A large tree sat in Yixings front yard. He didn't know what kind of tree, or how old it was, all he knew was that he could climb it and be hidden. He discoverd the trees lovely trait the first day he moved in. He tried to be happy around his mother, because she gave up alot to be with him. But he couldn't hold his facade for long, before running out into the street, searching for somewhere to just be alone. And that was when he noticed the large tree. Yixing had always been good at climbing, so he was up and sitting; catching his breath, within two minutes. Ever since then, the tree was where he would find himself whenever he had a panic attack. 

His mother probably knew about it, but she pretended to Yixing that she didn't. Maybe because she thought he saw it as his own. His own place where only he could venture. Kind of like a secret hideout. So that's where Yixing found himself. Crouched in between the schrubbery of the branches, head between his knees. He hadn't freaked out like this for a while now, and his mother was half expecting it that morning. But when he ran past the window; discarding his bag and jacket without stopping, and clambered up the tree, she felt something had changed. Mrs Zhang knew that her boy had scarrings from his father, and she knew that he sometimes just needed to be alone. She accepted that whole-heartedly. But usually when he scaled the tree, he would shed his phone aswell. Today Yixing didn't reach for his pocket to dispose of it like the rest of his belongings. This made Mrs Zhang smile highly into her cup of tea, concluding that the only reason he didn't get rid of it, was so that he could still have contact. Which according to one of psychologists meant that he felt a feeling that is completely new, and didn't know how to express it. He was getting better.

Yixing cradled his head on his knees, between his hands, quietly bobbing. He didn't like undivided attention. He didn't like people looking at him, noticing him or speaking to him. He felt a pang nausea everytime someone even breathed in his direction. He never used to be like this, and he knew that. He fondly rememberd running a muck with his bestfriend back in China. They were two little hell raisers, always getting into trouble and laughing. He was happy, truly happy. He momentarily wondered if maybe he could ever return to China. He lived well off in Korea, he knew the language easily and he was doing fine in school. He had no particular reason to hate being there. He'd been away from China for almost a year now and he'd never thought about going back until now. He moved his hands to his pockets of his jumper, grabbing onto the foreign object inside. Yixing lifted his face, creating his usual stoic facial expression, and stared at his phone. For some reason, he'd held onto it this time, instead of discarding it along with his backpack. The quiet boy scrolled through his contacts; of which their were only few. His mother, his chinese best friend and the contacts included with the sim. He used to have many more, more friends, more family. But his international descent meant that he would never seen any of them again. So why pain himself by having the temptation to contact them?

He quietly watched the birds soar around the sky with jealousy. They could fly away from whatever is bothering them and be alone if they want to. It was so simple. The boy stared up at the sky, his hand now joinin