Age 5

Today was a Saturday. And like all Saturdays, the children were out to play. It had become some sort of routine, when the weather was good, the children would all come out to play their favorite game. There was an unspoken rule what game they would all play, after all, they all watched the same shows. Perhaps certain days after a particularly bad episode the kids would decide to switch it up or if they were just getting bored of the game but it had been months now, and the routine had been set. The king like always, stood on top of his mound, prepared for battle, his knights surrounding him. The rebel army stood a couple meters away, led by their own king, the rebel king. Silence. Both sides staring each other down.

“Attack!” as usual, the war cry has the two sides springing into action and from the ground each side scrambles for their weapons, gripping their water guns as they spray each other down, the king of course, jumping right into the thick of it with his own young war cry. From both sides, many fall, shirts splattered and soaked with water as they feign their own death, crumbling to the ground. They had been playing this game for months, each side already knew what to do at this point. And yet now it had become more about the brotherly comradery and the rush of battle over the game itself and the children find that though they had done this so many times, each time posed a new challenge and a new adventure and of course—a new outcome, they frequently switched sides after all. But it seems they are well versed enough at the game at this point that this particular time, the battle seemed to have reached a stalemate, but it’s the rebel king who ends the stalemate, and though his fellow comrades are falling one by one the black haired boy merely points his water gun directly at the other king and with the most dignified yell a child could give, merely snaps out a hard.

“Freeze time!”

In an instant, everyone stops, shooting ceased and like the clear blue sky, the area around the sandbox is still. And then, a single cloud. The rebel king takes his time moving forward, scanning over the area as he heads towards the king who was frozen. He could not kill the king, the laws of this game did not allow that, but it did allow him to move and the rebel king picks his way quietly through the bodies that lay before him, relishing in the power that gave him the ability to both freeze time and cause his enemies to go unseeing just for a moment. He could not kill, but he could certainly reposition. Just the most gentle touch, just the gentlest of steps and—

“You know you can’t actually do that right?”

In an instant the spell breaks. For a moment everyone is too dazed to say anything, eyes adjusting to the sunlight, bodies turning towards the voice. It’s the rebel king who speaks first.

“W-well yeah of course. It’s just a game after all.”

“Why play a game like that? It’s stupid, not realistic at all. Time’s not going to ever stop for you, it’s not going to stop for anyone. That’s just how life works.”

“Well who do you think you are trying to ruin our game?” one of the king’s knights, a skinny boy with a flaring temper, merely snarls forward, and yet the rebel king merely stares at the spell breaker and says nothing. He was small, smaller than the rebel king himself and skinny. He looked like the wind could pull him to pieces right there and certainly if tempers flared there was no doubt that the kid could get pulled to pieces right there. But there was something about his eyes, his dark orbs were black enough to pierce through light and though they were a dark brown like all of theirs, they told a story though the story was shrouded with the playful clouds that now danced in the boy’s eyes. The boy was too wise for his age, to intricate and complex and even at five years old the rebel king understood that this one, this boy standing right here, was special.

“Alright everyone, let’s go home.” It isn’t his voice that sounds but the other king’s. “It’s boring just standing here, besides, it doesn’t look nice out anymore. Looks like it’s going to rain.”

“What’s your name?” the boy speaks up, eyes still fixed on the rebel king’s and the king’s mouth moved before he even had a chance to think.

“Luhan. And yours?”

The boy flits forward, a smile curling on his lips. He seems like a fox, dancing forward, moving forward quicker than anyone can see and gently, the softest of air echoes in Luhan’s ears. “My name is Sehun, Oh Sehun but my real name is T— you will do well to remember that.”

“I will.” It’s an instinctive answer, Luhan’s still frozen in place, staring at the boy now so close to him. “I won’t forget.” The droplets on his head wake him up. And before Luhan can react the rain is already pattering down, soaking the two of them that had remained behind next to the sandboxes. “I need to go home.” He turns, feet pittering through the now wet sand, sluggish as Luhan strives forward “But I won’t forget.”

He forgets.

--

The cake was of course, chocolate. Luhan’s favorite. Of course, anything for a boy who was turning eight, who had already begun to outgrow the childish games that he had enjoyed merely a couple years before and resorted to mischief around the house. He drove his mother insane, but it was part of him growing up and though Luhan was allowed some slack in terms of scoldings because he was still young enough to get away with things, the hard times were set to begin soon. But for now all there really existed was cake. And Sehun of course. Luhan didn’t really remember where he had met Sehun, all he remembered about the event was that it was at the park, but it had felt like Sehun had always been by his side. Naturally Sehun was given the seat closest to the birthday boy as well as the biggest slice of cake that Luhan could manage to give. And of course for Luhan’s hard efforts he was rewarded with one of Sehun’s glittering smiles and a thank you. Luhan liked those smiles. He liked making people happy. But his own mischief often came before happiness and Luhan found himself digging into the cake with a sort of vigor the moment everyone had been given cake, and he does his best to give a bright, cake filled grin to the camera that tries to snap his picture.

“So Luhan, do you know what you want to be when you grow up?”

For a child of eight, that was something that caused Luhan to pause, to consider for a moment before he smiled innocently at his parents. “I don’t know yet. Maybe a firefighter?”

Amused chuckles.  “That’s alright, you have time Luhan.” One of the parents spoke. Luhan didn’t know who, he was too busy digging back into his cake.

“And you Sehun, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“Me?” Luhan paused. Sehun had stopped eating his cake. He was instead gazing thoughtfully up, seeming to run through the options in his mind. “I want to be a clockmaker when I grow up.”

The adults seemed to titter at that, surprised. “That’s nice Sehun, you can be whatever you want to be when you grow up.” A hand reached out to ruffle the other’s hair. “Your son is quite intelligent Ms. Oh, already knowing what he wants to be.”

“Well if Sehun wants to be a clockmaker then I want to be a CEO of his company.” Luhan’s sudden words seemed to surprise the adults. “I want to stay by Sehun’s side forever and ever because Sehun is my best friend.”

That caused Luhan’s mother to elicit a laugh. “Well it seems as if you two will be friends for a long time.”

--

And as the years passed, Luhan’s mother was certainly corrent. One year melded into another and the boys supported each other as they walked forth, but in the twelfth year, for the first time Luhan was competing against Sehun, not with him. His mother had decided that perhaps it was finally time for Luhan to try to compete in a sport. It would, as she liked to say, help him gain that competitive spirit that all his friends had.

So, Luhan had spent the summer training and finally he stood, ready for the track and field tryouts with many other first years. Sehun was nestled at his side. They didn’t speak. There wasn’t much to say after all. Luhan had gotten out all his worries mere hours before to Sehun and all there was now was pure silence. And then the noise.

In moments Luhan was moving, legs pumping as he sprinted towards the finish line. He was certain that he didn’t move with any of the glory of those runners that he had seen on television but at this point what he was bent on doing was winning over anything. Already, everything around him seemed to melt away, a blur as all the boy noticed was the fact that he was most certainly running faster than the other boys, much faster it felt like. And nevertheless the finish line felt so far away. Had Luhan even moved? It felt like he was running but how fast was he moving? How far away was he from the starting line? He felt like a deer, chased by a bunch of rabid hunters, and like the prey that he was, Luhan couldn’t help it. He looked behind him. And behind him he saw, the trail of boys behind him and at the very end, Sehun, seeming to be working as hard as he could and still at the back of the pack. Almost instinctively, Luhan reached back, lips already opening to try to speak to Sehun, to try to call to the other with that grin that he always had when the other was dragging behind him, moving too slowly for Luhan who always seemed to be hurrying somewhere.

But Sehun was the competition. And Luhan had to force himself to clamp his lips shut as he turned his head forward, merely pumping his arms and legs as he forced himself to move even faster. But all Luhan could think about now was Sehun, settled at the back of the pack and Luhan could feel himself moving slower now, sluggish, as if the seconds were ticking by slower to him. And this time when he turned his head Sehun was right next to him, matching his pace. How had he caught up so quickly? And suddenly Sehun seemed in front of Luhan. And now the hand that had previously been reaching back for Sehun now stretched forward, and Luhan could feel himself straining as Sehun seemed to slip farther and farther away from him as the seconds ticked by. Why? Why was Sehun, who had moments before been behind him, now leaving him? And why could Luhan not catch up? Was Sehun that much faster than him? Or was he just that more determined, putting his best on the line when Luhan himself had been more distracted with his placement instead of finishing the race. Luhan watched as Sehun passed the finish line. And moments later he skidded past it himself, sputtering to a stop as he gasped for air, deep breaths that shuddered through his body. And though he received a couple pats on the back Luhan could already see the throng gathered around Sehun, congratulating the boy for doing so well in the tryouts, for winning the whole thing and for doing it in such exiting fashion. Sehun had merely accepted those congratulations, a warm smile curling on his normally guarded and then he had left. Never once, had he turned back. Never once, had he looked back.

Perhaps track wasn’t for Luhan.

Age 15

But Luhan had continued it. He had continued to run and train and attend competitions. And he had always placed well in them but not as well as Sehun. Sehun who was the golden child, always showered with praises. Sehun who nearly always placed on the podium in events, who had the sort of fire and determination for the sport that Luhan didn’t seem to ever have. And now at age 15, Sehun was already considered part of the track family. And with his new family, he drifted far from Luhan, like a boat in a turbulent river, forever out of Luhan’s grasp. He had been hanging more with his track friends now, sure he and Luhan shared many classes together but the moments that Luhan had to speak with Sehun were brief before Sehun was whisked away to another captain’s meeting or pat on the back by some track star and hoisted away from him. Luhan remembered after the most recent race the way he ran to congratulate the other only to see Sehun with his arms linked around Jongin’s, a track star a year older than them.

Sehun never looked back at him. Never spared him a glance. He never did, perhaps he never had. Never spared poor Luhan even a look.

For the first time, Luhan tasted the sour taste of jealousy.

What was worse was that Luhan could never hate Jongin for taking Sehun away from him. Because Jongin was kind and brilliant and who wouldn’t have wanted to be friends with Jongin who seemed to be good at everything. Now if it was perhaps Baekhyun who was kind but a little too exuberant and sometimes arrogant for Luhan’s taste, maybe it would be different. But Jongin had always been kind to Luhan, all the boy could do was sulk to himself.

And that he did, for days to weeks to months. And outwardly, Luhan didn’t show much. His grades were still solid and he still had that bright smile but something about him seemed muted, a bright splatter of yellow that seemed to have been dulled down to a former shadow of itself. And it wasn’t as if Luhan was in love with Sehun or anything, all Luhan felt towards Sehun was purely affection as a best friend. And though they were true friends, friends that could probably go months without speaking and come back together right to where they had left off, Luhan still felt incomplete with Sehun. He felt lost, thrown into the breeze like a fluttering piece of paper and though outwardly he seemed the same, he floundered, with no path in front of him, walking in the dark as if unable to see.

Without Sehun, Luhan felt utterly lost.

--

“Luhan. You drifted off on me again.”

Its Sehun’s stern words that wake Luhan from his stupor and the boy seems dazed for a moment, unable to figure out where he is before he focuses on the figure sitting in front of him and watches as the three Sehuns meld back into two and then one.

“Not my fault—“ Luhan slurs out “Haven’t been sleeping well. Plus, this project . I don’t want to do it.” A whine. Sehun merely sighs.

“Luhan, why are you always like this? You never seem to ever want to do anything. You have no motivation.”

“What do you know? We’ve barely talked for the last couple months.” Now Luhan was getting a little defensive. What did Sehun know about the Luhan he had neglected for months?

“Luhan. I’m your best friend, of course I know you.”

“Haven’t been my best friend for the last couple of months have you.”

“Well,” Sehun shifts slightly on the bed where he sat cross-legged and his eyes piece Luhan’s. “I’m not inclined to wait for someone that doesn’t even know what they want in life.”

That hurts. “I have time to figure out what I want to do Sehun.”

“Luhan. Time isn’t going to wait for you either.” It had been a long time since they had spoken like this, with Sehun fixing his serious dark brown eyes on Luhan, glaring so intensely he seemed to be trying to spearhead the other with his gaze. “No one will wait for you to find motivation to find what you want to do in life. Do you think that this world cares about you?” Sehun’s words come faster now, swift and harsh and yet, calm, as if Sehun had accepted this a long time ago. “This world doesn’t care that you need time, before you know it time will slip right through your fingers and all you’ll be left with is dust. No one is going to wait for you Luhan. And unless you find some goddamn motivation you’ll end up as nothing. And I don’t want to be friends with someone who doesn’t even have enough motivation to live the precious seconds of their life as it should be lived.”

He’s right of course. As much as Sehun was harsh, the words he spoke were always the truth. They always unearthed some flaw in Luhan, the way that he was so lazy and unmotivated, the way he had always needed someone to lean on instead of standing up for himself. Luhan doesn’t notice he’s crying before the tears hit his own palm, arm stiff against the bed that he still stayed propped up on. He doesn’t notice how much his heart hurts until Sehun’s arm is around him.

“I’m sorry. I was harsh with you.” Suddenly a soft rumble and Luhan suddenly wonders what things puberty is doing to Sehun because certainly his voice had gotten much deeper at this point. “But Luhan, I’m so frustrated with the fact that all you’re doing is drifting. You think I haven’t been paying attention to you? I’ve been watching you every single moment. What do you want Luhan? What do you truly want in life?”

Such a hard question for a 15 year old to answer. And the classic answer nearly forces itself from Luhan’s lips. But the boy merely forces that answer back and for the first time he thinks, he really thinks, and the answer he blurts out is unconventional from anything he had ever said to anyone before. “I want to sparkle. Like the stars. I don’t want to be left behind, I want to cement my legacy in time, in history.”

Luhan thought he could spot a flicker of a smile on Sehun’s lips. “Do you remember Luhan? When we first met? Who I said I was?”

A pause before a smile curled on Luhan’s lips. “You are Oh Sehun, my best friend.”

Luhan thought he saw the smile fade for just a moment. “Yes. I am Oh Sehun, your best friend, and together we can make anything happen.”

Luhan must have been imagining things again.