It’s not long after Yifan’s thirteenth birthday that he’s reassigned to another dorm and practice group. Usually, it’s not that big of a deal, but there are only two other people in his group—Joonmyun and Yixing.

Zhang Yixing has been a childhood star since the age of five, and although Yifan’s never heard of him before, he certainly hears the rumors that fly when Yixing joins the company. Yixing has considerable talent in the arts; he can sing, dance, and play the guitar and the piano. He’s successful in all the ways that the TF trainees want to be, and there’s no way he would join TF Entertainment if he wasn’t guaranteed to debut soon.

That fact gives Yifan some comfort, and it’s even better that Joonmyun is there with him. The three of them share an apartment, and they’re encouraged to stick together.

Considering Yixing’s success, Yifan initially thinks of him as an overly confident kid with no desire to make friends. But when Yixing smiles at him—the same smile that has won hearts all over the nation—and offers him a hand after their first dance session together, Yifan has to agree that Yixing is something else.

Maybe it’s because Yixing is still young, but fame hasn’t gotten to Yixing’s head yet. He offers help to the other trainees whenever he can, which is a completely abnormal practice. The trainees tend to form tight groups, and they stick to their own. But Yixing drifts effortlessly from one group to the next, and by the end of his first week in the company, no one has a single bad word to say about him.

Of the three of them, Yifan is the oldest, but he still finds himself looking up to Yixing sometimes, admiring the way he acts around others.

Overall, Yifan is satisfied with the arrangements, especially since it means he can spend more time with Joonmyun, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Most of their days are busy, so even the smallest things count—the way Yifan reminds Joonmyun to get some rest after a long day, or the way Joonmyun’s hand naturally finds Yifan’s as they’re walking from a practice session.

“I’m jealous,” Yixing says, speaking up suddenly, and Yifan looks up from where he’s toweling his hair dry. Yixing sits down on the bed beside Yifan, picking up Yifan’s homework notebook, which is filled with neatly written Chinese characters, and he flips through it idly.

Yifan resumes in toweling his hair, even though he’s surprised by Yixing’s statement, and also by the fact that he’s still awake, since it’s nearly eleven in the evening. “Why?” he asks, shaking his head to get the last of the water out of his hair.

Yixing jumps and laughs softly as he brushes the water droplets off of himself. “Because you and Joonmyun are so close. It’s like—you can have many fans, but it’s hard to find real friends. Friends who will watch your back for you, you know? Those are the ones that you want to keep.” He sets Yifan’s notebook back down on the desk and stands. “Let’s be friends, okay?”

“Sure.” Yifan smiles distractedly as Yixing touches his shoulder on the way out.

After all, weren’t friends the most important, in the end? Sometime over the past two years, Yifan had become friends with Joonmyun. Even though they’d spent nearly every day together, it still surprises him how much Joonmyun has grown over the time. Joonmyun is no longer the Korean kid who doesn’t understand much Mandarin. He speaks it quite fluently now, with a barely noticeable accent, and he’s comfortable with his surroundings.

But maybe the tiring days have begun to wear on them a bit. They’re only human, after all, and young children at that.

It happens that, one autumn day, since his last teacher of the day is absent, Yifan’s released from school about half an hour before Joonmyun. Although Joonmyun is old enough to be in seventh grade, first year of middle school, since he still needed time to adjust to the language when he first got to China, he’s in sixth grade, still finishing his last year of elementary school. That afternoon, it begins raining, and Yifan just happens to have his umbrella. He knows, however, that Joonmyun probably doesn’t have his, and the walk to the bus stop is pretty long. So he ends up standing outside the school gates, holding his umbrella above his head. He stands there for a full thirty minutes, resolutely ignoring the weird stares he receives from those who pass him. An umbrella isn’t enough coverage for thirty minutes of chilling rain, which soaks into his shoes and seeps into his clothing.

By the time Joonmyun is released from class, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, and Yifan feels foolish, standing in the sunny day with an umbrella in his hands.

Joonmyun doesn’t look happy to see him. “What are you doing here?” he asks, for once not greeting Yifan with a bright smile.

“I was… waiting for you. Since it was raining.” Yifan gestures vaguely with his hand, which is still holding the umbrella.

“You don’t have to. It’s not even raining now.” Joonmyun’s tone is unexpectedly sharp, and Yifan blinks at him.

“I just didn’t want you to get sick from the rain.”

“You’re going to get sick now.” Joonmyun must see Yifan’s fallen expression, since he sighs and takes Yifan by the arm. “Let’s go to the bus stop. Just… don’t wait for me next time, okay? Don’t do all this for me if it’s going to harm you.”

“But we’re friends,” Yifan says, closing the umbrella once they’re under the covering of the bus stop.

“Friends don’t do this,” Joonmyun says.

Yifan opens his mouth, and it hangs open for several moments before he realizes that Joonmyun is probably right. He turns to the side, shaking water off his umbrella. “I wanted to,” he says.

“Just don’t next time.” Before Yifan can protest, Joonmyun is already standing. “Come on, the bus is here.”

Yifan follows him into the bus, and they don’t talk as they sit beside each other. They don’t talk about it later, either, but Yifan finds himself thinking about it, probably more than strictly necessary. It’s the first time that Joonmyun’s ever raised his voice around Yifan, and it’s the first time that he’s ever suggested that he doesn’t want Yifan’s help in something. It settles uneasily in Yifan’s brain, and he loses quite a bit of sleep over the matter.

It’s only later that he learns that Joonmyun failed one of his tests at school.

The news of their debut comes unexpectedly, sometime during their winter break.

There’s a festive spirit outside, and there are stores advertising Christmas presents. It’s a great time to be with one’s parents, but most of the TF trainees don’t return home.

Yifan had been disappointed that he’d have to wait until New Year’s break before he could see his family again, but the news that they’re debuting soon makes it all worthwhile. Of course, there’s no telling how soon that will be, but at least there’s a promise now, something to work towards.

If anything, the practicing becomes even more difficult. The three of them are forced to go through more lessons than the usual trainees, and they don’t return to the dorms until late at night, when the weather is freezing and it’s threatening to snow any moment. They don’t get a chance to celebrate the news, since they’re constantly reminded that they can’t celebrate yet. Even if debut is a certainty, they still have to work hard to get there.

“Your nose is so red,” Yifan says one morning, as he’s walking with Joonmyun to the training building. He takes off his own scarf and wraps it around Joonmyun’s neck, making sure to cover up part of his face as well.

Joonmyun looks up. “Thanks,” he says, his words slightly muffled by the fabric.

It’s such a cold day that Yifan wants nothing more than to be burrowed under his blankets with the heater on full blast, but with Joonmyun’s mittened hands in his own, it feels a little warmer.

“What do you want for Christmas?” Yifan asks, as they pass a toy shop with a picture of Santa Claus displayed in the window.

“I don’t really celebrate Christmas,” Joonmyun admits. “But I’d like to return home, to Korea.”

Joonmyun only returns to Korea once or twice a year. It’s partially because his home is so far away, but also because the company doesn’t want Joonmyun to forget the Chinese that he’s learned. It’s cruel for a young child to leave his home so early, but it’s a choice that they’ve all made, and Yifan has never heard Joonmyun mention it.

Now, though, it makes him feel guilty. Even if he can’t visit his family all the time, he still visits them more often than Joonmyun visits his own family. And even when his schedule is too busy, sometimes, his parents will make a special trip to see him.
 

It also means that he can’t give Joonmyun what he really wants for Christmas, and suddenly, the toy cars and other forms of entertainment that they’ve never had much time to enjoy seem meaningless.

“But I’m happy to be here,” Joonmyun says, after a long silence. They’ve already reached the bus stop, and the scarf has slipped off of Joonmyun’s face. Yifan wants to bring it back up so he won’t get sick, but that would mean that he can’t see Joonmyun’s smile. “I’m happy to be with you and Yixing,” he adds.

“That’s so cheesy,” Yifan teases, even as he smiles and squeezes Joonmyun’s hand.

They don’t have much of a Christmas celebration. They end up having a midnight snack together, eating spicy noodles and drinking stickily sweet orange soda while critiquing the movie that’s playing on the television.

“He’s not even really crying,” Yixing says, jabbing his chopsticks in the direction of the screen. “See, his head is just lowered, and he’s barely even sniffling.”

“His cheeks are so red,” Yifan adds. “They put on too much blush.”

“Guys, stop ruining the movie,” Joonmyun says, throwing a pillow in Yixing’s face and stuffing half a cookie into Yifan’s mouth when he opens it.

“But that’s the fun part,” Yixing says, hugging the pillow.

Yifan nods his agreement, while his jaw works furiously to finish the cookie he has in his mouth.

They stay up much later than they’d intended to. It’s nearly two in the morning that Yixing excuses himself, saying that he’s too tired to endure another Christmas movie.

Joonmyun grabs Yifan by the arm before he can leave as well. “Help me clean the table.”

“We can do it tomorrow,” Yifan says, glancing at the small table before the television. There are plastic bowls and wooden chopsticks and empty chip bags littered across the surface, and it’s really not something he wants to deal with right now.

Joonmyun glares at him, like he’s mentally judging Yifan, only it’s not so playful. “Do you want to invite ants into the apartment?”

Leave it to Joonmyun to know all of Yifan’s secret weaknesses. Yifan sighs and helps Joonmyun pick up the trash. “Did you have fun?” he asks softly, once they’re in the kitchen.

Joonmyun washes the chopsticks thoroughly before leaving them out to dry. “I would have enjoyed those movies better if you two weren’t talking so much.”

Yifan nudges him with his elbow. “I’m being serious.”

Joonmyun turns around to face him, and it’s only then that Yifan realizes how small the kitchen is, and how close Joonmyun is standing. He’s grown over the years, but his eyes are still the same—the very eyes that captivated him from the first day and never let him go. “Yeah. I did. I really enjoyed it.”

“That’s good.” Yifan fidgets, his fingers tugging at the hem of his too short T-shirt. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you what you really wanted…”

“Shush.” Joonmyun reaches up and hits Yifan lightly on the side of his head. “This was good enough.”

“But if you’re ever upset…” Yifan bends down a little and takes Joonmyun’s hands in his own. “Just make a wish, okay?”

“A wish?” Joonmyun repeats, looking up at him doubtfully.

“Close your eyes, count up to your favorite number, and make a wish.”

“What if my favorite number is one?” Joonmyun asks, a small smile on his lips, but his eyes are closed.

“Joonmyun.” Yifan feels weirdly foolish right now, but Joonmyun just laughs softly and counts up to ten. A few seconds later, he opens his eyes and smiles.

“Thank you,” he says, and gently takes his hands out of Yifan’s. “It’s getting late.”

“Your favorite number is ten?” Yifan asks as they make their way towards their rooms. It occurs to him then that he doesn’t know much about Joonmyun. He knows his vocal range, what his voice sounds like when he’s sad, and how he likes his noodles, but he doesn’t know any of the basic stuff like his favorite color or his favorite animal.

“Yeah.” Joonmyun pauses outside of his bedroom, and he meets Yifan’s eyes in the dim light. “It’s because I was ten years old when I met you.” He doesn’t give Yifan chance to respond before opening his door. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Yifan says softly, and continues to his own room.

Good night. Wan an. Máahn ōn.