“Hey… Luhan, you don’t have to walk me to school,” Sehun began, clutching tightly onto his backpack. Unease crawled in his chest as his hands immediately flew to the camera compartment. Paranoia crept in, and Sehun worried excessively about his water bottle spilling and damaging the camera.

Sehun absently pulled his jacket zipper up and down. Though Sehun’s eyes were focused on Luhan’s bent form hurriedly pulling on his boots, Sehun’s mind lay elsewhere.

Watching Luhan through filtered eyesight, Sehun reminisced back to his earlier school years.

~

School was just another part of Sehun’s day-to-day life; it didn’t treat him very fairly.

Life wasn’t very fair, after all.

Even so, when he was younger, Sehun would always wake up in the morning feeling alleviated by his naïve dreams of finding salvation in the pristine hallways that school was portrayed with in his wishful thoughts. His hopes were crushed every morning, after he realized that he was just Sehun.

And Sehun was just a poor boy with barely enough money to get by.

Ever since preschool, the other kids looked at Sehun differently.

Maybe it was the way he dressed, how he wore the same clothes every day. Perhaps it was how his parents rarely took him to school or picked him up. Worse, maybe it was because Sehun was naturally shy – and with no one approaching him because of his appearance, he became a lonely boy.

Primary school passed with flying colors in terms of Sehun’s academic achievements, but in monochrome in terms of the rest of his life. Back then, Sehun’s family managed to live in a larger condominium; due to unfortunate circumstances, his parents had to drop a few jobs. They were unable to afford the lifestyle which Sehun now considers luxurious.

Fifth grade came and went. It was during this year that Sehun discovered his passion for photography.

Sehun’s science teacher, Mrs. Lee, was a beautiful person. She was kind, understanding, and the only person in the whole school who didn’t judge Sehun. In fact, she doted on him; though it embarrassed Sehun, he secretly loved her compassion. It made him feel like someone really cared about him. Someone outside of his family going out of their way to spare him a glance and talk to him was enough to give Sehun a purpose of existing.

It sounds pretty terrible, but when Sehun’s parents were too busy with their work that was barely enough to support themselves, he was left alone most of the time. At home, they were rarely together as a family; Sehun rode the school bus since his first day of school, and learned how to make instant foods.

Even at school, surrounded by five-hundred other people in the building and twenty other children in his classroom, he was alone.

Mrs. Lee noticed him. She saw more in him than just a timid, quiet boy with unruly hair and a tattered wardrobe.

Mrs. Lee reached out to Sehun one day after class. It was a day that Sehun would never forget.

“Hi, Sehun. Could you come here for a moment?” Mrs. Lee’s kind voice warmly requested. Sehun had lifted his head up from his desk where he drifted off into a fitful slumber, and groggily stood to meet her.

Extending out her slender hand, she gave him a smile. Unsurely, Sehun reached out to clasp her hand.

“Sehun, I’ve noticed that you are a blessed artist. Your artistic talent exceeds everyone in this school,” Mrs. Lee began. Sehun felt his cheeks heat up in surprise.

“How…?”

“I’m sorry for being nosy, but I went through your past school records. After seeing how detailed and professional your diagrams and sketches were for our labs, I decided that you had drawing talent. It was seeing the little doodles you had on the back of your test answer sheets that cemented my assumption.” Sehun’s eyes widened in horror.

“Oh, no, no… I’m so sorry, I forgot to erase those…” Sehun’s hands flew up to his face, and he felt tears of panic begin to well up. He had meant to erase those pictures, but they just flew through the tip of his pencil and onto the paper. His mental images just came flooding out, contaminating the pure world around him.

Mrs. Lee gently placed her hands on top of Sehun’s. Her chamomile perfume calmed Sehun down, and he removed his hands.

“Sehun… You like to draw pictures of your family,” she said quietly.

Feeling his embarrassment spontaneously combust on his face, he nodded wordlessly.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t know if I should delve so deeply into a student’s personal life. I don’t even know if I should say what I’m going to say next. But I’ve always been quite an impetuous person, and I think I’m doing the right thing. Sehun. I’m sorry that you feel lonely, and I want to help you. Just know that if anything if bothering you or if you ever need someone to talk to about anything, I’m here for you. I also wanted to give you something.”

Mrs. Lee bent over her desk as she pulled out a drawer. Reaching into it, she pulled out a shiny, compact red device.

“My son is a nature photographer,” she explained. “He’s in high school now, and he has many other cameras. This is one from when he was in middle school. I’ve noticed that you sometimes draw flowers and trees, and you drew a lot of landscapes back when you were younger. It was just a thought, but I hope that you can have some fun taking pictures. If you need to delete any of his old pictures, don’t think twice about it; everything is saved on a memory card. This case contains everything you need to know about handling the camera, and this cord plugs into any outlet to charge it. Please, have fun with it.”

Sehun was barely able to suppress his tears. For the first time, Sehun broke down and began crying in front of someone. He sobbed, but it wasn’t out of pain; he was crying because he was so unbearably happy.

He thanked her profusely, and she just smiled at him kindly.

Sehun rushed home. When he got to the steps outside his door, he bent down and snapped a picture of the weeds sprouting out of the cracks in the pavement.

When he locked the door and settled into the small room, he began scrolling through the pictures.

All of the pictures are still on that camera, and he has it tucked safely next to his Nikon camera.

~

“Sehun, what inspired you to become a nature photographer?” Luhan asked, while walking at a safe distance apart from Sehun.

Slipping out of his reverie, he smiled gently to himself.

“I met an angel, someone a lot like you. She gave me kindness, and showed me a new kind of hope.”

Luhan tilted his head to one side. “Do I really remind you of an angel, Sehun-ah?”

Sehun chuckled. “You don’t remind me of an angel; you are an angel.”

~

They trudged through the woods and left the barren trees behind them. Out of his peripheral vision, Sehun noticed Luhan shivering every once in a while, despite his unorthodox temperance towards cold weather.

“Luhan, are you cold?” Sehun asked with concern. Luhan was even dressed for the weather today, which was even more alarming.

“I’m… fine. It’s just… not too long now,” Luhan muttered.

“What does that mean? Not too long until what?” Stopping to turn around and hold Luhan in place, Sehun locked him with a worried gaze.

Luhan shivered in Sehun’s gaze and weakly attempted to shrug out of Sehun’s grip. “Nothing… Sehun, you shouldn’t stand so close to me…”

“Why not?” Sehun demanded. “I’m not cold at all.”

It was a lie. Sehun was barely able to keep his teeth from chattering; Luhan felt so much colder than he normally did. But if he could be closer to Luhan for a moment more, he would do anything.

Feeling his audacity spike, Sehun intrepidly clasped his hand around Luhan’s frozen one.

They both shivered at the contact, and Luhan sighed into the heat of Sehun’s palm.

“Sehun, don’t-“

“Luhan, don’t worry. Holding hands are supposed to make people who feel cold warmer,” Sehun assured him. Luhan’s multi-colored beanie brushed against his chin, and he realized how close they were standing together.

Luhan was the first to pull back, but he didn’t let go of Sehun’s hand.

The campus came into view. Luhan tensed, and Sehun swallowed thickly. His time with Luhan would be limited from now on.

“Well… Sehun, have a nice day at school,” Luhan said with a strained smile. “Don’t be afraid; just explain everything to your professors. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Remember to turn on the heater when you get home.”

 Smiling, his nervousness lost in the sea of Luhan’s brown eyes, he nodded.

“Of course. I’ll see you later, Xiao Lu.”

Sehun turned around and walked confidently into the school.

Luhan watched him go, his face burning hotter than he ever thought possible. Sehun had just called him his old nickname from back in China; how Sehun came up with it was a mystery. Nevertheless, it sent pleasant heat spreading throughout Luhan’s body.

Sehun made Luhan feel so warm, a striking contrast from when Luhan was always cold. It was a feeling that Luhan wanted to hold onto and never let go.

Most importantly, Luhan wanted to hold onto Sehun and never let go.

The best things in life are sometimes the most unattainable.

~

Sehun walked away confidently from Luhan without taking another look behind him. He knew that if he saw Luhan again, saw any trace of emotion on Luhan’s face, he would go straight to Luhan and let his efforts in going to university blow away with the wind.

As he neared the entrance, the sparse throngs of students came into view. Not many students were outside, despite the warming winter weather. Sehun breathed out a puff of nervous air, and noticed that he couldn’t see his breath anymore. The weather was warming.

He felt eyes on him, but he forged onwards. The ostracism was beginning the very moment he stepped foot on campus, how wonderful.

Not that he wasn’t used to it.

Keeping his eyes staring straight in front of him and widely curbing any groups of students, Sehun finally managed to enter the university.

Breathing out in relief and wonder, Sehun drank in the sight of the school around him. For a small town like Shaanxi, the university was surprisingly large and ornate. The walls were a hearty gold tone, with gilded accents near the ceiling. Multiple pillars rose from the center of the entrance hall and met the ceiling, converging with an enormous stained-glass window in the center ceiling. Art students sat placidly against the pillars, angling their sketching utensils in front of their desired model for an approximate size to draw on their paper.

As for the models the young artists were drawing, there were too many prospective ones for Sehun to guess. The interior was lavishly decorated, and expelled lucrative tastes. Traditional Chinese dresses sat in glass cases lined against a wall, and beautiful scripture blanketed the floor tiles. Bamboo and silk scrolls donned the walls in some places, the cursive hauntingly beautiful.

Sehun stood there with his mouth gaping slightly at the pristine calmness of his new school. It was exactly how he imagined school to be like in his childhood dreams, only this school was a lot more Chinese and luxurious.

A professional-looking man strode confidently out of the main hallway to Sehun’s left, heading towards the hallway on Sehun’s right. He had sleek, straight brown hair that was parted neatly at the middle of his hairline. A pair of thin, golden circular glasses perched snugly on the bridge of his nose, forming a circular frame around his upturned eyes. His suit was gray and crisp; the obsidian-black tie he had on was tucked neatly into his vest.

As he hurried past Sehun, he accidentally bumped into him. Since Sehun was taller, it merely caught him off guard – the well-dressed, shorter man fell to the ground with an irritated noise.

“Aish, and so early in the morning… I was just on my way to get breakfast, too! Ah,” the man muttered under his breath, but immediately straightened himself out when he caught Sehun’s stare. “I apologize for bumping into you. Seems that I accidentally fell asleep in my lecture hall and stayed there the whole night after my last class… I even skipped dinner, can you believe it? Next time, I’ll see if I can ask a student to wake me up and bring me dinner… Honestly, second semester is the hardest for everyone. It’s starting today, which is why I had to ready all of my lecture materials beforehand – along with the assignments I neglected to grade during winter break. Who can blame me? My mother is an aging beauty, I had to visit her. Ah, I’m sorry. I think I went off on a tangent again. This school must be making me age faster. Who are you? I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Blinking at the man’s long-winded speech, Sehun found his voice.

“Hello, my name is Oh Sehun. I’m a first-year transfer student from South Korea, and I’m here to start my first day of school. Please take care of me.”

The man gave him an incredulous look. He lifted his eyebrows at Sehun, and raised his glasses with his index finger and thumb.

“You do realize that today is the first day of second semester, right? Today is exactly the half-way point in the school year. You’ve missed the first half of your first year of school, if what you’re telling me is accurate.”

Suddenly feeling a furor he had never felt before, Sehun swallowed to keep his ire at bay. Just the mention of doubt towards his personal achievement of university reminded him of all the pain, the personal hell that he had to endure. After all of that, and he was still judged.

Not trusting the firmness of his voice, Sehun swiftly unslung his backpack from his left arm. ping it with his right arm, he tugged out his folder with all of his personal information. Flipping it open to retrieve his schedule, he barely restrained from shoving the paper in the short man’s face.

Intrigued by the production of an official document, the glasses man took it from Sehun’s outstretched arm and perused it.

After a moment, his eyes widened. The circular glasses slipped a little down his nose.

“You’re the student in my class who was absent all year,” he said, almost accusingly. “What made you suddenly show up now? Come on; let’s take you to the office. I’ll get my food later. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Sehun usually wasn’t the type to talk back, but after being irritated by an intruder in his world of silent admiration towards the fine interior decorating, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Mustering up his courage, he spoke eloquently: “And who are you, exactly, that makes you privileged enough to request for a student to go somewhere with you?” Sehun scanned the scrawny man’s figure up and down for emphasis.

Stiffening, he shot Sehun a glare.

“I’m surprised that you haven’t figured it out already; I’m a professor at this school. I’ll be your professor, so I suggest you treat me with some respect. I teach nature photography, as you should know. Since I’m only four years older than my youngest students, I’m addressed by my given name through my personal request. Call me Professor Minseok.”

Sehun raised his eyebrow at the professor in an attempt at mockery.

“You just said you were to be addressed by your given name, so why the “professor” title?”

They stared each other down for a few moments before Minseok broke the tense atmosphere with a chuckle.

“I know, I know. I only use it for first impressions so that it tells my students about my legitimacy; after the first few weeks, everyone calls me Minseok. Otherwise, with the fact that I’m only four years older than you, people wouldn’t take me seriously.”

Surprised with the almost childish response, Sehun smiled back.

“All right, please show me to the office, Professor Minseok. I was told to explain my situation to my professors, and I will follow that advice.”

~

Professor Minseok led Sehun down the vast hallway of the elegant art school. As they ventured deeper into the school, the regal Chinese theme began fading into a more modern monochrome theme, with chic bold stripes streaking across the walls.

“Ah, you must be surprised,” Professor Minseok piped up sheepishly as he walked briskly beside Sehun. “You see, our interior architect is very… interesting. I would describe him as very capricious. He’s prone to sudden changes in design. Just early this year, he was updating the interior design to an elegant Chinese theme, as you saw. Suddenly, he began ranting about black on white and white on black stripes, dots, geometric patterns, and chevron – all of these abstract and modern concepts… He’s quite a nutcase,” the professor relayed fondly. “Just wait until you see the main office up ahead.”

Sure enough, as Sehun lifted his gaze from Minseok’s and followed his directions. He stopped in his tracks, and his mouth widened in astonishment.

“I’d like to think of this as a shrine to me,” Minseok boasted, “given that I’m the head of the botany department of our school. Welcome to the Shaanxi University for the Arts, Oh Sehun.”

The main office sat directly underneath a wide, circular window in the ceiling. Golden sunlight filtered through the air, catching and illuminating particles in the room. Rays of light hit the marble floor.

Surrounding the circular room that was the office was a circle of lush, blooming plants. Bamboo plants rose to the ceiling, and kudzu planters sat on the ledges of the office. On the opposite wall hung an intricate floral arrangement of the words “Shaanxi University for the Arts” in elegant, curving script.

“It’s breathtaking,” Sehun murmured, taking in the highly contrasting interior. Minseok chuckled at Sehun’s honest remark.

“Normally, if anyone ever mentioned such a thing as having multiple, highly contrasting themes in a building, the idea would be immediately refuted. Especially since this building is the highly praised and well-known Shaanxi University for the Arts. Although we’re a small town, many students flock to this school because we taught many successful artists.” Minseok’s face inexplicably fell, but not enough for the change in his composure to be too obvious to Sehun. However, Sehun noticed the change in mood, and pulled his attention away from the interior designs.

“Let’s get you enrolled and figured out, Sehun.”

~

Minseok pushed the door of the office open, and Sehun followed him inside. Gentle piano music was playing in the background, and the receptionist sitting at the front desk stirred placidly at his drink.

Slowly glancing up as the tinkling of wind-chimes signaled their arrival, the man greeted Professor Minseok with a smile.

“Min! What are you doing here? I have your breakfast right here, packed all of your favorites. I keep telling you to come home after your lectures are over, I can help you with the paperwork…”

Professor Minseok scowled at the receptionist, but his cheeks turned a noticeable shade of pink under his large glasses. The man sitting behind the desk pushed his large, square glasses up the bridge of his nose before turning to Sehun.

“Ah, hello there. Who are you?”

Shuffling his feet, Sehun, murmured, “I’m a new first-year student at this school. Please take care of me.”

Professor Minseok scoffed before tugging Sehun along by his elbow. He plopped into a seat facing the receptionist, and Sehun followed suit.

“He wasn’t nearly as demure and courteous with me earlier,” Professor Minseok explained to the amused receptionist.

“Now, now. No need to take it personally. So, who are you? I may have heard of a specific student coming in later this year with all of their credentials, but I need to see if it’s you. Do you have your materials with you?”
Sehun nodded, and handed the man the files he had shown Professor Minseok earlier. The man scanned them from behind his black frames, and turned to his computer. Pattering noises could be heard from his fluid typing. Sehun cautiously slid the folder back towards him, and checked for all of his credentials.

“Oh Sehun, 19 years old. You’re the recipient of a full scholarship to our school, and the negligent individual who never showed up to class. We expected you to come, and now you do – halfway through the year. You came all the way from South Korea, hm? You must be very talented; we haven’t had a transfer student in years. Not to mention you were granted full scholarship. Now, care to tell us why you didn’t attend school in the fall?”

Sehun swallowed thickly. He felt out of place the moment he stepped into this lavish building. Admitting his social standing in such a place was just kicking dirt over his own grave. 

“I… had to work a lot to save up money to get here. M-my parents died in a car crash last year… We always had a lot of debt and loans, and just enough money to use up at the end of every day. I dropped out of my last year of high school and homeschooled myself. I managed to earn all of my credits to graduate, and I applied to every arts university in South Korea that I could afford to. After applying, I had to work multiple shifts at several different places to earn enough money to buy food and drink. Shortly after the school year ended, I received an envelope with enrollment files from this school. I had to fit even more shifts into my schedule to pay for rent and the transportation from Seoul to Shaanxi. There… were a lot of times where I had to go days without sleep in a row… But my goal was to save up enough money and pay off my rent as much as I could before winter break. I’m really sorry for inconveniencing you, Professor Minseok, and the school… Please, please let me attend school here. I’ll work as hard as I can to complete my assignments and earn the credits I should’ve gotten during the first semester. Please, I’ll do anything.”

Sehun’s face burned with shame as he relayed his story to the intently listening men. He could feel how they scrutinized him, and he shivered.

A warm hand on his shoulder made Sehun flinch, and he met Professor Minseok’s kind gaze.

“No need to apologize, Sehun. You’ve worked so hard, and frankly, I’m honored to have the chance to teach such a tenacious student.”

“That’s right,” the receptionist added, smiling warmly at Sehun. “You are an amazing person, Sehun. On top of your packed work schedule, you even managed to learn flawless Mandarin.” He chuckled to himself. “To be honest, you speak better than I do. I’m still struggling with speaking more complex Chinese.”

Sehun flushed at the compliment. The rosy red on his cheeks was the only sign that gave away emotion; his face was set in its usual stone face.

“Th-thank you very much… I’ve been learning it since my first year of high school. My last shift of the day has always been at a Chinese restaurant in Seoul… The manager was a kind Chinese woman, and she often taught me Chinese after my shift was over. She told me that one day, I would probably need to use Chinese. Without her, I would never have made it so far.”

“Hm… It seems as if someone recommended you to this school. Could your noona have been a woman by the name of Mrs. Wu?” Professor Minseok asked, finger placed on a specific line on Sehun’s college application.

Eyes widening in utter surprise, Sehun nodded weakly. “She… Oh, oh… Thank you, Mrs. Wu… Thank you so much…” A heavy sensation rose from his chest, and he resisted the strong urge to cry. Eventually, his unstable emotions took over; sleek, hot tears cascaded from his eyes and onto the surface of the front desk. He covered his face with his hands. Wishing that he could convey his gratitude somehow, he promised that he would properly thank her one day.

Professor Minseok rubbed Sehun’s back soothingly. More light tapping noises echoed through the calm room as the receptionist typed on the computer.

“I’m sorry for the late introduction, but my name is Kim Jongdae. I work as the primary office attendant in this school. I’m also the secretary. Professor Minseok and I are the same age; we both graduated from this school.”

Sehun nodded mutely at Jongdae’s introduction. He heard Professor Minseok shuffle his paperwork and clear his throat.

“Now, about how you’re going to make up for your missing assignments. It’ll be impossible for you to juggle those from first semester along with the projects and homework you’ll receive this semester. Like I’ve told you, second semester is the hardest. The workload is the most demanding. However, you need those credits to graduate. Depending on how advanced you are as a photographer, I can go about different ways to help you. Do you have a portfolio with you right now?”

Nodding, Sehun reached into his backpack and gently pulled out the red Canon camera he received as a gift seven years ago. After that, he reverently pulled out his Nikon camera from his tattered backpack. He also reached into the bag and extricated multiple Kodak folders of printed pictures from disposable cameras.

“Please look through my pictures. I’m sorry that the pictures on the two cameras aren’t in physical form… I couldn’t afford to print any more pictures…”

Professor Minseok and Jongdae’s eyes widened at the sight of his Nikon camera. Gently, Professor Minseok lifted his Kodak picture folders and perused the well-cared for stack. Jongdae’s eyes stayed glued to his thousand-dollar camera.

“How-“ Sehun smiled softly to himself at their justified bewilderment.

“To be honest, I’m not so sure myself. Now that I really think about it, it was their parting gift to me. Somehow… this was able to be gifted to me. Sometimes, I think it’s a blessing from the gods.” Sehun sniffed quietly, and ducked his head. He wiped his eyes with a hand before murmuring, “How could they have left? Mom… Dad… I wish they knew that I made it to university…” Sobbing quietly, he leaned into the face of the desk. The cotton of his long-sleeve shirt absorbed his grief, and the wetness clung to his face.

“Sehun, don’t cry,” Professor Minseok’s shockingly articulate voice broke the blue atmosphere of the room. “You… I’m speechless. These photographs are amazing. These are state-of-the-art quality. I can’t believe that a student took these pictures with a disposable camera. Sehun, you are a talent so rare, so promising. I’ve decided that I’ll give you lessons every day after school for two hours; that’s as long as every one of the classes you’ll have with me daily. We’ll cover semester one and semester two, and you’ll gain all of the credits you need. I look forward to working with you. Your first day of school starts today, and your first class with me starts in half an hour. Jongdae will show you around the school while I prepare my lecture materials. Come to my room at two in the afternoon – I’ll look through all of your pictures then.”