Five year old Minho was happily dribbling his same blue soccer ball up and down the front lawn of his house. His Papa had given it to him for his birthday, just like he asked, and he squealed with delight when he ripped off the wrapping paper and saw the very thing he wanted. He hugged his Papa with all the might his little arms could muster, his Mama looking on with immense affection.

“Minho honey, come inside when you feel tired, we have lemonade for you,” Mama called from the kitchen window.

“Okay Mama,” Minho answered, kicking the ball across the yard, causing him to chase it. But the ball rolled out of the yard and down the hill behind the house, “No, wait, come back!” he ran after the ball with his arms extended. The ball kept rolling and rolling, jumping off rocks like a skateboarder off a ramp.

The ball finally stopped in a thicket of berry bushes. Minho stooped and picked up the ball and turned back towards his house.

“Mama! Papa!” Minho cried, racing back to the house. He saw that its quaint white walls were charred black with ash, its charming tiled roof caving in to the flames that was quickly devouring the small home.

Sirens were nearing by the time little Minho reached the backyard. The smoke was so thick it blocked out the sun and choked the boy as he tried to breathe. Large, comforting hands took hold of his small shaking shoulders and carried him to the parked fire truck. Minho shook with sobs as he wailed in desperate agony for his parents.

“Any news on the couple inside?” the fire fighter holding the boy asked another.

The other shook his head, “The flames are too thick. They’re most likely lost by now,” he said sadly.

Minho’s young mind didn’t understand the man’s words, and he wriggled out of his grasp and ran toward the smoking house, “Mama! Papa! Come out! I’m here!” he screamed.

The firefighters just picked him up again and took him to the orphanage, Minho crying and wailing all the way there.

~~~~~~~~~~~                                                

When Minho’s thoughts returned to the present, he felt the light breeze like ice across his wet cheeks. Lifting a hand to his face, he felt the tears pouring out. He looked down and realized that Taemin was hugging him tightly, as if letting go meant the older boy would shatter into a million pieces.

Minho gasped quietly. This was the first time he had lived through a flashback without being taken over by his repeating of words and rocking back and forth. He looked down at the small boy who clung to him, and slowly returned his embrace.

This boy sure was something.

poor bb minho ;;

tell me what you think guys, the ending is coming soon x3

~OTB Out~