“You weren't supposed to grow up.”

The voice echoed inside the hollowed tree. Namu sat on the dirt floor, with his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth and chewing on the pad of his thumb. A candle flickered behind him, casting his shadow onto the wall, his mocking, jeering shadow. “You weren’t supposed to get older,” the shadow reminded him while it was pacing back and forth on the wall. Its long, dark fingers ruffled its hair in frustration.

“I know,” Namu replied, giving the pad of his thumb a respite. He might as well put it in his mouth and on it like the child he was being, or like the child he was supposed to be. But all children must grow up and put an end to childish behavior and thoughts. He was supposed to be the exception to that rule. He was supposed to be the epitome of youth, joy, the birdling that had just hatched from its shell. Every time he breathed, an adult was supposed to die.

But now he was holding his breath, fearful that with every inhale and exhale, he might be killing himself. Better not to breathe at all.

Namu gasped and coughed, having held his breath for too long. The shadow got on its knees and whispered by Namu’s ear, “Why are you then?”

“The island is dying,” Namu wheezed feeling like he was dying himself. “The magic is gone.”

“Why?” the shadow hissed.

Namu leaned away from the shadow and its cool breath grazing his ear. He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling of the wooden hovel he had carved in a tree. He had done it before the arrival of the other Lost Boys with the help of the fairies from the glen, which was now dim and empty and normal. “Because no one believes anymore,” Namu spoke barely above a whisper but it still echoed throughout the tree ominously. “No one believes in magic. They don't believe in things you can't see. They like realism now. And some strange new magic called science. Even religions are dying.”

“Realism?” the shadow stood up and repeated with a tilt of its head. “That doesn't sound like fun.”

“It isn't,” Namu grumbled as he picked himself up off of the dirt floor. He was walking towards the entrance of the tree, growing weary of this conversation. It was an endless cycle of reprimands and fears coming from the dark corners of his mind. He should just really blow out the candle and plunge the whole room into darkness, swallowing the shadow in it. But that would mean that he’d be entirely alone, and well, he didn’t want that either.

The shadow followed him along the wall, growing larger as it approached the candle, as did its voice. “You're starting to sound like an adult.” It was practically booming, vibrating the whole trunk of a tree. The last word was poisonous venom, making the leaves quake with fear and the hair on Namu’s neck stand on its end.

“I know. I know,” Namu brushed off the venom and stood in the entrance of his home. Feet apart, hands on his hips, eyes to the purple night sky, and a frown on Namu’s face. “Let's fly.” Tone as somber as a eulogy.

The shadow wrapped itself around the entrance and waved to get Namu’s attention. The growing boy looked over. “You can't fly if you aren't happy,” the shadow reminded him.

“I'm content.”

“That's not happy,” the shadow retorted and stuck out its tongue. Then the shadow slithered from the entrance and flew up the trunk, showing off. Spinning around and around the trunk like a toy train on a track, chugging along as it sang:

“The Lost Boy has lost his boys.

The Lost Boy has lost his toys.

He used to have a Wendy as his mother.

But she left, thinking him a bother.

The Lost Boy has lost his boys.

The Lost Boy has lost his ploys.

He used to spend all day being tricky.

But now he stays inside like he’s sick-y.

The Lost Boy has lost his boys.

The Lost Boy has lost his joys.

While Hook lost life ‘n hand to the crocodile.

Namu lost something even worse.

He lost his smile.”

Namu bared his teeth at his bully of a shadow, prepared to grab it when it next passed and storm back inside the tree to sew the damned thing back onto his shoes like Wendy had done. Wendy…a twinge of sadness surged through Namu. Neverland was an emptier place without her, without all of them.

A twig snapped.

Namu immediately threw himself onto the ground. He hadn’t moved from the threshold, and shadows being the shadowy being they are don’t have enough being to snap anything, except for Namu’s waning patience. Someone else was coming. But who it was, Namu didn’t know because there was no one else in Neverland now, except for his single lost soul.

There was a chance that it could’ve been a small woodland creature bumbling about. But the footfalls were growing clearer as the mysterious beast came closer. The branches rustled as it paved its way through. And there was a faint clinking, metals clashing together. Small woodland creatures don’t carry coins in their pockets.

Luckily, Namu was able to catch his shadow and clamped his hand on its mouth. “Shut up! Someone’s coming!” Namu hissed. Crouching, he crawled to the tree roots and then clambered up the trunk, dragging the shadow behind him. Once safely in the branches, Namu let go of it so that he could hold the branches, anchoring himself as he leaned forward. He wanted a better look at the approaching monster. But through his squinting eyes, all he could see were the trees shaking as the beast brushed past them. It must be terrifying for the trees to tremble like that. A creature that nature itself hated.

“Who do you think it is?” the shadow whispered, also leaning forward and finally mimicking the actions of its owner.

“No clue,” Namu snapped back. But it was a lie. He had plenty of clues. The gold coins clanging. The flash of scarlet red. A low hum of a familiar tune. It couldn’t be. Snap! Namu flinched and ducked down, hiding behind the foliage. He was here. Namu motioned to the shadow to be quiet, but it already was holding its hands over its mouth.

The humming rose. The tune was accented by the soft thumps of the leather boots hitting the sod. The gold doubloons clanging in the pockets of the scarlet coat like castanets. Namu’s eyes slowly lifted from the worn leather boots. His heart picked up its pace to the beat of the quick tune. The hem of the coat brushed against the tall grass. Ba-bump. The golden buckles gleamed in the moonlight. Ba-bump. The wide-brimmed hat was tipped by a glistening, sharp hook. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

“Namu! Namu Neulbo?” the man sang along to the tune. “Are you lazing about in your tree, Namu Neulbo? Come out. Come out to play.”

 “Hook,” Namu growled underneath his breath. He gripped the branch tightly, feeling the bark dig into his skin. But he still hid, even in the presence of his nemesis. However that was because…

“He’s supposed to be dead,” the shadow exclaimed. Its hands gripped its dark head, mentally breaking down.

“I know what he’s supposed to be! Sh!” Namu retorted, placing his hand on the tree’s trunk where the shadow’s mouth was. He was wondering if he could sew it shut when he’ll sew the shadow to his feet.

“Are you surprised to see me? Namu, my boy?” Hook taunted below, walking up to the tree. Namu gulped and slowly nodded. As far as he knew, the pirate captain should be crocodile poop by now, food for flies. But this…was this a ghost? But the Captain looked too real, too material. And now the pirate was kicking the trunk of the tree. Namu could feel the vibrations from where he sat. The boy’s eyes widened in shock. The man was real.

“You thought the croc had finished me off, didn’t you?” Hook yelled. “The croc that wanted to eat me after all of these years. Well, it turns out he didn’t like the taste of my hook. I slit him from navel to throat and cut myself out.” He brandished his hook in the air. With each swipe, it flashed like lightening.

However Namu wasn’t scared of lightening or thunder or Hook for that matter. He jumped down from his hiding spot, landing roughly on the sod.  He fixed a smirk on his lips as he straightened himself out. “Pity, he didn’t finish you off,” Namu said with a snarl. “But I guess that means I get to kill you now.” He pulled out his trusty dagger that he had always kept at his side.

“That’s right, my boy,” Hook spoke while he drew out his own sword, raising his hook high in the air as he poised to attack. Namu’s fist clenched more tightly around his dagger and stood stiffly facing the pirate. It had been long since he had sparred with anyone. Suddenly, he was challenged with a duel to the death (because every duel that Namu and Captain Hook had was a duel to the death). Hook tipped his sword and dragged its tip in the grass as he circled around Namu. “Just you and…you?” he ended with a question, after having completed his circle around the boy. His jaw grew slack as his now round eyes looked the boy up and down.

He knows! The Captain knew that something was wrong with the boy, particularly that he wasn’t quite a boy any longer. Namu cleared his throat and raised his dagger, pointing it in between the pirate’s eyes. “What are you doing? Brace yourself!” he commanded. But his voice broke, giving himself away.

“You look different,” Hook stated. The surprise on his face was slowly shifting to joy, joy at his rival’s misery, the sweetest of all to a filthy and cheating pirate.

“N-no. No I don’t,” Namu adamantly denied, stomping his foot onto the ground.

“Yes, you are,” the pirate argued. “You’re taller! And…”

“Be quiet, old man!” Namu cut him off with a shrill shout, but his voice cracked. His tone wavered between high and low. Namu cleared his throat and then lunged, yelling, “And fight me!”

Namu had hoped that he’d catch the pirate off-guard, but Hook was easily able to ward off his blow, as if he were flicking a flea off his coat. Disheartened, Namu made a weak attempt, aiming for the captain’s stomach. Hook easily dodged it with a slight turn. Namu stabbed and stabbed again, but all that was at the other end of the blade was air; it never even grazed the pirate’s flesh or clothes. Suddenly Hook took a few steps backwards, withdrawing from the close-quarters combat. There was a frown on his face, not one of pain but one that pained Namu to see, a look of dissatisfaction. Hook tossed his sword onto the ground.

“And your heart’s not in it,” the elder grumbled, eyes on his downcast sword. He then looked up at Namu. “You’re bored,” it was like he couldn’t believe what he himself was saying.

Namu glowered and sneered, “I’m not!” He then got on his toes, poised to strike like a cobra. His dagger glinted menacingly in the moonlight. “I’m going to kill you,” he growled. Then, he feigned to lunge at the other, just to see what would happen. The captain remained planted in his spot, hands to his side and not even defending himself. The pirate didn’t even flinch. And the sword remained hidden in the tall grass. That was what infuriated Namu the most. “Wh-what are you doing? Pick it up!”

Hook sighed, “It's not fun unless you try.”

“You're an adult! What do you know about fun?” Namu combated with his dagger still raised.

Laughter filled the night air, mocking Namu like everything else had been that night. The captain finally raised his arms, only to shrug. “My boy, adults still can have fun,” Hook revealed.

“No. No they can't,” Namu stammered.

Hook took a step in closer, and Namu took a step back. A step closer, a step back. Another step closer and another back, until Namu had his back up against his precious tree. An evil smile slashed across Hook’s pale face, glistening evilly in the moonlight. “But what to do?” the pirate spoke in a low whisper. “I'm having fun right now.”

Namu lowered his dagger. “You are? Really?” He then cleared his throat and shook his head, dashing away any forbidden fantasies that had bloomed in his still young mind. “This isn't fun,” he snarled raising the dagger to the pirate’s throat. “This is torture.”

However, Hook wasn’t scared in the slightest and was still acting haughty. He still had the upperhand. “Is little boy Namu really toying with the idea of growing up?” he gave voice to all of Namu’s fears and fantasies. 

Namu dug his dagger into the other’s neck. “Never! I will never grow up,” Namu shouted, his voice echoing in the glen. That fortified his heart. The island agreed with him, the island was still his ally. It was still his. He could still have a never.

“It's too late,” Hook dashed all of his hopes. Namu lowered his dagger as the pirate took a half-step in closer, scrutinizing the boy with his dark eyes. He raised his hook and caressed the boy’s cheeks with it. The cool metal felt hot against Namu’s skin, embarrassment burning his whole body. The hook then followed Namu’s increasingly sharpened jawline and lifted his chin so that their gazes could meet. Namu could now see his own reflection in the other’s eyes. And he didn’t like it at all. “You're already a Twelvie. And you might even be past that,” Hook evaluated. He then dropped his hook, only to lean in and whisper into the boy’s ear, “And the rumor is that you forgot how to fly.”

Namu pushed the other off and away. “I can fly,” he argued. He felt a swirling in his gut, a bubbling that was slowly taking over his whole body. He began to twitch excitedly, starting with his toes, to his knees, to his fingers, to his shoulders, until it finally reached the top of his head. Happiness, when was the last time he felt this? He recalled every time that he had proved the ignorant pirate wrong: the first time he flew, the time when Namu had impersonated a pirate for months and Hook didn’t notice, and when he had saved Wendy and killed Hook. To this, he added one more. The happiness that he would gain proving the captain wrong once more at this exact moment.

Namu felt his feet leave the ground. “See!” he announced with some relief in his voice. He was no doing flips in the air, showing off. His usual childlike grin found his face again as he whooped and sailed around the tree. Once near the top of the branches, he tightened his hold on his little dagger and dove straight towards the pirate. “Now let's fight!”

“Alright then,” Hook agreed. His sword had found its way back to his hand. He raised it against the oncoming boy missile. “En guard.”

That happiness was a burst of light in a dark time, like a firework. It was beautiful. It was brilliant. It had filled Namu with such joy. But then…it vanished, leaving behind a trail of smoke, an image of what happiness once was. Namu fell into a depression once again, and things only became worse.

Namu was starting to grow too large for his bed. He hit his head several times against the ever-lowering ceiling of his dwelling. And as he seemed to grow larger, things grew smaller and less impressive. The mountains on the other side of the islands seemed more like hills and not as far off as they once were. The once bottomless lake, well, Woohyun could now touch the muddy bottom (with his head barely above water). The whole island seemed to be shrinking. Was it disappearing into nothingness? Has it finally reached the end of ‘never’?

At times like this, Namu needed to find solace and comfort in others. But who was there? He went to the campsite of the Indian tribe, but all that was left was the dying embers of their bonfire. Namu sat and watched until the red-hot coals grew cold, hoping that someone would come and stoke it. But no one ever did, and neither did he. He just let it die.

He then went to the fairy glen, which once was like a reflection of the night sky with lights twinkling everywhere you looked. Namu didn’t stay there for long. He couldn’t see. It was too dark.

With his spirits dampening, Namu decided to go to the cliffs and dampen his whole body. It had been long since he had last swum with the mermaids. And it would be even longer. Instead of beautiful mermaids with glimmering golden hair, he was met by fat grey blobs of blubber with rough whiskers. They called themselves manatees, but Namu called them ugly, retched, and then left.

The only company that he had left on the entire island, wasn’t desirable. The captain was becoming an increasing annoyance. The pirate kept trying to goad an indifferent Namu into a fight. Hook would infiltrate the treehouse, sometimes with Namu still inside, and steal his knick-knacks. The dastardly man even stole his pan flute. However, now it was coated in dust. Namu couldn’t play. His heart wasn’t in it. There was no happy tune inside of him.

Hook even stole a long blade of grass that Namu had in between his teeth. Thieving pirates must thieve, and if Namu was the only one on the island, then he was Hook’s only target.

However, the pirate did steal something from Namu that bothered him greatly. Something that Namu wanted to get back desperately. It was a title, just merely a name, even if that, but Namu wanted it back all of the same.

Captain Hook stopped calling Namu “my boy.”

“Aish!”

Namu’s eyes watered as he felt the stinging pain grow. He roughly rubbed his eyes and returned to the task at hand, ignoring the tears still welling in his eyes and his shadow jeering at him.

Namu could recalled when the sharp blade of his dagger was used for slitting pirates’ throats. Never had he thought that he’d use it like this, the blade glancing at his own throat, drawing out his own blood. But he needed to do this. The shadow above his upper lip had grown darker. His skin itched as the new hairs sprouted and grew longer. Shaving. What need would a boy have for shaving? Was Namu even still a boy if he did such things?

He sighed and wiped away the blood trying to clot at the corner of his mouth. His hands were too shaky to do this properly and without hurting himself even further. But…but…anything was better than a boy with a mustache. And so he put the blade back to his face.

His shadow clicked its black tongue, watching the scene. “You know, there might be a solution for all of this,” the shadow spoke Namu’s thoughts aloud.

“Eung,” Namu grunted and glared at his own reflection in the mirror. With his newly shaven face, he looked years younger. He smiled. “We need a Wendy.”

Namu left soon after that. He didn’t wait for the sun to rise over the horizon. He didn’t want to wait. He couldn’t wait. The excitement from finding a new Wendy lifted his feet from the ground. He was flying high now, and while he was touching the fluffy clouds with the crest of his hair, he glanced back at the island. It was brown and desolate. The surrounding waters were grey. It was sick.

He sailed past the stars with his shadow at his toes. Zooming past the second star to the right, Namu flew until he could see the shining face of clock tower, greeting him with the usual frown that the clock always did. Namu crowed as he sunk lower so that he could peer through the windows of the large brick buildings that littered the city like tall trees. Namu frowned as he scanned the windows and he felt his feet sinking lower. Funny, all of the bedroom windows were either shut or barred. It was almost like parents didn’t want their children to be whisked away to Neverland.

“Ah! Finally! Perfect!” his shadow shouted. It pointed to a townhouse with its second story windows wide open, the white curtains fluttered in the night breeze.

Namu halted midflight. His feet landed softly on the railing. Once settled, he crouched down and peered into the window, hoping that inside wasn’t a baby or even worse, an adult. His grin widened as his dark eyes laid upon the slumbering youth in the bed. The milky white face shone like a moon in the dark room. Long black bangs stuck onto the round cheeks, flushed and begging to be pinched. Slight buck teeth peaked under the pink as the youth murmured in sleep. This was it. “Just look at how pretty our Wendy is!” Namu whispered excitedly. He glanced over at his shadow who only nodded back. “Oh so now you're silent. What's wrong? Shadow cat's got your tongue?” Namu teased his shadow. “Getting all nervous because Wendy is pretty? OW!” The shadow pushed him into the bedroom. Namu tumbled inside and landed on his bum roughly. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his shadow flying over his head. “Hey! Come back here!” Namu called out at his shadow, scrambling onto his feet. He should be annoyed but he couldn’t help but to smile. This was exactly like last time. His shadow was being insolent, flying about the room, teasing Namu, evading the boy’s grasp whenever he tried to catch it. And now Namu had his back turned towards the foot of the bed, facing the looming shadow in front of him. He raised both hands and got on his tip toes creeping towards it slowly. “I'm going to...Got ya!” He grabbed onto the shadow. He actually caught it! Now what? The shadow shrunk and reattached itself to the bottom of Namu’s shoes without a fight. Now it was a normal shadow, just like anyone else’s. “W-wait!” Namu cried, shaking his feet, trying to stir his shadow to life again, trying to shake it off. But it wouldn’t. The shadow was stuck onto him. “It isn't supposed to be like this,” Namu murmured as he waved his arms in the air and his shadow mimicked him. What kind of shadow follows the actions of its owner? Namu felt his eyes well up with tears. No, no NO! He fell onto the floor as the tears began to stream down his face. He never thought that his shadow would leave him too. “It's not supposed to be like this. Why is it like this?”

“Sir, why are you crying?”

Namu sniffed and roughly rubbed away the tears before turning around. The youth had awaken, hair askew and eyes barely opened. “I...I'm not a sir! I'm a boy!” Namu argued.

“But...how old are you?” the youth asked, looking Namu up and down.

Namu squirmed under the other’s scruntizing eyes. He held onto his arms, hiding his growing muscles. “Old? Im not old! I'll never get old! I'll never grow up!” he fought back.

“Never grow up?” Good, Namu had the youth distracted. “But...how?”

Namu crawled closer to the bed, bringing his face closer to the other’s. He grinned. “Magic! Wanna see?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

The answer came within milliseconds. “Yes!”

“Okay.” Namu crawled backwards off the bed and thought of all of the good times he had with his old Wendy and all of the future adventures that he’ll have with this one. He flew up so high that his head nearly hit the ceiling, but then he ducked down at the last moment and sailed around the bed and somersaulted in the air.

“Oh! What fun!” the youth was at the edge of the bed with starlight eyes, gazing up at Namu with pure amazement and joy. “I want to fly too! Can you teach me?”

“You can,” Namu announced, lightly landing on the wooden floor. He leapt over to the bed, landing right next to the other. He lifted up one finger and spoke in a low voice, “But under one condition.”

“What?” the youth whispered back, eyes searching the other.

Namu grabbed the other’s hand. “Come with me to Neverland and be my Wendy,” he proposed.

“A Wendy? What's a Wendy?”

Namu smirked, “A Wendy tells me stories and sings me lullabies and goes on great adventures with me.”

The youth leaned in closer. The stars in the eyes were twinkling with growing excitement. “What kind of adventures?”

“All kinds!” Namu responded back. “Swimming with mermaids, catching fairies and stealing their dust, fighting pirates, defeating Captain Hook in a duel to the death, having pow-wows at dusk with the tribe.”

The other’s jaw dropped while listening. “Sounds like so much fun,” the youth managed to say.

Namu stood up from the bed, still holding onto the other’s hand. “Will you come?” he asked. He was positive that the other would follow.

“But...” the youth began. The eyes strayed towards the door. “…my parents.”

Namu’s grin faltered. The last Wendy wasn’t this hard to convince, nor were her brothers. They were practically out of the window once Namu said that he’d teach them to fly. His grip tightened on her hand. “They don't have to know. It'll be a secret just between you and me,” he tried to goad the other.

The excitement quickly replaced the worry again. “A secret adventure?” the youth asked, slipping to the edge of the bed, gripping  onto Namu’s hand equally as tight.

“Eung! What do you say?” Namu asked, even though the actions were already speaking for themselves. The other was on her feet, walking with Namu over towards the window.

“Kay!”

This Wendy just might be better than his last. This Wendy ran faster, flew higher, and told amazing stories. What Namu liked best was his new Wendy’s voice. It was beautiful, angelic, healing, not only for Namu’s heart but for the island as well. Neverland was stirring back to life.

Fairies were returning to the glen and mermaids were splashing about in the shallows again, with no ugly manatee in sight. One night, Namu dared to enter the Indian camp after spying smoke from his tree. The tribe hadn’t returned, but Tigerlilly was there, stoking the flames of the campfire back to life. He, Tigerlilly, and Wendy spent the whole night dancing, chanting, and telling ghost stories by the fire. Wendy’s stories chilled him to the bone, giving him shivers even though the bonfire was blazing in front of him. But even with that, it was the best night he had in a long time.

What also made this Wendy better was the fact that new one never got jealous like the old one. The old Wendy didn’t get along with Tigerlilly, but this one braided the Indian princess’s hair. Same with the mermaids. The old Wendy hated whenever Namu went to swim with those beautiful sea creatures, but this Wendy was by his side, splashing along. They were friendly with each other, which Namu preferred over the possessive jealousy of the old Wendy.

However, later Namu realized that Tigerlilly and the mermaids weren’t jealous either. They all liked to think of Namu as ‘theirs,’ their best friend, their favorite playmate. When Namu asked them why they were jealous, both Tigerlilly and the mermaids responded in the same way: they laughed.

“There’s no reason to be jealous over this Wendy. So young.”

Neverland might have returned back to life, but Wendy didn’t stop Woohyun from growing. Wendy even made him new clothes. He also became increasingly aware of the between them, especially when Wendy would accidentally call him “sir” and talk to him formally. It was the only fight that they had, but they had it constantly.

“I told not to call me that,” Namu snarled.

Wendy pouted.  A frown was unaccustomed on that moon-like face. “I also told you not to call me ‘Wendy.’ I have a name,” the other fought back.  

Namu flicked a dirt clod in the other’s direction. “That’s only because you haven’t chosen a name for yourself yet. No Lost Boy goes by the name their parents gave them. It’s the rules.”

“Who made up the rules?” the youth fought back, wiping the dirt clod from the nightgown.

Namu smirked. “I did. This is my island.”

The other looked away and laugh. “Kay.”

“What about that?” Namu suggested as he pulled himself up. The other looked up at him with a look of confusion. “You always say ‘Kay.’ Why not make it your name.”

“Kei?” the girl asked with her wide eyes. She nodded and grinned back. “Kay!”

And they both laughed, and they never had that fight again.

Even when that bubble of happiness should have burst, Namu’s heart only swelled greater. He came home to his treehouse with pearls that the mermaids had gathered for Kei, but the hovel was empty and ransacked. Yet nailed above his bed was what he had been anticipating, ever since he had brought Kei to Neverland. It was a note, written on vellum the ink and scratches from the quill were fresh:

Namu Neulbo,

I’ve taken your precious Wendy. You know where to find me.

Captain S. K. Hook

It was only a matter of time until Hook involved himself in their play. Namu’s pain was his pleasure. But this kidnapping had an unexpected outcome. Namu was happy. Very happy. Things were going back to the way they were.

And Namu did march straight over to the pirate ship in the bay and fight Hook. Oh boy, did he fight…and fly! It was fantastic. It was like old times. Kei was tied up to the mast with ropes and a cloth over , muffling her screams. There was a sign around her neck that read, “I hate you, Namu!” Namu had to admit it was a nice touch on the captain’s part. And when Hook had him backed up onto the plank, there were even sharks circling in the waters below. Of course Namu only had to fly out of danger, but it wasn’t a problem any longer. Happy thoughts were coming to him easily now. He had even given Hook a nasty gash on his forearm. Now if harming his mortal enemy didn’t give him immense joy, Namu didn’t know what would. With that joy, he was able to fight with more vigor than before (and maybe his newly developed muscles were helping him out as well. Turns out growing up did have some advantages). Namu easily won and took his Wendy home.

But…the pirate did not only kidnap Kei. The villain did something far worse. He poisoned her, he poisoned her in the worst way possible. His venom soaked into her mind, turning her against Namu.

“Namu, I have to go home,” were the first words out of Kei’s mouth once they were back inside of the tree.

Namu whipped his head about the hallow. “B-but we are home,” he stammered in confusion.

Kei sighed, sadly. The stars in her eyes shone with pity as she approached the boy, her nightgown swishing with every step. Once in front of him, she lifted her hands to his cheeks wiping away the tears that Namu didn’t know were now raining down his face. At this moment, he finally felt younger than her. Maybe age wasn’t the only thing that made someone ‘old.’ There was something about the tender look in Kei’s eyes, the understanding in them. Whatever that was, it made her older than Namu by many many years (the word that the boy was looking for but did not know yet was ‘maturity,’ but how would he know such a thing? That quality did not exist in Neverland).

“I have to go home,” she repeated. Her voice cracked as the stars in her eyes shone brighter and shot down her faces in streams. “I have to grow up.”

“No, you don’t!” Namu argued, tearing her hands off of his face. But he still held onto them tightly, bringing them to his chest. “If you stay here, you don’t ever have to grow up. This is Neverland,” he whispered. She had a choice, but who would choose to grow older over eternal youth.

“My parents,” Kei mumbled through her pursed lips, trying to keep back the sobs. Her eyes were downcast. “My family. I miss them. I have to go back to them. I’ve been away for so long. They must be worrying about me,” she broke out in a great sob before continuing, staring Namu directly face-to-face, “And I have to take care of them. They need me. I have a responsibility to them.”

“Responsibility?” Namu scoffed, dropping her hands. He grinned his greatest, cheekiest smile, trying his best to saude her. “Who needs ‘responsibility’ when you could have adventure?”

“I do,” Kei immediately responded, breaking Namu’s heart and spirit. “Being an adult means accepting responsibility, and…” She shut her eyes tightly as she blurted out the last part, “And I want to be an adult!”

She said it: the five-lettered word that Namu hated the most, the one that was taboo on the island. He even had a jar in the corner of the hallow, where the Boys used to put coins in, if they ever spoke it. However, saying it was one thing. Namu could deal with that. Wanting to be one, well, that was incomprehensible to him.

“Get out!” Namu shouted, pointing at the door. “Get out! I never ever want to see you again!”

However, Kei did not leave, or at least not quite yet. She stepped closer to the boy panting angrily and soothed him with hushes. Namu didn’t know why she was treating him so gently if she was just going to leave and grow up. But leaving on a ‘good note,’ wasn’t a notion that he was acquainted with yet, trying to leave someone with only good memories and thoughts of them. It cuts the sadness of the parting and gives a hope, no matter however slight or impossible, of them meeting again, and meeting with smiles on their faces.

Once Namu calmed down, Kei got onto the tips of her toes, brought her moon face to the other, and gave the boy a short but sweet kiss. Namu just stood there, frozen solid out of shock and confusion. Kei, however, gave no reason behind her actions; she just smiled. “I won’t ever forget you, Namu,” she whispered to him like it was a secret shared under the covers at night. Kei then took a step back and waved farewell to the boy rooted in his tree. “Goodbye! I’ll miss you, Namu. Everyday.” She then her heels and flew out of the entrance. She flew back home.

Namu stood there, shaking and quivering like a leaf in the wind.

“No, you won’t,” he chanted under his breath. They never missed him. They always forgot about him. They always did. Because if they didn’t, he wouldn’t be alone right now.

When Kei left, Namu was despondent, and winter had come over the island. The trees had shed their leaves. Frost encased the branches and the waters. Everything was dead, except for Namu, who was breathing slowly, laying on top of a fresh pile of snow under his tree, staring up at the skeleton-like branches. The puffs of clouds floating from his lips were the only signal that he was, indeed, alive. His eyes were wide open, but there was no light in them.

“Aha!”

Namu slowly lifted up his head and propped himself onto this elbows, only to see Hook clumsily leaping over a snowbank. The pirate held his frosted sword up high and his breath billowed out of his mouth like smoke. But after a brief survey of the seen, the captain immediately knew that something was wrong and lowered his weapon. “Wait…where’d she go?” he asked.

Namu sighed and plopped back down onto the soft snow. He shut his eyes tightly as he answered through gritted teeth, “She’s gone. She’s been gone for a long time. And she’s not coming back. Wendy’s never coming back.”

The snow next to him crunched. Namu looked over to see the pirate sitting next to him, staring off at the distance. “I should have known. The island is mourning her,” Hook murmured under his breath. He then looked down at Namu, seeing the icing tear tracks, frozen onto his cold face. “You are too.” The pirate then took a deep breath in and fixed a smile onto his face. “I guess that game is over. How about we start a new one? I have this new hook I’d love to flay you alive with, like docile little lamb,” he gently threatened, waving his hook into the air.

Namu to his side and away from the other. “No.”

“No? No?!” Hook repeated while laughing condescendingly. “Does Namu really not want to play?”

Namu flipped over onto his other side, glaring at the evil pirate. Fresh, hot tears were melting the icy tracks on his face. “Leave me alone!” the boy growled. “Why are you still here? Everyone is gone. The Chief, his tribe, the fairies, the mermaids…the boys. Everybody! Even Wendy.” He paused and huffed. Then he added, “You don’t even have a crew anymore.”

The smile wasn’t wiped away from the pirate’s face. It was frozen on, just like Namu’s tears. “True,” Hook admitted in a low voice. His gaze then met the other’s and his tone grew grave. “But because you’re still here, I’m still here. As long as there’s a Namu, there’ll be a Captain Hook.”

Namu sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his cold hands as he sat up. “Why is that?” he asked.

The captain shrugged. “I didn’t make up the rules. This isn’t my world. It’s yours,” he finally admitted after all of these years of fighting and pillaging. “As much as I try to claim it as my own, it’s still yours. And I’m just a filthy pirate trying to make it mine.” He then chewed on his lower lip and cocked his head, wondering if he should reveal the next part (however after all of his years with Namu, Hook knew it was fruitless to hide things from the other. The boy always found out). And so he confessed, “And that was the real reason why I could escape from the croc. I didn’t claw my way out, like I said I did. He more or less…spat me back out.”

“Pbft.” Hook looked down to see Namu’s eyes disappear behind his rising cheeks and an immense smile growing on this face. The boy broke out into a roaring laughter, clutching his sides with his arms and rolling about in the snow. “He threw you up!” he squeaked out between laughs.

The pirate frowned and quickly answered, “Yes, he threw me up.”

Namu clambered up to his knees and pointed at the other. “You must’ve made him sick. You must’ve tasted disgusting. You vile creature!” He broke out into another peal of laughter, folding over himself. “You’re worse than garbage. And I’ve seen that croc eat garbage. But he didn’t want to eat you.”

“You missed the point,” the captain grumbled under his breath.

“No, I understand,” Namu wheezed. He then shifted, moving from resting on his knees to sitting on his bottom, sinking deeper into the snow. His smile was still bright, like the sun that was shining down on them now. But then his smile became restrained as he spoke in a serious tone, “I understand completely….I must be fighting against you in more ways than just one. You represent growing up, my biggest enemy. You’ve always been the oldest on the island.” It was true. He was even older than the Indian chief and the rest of his crew. The captain was 32, which meant that he was not only 30, but over 30. The pirate seemed to be several feet taller, with an aged face and spoke words that Namu had never heard of before. But now, Namu glanced over at the captain who was rolling the snow into a ball with his long, white fingers. His lips were pursed in concentration. There were far fewer wrinkles than he remembered, creasing that round face. Speaking of his face, Namu was almost level with it. He was almost as tall as the other now. The boy smiled out of helplessness. “But now you don’t look that old. Seems like you have some growing up left too.”

The snowball fell from the pirate’s hands and landed in the snow with a soft plop. Hook pointed at himself. “Me?! What do you mean me?” Namu nodded while giggling again. The captain scoffed. “I am a full-fledged adult. I’ve had plenty of experiences. I have a ship. I have…had a crew. I have a sword!” Hook shook the sheathed sword at his side for emphasis.

Namu let out a grand breath and watched that cloud lift into the sky, following the path Kei had taken to Reality. “Being an adult means accepting responsibility,” Namu repeated her words. He then faced the pirate, resting his chin on his knees. “You’re a pirate. You’ve been fleeing from taking responsibility for your actions for your whole life.”

The captain stared at the other with his jaw unhinged, his fist gripping at the hilt of the sword. Namu was almost positive that the other was going to unsheathe it or at least threaten to, but what happened next was new and unexpected. The pirate smiled and reached over to ruffle the younger’s hair. The icicles in his hair clinked against each other as the captain did so, sounding like wind chimes. “Where did you learn that, Namu?” Hook asked.

“Kei.”

Hook removed his hand and his gaze from the other, and looked up into the sky. Snow was falling again. “She’s a smart woman. Do you think she grew up already?” he mused.

Namu nodded, “Even when she was here, she was already an adult.”

That was a turning point. And now everything was spinning. Namu’s view of the world was shifting, turning on its axis. He was looking at things from a different angle, gaining perspective. Not just his own, but he was now able to view matters from several perspectives. Maybe the frog was scared when he suddenly snatched it up and threw it into his satchel and maybe that’s why it kept trying to jump out. So he let it go. Maybe the manatees didn’t like it when he called them fat and ugly (even though it was the truth) and that’s why they would blow raspberry’s at him through their thick whiskers and sulk away. He was finally starting to understand.

And with a newly found understanding came revelation and clarity. He hated Captain Hook. Namu had hated him with his entire being. After all, they were sworn enemies. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to feel towards them? But now, that didn’t seem to be the case, for the Captain at least. How many times did he stop by Namu’s tree just to exchange bantering words and empty threats and his underling Fat-One-Eyed-Brain-The-Size-Of-Tinkerbell’s-Shoe Tom would accidentally leave behind his satchel of food, which then the Lost Boys would consume ravenously? Out of all of the several Toms on his crew, the Captain hated that one the most (in fact he was the one who came up with the epithet), but if Fat-One-Eyed-Brain-The-Size-Of-Tinkerbell’s-Shoe Tom was good for anything, it was unsuspectingly leaving behind food. And how many times had Captain Hook have Namu on the brink of death, sword against the boy’s neck, but then suddenly go into a long diatribe? Namu remembered clearly the time the Captain had given a 15 minute long lecture about proper dental care so “You can die with a pretty smile on your face, my boy.” Namu had assumed that he was just being a no-good, nagging adult, but now he realized that the tiresome monologue gave the Lost Boys enough time to wiggle out of the pirates’ hold and rescue him. How many times had Hook pulled Namu away from the jaws of the crocodile, claiming that he wanted to finish the boy off himself? How many times had he invaded Namu’s tree, while the boys were sleeping and rain was pouring down in heaps, just to put blankets over them and steal something frivolous? How many times had they “fought”? How many times had they played together? How many times…how many times? Too many to count.

It didn’t seem like Hook hated him at all. No, it seemed like the old man was…fond of him. And how did Namu repay his feelings and veiled kindness: he had tried to kill Hook and almost succeeded (not to mention he had disabled the man for life).

A horrible feeling overcame Namu. His stomach churned. His face grew hot. His limbs became anxious and agitated. His mind whirred a mile a minute, reviewing all of the grievances he caused the Captain. Namu didn’t know it at the moment because he had never felt this feeling before, but what he was experiencing was guilt, immense guilt.

However, what he did know was that it wasn’t too late to make amends. This time he could save the Captain.

Namu ran to the bay as quickly as his feet could carry him. He had to do this before he changed his mind. It was going to be the last impulsive act of his youth. Once he reached the ship, bobbling amoungst the gentle waves in the harbor, it only cemented the decision in his mind. The ship now seemed so small. Before Namu swore that the ship had fifty cannons on both sides, that the sails were as big and dark as storm clouds, but now he only counted ten cannons in total, and the linens had been bleached by the sun. It was far less impressive than he remembered it being. It almost looked sad.

He walked on the creaking ramp to board the ship. It was different than he remembered too, or was it that he never truly noticed before? Whenever he had come before, he had been so fixated on dueling the pirate that he never took in his surroundings. There was a mop and a bucket discard alongside the railing and the floor was only half cleaned. It was as if someone started to mop up the deck, but then half-way, decided that it was too much effort and abandoned it. Everything was like that: repairs half-done, sails half-tacked, cannonballs half-stacked. It was growing increasingly obvious that this ship had a crew of one, and it was growing increasingly difficult for that one man to maintain.

But where was that one man? Namu barged into the captain’s quarters, only to find Hook with his boots kicked up on the desk, playing with a toy ship in his hands, acting as if it were sailing in the waves of the air. The man was even making noises for his ‘firing’ cannons. Namu let out a grand sigh. This man was the oldest in Neverland? How?

The captain must’ve heard the sigh. His head shot straight upward. His eyes grew wide in shock. “Namu, what are you…” He then cleared his throat and struggled to stand up quickly. With the toy ship still in his other hand, he lifted his hooked hand against the intruder. With a low growl, he yelled at the other, “I mean, aye! Avast! You come aboard my ship without my permission. You must have a death wish, my…Namu?” The words caught in his throat when the other approached him with no dagger drawn, no sharp words, completely defenseless. The elder’s eyes scanned the other carefully. Namu had grown older since the last time they met. He had matured on his sprint over to the bay. He was in his mid-twenties now. He wasn’t a boy any longer.

“Let’s go,” Namu spoke lowly, having a hard time squeezing those words from his throat. His whole body was fighting against it, but his mind was already resolved.

The pirate lowered his hook. “Huh?”

“Let’s give up and let’s go,” Namu said again, with more urgency this time. He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, pacing about the room. He was growing anxious, and afraid. “Let’s go before I change my mind!” he shouted, hoping to get the damn pirate to move, to do anything other than stand there and look at him with his mouth agape.

“Go where? Where can we go?” Hook either still didn’t understand what was happening, or he couldn’t believe it.

Namu was reaching the end of his rope. “You must have maggots for brains. Where do you think?” he fought back. He then stomped over to the pirate, grabbed his forearm with both hands, and shook it, hoping to stir the other. “The other side! Let’s go!” Namu yelled, even yanking on the other, but Hook wouldn’t budge.

The pirate narrowed his gaze on the younger. “Why should I go with you?” he asked as he tore his arm away from the other’s grip. He took a couple of steps back and began caressing the polished wood of his desk, the astrolabes and the maps littering it. “I don’t want to…this is mine,” he spoke under his breath.

“I’m not leaving you behind,” Namu announced, walking up next to the other. He waited until the captain lifted his gaze to meet his. “There’s no Captain without Namu, so if I leave…”

“I die.”

Namu shook his head and made a weird, strangled noise, bubbling from the back of his throat. “Worse. You don’t exist,” he clarified and watched the realization sink into the other. “Now let’s go! Put this stupid thing down and take my hand.” Namu ripped the toy ship from the other’s hand and placed it on the desk. He then outstretched his hand to the other. If the other wanted to be wiped away along with Neverland, if Hook didn’t want to accept the salvation that Namu was offering him, there was nothing that the boy could do.

The pirate stared down at the hand. “Don’t you want me to die?” The man had a point. They were mortal enemies, and Namu could finally succeed in destroying him. Namu could finally win. But…Namu swallowed hard, recalling everything that he had finally understood. While he couldn’t say for now that he liked the pirate, there was something that Namu could admit.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Namu confessed. That was something that he hated more than Captain Hook. That was his greatest enemy. “So, come on. Please? Let’s go. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

Captain Hook smiled and wrapped his hand around the other’s. “Neither do I.”

The two of them left the quarters and ascended into the air. Thoughts of a blossoming future and new adventures filled Namu’s mind and gave him hope and happiness. As he turned around to make sure that the pirate was still with him (he was, but it seemed like the old man was afraid of heights), Namu saw the demise of Neverland. He saw the island being swallowed into the purple sea, the mountains crumbling, and the treehouse, his home, disappearing into nothingness.

Namu bit his tongue, fighting back the feelings that would threatened to bring him down with Neverland into that sea. Instead, he focused forward on the stars, on Reality approaching him quickly. He focused on his bright future and on the possibilities that he couldn’t even imagine yet.

And finally, he was happy that he was going to grow up.

A/N: the next part will take place in Reality (and if it isn't obvious, Sunggyu is Hook).