When Kim Jongin turned fourteen years old, he was photographed for the local newspaper after his science fair project had turned into a government affair. He was later photographed again for a much larger distributing paper and found himself giving out his signature upon multiple copies of press-printed grey paper with smudged black ink. He signed many newspapers, just beneath his photo on the front page, and sometimes it left his hands smelling like the pulp or left his wrist with a thin black line from where his skin had rubbed across the inky blotches of the articles.

He got quite good at signing his name, though he had always hated his handwriting. He learned how to master the loops of the letters and how to flow his name quickly and neatly so that he could get on about his business. Signing papers, he decided, was boring and took from his time that he could be studying his books or hugging his precious parchments with simple designs sketched onto them in fine charcoal and graphite.

There were only a few times that Jongin realized he ever enjoyed signing papers. There were, in fact, three times that he could definitely say that he was proud to sign a piece of paper. The first of these was when he was first asked to sign a newspaper back in his hometown after the issue had come out. It was a little boy who had asked him so politely for his autograph to hang up on his wall, a friend, as a matter of fact, and Jongin was happy to comply to the boy’s eager wishes. In that moment he felt proud to be such a role model, even if only fourteen years old.

The second time was when Jongin turned fifteen years old. All of his friends were graduated from school and looking for places to study or places to work. Most of his friends found apprenticeships with local blacksmiths, locksmiths, tailors and the like while a few others found great schools to study in for furthering their education. His closest friend found a line of work within the family business and easily took up his Father’s upkeep of their inn. Jongin was ambitious at that age and he dreamed of an era beyond a simple way of life, though he did not think poorly of honest work. It was the day that his best friend’s little brother, his biggest fan, asked him what it was that he planned on doing in the future that Kim Jongin found himself giddy with excitement as he signed the application to the Academy.

The third day was only a month later when the news came in the form of a sealed letter that he had to sign for. That had only meant one thing - important mail. It was a delicate little thing that was handed to him, with a red stamp on the back, the wax bright as anything he’d ever seen and the insignia of the Academy was pressed into it. On the front, in the most beautiful handwriting that Jongin could ever imagine, was his address and his name - Mr. Kim Jongin - and a stamp in the upper corner. He was almost terrified to open it, but with much encouragement from his friend (‘encouragement’ meaning that his friend took it from his grasp and waved it around in the air, just out of reach for Jongin, and then threatened to tear it open himself if Jongin would not) he managed to take a deep breath and break the seal.

Neatly folded and tucked away inside the small envelope was a rather stiff piece of paper, thicker than the norm, in a lovely shade of burgundy. Jongin and his friend gave each other curious glances before Jongin mustered up the strength to pull it out and glance at the paper in the light. Upon the piece of paper, written in what must’ve been golden ink, was the following sentence: Mister Kim Jongin, On behalf of the Academic Council, I would like to inform you for you acceptance into the innovation program here at the Academy. Jongin was sure that there was more written on the card, but he didn’t pay it any attention after reading the first line, because that was the only one that had mattered.

At the young age of just fifteen years old, Kim Jongin packed up his bags, bowed his head to his friend (and host for the past eight or so years of his life) and said goodbye. Of course, his bon voyage had not been as simple as that - his best friend had insisted that he carried his things for him to the trainstation and the little boy who had admired Jongin so dearly insisted that he hug him at least twenty times before he’d left, and then once or twice more for good luck. It was after all of the sweet sorrow of farewell that Jongin finally made it aboard the train in time for the engine to pull from the station. He waved from the window, calling out his goodbyes as the train slowly moved onto the tracks, and then he was off to start a new chapter in his life.

The new chapter started almost right away when he arrived on the campus of the Academy and was greeted by a few students who recognized the boy from somewhere. It was not until one senior student held up another one of those bloody newspapers that Jongin groaned internally and was forced into signing a few more copies of his photograph beneath the headline that would forever engrave itself into his mind: “Young Genius Boy Who Discovered Potential For Artificial Intelligence Enrolled At The Academy.”

“Quite the start for you here, eh?” A senior student asked as he slung an arm around Jongin’s shoulders after much of the crowds of students and faculty alike had dissipated.

Jongin scratched at his temple and nodded, too tired to fight off this stranger, “Quite.”

“Do you have a mentor yet, kid?”

“No…” Jongin shifted and tried to get a look at the student who invaded his personal space. All he could capture a glimpse of was a toothpick dangling between a pair of lips and strands of surprisingly blonde hair. He huffed, “Am I supposed to have one?”

The senior student laughed, loud and boisterous, “No, not yet I suppose seeing as you only just arrived.”

“Is that how the school works?” Jongin asked in confusion as he lugged his baggage with him, the senior student’s weight on his shoulders not helping the load at all.

“Sort of,” The senior grinned and plucked the toothpick that hung from his mouth, “You see, the senior students all take on a sort of rookie at the beginning of their senior year and show them the ropes. We only pick those who have potential, of course, and I see some promising talent in you, kid.”

“The name is Jongin.”

“I know who you are, kid.” The senior chuckled, “Everyone knows who you are.”

If there was a word that Jongin would use for this extremely tall student that loomed over him, it was ‘bold.’ He was definitely bold in his choice of hair colour, he decided, since blonde was considerably outrageous and most definitely something that was easily detectable in a crowd. Something that was daring and adventurous. The way he spoke and the way he acted was also, in itself, audacious. He had this strong aura about him that reminded Jongin of a fearless explorer that he’d read about as a child.

“Why should I pick you to be my mentor then?” Jongin asked as he finally managed to shrug the student’s weight off of himself.

The senior laughed and picked up one of Jongin’s cases to assist him, “Because, Jongin, we seem to work in the same fields of study.”

That certainly caught Jongin’s attention and he was all ears while the student explained further and they walked to Jongin’s dormitory. As they arrived, Jongin felt himself completely enchanted by the elder and his vision for the future. He wanted to help people and to make them feel a little less lonely by bringing androids into the world. It seemed like a farfetched idea, to create something from metal and cogs that was both human and intellectual. Nearly impossible to the minds of those who could not comprehend it. And yet Jongin and this senior student seemed to be far from unable to understand. They both had ideas and they fit together perfectly, like two gears turning together in a well-oiled machine.

“I think you would be a valuable asset on my project. We can change the world together, you and me, for the better.” The senior said when they came to a stop in front of Jongin’s dorm room door, “What do you think, kid? Are you up for the challenge?”

Jongin nodded eagerly, “I certainly am, if only you’ll call me by my name.”

“Sure thing, Jongin.” The senior said and the smile he gave the younger said ‘confidence.’

“What is your name?”

“Yifan,” The senior winked, “Wu Yifan. And don’t you forget it either, alright, Jongin? I’m going to submit a request form to have you has my apprentice in the morning once the office opens up. Chances are a lot of other students are going to have already requested you too. So when they bring you to the meeting room and offer you a list of choices, you’ve got to give them my name, okay?”

Jongin nodded again, “Of course, but won’t your name be on that list too?”

Yifan chuckled, “They think I’m insane, they think my project is impossible, but I’m an idealist and I believe I can achieve my goals. Professor Zhang Yixing will be there too at the council meeting, he’ll vouch for me. I’m in his department after all,” he hesitated a moment before looking down at Jongin seriously, “You will work with me, right Jongin?”

There was a long pause between the two of them that left Jongin thinking, thinking hard. He did not think Yifan to be insane, but he was indeed quite ambitious. It was different, unusual… And it was something that Jongin adored. He wanted to be part of it, even if in only a small way, of the changing future. The idea was beyond enthralling and made Jongin’s insides tingle with delight. This was his dream - to change the world, to make a better life through technology.

“I’d like to,” Jongin decided and then shook his head, “I’d love to.”

The next morning, Jongin received a telegram just as that senior student, Wu Yifan, had said he would. Jongin hummed as he read over the curt piece of burgundy card - it was precisely the same as the one he had received as an acceptance letter. The golden ink and cursive writing was identical and he wondered if there was someone hired amongst the faculty whose job it was to produce these cards with the fancy scrawl on the stiff paper whenever the academic council so required it.

Jongin walked groggily from his dorm room and was stopped a few times here and there to talk to fellow students and others who were very much so interested in Jongin’s work. He figured he would be late for the council meeting and he had been so hoping to arrive a few minutes earlier, but at the rate he was walking, that feat seemed hopeless. The time on the clocktower in the center of the campus read five minutes to nine in the morning just as Jongin stepped inside the main building where his meeting with the council would take place.

It was a lavish place, ornate with decor that he only pictured in his wildest dreams. It was as though the great artists of the Roman Empire had never really died and were immortals living in secrecy just to bring embellishments to the establishment. The old, of course, mixed with the new steam powered gadgets and the golden cogs that turns in synchronization with each other nearly mesmerizing Jongin on his way to the great hall. An elder lady just outside of the room smiled at him and asked for his name politely before letting him enter the room with the press of a buzzer.

A click sound startled Jongin from his thoughts as he watched what he had presumed originally to be an excessive decoration of clockwork pieces turn about on the large wooden door until it opened itself with a loud echo and the creaking of wood against wood. It was impressive and Jongin had never seen something so spectacular in his entire existence, he made a note of the way the pieces worked together in the door to move on their own and thought maybe he might take a course in his spare time on the way that gears could possibly work to pull off something like this.

Inside of the great hall it looked like a courtroom, only there were now chairs for an audience or a guilty party nor a defendant party. There was just a red carpet that spread over the enormous empty space and a large semicircle of what Jongin would call judge’s seats. In each seat was a member of the academic council, every single one of them wearing their own special insignias that displayed their authority within the Academy and their service that they provided and from which department they hailed. The members varied from professor assistants, who sat in the end seats, young professors to old professors, benefactors and of course the headmaster who sat in the middle of them all.

The headmaster was surprisingly young looking. He had a full head of hair, which came as a shock to Jongin who had pictured the headmaster of such a prestigious school to be bald if not balding, and it was a shade of chocolate brown. He also had a lovely smile and the way he was presented was both humble and yet somehow regal. Jongin would be lying to himself to say that the man did not make his heart flutter when he looked down at him with those brown eyes of his. He would also be lying to himself if he did not admit that this man was rather handsome. Silly thoughts aside, Jongin was impressed by such a headmaster.

“Kim Jongin,” The headmaster spoke and it startled Jongin to hear his name come from such a strong voice, “Welcome to The Academy.” The man finished with a small smile on his lips and a hint of amusement in his tone.

Members on the academic council immediately began to clap almost as if they had rehearsed how to greet the infamous Kim Jongin. They stopped just as abruptly as they had began and Jongin truly started to wonder in that moment if they had practiced this. Pushing the nonsense to the back of his mind, Jongin managed a quick bow and a soft ‘thank you’ in response to their welcome.

“I am the headmaster of this academy, Kim Junmyeon, I’m sure you already knew that.” The man smiled and Jongin forced a nod - he was sure he would have known had he read his acceptance letter in it’s entirety, but that was not what he had done, far too excited about the news he had received at the time.

“I’ll bet that you’re wondering as to why you’ve been summoned here to the council this early in the morning, and on the day before classes too.” Junmyeon grinned and he reached to his right-hand side where a man with soft eyes and neat, black hair sat. The man handed a clipboard to Junmyeon and Jongin could only assume that this was the list that Yifan had spoken of previously.

“You see, Kim Jongin, at this school, the senior students choose someone that they want to teach, someone that they want to help them in their endeavours towards their graduation projects at the end of the year. It is typical that the student picked is a year behind the senior student, someone who has had more experience and time to pinpoint their areas of research, but every student has a special case. It has happened before where younger students have been picked as apprentices for the year and then assumed their own studies in the years proceeding. Until they reached their own senior years, of course.

“The thing is, Jongin, you have a bit of a reputation as a genius and I must admit that I, myself, am quite impressed with your credentials. For someone of your age to have discovered something so complex and intricate and to be able to work on that project with the government- Well, let me just say that, on behalf of the faculty here, we were more than delighted to receive your application and were very eager to have you enrolled in The Academy. We were overjoyed that you even considered us and we’re glad that you stand here before us now.

“With a reputation such as yours, it was obvious that once the news was spread around the campus that you would be attending school here this semester that plenty of request forms should come to us from senior students whom you have not even had the chance to meet yet looking for approval to have you as their student. In fact, this was the first time that we had over one hundred request forms submitted and the turnout was remarkable - you’re already breaking records here, Jongin, and that is what we like to see from individuals at this school.

“The next logical step was, of course, to have you decide who you would like to have as a mentor. And it is entirely up to you who you study under. You might not even choose to study under someone this year at all. You can only become a trainee once in your career at The Academy, so keep that in mind while you look through this list. We have no issues with you waiting for another year or accepting an apprenticeship now. Entirely your choice. All we ask is that you take the time to review the list of recommendations that we have given you and then consider who you might want to study with, if you choose to do so. You don’t have to choose right now either. Take your time and- Is there something you wish to say, Jongin?”

Junmyeon’s rambling had taken up so much time, Jongin had started to glaze over through most of the speech. He noticed the way that many of the other members on the council had similar expressions and he wondered if Junmyeon always talked this much. At some point during Junmyeon’s long spiel, he had raised his hand and waited patiently for the headmaster to take notice of it, for he had grown bored of trying to determine what each of the insignias on the collars of the members meant and trying to pick which man was the Professor Zhang that Yifan had mentioned.

“I actually already have a candidate in mind,” Jongin said slowly as he scanned his eyes over the list that Junmyeon had offered him since retrieving it from one of his colleagues, “His name is not actually on this list of recommendations… Is that alright?”

Junmyeon chuckled nervously, “They are just suggestions from some of our best students, but, by all means Jongin, who did you have in mind?”

“Wu Yifan,” Jongin replied determinedly and the man sat beside Junmyeon suddenly perked up with interest while the rest of the council burst into hushed murmurs of disapproval.

“Wu Yifan?” Junmyeon questioned slowly before he looked to the man on his right who raised himself from his seat slowly.

“Jongin,” He spoke and there was a foreign accent in his words that the young student quite liked, “My name is Doctor Zhang Yixing. Wu Yifan is one of my students in the robotics department. We’re still experimental and rather new. In fact, Yifan is the only senior student who will be graduating under my supervision and we don’t have many other students beside him. Are you sure you would like to dedicate your time to such a,” Yixing paused searching for the right word, “How do you say, um, tentative program?”

“I have dreams, Dr. Zhang, and ideas that I want to test. If there is any department that I feel I am well-suited for, considering my prior studies and endeavours, it’s the robotics department. I’m a visionary of sorts and I feel that Yifan and I have similar concepts in our minds that we can work on together.” Jongin concluded with a small smile and a turned his eyes to the headmaster who could only nod in his agreement.

“Very well then,” Junmyeon said, retrieving the list from Jongin’s hands, “You will train with Yifan until he graduates at the end of the year under Zhang Yixing’s supervision.” He paused for a brief moment before letting out a sigh, “Regardless of your mentor, we expect great things from you, Mr. Kim Jongin. Very great things.”

Very great things was what Jongin intended to give when he came to this academy and very great things it seemed that the increasingly popular duo, Kim Jongin and Wu Yifan, would provide. There was not one student on campus who did not know of Jongin’s name and there was not one student on campus who did not know of Yifan’s now either with the younger student by his side. They would be unstoppable and Zhang Yixing would be there to guide them in their efforts no matter how elaborate the inventions were that the two drafted.

The school was astonished at the opening ceremony for seniors to accept their apprentices, when Kim Jongin walked up on that stage in his apprentice dress towards the bold and daring Yifan from the robotics department. They were even more astonished when Yifan announced his project to the student body, shocking everyone with his drive and determination. And Jongin stood by his side the entire time even as he spoke words that seemed as only nonsense to those who could not see the future the way that they saw it.

After the ceremony, Yifan kicked back in his laboratory, provided by the robotics department and their very own Professor Zhang, and closed his eyes. He looked every ounce as tired as Jongin felt, and yet he still had that gummy grin plastered on his face. It had been there since the academic council had made a few displeased noises at the mention of his project due to their lack of faith in the student. Something about that way Yifan didn’t care what they thought about him made Jongin wonder if he could ever be so confident.

“What now?” Jongin asked timidly, losing the robes that he had to wear for the event and draping them over a chair.

“Now?” Yifan asked, prying his eyes open to look at Jongin, “Now we prove them wrong.”

Proving them wrong was a lot easier said than done, Jongin quickly realize, when Yifan took out his blueprints and spread them across the countertop. The blue paper was covered in white chalky lines and there were sketches littered about the place as soon as Yifan opened up his files. Looking at all the work that Yifan had spent creating over the past few years was remarkable and despite the elder’s inability to keep organized, Jongin was proud to have chosen Yifan as his mentor. He had never met someone so devoted and energetic as Wu Yifan.

“It all starts with an idea,” Yifan explained when Jongin asked how he had ever thought of something like this, “An ‘aha’ moment when you realize that this could be it. The thing to change the world.”

“It is a relatively farfetched idea, though, when you think about it enough,” Jongin sighed as he pulled out Yifan’s workings scribbled onto faded lined paper, “Don’t you think?”

“Maybe it is ahead of it’s time,” Yifan mused, “But that is precisely what causes the change in the world. This is how we make our mark in history that people will come to see in the future. I want to make a better place, even if I’m one step in the process.” he smiled then and ruffled Jongin’s hair for the first time, “We can do this together. You and me. We can prove one theory at least and show the academic council that we’re not as crazy as we sound when we say that an adroid can be human too.”

Jongin was captivated by the words, captivated by all that was Wu Yifan. The blonde hair, the handsome face, the loud laughter, the cheeky smiles and the dreamy look he got in his eyes whenever he talked about their project coming to life. Jongin would be a fool to say that he didn’t have feelings for Yifan the more time he spent with him. It developed slowly and Jongin discovered that he had a crush on the senior student when the elder hugged him after the first success of their experiments and he felt as though his heart was about ready to burst out of his chest.

His feelings settled rather quickly as they began to shift into their new territories and they required real, groundbreaking research. Jongin spent most of his nights awake in his dorm by candlelight trying to figure out the best possible equation to put together for their programs and spent most of his days falling asleep in class, but still managing his high scores and a test average that beat out all of the other students. Jongin was slowly falling into the habits of a real inventor and he was surprised at how easy, how natural, it was to be awake all hours of the night while thinking of new ways to create artificial life.

“Observational Sensory Humanoid,” Yifan proclaimed as he held up the final sketch of their project in the light, “OSH-94 for short.”

Jongin squinted at it for a few seconds before his eyes adjusted to the light Yifan had flicked on and then he smiled, enjoying the way that his data fit so readily with the schematics that Yifan had mostly created, “Ninety-four?” he asked curiously, “What’s with the number?”

“This is our project,” Yifan grinned all toothy and pearly-white, “Nine, four. The day we met.”

“Nine…? Four…?” It took Jongin a few minutes to process it, but then he realized, “September fourth, of course.”

“Your first day at the Academy.” Yifan said slinging an arm around Jongin’s shoulders, “A day I’ll never forget.”

Jongin would never forget the way his heart skipped a beat in that moment. Perhaps he had not quite settled all of his feelings.

Months passed and Yifan’s and Jongin’s project showed no real promising change. Yifan had started building his model and it was slow, but it was starting to come together. Jongin watched in awe as Yifan picked up oil, grease, cloth, wrench, cog and bolt to put together what would be the base of their android. The only problem that they were still facing was the programming, which was difficult for Jongin to do with only numbers on paper. He needed to put things together just as Yifan was doing and so he started his work on the central part of their android - what would come to be like the human brain. The part of the model that would be the artificial intelligence.

Yifan would be lying to say that he was not impressed with how quickly Jongin developed a piece of clockwork that turned together, reading codes through sensors that the boy had created in his spare time between classes. Like that of a record, there was a needle that read the programming from a turn of the windup key and just like that, they had given their android life. The lights switched on and the gears turned automatically after a few cranks of the key until they were moving steadily on their own.

And then, for the first time in history, two students in the basement of a building on a campus of a prestigious school, made an android move all by itself without either of them touching it and without either of them telling it to. It simply moved, a very light movement, where the android turned what was to be it’s head and then stopped. It was not much, but it was progress. Real progress and proof that the idea of an android taking on its own living, working form was not entirely impossible. It was, in fact, completely possible… And they had just verified it.

When Zhang Yixing found out about their progress, he immediately told the two boys to keep it quiet between the three of them. He explained that the council would be terrified to discover that a robot could do on it’s own what a human should be doing for it. The boys reluctantly agreed to keep the movement a secret until they could have a prototype complete in full form to show the council. Professor Zhang was a smart man and his words forever stuck with Jongin when he spoke them: “If you’re going to terrify the council with an android that truly works, I think you should do it as a final project. Imagine the look on their face when the android speaks to them, let alone moves.”

The words shook Jongin to his core. Dr. Zhang was just as ambitious as the two students were and would stop at nothing to have his boys show the academic council exactly what they were capable of. It would not take much more work, Jongin quickly discovered, and while he was researching one night, he stumbled upon a very interesting piece of information - a new type of technology that was even more intense than artificial intelligence itself.

“Is that really possible?” Yifan asked, eyes wide as he shifted in his seat - he was just taking a break from cleaning up the android’s parts.

“It might be,” Jongin breathed hard, his breath caught in his lungs since he’d run all the way to the laboratory from the library as soon as he discovered it, “Can you imagine?”

“Androids that are not only able to think for themselves, but feel too?” Yifan took his time processing the information before he smiled shyly, “You’re giving me goosebumps here, Jongin, you haven’t really figured out a code that would allow an android to become entirely human have you?”

Jongin nodded slowly as a small smile formed on his own lips, “I just need a way to apply it and… And we’ll have an android that is almost entirely human.”

“Jongin!” Yifan exclaimed as he jumped from his chair and reached for the younger to pull him into a hug, “I could kiss you!”

Jongin startled, “Kiss me…?”

“I could,” Yifan laughed before he realized what he’d said and then everything was absolutely silent, “I could… kiss you.” He said softly.

That was when their lips met.

It was brief, chaste and a little too platonic for two boys who could become more than apprentice and mentor or friends. When they broke apart, they laughed until the sound filled the room and they were giggling muffled behind their hands. Nothing changed between them, not even a little bit. Yifan was still the mentor and Jongin was still the student and they were still the inseparable best friends that they had come to be.

They never talked about it and Jongin never felt like they had to, because it was something between them that had been sort of a spur of the moment kind of thing and he wholly believed that even though they kissed, it didn’t mean that they were anything more than the best of friends. That was his brain talking though, because whenever he thought of it or whenever Yifan would touch him briefly, his heart fluttered inside of his chest.

He did, on the contrary, feel as though they had become closer somehow. As though any of the tension between them finally was resolved and they were comfortable with each other. He liked that comfort.

Comfort was something that Jongin craved from childhood. Comfort was a product of affection and that was something he so desperately desired from the moment his Mother passed away and his Father left him on the streets as a beggar. He was only seven years old when they left him in the world by himself and the world was a scary place for a small boy sitting on the streets just outside of his old home. ‘Impoverished’ was the word that the busy people pinned on him and ‘fortunate’ was the word he pinned back at them.

The Park family was by no means rich, but they had been close to the Kim family before the incident. They took young Kim Jongin into their home and let him grow up with his best friend, Chanyeol. Jongin was forever indebted to them and took great comfort in the way that they treated him as if he were their own son. And Jongin wasn’t some burden that they had to carry either, for he worked hard in the inn after school and woke up early to sweep the floors. The Park family was appreciative for such a hard-working child and even though they constantly told him that they loved him, he never felt like he belonged. He convinced himself that he was an extra load that they could not afford.

He sought comfort in Chanyeol when they were very young - they hugged and held hands and shared the same bed. They did it for warmth and they did it, because they liked having the other close. Even so, Chanyeol was nothing more than a big, gawky-limbed brother to Jongin. Kyungsoo was only a baby at the time and, as they grew older, Kyungsoo became more mature and clung to Jongin the way that Jongin clung to the warmth of his bed in the morning. Kyungsoo was a child when he left and would still be a child when Jongin returned, but he thought that if there was anyone who might be willing to provide him comfort after he made a name for himself, it was Park Kyungsoo.

Right now though, as he sat opposite from Yifan in the laboratory, each of them tinkering away at their android, he thought he couldn’t be any more comfortable. With Yifan, Jongin felt like he had finally found a place to belong all on his own - it was a fact that he was proud of. To have that comfort and for it be between the two of them, something special, that they had developed all on their own was part of the reason Jongin learned to love the academy. Even with all the late nights and dreary days, Yifan was there and everything was perfect.

Perfection was something easily lost as easily as it was gained, however, and Jongin was apt to discover this fact when just a week before their demonstration, something happened. It was not something that was part of their plan. Their plan had lines and scribbles and smudges, but they were easily recognizable as the plan that they had put together. Within those graphite scrawls, this had never been mapped out. This, this, was never supposed to happen. It was what the academic council would call a tragic accident.

For how long, Jongin wondered, did Wu Yifan know he was dying?

It was then that Jongin understood Yifan’s urgency to leave his mark on the world. He understood why Yifan was bold in his endeavors, because he couldn’t afford his time not to be. Yifan was his own candlelight in his darkened little universe and Jongin was amazed by him even after his untimely death, by his courage to put on a smile and face the world in confidence. He wondered why Yifan had never told him, he wondered why Yifan had never said anything, until he received the letter.

Dearest Jongin,

If you received this letter, then I must be… Enough of the sad, I was never one for sad news. I’m writing this to you just a week after you accepted your apprenticeship with me. I knew from the moment that I met you that you would be special, but I had no idea how much of a genius you really are. I hope that you will continue to grow and make changes to the world, even long after I’m gone. I want to see you succeed in life where I couldn’t and I believe that you can. If I’m gone before the project is over, then it’s yours now. All of it is yours. Take the blueprints and my notes and make the world see what happens when two minds like ours connect.

Continuing this letter: I’ve only known you for a month now and I can say without a doubt that you are the best friend I have ever had. I don’t know if you feel it the way that I do, but you’re so sweet and funny… You’re like a brother to me, Jongin. I never want to lose you and that’s why I’m scared of telling you that I’m… That I’m sick. My heart is weak and it can’t be cured. I just don’t want to worry you, I want to be the person you always look up to. Please forgive me for keeping this dark secret hidden away and trust me when I say that if I thought it would change anything between us, I would have told you. You’re a kind kid, Jongin, and I knew you’d stay by my side until the end of this project, so thank you. For everything.

I should probably have just re-written this letter from scratch, but I know how much you like to watch the development from phase one. I’m teasing, I know. I’m writing this on the day of our kiss… I’m just going to say it. I love you, Jongin. You’re brilliant and you’re wonderful and I love you. I’m a bit of a coward so I can’t say it out loud and I’m a terrible person for leaving it to a letter like this one to be sent to you after my death, but I needed to say it at least once. And even though I never said it aloud, I hope that you felt it in my actions while I was alive. Jongin, you mean meant so much to me.

The demonstration is coming up, but I’m afraid I’ve fallen rather ill, Jongin. I know I haven’t made it to the presentation, especially if you’re reading this right now. I know you’re also crying and I long to wipe away those tears, but I can’t. I’m not there and I’m so sorry, Jongin. I’ve softened up because of you. I thought that I was always going to be able to say goodbye to the world when the time came, but I met you. I wanted to hold on a little while longer. I wanted to hold you a little while longer. I wanted to forget the android and focus on you… But, my determination has rubbed off on you, Jongin, and I see the way you want to change the world now too. I hope that you do. I hope that you find an apprentice in your senior year and that the two of you change the world the way we were going to. Never stop, if not for me, then do it for yourself. I believe in you.

Signed,
Wu Yifan.

Black. That was the colour of Jongin’s suit on the day that they buried Yifan and also the colour of Yifan’s coffin. It was shiny enough that Jongin could see his own reflection in it as the pallbearers passed him by and lowered his best friend into the ground. Jongin watched with a heavy heart as friends, family, faculty and peers took their turn tossing roses and other flowers onto his grave. He felt empty inside, like there was nothing there anymore. No feelings, just numbness, because on the day that Yifan died, a part of himself died too.

When the crowds finally dispersed, all going about their business as people do after funerals, there was one who remained, kneeling in the dirt next to the tombstone. Jongin, who loved Yifan so dearly, felt his knees sinking into the freshly turned earth, possibly ruining his black slacks, but that was the least of his concern as he reached out with a shaking hand to touch the cold, marble stone. His fingers traced over the lettering on the grave, words that marked out Yifan’s family name in big letters at the top, ‘WU,’ and then over Yifan’s name just beneath. He dipped his finger tip inside and traced along the engraving, ‘Wu Yifan.’

Jongin choked up when his fingers traced over ‘In Loving Memory’ and he felt the onset of the tears finally pooling in the corners of his eyes, though he tried to blink them away. The sting and the prick in the back of his eyes became almost too much, as they began to burn with the threat of sobbing caught in Jongin’s throat. He choked again and the tears began to fall as he read over the rest of the engraving, the pads of his fingers just brushing over it until he hung his head and cried, unable to hold back the pain any longer. His hand covered the place where upon the stone was engraved, ‘...A dear friend & lover.’ And he didn’t stop sobbing until Professor Zhang found him there late into the evening with dried tear stains on his face, damp eyelashes, puffy red cheeks and skin ghostly white.

“Come, Jongin, you’ll catch a cold out here,” Yixing said softly.

Jongin sniffed and slowly let his hand fall away from the stone, “I love you too,” he whispered at the ground, voice cracking and hoarse, and the wind ruffled his hair as if almost in response, like a gentle caress from a familiar hand.

Professor Zhang Yixing walked Jongin back from the funeral and all the way to the station where they took the last tram together to the campus late into the night. Yixing was a nice man, he had always been so patient and considerate, but after the death of Yifan, he became impossibly more so. He was kind, caring, gentle and considerable understanding of the situation. He was flexible, made himself a beacon of light while Jongin was lost in a dark sea with the crashing waters threatening to drown him into the abyss of the ocean. Yixing led him home.

When they arrived on campus, Yixing sent Jongin to the dorms even though Jongin had insisted on going to the laboratory to work on the project. The words were so frail in Jongin’s weak protest and it broke Yixing’s heart when he heard Jongin say ‘our project,’ knowing full well that the boy was still trying to process the loss of his friend. Yixing pressed a firm hand onto Jongin’s back and gently nudged him in the direction of the rooms explaining that what Jongin required at that moment was rest.

The day after the funeral, Jongin dragged himself from his bed and trudged out into the foggy covered campus grounds as he made his way to class. The dark circles under his eyes were extensive and quite noticeable, even against his tan complexion, and his hair was disheveled, sticking up in all the wrong places, and he was still wearing the clothing he had worn to the funeral the previous day with slacks covered in mud. He was a sight to see, to say the least, and everyone stopped to gawk at the way he moved, as if he were himself dead.

“What are you doing here?” Professor Zhang asked in surprise as an exhausted Jongin entered one of the lab rooms for his morning class.

“Class starts in five minutes, Sir,” Jongin deadpanned pointing to the clock sitting on Yixing’s desk.

Yixing couldn’t help but notice the way that Jongin’s eyes sort of glazed over with tears, “You don’t have to be here.” he whispered, squeezing Jongin’s shoulder reassuringly.

“I’m a student,” Jongin said finally, “I’m supposed to attend class.” his voice cracked as he finished his sentence, his eyes had been scanning the room and came to land on an empty desk near the front of the room - one that Yifan used to sit in while tutoring the first year students.

Quiet murmurs filled the room as Jongin began to cry, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as he turned away from everyone as if that might change the fact that he was heartbroken, that everything he knew at this academy had come to an abrupt halt. Yixing guided Jongin out of the room and closed the door gently behind himself before he peered down the halls as if to check for nosey onlookers. He took a deep breath and pulled Jongin in for a tight hug against his chest, letting the student sob into his robes. Jongin let his fingers curl into the fabric of Professor Zhang’s silk dress and, ignoring all social graces, cry muffled into the man’s chest.

“Why?” Jongin’s voice cracked and Yixing hesitantly the boy’s hair, “Why does it hurt so much?”

“It’s called being human, Jongin,” Yixing spoke softly, “It’s your body’s way of trying to adapt to the loss.”

“I don’t like it,” Jongin sniffled, “I don’t want it.”

Yixing sighed, “Emotions are what make us who we are, you need to feel pain in order to heal.”

It took weeks before Jongin would dare step his foot back into the laboratory that belonged to both himself and Yifan. At first, he had been unable to comprehend the situation and he spent nights in numbness, attending classes as if it were the only thing he knew. Later on, he simply grew angry at everything and with himself and, in his darkest moments, he cursed Yifan as well for keeping his illness a secret. By the time he was finally ready to enter the laboratory, the summer weather was just starting to settle in and the new first year students were arriving by the train. Jongin would be starting his second year at the Academy soon.

As the door to the laboratory creaked open, metal scraping metal while the door followed the silver scratches in the floor from the way it always grazed against the black painted surface. He peered in and he was greeted by the memories he had hidden deep in his heart.

Yifan looked up from his work and pulled the goggles from his eyes, “Jongin! Come, look what I’ve made!” he laughed,

And the sound of that joyful laughter echoed around the empty, gloomy room. Jongin’s eyes filled with tears that began to fall in a steady stream down his cheeks, but it wasn’t enough to blur his vision. Not quite. He took a deep breath as he walked into the room, it was as dusty as it had always been, but somehow it seemed gloomier without the lively presence of Yifan tinkering away at his desk.

Jongin took a sharp inhale as he let his fingers run over the familiar surfaces of metal workbenches and the litter of papers that Yifan had left behind. He slumed down into the chair, the one Yifan always sat in, and felt that emptiness once more. He was alone again. That thought alone was enough to kill him.

A slight, warm breeze came in through the open window at the far corner of the laboratory, rustling the curtains and starling Jongin as it caused a string of goosebumps to rise on his skin. He furrowed his eyebrows and the chair, spinning around to face the dusty window and stared at it long and hard. That window had not been left open, not ever. In fact, Yifan never opened the windows in the room, afraid of breaking his concentration with the world outside. Something was wrong.

“It’s missing!” Jongin panicked at the door of Professor Zhang’s office, “All of it, gone!”

“Calm down, Jongin,” Yixing gasped, “Tell me again, slower now.”

“Everything, the notes, the schematics, the plans,” Jongin worried his bottom lip and took a deep, shaking breath, “Our work,” his voice cracked, “Someone stole the project papers for the OSH-94 android.”

This chapter was surprisingly longer than I meant for it to be... And before you ask, YES, this is a sekai fic and sehun will appear finally in the next chapter, I promise! HUGE shout out to kkaejin for helping me edit this chapter, bless your soul. And another HUGE shout out to silverblizzard for patiently waiting for her extremely belated birthday gift!
xo, TadaChi