the universe has no edge but you do |

Back at the Byun residence, Haeun led them into the garage once again where the light and dust played together.

“You know,” Baekhyun began, “when you said you had an idea better than playing video games, I kinda hoped you meant your idea was to get revenge on that scary Chinese kid.”

“Baekhyun, you’re terrified of him,” Haeun replied as she began rifling through more odds and ends.  Oh look, a trunk.  But no, it wasn’t there…

“If we had a really, really good plan, I think I could get up the nerve.”

Haeun made a noncommittal noise.

“He’s so freaking vicious.  Like a raccoon.  He probably even has nightmares about himself.  I bet he wakes up at night in a cold sweat thinking about all the horrible things he’s done that day.”

She grunted.  There was a dull metallic thud.

“I mean, think about it.  His teachers probably give him good grades automatically because they’re so scared of him.  That leaves his nights open to go sell drugs and, like, kill people.  He’s probably an assassin.  One of the dirty ones.  Or maybe like a mafia lord.  Maybe the police are looking for him and we could just show them his picture or something and get him locked up in jail…Haeun, what the crap are you doing?”

She huffed and mumbled darkly.  “Definitely not listening to your stupid conspiracy theories.  They don’t even make sense, Baekhyun.  Now help me find this can…”

Baekhyun sniffed.  “My theories make total sense.  You’re just naïve.”  Then he had a thought.  “I bet you have a crush on Huang Zitao.”  A horrible thought.  “Oh my God, do you have a crush on him?  Is that why you don’t hate him?”  Baekhyun looked absolutely scandalized.

She recoiled in surprise and repulsion.  “Gross!  No, Baek.  Gross.  Now, can you please help me find this?”  She looked exasperated and overly warm, black strands of hair sticking to her dainty face and nape.

He gave her suspicious look, but finally dropped to his knees next to her.  “What are we looking for?”  He sounded apprehensive.

“I saw some paint in here earlier.  A gallon of it.”

Baekhyun decided to drop all talk of Huang Zitao.  Normally he could and would go on endlessly about “that Chinese kid” and how annoying he is, but for some reason the topic made him uncomfortable today.  So he just didn’t talk.  Instead he helped her look for paint—God knows what ideas she had for it.

The only noises to be heard were the flutter of cardboard flaps, the scrape of metal on concrete, and the crinkle of tarp.  It wasn’t awkward necessarily, but it was a very different atmosphere from what they were used to.  There were no disagreements, no bickering, no snickering or dumb jokes being made.  He glanced at Haeun.  If she noticed, she wasn’t showing it.

“Aha!  Eureka!” Haeun cried.  She turned to him with a grin, wielding with effort a silver can of what was presumably paint.  Baekhyun abruptly but gently took it from her and walked out into the sunshine with a glum face.

“So what are we going to paint?” he asked brusquely without looking at her.  Please say Tao’s mutt Luhan.

Proudly, she announced, “We’re going to paint the remains of Thaddeus Bueller.”

He gave her a sidelong glance but began making the trek to his backyard anyway.  “If this is your idea of paying respects, we should have just planted flowers and a pinwheel around him.”  He forgot he was supposed to argue that Thaddeus was female and named Cynthia.

“Yeah but paint, Baekhyun,” she said, as if that explained everything.

He rolled his eyes.

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