The ice welcomed him, a slow smooth glide onto a tenuous surface, not so solid as earth, not so thin as air. The blades of his skates, custom-fit, sleek and black, sliced sharp lines into that perfect expanse of white. Each ice dance was a fingerprint, a snowflake, unique unto itself, etched into freshly slicked ice, a clean slate.

Luhan lifted his hands to his sides and glided around that cultivated arena of ice that was so much cleaner and smoother than the pond they'd played on a decade before, slipping and sliding on sneakers, three seconds and a scream from danger. A faint smile touched his lips.

A soft white shirt whipped about his torso, and his hair glinted gold in the arena lights. Cameras trained their digital eyes on him, the world watched, and the music began. He glided to a halt at the center of the ice and let his arms drop to his sides as he tilted his head back and felt the slight caress of air against his throat.

As the music swelled and he lifted his arms, he thought, I would like to fly.

***

"I would like to fly," said Oh Sehun on a sunny Saturday evening one June. He climbed up on the stone wall of the little plot of land Luhan's mother cultivated as a garden, all scuffed knobby knees, gangly limbs and unruly hair as he spread his arms to the sides like a bird, or a plane, or Superman.

Luhan glanced up from his biology homework. "You could get on a plane," he laughed, pointing to the white trails that streaked the sky. A stunning summer sunset stretched over the hilltop house, knit with fine threads of white across a golden pink vista.

"That means I have to go somewhere," Sehun wrinkled his nose. "I just want to fly."

"Luhan!" a woman's voice called from the house. "Dinner!"

"I have to go," Luhan told Sehun as he slipped off the stone wall and left his schoolbooks there as a reminder to return. Sehun was still staring at the sky with a pensive expression. "I'll come back after I eat."

***

Though his coach strongly advised against it, Luhan preferred practicing at the local pond rather than the rink. To please her, he did his due diligence during the day at the rink but when he took to the ice for himself, he did so under the open sky - where he truly felt like he was flying.

He especially loved the pond at dusk when the children and their mothers were gone, and the ice was his alone. Under twilit stars and the faint wink of city lights, he spun and twirled through the air, delighting in the crisp whisk of wind about his ears as he took an axel jump into a 3-turn and executed a perfect double lutz.

He heard applause, and there at the edge of the ice was Sehun, skinny limbed in a puffy parka, clapping for him. His breath puffed white before his pink-cheeked face as he coughed on bitter winter air. The tip of his nose was red with cold, but he was smiling that smile that chased every cloud from his countenance and made him shine brighter than the sun.

"You're flying!" Sehun said, giving him a cheery thumbs up from the sidelines. "I'm jealous!"

"Come fly with me!" Luhan laughed into the thin air and held out his hands.

***

"You see that tree?" Sehun pointed up ahead to the flowering tree that crested the hill where Luhan lived. The tree was silhouetted black against the evening sun. "That tree has been there since I can remember. It takes leaves in the summer and goes black in winter, but it's always there, at the top of this hill."

Luhan rested his chin on Sehun's shoulder and slid his gaze sideways. "You're so wise for your age," he teased and blew in Sehun's ear.

Sehun wrinkled his nose and drew his shoulder up, cringing. He coughed into the crook of his elbow. "Maybe you're immature for your age, Xiao Lu." He turned his head and pouted, making big eyes at Luhan, as if to say, what now?

Luhan blew in his face and rubbed the tip of his nose against Sehun's, settling his arms more tightly around Sehun's thin waist. "Ok fine, what about the tree."

"Without the wind, the tree wouldn't be there. The wind blew the seed that birthed the tree, and it brings the weather that warms it in spring and gives it leaves, and the cold winds of winter that strip it bare." Sehun explained. "It brings the birds that live in the tree, and it shakes the flowers that blossom from it down--" he looked around them, at the pale whitish-pink petaled earth, carrying a slightly sweetened scent. "--onto us."

"The tree needs the wind," Luhan agreed, pouting faintly as he gazed up into its gnarled boughs. "What about the wind? What's it to him?"

Sehun's spindly hands wrapped around Luhan's where they crossed over his stomach. "The tree gives the wind purpose," he said. "Without the tree it would howl pointless and alone across the Earth."

Sehun lifted his eyes and turned his head slightly, catching Luhan's bright eyes in the setting dark. "The tree gives the wind meaning as it comes and goes."

***

"I can't do this anymore." Luhan sat in the advisement office, hands shaking. He was still clutching the textbook he'd had in his hands when he'd run out of some lecture on tuberculosis and nearly revisited his lunch in the hall. His knuckles were white where they curled round the corners of the book.

"Pre-med isn't for everyone. It's a very intensive course." The counselor said gently. "Is there something else you'd rather pursue?"

"I-- I don't know. I think, maybe it's best, I just-- stop. For awhile."

"But you're in excellent standing, Luhan. Is... something else the matter?"

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