​“Yunho, Junsu, wait up!” Changmin whined as he wobbled furiously on his bike. ​

“We should wait for him, Yunho. It’s his first time riding it!” Junsu urged, but the ten-year-old shook his head as he pedaled on ahead. ​

"If he can’t keep up, that’s his fault,” he replied. “He’s such a baby.” So he was only one year older than the other boy, but to him, that might as well have been a generation gap. ​

"You guys!” Changmin called. ​

“Try and catch us!” Yunho hollered over his shoulder.

​“You’re being mean, Yunho,” Junsu snapped. ​

"I’m not! I’m just teaching him how to ride better,” Yunho retorted. “Race you to the end of the street!” ​

Junsu couldn’t resist a challenge, and soon, both boys had forgotten the younger boy as they zipped down the street. Yunho braked hard, grinning at the sound of his rubber wheels screeching on the asphalt as he reached the end of the street and turned around triumphantly. “Ha! I win! Take that Jun-” ​

There was a second set of squealing tires and a panicked scream. He turned around just in time to see Junsu fly off his bike, head snapping backwards, before he landed in a crumpled heap in a bed of purple flowers. ​

Seconds passed by like hours as he watched the driver of the car jump out, yelling something in panic. Changmin dropped his bike and ran towards Junsu, screaming his name at the top of his lungs. ​

And Yunho couldn’t move as his fingers froze around the handlebars. His eyes locked onto Junsu’s slightly open ones and even at ten years old, he knew the glazed look of death.   ​

“It most likely started as post traumatic stress disorder,” Yoochun- his real name was Dr. Park and he was a psychiatrist, specializing in psychosis, though he still insisted on being called Yoochun- explained. “You blamed yourself for the accident, Yunho. You thought that if you hadn’t asked him to race, he wouldn’t have died.” ​

"You were referred to me after several sessions with a child therapist,” Dr. Han, or Hangeng, as he liked to go by, continued, running a hand through his hair. “The child therapist told me that in your mind, the accident had never happened. You did, however, talk about a friend named Jaejoong and how Jaejoong had done something extremely bad.” ​

“Jaejoong…” Yunho murmured. The dark-haired boy with the crayons and the all-knowing smile.

​“The more the therapist insisted Jaejoong didn’t exist, the more real he became to you,” Hangeng continued. “You insisted on staying away from him, claiming he was a bad kid.” ​

“So who was Jaejoong?” Yunho asked. ​

"Someone you created to deal with your guilt,” Hangeng explained. “He contained your memory of the accident, but he would never talk to anyone. Since he couldn’t share the story, you felt safe and it eased your guilt.” He sighed. “I tried every method I could think of, but drugs and counseling didn’t work. Your delusion just grew and grew, until you no longer recognized your other best friend.” ​

Yunho glanced over at Changmin, who hadn’t moved once since they’d been called to Hangeng’s office. ​

Hangeng reached into the desk and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Yunho. It was the rainbow-colored heart he’d seen Jaejoong draw in his delusion, or whatever. “You drew this, Yunho,” Hangeng said softly. “You drew a lot of these at the beginning of your therapy. The colors meant something to you, and through this, you were able to express whatever it is you had repressed. This was a sign to us that you were still in there and that you wanted, but couldn’t, share your story. But later on, you stopped drawing them, and I was afraid we’d lost you for good.” ​

Yunho took the drawing by his fingertips, the cool paper burning into his hand. ​

"I was at a loss for what to do with you,” Hangeng admitted. “Until Dr. Park came along and suggested that we allow you to live out your delusion. It took a year to fully understand everything you believed, as you wouldn’t tell us. But the doctors here were willing to pretend to be your teachers at school, and Changmin’s family was willing to pretend to be your foster family.”

​“Once everything was established, we began the treatment,” Yoochun explained. “We encouraged you to talk to the ‘patients’ you believed you were visiting, Jaejoong and Junsu. We reintroduced these rainbow drawings to you. It opened your eyes to reality and slowly, you worked yourself back from your fantasy world.” He smiled slightly. “Welcome back, Yunho.”

​Yunho buried his face in his hands, barely feeling Changmin’s reassuring hand on his shoulder. Yoochun and Dr. Han watched passively as he slowly looked up, turning his red eyes towards them. “How many years?” he whispered. ​

"I’m sorry?” asked Yoochun. ​

“How much time have I wasted?” Yunho asked. “When I was…lost in this delusion?” ​

"Don’t you dare call it wasted!” Changmin snapped, grabbing Yunho by the shoulder and shaking him. “Don’t you dare!” ​

“I was stuck in a mental hospital all this time!” Yunho yelled.

​“I was stuck here, too!” Changmin hollered. Yunho fell silent as he stared at his best friend, who was practically on the verge of tears. “You weren’t aware of anything, but I was. I was fully conscious of the time going by, and thinking of all the things I wanted to do when I was older, but I couldn’t, because we promised to do everything together when we were older and you weren’t there with me. Six years of feeling lonely at school and here, because even though you were next to me, I knew your weren't really there. I came in here every afternoon right after school, beginning the day after the accident, and stayed until dark. Sometimes you noticed me. Most times, you didn’t.” ​

He took a deep breath, unable to meet Yunho’s eyes as he continued. “There were days when I was sure I’d lost you, just like Junsu, and I wanted to give up. I wanted to leave here and never come back. But they told me to stay.” He nodded at the doctors. “They said that you could be healed. They spent more time with you. They tried everything they could think of. They never stopped trying to help you, even though you cursed and screamed at them without even knowing what you were doing.” ​

Changmin glared at Yunho as he unclenched his fists and let his arms relax at his sides. “So don’t you dare say that your time was wasted while you were here. Because that would mean ours was, too.” ​

"I’m sorry,” Yunho murmured.

​“Don’t be,” Changmin replied. “You’re back now, Yunho. That’s all that matters to me.” He threw his arms around Yunho in a tight hug and the older boy did his best not to squirm away.

​“Changmin deserves much of the credit,” Dr. Han admitted. “He took care of you when the nurses refused to because of how you treated them. Even after you threw up on him.”

​Yunho offered Changmin a tiny smile, a smile that extended to the doctors as well. But then he stopped, and stared out the window. “What is it?” Yoochun asked.

​“It’s…it’s been so long…” he murmured. “And I…” ​

"Your past is not something you can change,” Yoochun said quietly. “And while you may never forget it, it is not something you should dwell on. You’ve been given a second chance, Yunho. Not everyone does, even though everyone deserves one. But there’s a reason that you did.”

​“What’s my reason, Yoochun?” Yunho asked softly, the rainbow heart.

​“That’s for you to find out,” Yoochun replied with a smile. “Don’t waste this chance. Take it, Yunho, and embrace it with everything you have.”