“All of this has happened before, and it will all happen again.”

― J.M. Barrie

~

“Miss Kim?” Seungkwan peeked into the small reading room where the headmistress was reading a tattered old book. She looked up and adjusted the glasses on her face before marking her page, closing the cover, and setting it to the side.

The wrinkles between her eyes were more prominent than the day before, cluing Seungkwan into the fact that she had been stressed about something recently. After turning 13, he liked to think he was more observant of things like that but then again maybe he’d always been that way when it came to Miss Kim.

“The others and I were wondering if you’d let us stay up late tonight and build a fortress out of blankets!”

By the way her lips quirked up and a small exhale of relief escaped her nose, Seungkwan was sure that she would say yes. However, she had always been a stubborn woman.

“What have you rascals done to deserve such a treat, hm?” She teased and stood up to walk over to the boy. His height had finally reached to a little past her chest, but that was while she was wearing heels. He glanced down to notice he was subconsciously lifting himself up onto his toes like a child. Seungkwan lowered himself back down.

“Well, we all worked hard today and we’ve nothing to do tomorrow and it’s been so long since we’ve been able to have fun together…”

“Hm, everything is all about fun to kids your age…” She patted down his hair and then walked past him and out into the hallway where Seungkwan followed. “That’s a good thing to keep.”

“So, you’ll say yes?”

“If you all keep as quiet as possible,” she motioned to the chairs in the classroom to her right. “Then I’ll give you permission to use these to hold up the blankets. Deal?”

Seungkwan jumped up and nodded his head, “Yes Miss it’s a deal!”

~

A good hour later and all the boys were huddled up underneath a large, elaborate sheet fortress with their blankets piled beneath.

“Wow, you’d think we owned a furnace by sitting all of us in here like this!” Haeil snuggled up underneath the blankets and hummed excitedly.

A small corner was cleared out so they could light their lamp, Chan pretended to heat his hands against the covered flame like it was a fireplace. “If Sanha was here it’d be even more warm than it is now!”

“That’s right,” Hansol remembered sadly. “Sanha must be freezing in that bed downstairs.”

“Can’t we visit him just once?” Minhyuk pleaded, gazing into the eyes of his brothers who so desperately wanted to do the same.

“Absolutely not.” Haeil shook his head and sat straight up like a pin. The look in his eyes betrayed his true feelings, but as the oldest he was technically still in charge of everyone else’s safety. Not even Miss Kim ventured into Sanha’s room very often. What could that effect have on someone as young as them?

Jihoon’s jaw tightened and his lips pursed together, “This damned world. If sickness was a real person I’d kill it and get rid of it once and for all.”

“If Miss Kim caught you using that language...” Soonyoung warned and huddled his legs close to his body.

Jihoon shrugged, peeling off a stale piece of sweet bread from the pile in the middle. “Well, I meant what I said.”

“It’s not fair.” Chan whispered, and by the light of the flame they all watched as a few tears dripped down the boy’s face and right into his lap.

Seungkwan looked around at all their faces and wondered what exactly it would take to make them all happy again. Not just for a few hours, not just for a day, but forever. They created this fort so that they could have fun and not have to deal with the outside world anymore. Maybe, Seungkwan thought, maybe the problems were deep inside of them now. Maybe they weren’t just outside problems anymore, but they had wriggled their way into the hearts and minds of his young brothers.

“We’re supposed to be having fun.” Seungkwan mumbled, but even his eyes had begun to tear up. Hansol comforted him, for once they were both warm.

Haeil closed his eyes, shooing away all the bad memories and the look on Sanha’s face when they told him he’d be contained. As the oldest he was supposed to protect the younger ones from harm. “What’s fun in this world anymore? I feel like we’re on a lonesome planet.”

“A lonesome planet would be better than here. At least there people wouldn’t be trying to kill us with bombs.”

“Look at us, a bunch of kids talking about things like this.” Seungkwan sobbed, wiping his snotty tears from his face.

“Shh, if you cry loudly Miss Kim will hear.” Hansol hugged him tightly to himself and fought the urge to join in on his sorrow.

“Guys, I was wondering something…” Everyone looked to Soonyoung who seemed like he was lost deep in thought. The calculating, far away look in his eyes caused everyone to settle down. “If this is only the beginning then what will happen to us when we’re in the middle of all the chaos? The only place to get food now is from west town near the port and we all overheard Miss Kim mention the price of just a few vegetables.”

“We can’t even afford medicine for Sanha, let alone food for ourselves.”

Jihoon looked around at everyone’s solemn faces. His eyes focused on the off-white sheets that lay on the floor. “Maybe it would be better,” he wiped the tears from his face discreetly, “if those bombs-”

“Don’t say it.” Haeil growled.

As the oldest he needed to stop him, but deep down he agreed.

All of them did.

~

In the morning they woke to find that they all had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, warm. The dim light from the window cast a shadowy gleam over their fortress. Haeil was awake first and he took the careful time to remove the elaborate sheet over their bodies. One by one, as it was removed they woke up and had forgotten mostly about what they had talked about last night but the ache in their hearts was still there. Somehow, it had creeped in and nested a home for itself like a patient mother bird.

They went downstairs to find that Miss Kim was in her little reading room looking over pristine white pieces of paper that were tucked into a folder. There was no breakfast, there was no food, not even leftover stale bread.

She noticed them all huddled around her door and she quickly tucked away all the papers, “You’re all up early. Did something happen?” She asked and ushered them away from the office and into the roomy living area.

“No Miss, we just had a good rest last night, I guess.” Seungkwan stretched and yawned, with the other boy’s following in unison. They all nodded their heads.

“Well, I’m sorry to say that I couldn’t prepare breakfast today.” She smiled sadly. “I set out some material for you to read for this morning.”

Minhyuk frowned and tilted his head, “When can we eat?” Seungkwan glanced over and down at the boy. He was clutching his stomach that was already very thin and empty.

Miss Kim hesitated, “I have nothing prepared until dinner.”

Chan opened his mouth but Haeil clamped a hand over him and tugged him into his side. He smiled at the headmistress and looked into the living room where three books were set out with their old study notes next to them. “We’ll go study for now then.”

“Please do your best under the circumstances.” She patted Haeil’s back and he ushered them all into the living room.

Chan wrestled out of Haeil’s grip and was the first to dive into the books even though he couldn’t read very well. He wrenched open the pages and looked at all the pictures that we’re illustrated inside.

“Be gentle, Chan.” Soonyoung sat next to him and peered at the thin pages.

On the cover was written: Clockwork Boy, Pierrot

Seungkwan listened to Haeil read one of the copies aloud, while the others looked at the pictures.

Years ago there lived a clockmaker whose entire existence was given to create watches and clocks. The man was already weak, and old in age, and his hands were so brittle from decades of work.

One night he wept, for he mourned his young dreams. The clockmaker had not loved a wife, nor had he ever raised any children. Not even his clocks were valuable. He cried for all the things he had never done, and when he was all out of tears he came up with a wonderful idea.

He set out to find an apprentice who he could teach, who would take on his work and grow old doing his work, just like he did. Scouring the entire village, he found nothing. Not one boy who wanted to take on his work. Feeling defeated, he left back to his little hut when he heard a cry from a nearby tree. It sounded as if there was a strangling animal or a fearsome bird. The clockmaker hurried over and was met with a harrowing sight.

A small baby, cold and shivering, cried very painfully and sadly in a pile of leaves. The clockmaker jumped and grabbed the shivering baby and held it to his chest. The child was so small and his face so porcelain white that he feared he would die. He hurried back to his little hut and warmed the baby up as much as he could.

    “Oh lonely sufferer, I question what this pure child has done to have this misfortune cast upon him.”

Working through the night, the man did his best to assure that the child lived, and as the days and months passed, the baby grew up. The clockmaker nurtured him just as much as he did his clocks. His patient teachings carved the way the boy grew into a respectful and careful young child of nine.

    “My Pierrot, lovely Pierrot. Learn my work and learn to love it as I have loved you.”

As the clockmaker grew older and older, he continued to teach the boy until he could no longer do so. He instructed him from his bed until the early morning hours and then started once again the next night. He did so until his last days.

The young boy of misfortune continue on until he was a young man and he became even greater than his master once was. Instead of plain clocks, Pierrot created little wooden ticking dolls that he fashioned after himself. His characters became so popular that he had even opened a small shop of which he sold many a day.

He grieved every loss of those dolls because they were like a piece of himself. His unfortunate life had made those dolls and he wondered just how much of himself he was giving away for a small fortune.

One day he met a lovely young girl who came into his shop. The girl looked around at the dolls but she was uninterested. She took one look into Pierrot’s dark eyes and she heard the ticking of a clock.

    “My, you have very pale skin.” The girl wondered.

    “Indeed. My father once said that the wind rubbed off all my colors before he could get to me.”

The girl was confused but she refused to pry. Instead she smiled at him and laughed a little. She looked around once more at the shop and still seemed disinterested. Instead, she pointed at him.

    “Do you have a doll that looks just like you? Or should I ask how much your price is?” She blushed at the insinuation but he didn’t seem as bothered.

    “All of these dolls are fashioned in my image. It’s why they all look so sad.”

She hummed and picked one up to inspect it.

    “I’ll keep coming back then, until one of them is happy.”

The young lady returned the next day, and still there were no happy dolls. She accepted it and left. The day after she came again and searched every nook and cranny of the shop, and still there were no happy dolls. The next month when she visited she became a bit frustrated but her spirit never broke. She continued searching for a happy doll.

Pierrot enjoyed talking to her while she was there, because she had been the most interesting person he’d ever met.

The next year she visited again, and this time she was taller and wore her hair in curls. Pierrot’s heart skipped a beat like a broken clock. She searched the shop briefly and then took some time to talk to him before leaving again. She found no happy dolls.

It took the young girl two years to come back and when she did she was no longer a young girl but a young woman. She was very polite but didn’t stay long, she searched high and low but there was nothing but the same sad dolls with white painted faces.

Years passed, and as Pierrot got older, the lady did as well. She visited once on a rainy day but the dolls were still the same. After that she stopped coming back altogether and Pierrot’s spirit broke. He wondered if she had married or if she had kids.

One fateful evening when Pierrot was cleaning his shop windows he caught sight of a familiar face. She was still beautiful for someone her age. Her hair was in white curls and she stepped into the shop elegantly.

    “Hello there Pierrot.”

    “Madame,” he greeted with a slight head tilt.

    “After all these years and you still have not changed your dolls.” The woman walked around the shop and observed all the dolls with a small head tilt. “I always wondered why you never changed one to be happy, at least for me I wondered if you would.”

    “There was one that was happy, Madame. It changed not for you, but because of you.”

    “Well, where was it?” She asked solemnly. “I’ve searched all this time and never found it.”

    “Right here, Miss. Your eyes searched everywhere but here.” He motioned to himself and when she looked deeply she could see it in his eyes, that where there was once a ticking clock, was now a heartbeat. “Because of you I became a happier man. Seeing you again and again. After all those faces who took pieces of me out the front door of my shop. You always came back, yet took nothing from me.”

The woman cried very hard that day, but she spent the rest of the evening getting to know her lost friend better. She wondered what could have been if she had only seen it. Together they became great friends and she introduced him to her husband and kids.

Pierrot grew old and never found a wife, nor had any children. However he hired an apprentice to finish his work and he was forever remembered, living on in all the dolls that had walked out of his door. They called him Clockwork Boy, Pierrot.

Haeil finished reading and put down the book, Chan’s eyes widened at the ending. “Wow that was kind of sad, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, not even characters in a book get a happy ending anymore.”

“Maybe that’s not a happy ending to you but I think it is. His life began badly but he was happy and was remembered by his work. Besides don’t you think the moral is to stop searching needlessly and look at what’s right in front of you?” Soonyoung asked.

“No, the book was about ponies and finding your destiny.” Jihoon spat sarcastically. “Aren’t we too old for fairytales?”

“Well whatever it is, Miss Kim wants us to write our thoughts about it.”

The boys quieted down to a low murmur as they helped each other sort their thoughts out. Hansol nudged Seungkwan and smiled a bit, “I think you’re a bit like Pierrot.”

Seungkwan looked over at him, laughing a little. “Then that means you're the weird girl from the shop.”

“So be it, as long as I can make you happy.”

He stared at him for awhile and marveled at the truth in his words.

“I hope we get our happy ending. I don’t want us to end up like those people in the books and wonder what could’ve happened.”

Hansol nodded and leaned his head against his shoulder for a bit, “Then I promise I won’t look at anything else but you.”

“Huh?” He scolded Hansol, “What if you miss something important while focusing on me?” He asked.

“Well, you’re all that’s important to me. What could I be missing?”

“Are you guys done being gross over there?” Minhyuk asked and mimicked a vomiting motion. The boys all laughed it off and continued with the assigned work that Miss Kim gave them.

“Hey, why do you think the clockmaker named the boy Pierrot?” Chan asked, with his pencil sticking out of his mouth.

“I think they were referring to the sad character Pierrot, you know like the clowns in the circus?” Haeil said and scribbled something down on his paper.

“How do you spell that?”

“P-i-e-r-r-o-t.”

At that moment Miss Kim peeked her head into the living room to collect their study notes. She instructed them to have some free time while she looked them over.

“Hey guys?” Soonyoung asked, and looked over at his brothers who were lazing around instead of having play time. They didn’t have any energy, especially after missing their breakfast of potatoes and rice.

“Hm.”

“I just had an idea.”

“What is it?”

“What if we perform in west town?” He asked excitedly. “You know how a circus has it’s own acts? We can do something like that! Magic, dancing, singing, maybe even comedy!”

The silence in the room was almost deafening. Almost. Except that Jihoon was laughing his head off.

“Just listen, Seungkwan can sing! I’ve heard him do it before, and he can crack off jokes like nobody’s business!” Soonyoung pointed to Chan and Minhyuk, “We can work on dancing, or- or acrobatics or something? And Hansol can try magic and Haeil can-”

“I wanna throw knives.” Jihoon suggested with his hand up and his arm over his stomach, still jolting with raucous laughter.

“It might sound funny right now but we can get good! People would happily give us a few coins for a simple roadside show.”

The silence suddenly became bearable as everyone shared the same look.

“Well?” Soonyoung asked. Haeil looked at his brother’s faces, and then Jihoon was suddenly filled with dread.

“God, do any of you even know the word embarrassment? Because that’s what you’re gonna be feeling if you go through with this.”

“There’s no jobs, no suitable way to earn money except something like this. Especially for kids our age...and orphans at that.” Haeil stood up, suddenly energized. “Guys, let’s start practicing.”

Soonyoung stood up with him and clapped him on the shoulder and the younger two started getting excited to dance.

“You guys are out of your minds if you think-”

“We’ll let you throw knives,” Haeil said and in a split second Jihoon was up and ready.

“How are we going to explain this to Miss Kim?” Hansol asked worriedly.