Fireworks light the night sky like stars bursting in dazzling showers of colour. Handfuls of diamond dust thrown against the blanket of night. Man-made supernova erupting in the dark, bright enough to tattoo themselves on the back of Sehun's eyes as he watches them. Brief explosions of light that leave nothing but at wisp smoke when they die. The sight brings a smile to his face. A smile, big and wide, that takes hold of all his features turning his eyes into embarrassing crescent moons. A smile that he rarely shows. A smile that comes from his heart.

The blunt, metallic tang of gunpowder residue and the rich, sweet smell of stall foods paint the edges of the air as the heavy summer breeze carries laughter and festive cheer to Sehun's ears. Women whoop and men holler in strained voices as banners, and shrines are carried through the streets to the count of drumbeats and calls. Lanterns swing from roof eves and banner poles to light the path from the river to the temple. A guide for the spirits returning to the town.

From his favourite place on a rolling hill overlooking the river and the town, Sehun watches the lights of the last festival of the season move through the streets like fireflies dancing on water, flanked by flags and streamers flying in the wind. It's breath taking the way the flames of the lanterns flicker and the whole town is painted in the brilliant, intense colours of the fireworks that die just as the light hits Sehun's face. He can feel his chest swell with every crack that splits the night and the cries of awe that follow. He brings his hands to his cup around his mouth and, as a cluster of fireworks shoot up into the sky, caws loud and long, letting the wind carry his voice away.

Summer has come to an end. Tomorrow the season will change and the crisp, autumn wind will roll over the hills and through the streets. So as the night wears on and the dawn draws closer Sehun watches the town farewell to summer.

The wind picks up, whipping Sehun's hair around his face. Strands of his hair beat against his cheek as he watches red and gold comets, trailing tails of silver, explode into crackling plumes of emerald and amber above the town. Around him the wind grows stronger as curtains of azure and cerillion rain down, forcing him to bring his hand to his face and sweep the hair from his eyes. In the brief flickers of light that play over the land the silhouette of a figure catches Sehun's eye.

A young man stands to Sehun's right where no one had stood seconds before, hugging himself against the suddenly bitter, bite of the wind that throws itself around them. The collar of his jacket is turned up and the tails of a yellow and black scarf fly around him wildly. An orange flash of light illuminates them both for a moment as Sehun studies the young man. He feels familiar as though they have meet before, but in the same breath he feels unfamiliar like a distant figure in the background of a forgotten photograph. Someone that Sehun has shared a moment with. A moment that Sehun cannot recall, but some part of him can remember the feeling of.

As though he can feel Sehun's eyes on him, the young man looks back over his shoulder. He returns Sehun's gaze with one of his own from beneath a long, dark fall of hair that meets the scarf drawn over his lower-face. There is something in the way that he looks at Sehun as his hair whips around his eyes that unsettles Sehun. The swell of Sehun's chest tightens suddenly and the strange feeling of familiarity turns into a sharp pain. He's overwhelmed by the urge to reach out to the young man, compelled by those dark, angry eyes on the verge of tears to draw the young man close and hold him to his chest.

Don't cry. I'm right here.

~-~-~

"Sehun!"

With a laboured groan Sehun rolls over taking his blanket with him as reaches for his alarm clock. Eyes still closed, his fingers clip the side of the retro analog clock as the door flies open. It surprises him and he knocks the clock off the side table where it smashes into pieces on the floor.

"Sehun! Get your arse out of bed, now. You're late." Sehun whines, lamenting the death of his third alarm clock this year as a hefty lump of clothing lands on his face, smothering him.

"Uniform. Now!" his step-brother, Kris, barks as a draw is deliberately ripped from Sehun's dresser until it hits the stopper with an obnoxious and entirely unnecessary bang.

"I'm up. Christ!" Sehun curses, sitting up as he pulls the clothes from his face, tossing them to the end of his bed. "Since when did mum make you the boss?" He growls, scratching absently at phantom itches on his chest as he glares at his brother sleepily.

"Since forever." Kris quips shortly, tossing a fresh pair of underwear Sehun's way. They land in Sehun's lap as he sheds the navy tank top he'd been sleeping in. "So get dressed now, or so help me god, I will drop you at the gate ."

"Whatever, I'll catch the bus anyway." Sehun grumbles hooking his arms over his head to stretch the kinks out of his back. With a roll of his shoulders and a satisfying crack of his neck he pauses to watch his brother fishing through his sock draw. "What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"Why aren't you ready, Mr. Drill-Sargent?"

Kris looks over his shoulder and gives Sehun a look that confirms everything Sehun's ever suspected about how stupid his step-brother thinks he is. "I already am"

Sehun gives Kris the once over as he climbs out of bed, reaching for the pile of clothes at the end of his bed. "Yeah, right. Jeans?." He states disbelievingly, absently pulling out his uniform slacks.

Behind him Kris looks down at his off-black, acid wash, straight-cut jeans briefly, seeking out Sehun's problem with them. "What's wrong with them?"

"They're jeans. You looking to get expelled." Sehun flicks the creases out his slacks and pauses. "These aren't mine." He throws the grey slacks at Kris, who barely catches them. His expression clearly confused and on the verge of declaring Sehun insane.

"They are." Kris says, his eyebrows knitting strangely as he throws that pants back to Sehun.

"No. They're your high school unifor-, what are you doing?" Sehun asks as Kris presses the back of his hand to Sehun's forehead.

"No fever." he murmurs to himself as he scrutinises Sehun's face

"Of course not." Sehun protests beating his brother back. "What are yo-"

"What day is it today?"

"Seriously? I don't have a concussion."

"Humour me."

"Monday." Kris shoots Sehun a reprieving look that only Kris is capable of pulling off. "First"

"Month and year."

Sehun rolls his eyes and responds with a sigh. "September, 2010. Happy?"

Kris' expression turns dark and he curses beneath his breath before looking Sehun in the eye. It's unsettling to say the least. "Sehun" He starts, taking Sehun by the shoulders. "What's the last thing you remember?"

At this point Sehun's had about as much of his brother's madness as he can take and it is starting to fray his nerves. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He says bluntly, shrugging Kris off.

"Sehun, it's 2013."

Sehun glares at his brother disbelievingly. Seriously? "It's too early in the morning for this , Kris. Where's my uniform?"

Sehun steps past Kris to get his uniform out of the dresser when he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. To say that Sehun screams blue murder is an understatement. "What the did you do to my hair?" He shrieks as he pulls at tufts of pink, green and blue in his hair. It's brittle with bleach and dyed every damn colour of the rainbow. "You did it." Kris answers, stepping into the reflection. "I had nothing to do with it."

"I..I wouldn't..." Sehun splutters. He's speechless. His head looks like a freakin' unicorn threw up on it.

Kris sighs, crossing his arms. "Welcome to 2013, Sehun. You're in high school now and a walking gay pride parade."