Age 36

“I think purple would be the ideal color.”

“Purple? Why purple?”

“Because you know, it’s a nice color. A maybe soft violet, I think that would be lovely.”

“Or maybe we could do black. You know, a blend of all colors, that way no matter what color she likes she can have it in black.”

“Luhan.” Sehun turns to fix his eyes on Luhan and Luhan swears that the other looks even more exasperated than all the other times that he had given Luhan that look. “Are you seriously fit to be a father?”

That answer Luhan already knew. He was most definitely not fit to be a father on any level at all. He was frantic, frenzied, not at all organized, impulsive, and most of all lacked common sense. But if anything, his strong points made him perhaps the most suitable to be a parent. He was loving and caring, would give his daughter undivided attention; he had always wanted a child. Something told Luhan that raising a child would be a challenging and rewarding experience. He knew that he would learn from his mistakes, that he would gradually correct his flaws and raise a child right. So even with all his disorganization, Luhan desperately wanted a child that he and Sehun could call his own.

“I might not be the best at planning this stuff, but I think I’m most definitely fit to be a father. Especially when I’m a hell of a good emotional consultant.”

That, Luhan knew Sehun couldn’t argue with. However, the man merely raises an eyebrow in reply.

“A good emotional consultant, if you have the time. Again, let me ask you, are you sure you have enough time to take care of a child? I know your job can be busy and all.”

“The answer is the same as all the times that you asked me previously. I can make time.” And Luhan knew that there was more to Sehun’s question than just about the amount of time he had in a day. They were both thirty six now, relatively old to be having their first child. Would they have enough strength to see this child grow up? Luhan was determined to make it so. He would be sure to raise his daughter until she was ready to go out into the world on her own, even if that meant he had to work a few extra years, or he would have to fight to stay healthy for more years than before. He could do it, they both could, Luhan was ready, he was willing to sacrifice blood, sweat and tears for a daughter of his own.

Two days later, Luhan’s dream became a reality. With the baby room all complete and food stocked up, the couple had gone to the orphanage to adopt a child. Luhan hadn’t expected much when he first walked in, he had not expected to find the daughter that would become the center of his life. But he found her. The moment that Luhan laid his eyes on her he knows that she’s the one. The child destined for them to raise, one that would grow up strong and brave, that would struggle but would ultimately prevail. With the papers all signed, it’s with a gentle sort of awe that Luhan lifts up the baby into his arms, fingers smoothing over the soft blanket wrapped around her to gently press a finger to her cheek. The skin under his touch felt real, tangible, and the moment that his new daughter feels the touch she squirms, opening her big dark eyes, lips parting into a wide smile as she moves to grip his finger.

“What are you going to name her, Luhan?” Sehun’s standing next to him but Luhan’s not quite aware of it. All he can think about is the beautiful squirming ball of life in his arms.

“I—I’m not sure yet actually.” She already had a name, from the mother that had left her for the orphanage, that had put her up to adoption. But did Luhan want to keep that name or have the girl start anew. He most certainly wanted to give her a Chinese name. But what specific name? He hadn’t thought about that for long enough yet. It’s okay though right? We have time.”

A catch of Sehun’s breath. A soft inhale that finally breaks Luhan’s attention, and he finds himself swallowing because he knows. A look at Sehun’s expression and Luhan knows what the other’s going to say.

“Do we Luhan, do we really have time?”

A dangerous thought. Luhan knew. At age 36 they were getting older and older faster than Luhan had anticipated. Who knew if their life would be cut short before they even had a chance to truly prove themselves? Who knew if they were suddenly to encounter some disease that would ruin them before his daughter had truly grown? If there was one thing that Luhan knew it was that to find himself he had needed a driving force, the motivation to finish all he wanted to do before he died. That same driving force now was what propelled him to open his lips and utter the first words that came from his lips.

“Her name will be Oh ChaoXing. And like the morning star that glimmers in the sky, she will forever glimmer in and shine in this world.”

--

And she would. Under the guiding care of her fathers Chaoxing would begin to grow into a beautiful young woman, full of confidence and wit that made her beautiful, skilled, desirable. But when Luhan was 45 she was merely a ten-year-old girl. Already full of wit and excitement, but still learning the ways of the world. If there was anyone who shone at that time it would have been Luhan. The moment Chaoxing had been old enough to stay home alone or with a nanny Luhan had gone back to work. Perhaps it was the freshness that his daughter gave him, but something in him had gained a new spark of life, and Luhan had worked harder than before. Junmyeon who had been the greatest obstacle of his life was left behind, instructed to transfer to another branch of the company, as Luhan worked harder and more efficiently than before. Before he knew it, Luhan was at the cusp of greatness, dining with those who years before had been way out of his league. And then in a single moment it all fell into place, and Luhan, who had worked for the clockmaking company for nearly 20 years, had become CEO as he had once dreamed as a little child. Through all his hardships, through all his struggles, Luhan had prevailed. He had reached his goal, he was at the top of the summit.

“So, what now?”

Sitting at the table, Luhan had proposed the question out to Sehun with a soft motion. It was the night Luhan had been told that he would get the position of CEO. He had come home from work exhausted, still stunned from what he had learned but happy, so happy the moment he had seen Sehun he had bursted into tears.

“Well what do you mean what now?” Sehun had sat him down at the dinner table, taking his hands as he offered the other a warm smile, soft congratulations for what Luhan had accomplished. Chaoxing would have been ecstatic as well had she not have been already in bed, asleep.

“Well I mean, I did it. I reached my goal, I’m CEO of your company, I’ve made my name in the world, I’m well respected. What else is there to do?” Luhan couldn’t have been happier, but there was also a hollowness in his words. There was no more drive, no more spark. What was there left for him to do?

“Hold on, you’re moving too fast. Have you truly made a name for yourself Luhan? Or have you merely inherited some position, are you truly unworthy of that position? Have you even proven yourself yet?”

“I’ve proven myself by getting this far—“

“But not proven your capabilities yet that would make you a truly great man in this world.” Sehun’s words were not meant to hurt, they were warm and relaxing but matter of fact. Sehun never held anything back from Luhan, that was why Luhan cherished him so much. Sehun told him the truth. “There is still a long way to go Luhan, your journey isn’t done yet. You still have to prove that you are someone meant to be remembered by history.”

That was right. There was still work to be done, Luhan’s journey wasn’t over yet. With a sigh, Luhan sets his face. Tired and worn by the years, Luhan was still not ready to sit back and relax. After all, there were still great things that had to be done.

--

And in time, Luhan did do those great things. From the depths of despair Luhan brought hope, hope to an industry that was failing. Still relatively young and brilliant, Luhan managed to capture the sparks of imagination in his young workers and with his charm he captured the minds of the consumers. Before long analog clocks had become the new fad again, the digital age still ran its course, but Luhan’s clocks were there for aesthetic gain as well as for practicality. The industry boomed again, the money flowed. But Luhan could not continue going on for much longer. At age seventy he knew that he didn’t have many days left to live, his formerly strong body that would not wear down even after pulling two all nighters was weak now. He needed to sleep early, and it was hard to move without the help of a cane.

But Luhan had no regrets.

His company he had left in good hands and was flourishing, his daughter had grown into a beautiful woman. A woman that had already started her own family, marrying a man that Luhan had given his approval for merely hours after he had met him. Sehun had taken some more time to warm up to the man, but Luhan knew that once he had given his approval, Sehun was quite likely to follow in suit. They matched each other better than Luhan had formerly thought, his best friend, cool and calm, set on a path, had his own spark of fire, his own need for guidance. Or maybe he was just weak for Luhan.

Luhan liked that idea more.

Now that their daughter had grown up and they were no longer working, Luhan had watched his husband’s former cool-headedness and objective thinking melt into pure love for Luhan. If Luhan wished for something, he would get it, after all, they had nothing to lose anymore. Luhan would have liked to think he was the stronger man when it came to agreeing to demands, but frankly, he was as much as a er as Sehun was. Now that the rushed routines in their life had died down, they had more time to focus on each other. And Luhan was happy.

But there were still loose ends that Luhan needed to tie up. He had affirmed he had no regrets, and he stood by that, however, perhaps, somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, there were a couple of people he had wanted to meet just once more.

“You’re here.”

He seems surprised. That much, Luhan could give him. After all, they hadn’t exactly spent much of the time they knew each other as friends. Bitter enemies more like it, their relationship fueled by competitive nature and of course, jealousy. Luhan had always wished that instead of treating Junmyeon like an enemy, he had treated him as a friend, depending on each other as they continued to climb up the corporate ladder. Perhaps then, Luhan would have gained a friend to learn on when he broke down, instead of the enemy who tried to utilize Luhan’s weakness for his own gains.

“Did you expect for me not to be here?”

Luhan frankly hadn’t known what to expect when he had received the message that Junmyeon had wished to meet him again. After all these years there was still a tinge of bitterness that sparkled in Luhan’s heart, for all the pain and suffering that Junmyeon had caused him. Part of him had wished to deny the other’s request to meet, though he had been the one who had sent the message first to reconnect with the man. But his heart would have never been settled leaving their relationship like this, and they were both old men now, reaching the end of their time. To say that Luhan had no regrets for how he acted towards Junmyeon was a lie, and it was time to face up to the truth of those things.

“Frankly, no.” Junmyeon shifts slightly in his seat. Luhan can see that time had worn him down as well. His normally charming smile was tinged with tiredness and Luhan could wrinkles on the other’s face. He hadn’t seen Junmyeon in a long time, not since he had become CEO and to see how Junmyeon seems to have aged as he had was a surprise. Quietly, the man takes a seat. “After we parted, after everything that happened, I thought you wouldn’t have even wanted to hear my name, less so even see me in person.”

“Frankly I had my doubts coming to see you.” Junmyeon seems to have prepared everything for Luhan’s arrival, though the man claimed he doubted that Luhan would show up. He must have known somewhere in his heart that Luhan would show up. They were both old and tired after all, there was no need to hold grudges that had already withered. “But there is no place in my heart for ill will anymore. I am old and tired, I thought perhaps it was finally time to give an old rival another chance.” Not an enemy, not in the slightest. Though they had been against each other, there was nothing that had made them enemies. No, they were merely two men trying to make their way in the world. “In any case, what did you want to see me about?” Quietly, Luhan lifts his tea to his lips. His hand shook as he lifts up the cup. A spark of sadness merely shot through the man. At one time those hands were strong, moving in a flurry of motion, filled with confidence. Now, slowly his body was breaking on him.

“I want to apologize.” Junmyeon fixes his eyes on Luhan. “For everything that happened between us. What I did, was unforgivable.”

“Unforgivable? Not quite so, you were just like me at that time. We were just two men trying to make our way in the world.” Luhan had realized that somewhere down the line. He had seen it repeatedly with his own co-workers; a fight of power, dominance, a fight to push oneself up and to pull another down. There was nothing strange about him and Junmyeon.

“Nevertheless, I did some things I cannot bear to forgive myself for. We may have been ambitious, but we could have been friends all the same. We could have been rivals, but we also could have been friends. Instead of pushing each other down, we could have lifted each other up. And where the other succeeded and one of us failed, we would have learned from the experience and worked even harder. We would have fought honorably. And that thought plagues me every day. Was I so blinded by ambition, that I could not acknowledge another as brilliant as I was?”  Junmyeon’s fingers dig their way into the table, just the slightest of motions but Luhan could see in his eyes that there was some semblance of sorrow, of guilt.

He had thought about this for a long time, Luhan realized. Just as Luhan had all those sleepless nights, Junmyeon had his own share of loose ends he felt the need to tie up, and this apology was one of them. And it came both from the old man that Junmyeon was and the brash young boy he had been. Gently, Luhan reaches over to place his hand on top of Junmyeon’s. “Life is too short to hold grudges. Life is too short to regret over what could have been, over what was. That portion of our lives is over now and with that, our grudges and our ambitions. All that’s left now is peace, and to forgive. And just as I forgive your actions Junmyeon, I hope you’ll forgive mine.”

There was not even a need to state that, Luhan knew that Junmyeon had already forgiven him, just like Junmyeon knew that Luhan had forgiven him. They had probably known it the moment they saw each other. But it still felt good to hear the words of forgiveness come from Junmyeon’s lips.

“Do you think it’s too late to make a new friend?” they had settled themselves down closer now, spending their days recounting old memories, where they had been after they had parted their separate ways Luhan’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Junmyeon was finishing up the last of his tea “Considering that we’re nearing the end of our lives?”

“I think it’s even more important now to make new friends, and cherish those that you have.” Day had quickly turned into night. Surrounded by the hustle and bustle of dates and chatter, Luhan never felt more at peace. “Because when I die, it’s my friends and family I want to be surrounded by.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Junmyeon’s lips curl into a smile. Luhan had never seem him glitter like this when he was in the workroom “There’s still plenty of time left to make new friends.”

--

If anything, Luhan underestimated his own capabilities. Thirteen years passed and finally, Luhan knew that he truly only had days left to live. His body had continued to deteriorate in strength and when the day finally came, Luhan knew. Perhaps it was because all his loose ends were tied up, perhaps it was because he was surrounded by his family and friends, but when the sun woke him up one morning, Luhan knew that this was the final day of his journey in this world. And he was content, because he lived a good life, he was well respected, well liked, and surrounded by those he loved. Junmyeon had passed away a couple of months earlier, the longtime rival of his had become one of his best friends over the thirteen-year span and his death had drained Luhan even more than he thought was possible. It was about time for him to go.

And almost sensing that his time was up, it was friends and family that came to pay their respects to their beloved CEO, their beloved family member, their beloved friend.

“I don’t know why, but I just had a feeling.” His daughter Chaoxing had exclaimed through tears that morning. “I had a feeling that I needed to be by your side today, I had a feeling that I had to come to see you today. I had a feeling—“she burst into a whole fresh round of tears. And Luhan had smiled, fingers moving to gently pat his daughter’s head. He knew the feeling and he knew how hard it was for her to say what she was feeling. When Luhan lost his parents it had been the same kind of grief. He had known it was coming to, had gone to see them, praying that they would not leave him. But death was natural in the cycle of all things and time healed that wound like it would heal Chaoxing’s heart as well.

“Take care of her,” he had uttered gently as her husband offered his own respects to Luhan. He had loved Myungwook like a son, he was a good man for his daughter and when they had gotten married, Luhan had nearly cried. They would be alright when he was gone, that he was certain about.

Some of the other visitors he had got were a surprise, Jongin who he hadn’t seen in forever, some old college friends of his, a coworker who he had only recently met again, all here to chat with him, as if some force had told them that this perhaps would be the final day they would see Oh Luhan. And of course, then there was Yixing. He had come over for dinner, and had chattered to Luhan through most of that time. While time had worn down Yixing’s features, it hadn’t touched the other’s mental capabilities, he was sharp and as excitable as always. Healthy still. They had settled down after dinner in front of the television, Yixing taking his usual armchair. Neither of them pay much attention to the television.

“Where’s Sehun. It’s unlike him to go out so late. Is he still working?” Yixing’s lips curl down into a frown and Luhan knows that he disapproves, but the man merely shrugs.

“Sehun’s working on one of his clocks. Recently he’s been much more spacey, as he’s gotten older it seems like the only two things he remembers are his family and his clocks. And now that I’m reaching the end of my time—“ Luhan ignores the way Yixing chokes on his tea “I think he’s ready to go as well. He’s always said he’s rather not leave me behind or let me go ahead of him. So I think he’s trying to finish his last project before it’s time.”

“Funny thing actually, about remembering.” Yixing furrows his browns, offering a quirk of his head towards Luhan “Did you know that my son actually said he didn’t remember Sehun?”

“What? He didn’t remember my husband?” Luhan purses his lips in confusion “He used to play with my daughter so much and he always ate over, how does he not remember Sehun?”

“Right? I kept saying Sehun, Oh Sehun? The husband of Oh Luhan? And my son said to me, father you must be dreaming, who is Oh Sehun?” Yixing pauses before he offers Luhan a strange look “And I told him, you know because my son is a government official, to look through the files until he found Oh Sehun and that would prove to him that he exists and that it wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. But this was the thing,” Yixing falls silent for a moment “He couldn’t find any Oh Sehun. The Oh Sehun he found had died nearly two hundred years ago.”

“But that’s not possible, Sehun has a license and everything, how could it possibly be that he wasn’t registered in the government files? There must have been some kind of error.” Yixing always brought over the strangest stories, but this was the strangest by far.

“I didn’t believe him at first anyways, but he swore to me, he promised me he wasn’t lying. And he sent me the file too, of the Oh Sehun that he found. And there was something queer about him. Something very strange.”

“And what was that?”

“His picture had an uncanny resemblance to Sehun.”

Something tickled at the edge of Luhan’s memory. He had forgotten something, something very important, something from a long time ago. What was it?

“Plus he was a son of a clockmaker. He had a fascination with clocks, just like Sehun does. But he died at a young age, five, in a machinery accident.”

“I met Sehun at five years old.” Yes, Luhan definitely had forgotten something from a long time ago, it was something that Sehun had told him—“But there’s no way that they could be the same person could it be? No, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“I didn’t think so either.” Yixing shakes his head almost helplessly “I thought maybe a relative but—I don’t know Luhan, I thought it was right for me to tell you.” It was, Yixing had pulled up a memory, something from a long time ago, something that Luhan struggled now to remember because it was important.

“Yes,” Luhan manages softly “Thank you for telling me. But I doubt there’s anything of it, most likely a mistake.” But his head continues to spin, and even after Yixing leaves, having burst into tears because he too understands, Luhan thinks. And finally, somewhere around the dredges of midnight, he remembers. And when Sehun comes home a mere hour later, Luhan’s up waiting for him. The other looks exhausted, his cheeks are pale and he looks like he’s been crying. Even wrinkled and old, Sehun is still Luhan’s angel, but this time it’s Luhan that embraces Sehun.

“Did you finish it? Your last clock I mean?” Soft, quiet words, Luhan is so very tired. But for Sehun, he has to do this.

“I finished it, yes.” Sehun sounds weary, his voice is hoarse. “It’s all done. But Luhan, why are you up so late? Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”

“I was waiting for you. Something about going to sleep without you felt wrong. I had a feeling that this was the last time I would ever see you before I went to sleep.” Sehun stiffens, and Luhan knows that he’s about to break.

“You’re not going to die yet. You’re not going to die, it’s not your time yet.”

“But it is, Sehun, and you know that as well as anyone. My time on this world is over, my legacy has been cemented into stone and now it’s time for me to leave this world. I am happy, I am content, I have friends, I have a beautiful daughter, and most of all, I have you Sehun. What else could a man like me ask for?”

“More time, you could ask for more time. All beings want more time.”

“But why ask for more time, when I already have enough time.” Gently, Luhan presses a kiss on Sehun’s cheek. And Luhan wonders if Sehun knows, if Sehun remembers what he had told Luhan all those years ago. “I am a happy man. I have lived my life to the fullest, and if anyone should know it’s about time for me to go, it should be you.”

A soft inhale. Sehun raises his head “You remember.”

“I forget. And then I remembered yes. Your name, your true name. I didn’t remember until Yixing said something. But now I remember, I remember who you are, and before I say your name, might I be able to ask you something?”

“Yes, anything, of course.”

“Did the Oh Sehun I knew ever exist?”

A smile. Sehun had known Luhan would ask that. “I am Oh Sehun and I will always be Oh Sehun. Your Oh Sehun.”

“Then I am happy and content knowing that I lived my life with the love of my life Oh Sehun, though he is not truly the real Oh Sehun. The real Oh Sehun died two hundred years back, and the Oh Sehun that I know now is truly known by another name. Time, is that not right?”

The smallest of nods. A small smile as Sehun offers Luhan a gentle touch of his fingers “Oh Sehun, given another chance to live as time. Given a chance to live as a human, as a friend, as a lover, as a teacher. Time manifested in its truest form. And now Luhan, that you have cemented yourself in history, as you have made yourself someone worth being remembered, my job is done. I have no more left to teach you. And as it is your time to go, it is my time as well.”

“Will I see you though?” such an innocent question, but Luhan couldn’t help but ask. Sehun after all, was still his Oh Sehun. “After we’re both gone?”

“Luhan, you are forever woven into the fabric of time. You will forever be remembered in history, time will remember you as a great man. Our fates our intertwined now, don’t think I’ll let you go that easily.”

“And you’ll stay with me this night?”

“I’ll stay with you forever.”

Forever. For no matter what, time always continued to flow. Gently, Luhan lays his head down on the pillow, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, Oh Sehun.” The softest of whispers.

“I love you too, Luhan, and I will always love you.”

A single tear.

And then, he’s gone.

--

The next day, its Sehun that finds Luhan has died in his sleep. He stays some days to attend the funeral, comforting his grieving daughter though his own heart feels like it’s about to explode. But eventually, Sehun knows that it is time for him to go as well. And gently, the Oh Sehun that the world knew ceased to be. Those that knew him remembered him as a great man, but only vaguely, not as they remembered Luhan, the man that would live on for generations to come. Those that had bought Sehun’s clocks would forever admire the man that built them for they never seemed to break, but they would not remember his name. All traces of Oh Sehun would gradually disappear, though Chaoxing would pass on the story of her extraordinary parents for years to come. But while Oh Luhan was remembered, Oh Sehun was gradually forgotten, for he had never existed in the first place. But somewhere in the fabric of time, there had been an Oh Sehun, and somewhere in the fabric of time, Sehun and Luhan had found each other again, and somewhere in the fabric of time, they had existed and they continued to exist. So while many didn’t remember Sehun as they did Luhan, Sehun’s work had been enough to cement Luhan in time so that he continued to exist, just as the everlasting memory of Oh Sehun had given the boy that had taught Luhan to live another chance to breathe. Somewhere in the realm of time they exist still, forever spending their days together, and time now went in search of another extraordinary teacher whose life had ended too short, for another extraordinary student destined to do great things in the world and cement themselves in time.

And so, time continued to flow.