how time flies during high school. Probably because once the ball gets rolling, the year is simply broken down into blocks, alternating between lessons and midterms, then finals. While students study, Junhui has to actually write their exams and grade them. All things considered, he’s not sure which side has got it worse.

Of course, it’s not all gloom and doom. Junhui is fortunate that the class he’s in charge of is composed of fun and genuinely good kids. Plus, he still gets to spend many of his afternoons with Wonwoo, even if they mainly do administrative tasks in silence. But it’s a comfortable kind of silence. Sometimes, if they finish early, Wonwoo takes him to local restaurants and bistros, where they get to relax a little more than if they were at school. Junhui discovers many new dishes that way, and he eats them all deliciously.

After that night of the blackout, Wonwoo has invited Junhui over to his place a few times to play video games. Junhui made him swear to keep it a secret from the entire village until their last days on earth (he knows he’s being unfair as a teacher. He’s not supposed to spend that much time with one particular student outside of school hours, but he likes hanging out with Wonwoo too much. Besides, it’s not like they’re doing anything bad. Wonwoo is already top of his class. Junhui wouldn’t have room to smudge his grades even if he wanted to). Wonwoo found his request overly dramatic, but pinky swore, regardless. Just like that first time, Junhui repaid the favor for having him over by cooking him either lunch or dinner that day.

It was during one of their gaming weekends, that Junhui, for the first time since becoming a Carat, missed a Diamond Days event. His phone had chimed and notified him of the new video dropping, of course, but Junhui had been too busy to see it. He had just won the final round of their game, and he’d impulsively turned to his side to back-hug Wonwoo, laughing into his back in excitement.

Oddly, when he went home and noticed the notification, he hadn’t felt as upset as he would have normally. He still watched the video and enjoyed every second of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret spending the whole day with Wonwoo instead of gushing over the video with his fellow Carats on social media.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

“Cheer up, you guys!” Junhui says at the front of the class, putting as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. “We practiced and practiced. You know the materials. Now it’s just a matter of putting everything onto paper.”

“Mr. Wen…” Soonjae whines, cheek pressed to the surface of his desk. “How can you sound so cheery about exams?”

“Because I know you guys are going to do amazing!”

He doesn’t receive the notes of confidence as he has hoped. The class groans.

He sighs, deflating a little. The only one who doesn’t seem to be particularly affected is Wonwoo. Unruffled and relaxed, sitting by the window, he jots little notes and whatnot into his notebook, occasionally staring off at the trees and birds.

“Tell you what.” Junhui tries again. “If the class average in all subjects is above 75%, I’ll cook for you a whole feast.”

“Really?”

One by one, heads pop up. A little bit of energy starts to diffuse into limp limbs and tired faces.

“Really!” he promises. “I can’t guarantee anything fancy, but it’ll be tasty!”

As if the thought of food has breathed life back into their bodies, the students begin to talk about their favorite dishes. Junhui quickly grabs a pen and jots down ideas.

“Just remember to hold back on the chili pepper,” Wonwoo calls out over the din of voices. “They’d probably die from the spiciness.”

“Oh, right!”

“How do you know that he likes spicy food?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I’ve seen his lunch. It’s all red.”

“Yikes!”

“Yes, please, Mr. Wen, go easy on the spices,” Hwanji puts his hands together.

Junhui giggles. “I’ll remember. No worries.”

The bell rings, then, and the students start to gather their things.

“Any last minute tips?”

“Go home, eat a good dinner, and go to sleep early,” he answers. “You’ve done all the necessary studying. There’s no point in cramming the night before, and end up sleep-deprived at the exam.”

“Okay…”

Gradually, everyone files out of the classroom while he packs up, too. He’ll swing by the teacher’s lounge and double-check that all the test packets are ready for tomorrow. He wants his students to have the best exam season, and in order to achieve that, he needs to put work into it, too.

Someone approaches his desk, and Junhui glances up in response. “Oh, Wonwoo. What’s up? You don’t need to stay behind today. Go home and rest up, too.”

Pondering something, Wonwoo tilts his head to the side. “Your condition for the class is an average above 75%.”

“Right.”

“We both know I’ll score higher.”

Junhui nods slowly, unsure where he’s going with this train of thought. “Yes…”

Meeting his gaze, Wonwoo flashes a tiny, but devious little smirk. “If I score the highest across all three classes, do I get anything special?”

Junhui lets out a small laugh. “Like what?”

The smirk widens as he heads toward the door. “I’ll let you know.”

“Hey!” Junhui calls after him. “That’s not fair!”

Wonwoo turns around at the door. “I never said I was.”

Heart racing, Junhui stands frozen in place, completely mute and unable to retort.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

The day finally comes. It’s the Saturday after the round of exams—Concert Day.

Yesterday, Junhui had fought his way to the Scantron machine after school. His kids had worked so hard, he needed to know how they did. Sure, he still had to go through and read their short answers and essays tomorrow, but if their multiple-choice portions make it over 75%, then Junhui will still have an excuse to cook for them and cheer them up for their efforts.

Once the stack had been scored, Junhui hurried home with his heavy bags, filled with test packets and answer sheets. He ate a quick dinner, then got to work adding up the scores. With pride and joy, he grinned at the number staring up at him from his calculator. He wrote into his grade book and added a doodling of a happy cat.

Class average: 80.36%

He’ll cook them a feast fit for kings next week for sure.

A yawn took over him, and he glanced at the clock. He looked back at the stack. Wonwoo’s name sat at the top. Recalling his request, Junhui’s stomach flip-flopped. Call him a coward, but he wasn’t ready to confront reality yet. He’ll find out Wonwoo’s scores tomorrow.

Back to the present, Junhui is a bundle of nerves. He checks, then double-checks, that he has his wallet, along with his ticket voucher. If he forgets either item and can’t go inside the venue, he’s pretty sure he’ll burst into tears right in the open. He shakes his head at the notion. Nope. Can’t let that happen. Gotta check a third time.

Next, his LuckyOne banner and lightstick. Batteries are full. Everything goes into his bag. What else?

In the middle of his inspection, his phone chimes.

wonwoo 🐈⬛

are you leaving for the city soon?

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

yes

i thought you were going to sleep like a log this entire weekend

wonwoo 🐈⬛

i am.

i just woke up for food.

i’ll go back to sleep afterward.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

🤣

happy hibernation!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

thanks.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

wonwoo 🐈⬛

i still can’t believe you have that giant poster in your room.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

is that really all you have to say???

😣

wonwoo 🐈⬛

you look cute.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

although i don’t think you mean it

thanks! 😌

wonwoo 🐈⬛

i did mean it.

have fun!

i hope you don’t lose your voice on monday.

wouldn’t want any weird rumors to circulate around school.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

😳

wonwoo!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

lol.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

im reconsidering bringing you back a souvenir

wonwoo 🐈⬛

i’m heartbroken.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

heyyyyyyy

😠

wonwoo 🐈⬛

lol.

you’re so easy.

don’t follow any strangers up there in the big city.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

im not a little kid!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

that still shocks me.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

🙄

i had no idea post-exam wonwoo could be so sarcastic

grumpy grump!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

mhm.

aren’t you glad i declined your invite?

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

not really

diamond days would have definitely cheered you up!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

i highly doubt it.

are you really going to be ok on your own?

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

aww

there’s the caring and gentle wonwoo i know~ 🥰

yeah i’ll be fine

im originally from the city after all! 😆

wonwoo 🐈⬛

ok.

be careful.

let me know when you get to the venue.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

aren’t you going to be asleep? lol

wonwoo 🐈⬛

i’ll wake up just for you.

you’ll always be my one exception to every rule.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

😳

don’t flirt with your teachers!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

i don’t.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

liar

wonwoo 🐈⬛

you’re not a teacher yet.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

WONWOO!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

lol.

you’re so fun to tease.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

hmph!

ok i gotta go catch the bus soon

bye!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

👋

😴

Junhui looks at the picture of Wonwoo snuggled up under his blanket, pretending to sleep, and bursts into giggles.

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

don’t sleep on the couch!

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

jun   ฅ^.  ̫ .^ฅ

i made it!

wonwoo 🐈⬛

great.

enjoy the show!

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

This isn’t Junhui’s first concert, neither is it his first time seeing Diamond Days live. But every time feels like the first. The wonder, the excitement, the sheer joy. It’s impossible to put into words. Throughout the entire show, he alternates between speechlessness and out of control screaming. To the outside world, they must appear to be unhinged, but he draws comfort in knowing he’s among his kin here. In fact, the people around him are even more hyped up than he is. Idly, he hopes they brought cough drops with them for the ride home, otherwise, they really won’t have their voices at all.

At the thought, he recalls Wonwoo’s text, and he smiles to himself.

A new set begins. The lights flash. Cheers resound through the concert hall.

The boys appear from the raised platform. Another fan favorite. Every single person sings along, some better than others. But there is no contest. They all love the band and its music. A thousand hearts beating as one.

Junhui has a floor ticket. Which means that when the band walks around, they’re almost within reach. The screams are deafening. And they only get louder when LuckyOne comes to their side of the stage. Something very strange occurs to Junhui, then. It’s not like he hasn’t been aware of it, far from it.

And yet when LuckyOne comes into view, mere feet away from him, singing one Junhui’s favorite songs, all he can think about is Wonwoo. He said he’ll be sleeping all day, and that he only woke up for food. What food is he eating? Cup ramen? If he’s counting on sleeping, there’s little chance that he’ll make the effort to go down to the store for even a pre-made food box, much less go to eat one of their favorite places. Cup noodles are fine to consume once in a while, and Wonwoo is still young, so he should be fine. But it still brings Junhui unease. Maybe he should have brought him something on his way to the bus stop. He’d have left it at the door and texted him to come get it. He’ll text him after the concert and try to persuade him to eat real food. Then Junhui can cook him something yummy once he’s home. What should he cook? Hotpot? The weather is a little warm for that. Maybe fried noodles?

His train of thought comes to an abrupt stop when he notices that a shadow has fallen on him. Only now does he register the sudden peak in shrieking around him. Junhui snaps out of his reverie and looks up to see LuckyOne right in front of him.

His heart stutters.

Not because he’s face to face with a famous idol.

No. It’s because he’s struck with how much LuckyOne looks like Wonwoo.

His heart only gallops ever faster when he makes eye contact with Junhui. Not missing a single beat in the song or tripping over his word, he stares right at him. A dark brow arches, clearly seen since his hair is slicked back and exposes his high forehead. That expression, Junhui is quiet familiar with it.

It’s the same expression Wonwoo shoots him whenever Junhui used to gush about LuckyOne. It’s a mix of being unimpressed yet perplexed at Junhui’s fervor.

Why is LuckyOne looking at him like that? Can he read minds? Does he know Junhui’s been thinking about Wonwoo?

The handful of seconds pass. LuckyOne walks away.

Junhui wants to shake himself. Has he gone insane? What is he even thinking? Being in Wonwoo’s presence nearly everyday for almost a year, and now meeting LuckyOne on stage again has completely scrambled his brain. He needs to get a grip.

Easier said than done.

Now he feels like a complete nut.

Is he going crazy or has LuckyOne been circling this side of the stage more often than in previous concerts? Usually, all of the members are fair in fanservice, and they stroll around the stage equally. Is it just because Junhui is more conscious of the man today, that it’s getting to his head? Is that why he’s noticing that they make eye contact way more than what’s considered normal? He really wishes Wonwoo was with him so he can ask him if he’s gone crazy.

Before he’s even fully conscious of it, they’re already reaching the encore set. Where has the time gone? Junhui can’t even tell whether it flew away because he’s been having fun or if he’s been spacing out. Probably both.

The members come out, running around, singing and playing with each other like at every encore stage. Except that this time, they each carry a basket. Curiosity grips the audience, as everyone continues to sing along, but also follows the boys around with their eyes, needing to know what the baskets contain. The cameras pan over the boys, projecting them over on the large screen in the middle of the stage.

S.Coups starts it off, moving toward the crowd and handing out candy and small toys, no doubt new merch.

If the screams were loud before, now they’re reaching new supersonic heights. Everyone begins to push and shove, forcing the security guards walking through the aisles to intervene before someone gets hurt. It also helps that Diamond Days themselves threaten to stop if everyone gets too rowdy.

Junhui sighs in relief. He’s been pushed to the barricade, nearly squeezed into a pancake by the people behind him. The reprieve lasts for three songs, until Mingyu veers toward their section, and the crowd goes feral again. Perhaps knowing, Mingyu makes quick work of throwing out the small plushie into random areas, then flees toward where Vernon is rapping his heart out.

So distracted, Junhui doesn’t notice that another member has made his way toward them. More specifically, toward him.

Heart in his throat, doe eyes round and large, Junhui stares up in stunned silence as LuckyOne takes a knee to decrease the distance between them. The people around and behind Junhui go absolute bonkers, shrieking and crying, banners waving, calling his name. All Junhui can do is grip his lightstick for something to ground himself as he gawks, jaw hanging open.

LuckyOne reaches into his basket and hands out candy to the crowd, appeasing the feverish frenzy a few degrees. Then he turns to Junhui, a very familiar smirk dancing on his lips. He pulls out a small plushie—no, not just a plushie. A super rare, limited-edition LuckyOne doll.

“Don’t lose it this time,” he mouths.

Junhui is having an out of body experience. He reaches for the doll with trembling fingers, but other than that, he stands frozen like a statue. He clutches the doll. It’s soft and squishy. It’s real. He pinches his palm, and yelps. Okay, it hurts. It’s not a dream.

On stage, all four members run back to the main stage and hold hands for their final bow. The music continues to play, although at a lowered volume, as the lights dim, then shine back on for people to see their way out. As the audience slowly departs, Junhui is ready to pass out. The truth seeps into his awareness as he stares vacantly at the falling confetti.

Wonwoo is…

LuckyOne is…

He clings to the barricade and curls into himself, allowing for people to walk past him toward the aisle. He needs a moment to compose himself. If he walks now, he’s definitely going to crumble and knock himself out. He takes in steadying breaths and looks down at the little doll. The chain is snapped, explaining how it fell off of Junhui’s bag that day. A confirmation that it’s the same doll. The one Wonwoo—

Before the thought finishes, Junhui notices something around its neck that wasn’t there before. Shaky fingertips brush over the plastic flowers, each one carefully woven into a thin metallic wire. A tiny flower crown, only big enough to fit around a child’s wrist.

Junhui has a second heart attack within the span of half an hour.

“Excuse me. Wen Junhui?”

He practically jumps out of his skin. In a panic, he looks around, only to notice the empty concert hall. Staffers and techs mill about, along with members of the custodial crew rolling out their cleaning carts. He’s the only fan who hasn’t left.

His eyes dart to the badge hanging around the young man standing before him. Oh, god. How does this staff member know his name? Is he in trouble?

“U-Uh, y-yes,” he answers hesitantly.

“Will you please follow me?” Politely, he steps to the side and waits for Junhui to unmoor himself from the barricade.

On the outside, Junhui holds himself together. But in his head, he’s running around like a headless chicken. Is he getting arrested for snapping a few pictures earlier on during the concert? Are they going to sift through his phone and force him to delete the short clips of the new song? Is he going to prison?

The staff member guides him backstage, passing by many—too many—people. No one seems to find his presence questionable. Are they just pretending not to see him, so that if he disappears mysteriously after tonight, they can tell the police they know nothing about it? He gulps, stomach churning.

They stop in front of a door. Junhui barely has time to notice that there’s some kind of sign posted on it, that his guide knocks politely and opens the door. “Go ahead,” the young man says gently, inclining his head toward the open doorway.

Junhui nods back at him and ventures beyond the threshold with trepidation. It’s just a normal room. A few couches litter the space, accompanied by tables covered in tray of catered food and many different kinds of drinks. There are racks of clothes, and lots of shoes. If this is an interrogation room, it’s not at all how they show it on tv.

“Thanks, Kyungmin.”

Junhui startles, not realizing that someone else was in the room. He spins around to see LuckyOne—Wait, no. Wonwoo? Whoever he is, the guy walks out from a room hidden behind a wall, toweling off his damp hair. He waves at the young staff member, Kyungmin, and closes the door. When he turns to look at Junhui, he’s ready to explode with laughter. Although, Junhui has to give him credit, he tries really hard to hold it in.

He looks so different, and yet… The makeup sharpens his striking features, accentuating and highlighting his handsomeness. His eyes, usually already piercing, are so dark now. His aura is completely different from when he’s at school with Junhui. A complete opposite. Hot and cold.

But Junhui knows it’s him in the way he softens his expression. His smirk turns into a gentle smile. The warmth in his eyes, the fondness as he gazes at him…

It’s the final push that snaps Junhui out of his daze.

He rushes over, holding up the doll in the air. His speech is a mile a second. “You’re him! And he’s you! It’s been you this entire time! And yet you—How could you keep such a huge secret from me?! No, I mean, I guess it makes sense to keep it a secret from a fan, but—Oh, my god, and I invited you to your own concert! Wait, but you sent me a picture of you sleeping at home. How’d you get here so—No, that’s not important. This doll—This flower bracelet. What even—”

“You made it.”

“I know I made it!” Junhui cries out, stomping in place. “But I made it for—Out of everything I listed out, you decide to talk about the flower bracelet first?”

“Shh, calm down,” Wonwoo urges gently, cupping Junhui’s shoulders in his palms. He leads him toward a chair. “Deep breath, kitten. Come on, breathe with me.”

Junhui is such a sucker.

Out of his control, he starts following Wonwoo’s lead and breathes deeply, inhaling and exhaling.

“Good.” Wonwoo grins.

Junhui’s heart skips a beat. The traitor.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to go get some ice, and you’re blocking the—”

At the oddly familiar, deep voice, Junhui furrows his brows and turns over his shoulder. He screams, bounding out the chair. His head whips back and forth as he points. “There’s two of you?!” he shouts, eyes wide as he shifts his focus from Wonwoo to Wonwoo’s clone. They have to be clones. Identical in every aspect, even the lock of black hair falling over their eye and the little mole there. Plus, they’re wearing the same outfit. “And you’re both LuckyOne?!”

Wonwoo cuts his eyes at his clone, clearly not happy at his appearance. The clone merely grins and shrugs, pointing at his foot. Junhui also follows the gesture to see that he’s only wearing one shoe. His right foot is wrapped in gauze. It doesn’t look red or swollen, so Junhui assumes it’s nothing too serious.

“Not… exactly,” Wonwoo answers his question with sigh. “He’s LuckyOne,” he throws a thumb toward the other Wonwoo. “I’m just his substitute when he gets into dumb accidents.”

“Oh, don’t say it like that,” the clone reproaches. “Junhui won’t know it’s a self-deprecating joke and believe you at word value.”

Junhui blinks at him.

Noticing the silence, he turns to him to see the surprise plainly on his face. “What? It’s not like we’ve never met.”

“I’ve been to only three fansigns, but you still remember my name?” he asks in awe.

Next to him, Wonwoo mutters, “Only three. Good lord.”

LuckyOne—Wonwoo’s twin? They have to be twins, Junhui decides. It’s much more believable than a clone—laughs. “Well, there’s that, too, but I meant that we’ve met long before LuckyOne even debuted.”

Dumbfounded, Junhui stares. He looks from him to Wonwoo, then back to him to say, “I’m really sorry, but I think I would recall seeing Wonwoo’s face before.”

The twins crack up, although Wonwoo is more subtle about it.

“Ouch!” LuckyOne feigns heartbreak. “It’s pretty ironic, isn’t it?” He glances at Wonwoo. “Back in the day, you used to call us both Jiwon. But now Wonwoo’s your favorite.”

Barely has Junhui had the time to blush over the teasing remark that realization crashes into him. “Oh, my god!” He holds out the doll and points to the flower bracelet. “That’s why you have this! Jiwon… I gave this to Jiwon as a parting gift when he moved away. Hold on, so you’ve been twins this entire time?!”

Yes, Junhui realizes he sounds like an absolute, raving lunatic. But can anyone blame him? This is a lot to take in all at once.

“Oh, my god,” he gasps, gripping onto Wonwoo’s arm. “No wonder why sometimes you’d look like you had no idea what I was talking about when I babysat you. I was talking to the wrong twin!” Covering his face with his hands and squishing the doll in his grasps, he whisper screams.

The twins, very nicely, let him freak out in peace.

Now that he thinks back, he had no reason to believe there was ever more than one Jiwon. He only ever saw one boy, even when he ran into him and their parents at the store or around the neighborhood. There’s only ever been one kid with them. And they always called him—them—by the nickname Won.

Once he’s gathered his composure, somewhat, he asks, “Why didn’t you guys ever say anything? Correct me?”

Jiwon shrugs. “You called me by the right name, so I never saw the need to.”

Both of them look to Wonwoo, but the later averts his gaze.

“Wonwoo?” Junhui calls softly, tugging on his shirt.

“Right, Wonwoo.” Jiwon smirks. “Why don’t you tell Junhui all about it?”

Swiftly, Wonwoo glares him. “Weren’t you on your way to get ice?”

“All right. All right.” Giving up, Jiwon puts up both hands. “The third wheel will leave you two alone. Where’s my crutch?”

Not replying in words, Wonwoo goes to grab the crutch and hand it to his brother. The twins share a quick look, silently communicating. Then Jiwon exits and closes the door quietly behind him.

Sighing tiredly, Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck and walks to the couch. He pats the seat next to him. Junhui hurries over. He waits a few seconds, but Wonwoo seems to have a hard time finding the words to start. So Junhui helps.

“How come I never saw both you at once?” he wonders. “I know that Jiwon is an idol now, so it makes sense. But even back then. You guys don’t look like you don’t get along, so it can’t be the reason.”

Wonwoo smiles faintly. “Ever since he could think, Jiwon has wanted to go into music and dance, so our parents enrolled him in all sorts of clubs and after school classes. The kid you saw around the neighborhood was me, more times than not.”

A little confused, Junhui wonders, “If Jiwon’s always been busy, why did I meet him instead of you?”

Letting out a wry laugh, Wonwoo shakes his head as he shifts. He spreads his legs and rests his elbows on them, lacing his fingers together. “I used to wonder how things would have turned out if we had met instead. I wondered if you’d remember my name and make the connection that day at school. Would you still look at LuckyOne with that lovesick expression.”

“Hey…” Junhui pouts. “I don’t look at him with a lovesick expression.”

Wonwoo cocks a brow and gives him a meaningful look. “Did you forget that I saw you earlier?”

Junhui reddens. It’s his turn to avert his gaze. He squirms as he mumbles, “Only because I was thinking about you.”

Stunned, Wonwoo’s eyes round out. “What?”

“Never mind that!” Junhui whines, hiding behind his hands again. “You still haven’t answered my questions.”

Wonwoo looks like he wants to argue, and maybe it’s the kitten eyes, but he gives in. Junhui cheers in his head. “Jiwon had been at dance lessons for a couple weeks at that point, and he really enjoyed it. He kept trying to talk me into joining, too, but I wasn’t all that interested. Then he finally admitted that there was this one move that he couldn’t master, and he wanted me to check it out to see if I could decode the ‘secret’, as he called it.” He rolled his eyes, chuckling at their silly childhood.

“So then… you switched with him for a day?”

Wonwoo nods. “And it just so happens that it was the day you found him alone in the playground and started talking to him. As for why I never told you when we switched back, well…” He takes in a deep breath, and Junhui can tell that this is it. He holds his breath in anticipation. “You… It was clear that you liked Jiwon by how you acted toward me, thinking I was him. I was afraid… that you’d treat me differently once you learned the truth and realized that we weren’t the same person.”

Junhui gapes at him like a fish out of water. Now he understands why Wonwoo had been so upset every time Junhui brought up LuckyOne. It’s not that he hates his brother. Far from it. It was his love for Jiwon that caused Wonwoo to switch places with him. Unfortunately, that also led to his brother meeting Junhui. It was Jiwon—and only Jiwon—in Junhui’s memories. Even the little parting gift that Junhui made was for Jiwon. Then, years later, Junhui becomes a rabid fan of LuckyOne—Jiwon, again. Except that LuckyOne is Wonwoo, too. Just like how the little Jiwon from their past had been Wonwoo, too.

Junhui just had no idea.

His heart cracks as he tries to hold back the tears prickling his eyes. “Wonwoo,” he calls wetly. “I am so sorry, I—”

Alarmed, Wonwoo quickly shushes him. “Jun—Hey, it’s okay. Shh, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to—Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Breathe, kitten. Breathe.” He cups his face with one hand, thumb stroking over his cheek as he pulls him into a hug.

Junhui leans his forehead against Wonwoo’s shoulder and tries to do as he asks, breathing. He closes his eyes. It’s amazing how quickly calm washes over him. The warmth, the steady heartbeat. The scent of soap and Wonwoo himself.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, fingers running scratching the back of Junhui’s head.

“I’m so lame,” Junhui whines, laughing wetly as he sits back and rubs his eyes with closed fists. “My emotions have been all over the place today.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “It’s okay.”

The door clicks and swings open.

Junhui freezes upon seeing three boys. They, too, freeze when they spot him and Wonwoo sitting together so closely on the couch. Off-stage, Diamond Days look so much younger. If this were any other situation, Junhui would have laughed at the sheer look of panic and deer-in-headlight expression on S.Coups’ face.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” he says. “But did we interrupt a make-out session?”

Junhui jumps off of the couch as if burned. “No! Oh, my god, I am so sorry!” He keeps bowing. “I should be the one apologizing for intruding.”

“You’re not intruding,” Wonwoo corrects. “You were invited.”

“Wonwoo!”

“What?”

Junhui’s cheeks are still as red as S.Coups’ hair. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. Um, I’m…” What is he supposed to introduce himself as? Discretely, he looks over to Wonwoo for help.

“Junhui’s an old friend.”

“Oh!” S.Coups seems puzzled, but smiles. “Nice to meet you. Sorry about the assumption,” he chuckles. “It’s just that Wonwoo has never brought anyone backstage besides for family, so I figured you must have been special.”

He doesn’t know how to respond aside from blushing again.

“Oh, wow, look at all the LuckyOne gear!” Vernon tells Mingyu as they examine Junhui’s stuff thrown all over one of the tables. He’s about to rush over and apologize for the mess, but Vernon looks up and gives him an impressed thumbs-up.

“Carats are so creative!” Mingyu comments sincerely, picking up the banner and posters. “Look! Look! He even has a black cat inside the caratbong!” He shows Vernon.

Vernon scratches his hair. “But isn’t LuckyOne’s animal a fox?”

Wonwoo turns to look at him.

Junhui feels himself burning. He’s about to prove that spontaneous human combustion is possible.

“Guys, stop messing with other people’s stuff,” S.Coups scolds.

“But Junhui’s friends with Wonwoo, which means he’s our friend, too!”

“What kind of conclusion is that?” S.Coups exclaims.

“It’s the same principle we use when we use your stuff.”

S.Coups cries out in dismay.

Wonwoo merely rolls his eyes, while Vernon snickers and goes over to the snack and food table.

Now that Junhui has had some time to collect his soul back into his body, he finally realizes the situation he’s in. He’s in Diamond Days’ dressing room. With the members. They’re breathing the same air, occupying the same space. He’s gripping his phone to the point that his knuckles turn white. He’s vibrating, too, he knows. At a loss, he turns to Wonwoo. He’s not sure what he’s asking for: help with the band or request for Wonwoo to knock him out and save him from further embarrassing himself.

Wonwoo laughs. “Go ahead. Ask for a picture. They won’t refuse.”

“Yeah! Come on!” Mingyu waves him over.

“And here I thought you only liked LuckyOne,” S.Coups teases. “Hansol, stop eating for a second.”

The youngest looks up, noodle still dangling from his mouth, cheeks full. He gives them a thumbs-up and continues to chew.

Junhui giggles at the scene. He walks toward them, but when he senses that Wonwoo isn’t following, he looks over his shoulder. “Come on!”

Wonwoo hesitates. “You need someone to take the picture—”

Junhui clicks his tongue and walks back, tugging on his wrist. “We can take a selca together.”

“Yeah!” Mingyu agrees. “I can take it. My arm’s long enough.”

As they’re arranging themselves, the dressing room opens again. “Guys, there’s a been a change in schedule for next week.” A young man with blond hair and pretty face walks in. As soon as he sees Junhui, his eyes light up.

“Oh! It’s you!” He points. “Wonwoo’s adorable boyfriend!”

At the same time, Junhui exclaims, “You’re Wonwoo’s cousin Jeonghan!”

Behind him, Wonwoo groans.

“Wait, boyfriend?” S.Coups questions. Immediately, he spins toward Wonwoo. “Why did you say he was just a friend?”

“Wonwoo’s been very naughty,” Jeonghan continues in the same teasing tone. “We’ve been so busy, I didn’t even get the chance to tell you, Cheolie.”

Junhui’s mouth hangs open. Jeonghan’s boyfriend is Diamond Days’ leader. Now that he knows context, he recalls hearing him and Wonwoo talking about Jiwon. He tugs on Wonwoo’s shirt. “The appointment you had to go to was for Diamond Days?”

Wonwoo nods. “Yeah, promo shoots.”

S.Coups’ scandalized voice cuts through. “Wonwoo! You seduced your teacher?!”

Junhui squeals and slaps his hands over his face.

“Oh, snap!” Vernon whispers.

“Oooh~” Mingyu adds unhelpfully.

Wonwoo pinches the bridge of his nose. “Does a day ever go by where you don’t cause havoc for you own enjoyment?”

“No.”

“Thought so.”

“Hold up,” S.Coups insists, annoyed. “Why do you keep messing with me?”

Jeonghan snickers and pinches his cheeks. “To de-stress you.”

“‘Distress’ is more like it,” Wonwoo mutters.

“Oh, were you guys about to take a picture?” Jeonghan finally notices. “I’ll take it for you!” He holds out his hand toward Junhui’s phone.

“A-are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Oh, Junnie, you’re so cute.” He ruffles his hair. “Yes, I’m sure. Come on.”

Still unsure, he asks Wonwoo silently. When he latter nods, Junhui hands off his phone.

“All right. Squeeze together. Say cheese!” Jeonghan snaps several shots before giving it back.

“Thank you so much!” Junhui exclaims.

The door opens yet again, this time the footsteps are followed by a metallic clicking sound. Jiwon hobbles in and frowns. “How heartless of you to take a group photo without me.”

“I’m so sorry!” Junhui is quick to step forward. “Uh, can we take another one?”

Jiwon grins. “Of just you and me? Certainly!”

Wonwoo slides out in front of Junhui, effectively blocking his brother. “That won’t be necessary,” he says evenly. “I’ll just photoshop you in later.”

Peeking behind Wonwoo, Junhui sees Jiwon side-eye him. “So stingy. You’re so bad at sharing.”

“I have to share my face with you. That’s plenty.”

The whole group laughs. Even Junhui can’t help tittering.

Jiwon harrumphs, but as soon as Wonwoo turns away, he meets Junhui’s gaze and smiles. Junhui does the same.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

“Sorry, but there’s no room for you two,” Jeonghan declares, blocking the car door.

They’re all in the underground parking garage. A huge, black SUV is waiting to drive Diamond Days home. Back in the dressing room, when Jeonghan heard that Junhui would be crashing at Soonyoung’s place for the night, he had offered to give him a lift. But now that they’re by the car, he seems to have second thoughts.

Although it’s unclear why he doesn’t want to take Wonwoo, either.

“Um, that’s okay,” Junhui says. “I had planned on taking a taxi, anyway—”

“That car can hold seven passengers,” Wonwoo points out. “We can all fit.”

“Mingyu is going to take whole backseat for himself.”

“I am?”

Jeonghan clicks his tongue.

“Oh! Yeah! I totally am!” Over-exaggerating, he stretches. “I need room. I’m two meters, after all.”

“Be a gentleman and take Junhui home,” Jiwon orders, winking.

Wonwoo, not amused, gives his friends and family a scathing look.

“Okay, kids. Let’s go. Bye, Junnie!” Jeonghan waves as he gets behind the wheel. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing lots of you from now on.”

Junhui laughs nervously as he waves.

“See ya, Jun!” Vernon, or Hansol as Junhui is now allowed to call him, rolls down his window and waves. “Let’s hang out some time again.”

“Sure!”

Seungcheol and Mingyu say goodbye, too. Jeonghan puts the car into reverse and backs out of the parking space. He waves one last time, then drives off.

Junhui and Wonwoo stand in silence for a moment, watching as the SUV merges into traffic. He hitches his bag, ready to address Wonwoo about potentially sharing a cab, but the young idol beats him to it.

“Are you tired?”

Considering for a second, Junhui shakes his head. “No, not really. With everything that happened, I’m actually pretty wired up,” he chuckles. “I don’t think the adrenaline has quite stopped pumping.”

They share a smile.

“Then do you want to take a walk with me?”

“Are you sure?” Junhui glances around. They’re still within the building, so the security is tight. No crazy fans. But there’s no guarantee if they step outside. Wonwoo has changed into his street clothes, and he’s put on his glasses, but that won’t be enough if a fan spots him.

“You know about the park around here, right?”

“Yeah.”

“If we cut through, then we’ll end up a couple blocks from the University. Your friend lives around there, doesn’t he?”

“I’m not worried about me!” Junhui tells him. “What if someone spots you?”

“It’s dark, and I’m wearing a hat.” To emphasize his point, he tugs the cap lower over his eyes. “Besides, the concert ended a while ago, and it’s not my first time in the city, either,” he jokes, recalling their texts from earlier this afternoon.

“Oh, yeah! That reminds me!” Junhui says as they start walking toward the exit. “Didn’t you text me that picture from home?”

“Oh, that was a picture of Jiwon,” he laughs at Junhui’s confounded expression.

“I guess that for once, he pretended to be you.”

Wonwoo laughs.

Tall buildings, illuminated by thousands of lights, shoot up the sky. With spring in full swing, the air is pleasant, a little on the cool side, but better than suffocatingly sweltering. Occasionally, a light breeze blows through the trees, causing the young leaves and sprouting flower buds to jiggle. Despite the late hour, shops are still open. A moderate amount of people frequent the streets, although looking closer, they all appear to be couples taking nightly strolls together.

Junhui risks a peek to see Wonwoo staring longingly at the moon. That’s right. LuckyOne really loves the moon. He wonders if that was drawn from Wonwoo’s or Jiwon’s preferences. As they head into the pretty park, he speaks up.

“I think I can tell you and Jiwon apart.” Wonwoo turns to look at him, puzzled. “On stage, I mean.”

“That’s impossible,” Wonwoo blurts out, slightly alarmed.

“Relax,” he reassures with a soft giggle. “It’s suuuuuuper subtle. Actually, I’m not sure if it’s all in my head, or if it’s just a feeling, but…” He shrugs, smiling.

“What do you think tells us apart?”

“Your approach? I guess would be a good way to describe it.” He chews on his bottom lip. “Jiwon is a performer. He lives and breathes the stage. He guides the music. The way he sings and dances… He wants the audience to experience the music through him, to have a good time and enjoy themselves. And so he performs for that purpose. He leads the crowd, he does a lot of fanservice. He wants everyone to be happy.”

To occupy his restless hands, Junhui toys with the clothes on the LuckyOne doll.

“On the other hand, when you perform, you let the music guide you,” he goes on. “You love the music and you want that to show through. You bring it to life. You sing and dance for the music itself, and you allow for the audience to draw their own emotions from it. Since most of Diamond Days’ songs are upbeat, it’s harder to spot your distinctive flavor. But whenever you guys perform the ballads, it’s easier to tell. You’re a lot more gentle and sweet in your approach.”

Junhui breathes in, lungs full jasmine and other blooming night flowers.

“Jiwon is really… aggressive on stage. Even though there’s a screen or distance between him and the audience, he always somehow manages to get in your face. Whereas you are passionate in a whole different manner. If Jiwon gets the crowd pumped up, then you bring me comfort and ease. You guys are like… Jiwon is a turbulent river, and you’re a calm lake. Jiwon is good for thrills and excitement, like whitewater rafting. But you… your voice and performances… It’s very intimate and personal. Like two people sharing a rowboat, unhurried, gently drifting across the lake.”

Wonwoo stays quiet for a long moment. Truth be told, Junhui is afraid if he might have offended him. Chewing on his lip, he waits in silence. Eventually, Wonwoo clears his throat quietly.

“That’s the first time anyone has ever said anything like that.” Looking over at him, he smiles. “Thank you.”

Junhui’s heart skips another beat. He nods, ducking his face. He’s so happy Wonwoo isn’t angry. A little more brave, he decides to push his luck. “Now that I know your secret, will you ever sing for me?”

Incredulously, Wonwoo chuckles. “Really?”

“Come on!” he whines, grabbing his wrist and swinging it back and forth. “Please?”

“Maybe.”

“Why maybe?” he pouts.

“If you ask Jiwon, he’ll agree in a heartbeat.”

“But I want to hear you sing.”

“You have heard me sing. Less than two hours ago.”

“That doesn’t count. Plus, I was too distracted to fully savor it.”

“What?” Laughing, he shakes his head. “Your favorite band and idol were right in front of your nose. What could have possibly distracted you?”

Cheeks pink, Junhui decides to go for it. “You did,” he says. “The Wonwoo all alone at home. I kept thinking about you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Wonwoo mumbles, looking heavenward and shaking his head.

“That’s why I think I’m going to switch bias.”

At that declaration, Wonwoo stops walking and looks at him sharply. “Don’t tell me you’re going to become a Vernon stan. I knew you spent too much time talking to the kid tonight.”

Junhui giggles. “Well, he is adorable.”

Wonwoo side-eyes him.

Smiling, Junhui pokes his cheek. “I’m kidding, of course. It’s you, Wonwon.” He giggles, slightly embarrassed. “You’re my new bias.”

Wonwoo looks at him like he’s hung the moon in the sky and strung up all the stars, too. Slowly, gingerly, he curls his hand around Junhui’s, never breaking their gaze. “If… If you don’t elaborate, I’m going to interpret it that my own way.”

Heart beating erratically, Junhui still draws comfort from the warmth surrounding his hand and the fact that it’s Wonwoo that’s standing in front of him. Not some unreachable superstar. It should be unbearably terrifying, putting his feelings out there in the open. And yet Junhui feels exhilarated. He knows his heart will be safe with Wonwoo.

“I love you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

A shuddering breath leaves his lungs as he gazes at him with the utmost affection and tenderness. As careful as he would be holding a soap bubble, Wonwoo gathers Junhui into his arms. He presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’ve always loved you, Junhui. So much.” He squeezes his hand within his and tightens his arm around his waist.

Junhui burrows into the crook of his shoulder. “I’m sorry for being so slow.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “It’s all right. I would have waited forever for you if I had to.”

Whining, he tightens his arms around the younger’s torso.

Another soft kiss lands on his temple.

They stay in each other’s embrace for a long moment, simply basking in the happiness and contentment. Junhui’s heart still races, of course, but he rejoices at the feeling. Especially when he can feel Wonwoo’s heart beating just as quickly.

Gently, he puts hand over it. “Is this how hard your heart usually beats at concerts, too?”

“Not even close.” He covers Junhui’s hand with his. “You’ve just made me the happiest man on Earth. Nothing can even come close.”

“Second.”

“Hm?”

“You’re the second. I’m the happiest man on Earth.”

“All right.” Laughing enough that his nose scrunches, Wonwoo admits defeat. “From here on out, I’ll ensure that you remain the happiest.”

“That’s funny. I was going to tell you the same thing.”

Wonwoo grins, and his adorable nose scrunch appears again.

Giddy, Junhui kisses the tip of his nose. “Does this mean I’m the most successful fanboy ever? I think so!”

Wonwoo sighs. He tries to feign annoyance and exasperation, but all that comes through is fondness. “Then I’ll be sure to give you the best fanservice, exclusively all for you, kitten.”

Quietly, under the soft and silvery glow of the moon, the two young lovers share laughter and kisses aplenty.

♪･ﾟ: *♬･ﾟ:* 　♡　 *:･ﾟ♩*:･ﾟ♪

ho5hi_kwon

so you’re really gonna stay in the boonies forever and ever?

😭

junhui_moon

it’s not the boonies!

it’s a quaint and beautiful little village 😌

ho5hi_kwon

that’s not what you said last year…

ah~ love

how it changes people

but leave it to you to find a hot bf out in the middle of nowhere

i knew one of those kids would snatch you up!

junhui_moon

lol

it’s not like im never coming back to the city

i still need to get my certification and everything

so i’ll be visiting in a few months

and i still need to graduate! 🤣

ho5hi_kwon

you better

or i’ll personally go there and drag you back

oh speaking of graduation

how did your kids do?

junhui_moon

excellent!

actually, i sent a couple of them your way

so treat them well when they arrive for the new term

ho5hi_kwon

🤩

i’ll make them all into superstars

and what about your luckyone look-alike?

junhui_moon

valedictorian, duh

ho5hi_kwon

ugh

look at you bragging…

jkjkjkjk 😆

im still impressed you guys were able to hide it from the administration for so long!!!

junhui_moon

it was only 2months until graduation

its not that long

ho5hi_kwon

that’s an eternity to a horny teenager

junhui_moon

omg

wonwoo is a gentleman

ho5hi_kwon

sure sure

that’s why he talked you into moving with him as soon as he graduated

bc it’s a gentleman thing to do

and he’s keeping you from me bc he’s a gentleman too

ρ(｀.´)ρ

junhui_moon

you’re being so overly dramatic

besides he got the highest score across all the senior classes

so i had to keep my promise to give him whatever he wanted

ho5hi_kwon

what a waste

junhui_moon

huh?

ho5hi_kwon

what a waste of a favor

you’d have moved in with him anyway

junhui_moon

irrelevant!

here

look at the pretty flowers instead

ho5hi_kwon

oh those are pretty!

is that the bouquet you gave him in celebration?

junhui_moon

no they’re from the school

they gave flowers to the top 3 seniors

ho5hi_kwon

aw babe

you should have given him some too!

junhui_moon

i can’t show favoritism tho

if i got him a bouquet, then i would have needed to get some for the other kids too

ho5hi_kwon

yeah that’s true

but well

im sure he enjoyed deflowering you way more than he would have appreciated any bouquet you got him

junhui_moon

HOSHIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!

ho5hi_kwon

WHAT

AM I WRONG?????????

With a groan, Junhui slumps on the sofa, face aflame.

“Are you okay?”

So frazzled by his best friend, Junhui hadn’t even heard the front door open and close. He looks up, smiling when he spots Wonwoo across the room. His hair is still styled from an earlier schedule, but he’s changed back into his jeans and t-shirt. Jiwon’s ankle is all but healed, but Wonwoo still occasionally needs to participate in their dance practices to stay on top of things. While he was in town, Jeonghan fit in another magazine shoot. Wonwoo had grumbled about it, but still ended up taking over for Jiwon because the director wanted shots of him running through a field. He drapes his jacket on the back on the dining chair now, and sets his bag on the table.

“Yeah. Jihoon’s locked himself in his studio to work, so Hoshi’s been bored and lonely. I thought I’d keep him company for a bit, but, well…” As soon as Wonwoo walks up next to him, Junhui leans into him. He smiles contently at the familiar scent and warmth. Wonwoo strokes his hair, listening to him. “He’s just being… Well, Hoshi.” He laughs.

Gently, Wonwoo picks up his hand still holding the phone and aims the screen so he can read the conversation thread. The little black cat phone charm dangling from the delicate chain sways back and forth. He laughs. “Wow.”

“Sorry.” Junhui winces, turning off the screen and setting the device among the piles of student papers. “He has no filter. How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home.” Wonwoo pulls his phone out of his back pocket and puts it on the table so he can sit more comfortably.

By habit, Junhui nudges the matching cat charms together until the little heart magnets on their tummies click together. 

“You’re still having fun with those?” Wonwoo asks, gaze fond.

Grinning, Junhui nods. “They’re so cute.” His thumb rubs over the black kitty’s head, then moves on to the same for the white kitty.

“You’re cute.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Jeon.” Or so he says, but once he’s satisfied with making kitties hug, he settles back into the couch with his favorite person.

Wonwoo doesn’t comment verbally, but while one hand settles on his thigh, the other strokes over the pink, warm cheek. He chuckles when Junhui pretends not to understand. “How did your day go?” He glances at the papers strewn on their coffee table. “Busy?”

Junhui hums. “I feel bad for the kids, missing out on all the fun they could be having on vacation, so I try to keep the lessons light but with sustenance. Bet you never had to attend summer school.”

“I did, actually.”

“No way.”

“Yeah, advance placement courses.”

Junhui side-eyes him. “Of course, Mr. Valedictorian.”

Laughing, Wonwoo kisses him. “Aren’t teachers usually happy when their students get good grades and study well? Why are you being sarcastic?”

He knows Wonwoo isn’t really asking. This is a silly conversation, so he replies, “True, but I’m not your teacher anymore, so I can do whatever I want.”

A flicker flashes in the depth of those dark eyes. A slow smirk follows. Junhui’s stomach flip flops and his heart skips several beats. What switch did he flip now? He barely has the time to react, that Wonwoo’s already pushing him down the length of the sofa.

“Wait! I still need to finish grading—”

“Class is over. Time for some fun after school activities.”

A retort—a protest, albeit weak—is formed on the tip of his tongue, but the moment Wonwoo’s lips touch his neck, what tumbles out instead is a soft moan. Automatically, he bares his throat, giving him all the room he wants. He senses Wonwoo smirk against his sensitive skin as he kisses higher and higher, up the column of his throat. He can’t leave marks, at least not there. But Junhui knows that’s hardly going to stop him. Finally, Wonwoo reaches his mouth. His tongue swipes over the plump lips, and Junhui opens for him readily.

Deft fingers slider under his shirt. He flattens his palm and roams over the smooth golden skin, unblemished saved for the bite marks and hickeys littering all over his torso.

The red pen Junhui has been gripping slips out of his grasp and rolls on the floor.

Quickly following the pen are his clothes and Wonwoo’s.