WARNING: Read with caution. Heavy themes ahead. 

The investigation into the incident revealed that the fire had started in the living room from what was discovered to have been a candle's wick. When asked to discuss the matter, Youngjae confirmed that his mother liked to leave candles on the windowsill. She enjoyed the breeze that carried whatever little scent they had further into the house.

The case closed and immediately after attending the burning of her ashes, Youngjae was moved into the orphanage that would alter his way of life.

No more would he value being treated as a king.

◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇

The orphanage was a ramshackle two-story building perched atop a hill that overlooked the sea. Wintergreens encircled the building 3/4's of the way around; leaving a small break in between for a trail that led to the river some miles from the playground. The only way to and from the orphanage was to cross a rickety old wooden bridge.

Upon arriving at the orphanage, everyone—including the janitor— greeted Youngjae with warm welcomes and smiles. While he had yet to acclimate himself to the loss of his mother, he quickly learned to appreciate the kindness that everyone displayed. In particular, he fell in love with the Director—an insightful middle-aged man who always donned a pair of gloves and a fitted suit. The adoration came relatively quick and while he knew no one could replace his mother, Youngjae came to realize the fact that his life had to move on.

In all regards, the move to the orphanage seemed like the perfect resolution to the nightmarish inferno the recent past had become. That was until the bullying started.

♘

The Director was every boy's favorite person so when he took to Youngjae like a fish out of water, the older boys became displeased. At first, the complaints were nothing more than a number of snickers and grunts that soon grew into taunts leveled at Youngjae—from the way he wore his knee-high socks to the way he picked up a spoon at dinner. Youngjae hadn't understood why his friends had turned their backs on him so quickly and so easily. Weren't they working as a team?

Weeks turned into months and eventually the boys had had enough. On one especially cold morning, they forced Youngjae into a fight he could not win. On top of being outnumbered, two of the four boys had learned how to fight. As previous members of street gangs, this was the one thing required to defend your territory.

"Youngjae, we told you before. Don't ruin things for the rest of us." Jinhe slammed his fist into Youngjae's stomach. The breath in his lungs deflated relatively quickly. He coughed.

"That's right. We're supposed to be on equal footing and yet you take The Director away from us," Hwall said. He slammed the heel of his foot onto Youngjae's toes.

Youngjae cried out in pain. His digits throbbed as Hwall shoved him back onto the ground.

“What makes you so special?” Jinhe raised his foot over Youngjae's head. “What makes you any bit different than the rest of us? Why does the Director give you all of his attention?” He was ready to swing his foot across Youngjae's head when a firm hand gripped his shoulder. All four boys looked up at the towering figure.

The Director remained stoic as he spoke. "Little boys who fight are the worst kind of boys."

He ordered them each to a classroom as he moved to help Youngjae up. "Draw the blinds and lock the door. You'll know when I arrive."

"Yes, sir," they mumbled collectively before trudging off towards the stairs.

"Youngjae, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm okay." Youngjae kept his eyes trained on the ground. They hadn't made fun of his mother today but what was stopping them from doing so any other day?

The Director slid his fingers underneath Youngjae's chin and lifted his head up high. "Go wash up and stay in your room until I come. Okay?"

Youngjae nodded. He felt his heart thump against his chest.

The Director stood and headed down the hallway. Halfway to the stairs, Youngjae shouted: "Wait!"

He turned. Youngjae fiddled with the hem of his sweater. "Don't get mad at them. Please. They're just upset."

The Director smiled. "Of course, my king."

Youngjae gave him a shy smile.

He hadn't heard that last phrase.

#

The days continued to go by without an exchange of words between the boys and Youngjae. Youngjae wondered if they hadn't yet forgiven him.

So he turned to the girls. They welcomed him into their world of dolls, play partying and hand movements that amounted to some type of game. On occasion, he would get asked out by one of the youngest girls but he would kindly decline. He couldn't be bothered by love when his heart was discontent with the social situation he had been put in. He hoped to make things right with the boys. And soon.

One day, while in home economics, he took and hid a number of sugared cookies in his knapsack. When class was done with, he ventured towards the playground with the intention of handing a cookie to each of the boys but was stopped by a girl he had come to know as "Jiji". Her age brought him immense comfort because he didn't have have the need to act like the older brother.

"Hmm." Jiji tucked her hands behind her back and leaned forward. "What's that I smell in your bag?"

"N-nothing. What smell?"

Youngjae had made sure to pick a day where the cookies wouldn't be fragrant. Lemon didn't stick around for long but grape did.

Jiji giggled. Her black pigtails bounced in around her plump face as she tilted her head from side to side. "I saw you take some cookies in class."

Youngjae blushed. That fiend!

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone." She took a step forward. Youngjae took a step back. "On the occasion that you let me snack on one."

Youngjae pursed his lips but soon gave in to her demands. He didn't have it in him to say no—especially not to Jiji who had been the first to welcome him into the group of girls. "Alright. Only one." He looked around for a place to sit. "Let's go sit on that log over there."

"Okay!"

They sat with their backs to the orphanage—shoulders to shoulders and knees drawn close. Jiji pulled the frock of her dress towards Youngjae. Youngjae averted his gaze. A blush crept up over the tips of his ears.

"Don't worry. It's only an apron."

Youngjae dropped the cookie into her lap. He watched as she nibbled on it precariously before plopping the entire thing into her open mouth.

He reached over and patted her hair. Jiji stopped chewing. She swallowed hard before looking over at Youngjae who was smiling down at her with warm, trusting eyes. An angel in disguise.

She broke out into a squeal as she threw herself on top of Youngjae. Youngjae subconsciously wrapped an arm around her back as they fell over.

"Jiji, the ground is still wet!" Youngjae screeched.

"It's only a little bit of snow!"

"Even worse!"

All the while, the six boys Youngjae wanted forgiveness from had been watching from somewhere along the tree line. Not a single one was content with the recent development.

#

Youngjae wasn't able to give the boys a cookie. Immediately after having been informed of the breach of classroom rules, the headmistress had confiscated the treats.

"What are the rules?" she asked.

"N-n-n-n" Youngjae stopped to clear his throat. The headmistress cracked the whip against the wall. Youngjae momentarily recoiled. Any bit closer and that would have been his face.

"Loud and clear."

Youngjae repeated the rule to her with only a minor infraction. Her unsympathetic eyes took in Youngjae's tear-stained face for the fraction of a section before shoving him into the janitor's closet.

"Take your time reflecting on your lack of misgivings. There will be no dinner for you."

"Y-y-yes ma'-"

The door slammed shut. Amidst the wholesome darkness, flashes of the fire materialized before Youngjae's eyes. He wondered if his mother had felt this frightened in her final moments. Or worse, had she felt alone?

The Director, upon returning from his errands in town, had promptly scolded the headmistress for not treating Youngjae with kindness before venturing deeper into the building.

The doorknob rattled. Youngjae looked up. The hinges creaked. He huddled up further into the corner as he waited to be assaulted by the headmistress once more.

So when the Director's face appeared in the doorway, a surge of relief tore free over Youngjae. He flung himself into the Director's open arms.

The Director rubbed circles into the back of Youngjae's head. "You're alright now. I won't let anyone hurt you anymore."

"Promise you won't leave me," Youngjae said in between sobs.

The Director reached down and took Youngjae's much smaller hand in his own much more defined. In one delicate motion, he raised his arm up into the air like a ballerina in the final curtsy before the red curtain falls. "I promise." He closed his eyes and took in the forbidden scent of his King.

The following morning, Youngjae awoke to five pairs of eyes trained on him. Of the six boys, Jinhe was missing.

Youngjae kept his eyes focused on the space directly in front of him as he moved to the bathroom.

Where was Jinhe?

The answer didn't come until sometime after breakfast. Jinhe—whom was the loudest of the boys on a daily basis—walked into class with a lifeless expression. He fell into his seat and never once responded to the probes and questions that came from his friends.

The bell rung and the six boys shuffled out of class together. Youngjae wondered where Jinhe's change of character had come from. While he wasn't averse to a quiet Jinhe, the silence he had offered today unnerved him beyond belief.

Youngjae shuffled in his seat. He was going to stand when someone clamped down on his shoulder. He looked up to see Jinhe staring down at him. On any other day, Youngjae would have been itching to get out of his skin but today felt different. There was something to the way Jinhe moved that gave Youngjae the sense that something was terribly wrong. Even mean-spirited people smile.

"Yes?"

"Come with me."

Youngjae prayed that Jinhe's drastic change in behavior wasn't because of him.

They snuck into the bathrooms on the second floor. No one was allowed inside because the toilets were currently being fixed for a plumbing issue.

Youngjae took tentative, small steps after Jinhe. He nearly yelped when Jinhe spun around on his heels. Youngjae glanced to the side and froze. He could see their reflections in the mirror.

Youngjae returned his gaze to Jinhe. What was he capable of doing this time?

Jinhe bowed, startling Youngjae with the sudden movement. "I'm sorry." He dropped down to his knees and bowed once more. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. How many times would you like me to say it? No. That doesn't matter. Not when I'm begging you. Please. Accept my apology."

Youngjae took a small step back. Jinhe shot out to grab ahold of his foot. "Please. Don't go without forgiving me."

Youngjae felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't understand what was happening. Why was this happening?

"Y-yes. Of course."

Jinhe looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks. "You do? You forgive me?"

"Yes. I said yes. Please, let me go." Youngjae managed to free himself from Jinhe