Yifan was six when his mother decided to move them away from Guangzhou, going north into Hunan. He didn’t really mind, deciding what his mama wanted to do was what he wanted, too. He didn’t even mind when he found that his father wasn’t moving with them. When he asked his mother why it was just the two of them, she answered simply, “Your baba is a mean man, Yifan. He’s a liar, and he’s horrible. I don’t want him to hurt you, okay?”

    Yifan nodded at that, “I don’t want him to hurt you either, Mama.”

    His mother started crying when he said that.

⧫

    Yifan had just turned seven when he met Yixing. He was a dimpled boy with a mess of black hair sitting on his head, and he loved rabbits. In fact, they met because of a stuffed rabbit Yixing had dropped at the park. When he ran after him to give it back, his mother recognized Yixing’s as their neighbor. Yifan ended up befriending the younger boy, solely for that reason. At that point, Yifan was at an age of rebellion, wanting to be seen as a “cool older kid” to Yixing. But whenever Yixing brought his stuffed animals to the front yard to play, Yifan immediately gave in. “This one is named Tian Mao,” Yixing insisted as he shoved the black cat into Yifan’s hands. “He really likes carrots!”

    “Carrots?” Yifan questioned as he set the cat down on the grass.

    “Mhm. Most cats like fish, but Tian Mao is different.”

    “Oh.”

    Yixing picked up the bunny that was in his lap, and gave it to Yifan with a big smile, a crater in his cheek. “This is Lay! He’s my favorite!”

    “Is he lazy?” Yifan asked, petting the top of the toy’s head.

    “He’s really lazy. I couldn’t get him out of bed today. But he really wanted to meet you, gege!”

⧫

    Yifan was twelve when he first really fought with someone. He had hit people in annoyance before, and pulled a lot of hair, but he had never bled before. He definitely never made anyone else bleed. His fist hit the other kid one more time before a teacher finally pried them apart, asking the surrounding kids who threw the first punch. When everyone pointed at Yifan, he was pulled away to the principal’s office.

    “You didn’t have to do that, Yifan,” Yixing said, a rare anger lacing his voice. He peeled open another bandage and pressed it onto Yifan’s cheek. The skin was still slightly moist from the tears he shed when his mother yelled at him. “You’re really stupid! Getting into a fight.”

    “I’m bigger than you. If I didn’t hit him, he would have hit you.”

    “So?”

    “Wow, Yixing.”

    Yixing’s lower lip jutted out as he leaned back in the chair, dropping the box of bandages onto the kitchen table. “It’s not like he learned his lesson.”

    “I told the principal he was making fun of you.”

    “Yixing’s shoulder slumped, “Don’t do it again, Fanfan.”

⧫

    Yifan was fifteen when Yixing came out to him. The younger boy was crying as they sat on Yifan’s bed, the words leaving his mouth as a rush of syllables, as if to not let Yifan understand. But Yifan knew exactly what he said, and he had no idea how to react to it. He pulled Yixing into his arms and felt the tearful gasps run through the other’s body. He didn’t understand why he was crying; it was a big deal. He felt a hot breath through his shirt, and his heart sped up. “Yixing, I have something to tell you, too.”

    Yifan was fifteen was he came out to Yixing. The younger pulled away immediately when the words left Yifan’s mouth, his eyes wide as he stared at him. “You’re… joking, right?”

    “I’m not. I felt like this was a pretty good time to come out too.”

    Yixing laughed out loud and fell back into the hug, a laugh rattling Yifan as well.

⧫

    Yifan was sixteen when he finally started dating Yixing, and it was three months into their relationship that they both had their first kiss. It was the last basketball game of the season, and yifan saw Yixing in the bleachers, cheering beside his mother. Their team won, and almost instantly Yifan was swarmed by his fellow players, patting him on the back and congratulating him for making the winning basket. Yixing was clapping from his seat, a giant smile on his face when he finally met Yifan’s eyes.

    Yixing met him outside the locker room after the game, Yifan’s mother waiting in the car to take both of them to dinner. “Congratulations!” he exclaimed as he threw his arms around Yifan’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug despite the elder still being sweaty.

    “Thanks,” Yifan breathed out, smiling against the top of Yixing’s head.

    He pulled away and smiled up at him. “Come on, your mom’s waiting,” he said as he grabbed Yifan’s wrist, ready to drag him towards the parking lot of the school, but Yifan let his weight prevent Yixing from moving him. The younger looked back at him with a frown and a slight pout. “Let’s go Fanfan.”

    “Can I cool down a bit?” he asked, nodding his head towards a bench. Yixing agreed and sat down with him, his hand travelling down to interlace their fingers. Yifan took a swig from his water bottle before speaking, “Did I do well?”

    “Of course you did! You’re the captain of the team.”

    Yifan smiled and shoved the bottle back into his duffle bag. “You want to play with me sometime?”

    “Will you go easy on me?”
    “No promises,” Yifan said with a smirk, looking at the other from the corner of his eye.

    Yixing slapped his arm playfully with the hand that wasn’t encased. “Don’t look at me like that. Geez, you got a lot more flirtatious after bleaching your hair.”

    The elder laughed and dragged a hand through the blond, nearly orange locks. The black roots were already creeping their way along. “Is that why?”

    A smile was all the other gave him, and Yifan felt his heartbeat drumming at his ribs. “Yixing,” he started, afraid that his voice was going to crack, “Can I kiss you?”

    Yixing flushed a scarlet red with the question, nodded his head slowly. All they had shared before were small peck on the cheek. But when Yifan’s lips met with Yixing’s, all he could imagine wanting were those plump lips.

⧫

    It was the summer before Yifan turned seventeen that he had to break the news to Yixing. His mother and him were moving to Canada before the school year started, and Yifan didn’t even know the reason behind it. All he knew was he would be spending his last year of highschool in Canada, while Yixing spent his last two in China.

    Yixing cried. He cried until he fell asleep in Yifan’s bed. The elder didn’t expect him to react that way at all. All he could do was wrap his arms around the smaller body and ease him into a peaceful rest as his own tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

    It was the night before Yifan got on the plane that he lost his ity. It was slow. To them, it was meaningful. It was, sadly, full of tears. Neither of them knew what was going to happen to their relationship. Neither of them wanted to think about that, anyway.

⧫

    Wu Yifan was nineteen years old when he decided on his future career--to be a lawyer. He was nineteen was he decided he wanted to study in Korea. It was a bold decision, especially since he didn’t speak the language, but he wanted knew scenery. He was getting sick of Toronto, and he didn’t have the heart to go back to China.

    Yifan was twenty-one when he fully established himself in Seoul. He was getting a better hang of the language, and was commuting daily to his college. He always kept to himself, either studying quickly or reading, or simply playing around on his phone. It wasn’t until he was twenty-one that Yifan made his first real friend in Korea, a tanned boy who was staring at his book, Crime and Punishment, over his shoulder. “You can read English? That’s cool. I’ve read that book before,” he said, and Yifan couldn’t help but stare at him. “Are you interested in law?” the boy asked.

    Yifan nodded. “I’m majoring in political science. I plan on becoming a lawyer.”

    “What school do you go to?”

    “Kwang Hee.”

    “No way!” the boy exclaimed, “Me too. I’m Jongin, by the way.”

    “Yifan.”

    Yifan was twenty-two when he had to take the train in the dead of night, and during a horrible rush of rain. It was almost empty when he got on, save for a few people scattered throughout the cab. His jacket which he was using to shield himself from the weather was dripping as he dropped down into a seat. He didn’t pay attention to anyone else, immediately checking his backpack to make sure his essay wasn’t soaked. That paper was the recent he had to stay at the college for so long, and why he was getting home so late. Luckily, it was fine, all of the inked words still in tact. He was going to have to edit and type it when he got home. It was due tomorrow after all-

    “Yifan?”

    The innocent voice and spot-on pronunciation made his head shoot up, finding a younger brunet man sitting across the way. His delicate features had definitely matured in the last five years, but Yifan could never forget that face.

    “Yixing,” he smiled softly, and the other man shot out of his seat and dived into his arms.

    Yifan was twenty-two when he reunited with the boy he gave his heart to at the age of seven.