It was just a normal day. Sunggyu woke up, ate breakfast, and went to school. Nothing was amiss.

Just a normal day. He met up with Howon on the corner of the street, Woohyun joined a block later, and then Dongwoo two seconds before the bus closed its doors.

Sungyeol, Myungsoo, and Sungjong, per usual, already had four seats saved for them. Sunggyu threw himself into the window seat, sighing. More carefully, Howon lowered himself into the seat adjacent.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” he asked. Howon was one of the few people who still used old formalities. New Asia had long disposed of such terms, but old families, such as Howon’s, still brought their children up with respect.

Actually, now that Sunggyu’s thought about it, all of their families were that type. Literally, all seven of them were brought up with honorifics. Not a single one of their classmates, however, were.

“He probably stayed up late watching again,” Woohyun snickered, making no attempt to lower his voice. Everyone knew that ography was disallowed by the government, but since they were minors, they couldn’t really get into any trouble for it.

“Shut your face, Nam Woohyun.” The urge to punch his best friend in the balls was growing exponentially. Sunggyu rubbed his face with his hands. “My parents were fighting again,” he told Howon quietly. Howon nodded, put a hand on his back, and stayed silent.

Howon was the only person Sunggyu ever told these things to. It’s not like he didn’t trust Woohyun, or any of the others, but more that they wouldn’t understand. Howon, he wasn’t like the others. Howon grew up with a father who, more often than not, lost himself in a delirium of alcohol. Similarly, Sunggyu’s father found his escape in tranquilizers.

The others, they just didn’t understand. Dongwoo’s father was a doctor, Woohyun’s mother a pharmacist. Sungyeol and Myungsoo’s parents both worked as technicians, and Sungjong’s parents were laboratory assistants. They had proper jobs, and the parents who didn’t stayed home and took care of the house.

Sunggyu’s mother was a laundry worker, barely making enough to support herself and her son, much less her husband’s drug habit. Howon’s mother was a street sweeper, living mostly off the government’s poverty support.

He and Howon practically lived together. That is, on the streets, at the others’ houses, anywhere but home.

“Hey, hyung, isn’t that your dad?” Sungjong suddenly shouted. Sunggyu’s neck nearly snapped from how fast he looked up, but the youngest wasn’t talking about him.

“Hey, yeah!” Dongwoo stood up to wave out the window. “Dad! What are you doing here?”

They were currently stopped at a stoplight. Dongwoo’s dad waved furiously, face a mask of worry, but the light turned green, and the bus rolled on.

“I wonder what he wanted,” Sungyeol mused. “Maybe you left your lunch at home, hyung.”

Dongwoo’s forehead furrowed, and he sank into the old leather seat, deep in thought. “No,” he answered absently. “Dad doesn’t get worried a lot, and it’s usually Mom who brings me food if I forget it.”

Sunggyu glanced at Howon, who was looking at his best friend worriedly. Silence fell between the group, and even though the sun was out, a chill struck Sunggyu.

He wanted to say something, but Dongwoo’s neutrally dark expression both scared and worried him. As he pondered what to say, the bus arrived at school.

“See you, hyung,” Howon said, giving Sunggyu’s hand a squeeze. “Feel better, and make sure Dongwoo-hyung does too.”

Sunggyu nodded, waving the younger ones off. Dongwoo, however, had already disappeared inside the building, and Sunggyu could only swallow a sigh.

The bell rang, and none of them knew that it would be their last day of school.